Running in the Footsteps of an American Hero

I suddenly realized I was in over my head – out of my element, 3,000 miles from home – awash in a sea of humanity, packed shoulder-to-shoulder, on a street in Brooklyn, New York, under the shadow of a deserted freeway ramp. The big city loomed off in the distance, well beyond the entrance to the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel just a few hundred yards in front of us. The National Anthem. A quick announcement. And a gun. The crowd trudged forward. Walking at first, then shuffling. Soon I was at a dead run – scurrying as fast as my not very lean legs would take me. I followed the masses down into the tunnel.

It had happened a little more than 5 years before. September 11th, 2001. Everyone remembers what they were doing that morning. I spent the day, like everyone else, taking in the images; planes hitting towers, towers crumbling, aerial views of smoke and ash. Iconic towers reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble. It wasn’t until later that day that my story diverged a bit from the norm. My mom called. I remarked how her sister Jackie and my uncle Russ were fortunate to live on Long Island, far from Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan.

“Yes, Mike.” She said. “Jackie and Russ are fine. We’re just concerned about Stephen.”

We were kindred spirits, Stephen and I, separated by a continent and a couple of years. Come holidays and summer vacations, we would bond. He, being older, was a role model for me. Strong and athletic. A city kid. Confident and outgoing. We would play sports for hours and I found myself practicing, wishing that I could be as good as him someday. Stephen was Russ’ youngest brother and had come to live with my aunt and uncle after losing his parents at too young an age. There was trouble – as is easily found in late nights in the Big Apple - and then finally peace, when he married his childhood sweetheart and settled down to raise a family. He wondered how things had turned out so well for him. He wanted to give back. So he joined the Fire Department of New York.

They hold a run there every year now. It starts where he started. It finishes at the end. I went because I was now a runner, trying to find some fitness. Life had taken its toll. Day-in, day-out. “Desk job,” I blamed. My once lithe, athletic physique became 50 lbs. heavier than it should be – and not so lithe nor athletic. I made a choice and gradually (and inconsistently) made it back towards what I figured was respectability. Still hovering around 200 lbs., I could run five miles (if I took some breaks). I emailed Jackie and told her that I wanted to do the run.

Stephen had left the fire station earlier that morning. Off for a few days. Looking forward to spending the day playing golf with Russ and their two other brothers. Later, there would be time with the family – Sally and the 5 children. But there was confusion on the scanner. A plane hit one of the towers? And another? Golf plans were interrupted. Stephen headed towards Manhattan, but the tunnel was shut down. No vehicles were being allowed through. No matter, he parked his truck, grabbed his gear and headed down into the tunnel.

That was my first road race. The Stephen Siller Tunnel-to-Towers 5k run/walk. September 26, 2006. I finished…barely. Clad in an XL cotton memorial t-shirt, baggy shorts and shoes that “looked good so I bought ‘em online”, I did as advertised and “followed in the footsteps of an American hero”. The first mile was ok: I chuffed along in the tunnel, running much too fast, downhill in the dark, amongst the patter of footfalls and the occasional whoop. The second mile was difficult – made bearable only by the encouragement of the 343 flag-wielding firefighters that line side of the tunnel, each representing one of their brothers lost that day. Up out of the tunnel, still running, but not much left in the tank. A mile to go – “are you kidding me?” Cheerleaders, people lining the streets. Out around the Embarcadero and I’m gassed. Encouraged by other runners, I pick it up and push on through to the end. I’m humbled and relieved. My own disappointment is washed away by the sheer volume of support the family has received from the community.

Still, Stephen is gone.

Almost four years have passed and I am now a runner. The excess weight is gone. I have run several marathons, including Boston twice (Jackie and Russ were there at the finish this year). I have completed an Ironman. It is September 11th – nine years after we lost Stephen somewhere in the ruins of the World Trade Center. I ran a race today – a half marathon on the Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton. I ran with the leaders for the first couple of miles (once again, over my head – not out of my element, but running too fast, downhill, amongst the patter of footfalls). The first half was ok: I cruised along through the valley. The second half was difficult – made bearable not by a multitude of encouraging firefighters, but by the memory of one. I am not religious. I have never considered myself especially spiritual. But towards the end of the race, no longer running with the leaders (and overtaken by a handful of other runners, my podium hopes dashed), I needed some help. I thought of the courage it must have taken to run towards Ground Zero when everyone else was running for their lives. I may have been suffering, running by myself and out of contention, but I was not alone. There were some tough times out on the course today. There were hills. And heat. But this time there was no stopping. We pushed on through to the end.

Last Training Weekend Before IM CDA

Well, it's here. The last week before the Ironman. All of the hard work in training is done. Just a few more swims, another run and one more bike workout before packing everything up and heading to Idaho.

Did a two-mile Cove-Shores-Cove swim on Friday - first swim of the year w/o wetsuit. Temp was posted at 64 degrees, but it felt warmer out on the open water.

Saturday was the TCSD coastal club ride. Got out off the front for the first couple of miles, got caught and then traded pulls most of the way up to the Oceanside Harbor. The plan was to take it easy on the way back, but you know how that goes...did a little 2.5 mile brick run off the bike and it felt pretty good. Picked up the bike case in the afternoon.

Today was my last "long" run. 13.1 miles at Lake Miramar: 1:36. Tried to keep it easy for a while to simulate the start of the IM run. Started off at 7:57 & 7:25, but once I noticed I was settling into about a 7:20 pace, I just kept it there. Picked it up towards the end and finished with a 6:45.

I think I'm ready. Not much I can do about it if I'm not. This season has been filled with long rides, runs, races and a bit of swimming. Hopefully, I will enjoy the actual race!

Planning two more masters swims, a Shores swim, a track workout (6x400) and some type of speed workout on the bike.

By this time next week, if all goes well, I should be recovering with some pizza and beer.

Pace Report: SD Endurance 100

Mount Laguna, CA
June 12-13, 2010

Yes, that’s right…100 Miles!
This past weekend, I participated in the San Diego 100 Endurance Run. No, that does not mean I ran 100 miles. I merely served as a “pacer” for a friend, Seung Lee, who took on the full 100-mile challenge. The course is made up mostly of winding singletrack trails through Mount Laguna, Pine Valley and Cuyamaca in east San Diego County. For this particular event, each runner must travel the first 51.3 miles on their own. For the last 48.8 miles (the official race distance is actually posted at 100.1 miles), they may be accompanied by a single pacer. In addition to helping their runner maintain pace, a pacer’s responsibilities include help with navigation and decision making, offering encouragement and companionship during dark periods as well as reminders to stay on top of nutrition & hydration throughout the race. Basically, keep your runner upright, fed, hydrated and moving forward.

There’s Crazy, and then there’s Ultra-Crazy
As a triathlete and marathoner, I am familiar with long training days that go hand-in-hand with endurance racing, but I have always been in awe of those that tackle these “ultra” endurance events. I joke that the marathon is enough for me and, in fact, I would be quite fine if it were only 20 miles, as opposed to the rather arbitrary number of 26.2. I am getting ready to participate in Ironman Coeur d’Alene in a few weeks, but even heading into a notoriously challenging event like an Ironman, I know that I will be finished by the end of the day. There will be a bed waiting for me. If I meet my goals, I will finish before the sun goes down. I will travel 140.6 miles but 112 of those miles will be sitting on my bike. Seung started the San Diego 100 Endurance Run at 7:00 A.M. His goal was to finish before the 31-hour cutoff (and perhaps shave a couple of hours off of that). Regardless, he knew that he would be running for an entire day, through the night, before finishing sometime before 2:00 P.M. the following day.

The Crew
Seung made arrangements to have one of our friends, Chris Sigel, pace him from mile 51.3 to 80.3 – 29 miles, mostly through the cold night. Chris is a much stronger runner than I am and has a lot more trail running experience. He has won a 25k trail race. Since I had the Ironman coming up, it made more sense for me to take the less challenging 20-mile section, from 80.3 to the finish. I was nervous about what might happen, traipsing around in the wilderness two weeks before one of the most important races of my life, but Seung needed help and there was no way I was going to let him wander around out there alone. He thanked me for agreeing to pace and told me he would owe me. I said, “You won’t owe me. Just finish the damn thing!”

We met for Dinner the Thursday night before the event and studied the maps, directions and crew instructions. Seung gave us his strategy for the race and said he would call me when he reached the previous aid station to the one at which I would be taking over for Chris. It was 8 miles away from where I would be meeting them and Seung said it would take between 2 and 2½ hours for them to get there. I live about an hour away, so I would have plenty of time to get parked, set up and in position to pace him for the remainder of his journey.

The Wait
Throughout the day on Saturday, I received occasional updates on Seung’s progress. I finished my last long bike ride for Coeur d’Alene in the morning and then just hung around the house in the afternoon, following whatever information I could find regarding his position. We had a few other friends out on the course, racing and pacing, and I was able to get a pretty good idea of where he was. I had an early dinner and tried to get some rest. There was a time cutoff for Seung to get to Chris at the 51.3-mile mark: 9:00 P.M. I had spoken with Chris a few times and it looked like Seung was going to make it. When I hadn’t heard from anyone by 10:00, I figured he had made it and they were off and running together. I got off the couch, set my alarm for 3:00 and tried to get some sleep.

I was awakened by a call from Chris sometime after midnight. He said Seung was doing okay and it looked like they would be getting to the 72.3 aid station very close to the cut-off time of 4:00 A.M. He requested that I bring some anti-inflammatory meds.

I was up with the alarm at 3:00 A.M. and started to get my things together. I was wondering if Seung was going to make the cutoff. Was I going to get the call? Was it going to be the call I wanted? I received messages from other friends wanted to know what was up. 4 o’clock came and went. I was ready to go, but still no word.

Call to Duty
At 4:12 A.M., my cell phone rung. The caller ID said it was Seung Lee. “Hello?”

“Hey Mike, it’s Chris.”

“Hey.”

“Well,” he said. “We just barely made the cutoff, by about 5 minutes. It will be at least 2½ hours until we get to the next aid station.”

I told Chris that I would be out the door shortly and at the Sunrise aid station by 6:00 – at least a half an hour ahead of when they might get there. I loaded up and headed out.

Sunrise
It’s a little more than an hour drive from my house in Scripps Ranch to the Mount Laguna Recreation Aea. I cruised along the deserted highways at dawn. Driving up Sunrise Highway, the temperature on my vehicle’s gauge said it was below 50. It looked crisp, but the sky was clear. It was not going to be a cold day. I had on a long-sleeve base layer and warm-ups over my running shorts. I might need them while waiting around, but surely not while running.

The sun was just starting to rise as I pulled into the dirt parking lot at the “Sunrise” aid station at 6:00 A.M. As you might expect, there were various trail running types milling around. Heavily bundled volunteers were attending to the various makeshift supply / medical / sign-in stations. I checked in and requested Seung’s aid station bag. They gave it to me. All I had to do was wait. And use the facilities. The one lone porta-potty was in dire condition. Someone told me there was a hole in the ground “over there” somewhere. Hmmm…I went back to the truck and double-checked my gear. I put Seung’s bag in the back and set off to find a restroom. There was a structure in the parking lot with two doors. They each had the universal unisex restroom symbol on them. I thought they must be locked since the porta-potty had overflowed and they had mentioned something about a hole in the ground.

Nope. The door opened.

Fortunately, I brought some supplies.

Ready to run, I headed back down towards the place where Chris and Seung would soon be arriving.

There were about a half a dozen runners – some with pacers, some without – that came through the aid station while I was waiting. Some looked good, some didn’t. Some announced that they weren’t going to be continuing on.

A little before 6:45, I saw Chris and Seung ambling down the trail towards the aid station. I cheered them in and asked Seung if he wanted a breakfast burrito. He did, so I placed the order and walked with him up to the restrooms. He said he was good, but there had been a close call at the last aid station when they miscalculated the distance and had to make up some time in the last few miles. The increased tempo had used up most of whatever energy he had left. Chris had been on site most of the day and all through the night. He was spent, but his work was done. He had helped get his runner through the night and now it was up to me to make sure Seung kept his wits about him so that he could finish the race.

After a quick bite, we loaded up and headed towards the rising sun. Less than 20 miles to go.

“Don’t ever do this!”
The first few miles of our trip towards the Pioneer Mail aid station were pretty uneventful. Not knowing what to expect heading into the event, I had reached out to a few veteran ultra-marathoners. Mike Alfred, a mutual friend (and 100-mile finisher), recommended that I stayed behind Seung the entire way so that I was not dictating the pace. It’s counter-intuitive to the idea of a pacer, but I figured I was more there for spiritual guidance and companionship than motivation and I didn’t want to influence Seung’s race. It seemed to work. I got a bit close sometimes and he would tell me to give him some space.

We stopped once after a couple of miles so that Seung could get some pesky debris out of one of his shoes. I took the opportunity to shed the thermal base layer and warmups and snap a few pictures of the surrounding terrain. Most of the time, I was focused on Seung’s pace and I surely spent a lot of time reading his body language and offering encouragement. While he wasn’t too interested in the view (“view, schmiew,” he uttered at one point), Seung seemed to be in better spirits than I expected.

Dead Fucking Last
Seung told me that he thought he was “DFL” – Dead Fucking Last.
He said there was honor in that and was sort of hoping to be the absolute last finisher. I didn’t care one way or another. I just wanted him to finish. We joked that he was getting the most out of the experience. He was the best sufferer. We chatted randomly and he told me stories of other runners he encountered along the way. Most everyone – if not everyone – that he had caught had dropped out.

Almost immediately, we started to calculate pace and distance. We were plugging away at about 19 minute-per-mile pace. As long as we maintained 20-minute pace, we figured we would make the cutoffs with 20 minutes to spare. We would travel 3 miles every hour. The cutoff for the next aid station was 9:30 A.M. We had started just before 7:00. We trudged along, Seung keeping an eye on the real time, me watching the average pace for each mile. The first part of this 7.2-mile leg was uphill – 1500 total feet of climb over 5 miles, then a descent to the aid station.

Jim
As we were making the descent, about a mile from the Pioneer Mail aid station, we saw another runner up ahead.

He was older than us and had no pacer. He had no hydration pack – just a couple of handheld bottles. We chatted with him and asked how he was doing as we walked along. He wasn’t doing too well. He asked how far we were from the aid station. I told him we were close, less than a mile to go. He said he was out of water. I was carrying a backpack and still had a large, almost full, bottle of water. I asked him if he wanted some and he accepted. I filled one of his bottles and we told him to come with us. He said he would see what he could do. I asked his name and he said “Jim, Jim Magill.”

“I’m Mike and that’s Seung.” I said. “You guys are amazing!”

“Next time, it will be your turn,”

I muttered something about having a little event coming up in a couple of weeks, but nothing compared to what these two men were doing.

An Unexpected Guest
When we got to the Pioneer Mail aid station, I took Seung’s hydration pack and asked the volunteers to fill it with sports drink and ice, as he had requested. As I was following the volunteer towards the table stocked with supplies, I heard Seung say, “What’s up bitch?!” It caught me a bit off guard as I didn’t think we knew Jim quite that well yet. I didn’t know who else Seung could be talking to. Turns out, I should have known. Our friend, Ed Agunos, was there at the aid station! I knew he had planned to be at the finish, but here he was. Ed took some pictures and then I snapped some of him and Seung with his camera and we started to get ready to go. The next aid station was a little more than 4½ miles away, so we would be seeing Ed again in about an hour and a half if everything held to form. When we left, Jim was still stocking up on supplies. 7.2 miles down, 12.6 to go. Just two more aid stations and then the finish. About three 4-mile chunks and that was it. Just make it to the next aid station. We could do that.

We meandered on. Occasionally shuffling, mostly walking. The terrain wasn’t all that bad through this section and we were able to maintain a sub-20-minute pace without much of a problem.

After a couple of miles, I got a glimpse of Jim coming up from behind us. He looked to be moving pretty well. Shuffling down the downhill and flat sections and walking the uphills. He was closing the gap. Seung picked up the pace. At one point, Jim came up right behind me so I let him pass and followed behind the two runners. He couldn’t pass Seung and as we eventually approached the Penny Pines aid station, he told me to pass him and stay with Seung. He dropped back a bit, but he wasn’t too far behind as we strolled into Penny Pines.

Penny Pines
Ed was waiting for us when we made it to Penny Pines. We were now just about 8½ miles from the finish. Seung had traveled more than 90 miles on foot since the race began. Jim followed us in shortly thereafter. Seung sat down and I went about filling up bottles and scouting out food that I thought he might like. At one point, he jokingly told me, “That’s it. I’m gonna DNF.”

“Yeah, right.” I said and continued rifling through the available supplies. It was slim pickings at this point. To top it off, Seung’s special needs bag was nowhere to be found. Several of the aid stations are visited twice during the event. This was the second time Seung had passed through Penny Pines and his bag, which was there when he last left, many miles before, had disappeared. The same thing had happened at the last aid station. But that was the least of our worries.

Seung started to take off his shoes and I don’t think he liked what he saw. He typically wears Injinjis, which are socks that have toes – kind of like gloves for your feet. He also had some type of after-market insoles. After more than 90 miles, his feet and toes had swelled and the toe socks and additional cushioning were limiting the circulation in his feet. He was concerned that his big toe was turning black. The toenail was a lost cause.

We were in trouble. This was one of those moments where there could be a legitimate reason to quit. “I don’t have any socks.” He said. Ed didn’t have any either. He was just wearing his sock-like running shoes, Vibram FiveFingers.

“Do you want mine?” I said. I figured I could wear Seung’s – or just go without. Oftentimes, in a shorter-distance triathlon I’ll go without socks to speed up my transition times. I’ve run a half marathon without socks. All we had to do was power walk 8 miles. I could do it no problem. I took mine off, briefly considered wearing his, but then thought about how long he had been wearing them. Nevermind.

Jim was looking for a gel or some type of electrolyte product. They were completely out. I rummaged through my pack and produced a package of Shot Bloks. I still had more than enough for us so I offered it to him. He took it, thanked me and was on his way out of the aid station.

Seung got the socks on, shoes on, got up and we headed out. We got a few steps down the trail and he had to stop. His battered toes were now rubbing together and he was hurting. He said he needed some Vaseline or something between them. He sat down and I started digging through my pack for my Aquaphor. A few dabs on his fingers and he worked it out. Socks back on, shoes back on. Off and walking...DFL again. It was a little before 11:00 A.M. There was no cutoff at the next aid station, but we had to get to the finish by 2:00 P.M. We had 3 hours to travel 8 miles. 20-minute miles would be 9 miles in 3 hours. As long as we kept moving, we would make it.

Rat Hole
By now, after four hours on the trails, Seung and I had worked out the routine. I’d remind him to drink if I hadn’t seen him take a pull on the tube of his hydration pack for a while. We would talk now and then, but when he was moving along at a good clip, I wouldn’t say a thing. I’d offer some encouragement every once and a while, but for the most part, he was shuffling along just fine. I checked my phone messages and updated my Facebook status (“8 miles to go.”). We’d look at the map every once and a while, stop for some “natural” breaks and just mostly plug away at the task at hand. We knew we would make it before the cutoff with time to spare as long as we kept the pace around the magic 20-minute mark. We came across Ed again, inside of a mile to go before the last aid station, Rat Hole. He was hanging out on a fallen tree trunk, reading and sipping a beer in his black/white/red Hincapie full road bike kit. He followed us down to Rat Hole and I asked Seung for his gameplan for this aid station. No sitting, fill up the pack and get out. It was just 3.9 more miles to the finish. I was picking through the supplies and nibbling on some trail mix when one of the volunteers behind the table pointed and asked if “that was my guy?” Seung was already making his way out of the aid station, crossing Sunrise Highway for the last time. “He looks kind of wobbly.”

“He’ll be fine.” I downed the cup of trail mix and started to jog towards Seung. A volunteer stopped me as traffic was coming from both directions. He waved the cars through and said, “Don’t worry. I don’t think you’ll have much trouble catching him.”

I thanked him for volunteering and set off after Seung for the last stretch of his race.

The Last Leg
We made it through the next few miles without incident. I could tell Seung was starting to realize that the end was near and didn’t have to worry about conservation. A few mountain bikers passed us and encouraged us when they saw he had a race number on his shorts. We passed a few groups of hikers and you could feel that we were getting close. The hills were behind us. Seung’s cadence was more determined and he would pick up the pace on the flats or any downhill. I think he was past the point of pain and fatigue. When we got to Laguna Meadow we only had a couple of miles left.

I updated my Facebook status again (“Less than 3 miles now.”) and read him the comments from my previous update. I missed a phone call from his first pacer, Chris, but had seen my updates and posted some encouragement (“keep it up, you yahoos!”).

We were getting very close to one mile to go when I saw someone up ahead at the right-hand turn at the end of the meadow. It was Jim. He was hunched over and stretching out on a fence, not looking too good. He saw us. Seung noticed him and waved, his pace quickened and then started shuffling. I followed. We got to Jim and he was in a bad way. He was having some trouble with his back. It appeared that he had been waiting for us, probably to find out how far he had left to go. I told him “one-point-one.” His spirit sunk. I thought it would be uplifting. Seung said, “It might as well be a 100 miles” as he trudged on forward.

I stayed with Jim for a bit and offered some Ibuprofen, water…anything. I told him to come with us. He was so close! He grimaced and started to move forward. He knew we were up against the clock, too, and told me to go with Seung. It was getting close to 1:30 and we just had a mile to go.

The Last Mile
We exited the meadow and ran through on gravel roads through the Al Bahr and eventually made it to some pavement.
Occasionally, we would come across campers that would shout out the time remaining, “five minutes left!” “You’re almost there!” “Two minutes!” There were several forks in the road and I helped spot out flags (surveyor’s ribbon) so that there would be no wrong turns. ANY extra distance was not an option at this point. There were some short rolling hills that were a struggle, but the last mile was the fastest that Seung ran while I was with him. He covered the last mile in about 13 minutes.

As he approached the finish line, I dropped back and took a photo.


Ed was there at the finish and was quick on the draw with some beers. Despite the limited fanfare at the end, all finishers receive a medal, a belt buckle, a finisher tech shirt and a pair of gators (those shoe cover things that keep dirt and debris from getting in your shoes).

Oh yeah…and you get to sit.

The finish line volunteers were now trying to figure out how many people were out on the course. They had received reports that there could be as many as 9 runners as of yet unaccounted for. I said, “Jim’s still out there.”

“Jim Magill?” A volunteer asked.

“Yeah. He’s not doing too well. He was having trouble with his back and he’s hunched over a bit. We just passed him in the last mile. We should see him coming soon.”

“He’s a veteran ultra guy, he’ll make it. He’s done Hardrock. Finished 2^nd at Badwater in like ‘97”

Word came through that there was only one runner still out on the course. The others had all dropped out. It was almost 1:45. Jim had about 15 minutes or he would have traveled 99+ miles, only to have not finished the race.

A few minutes later, we saw Jim through the trees, walking along the road towards us. Several people had come out of the cabins to walk with him to the finish. He was bent over, but moving forward. I stood by the side and cheered him on as he crossed the line with more than 10 minutes to spare. The race was officially over.

149 runners started, 90 finished. Seung did not have the honor of being DFL.

Catching Up & Starting the Ironman Build

O.K., well...so much for maintaining an active diary of events. I don't know how some people find the time to work, train, race AND write about it. I've found that BeginnerTriathlete.com has some pretty good tools for keeping track of training, but even still, it's hard to keep up with everything. I mostly just venture over to my own blog when reminded by reading someone else's. Looks like that's been about 4 months.

Since the last post, I ran Carlsbad (3:07), raced the Desert Tri (5th AG - no pts for the club), picked up my first podium spot of the year (3rd) at the Devil Dog Du, met a sub-5 goal in my first A-race of the year at Oceanside (4:55) and raced Superseal on a whim (4th AG) before heading off to Boston for the marathon (3:04). Then just recently, on a day where I didn't feel my best, knowing I was a bit overweight, undertrained and underrecovered, I just came in 5th o/all (2nd AG) at the Spring Sprint Du to pick up another medal. Fortunately, it seems most of the top competition was racing the Tri - or off to race up North, either at one of the Wildflower Triathlons or Escape from Alcatraz.

All of the early season racing has certainly taken it's toll (at least temporarily). I started to get sick the night after the marathon and have struggled to get back on track ever since. I'm fine now, but the last couple weeks of recovery (and poor diet) have left me feeling sluggish. I've been riding (1st 100-miler...done!) and have been getting back in the open water (a few 2-milers from Cove to Shores and back, and vice-versa), but other than the Spring Sprint, the run has been mostly non-existent. I did get in one good 8-miler before the Du, but I raced in Newtons w/o socks and that left me blistered up pretty good to the point where I couldn't run for a few days. Couple that with the fact that something happened to the Asics Nimbus I wore for Boston (they're squeaking and I suspect they've broken down). I picked up some knee issues when running in them. I'll be taking them back to RoadRunner. Sweet that they'll take them back. Just so long as I get them in this week before the 60-day return policy expires.

Another problem with the busy early season race schedule is that I missed out on Wildflower again this year. It sounds like it's a brutally tough course, but people seems to love the event and most everyone I've talked to plans to go back and "experience" it again next year. One top AGer in the Tri Club seems to manage doing the Boston / Wildflower double every year (and places ridiculously well at WF), so I guess it's doable. I just don't know if I'm up for that much suffering. Maybe one of these years, it will work out so there's a bit more time in between Boston and Wildflower.

So...the next big race of the year is coming up. The first IRONMAN event. And no, I don't mean Coeur d'Alene - it's the "Peterman" full-Iron simulation. A loooong training day here in San Diego. We're going to hit the water at La Jolla Shores shortly before 6:00 A.M. for a ~2½ mi. swim before heading out on the bike for 6-7 hours. I'll see how much I have left in the tank when it's time to run, but I'm hoping to manage at least half of the run course. I don't want to leave myself completely wasted, it will be a good chance to try out some nutrition strategies 6 weeks out from the "real" race. I have no idea how my body is going to react to 8, 9, 10+ hours of race-pace effort.

I should have a better idea of what to expect after this weekend.

2010: Week One

Well, it's been a while. One of my New Year's resolutions was to maintain a training diary. I've done alright so far - writing down training / nutrition details before bed. It's interesting how keeping a log helps to maintain focus. I've slacked over the last few days, so I thought I'd update the first few training days of the year here:

Jan 1: 50-mile ride on TT bike ("Flash"). Rode from home in Scripps out along the 56 bike path and then north on the PCH to Leucadia where I turned around and headed home. Planned to ride for about 3 hours, but I turned around after about 1:18 and ended up riding about 2:40.

Jan 2: Club ride (coastal). ~38 miles. Hammered on the way up to Oceanside, then let the group head back before cruising back to Del Mar.

Jan 3: 20.5 mi. trail run in Noble Canyon. Slow. Not many calories taken in during the run and I kinda ran out of gas on the last long incline before heading down to the parking lot. It was my longest run since Chicago and will be the longest before Carlsbad (full). Ate a lot afterwards!

Jan 4: Took Monday off from running. Bought a Continental trainer tire and set up Flash on the CompuTrainer (w/o race wheels). Rode for about 1/2 an hour.

Jan 5: Track workout at UCSD. 8 x 800m (1:30 RI). 1 mile warmup followed by reps of 3:05, 3:05, 2:59, 2:59, 3:03, 3:02, 2:59 & 2:53. 1 mile warmdown and some planks before the lights went out. My first trip to Whole Foods afterwards. Good food, but pretty expensive!

Jan 6: Very easy 5-mile lunch run at Lake Miramar. 75°. Averaged just over 8 min miles. One hour on the CT (Kona course). Not very inspired. Diet was good. Just some jerky and soup for dinner. Snuck in a Clif bar w/glass of mile for desert.

Jan 7: 5-mile mid-tempo midday run at Lake Miramar. Warm temps (73°). My Garmin was out of battery, so I just used the cheapie Timex IM stopwatch and clocked the whole run at just under 34 minutes (33:50ish). I guess I averaged about 6:45-6:50 pace.

Based on the latest track workout and today's time trial, I would say I'm looking at a marathon time of somewhere around 3:10. First swim lesson (of a three-part intermediate series) with Ruthy Vesler tonight - yikes! Can't remember the last time I did a serious pool workout. I'm in trouble! Hoping to try out some new techniques at the Cove tomorrow afternoon (if I can get out of work in time). Long ride / brick run Sat! Carlsbad course preview run Sun.

Back At It

Finally! 15 miles. Not technically a long run, but it felt long! Met with the SDR peeps at Lake Miramar on Sunday morning and banged out 3 laps, averaging 7:22. There were some rough patches, but I found my stride towards the end of each lap. Starting back up after a quick pitstop for water and electrolytes was not the most fun thing. Good company made the run bearable.

1/2 hour on the CompuTrainer in the evening (~30 min.) Spin Scan is still not where I need it to be. It's remarkable how much quicker you can pedal when you lift and thrust forward just before reaching the top of each cycle. It's just tough to maintain it as it uses different muscles. Working on it...

Decisions

Ok, so the whole interval thing didn't work out all that well last night. I hit up a friend and he said he was up at a conference, so I bagged the intervals for a 5-mile tempo run down at the Waterfront. It was good to catch up with some training buds and grab some $1.50 tacos and Red Trolley.

Have to figure out whether to do the Weds run before JCC masters swim or get out on the bike at the lake. Leaning towards the lake as my legs are still struggling to recover from Chicago. I don't know that any running between now and Sunday will help anything.

Also, seriously considering a CompuTrainer. Looks like an awesome training tool. If we have to be cooped up for the winter, might as well take advantage of the time - and technology - and get ready to make a run at a Kona spot next year!