Am I Lazy or Just a Wussie

My in-laws acquired a few chickens and the hens are laying eggs. They gave us a couple dozen eggs and I boiled three of them this morning for my AM protein. I don't know why but I feel just like a peasant in feudal France eating these eggs. I don't know if French peasants even ate eggs. I guess because someone I know actually gathered the eggs it makes them more rustic.

The French today enjoy watching pro cyclists ride through their country in a spectacle known in English as "Le Tour de France." If at forty-one I ever hope to compete in le Tour I need to start training on the bike. But getting outside and actually taking your bike with you is such a hassle! There's traffic, weather, and who knows what else?

Enter indoor trainers. I'm contemplating getting one of these things but would obviously like to make the right decision before I plunk down however many francs these things cost. I read a few reviews on Amazon and I have read about other cyclists using them, but I'd like to know if they'd be right for me. At least one plus I see with them is you're training on your own bike, so maybe it wouldn't be exactly like training outside, but at least you're sitting on your own saddle.

A pricier option is a stationary bike. This option worries me a little because I've rarely ridden one that felt anything like riding a real bike. I did ride one at a Y recently that was pretty good. It had aero bars and everything. I looked at the reviews for the Proform le Tour trainer, but the reviews are mixed, people aren't happy with the customer service, and it weighs in at about €926. That's a lot of bread for a peasant like me if I don't end up liking it.

Or, should I just go outside and ride? Wouldn't that make more sense? After all, if you want to do triathlon and cyclocross, you have to get used to the weather. I know I can read the All Seasons Cyclist and be well outfitted for any condition, and I do hope to make it out more this winter on my 'cross or trail bike, but sometimes I'd like to go down to the garage in the morning before work and knock out forty-five minutes of riding without too much hassle.

One other issue I complain about regularly is the lack of good roads around my town. I live in a thriving metropolis with a population of about 9,000 people. You would think there would be a good country road where I could ride for miles and miles without even thinking about it. There are some roads, but they don't have shoulders, and with the curves and the rolling hills I'm too nervous to get out on them. So I do most of my long rides on the Katy Trail, an old railway line converted to a biking trail here in Missouri. It's OK and I appreciate it being there very much, but it is flat and covered in fine gravel, so it's not exactly like riding on the road either.

If you have any suggestions, let me know. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go and gather some lovely filth.

Red Red Whine

In yesterday's post I related how I had a bad race in Branson last Sunday. I was pretty disappointed, during, and after, the race. Heck! I'm still a little disappointed right now. But I own that bad race.

I talked about how my back tightened up and made it hard to get good deep breaths. At one point I thought I might die, but I realized it would be a slow death, slow enough to let me finish the race, so I might as well keep moving. I think the reason my back gave me that trouble on the run is because I didn't train enough on the bike. I think my back was reacting to being in the aero position for so long, which it's not accustomed to doing.

I also know that if I'm really honest I'd say I don't really 'train', but rather, 'exercise'. Even though I track my times and efforts and all that, it's been a while since I've put that information to use. That's the main problem with my swim. I'm happy to just knock out a certain distance. I need to incorporate some time goals and work to achieve them. Space and time, just like that famous triathlete Einstein told us about.

Even in the midst of that run last Lord's Day, I remembered something I read the night before. I ran across an article on some triathlon site about things to remember on race day. Probably a little late to start getting ready for a race the night before, but the last thing on the list was something like, "Be thankful you are able to race." So I had to give thanks for being out there, even as a man with a prosthetic leg passed me. Props to him.

So what now? Man, last Sunday I said I was never doing a triathlon again! Today I'm looking at full Ironman races and trying to decide which would work out best for me. Actually, I think if I get into a full Ironman I want to meet some intermediate goals before I even sign up. But that's tricky, because a lot of these races fill up so fast. And I'm disappointed that the St. George race in Utah is now a half Ironman. Wisconsin sells out the day registration opens (what is it with that race?). So maybe TX or Louisville? Any thoughts?

At any rate, I did work out today for the first time since last Sunday. Squats, deadlift, and crunches. Twenty-four minutes all together. I recorded the weights and sets, but it was really just a light set to get back into the swing of things. Let's see if I can get any better at the next workout.

ps. BTW, normally you can follow me on Twitter, @kenkenkenusa, but yesterday I broke my iPhone (I know, I'm very sad). My son and I decided to go shoot skeet. At one point we were messing with the cord you pull, and I set the launcher. Cut to the launcher getting released and hitting me in the leg. I didn't think much of it at first, but then I thought, "That didn't hurt as much as I thought it would." And then, "Oh crap! My phone is in my pocket." Sure enough the screen got shattered. It still displays the time and the lock screen photo, but I can't "Slide to unlock." So, we may make a trip to the Apple store tomorrow.

The Big Branson 70.3 Bust

or

How Bad Do I Suck at Triathlon?

or

Time to Start Blogging About Something Else

Wow! What a let down. I knew my time wouldn't be great, but c'mon man!

Last Sunday I participated in the Branson 70.3 Ironman race. I say 'participated' because I didn't 'compete'. I was present. I, in fact, finished the race, but only after several others finished ahead of me.

My goal was to do just a little better than last year. In 2011 I finished in 7:10, and it took 4:05 to get through the bike course. So I thought I'd push it just a bit more on the bike and get done that much sooner. Everything went as planned, until I started running, my strongest event.

The day started early at Moonshine Beach. Normally it's an Army Corps of Engineers park, and the water is surprisingly clear. The water was also surprisingly warm. At 74 degrees it was warmer than the air, but still wetsuit legal. I got my transition all set up and got my wetsuit on and decided I should hit the port-a-potty once more before my wave started.

Normally urinating in a port-a-potty is uneventful, if not really smelly. You don't expect to be put on display when you're in there. There were about fifteen port-a-johns lined up but there were only five or six lines of people taking turns to get into one. Everyone was standing 10-15 feet back from the doors and nobody was going into a john unless they saw someone come out. There was no one going down the line knocking on doors looking for an empty one.

So with that knowledge I stepped into the head and didn't feel it necessary to lock the door. About midstream I hear a knock. "Just a second!" I say. Knock again. "Just a second!" At this point the door opens and a young lady is standing there (mid 20s?). If I opened a port-a-potty door and there was anyone in there I'd probably get that door shut in half a second and be embarrassed. This girl lingered! I tried to keep my back to her but I turned my head around and looked her in the eye. She did not meet my gaze. I swear to you it seems like she was trying to get a look at my johnson. It's like she was trying to see what I was holding in there. And it's not like she was, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" and then slammed the door. It was more like, "Oh, let me see what this guy is holding over there. What is that? Oh well, he obviously doesn't want me to see. I guess I'll close the door and go wait in line."

So with that out of the way, I decided to go for a swim with a few other guys 40-44 years old. I finished this 1.2 mile swim in 48:04 in 2011, in 2012 I finished in 48:12. Lost a few seconds, but consistent, uh? Pretty slow, too. I don't know why I swim so slowly, but my wife diagnosed my stroke and said I'm "methodical."

On to the bike. Last year I had no idea about my pace, speed, or anything while riding. So this year I brought my Garmin just so I could make sure I maintained some sort of minimum speed. I calculated that if I averaged 17 miles per hour I could finish in about three hours. After the first loop I could see that wasn't going to happen. There's about 3,000 feet of total ascent. If you don't believe the hills in Branson are steep and long, read anyone else's blog that did this race. I haven't read one where the blogger says, "There were hills, but they weren't that bad." Up hill I'd hit 7-9 miles per hour. Down hill I'd get up to around 38 MPH. Others say they went much faster (50+). I'm too much of a wuss to stay in the aero position on those down hills.

I finished the 56 mile hilly, non-flats, bike course in 3:44! That's 20 minutes better than 2011. I was happy getting off the bike. I started running, and my happiness ended.

As soon as I got off the bike and started running pain went through my midsection and around to my back. Not my lower back, it was all up around my ribcage. At first I couldn't figure out what was going on. I'd never experienced this kind of pain before. My first thought was I had eaten too many goos and my gut was reacting, but it wasn't that kind of pain. After probably three or four miles I finally figured out what was going on.

For whatever reason the muscles in my back started to spasm. When they did it constricted my ribcage and it got hard to breathe. I would literally have to force myself to take deep breaths, but when I did, more spasms. So I would slow down and walk until things calmed down. Then I'd start running, and with each step I could feel the muscles getting tighter and tighter. As they'd tighten they forced these little grunts out of me. So as people ran by they'd hear, "Huh, ugh, uh, erh." Finally I would have to walk again.

I really thought I'd get through this after the after the first few miles, but it persisted the whole race. I had to walk several times. I stopped and bent over a few times. At one point I crouched down and some dude told me not to stop and to not sit down, so I kept going. Once while I was walking a girl walked past me and said she didn't know if it hurt more to run or walk. I said walking hurt my pride but running hurt my body.

I finally finished the 13.1 mile run in 2:55. In 2011 it was 2:06. I was disappointed to say the least.
Well, this is long enough already. I have more to talk about, like the tallest guy ever to ride a bike and other observations while racing. I'll have to save them for another post. Sorry, no pics. My wife and I didn't even think to take the camera.

The Grossest Part About Cycling

Today, Labor Day, I got in 56 miles on the bike, completing the 70.3 weekend! Yeah!
It got hot out there today. It was 91 degrees when I got back, and I was feeling it. Over the 56 miles I saw a number of other cyclists, a few turtles, and two horses with riders. Oh, and I only fell off my bike once.

Warning: Skip down to the asterisks if you do not wish to read about cycling and male physiology.

Sometimes on these longer rides I develop a little discomfort in the Nethers. Of course I try to reposition myself on the saddle to alleviate my discomfort, but eventually I realize it's going to take some, uh, manual manipulation to rectify the situation. So, I look around to make sure there are no witnesses, and then I, um, reach down to free myself, as it were. That really should be all I write about that, but there is one more thing to say about it. The point of relaying this to you is that once I've found myself, often I can't feel it because it's numb, like when you lie on your arm too long. Am I the only one? I'm sure this is where the phrase "numb nuts" comes from.

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I saw a dude out riding today, and though his bike wasn't exactly a recumbent, the guy had a chair for a saddle. I'm not kidding. It had a back and a nice wide seat and everything. Man, I bet he never has to re-adjust. I wonder if he even wears bike shorts.

Warning: Skip down to the asterisks if you don't want to read about bike shorts.

The grossest thing about cycling is the bike shorts. I'm not talking about how us guys look wearing them, though you could make a case for that. I'm talking about that giant pad in the bottom that's intended to cushion your ride. I still feel like a newbie, so I remember when I got my first pair of shorts, looked on the inside and thought, "What the what? Someone sewed a Depends up in these things!" And this is why it's so gross; I assume you're not supposed to wear undies with you bike shorts.

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Occasionally I tell people yes, when you first start riding you'll be sore in a few places you're not supposed to be sore, but the more you ride the more comfortable you get. I still get achy in my lower back when riding, but after researching a little more, it seems like I just need to ride more miles, and perhaps work on my core. Lately I've been trying to stretch my lower back as well. I'm not great at stretching out, I haven't made it a habit, but I think it's helped my back.

OK, I need to go. I gotta get the grill going and get my protein grilled. Happy Labor Day!

Katy Trail

Cold Water Training

Yesterday I got up and the thermometer said the temperature outside was 56 degrees. Burr! I went on over to the pool, which is about a block from my house. Normally it isn't that close, but through July and August it is. Well, the city drains the indoor pool every July for cleaning and maintenance. Generally they open it back up in August. While it's closed they open the outdoor pool in the morning for lap swimming. This August, however, we are still swimming in the outdoor pool because they lack a part to fix the indoor pool. I don't mind swimming outside. In fact, I prefer it, but I forgot what 56 degrees felt like this summer.

At any rate, I get into the water, and promptly freeze my butt off. Since the pool is a block from home, I decide to go home and get my wetsuit. I acquired said wetsuit circa 1996 when I was stationed in Okinawa and did some diving. Now I know why I kept it all these years. Actually, I thought the suit performed well, and I'll probably wear it at the Branson 70.3 next month. It's only 3mm thick. I understand the maximum allowed by rule is 5mm. I may look like a dork swimming with a diving suit (it has these pieces of plastic that cover the knees), but that's OK, I'll save a few bucks. Last year I rented a wetsuit.

The only thing about this wetsuit is that it was hard to get off. I may swim again in the morning with it, but I'll try that body glide and see if that helps me get it off. It's sleeveless, which after using a full-sleeved one last year, I decided to go with anyways, but it's still hard to get it off past my ankles and heels.

Today, the last day I had off before back to work tomorrow, I rode 33 miles and then ran a 5K. The temps were in the mid 80s when I got done at around noon, so a can't complain about that, not this summer. If the water is as cold tomorrow as it was Monday, I may feel obligated to complain about that, though.

I'm Training for Cyclocross

Well, not really. Not in a real way. My training is pretty pathetic.  I read these blogs about people going out on these 1,000 mile bike rides in the morning and I think, "I don't really know how to ride a bike, do I?"

It's hard to train for a ride when you don't know what the distance is.  The race is in Hermann, MO at the city park. There are some stairs to climb. Other than that I don't know anything else.

I have practiced jumping off my bike, picking it up, and then carrying it over an obstacle.  So far, no one's seen me do this.  I'm sure they'd think I was crazy. To add to the crazy, when I do it I act like I'm in a big hurry. So I can only imagine what that looks like.

"WTH?! What's that boy doin'?"

In my neck of the woods there's this old road that is closed off. I presume they closed it sometime after they built the dam. At any rate, it is subject to flooding, which leaves all kinds of debris in the form of logs scattered across the old pavement.  It's quite secluded, and I've only seen someone back there once, but they were fishing off the first bridge.  I'd say the entire length of the closed road is about a mile, so once you get beyond that first bridge, you're not likely to see very many people.

Where was I going? Oh yes. So I tear down that road, hopping off my bike to carry it over the logs, hopping back on riding some more.  Wow, just reading that back it does sound crazy. Perhaps if I were in the company of other cyclists it would look more normal. Alone it appears I've got some kind of obsessive compulsion. "Must carry bike and jump over log. Didn't do it right. Must do it again."

OK, enough for now. Search YouTube for Hermann Cyclocross. You'll find it. Enough for now.

Hermann Cross