This race report is very after-the-fact. But will I care when I look back at this in 5 years, will I care? No.
We raced the Thomas Cook Ironman 70.3 last weekend on Mallorca. I have done maybe 10 smaller triathlons and I felt they required annoyingly complicated check-in procedures: bike checks, helmet checks, setting up your transition area hours before race start, and then waiting forever in your wetsuit. This race had 3500 participants and we must have spent a total of 5 hours waiting in lines, listening to briefings, getting our chips, checking in bikes etc. I will admit that everything was very smooth once the race got going, but I don't think I will do a triathlon that big anytime soon.
The Swim
The dreaded swim... Everyone on our team knew how worried I was about the swim. They all swam in the ocean in the mornings and would come back with stories about the enormous size of the waves and Portuguese man-o-wars. My wetsuit is in the US, but luckily I was able to borrow a suit from our club chairwoman. She is a little shorter than me and, of course, more female than me. However, the wetsuit fit really well. Actually, it fit better than my own overpriced Orca wetsuit.
I would advise runners like myself to warm up. I have done this a few times in triathlons and it really helps avoid that feeling of panic. Well, I warmed up, waited for a half hour in a corral and the start went. I kept thinking, "don't panic, don't panic". I walked in slowly, hyperventilated a little and prepared for oceanic tranquility. 10 seconds later it felt like being inside a school of eels, all nibbling at my heels and stroking my back and hair. And I panicked. I sat up, treading water, waiting for almost everyone to swim past.
In the end, it wasn't so bad. I was able to crawl the majority of it. There were a few swimmers like myself, way off the back, some breaststroking it all the way, almost as fast as I could crawl. My time was 44 minutes; I was worried about making it under the cutoff of 70 minutes. So relax, runners. There is plenty of time to get the swim done.
Coming out of the water felt very, very good. At least I had made it that far. Several clubmates were cheering me along. On the way up to the bikes, I saw someone had dropped their swim cap. They are pretty cool-looking cap with Ironman logos etc. So I grabbed it, which many spectators found very amusing.
The Bike
This is how one should dress: Baggy running shorts and a SpongeBob cycling jersey. I had nothing else along, so that's what I wore. It was a very, very wise choice. Leaving the transition zone, the stern-looking guy, who makes sure you don't clip in until after the red line, pointed at me and screamed "Bob Esponza! Bob Esponza!" I must have gotted cheers from over 200 volunteers, racers, spectators and kids otherwise bored with watching people zip by on their $10,000 tri bikes.
I suddenly fancied myself very cool. Like I was doing a half Ironman but not really caring too much about it.
I am not a particularly strong biker on the flats and I was on a rented road bike without an aero bar. So I was slow. I got passed by tons of people from later start waves. Everyone wore their numbers on the backs, so I could see the name, country and age group of everyone who passed me.
I took it easy and waited for the big climb. Ah, how I love to climb on a bike! Runners, if you are new to triathlons, you will most likely feel slow on the flats but surprisingly fast on the climbs. Being lighter than your typical triathlete is part of it, but even the weight can't explain the phenomenon. There are people from my club who are such strong bikers that I can't even hold their wheels in a pace group. Yet I am able to drop them on the climbs. Ok, so I have done countless hill repeats up Granddad bluff in La Crosse, so climbing is something I have trained, as opposed to tempoing on the flats. Anyway, after feeling like Superman up the hill, I resumed feeling like Bob Esponza for the flat second part of the route.
Runners, please realize that no-draft triathlons are all about cheating! People draft, and no one cares. One French gentleman in his 50's named Yves had absolutely no body hair, or regard for the rules. He rode the entire way less than a foot away from the next rider. Except of course when he heard a motorcycle coming up, in which case he sat up and drank a bottle, making it appear that he had just been passed. Most other people drafted a little here and there. But think about it: If 3500 people are supposed to ride 10 meters away from the next rider, that's a 35K peloton. So that's not realistic. Trains of elites on expensive aero bikes blew by, obvisously having formed little pace groups.
Interestingly, it seemed like the Challenge people during Challenge Copenhagen that the Girl did were way more strict. There, one guy got thrown out of the race for public urination - 2K before the finish of an ironman!
Anyway, runners, please know that a little cheating is expected.
The Run.
Runners, even if you didn't draft, running with triathletes will feel like you're cheating. After feeling like a novice for hours, now it's your time to shine. I was lucky to have really good legs. Sometimes, it takes a few K to warm up, but I felt like I jumped straight into a good pace. The transition zone was half a mile long, though, so walking my bike for minutes may have warmed up my running legs a little; who knows? Oh my gawd, running was fun. I ran the half marathon in 1:22, feeling super smooth the whole way. I stopped to fuel often, as I worried about bonking, but the whole race felt almost easier than a normal half marathon.
Of course, all the faster triathletes were all off the course by the time I started running. But still. Most triathletes are very tired when they get to the run. I passed people continuously, the entire time. Not a single person passed me and only one single person tried to hold on for maybe 10 seconds. So, runner, you will feel superhuman during the run, and it makes the indignity of swimming and biking well worth it.
The Girl had an awesome race, especially considering her 100 miler the week before. My time was 5:33 and hers was 5:53. That amounts to "relative chicking" or "relative wifing" in our lingo. Usually, relative chicking happens when I am less than one minute per mile faster than her, but it doesn't translate well to triathlons. Anyway, I was relatively chicked (and simply chicked, actually, by many, many women). I was even chicked on the run, as one woman ran it in 1:18. Whatever. Like Bob Esponza even cares.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Going Nuts "Watching" the Girl's 100 Mile Race
She should be done within an hour. I'm not saying that running would have been easier, but "watching" all the updates for over 24 hours has been crazy. I couldn't sleep last night, imagining all kinds of misfortune on the very technical trails around "the Hammer".
Scratch that. She is in:
She looks as good as after 20 hours.
I didn't think it was possible to just jump into a 100 miler and finish, so I am more than impressed. First and only woman. Only second woman to ever finish this notoriously difficult race. I am so proud!
I ran my own race today. In beautiful weather, the Firkløvermarathon was run here in Næstved, on our local trails. I was actually hoping for a fast time, loosely aiming for 1:16 to 1:18. The legs felt ok, but the time was 1:22. The course is known to be long, but it still doesn't translate to less than a 1:20. The second-place guy ran a 1:29 and was hoping for a 1:20, so maybe the course was tougher than we thought. There were constant turns and little, so one had to accelerate back up to speed very frequently.
A win is a win, and there were many friends there running and wathcing. Still, the time is disappointing.
Scratch that. She is in:
She looks as good as after 20 hours.
I didn't think it was possible to just jump into a 100 miler and finish, so I am more than impressed. First and only woman. Only second woman to ever finish this notoriously difficult race. I am so proud!
I ran my own race today. In beautiful weather, the Firkløvermarathon was run here in Næstved, on our local trails. I was actually hoping for a fast time, loosely aiming for 1:16 to 1:18. The legs felt ok, but the time was 1:22. The course is known to be long, but it still doesn't translate to less than a 1:20. The second-place guy ran a 1:29 and was hoping for a 1:20, so maybe the course was tougher than we thought. There were constant turns and little, so one had to accelerate back up to speed very frequently.
A win is a win, and there were many friends there running and wathcing. Still, the time is disappointing.
Monday, April 29, 2013
Spring Peak or The Age of Homer Simpson
I always seem to get a little spring peak. Despite my hamstring tear this winter, I seem to have preserved enough base. Bring out the good weather, and suddenly I am feeling fast. Last week, I had one of those effortless runs, where everything clicks, and I know I am about as fast as I have ever been.
This Saturday, I ran Faxeløbet, barely beating Kenneth Kirkeby in a sprint finish up a steep hill. Kenneth is a little faster than me and would certainly beat me 9 out of 10 times in a time trial, but for some reason I have managed to end up slightly ahead of him a few times these last few years. Saturday, he felt faster on the flats, whereas I felt faster on the technical sections and up the last, steep hill.
The Girl is unsure of what she wants to do with her season. She went into the season thinking it would be all about speedwork, working toward a marathon PR. But she seems to excacerbate her mysterious injuries every time she runs long than a 10K on the roads. She did really well at Fyr to Fyr 60K. She was only 6 minutes behind Pia Joan Sørensen, who ran a 100K in 8:36. So she is in good shape, but without a focus.
In two weeks, we are both doing the Mallorca half Ironman. And by doing, I mean "hoping to survive". I don't have my usual wetsuit, so I am borrowing a female suit that's too small for me. The swim is half a mile into the deep, black, windy, shark-infested Mediterranean. Serisouly, I don't know if I can compose myself through something like that.
---------------
So. Do you know how old Homer Simpson is? I didn't until a few months ago, but I assumed he was older than me. He seems to have worked the same dead-end job for years. He is balding and overweight and his best days seem to be behind him. He just seems old, right?
Well, he is 38. When I turned 38 a few months ago, Natti was quick to point out that I was now as old as Homer Simpson. And why wouldn't I be as old as him? My kids are older than the Simpson kids. Moving between continents frantically doesn't stop the clock, apparently. I am sure Homer has more money saved up for retirement. His house is probably worth more than our entire savings, retirement and otherwise.
Sometimes, my gloominess can depress even myself. Like Natti once said, "yeah, dad, but it doesn't mean it was a good movie, because you cry at the end of every movie!". Natti is quietly watching our moving plans for this fall unfold. She is way too cool to come out and say that she wants us nearby, but I could tell that she didn't like it when we were talking about moving to Colorado. She is in such a self-conscious, insecure phase now. Her problems are mostly imaginary, but even the imaginary ones are beyond my control. I try to listen to her and offer my advice, which always go along the lines of either "everyone is insecure, especially pre-teens" or "relax and enjoy the ride. You'll be gone before you know it".
This Saturday, I ran Faxeløbet, barely beating Kenneth Kirkeby in a sprint finish up a steep hill. Kenneth is a little faster than me and would certainly beat me 9 out of 10 times in a time trial, but for some reason I have managed to end up slightly ahead of him a few times these last few years. Saturday, he felt faster on the flats, whereas I felt faster on the technical sections and up the last, steep hill.
The Girl is unsure of what she wants to do with her season. She went into the season thinking it would be all about speedwork, working toward a marathon PR. But she seems to excacerbate her mysterious injuries every time she runs long than a 10K on the roads. She did really well at Fyr to Fyr 60K. She was only 6 minutes behind Pia Joan Sørensen, who ran a 100K in 8:36. So she is in good shape, but without a focus.
In two weeks, we are both doing the Mallorca half Ironman. And by doing, I mean "hoping to survive". I don't have my usual wetsuit, so I am borrowing a female suit that's too small for me. The swim is half a mile into the deep, black, windy, shark-infested Mediterranean. Serisouly, I don't know if I can compose myself through something like that.
---------------
So. Do you know how old Homer Simpson is? I didn't until a few months ago, but I assumed he was older than me. He seems to have worked the same dead-end job for years. He is balding and overweight and his best days seem to be behind him. He just seems old, right?
Well, he is 38. When I turned 38 a few months ago, Natti was quick to point out that I was now as old as Homer Simpson. And why wouldn't I be as old as him? My kids are older than the Simpson kids. Moving between continents frantically doesn't stop the clock, apparently. I am sure Homer has more money saved up for retirement. His house is probably worth more than our entire savings, retirement and otherwise.
Sometimes, my gloominess can depress even myself. Like Natti once said, "yeah, dad, but it doesn't mean it was a good movie, because you cry at the end of every movie!". Natti is quietly watching our moving plans for this fall unfold. She is way too cool to come out and say that she wants us nearby, but I could tell that she didn't like it when we were talking about moving to Colorado. She is in such a self-conscious, insecure phase now. Her problems are mostly imaginary, but even the imaginary ones are beyond my control. I try to listen to her and offer my advice, which always go along the lines of either "everyone is insecure, especially pre-teens" or "relax and enjoy the ride. You'll be gone before you know it".
April 2013 Running Log
1: 14K in woods
3: Great workout on the treadmill. Ran 14 x 1K at pace escalating from 3:50 to 3:15
6: 60K Fyr til Fyr. 5:25. Felt ok, but cramped up at 55K.
7: 3K jog with the Girl. Actually felt quite good.
8: 3K with Natti
11: 14K in woods
13: Two perimeter loops. 3K with Natti.
14: Two perimeter loops. Left achilles hurt.
20: I'm back, baby! Speedy perimeter loops. Felt great.
21: Longish run.
23: Fartleks in the woods.
25: Long "picnic" run with the boys in the jogger. Probably 18K or so.
27: Faxeløbet. 8.2K, one big hill, 30:45. Won.
28: 7K with the boys in the jogger.
30: Long run with the boys, running Christian to soccer.
3: Great workout on the treadmill. Ran 14 x 1K at pace escalating from 3:50 to 3:15
6: 60K Fyr til Fyr. 5:25. Felt ok, but cramped up at 55K.
7: 3K jog with the Girl. Actually felt quite good.
8: 3K with Natti
11: 14K in woods
13: Two perimeter loops. 3K with Natti.
14: Two perimeter loops. Left achilles hurt.
20: I'm back, baby! Speedy perimeter loops. Felt great.
21: Longish run.
23: Fartleks in the woods.
25: Long "picnic" run with the boys in the jogger. Probably 18K or so.
27: Faxeløbet. 8.2K, one big hill, 30:45. Won.
28: 7K with the boys in the jogger.
30: Long run with the boys, running Christian to soccer.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Another month has flown by
The running is getting better. I am still worried about running at all-out speeds, but my training is high quality. Compared to last year, I am a fat, old man, but at least there is no summer of 100 degree weather around the corner, so maybe I can find the summer peak I missed out on last year. Still, it's hard to imagine that I ran a 15:55 5K and won Chippewa just one year ago. I am at least 5 pounds overweight, to the point where Natali skillfully grabs my fat rolls to measure my progress.
This Thursday, we are racing Skærtorsdagsløbet here in Næstved. If it wasn't on our local trails, I wouldn't even consider running it. It has decent money prizes, but I don't even know if I can place in the top 3 in the 10K (which is the least competitive race). The Girl is on a crazy roll. Right now, she is probably setting her PR in a race up in Copenhagen. I imagine she will go sub-40 for the first time in a 10K. And that's coming off a 100K high-tempo week, without any taper. In fact, I don't think she has told her coach about this race.
Life is a uncertain as ever. Too uncertain to describe here, even.
We had a wonderful week skiing in Austria. Easily one of the best weeks of my life. Skiing is such a well-defined mini world, where kids progress so quickly. I was able to ski very challenging runs with Christian and Natali, feeling as a cohesive unit. The Girl's parents came all the way from Wisconsin to spend the week with us, my brother's family and my parents. Truly a unique experience. Both granddads are very able-bodied, strong skiers, so the inter-generational bonding was strong on the mountain. The grandmas took care of Mattias and his 3-year old cousin Ayla.
One day, we got stuck in some of the thickest fog that I have ever seen. There was no wind, so we could hear each other quite well, but visibility was only a few feet. The Girl's dad, Christian, Natali and I stuck ridiculously close together, progressing slowly down the mountain. We went off course into deep snow once, and had to walk back to the official run. It was scary and fun at the same time. A great team building experience.
The Beatles dominated the trip. Natali has gotten very good on the guitar, and she would entertain every night during our after-ski sessions. She is in a Beatles phase right now, just as I was 25 years ago. I remeber liking With The Beatles, Please Please Me and Help. Slowly, I accepted the weirder stuff on Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sergeant Pepper's etc. Natali has gone through the same thing. Everything was a beatles reference, every other sentence being sung to a Beatles tune.
My favorite moment came when Christian was making it past a group of Germans, half jumping, half skating on his tiny skis, on a little flat section. Without thinking, he loudly exclaimed "Hey, Bungalow Bill!" at the top of his lungs. Across language and cultural barriers, a little boy on skis, singing Bungalow Bill will bring out smiles all around.
The trip back was bittersweet. I have grown so close to Natali that the thought of not living with her after this summer is unbearable. She loved skiing and whenever the conversation turned to "where are we going next year?", she grew quiet. It's almost unthinkable that last week will end up being the only one of its kind.
Months ago, I told her the medley on Abbey Road was the best music ever made. She didn't believe me, rolling her eyes and strumming "I Should Have Known Better" on her guitar. Well, she has come around. Coming back from Germany, Abbey Road was the album we had saved for the very last drive into Næstved, both of us singing along to the entire album (except I Want You (She is so Heavy), of course).
This Thursday, we are racing Skærtorsdagsløbet here in Næstved. If it wasn't on our local trails, I wouldn't even consider running it. It has decent money prizes, but I don't even know if I can place in the top 3 in the 10K (which is the least competitive race). The Girl is on a crazy roll. Right now, she is probably setting her PR in a race up in Copenhagen. I imagine she will go sub-40 for the first time in a 10K. And that's coming off a 100K high-tempo week, without any taper. In fact, I don't think she has told her coach about this race.
Life is a uncertain as ever. Too uncertain to describe here, even.
We had a wonderful week skiing in Austria. Easily one of the best weeks of my life. Skiing is such a well-defined mini world, where kids progress so quickly. I was able to ski very challenging runs with Christian and Natali, feeling as a cohesive unit. The Girl's parents came all the way from Wisconsin to spend the week with us, my brother's family and my parents. Truly a unique experience. Both granddads are very able-bodied, strong skiers, so the inter-generational bonding was strong on the mountain. The grandmas took care of Mattias and his 3-year old cousin Ayla.
One day, we got stuck in some of the thickest fog that I have ever seen. There was no wind, so we could hear each other quite well, but visibility was only a few feet. The Girl's dad, Christian, Natali and I stuck ridiculously close together, progressing slowly down the mountain. We went off course into deep snow once, and had to walk back to the official run. It was scary and fun at the same time. A great team building experience.
The Beatles dominated the trip. Natali has gotten very good on the guitar, and she would entertain every night during our after-ski sessions. She is in a Beatles phase right now, just as I was 25 years ago. I remeber liking With The Beatles, Please Please Me and Help. Slowly, I accepted the weirder stuff on Rubber Soul, Revolver, Sergeant Pepper's etc. Natali has gone through the same thing. Everything was a beatles reference, every other sentence being sung to a Beatles tune.
My favorite moment came when Christian was making it past a group of Germans, half jumping, half skating on his tiny skis, on a little flat section. Without thinking, he loudly exclaimed "Hey, Bungalow Bill!" at the top of his lungs. Across language and cultural barriers, a little boy on skis, singing Bungalow Bill will bring out smiles all around.
The trip back was bittersweet. I have grown so close to Natali that the thought of not living with her after this summer is unbearable. She loved skiing and whenever the conversation turned to "where are we going next year?", she grew quiet. It's almost unthinkable that last week will end up being the only one of its kind.
Months ago, I told her the medley on Abbey Road was the best music ever made. She didn't believe me, rolling her eyes and strumming "I Should Have Known Better" on her guitar. Well, she has come around. Coming back from Germany, Abbey Road was the album we had saved for the very last drive into Næstved, both of us singing along to the entire album (except I Want You (She is so Heavy), of course).
February 2013 Running Log
2: treadmill
3: 15K in snow
5: fast treadmill
7: Felt really good on the treadmill. Pulled hamstring again (as in December doing fast intervals uphill. Stupid.
9: 10K in snow. Pulled my hamstring again!
10: Alpe d'Huez
11: 3K jog + stairs
12: Alpe d'Huez PR
13: 3K jog and stairs in the hospital
14: Alpe d'Huez broke on the simulator. Did Col d'Aspin instead. 5K jog
15: 3K jog
16: 21K (11 with the Girl and 4 with Natti)
17: 8K + Col d'Aspin
18: 3K jog
19: 18K moderate pace. Felt good. Hamstring held up well.
21: 17K. 10K in various efforts on the treadmill. Afraid to go faster than 10 mph due to hamstring, but otherwise it feels ok.
22: 3K jog
23: 5K Parkfun, some with Natti, some alone. Felt like I was going around low 17s 5K pace, almost all out, and the hamstring held up.
24: 22K with the Girl. Hard hill repeats around Næstved. Good stuff.
Don't remember the rest
2: treadmill
3: 15K in snow
5: fast treadmill
7: Felt really good on the treadmill. Pulled hamstring again (as in December doing fast intervals uphill. Stupid.
9: 10K in snow. Pulled my hamstring again!
10: Alpe d'Huez
11: 3K jog + stairs
12: Alpe d'Huez PR
13: 3K jog and stairs in the hospital
14: Alpe d'Huez broke on the simulator. Did Col d'Aspin instead. 5K jog
15: 3K jog
16: 21K (11 with the Girl and 4 with Natti)
17: 8K + Col d'Aspin
18: 3K jog
19: 18K moderate pace. Felt good. Hamstring held up well.
21: 17K. 10K in various efforts on the treadmill. Afraid to go faster than 10 mph due to hamstring, but otherwise it feels ok.
22: 3K jog
23: 5K Parkfun, some with Natti, some alone. Felt like I was going around low 17s 5K pace, almost all out, and the hamstring held up.
24: 22K with the Girl. Hard hill repeats around Næstved. Good stuff.
Don't remember the rest
Sunday, February 24, 2013
World's Most Unemployed Hematologist
We are in a crisis. I am in a crisis.
We have no idea what we are doing after this summer. In the entire US, there are, at most, 10 hematology positions open. I have applied and gotten rejected - within minutes. I don't even get past the recruiter.
And what if I got a job? Cancer stresses me out so much that I feel myself aging by the hour. Within a span of minutes, I go from holding back tears for patients to resenting them for piling their problems on to me. Each individual story is terrible, and a new face comes through the door every 15 minutes. The Girl always quotes a mentor who told her "it gets easier once they break your spine", but somehow that hasn't happened yet. The getting easier part, at least.
And where are we moving? I have lived away from my son for 4 years, and now I may end up far away from both him and Natali. We are talking about Colorado, but that's a day's travel away from La Crosse. Where in the world did I go wrong? Natali is going to live with my Ex, starting in September, so this might be the last summer I get to live with her. I have been offered an okay job near La Crosse, but there is nothing there for the Girl to do.
It's so incredibly complicated. The Girl has to find a residency or post-doc, but she isn't sure what she wants to do or what she can get. It is virtually impossible that we are both able to find something good at the same time, in the same area.
And then on top of all this, I get injured. For the first time in 4 years, I get injured. One day, I am the fastest guy in town, running uphill intervals on the treadmill, and the next I am a guy who can barely walk. For over two months now, I have felt that same fiber bundle in my hamstring heal and tear.
It's all a sign of getting older. I am now 38 years old, unemployable and injury-prone. I have rarely been this depressed. Things have been confusing before, but never like this.
We have no idea what we are doing after this summer. In the entire US, there are, at most, 10 hematology positions open. I have applied and gotten rejected - within minutes. I don't even get past the recruiter.
And what if I got a job? Cancer stresses me out so much that I feel myself aging by the hour. Within a span of minutes, I go from holding back tears for patients to resenting them for piling their problems on to me. Each individual story is terrible, and a new face comes through the door every 15 minutes. The Girl always quotes a mentor who told her "it gets easier once they break your spine", but somehow that hasn't happened yet. The getting easier part, at least.
And where are we moving? I have lived away from my son for 4 years, and now I may end up far away from both him and Natali. We are talking about Colorado, but that's a day's travel away from La Crosse. Where in the world did I go wrong? Natali is going to live with my Ex, starting in September, so this might be the last summer I get to live with her. I have been offered an okay job near La Crosse, but there is nothing there for the Girl to do.
It's so incredibly complicated. The Girl has to find a residency or post-doc, but she isn't sure what she wants to do or what she can get. It is virtually impossible that we are both able to find something good at the same time, in the same area.
And then on top of all this, I get injured. For the first time in 4 years, I get injured. One day, I am the fastest guy in town, running uphill intervals on the treadmill, and the next I am a guy who can barely walk. For over two months now, I have felt that same fiber bundle in my hamstring heal and tear.
It's all a sign of getting older. I am now 38 years old, unemployable and injury-prone. I have rarely been this depressed. Things have been confusing before, but never like this.
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