fuck Ironman

World Triathlon Corporation, who put on Ironman(tm), the events I refuse to go to because they are insanely expensive- $550 for a one-day race- and pride themselves on exclusivity just started a program to get early entry in races that costs $1000 a year. A thousand dollars just to register early. Some have called it the Country Club program.

Is anyone surprised? I'm not. This is capitalism at it's ugliest- exploiting those with more resources to line your own pockets- at the expense of those with less. And because they are so big it makes it harder for smaller race organizers to put on events. If they kept doing what they do- taking money from rich people to make themselves richer I wouldn't care as much. I still wouldn't go to their fucking races, but I wouldn't be as mad about it. But it affects any of us who want to do a long-course swim, bike, run because there are fewer and fewer alternatives. And those of us without thousands of extra dollars.

I put off doing an 'iron-distance' because of the association with Ironman-trademark and I'm wondering if I ever want to do one again. There need to be more events like Vineman .

This video nails it. Thanks Treystone!

Vineman photos

Thanks Chris for 'screen-shooting' these! Photos from ASI Photography.

The one technical section. Picked up some time here. Ha.

I'm going faster than it looks. Er, probably not. Nevermind.

Sure, The Zapatistas and the 1968 Olympic Black Power salute are with left hands, but I am also left-handed.



1st place, beard division.

2010 Vineman

Vineman full-iron, yo. Pretty tight. Haven't done this multi-sport thing in two years. Appeals to the ADHD me. Also to the Zone-3, no jump in me. 8th/79 in age-group, 45th/527 overall. The 4-hour marathon deal at the end has me pretty amped. Put in some serious work there. Here's the breakdown:

Pre-race
Drove from Portland to Oakland two days before. Fun and beautiful. Stopped in Ashland, Oregon, recently voted best trail-running city in the country where, fortunately for me, hung out with a new trail-running friend I met at the Badwater Ultra-marathon when I was there as an official. Unfortunately, Lacy and I didn't have time to go running with her, so we did the next best thing which was hang out at the Ashland Food Co-op. Another city, another vegan donut.

Sonoma County hang- I've some family in Sonoma which was our base. Three kids under 11 to keep me busy. An important note: Don't try backflips on a trampoline if you can't do them well. Hurt my neck and it bothered me all day on the race.

Dinner in Oakland- Ate dinner at Manzanita, which another friend described as Food Not Bombs food for $20. I was into it. Quinoa, miso soup, delicious salad. Perfect pre-race.

Race day
Up at 445. Made a french press. Drank coffee on the way. Start was mad crowded, parking, blah blah blah. Set up my 'transition' with my bike stuff, which is always exciting. By the time I see it again, I'll be so fucking stoked to finally ride. Putting on my wetsuit: way less exciting. If I'm lighter than I've ever been (er, well, close) why is it tighter than it's ever been? Haven't worn it since this race in 2008.

Swim
In the water, ready to go, pre-whistle. A first. I started to get nervous which made me think tardiness is a response mechanism to nervousness.

Stay chill!

Harder than it sounds. Having breathing issues. Wetsuit felt SO TIGHT. Gnarly. Took 20 minutes for me to calm down. And for my dumb goggles to quit being foggy. This has never happened to me! The swim is two laps in a river with very little current. By the start of the second loop I was feeling a rhythm. Swimming is difficult to tell pace; I often didnt know if I was passing or being passed or if I was swimming straight. It's also very shallow, which means you can stand if you have to (which is why Jeff and Megan call this Styrofoam-man!).
Still I paced, slowly. Got out in 1hr22min, 10 min slower than past race. I'm cool with it. Arms are tired. Wonder why?

Bike
I passed my pink backpack and wetsuit over the fence to Lacy with a big smile on my face. Cycling. Hell yes. I go hard straight away. Stomach is weird so I don't eat for about an hour. That's 2.5hrs now on a small banana. It's fine. Passing hella people and being super polite and stoked, but others aren't being so! (No Meat Athlete just talked about ettiquete for these races).
The course is rolling hills and it's overcast and chilly for the first 50 miles. I love it. I'm feeling strong through the first 70 then I'm less stoked. I notice because I'm getting angry at dudes with Zips and discs passing me on the flats. 'I'm being passed, wtf?' Reconsidering the offer to borrow Zips from a friend. I hesitated cause they are tubulars, but that 8-10% speed improvement sure sounds nice about now.
I stop and pee. Eating more. Feeling good. My average speed is dropping below my goal of 21 MPH. Usually my strength is in the last half of the bike, but lack of recent long rides is showing.
Finish at 5hr30-something minutes. About 10 minutes faster than last time; making up the time lost in swimming..

Transition 2
Yeah, running. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I think cycling is the perfect warm-up for running. I feel great. It's getting warm so I slap on sunblock, drink some cold water, dump some on my head and run out with the goal of a 4-hour marathon.

RUN
Boom. Three out-and-backs loops with rolling hills, turns, spectators and aid every mile. I head out strong, I think, trying to figure out my pace. I've no watch and there are no time clocks. I ask some dude with a fancy watch his pace. 9min07sec miles. Perfect. He then says that's too fast for him and backs off. Then someone says, 'Yo Matt!' A dude who lives in Pasadena and has ridden Feel My Legs, I'm A Racer is on his first iron-distance. He's killing it. We chat awhile and then my pace is a bit faster so I split off. Straight away I'm chatting with a dude from Bogota who speaks no English. We talk about running, cities and Ciclovia. He says, 'this is hard' and then runs away from me. I see Lacy at the end of my eventful first lap. Stoked. Run through the transition/finish and see the clock and do the math. My goal is three 80-min loops to equal 4 hours. I did 76 minutes. Boom. Drink some tea (thanks girl!), head out for lap two.

Lap 2
This is the toughest part, mentally. My brain insists on tricking me to slow down. Stop to pee! Put on sunblock! Walk this hill to conserve energy. I do the first two, but not the last. I endure. Passing folks which feels odd and exciting. I'm using the Hydra pouch cup system; no paper cups. It holds 6 ounces of liquid that fills in one second. I'm eating only pretzels and clif blocks. I must have eaten $20 worth. Falling into that tunnel of only feeling my legs moving. I barely comprehend the people around me. Occasionally someone yells, 'Go Swarm!' and it feels like they've given me everything they have. A simple cheer feels like a lifetime of support. I see Lacy at the end of lap two and she runs along with me. I see people smile and that makes me smile. Ask for the rest of the tea and some ibuprofen. She quotes me later as saying, 'This is getting hard.' I do the math on the clock and it was an 84-minute lap. Shit. I blame peeing and sunblock, but really my feet are burning and quads aren't stoked.

Lap 3
Almost done. Well, 8 miles til done. My mantra is 'run to the next aid'. Head down. Trying to keep pace, have no idea. I see people heading back on their last lap running a pace that seems impossible. I get to one of the two bigger hills and push. Everyone I see is walking, but I refuse to. I crave the change in muscle use. At the turn around I think, 'Just run back. That's all you have to do.' My feet are destroyed. I stop to drink two cupfulls and have to hold on to the pop-tent cause the motion of putting my head back makes me a little dizzy. A volunteer says she thinks I should sit. 'No way I'm sitting down, sorry!'

On a downhill about 2 miles from the finish someone catches me. Straightaway she says, 'I'm on the relay, don't worry.' I try and hold her pace. We chat. She's super supportive. I can barely talk. I think we're doing 9 minute miles but it feels like a sprint. We both jog through the last aid and I refuse to give up her pace. We start to catch someone I've seen ahead of me at every turn around. I push. Drop her. Catch him.
The last half mile is painful. Did I go too hard too soon?
Cross the finish with the same Black Power salute I did in 2008, but this time the clock is one hour earlier.
Results.

Post-race
Try to keep moving. Head cloudy. Feet burning. STARVED. Lacy finds me wandering in circles. I sit. Stretch. Snack. Get bike. Get food! Yay veggie burger with pasta salad on it. Whatevs. Tons a fruit. See the Pasadena dude and someone I randomly met at a wedding last year. Congratulations all around.
We hear about a local, sustainable, vegan restaurant in the tiny town of Graton and head there. Ends up they are promoters of the first two, but haters of the latter. 'We put cheese in the polenta because it tastes better.' I knew it was too good to be true. Damn 'local' restaurants and their total disregard for animals. We eat at the Mexican place next store that gets it. Yum. See some folks who were at the race and my hobble gives away that I was there.

So. Yeah. Was high on this for a few days. No photos, unfortunately. There are the official ones, but I couldn't figure out how to pull them.

Soon, the fall: More mountain bike racing and then Furnace Creek 508, again. See you out there. Keep at it, whatever it is you do. Here are some applicable Buddhist quotes I stole from famous artist, Lacy J. Davis.

Don't depend on how the rest of the world is.
In this life, concentrate on achieving what is most meaningful.
Stay focused.
Don't expect any applause.

pre Vineman 2010

I love to swim.
I love to bike.
I love to run.
I love to do things for a really long time.

This is the answer I give when folks ask me about triathlon. I am most definitely not a triathlete and I'm going to shy away from trying to convince anyone that triathlon is 'cool'. It's like arguing that Korn is a seminal punk band or that Del Taco really has Mexican food down. I'm glad people enjoy these things, but they will always just be what they are. And that's fine! I've been known to deviate outside of the norm (norm, as always, is relative here. It's normal in my world to not know anyone with health insurance or who eats at McDonalds. Or anyone who isn't pro-choice or who hasn't hung out with their favorite band). Like listening to Downset, paying for a mattress and working a job where I have to wear a button-up shirt (occasionally).
That's the long intro to say that tomorrow is the Vineman, full-iron (fuck you Ironman-TM for trademarking both 'ironman' and 'iron-distance' you money-hungry fuckers) triathlon.

2.4 mile swim
112 mile bike
26.2 mile run

I've watched two bloggers I follow each race their first this year- Punk Rock Tri Guy and Vegan Heart Doc. Their rightful sense of accomplishment is very motivating.

Yay! But I'm nervous. More than usual. I've swam 5 times this year. Maybe 2.4 miles total, but probably less! Since reading Total Immersion I'm confident in my theory that swimming is way, way more skill than fitness, but still! I haven't practiced that skill very much in the last two years (the last triathlon I did was Vineman 2008, which is also the last time I've worn my wetsuit).

Whoa. Deep breath. I won't drown. I just don't want it to slow my bike down! Running that half marathon July 4th was awesome, but I haven't run much since. Oops.

You know what is fucking awesome though? Vineman recycles everything-including a special process for energy bar wrappers-and composts fruit scraps. The finish is powered by solar panels. New this year- paper cup-free run! They are using Hydra-pouch refillable cups that each runner carries. So fucking awesome. When we rode through the SF marathon on Sunday on our way to Rough Riders there was litter EVERYWHERE. It was disgusting. So this rules.


Well, goal time....I'd love to beat 12hrs20min from last time, but I'm not sure how the swim will pan out and slow the rest of my day. Also haven't ridden my road bike much at all and I just put my aerobars on and haven't ridden them yet. Is a four-hour marathon possible? I'd love it, but we'll have to see. Holding back on the bike is near impossible for me.

Thanks to everyone who helped get me here and make this happen!

peak.com interview part one

This is part one of an interview I did with peak.com. If you like it and think others may be stoked please share it with the tool on the upper right.


Age?
Recently 30.


Occupation?
I'm trained as a Registered Dietitian, in other words a professional nutritionist. Currently I work under a Food-stamp grant doing nutrition education in low-income areas of Los Angeles. Am also an adjunct instructor with the LA district community colleges.


How long have you been doing ultras?
Since Fall of 2004. More or less.


What was your first one?
My first ultra was the Mt. Tam double century in 2004. I had no idea what I was getting into. I did it on 3 hours sleep, finished in 16 hours, then had to drive an hour back to a friend's house. It was beautiful.



What got you into ultras?
Bike touring. I spent the majority of teenage years on a BMX bike riding the most difficult trails in the country. Many of my friends went on to be pro. I went to college. Not sure if I made the right decision. Filled the gap with mountain biking and then bought a $50 panasonic road bike my senior year. Rode it 150 miles through Pennsylvania to my mom's house within a month. First lesson: cut-off shorts and no underwear is not the most comfortable choice for your crotch. The following Spring I rode cross-country from California to Pennsylvania alone (mostly). I was too cheap to pay for camping (hotels weren't an option) so I found my own places behind trees or rocks or in public parks. Spent $5/day over two months. Would of been faster but I got hit by a car head-on outside of Flagstaff, Arizona in a surprise snow storm. Ten days off the bike mending a broken wrist and a broken bike. Insurance of the driver bought me my first 'real' bike: a Bianchi Axis. The next summer a friend and I rode from Los Angeles to Belize City, Belize. We went through Oaxaca, Chiapas, Guatemala, it was a phenomenal experience. With some shorter trips, including Alaska and the Great Divide, I've got about 10,000 bike touring miles logged.



Your hardest?
Solo Furnace Creek 508! No doubt. The desert does something to you mentally. If you don't love it and show it respect, it will chew you up. I struggled the second day quite a bit and would not of finished if it was not for my great crew. After 37 hours I was glad to be done and did enjoy it, even with the misery. That's partly why I am out there. I love the highs and lows.


Longest?
Paris-Brest-Paris in 2007 was definitely the longest. Does that count as an ultra? I wasn't competing, I just thought it would be a fun way to experience France. It's part Critical Mass, part bike tour, part cultural submersion. I went with the night start and rode with various groups over the next 26 hours. In Carhaix I found a cot in a gym to sleep on. 'When do you want us to wake you up?' In 8 hours, I replied to their confusion. I figured it would be more fun and easier if I slept a full night. Did the same the next night. Finished in 77 hours, if I remember correctly. Two weeks previous I had done my first iron-distance triathlon on a course in Norway they call the world's hardest, the Norseman. I was nervous because it was especially cold. They had to move the swim away from the glacier run-off in the fjord. You actually had to get out of the water half-way through so they could check you for hypothermia. The bike was 126 miles and the marathon ends up a mountain. I finished near the back and the organizers were always tremendously supportive. They let us sleep in the gym (is there a theme here?) in the days leading up to the race and cook in the kitchen of a school to save money.




Recommendations for new athletes?
It is difficult for me to answer this because I struggle to call myself an athlete. I'd say keep it fun! Don't take yourself too seriously. I like to do athletic events because they are an adventure and the process adds to my life experience. When I lose sight of this it becomes like a job and significantly less fun. To me swimming in a fjord in Norway, riding my bike through traffic in LA, mountain biking fantastic technical single track or running up a mountain near my house are all worthy experiences in their own right regardless of the end goal. Each give me that jolt of excitement that I don't think enough of us get in our daily lives.


Food and hydration during events?
Even though my expertise is in nutrition, I still have to work very hard to get my food and hydration sorted out. The more I've trained and at times when I am most fit I am able to eat less while riding without compromising my performance. It has taken me years of paying close attention to my body to know how far I can push and when I need to eat and drink. I try to average about 200 calories an hour and focus, when possible, on eating fruits and whole foods. On doubles and really tough centuries I do use gels and the liquid foods with definite success.




What's your training like?
Oh how my training varies. I am definitely on the low-end of hours and miles compared to others. Especially running. It is a struggle for me to run more than twice a week, which is something I need to change if I want to get my marathon time under four hours. I do a lot of core work, including pilates. I also live in Los Angeles without a car, so riding to the grocery store and carrying 20 pounds of groceries home on my fixed gear definitely helps.



Favorite event?
So hard to say! My first mountain bike race ever was this year, the Shenandoah 100. It was freakin awesome. A party the whole time, with a 100 miles of amazing terrain and great single-track in the middle. I raced rigid single-speed and came in just under 11 hours. A great way to spend the day. I also did Vineman, the 'people's iron-man', this year in Sonoma Country. Very well supported, lots of veg food and an emphasis on minimal impact: they washed and reused water bottles and even composted fruit scraps.



Why ultras?
I like the commitment. I don't want to spend more time traveling to an event than I do participating in it! That space in time after the initial adrenalin wears out is where you learn the most about yourself and the world. I've experienced clarity like no other on really long bike events. This is cliche, but it takes you away from mundane, normal life with the hassles of bills to be paid, reports to be filed, calls to answer, etc. In a way it is very primal and aligns us with what our ancestors were forced to do to make it through life. I think we all need to remember this. I do my best to promote ultra events so others can get out of the work-buy stuff-watch tv-sleep-repeat routine and experience what we are capable of experiencing, for good and for bad.


Long term goals in the sport?
Tough one. I take it year by year. I like this mountain biking thing so I want to do a 24-hour race next year. The courses seem so boring though. Maybe race the Great Divide? I am not sure. I hope no one who reads this holds me to that!

Vineman photos

Finally back in LA and able to get some photos up. Thanks Jenny!

I just figured out how to read the ranked splits (your time for each: swim-2.4 miles, bike-112 miles, run-26.2 miles) on the results page. My bike was 28th out of 366, in the top 7.5%! I am totally amazed by that. And for anyone else that geeks out over numbers, here they are: swim, 173/379, 45% and run, 112/310, 36%. My overall was 56/310, 18%. Wtf?

I am posting this because I want others who are thinking about similar events to realize that the 'I am in over my head' feeling is totally normal. I was convinced that I was last in the swim. I was okay with that, but seriously thought I had been passed by everyone. Ends up I was in the middle somewhere.

Brian's wife Jenny wanted a photo at the finish the day before.
That made me nervous.

Since it is an olympic year I thought I'd give props to
Tommie Smith and John Carlos
with a black power salute

This was the best feeling ever.

So whatever is in the back of your mind: do it. Sign up. Make training fun and not a job. Make a plan, but be flexible. Those around you will support you and even thank you for being positive and going beyond your comfort zone. Cause really this is what life is about. Riding a bike to work, being vegetarian, doing an iron-distance triathlon; all are about getting out of your comfort zone and doing what common-people will tell you is unreasonable or impossible. Do it.

Vineman more

Triathlons are an odd thing. I've always held them at a distance because of the type of people who do them and my desire to not be associated with it. But I am getting over it. This was super fun. One of the funnest days I have ever had. I'm a bit rushed right now cause I am leaving on a camping trip down the coast back to LA, but here's the story. Hope to get photos up soon. Enjoy.


Swim
Stupid wetsuit wouldn't zipper. I am swimming up to the start as the gun goes off, about two minutes ahead of where I was at Auburn, but still late. D'oh.

I chill. Long strokes, easy pace, stay in a group. I am looking around, enjoying the beauty. Making note of points on the out-and-back so I know where I am when I return.

At the turn around I can't believe how fast I am and how good I feel. 'This is going way better than any other swim.' I am approaching the swim exit and strangely I don't see anyone exiting. Is it around a corner? Who are those people swimming up the other way again? Oh, it's two laps. I'm not that fast. I'm only half-way. I should wear a watch. About 35 minutes later I am really getting out of the water.

T1
What do you think of when someone says 'wetsuit stripper'? It's not what you kind of wish it would be it's having a team of people pull off your wetsuit. It is awesome. I was a bit overtaken by how quickly I went from being fully covered to wearing only some tiny, dripping, bike shorts.

Nine minutes later I was riding away.

Bike
So I put aerobars on. Rode about 30 miles with them the week leading up the race. They are sweet. You tuck down, slide up in your seat and then pedaling as hard as you can comes natural. This course has about 4000ft elevation gain in 112 miles and a lot of it is rolling hills. Which are tricky. When you are averaging 21 or 22 MPH you don't want to slow down. When climbing a mountain you have no choice. When's it only 100 feet or so you just stand up and mash in your big ring in order to not lose momentum. Or at least that is what I do. Passed a lot of people. Said 'hello' or 'good morning' each time. Less than one in four respond. I look at all the graperies that turn fruit into alcohol. Every 25 miles someone hands me a nice cold sports drink. It gets hot. Some friends from Organic Athlete wrote our names at the top of the biggest climb. And also wrote 'Go Vegan' which confused me in my apoxic state.

T2
Since I don't run train very well or really do bricks besides riding to my runs (see my experience at Norseman) I was a wee bit nervous entering T2. But I switched shoes, ate a banana, put on my hat and attempted to keep up my mental momentum from the bike.

Run

Determination. How do I control that? I was so determined to keep my run strong and stay on pace (as much as you can with no watch and the only clock being at the finish) that I was shocked. I walked the aid stations and the big hills and then just kept on it. The course is 3 out-and-backs and which sounded like it would be tedious, but it was really good. I could mentally break it down. Every time you came through the finish area to start a new lap the crowd lining the route cheered you on. It was really great. I wish they could be there every day. 'Yeah Matt, you are only 10 minutes late to work, good job!', 'Way to get that paper work filled out!'.

I did have a real emotional low on the start of the second lap. Don't know where it came from, but I could barely talk. When I saw Brian (he DNF'd on the run with a knee injury) I was totally spaced. Asked him to talk to me 'about anything'. I had some lows like this at Paris-Brest-Paris, but this was the worst one I've ever had.

I started the third lap at 10hr 30min race time. If I could hold on to 10-min miles I could do sub-12. Alas I could not! The hills got me. And I only ate an orange on the last lap to focus on my hydration as the weather cooled and some more shade covered the course.

Post
Legs feel strange. Have to keep walking. Then stretch. Then lay on my back and put my legs up: amazing feeling. Overwhelmingly joyous as normal blood flow returns to them. Hang out. Eat a veggie burger and a ridiculous amount of fruit.
From here we went to the Organic Athlete house in Sebastopol and ate a gigantic salad and some banana ice cream. I laid on the kitchen floor a bunch of the time and we all told stories about ridiculous things we like to do.

Splits: Swim 01:16:36.0 T1 00:09:31.6 Bike 05:41:57.7 T2 00:05:40.1 Run 05:08:09.3 Finish 12:21:54.6

Thanks: Brian, Jenny for being awesome support, Bradley and Justin from OA, my distant family up here that treats me like close family, vineman for having tons of vegan food, recycling and even composting, Michel Martinez for getting me stoked on doing this.

Vineman

Yesterday was Vineman and it was a great time. I plan to write up a longer story, but here is the short:

12 hour 21 minute total time

2.4 mile swim-1hr 16min
transition 1- 9 min (hanging out is pretty cool)
112 mile bike- 5hr 41 min (I rode a 5hr century!)
transition 2- 4 min
26.2 mile run- 5hr 11min

It was a fun, beautiful course and really well supported. And I don't know where I pulled that marathon out of! It was hilly and very hot, but still one of the best marathons I have run (not necessarily by time, but how I felt).
Am sore, but not miserable.

Davis double century, Auburn half iron continued

At exactly 546am we rolled up to the start (ride to the ride!). No one in sight. Not one of the 700 people signed up for the ride that starts 'between 515 and 545am'. So we pedal off! Within an hour it was warm. Ride fast before it's too hot or conserve energy? Brian double flats on a pothole in a paceline. A first.

The Davis Double is super well supported with 10 checkpoints in 202 miles, most filled with plenty of fruits and other foods (no clif bars unfortunately). It is inevitable on a 200-mile ride that you will deplete your fluid and energy stores, but we put serious effort into minimizing that (read: we ate and drank a whole lot). There is only about 8,000 feet of elevation gain total, but most of it comes in four climbs. Four climbs in the middle of the day. Four climbs all when the temperature is over 100 degrees. We take our time.

The secret watermelon and vegan burrito stop on the LA to SF drive

When we finish it is still daylight, but unlike Los Angeles the temperature doesn't drop significantly. We eat the free post-ride food, try to find a tool for Brian's bottom bracket and start mentally preparing for Sunday. Back at Janie's house we eat again, load the car and then set off for the 45 minute drive to a relative's place near Auburn.

One of the many (okay, five or so) fixed gears at the double

It's after 11pm when we say goodnight and agree to set our alarms for 445am. The heat changes the fatigue you feel. It's more of a whole body emptiness that you just don't experience from regular fatigue. And you just can't drink enough to replace what you lose. It's a losing battle. I lay down on top of the bed and am asleep before I even think about getting under the covers.

When I awake in the dark I don't feel miserable. Similar to being hungover (it's been awhile so I can't say for sure) in that you are slightly confused and feel like you over it did the night before. Brian looks somewhat normal.

We arrive at 'T2', which is also the finish. We set up our running stuff, load our swim stuff into backpacks, set up our bikes and ride to 'T1'. Six miles, mostly downhill. Ouch. Legs are unhappy. I'm still a little dazed, but the sun is up, people are about and excited. We check-in, set up our bikes in 'T1' and start to dress for the swim. Note to Jan Ulrich-types who like to gain weight in the off-season: If your wetsuit is tight at 'race weight', you are going to be unhappy at ten pounds over. Note to slackers: It's embarrassing to be running down the boat launch as the race is starting.

I have no shame in admitting that I was thinking about quitting before I reached the first buoy. I was struggling to breathe, my body was aching and I was cramping. Why is this so bad? Just kept swimming. Was focusing on my fish-like swimming and was getting nauseous. Can fish vomit in their mouth?

Back at my bike taking off my wetsuit was so glorious I decided to sit down and revel in the wetsuit-free glory. Then I tried to ride my bike up some hills and my legs hated me possibly more than my stomach. It wasn't that miserable feeling you get on super long or hot rides where you just want it to end. It was different. More of a disconnected feeling where your shortcomings seem somehow to be normal. The odd thing was that I didn't care that much. Did I accept it on some level or was I too phased to care? I ate a banana. Drank some electrolyte stuff. And some water. And got passed and passed and passed. Aren't I suppose to be the one doing the passing on this race? No top fifteen percent bike split this year! Hills are hard when you are tired.

I told myself I wasn't even going to start the run. Why bother? But when I saw my shoes I thought, 'I already paid and my shoes are already here...' and went out. Wow. Stomach is super unhappy. What's that weird feeling? Oh yeah, having to pee. Sort of. I think the thick liquid that came out was urine (only a slight exaggeration). At the first aid station I sit in the shade and stare off into space. My stomach is killing me. I add up my calorie consumption for the day: about 800 in five hours of activity. Uh oh. A very fit looking female volunteer probably 1.5x my age, or more, who could easily beat me in any race, says, 'Looks like you didn't do enough hot weather training'. I told her I did plenty the day before. 'Look. See the salt stains on my spandex?' The sun felt like it was melting my skin. Other people looked normal. Are they not human?

The run is two loops from the T2/Finish area. When I finished loop one Brian was there to cheer me on. He had finished already. I stepped off the course, laid down in the shade and didn't get back up. No desire to run. The ground was spinning when I closed my eyes. Am I still edge? Brian brought me some cytomax and water and I put it down. And then some more. And then some more. It's three days later and eating/drinking is only starting to be normal. Wow.

We didn't drive back that night. Even after ten hours of sleep we were both blasted. Unbelievable what the heat can do to you. What an adventure. Looking forward to Vineman in August. Nothing crazy beforehand.

Davis double, Auburn half-iron

The short:
Sat: Davis double century, 202 miles, in 14 hours and 20 min. Over 100 degrees most of day.
Sun: Auburn half-iron triathlon (swim 1.2 miles, bike 56, run 13.1), DNF after 6 miles of run d/t near heat exhaustion, nausea, dehydration.

The long:
I now fully understand what it is like to be dehydrated. Am also now familiar with heat exhaustion, nausea and intense cramping. This is good. Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go? My approach to whatever you call the things I do (adventure? fun? extreme? athletic?) has been simple. If it's there and has a draw, do it. A little naivety is healthy. Curiosity is a sign of intelligence. You won't know until you try. Et Cetera.
I did the Auburn 'World's Toughest Half Iron' in 2006 (second triathlon ever) and in 2007 (third triathlon) . Both years I had a blast and actually placed in my age-group. This year the Davis Double Century happened to be the day before. Why not? Bike touring is all about waking up after a hard day of riding and then riding again. And on PBP I rode 325 miles in one day, slept 7 hours, then rode another 200 plus without much problem. And it's not like I'd drive all the way up there just to do the double, so why not save gas and do both at once. I talked to Brian 'Emperor Moth' Davidson and he didn't flinch (note to potential bad-asses: If you want to look badass for some crazy thing you are doing don't invite the strongest athlete you know to come along).

What we did not calculate was the heat. Over 100 degrees both days. 109 at one point on the double on Saturday. That's hot. About how hot it was on the drive up (and back) in the car with no AC. That probably did not help our preparation (but runs up quite a few punk points). But we did all we could and Davis is a great bicycle city to do it in. We park the car at our friend's house. Ride half mile to bike shop. Closed. Ride around corner to other bike shop. Score. Ride half mile to ride check-in. Ride half mile to a Co-op. For real. Got to love that shit. We ate a nice meal (you can make fun of raw-foodists all you want till they make you the most kick-ass salad you've ever had). Asleep by 10-ish for the 5am wake-up call (from Nextel).

(to be continued manana)

New photos up

After an hour swim workout last night I rushed home to avoid the rain and had some free time. Finally got some photos from the summer organized. I am not sure what the netiquette is for this, but I back-dated the posts so the photos appear near the original stories.

Click on this photo for Norseman and Eidfjord photos

Here for PBP photos

Norseman and Eidfjord photos

The view from the shed we slept in our first night in Eidfjord

Max is AdventureSnore.
The odd places you have slept
in say a lot about the life you lead

Max in Eidfjord

tunnel on 125-mile bike course

Can you believe this part of a triathlon course?

Night before with support crew: Max (California),
Norunn (Norway), myself, Aidan (England)

Pre-swim at 330am. The ship takes racers out
into the fjord. You jump off to start the race.

Stoked to be on the bike.

More photos and stories in the August archive.

Norseman Photos

Just found the official photos from Norseman! I can never manage to find the photos of me in races, but with only 200 people it was a little easier. Also, here are Max's photos.

The ship we took out to the fjord to start the swim.

I guess they didn't get my cannonball.

This is after you exited the water and they checked you for hypothermia.

I am not that stoked on getting back in, obviously.

I could barely walk to my bike.

Max handing off a jacket at the top of the first climb.
If you look close you can see the glaciers in the background.

Thanking Max for giving me the warmer jacket.

Thoughts on Norway and Norseman

After two weeks in Norway, I have to say it was a fantastic country to visit.  The people are rather reserved, Max and I initially called it indiferent, but after some interaction are very friendly.  The country is beautiful, both rural and urban.  After being in Dublin and London, I have more respect for what Oslo has to offer.  Good times.


As far as the race, I am not ashamed to admit that I was in over my head.  Good lesson to learn now and not on the summit of some 20,000 foot peak.  Great experience and a great way to progress, mentally and physically. Am considering next year, but not sure if it can happen.  The biggest concern being financial.  Would be nice to get another full-iron race in before then, but not sure the feasibiity of that.  Am currently on the south coast of England, after some time in Ireland and London.  Will try to post some stories and/or photos. 

  

Some Norseman pictures

Aidan`s photos. And since I am an RD and all, I have to add that I did not drink cola the whole way. I ate a lot of bananas and potatoes, but it seems Aidan did not document that. Ha.
It may be weeks before I get the photos off of my camera and online. Hopefully it happens faster than the Great Divide photos, which is approaching a year...

Norseman conversation

To summarize my experience at Norseman, here is the conversation I was having with the sensible part of my brain:

215am Saturday morning, in gymnasium with 50 other people
Matt: Wow, people are up already?
Sensible Matt (SM): Of course they are. Most people went to sleep hours earlier than you and don`t want to be late getting on the ship.

400am on ship as the sun the is coming up on the fjord.
Matt: Wow, it`s cold!
SM: Duh.

455am standing on edge of ship, waiting to leap 12 feet off the edge into the water
Matt: The longer I wait, the less time I`ll be in the frigid water!
SM: Jump in you wimp so that you are actually ready when the race starts!

About half way through the swim you had to climb out over these big rocks, walk past a fire, show the organizers that you are not hypothermic, then climb back in and swim along the coast to the transition area to finish the 2.4 miles.

Approximately 724am after an hour and 18 minutes of swimming
Matt: How do you walk?
SM: Act normal so that they don`t pull you out of the race for being disoriented!

On the first climb, 3500 ft of switchbacks.
Matt: Why am I not passing tons of people?
SM: Maybe because the people in this race are actually well prepared and are not the standard triathletes who have less climbing skills than you. If you did more than 3 triathlons in preparation, maybe you would not be as surprised.
Matt: But, I did the World`s Toughest half-iron and passed dozens of people on the bike and even placed.
SM: But that race is only marginally harder than other half irons. This is way harder and twice the distance in difficult weather. Toughen up!

On the exposed ridge line at mile 105, after the 5th climb, in the cold fog and rain.
Matt: Wow, this is hard.
SM: What did you expect? You are in the mountains of Norway, on the course of the world`s hardest triathlon. Did you expect sunny So Cal weather and tail winds?
Matt: Well, no, but, you know, just saying. I don`t know. I guess, maybe.

Transition 2, after 125 miles of cycling with 10,000 ft of elevation gain:
Matt: Wow it`s not cold! I can feel my feet. Can`t wait to run.
SM: Remember how Nick told you how important bricks were and you did one?
Matt: Yeah, of course, so I did one.
SM: Just wait and see.

After 3 or 4 miles of the marathon
Matt: My feel and ankles are killing me! wtf?
SM: See above conversation, dumbass.

From mile 5 to 15 I was feeling pretty good and able to keep a decent pace. Not as fast as I`d hoped to be going, but not just shuffling. When I reached the bottom of `Zombie hill`, a 3000 ft winding climb up to the checkpoint 4 miles up, my crew informed me that I was at risk of not making the cut-off to enter the mountain.

Matt: I can run up this!
SM: If you do, you risk being in poor mental health at the checkpoint and not being able to continue.
Matt: Let`s listen to Norwegian black metal on Max`s ipod. I`ll kill all the zombies on this hill!

At the mountain checkpoint, about 20 miles into the marathon.
Organizer: You missed the mountain cut-off by 10 minutes.
Matt: Shit!
SM: Shit!
Organizer: Don`t worry though, you would not be able to go to the top anyway. We have not let anyone all the way up for the last couple of hours.

Why did I not push harder if I was close to missing the cut-off? Well, my bike computer stopped working in the rain and I don`t wear a watch. I just had no idea I was close until it was too difficult to make up the time.

Matt: Let`s walk the last 10k.
SM: Hanging out is pretty cool.

So Max, Aidan and myself walked together for the last 10k and finished at the hotel 1000 meters above sea level. I was slightly disoriented and very sore, but not miserable. We had some great conversations about life and about adventure and about what it all means.
My goal time was 15 hours. Factor in the extra miles added to the bike, the headwinds and rain, and my decision to walk the last 10k, and that adds the 3 hours to make my finish time of 18 hours totally fine with me.
Next year?

Norseman whoa.

insane. unbelievable. beautiful adventure. cold water. crazy swim. tough bike, tougher run. headwinds. euphoric. friends. mountains. long day. sore feet. amazing. epic journey. hardest day ever. 18 hour finish at 3000 feet, white t-shirt (I`ll explain this later). pain. stoked. just woke up and have to drop my international crew at the train station. more later. thanks everyone who sent kind words.

pre-Norseman

Norseman full-iron starts in 7 hours.

My favorite part about traveling and about doing events (or adventures!) is putting myself in some unique situation and taking in all the ups and downs of the experiences the new situation produces. This race has been on my mind for over a year; those who know me know that is much longer than I am usually capable of thinking about something. Spending 3 days at race headquarters has given us the opportunity to feel the excitement build. It is very real now. It`s not the first time I`ve said, `this is going to be the hardest thing I`ve ever done.´ But that is not why I am here.

A friend of a friend asked me before I left, `Why something so extreme?´ And I never thought of it that way (seriously- despite the word `xtreme´in the name of the race). How did I answer? That as you approach the difficulty of something like this it`s feasibility becomes real. Suddenly it is a reason to go to Norway and a time to put myself in a very unique situation indeed. The `hard` part of it is harder than anything I`ve done, but not by leaps and bounds. During the lows I have an adequate bank of experiences to draw upon for motivation and during the highs I can experience something like never before. All this in one of the most beautiful environments I`ve ever been in. And with friends who traveled hundreds or thousands of miles to help make it happen.

We`ve already met lots of people, Norwegians are very excited that we came all the way from California to be here. They ask how long I have been a triathlete and how many times I`ve been here to do the race. I tell them that I never considered myself a triathlete and that I slept on couches for two months to save money to come here to do this race. They appreciate that we sleep in the gym and cook all of our meals.

Pre-race concerns are the obvious ones: Did I swim enough? Cycling is my strength, but did I ignore it too much to swim and run? Have my two weeks of traveling before hand make me soft? Will the stiffness in my left knee get better as the day goes on?

Goal 1: Finish the swim. Period. Goal 2: Make it to the mountain checkpoint before the cut-off (if the weather is bad, you cannot finish on top of the mountain and you finish out the run on flat). Last year all but a handful made the cut-off, the year before only the leader finished on the mountain top! It depends on the weather.

Am returning to this post now at 930pm, before I go to sleep. At the pre-race meeting this afternoon they announced that they had to move the swim deeper into the fjord due to some international triathlon governing-body rule about water temperature minimums. Now the bike is 12 miles longer! I don`t mind so much, but man, it`s already going to be a long day. The race starts at 5am local time, 8pm Friday night in California. Think of me before you go to sleep and again when you wake up!

First look at the swim area!

What's this Norway race about?

Today I arrived in Oslo, Norway to begin my five weeks in Europe. But I feel kind of like I've been traveling for five weeks already. After a week on the East Coast I've gotten quite a few questions about the Norseman triathlon I am doing on August 4th. So what's up with this race?
It's an iron-distance triathlon, but this is far more adventure than race. First a boat takes all participants 2.4 miles into a fjord. Everyone jumps off and swims back to the small town of Eidfjord to complete the first segment (equivalent to about 180 pool lengths). Then onto the bike for 112 miles through the mountains of rural Norway. There is no official support so I need a crew to hand me food and water. Max from Swarm!/Team Bonobo is coming out as is Aidan, Morgan's close friend from England who was not able to continue on the PCT due to an injury. Chris Kostman also hooked us up with his cousin, who lives near Hammer, Norway. Amazingly she is coming out and helping as well. After the bike, the marathon run begins. The first 15 or so miles are mostly flat, but the last ten miles take you up Gaustatoppen to a peak nearly 6,000 feet high. More info on the course here. My crew must accompany me for the last leg to the top and I have to wear a pack with warm clothes, cell phone, emergency bag, etc. Amazing. I hope to finish in 15 hours.

I read this on the plane ride here: 'If you are assured completion then the challenge is too easy.' Maybe that sums up my interest in a race like this. It is also a damn good reason to come to Norway (or to travel in general). I am convinced that (almost) anyone could complete this sort of race, if they were set on doing it. I've merely put myself in a position where I have to prove that to myself. The anticipation alone is worth the entry fee. Can't wait to get out there. Hope to update frequently and maybe even post pictures.