Tension

A bit of a photo blog entry - "Tension" - for these economically tense times.

Meet Mr Jack the Dog. He's actually a very nice lil' fella, but he does like chasing squirrels (don't all dogs?)...

Squish Squash

The Sun's south of the equator.

Here's a touch of Colorado's parting shot.

While it's tough to see summer go, autumn will bring good squash soups, apple pies that permeate the air with cinnamon spice, comfy sweaters, a new president, and pretty colors on the trees...

Happy first day of Autumn....

Monarch Crest Trail

Mugsy and I rode the highly acclaimed Monarch Crest Trail yesterday, a 32-mile section of the Colorado Trail, right in the peaking fall colors. With all this you'd think I'd be ready to capture nature's best. Nope. Left the camera at my condo. Left my phone (with camera) in the car. Therefore, no pictures from yesterday.

While only being 32 miles, the ride felt a whole lot longer. It took us about six hours to complete, with a few hiccups along the way. Mugsy had a flat with about two miles left on the trail, and I spent the day occasionally pumping up the Pugsley's rear tire due to a slow leak.

This was the Pugsley's first trip onto an actual trail. It drew a ton of attention - "Look at those tires!!!", "Sweet wheels!!!" ... etc. - and while it perhaps wasn't the best for single track, there were a few sections of scree and creek riding that it cut through like a hot knife through butter.

While the Puglsey has no active suspension, it does have a lot of ability to soak up bumps, rocks, logs, etc., due to its 4-inch (3.7) Surly Endomorph tires. I started the day running at about 20psi, but kept tweaking until I was down to around 10psi. At 10psi, I had a good combination of control and "squishiness" in the tire to soak up the obstacles on the trail.

While Mugsy felt the trail was "Girl-Scout Technical", I don't know if I'd want to take the Pugsley onto a trail any more technical. That doesn't say it couldn't handle it - I'm sure it could - I'm just not the most adept rider on mountain trails. It really amazed me how quickly people were bombing down the rock and cobble strewn trail at significant grades. I seriously wonder how anyone could actually be in control! With rocks and trees everywhere, it seems just a little bit risky.


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Herding Cats

Now that Ironman is over, I've had some time to be a bit more productive.

Karen's always has had big issues with how the basement's store/bike room has been organized. The bikes were leaned up against the wall and one another, making it difficult to get to the one you want to ride, not to mention running the risk of scratching paint jobs.

Before shot:


I decided to re-live my dorm room days and visit the local big-box hardware store to pick up some lumber, screws, and stain to build my own free-standing rack.

Here it is. Seven bikes total, even the Pug-baby will fit on it. After shot:

IM Wisconsin Recap

The biggest reflection on Ironman Wisconsin is that I can say I have seen a different side to Ironman distance racing. Mostly because I have successfully put together a race that involved distances running over the length of a half marathon. Finally.

The race day weather was perfect. What was supposed to be a day of occasional rain and thunderstorms, started with clear sight of stars in the pre-dawn morning.

After quickly getting my last things organized in T1 (water bottle & GU flasks on the bike), I made my way down to the swim with Karen and got ready for one of the most spectacular race starts in Ironman racing.

The Monona Terrace was filled with people: Along the top, lining the helices that we would be running up and biking down.

After seeing Karen's wave off (the elite wave left ten minutes prior to the start of the agegroup race), the jockeying for position was on. Being faster swimmers, my friend Ryan Paterson and I went to the front and left - the pole position. Soon, though, it became clear that it could very well be a knock out drag out situation: too many people, too amped up. I never was one for a mosh pit. I moved to the right.

The race started with the traditional cannon shot (only a model - really! about the size of a foot), and I quickly sprinted off to stay at the front of mayhem. I had a great swim, around top 20, and much faster than my swim in Roth three years ago.

Moving onto the bike, I slapped down a pretty aggressive pace for the first loop. I caught Karen heading in Mt Horeb on the first loop, and heading into Verona at the end of the first loop, I was told I was the 13th overall male racer - pros included. That's when the wind started picking up.

The wind really added a load and my legs were suddenly feeling like lead climbing the hills that I nimbly climbed on the previous lap. I had to slow down, or really run the high risk of blowing up completely on the run. I backed off quite a bit, and soon I was watching some of the pro men I had passed on the first lap start to stream by.

Excited that I was approaching Old Sauk Pass Road, where I would see our race group's spectators, a small disaster struck. I felt my wheel starting to go flat. Looking down and confirming this, I started feeling anxious about what was to come: a tubular tire change that I'd never done in a race before, and with an older tire I had taken off a few years ago, the glue having not been re-applied. Stupid of me. I figured, like everyone else, that I wouldn't need it ... that it wouldn't happen to me ... but it was happening at that moment and I felt the weight of my stupidity weighing on my mind.

Again, luckily, it was right at the base of Old Sauk Pass, and so I took the chance to ride the slow leak up to the top where I'd have moral support to change my tire (and if it didn't work, have a place to catch a ride home).

I was soon greeted by Mugsy, running me up the hill and cheering me on. "Muggs, I got a flat..." I said. "You can't have a flat Murph!?! Whaddya talking about!?!". And so it went.

I was able to change out the tire and get back on the road in just under nine minutes, but the glue was old and brittle. Only the air pressure was holding the tire to the rim. This wasn't a good sitation. With about thirty miles left on the hilly and winding bike course, there would be plenty of opportunity to roll the tire Joseba Beloki - style (resulting in a crash that ended his career). The following footage would be all that I would think about for these next thirty miles, as I slowed to walking pace on every corner and stopped to check the tire before every downhill:



I finished the ride safely, and started to run at my planned pace of 8min/miles. A few guys in my agegroup ran past early, and I kept my planned pace knowing all too well that I could easily run into trouble if I pushed any harder.

For years I've been unsuccessful at running Marathon distances. My first Marathon is, to me, nearly an aberration. At 2:59, my 2001 Chicago Marathon stands out as a great accomplishment next to the years following: one DNF at Milwaukee in 2004 (foot pain trying to get a sub-3hr Marathon, ended at 16M), a 3:53 at Ironman length Quelle Challenge Roth in 2005, and a 3:59 at the Lincoln Marathon in 2007.

In my longest training run of 22 miles leading up to this Ironman race, I posted 8's until mile 15, then dropped the hammer in the 6:30mi/min range for a few miles to catch Karen (who'd been running in the mid-7's). I held out fine for the remaining four at mid-to-low 7mi/min pace, and could've run another 4 at that point. I determined then my pace would start slow, and build, if possible, at the end.

Back to the race, at the half marathon point I was feeling tired but still capable of running 8's. I just passed one of the guys that had passed me early on. People were pushing it too hard, and as a result, they were starting to run backwards. I held to my pace for rest of the race, falling to around 8:01's or 8:02's after 20 miles.

With about a quarter-mile to go, I saw the other guy that passed me early on, and feeling absolutely able to kill the last quarter mile, I immediately picked up the pace, running that 6:15 pace I'd hit in my 22 mile training run. Blowing past this now struggling guy at that speed would most likely break any thought of trying to catch me.

With this, I ran in with as my brother would call it "a sprinter-like kick" for the final steps of my 2008 Ironman Wisconsin. Feeling great the entire race, all the way to the end.

The best of the race were the fans. So many people out on all portions of the race - swim, bike, and run. And most importantly, the fans of our immediate group of racers - my brothers, their wives, and children, Karen's parents, my three good friends from home, and the rest of the crew that came along with John, Erin, Jarrod, and RP.

A fun race indeed. As I said, I have a new outlook on Ironman racing, and I'm so looking forward to racing at Kona in October of 2009.