Race Report

OK, I read a number of triathlon blogs, and everyone posts a race report after a big race.  Some are quite long, comprising several posts over a number of days, but after all, they just did an Ironman. Since I only ran a 5K, this race report will be quite short (depending on your level of interest in my life).

I drove over to Windsor, Missouri, for the 5K for Something or Other.  I'd registered weeks ago, but a few days before the race I learned there was a 5K in my town the same day.  Oh well, I'd paid my money, so it's off to Windsor.  I don't know, I think it's like, 20 miles away. I've actually ridden my bike there and back a couple of times, so it's not that far.

Here's Windsor:

I get there about an hour early, cause that's how I roll.  I checked in, got my obligatory tee shirt and proceeded to stand around.  I stood around so long that I saw a married couple from my church, they were going to run as well.  Other than that, I knew no one.  Had I ran in the race in my own town I'd have recognized a dozen people, and felt obliged to chat with them.

It was chilly, so I wore pants over my shorts, and I wore a jacket, figuring I'd strip them off before race time.  I didn't know the course, but I was under the impression it began and ended in the park where registration was.  At some point, everyone started walking, so I joined them, not wanting ot be left out.  I asked the fellow I was somewhat acquainted with because of our shared religion where we were going.  He said we had to take a bus to the starting point, which was over at the Katy Trail.

Here's the caboose at the starting line:

OK, cool.  I'll just leave my pants and jacket on the bus.  Pick them up later. We were trundled over to the starting line and because I'm in the very back seat of the bus, I'm the last to get off. I ask the bus driver, "Are you going back over to the park?" She answered in the negative, and then said something I'm still puzzled about. "I'm going back to the school. You guys will have to walk back."  Did she know nothing of her assignment that day, or was she only given the route, the rest kept top secret?  She reminded me of a special forces helo pilot.

At any rate, I can't leave my pants and jacket on the bus. Well crap.  I hate it when I plan the work but then can't work the plan.  I'd have to run with my pants on.  I tied my jacket around my waste.  Thankfully it was chilly that morning, so I never did get overheated, but there's another problem, I really have to pee, and I don't see a toilet close by.  Personally, I'm not opposed to public urination. I don't see what the big deal is really, but I figured even in Windsor it wouldn't be looked upon favorably with so many women folk around, some in their teens. I'd have to run with a full canteen.

We all got up around the starting line, and some lady explained the course. Go this way, turn right onto the pavement, arrive at the park.  I eyed the competition.  There were two or thee guys and a couple of ladies that looked like serious runners.  The rest may not have known what we were doing there, like the bus driver. I'm kidding, they knew. 

Read set go. Everyone took off like a bat out of hell.  I'm serious.  Everyone from the 12 year-olds to the 60 year-olds.  I thought I was running with Usain Bolt. A pack of Usain Bolts.  No matter, after the first half mile I'd passed just about all of them.  After one mile there were probably 6 or 7 people ahead of me, including one girl.  I finally passed the girl.  Now there were about 6 guys ahead. I couldn't tell exactly how many because some of them were way out front.  I ran down two of them, passing the second with about three quarter miles to go, but by that time the lead runner was probably finishing.

I crossed the finish line in about 22 or 23 minutes. I forgot to stop my clock when I crossed and I didn't stick around for the medal ceremony. 

The next day at church the guy I know handed me a medal. He said I got second in my age group. Wow! I can't tell you how proud I was to know that I went all the way to Windsor, Missouri and got second place for my age group. I'm serious, I can't tell you that.

OK, enough for now.

My Life in Tee Shirts

Picked up this up circa 1988, making it my oldest tee. It says Denali National Park Alaska.  I'm sure I got it somewhere near there. We didn't get to hike it or anything, but rather looked at it from afar in the safety of the visitors center.  I distinctly remember someone feeding a chipmunk.  That's adventure in the Alaskan wilderness! Also pictured is the back of the tee. I honestly don't believe it's tattered because of its age, but rather its quality. I can't wear it anymore, because I can't wash it.  But how can I toss it?

Colorado, circa 1992. I love to ski, but do it about as often as I wear this shirt, which is hardly ever.

Ok, probably my favorite shirt of all time.  Got this at Murphy's Mart in Logan, OH, in about 1994.

From 1995. NYC, some street vendor. I lived in KS at the time, so I had to have it.  Also, I have that .38 Smith and Wesson pictured on the front.

1995 was a big year for tees.  This one hails from Haifa, Israel.  They patrol the streets with these things. The Uzis, not the tee shirts.  If you ever make it to Israel, there are plenty of sites to see, the tomb of David, Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Via Dolorosa, but above all, don't miss the falafels.

I was in the Navy from '93-'97.  I served on board the USS Gunston Hall, the Marine 7th Comm Battalion, and finally the Seabees. I still have a number of these olive green shirts. Or are they brown? I can't tell.

This was a gift from my dear wife, 4-5 years ago. I never feel more like a nerd than when I wear this one. Though it depicts a great scene from Monty Python's Holy Grail, it's not my favorite scene.  My favorite scene is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch.  If you see one of those tees, let me know.

Here's a couple of recent acquisitions.  They, too, reveal my nerdiness.  I don't read comic books or anything, I just like the imagery of Superman and Batman.  The Batman logo glows in the dark!

There you have it.  I'm so glad that I had time to write this very important and inspiring post. As an extra treat, here is the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch scene.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOrgLj9lOwk&feature=fvsr

Swim Like the Wind

It's a little known fact among the general public that swimming is actually very difficult.  It can be every bit as difficult as riding a bike up a steep hill.  That's what I've found, anyway.

I learned to swim quite by accident.  I inched my way deeper and deeper in the pool, and all of a sudden found I'd taken one step too many.  I could yell for help (embarrassing), or I could tread water and doggy paddle back to safety.  That I did.  All that and only 38 years old!

Ha ha. I might have been six or seven when I learned to swim, but I remember going to boot camp, and there were fellows there that couldn't swim.  They lined us up at the pool and asked, "Who can't swim?"  Surprisingly to me, there were a number of guys in my company that raised their hands.  Then they took all of us and, one by one, made us jump off a three meter platform.  I think we had to cross our arms and legs as we jumped.  The whole point was to prove we could, in fact, swim. Or not.  Even the fellows that said they couldn't swim had to jump.  To their credit, they all jumped.  I still admire those guys for that.  The drill was, if they needed help, they'd reach out their hands and grab a pole that the instructor held out.  I still found it humorous, though, as each of those non-swimmers sunk below the water. I just couldn't imagine a grown person not swimming.

So here I am, 38 years old, at the pool, trying not to drown, and hoping somebody will extend a pole to me.  No such luck. I have to make to the edge on my own.

I'm trying to strengthen my stroke for a couple of races I hope to be in this summer.  Well, I generously call what I do a swimming stroke. It's more like a mad thrash in an attempt to not drown. And all that thrashing makes you tired. Nothing makes you feel more out of shape that swimming.  But it's getting better.  I used to have to rest at 25 yards (our town's pool is 25 yards long), but yesterday I was able to do 800 yards, only resting every 200 yards.  You can rest in the open water at a triathlon, can't you?

Endurance is obviously a big component to swimming well, but so is form. I'm working on that as well. Did I hire a coach? No way, I watch YouTube videos. I'm serious! You can find a google of instructional videos out there. Right now, I have the swimming form of a drunk monkey, but I'm confident that after buffering several hundred swimming clips, I'll be swimming just like the greatest and most decorated swimmer of all time, a mermaid.

Enough for now.  I would include a pic our our pool, but I think the old ladies that swim laps with me might find it uncomfortable if I brought a camera in there and started snapping photos (oh, don't worry about it ladies, it's just for my blog, on the internet). Instead of swimming pics, here's a Saab 900T I used to own. Enjoy!

First Day of Spring!

Some pics from the first day of Spring here in Missouri.

The snow actually got deeper after I snapped this.

The snow is still falling.

The Lotus I may end up riding in my triathlon.

If the snow would ever melt, I'd hit the trail on my Schwinn.

Who I'm Jealous Of

Here's who I'm jealous of right now:

• Dudes that can grow those big, thick, furry beards.  I'm talking about when you can't tell if it's a bear rug strapped to their face or not. I happen to be blessed with a distinct lack of body hair.  Most days I'm thankful for that physical trait passed to me by my Father.  But every once in a while I'd like to be able to grow out a pelt on my cheeks and chin that would make a French trapper proud.  When I do go a few days without shaving my face looks like it's having a bad reaction to prescription meds.  The whiskers grow in random patches and you can measure the distance between the individual folicles with a wooden ruler.  So yeah, I can't even do stubble very well.
• Bloggers that can readily think of that crucial second point in any list of three things.
• That guy that reviews movies for Focus on the Family.  Have you heard of this guy? He can be found here: http://www.pluggedin.com/movies.aspx  I always feel a little guilty when I get a movie, start watching it, see some horribly violent or salacious scene, and think, "Well, I hope the kids don't walk in about now."  At Plugged In they go ahead and watch all these movies with the express purpose of warning me that there are scenes like that.  Evidently the rating information isn't enough. Hmm.  I'm going to start a website where, as a Christian, I review alcoholic beverages and strip clubs so that I can, you know, warn people not to do that.

I watched There Will Be Blood last night. My wife didn't want to watch because she heard it was too violent.  It was rated R "For some violence".  Well, there was a fight or too, and then one fellow got shot. Most of the violence involves terrible derrick accidents.  No nudity, hardly any language.  I didn't quite finish the movie last night. There were about 15 minutes left, so I thought I'd finish this morning.  I started it, and then my daughter got out of bed and came down and sat on my lap. We watched as Daniel Day-Lewis told that other guy that he drinks his milkshake.  Then, Daniel (also his name in the movie), without any warning, clubs him to death with a bowling pin.  I tried to cover my daughter's eyes, but she wouldn't have it.  As the blood spread over the bowling alley, my daughter remarks, "Now he's in trouble."  I wish someone would've told me they saved the most violent act for the end.

I know it's wrong to be jealous, but sometimes I can't help it.

Sick of It

It started as a head cold. It's moving to my lungs. I can feel it. My throat is starting to hurt when I cough. That's when I know I'm in it for the long haul.

That's not supposed to happen when you start getting serious about running.  My Mother and Grandmother would probably agree that you don't go running out in the cold. "You'll catch pneumonia."  I have a different understanding of how people get sick, but dang it, I don't have time for this.  Pneumonia be damned! I'm going running (you'll find my body not more than 4.5 miles from home).

I stated earlier that I'm preparing for my first triathlon.  Real triathletes will scoff, but the run in this one is 4.5 miles.  It took me awhile, but I finally found a good route around the 'hood that's four and a half miles, keeps me off main roads, and has a couple good hills. I ran it in 42 minutes.  Pathetic.  Once the weather warms and I am whole again, I hope to shave at least 10 minutes off of that.  We'll see.

Two more things. One, I recognize the need for a training log of some sort. Two, I have a lot more time to listen to podcasts, while running, so I need to find a few more to subscribe to.

How to Get in Shape

Run a triathlon. That's how I see it.

Well, competing in one triathlon probably won't get you into good shape. What I mean is, commit to running a triathlon and you'll be forced to train, which, if done correctly, certainly will get you into shape.

I signed up to compete in the Shawnee Mission Triathlon on July 11, 2010. I use the word compete rather loosely, because I very much doubt that I'll be competitive. However, I have wanted to be in a triathlon for a long time, but never committed. Now I have. I paid the $80 entry fee and everything.

This triathlon consist of a .62 mile swim (1000 meters), an 18 mile bike ride, and a 4.5 mile run. I've worked out on a semi-regular basis, off and on, more or less, for a long time, but I've never trained with any real goal in mind. I realize now, thinking about those distances listed above, that I need to be a little more disciplined in my regiment. And since the day I mailed in my entry form, I have.

In the past, if it were too cold, too wet, too much TV, I could very easily make an excuse to not get out. I find that now even on wet days I'll drive over the community center and run there (which I hate to do [if you want to talk, go to the coffee shop and stay out of the jogging lane!]).

We'll see how this goes. A wife, three kids, a house, and a yard are all things I will have to give time to besides training-and I'm glad to do. Oh, I almost forgot, TV watching and a full time job, those things will take time away from training as well. I'm less enthused about that!

So, more on this later, I hope. I'm trying really hard to not let this become one of those things I get excited about now, but forget in a month or two. I already spent eighty bucks, after all!