I’m no scientist, but I can tell the difference between “easy to breathe” and “hard to breathe”.

I live and train in Draper, Utah. The altitude is about 4,500 feet, probably 4,600 feet where I live. My parents live in Arcadia, CA, which is at 479 feet. I started doing triathlons in 2007, and this is the first time since 2008 that I have done any training in California. In other words, most of my triathlon career has been spent training in Utah, at altitude. And when I did any training here in California, it was very minimal, as in perhaps one four-mile run. I also weighed about 30 lbs more back then, and didn’t have a clue what I was doing and therefore didn’t pay much attention to how I felt when running–I just went out and ran.

I haven’t done any testing or anything sophisticated this time around, I just came down to spend Christmas with my folks and since I was going to be here for a few weeks I brought my bike and run gear. So, did I notice any difference training here in California, 4,000 feet lower than in Draper, Utah? I don’t like to swear, but heck yeah!

My first run down here was a 15 mile loop. It was pretty flat, with perhaps a total elevation gain of 100 feet at a very slight grade. That made it easier than running in Draper where I’m primarily doing hills. But even adjusting for the lack of hills, this was the easiest 15 mile run I’ve ever done in my life. My muscles got sore enough, but when it came to breathing, I never felt like I was breathing hard at all. I never felt like I had to rest at all, or walk any part of the way–it was just super, super easy. But I chalked it up as a fluke.

Then I went on a bike ride. Again, it was on a very flat ride down the San Gabriel river trail towards Seal Beach (a very nice ride, by the way), out and back. I wasn’t tracking my distance, that is I wasn’t looking at my distance during the ride, I just went to where I was running out of time and then turned around and rode home. I haven’t ridden for more than an hour in months. I rode for about three hours, 48 miles, and it was a piece of cake. It felt leisurely. I got a little saddle-sore, and my neck was sore from holding it up on a tri bike for that long, but breathing was easy, and my muscles didn’t get very tired (even though I neglected to bring any nutrition or liquids, not expecting to ride that far or long).

I’ve now done two more 7 mile runs, and those were super easy as well. I can only come to one conclusion–altitude really, really, REALLY makes a difference. I can’t point to anything else that has changed, and yet the effort I’m putting into these workouts is very noticeably less than what I usually put in while in Utah.

So what do I do about this? Well, perhaps I should think about doing more races in California, but keep the training in Utah.

Multiple friends have told me I needed to read this book, but I resisted for a year or two. But they were right, I did need to read this book. This is not a training book, it’s an amazing story. It reads in a very similar fashion to The Omnivore’s Dilemma. I’m not sure exactly how to sum it up, but the short version is that it’s partly about a tribe of natives who live in treacherous canyons in Mexico and run up and over mountains all day on a diet of corn, corn beer, and chia seeds. It’s also partly about ulta-marathoners who enjoy getting out for 100-mile strolls. It’s also partly about how our bodies are designed by evolution for running–not just running, but endurance running. Here’s what Amazon.com says about it:

An epic adventure that began with one simple question: Why does my foot hurt?

Isolated by Mexico’s deadly Copper Canyons, the blissful Tarahumara Indians have honed the ability to run hundreds of miles without rest or injury. In a riveting narrative, award-winning journalist and often-injured runner Christopher McDougall sets out to discover their secrets. In the process, he takes his readers from science labs at Harvard to the sun-baked valleys and freezing peaks across North America, where ever-growing numbers of ultra-runners are pushing their bodies to the limit, and, finally, to a climactic race in the Copper Canyons that pits America’s best ultra-runners against the tribe. McDougall’s incredible story will not only engage your mind but inspire your body when you realize that you, indeed all of us, were born to run.

“But I just like to get out and run” you say. Great! You should definitely read this book. It will help you enjoy running more. “But I don’t like running, I’m just doing it because I know I need to lose weight.” you say. Great! This book will help you not only prevent running injuries and keep you out there, but may change your entire perspective on running and turn you into a running-lover. “But I don’t run, and I hate the idea of running.” Even if you don’t want to have anything to do with running, this is still a fascinating book.

For me, the book has not only given me ideas about how to modify the shoes I wear, the diet I’m taking in, and the form with which I run, but it’s changing the way I look at running itself, as not just a means to an end, but an end in and of itself.

I’m not talking about what happens when you eat too much Ben & Jerry’s, nor am I making reference to that rotten apple I bit into last summer. I’m talking about what a pain it is to maintain a strong core, and yet…it seems to be something everyone says is important.

“But,” you say, “I’m new to triathlon, I don’t even know what my core is!” I’m there with you. I think I went a year or two before I finally looked it up or figured it out. Turns out when people talk about your “core” they are talking about your midsection, abs, everything between your shoulders and your legs, etc.

Now, I’m a firm believer that if you have a good “why” you’ll figure out the “how”, so let’s talk about why a strong core is important–it makes you faster, prevents injury, and makes your stomach look awesome. Good enough? Ok, let’s move on to how.

I’m also a firm believer in making things as easy as possible. I tried doing 10 different core exercises, but even after a month I still couldn’t remember all of them and had to constantly look at a sheet of paper with pictures. Too hard. I’ve also tried just doing crunches. Easy, but not everything I needed. So now I’m trying something new, which is to follow Ben Greenfield’s advice on some simple core exercises that will strengthen your shoulders as well as your core, as published in the November 13th edition of the EverymanTri email newsletter (scroll way down and look on the lower left).

How To Get Nice Shoulders Step #3: Work the core.

Blah, blah, blah, work the core. Sure, you’ve heard this before. But think about it this way: when you’re riding a bike, swimming, or sitting at your desk, there is one thing that has to happen before you begin to slouch: your core has to get tired first.

But if your core is strong, it takes a massive load off your shoulders, and allows you to maintain much better posture. I personally recommend planks as the best way to strengthen your core and shoulders at the same time.

Try this: get into a front plank position, hold for 3 deep breaths, then switch to a side plank position left side, hold for 3 more breaths, then side plank right side for 3 breaths, and finish by holding a full push-up position for 3 breaths. Do that entire sequence without your knees touching the ground. See how many rounds you can do before you core collapses. If you can get to 10 round (about 7-9 minutes of planking), you’ve got a solid core. Otherwise, do this routine once or twice per week until you can get to 10 rounds.

 What are planks, you ask? Here are some planking pictures. No, this is different than this type of planking, which does virtually nothing for your core.

I tried it this morning. I was able to get through two rounds, barely, so I definitely have a bit of work to do to get to the 10 rounds Ben recommends. But what I like about this method is that I can already remember it, having just done it once, and it has the added benefit of helping my posture and shoulders, and my shoulder has been bugging me lately, so I’m hoping this might help with that.

So while core exercises may seem like something evil to you, here’s to hoping something good comes of them.

I’ve written previously about how to make green smoothies taste better. Green smoothies are bad enough in that they’re called “green smoothies”. It doesn’t help that you pack them full of a ton of spinach, kale, or other leafy greens. But if the green smoothie tastes horrible to boot, or it tastes fine on day 1, but makes you gag by day 5, then this makes the entire concept of green smoothies useless. But I’ve never been a fan of having to add artificial flavoring and sugar to a green smoothie in order to make it palatable. It’s like a vegan having to add a steak to a salad in order to get the salad down.  Adding fruit punch mix to cover up the taste of the green smoothie is like putting cheese on broccoli–it helps you get the broccoli down, but at a cost. In January of 2011 my sister passed a new recipe along to us that we started using, and after almost an entire year of drinking this smoothie almost every day, I am declaring it the ultimate green smoothie recipe. Not because it has the widest variety of ingredients, but because it has some good core ingredients, and most importantly–I can drink it every day without getting sick of it.

The green smoothie recipe I’ve become hooked on is quite simple:

1. Two cups water

2. One cup apple juice (juice or concentrate)

3. Several large handfuls of raw, fresh, washed spinach leaves (we buy the large bags from Costco)

4. A healthy helping of frozen blueberries (again, we buy the large bags from Costco)

5. A few large, frozen strawberries

6. Other frozen mixed berries

7. Some pineapple if you like (fresh pineapple or fresh frozen taste best)

Blend.

It’s almost as important to know what to leave out as what to include. Don’t include bananas, carrots, nuts, or wheat germ. Well, include them if you like, but if the taste doesn’t work for you, leave it out. I’m not sure exactly what was making me gag before, but it was one of those above ingredients. I suspect the bananas. I love bananas, but somehow combined with the other green smoothie ingredients it made drinking the smoothie every day unsustainable.

Another note, I think the smoothie tastes better once it sits and thaws a little. When it’s really frozen the cold numbs certain of your tastebuds and the taste is quite bland. But if it thaws a bit then it becomes very sweet and tastes as good as anything from Jamba Juice or any other smoothie joint.

Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma, is one of my new heros, along with one of the subjects of the book, Joel Salatin, owner of Polyface Farms. One of the great blessings that has come into my life as a result of getting into triathlons in 2007 is that I did not just become someone who swims, bikes, and runs, but I became quite interested in health and nutrition. I’ve learned that while exercise is important, good, and stimulating, it is probably the lesser part of the equation leading to good health, relative to what we eat.

The Omnivore’s Dilemma is one of the more entertaining books I’ve read on health. The author explores where our food comes from (answer: corn) and how to eat better (answer: grown your own food or buy your food from people you know). His journey takes him, and us, through the vast workings of the industrial food system, teaches us the history of so-called “organic” food, and shows us why we should never eat at McDonalds ever again, although of course we will. The book is not just the musings of the author, however, it is fraught with lessons about the science and history of food and nutrition, and Pollan, being an investigative journalist, is an excellent writer and storyteller, making the journey quite interesting and fun.

It has now become one of my favorite books, and a life-changing one. My wife and I are already exploring how we can plant our own garden and start raising chickens in our backyard. We’ve started buying produce from a local farmer. In other words yes, this book may mess up your life.

In April of 2010 I ran my first marathon. It seemed like a big deal at the time. Then a guy moved into my neighborhood who was training for a 100 mile run. He would go out and do 30, 40, and 60 mile “training” runs. Somehow doing a marathon doesn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Marathons are the new 5K.

This year I focused on speed and did three sprint triathlons. A friend invited me to participate in the Las Vegas marathon in December, and I thought that sounded like a nice way to end the year without interfering with anything else. But then I got to thinking, “Why bother?” I don’t mean why bother running a marathon, but why bother paying the $175 entry fee, driving 6 hours to Vegas, paying $100 for a hotel, running, driving 6 hours back, all for a medal, t-shirt, and some snacks? Is it really worth upwards of $400 and two days of time? Plus I’d prefer to do it a different weekend, and I’m not a fan of the strip in Las Vegas. I was just there for a trade show and if I could avoid ever going back I would. I’m just not into that scene.

Now, if I were running to qualify for Boston, that would be a different situation. Or if the marathon were a mere hour drive away, and cost $80, that would also be a different situation. But given the time, expense, and lack of alternatives, I started wondering whether or not I shouldn’t just run my own unassisted marathon. After all, what do I really need, especially in the winter?

On my first marathon I had the need for two things; 1) a potty, and 2) liquids. Using the restroom at the beginning and end of the “event” isn’t an issue, since I’d be at home. And along the course I would most likely run there is a park with a restroom, so I’d have that halfway spot as well. And then there’s my secret spot right where…well, we won’t go there. Or at least you won’t. So I think the matter of the potty can easily be taken care of. As far as liquids, how much do I really need? On a warm day I might need more than I could feasibly carry, but this will be in December/January, so it seems like I could carry enough in my hydration belt. Plus there is water at the park (although it might be turned off in the winter). Worst case scenario, I can go plant water along the running trail right before I start running, so that it won’t freeze or get too cold. So that issue seems like it can be taken care of fairly easily as well.

So let’s see…I get to sleep at home in my own bed, I can start whenever I want, I can choose the date, I save $400 and 2-3 days of travel…where’s the downside to this plan?

If you’ve run an unassisted marathon, or do training runs that are longer than marathon distance, what tips do you have?

Now, you might be thinking “Why not do unassisted triathlons?” Some people do, but I see more value in paying to do a triathlon. There’s something to be said for having someone put buoys in the water and save you from drowning. There’s something to be said about having a transition area. There’s something to be said about having traffic control for the bike portion. But when  you’re just running and nothing else, and it’s during the cooler part of the year, I don’t see the attraction in paying for a marathon, unless it’s for charity, or you’re trying to qualify for something else. Or, unlike me, you might be a social animal who likes to run with other people. I’m not super anti-social, but I like having some “alone” time when I work out and time to listen to audiobooks.

The Stansbury triathlon, held near Tooele, Utah, marked the last event of the 2011 season for me, as well as the end of an experiment to see how fast I could get. Since getting into triathlon in 2007, I’ve focused exclusively on endurance, but this year I decided to focus on speed. I signed up for three sprint-distance triathlons and trained specifically to improve my speed, primarily in the run portion where I was the weakest. Things went well at the Park City and Scofield triathlons. No two triathlons are the same, so it’s difficult to compare, but I certainly did better at these triathlons than at any previous triathlon. I also felt that I did well compared to other people, placing 21st out of 102 at Park City, and 23rd out of 133 at Scofield. At Park City I was 7th out of 14 in my age group, and at Scofield I was also 7th out of 14…whoa, that’s kind of weird. I didn’t notice that before.

I was a bit worried about Stansbury for two reasons; 1) I strained the deltoid muscles in my right arm about two weeks before the race and my arm had been bothering me and had cut into my workouts, so I wasn’t sure how I would do on the swim, and 2) I went to a tradeshow for two days during the week prior to the race and ate too much good food, which resulted in my putting on a few pounds.

On the plus side, we were able to stay with some friends of ours who live less than a mile from the race, so we drove out last night to sleep at their house. We were treated with every measure of hospitality, but as we started going to bed, all heck broke loose. My 3 1/2 year old and 1 1/2 year old decided that 10:30 pm was a good time to hop on pop, and as I was trying to go to bed I was suddenly attacked by one kid and then the other. For the next 10 minutes as I lay there on the air mattress I was alternatively a horse, slide, car, beanbag, punching bag, and trampoline. I don’t think those triathletes who don’t have kids have any clue what it’s like to do triathlons with kids. Finally discipline was restored after I moved to the couch…well, a few minutes after I moved to the couch, and I settled in for the night.

I woke up before my alarm, which means I got a good night’s rest. Because the race area was so close, I was able to ride my bike there by myself and allow my wife and kids some time to sleep in.

I arrived around 7 am to find the transition area already filling up. It was open-racking, meaning no assigned spots, and that means people want to get there early to get a good spot. But the race was fairly small so almost any spot was a decent spot. I grabbed a good one on the perimeter, close enough to the bike exit so that I didn’t have to go far in my bike shoes on the way to the bike course nor on the way in from it.

I spotted Te Koi Smith, my friend who got me into triathlon, and he racked up next to me. I also happened to be right next to Justin and Michelle, a couple from our neighborhood who were both racing that day, she in the sprint and he in the olympic.

This race also marked the first time I went out swimming before the race. I find that I tend to get into my rhythm on the swim 5-10 minutes into it, but in a sprint race where the swim is only 12 minutes long, that means I get into my rhythm right at the end. This time I made sure I was in the water early and swam around for five minutes to get warmed up and my wetsuit adjusted. My injured arm felt good, so that was a relief.

Swim

At 8:15 am or so we were off. I’ve never been buffeted and banged about so much on the swim as in this race, which was strange since I’ve been in plenty of larger races. I just happened to get stuck in a cluster somehow. I didn’t get hurt at all, but I just couldn’t get through to the front of the pack and kept having to stop and try and find a way through or around, but it didn’t happen. I’d guess I lost perhaps a minute due to this, but no biggie.

The worst part of the swim was that after turning the second buoy, the sun was directly in our eyes. We couldn’t see anything other than the swimmers right around us. We were all swimming in a somewhat similar direction, but we had no idea until we were on top of the third buoy whether we were really going in the right direction. Somehow we made it there. Despite this, I felt like this was the best I had ever done at sighting and swimming straight during a triathlon. The only problem with swimming straight is that the people who aren’t swimming straight keep bumping into you. I got a lot of that in this race. It probably didn’t help that we started swimming just after the olympic racers passed us to start their second lap, and so we were having to swim through them. I think the race would have been better if they had either started us 15 minutes later, after all the olympic racers were well ahead of us or out of the water, or if they had just started us first.

T1

I didn’t get too dizzy getting out of my wetsuit or into my bike shoes, which is a good thing. And I remembered my towel this time! Of course the one time I remember my towel, the sprinklers for a strip of lawn at the top of the transition area turned on, sending streams of water through the transition area, and my towel that was laid out for the purpose of drying my feet after the swim was completely soaked. Not just wet, but as wet as a towel could possible get. Gushing. My backpack was also soaking wet where it was laying on the pavement. Nice. Somebody please turn those off next year?

Bike

I had some trouble getting my shoes into my clips at the start. Sometimes your feet clip in immediately, no problem, and other times they keep slipping off. This time they kept slipping off. I probably lost 10-15 seconds there, so again, no biggie.

I’ve never had so many people pass me within the first five minutes of getting on the bike. My theory for this is that whereas I’m relatively good on the swim compared to the bike and run, most other people are relatively bad. Thus I was early out of the water, but then these super fast guys were zipping by me on the bike. I mean, there was no way I could keep up with these guys on the bike, although evidently I had on the swim just fine. Luckily I was seeing a few O’s on legs, which meant some of the people passing me were doing the olympic distance, and while that meant they were already twice as tired as me yet still going faster, it also meant I wasn’t really racing against them.

This course had more sharp turns and less straightaway than any other course I’ve been on, but it wasn’t too bad. It was very, very flat. Not a hill to speak of. I’d guess the total elevation change was less than 25 feet.

T2

I made sure not to step on my sopping wet towel as I got into my running shoes. Other than that, everything went smoothly and I was off on the run.

Run

“Alrighty, this is it,” I thought. “The last part of the last triathlon of the season.” I’ve never gone all out on the run, because I’ve got it stuck in my head that I have to pace myself to not wear out. But this time I wanted to push it, so instead of doing 8:00 miles, which is still pushing it but doable for me, I tried to maintain a pace around 7:30 or so.

The course stayed on one road for the first .75 miles, and as I passed that I thought “Ok, on the way back this is where I’ll start sprinting.”

The run went onto an island in the middle of the lake we had swam in, and as I neared the halfway point I saw the leader coming back. He didn’t seem to be all that far ahead of me, but he did look like he was going quite a bit faster. I saw Te Koi in 5th place, not too far behind.

As I ran, I tried to focus on the next guy in front of me and pass him. I’m not competitive, really, but it gave me something to shoot for. Once I passed one guy, I’d focus on the next one. I think I passed 3-4 guys, and nobody passed me, so I was making my way up in the overall rankings.

I passed a guy just before the .75 mark, and started pushing it quite a bit more, getting my pace up under 7:00. I don’t know how much I held to that, especially because there were some slight uphill portions on the return, but every time I looked down at my watch I was hitting 6:40 or 6:50 it seemed. I knew I was certainly pushing it more than I ever had before for this long of a distance.

There was just one guy I could see in front of me, and I made it my goal to pass him before the finish. I was running as hard as I could at that point, my breathing being the primary bottleneck. My legs felt great, I just couldn’t get enough air into my lungs.

About .3 before the finish, I passed the guy I had targeted, and then started going up a slight incline. I didn’t want a repeat of Park City where some guy zoomed past me right at the finish line, so I kept up the sprinting, imagining some guy trying to catch up with me. I started to wonder if I was going to pass out at the end, because I had never run like this before, but as I passed the finish line I felt pretty good. Out of breath, but overall pretty good.

Final Results

Te Koi came in 2nd in his age group…which is the same age group as me. He actually was awarded 1st place in our age group, because the guy who got 1st came in 3rd overall, which means they don’t count him for awards. I came in 6th (or 5th, if they gave awards beyond 3rd place), about 6:20 behind him. I came in 14th overall with a total time of 1:16:32. The first place guy came in at 1:07:38. They haven’t posted complete results yet, so I don’t know exactly what my splits are, but I’ll post those once I get them. I’m eager to see how my swim compares to the other two, as well as my run. The bike is impossible to compare, but it’s easier with those other two events. No matter what, I know I put more into it, and I’m sure I went faster on the run than I ever have before. And it’s a relief just to have actually made it to every race I signed up for this season and to have not had any flats, injuries, etc. that would have really put a damper on a race.

It has been fun to actually feel slightly competitive in these events. It’s not about beating the other guys, but it’s fun to realize I’m within striking distance. The 3rd place guy in my age group had a time of 1:12:07, just four and a half minutes ahead of me. If I could have swam a minute faster, biked 2-3 minutes faster, and have ran a minute faster, I could have had a podium finish. That doesn’t seem like that much to shave off each event. And when you figure that guy probably weighs in at 160 and has 3% body fat, whereas I’m weighing in at 195 lbs, I feel pretty good about where I’m at. I bet if you strapped 35 lbs on that guy’s back he’d lose at least four minutes on his time.

Ok, final results are in:

Swim: 16:00
T1: 1:13
Bike: 34:52 – Pace: 19.3 mph
T2: 1:02
Run: 23:27 – Pace: 7:34
Total: 1:16:32

Interesting, my swim time was 1-1.5 minutes longer than my other two races, so my estimate that getting caught behind people cost me a minute sounds about right.

My run time seems slower than what it felt like, let me tell you. But it sounds about right for the first 2.25 miles.

Here were the winner’s times:

Swim: 14:32
T1: 0:53
Bike: 32:02 – Pace: 21.0 mph
T2: 0:49
Run: 19:26 – Pace: 6:16
Total: 1:07:38

I just need to shave 9 minutes off. No problem

Future plans?

I’m not sure. Ironman at some point, but probably not next year. I wouldn’t mind training for the Las Vegas marathon this December. It seems like it would be fairly easy to fit into my schedule, but we’ll see. I’ll think about it next week after I take a little nap.

I don’t know how the pros handle life. Imagine you’re training all year for Kona, and then two days before it you stub your toe or hit your knee on a table leg and you think “Oh great, is this going to take a minute or two off my race time and put me in 4th place?” When hundreds of thousands of dollars in prize and sponsorship money are on the line, it seems like you would go crazy.

As someone’s grandma used to say, “You would do well to have such problems.” I don’t have such problems, but I have other problems on a somewhat lesser degree. In two weeks I have my last triathlon of the season. The idea this year was to only do sprint distance triathlons and see how fast I could get. I’ve tailored an entire year towards this, and this triathlon is the big one for me where I go all out, using everything I’ve learned from the previous races.

Then, a few days ago, we ran out of printer paper. On Monday I went to Office Depot to pick up a $25/box of printer paper. I found the box, and hoisted it onto my shoulder and walked to the checkout counter. I paid for it, hoisted it onto my shoulder again, and carried it to the car. Once home, I hoisted it onto my shoulder again and carried it inside. No big deal, right?

Later that day, my arm started hurting around the shoulder area and down a bit toward my elbow. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “Did I overdo it? Pull something? Strain something? Bruise something?” I figured perhaps it would go away overnight. The next morning I was supposed to have a swim workout, but my arm hurt even worse than before. I skipped the workout, since the movements that were causing the pain seemed to be similar to the movements I would make while swimming.

Today it still hurts, and I skipped my bike and run workouts because I’m afraid even those might make it worse. The pain doesn’t occur all the time, only when I move in certain ways. Picking up my 30 lb kid, for example, doesn’t hurt at all. But if I’m sitting at my desk with my right hand on my lap, and then raise it to start typing, the act of raising my arm five inches to the desk hurts quite a bit. Steering a car doesn’t hurt, but lifting my arm to the steering wheel does, as does lifting my arm to push buttons on the car radio. And yes, today it hurts just as bad as it did yesterday, or at least I think it does.

So will the end of my season be ruined? Will I not be in peak shape due to missing out on training leading up to my race? Will I even be able to race at all? I don’t know, but it’s kind of annoying that even have to think about this, and of course I can’t blame anyone or anything but myself. But little did I know that hoisting a box like that would lead to an injury, although I must confess there was a little voice in the back of my mind that told me to go get a shopping cart. But maybe something else in my mind was telling me that the 16-year old kid working at Office Depot would be really impressed if I just picked up that box like it was nothing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But I guess it could be worse. At least I’m not a professional triathlete with chiseled features and the body of a Greek god worrying about losing out on hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Today I competed in my second of three triathlons that I will do this year. This one was held at Scofield, Utah, in the Scofield Reservoir.

Scofield is an actual town of about 30 people, located just south of the reservoir itself. We saw it, but not very well. But based on what we saw of the reservoir, it looks like a beautiful place to live. If I were a billionaire, I’d have one of my 50 vacation homes built at this place, along with a big garage to house my solid-gold rocket car. The more I travel around Utah, the more I realize how beautiful the state is, and how much of a great place it is to live if you’re into triathlon.

At my last triathlon I went by myself and slept in my car, and I didn’t like it one bit. The car part was fine, I just felt like it was such a waste not having my wife and kids there. This time I didn’t repeat the mistake, although I did make another one by not reserving a proper camp spot ahead of time. By “proper” I mean there are two campgrounds at Scofield; Mountain View and Madsen Bay. The event itself is held at the Mountain View campground, and so camping there makes all the sense in the world, since everyone else who has a spot there is also there for the triathlon, which means everyone is trying to get to bed early and isn’t going to be up late partying, or at least one would assume, and when you wake up you don’t have to go anywhere. However, I didn’t know about this.

At the beginning of the week, it occurred to me I had no idea what we were doing about lodging. That is, I had planned on camping, but had made no more attempt to plan things out than to come up with that idea. Can’t someone else do the rest? I quickly found out that all the camp spots at Mountain View were taken, but that there were still some spots at Madsen Bay, a mere two miles away. No problem, I thought, we’ll camp there, and while my wife and the kids are still sleeping I’ll bike the two miles down to Mountain View, and then they can wake up an hour later, throw everything in the back of the mini-van, and arrive in time to see me start on the swim. I made reservations, feeling a bit lucky, and that was that.

Yesterday afternoon we arrived while the sun was still shining, found our reserved spot, and set up tent. The kids were excited, and so far I felt like things were working out quite well. Then night fell, and all became chaos. Babies crying (not ours), people yelling, pounding of some sort, cars pulling in and out at 2 am, etc. Oh, and despite the forecast of an overnight low of 44 degrees, it got to freezing, and perhaps a bit below it. At least I assume that if you wake up and there is thick frost all over your tent and car this means the temperature got to below freezing. We weren’t quite prepared for freezing temperatures, and so while we didn’t freeze, we weren’t completely comfortable. I was even less comfortable because I had decided, even though I think I swore that the last time would be the last time, to shave my arms and legs again, and that felt really weird in the sleeping bag. But sleep we did, somewhat fitfully, and we awoke mostly rested. The kids did great, and both my wife and I have had much worse night’s sleeps.

So I wake up, go to the restrooms, and realize there is no way I can ride my bike two miles without gloves, in shorts, to the race area. It’s freezing, and the 50 foot walk to the restrooms is enough to completely numb my flip-flop adorned feet. No, we’re going to need a new plan.

Luckily, I had visited the transition area the evening before to check it out and saw that we were assigned areas to rack our bikes. In other words, there’s not much of an advantage to arriving early in the transition area because you can’t stake out “the best spot”. You’re assigned a spot, and that’s all there is to it. I think I like things this way, and not just because it allowed us to all drive to the race area together and not leave me worrying about being “late”.

We packed up the kids, threw the frost-covered tent in the back of the mini-van, cranked up the heater, and drove the two miles to the race area. Upon arriving there, I noticed the temperature was 10-20 degrees warmer than at the other campground. I don’t know what aspect of the natural surroundings led to this phenomenon, but I was grateful for it.

I was able to see my old coach (old as in ex, not that he’s old) David Warden, whom I had never seen in action, let alone competed against. In this case we would be in the same age group and I thought maybe, just maybe I could pull off some sort of miracle, beat David, and really impress him. Well, not really. David has 0% body fat, drinks diesel fuel, and has Russian mafia connections who take out anyone in a race who appears as though they might give David any trouble. I decided it would be a better goal to merely try and be off my bike and starting the run by the time David finished the entire race.

I got set up in transition, got my wetsuit on (I forgot anti-chafe for my neck, ankles, and wrists, dang it! and that was after my new checklist system!), and made my way to the water. Expecting the water to be freezing based on the temperatures when I woke up, I was pleasantly surprised to find the water to be not cold at all. Maybe my feet were still frozen from walking around at the campground, but the water felt warmer than any outdoor water I’ve ever swam in.

I’ve decided I’m done holding back on the swim. I swam out a little bit to warm up, and then swam back and found a place at the front of the pack, treading water and waiting for the horn. I find my wife and kids and wave to them, they see me. Yes, it’s better with family. There’s the horn, and we’re off. Nothing too different than any other swim, other than at one point I got completely sandwiched between two guys for a few seconds. Not my idea of a good time, so I dropped back a bit to let them pass. I always feel horrible about how I swim at events. I feel as though I’m flailing about, about to drown, and have horrible form. All my training seems to go out the window. It’s only later when I look at my time that I think “Well gee, I must have been doing ok since I was swimming faster than I normally do in a pool where I feel great.” What I was not sure about on this swim was whether the measurements were correct or not. At the Park City triathlon I did a few weeks ago, my time was well over a minute faster, and I don’t think I swam as hard or as well there. I’m thinking one or the other was a tad bit off, but I could be wrong.

One thing I missed were the wetsuit strippers. It’s so nice to have someone else yank that wetsuit off you. Instead, I did the stomping game in the transition area, having a little trouble due to the lack of Body Glide or any similar product on my ankles. What I do know what that I didn’t almost pass out and fall against the bike rack, like I did at Park City. I felt quite a bit more stable. But I had neglected to set my Garmin to “bike” mode. Doh. Anyway, the first transition went smoothly for the most part.

Coming out of T1, you have a choice–get on your bike immediately, and crank up a fairly steep hill, or run up the short hill with your bike and mount at the top. I chose to get right on my bike. But my bike wasn’t quite in the right gear. Chain slips, and I’m worried it’s going to derail, but it doesn’t. I make it up the hill and I’m on my way.

As I get on the road, I’m soaking wet, and although the sun is out and things are warming up, it is the coldest ride I’ve ever had. Not too cold, but noticeably chilly compared to other events.

I’m feeling fine on the ride. Not excellent, nothing special, but good enough. The route is an out-and-back, so I’m waiting to see who is in first, and how far ahead of me they are. About 5 miles in, David Warden passes me going the opposite direction, followed closely by a guy in a BYU triathlon outfit. The bike is about 12 miles, so David is about 2 miles ahead of me at this point, and certainly pulling even further ahead. But I still feel pretty good about where I am compared to someone as experienced and in shape as David.

The ride is fairly flat, with false flats thrown in that you don’t realize aren’t flat until you turn around at the halfway point and you’re screaming past everyone else who is working hard and going slow that last mile or so before the turnaround.

I pass a rider or two, and 4-5 riders pass me. The steepest/longest uphill is a quarter of a mile or so at the end of the bike ride, and I’m feeling fine and ready for the run as I see my wife and kids again and wave. I get into T2, rack my bike the wrong way, but no biggie, struggle a little getting my shoes and belt on and switching my Garmin to “run” mode, and then jog out. Immediately there is a steep hill, and I decide to walk most of it rather than tire my muscles out immediately going up it. In retrospect, I probably should have jogged up it. Walking is so slow, and I could have easily recovered from it on the subsequent downhill.

As I started out on a mild downhill I’m feeling great, doing about 7:30 miles or so. There’s the wife and kids again–my 1 year old has trouble recognizing me in my outfit with everyone else in a similar one. I don’t just mean everyone is wearing tight spandex. I mean me and about 10 others guys all had the same exact outfits on. I got mine at David Warden’s recommendation, and he’s wearing the same one. I later find out his brother is in the race, and he’s wearing the same one too. I can’t help wondering if everyone else with a black, one piece DeSoto lifefoil is wearing it thanks to David. Back to the run.

I probably should have been pushing it harder, but again, live and learn. I’m still not used to these short races where endurance is not the name of the game, so I’m still holding back a bit and being careful. I at least have the presence of mind to know that I should go faster on the downhill portions where it’s easy to do so, I just should have gone even faster than I did.

One nice thing about this run is you can see the whole thing the whole time. You know where you are, and where you’re going. I’m not passing anyone, and nobody seems to be passing me. I’m running somewhat by myself. Not sure how much I like that. I think I do better when there is someone I can try to keep up with. That worked out well at Park City.

As I enter the home stretch, a guy blazes past me on the uphill portion. “Ok,” I think, “I’ll just keep up with this guy and then sprint past him at the finish.” There’s just one problem–I can’t keep up with him. I start trying to sprint, and I still can’t keep up with him. I run as fast as I can up the hill, and when it flattens out towards the finish I’m sprinting as hard as I can, but I end up behind the guy by 20 seconds. And darn it, he’s in my age group, so he pushes me one notch down in the rankings. But at least it’s not as bad as at Park City where the guy snuck up on me and passed me right at the finish line to beat me by 2 seconds.

Final Times & Standings
ib number: 291
gender: M
overall place: 23 out of 133
division place: 7 out of 14
gender place: 22 out of 82
time: 1:20:20
swim: 14:47
t1: 2:10
bike: 35:49
t2: 1:47
run: 25:49

As it turns out, David Warden took 1st, without any help from his Russian friends. Just for fun, let’s compare our times. Here are his:

time: 1:03:54
swim: 13:15
t1: 1:06
bike: 28:45
t2: 0:51
run: 20:00

Now, overall he beat me by 16:34, which seems like an insurmountable lead. How could I ever get that fast? But then I start looking at the individual portions.

Swim – He was ahead of me by 1:32, but I think I could get there. I’m not swimming at my fastest right now, nor doing anything special to train. I just go and swim twice a week for 1,500 meters, without much else to it. I’m sure I could improve by 1:30 or more.

t1 – His transition time was half mine, a full minute faster. Don’t get me wrong, it takes skill to do a quick transition, but skills can be learned. It doesn’t take strength or stamina. It’s more a matter of planning and technique. There’s another minute I could pick up.

Bike – David was 7:03 faster on the bike, and that means about 20% faster in this case. That would be tough, but I could certainly improve. Dropping another 20 lbs would help quite a bit even if I did nothing else, and trust me, I’ve got 20 lbs of stuff hanging on me that isn’t doing me any good. Add to that the fact that I haven’t been doing anything special with my bike training, merely going out and riding three times a week for an hour, and while improving by 20% might be a multi-year effort, it doesn’t feel impossible.

t2 – Wow! 51 seconds is amazing. Seriously, I wish I had video of Dave’s transitions to see how he does it. But there’s another minute I could pick up.

Run – The run is by far where I have the most room for improvement. Again, dropping 20 lbs would help quite a bit. I am actually following a training plan pretty strictly here, and I have gotten a bit faster in the past year. I probably could have run a minute faster today without killing myself or bonking. If I really focused could I get my 8:20 minute mile down to David’s 6:27? That seems like a bit of a stretch. 7:20 seems somewhat realistic, and that would take 3 minutes off my time.

Add it up, and shaving a minute off the swim, t1, and t2 seems realistic and pretty easy. With some effort maybe 3 minutes off the bike and run for a total of perhaps 9 minutes. That would have taken me down to a bit over 1:11 in this case, which is hardly close to David’s 1:03, but that would have put me in the top 10 overall, and in third place for my age group, and I’d feel pretty good about that. Something to shoot for, perhaps?

Many thanks to BBSC for putting on the event. I think they do a great job. And I love that they had a kids triathlon as well. I can’t wait for my kids to be old enough to participate.

Oh, and the free showers at the Mountain View campground are great. I was able to get cleaned up before driving home, as well as rinse off my wetsuit there rather than packing it wet and dirty in the back of the car.

I’ve had problems finding the right earbuds/headphones for running, primarily because they kept falling out. Apple’s default iPod earbuds were ok, if I didn’t mind readjusting them every 3-4 minutes and putting them back in when they fell out every 5-6 minutes. I then purchased some Skullcandy earbuds per the recommendations of my Facebook so-called “friends”, but I initially had some issues with those as well. The main problem, once again, was that they frequently fell out. I solved this problem by attaching a clip to the cord which I would clip to the neck of my shirt, thus preventing the extra long earbud cord from pulling the earbuds out. But about two weeks ago the small plastic clip broke, and I wasn’t sure where to find such a thing. But I happened to have received an Amazon.com gift certificate, so I figured it might be time to try something new.

This time, I opted to try out some over-the-ear, wraparound headphones. That is, the earbud has a long plastic piece that hooks around the top of your ear and gives them extra support to keep them falling out. I chose the JVC brand merely because someone recommended them, and they’re cheap. In fact, they cut the price by 50% so now you can get them for $5, which is hard to beat.

The results? Heavenly. For the first time in four years I have absolutely no problems with my earbuds coming out while I’m running. No hint of them coming out. If I had known how nice this would be, I would have made the switch a long, long time ago. There is simply no comparison.

I don’t think the fact that they’re JVC has anything to do with it. They’re $5 headphones, after all. I’m sure any over the ear headphones would do just as well. But I certainly do like the ones I got.

One added benefit, I’ve been wearing them biking and whereas with my iPod and Skullcandy earbuds I had a lot of wind interference, to the point where if I was in a good headwind or going downhill I couldn’t hear a thing from my headphones, now the noise of rushing air is completely gone. Since I listen to audiobooks while riding, this is nice since I frequently was missing 1-2 minute snippets of audio here and there.