2008 Duathlon World Championships – Rimini, Italy September 28th
My free frequent flyer ticket took me from Dulles airport to Newark for a four hour layover, then to Bologna, Italy after a stopover in Lisbon, Portugal. A million hours later I was in Bologna, but my bike was not, and the airline could not locate it. I filled out all the forms, and they told me it would be delivered to my hotel Friday - the following day.

Duathlon World’s was in Rimini, a beautiful beach town on the East coast of Italy. The Team USA hotel was a picturesque hotel in a great location on the main strip pinned between cafés and (surprise!) pasta/pizza restaurants. I was sharing a room with my teammate, Chuck Harney. I felt like I was back in college in my single bed shoehorned into the tiny room. Plus, we had 2 toilets in the bathroom. One was like a water fountain. :-)

My race was Sunday at 11:30am, and my bike finally arrived Saturday afternoon. Yea, I was sweating it out until delivery. In the meantime, we ran the course, studied the transition area, drank lots of café lattés, and ate tons of pasta.

Race day couldn’t have come sooner. I wanted to get it over with… At the start line, I looked around and could tell it was probably the most competitive field of athletes I have been up against since my collegiate track days. The race started with a 300+ field of fired up 35-50 year old males. Like everyone else, I pushed my way as close to the start line as possible. It was a narrow corral, and I knew there was a sharp left hand turn only 100 yards ahead. Without any warning the gun went off, and the pushing and shoving began as the mob surged ahead. The elbowing continued until past that first turn! People were tripping and falling all around me. It was an incredible rush, and with one hand on some random guy in front of me, I was able to stay on my feet.

The first 10k run was flat, fast, and actually measured incorrectly. The total distance was more than 12k, or almost 1 mile longer than it was supposed to be. It was a 4 loop course with fans cheering the entire length. I was toward the front of the pack with a time of 38:47 going into the bike transition. Then came the bike… as usual, I was holding on for dear life! Even with my $3000.00 ZIPP wheels that my buddy Andy from Bonzai Sports lent me, I got passed by many!

However, many of the competitors that passed me were cheating!!! Drafting is not allowed in age group duathlon and we were all warned before the race that there would be ‘bunching’. It was a crowded six lap course, and groups of cyclists would fly past in a tight pace line! It was blatant cheating, but, to their credit, the course marshals (on motorcycles and scooters) were trying to break things up as best as possible. I saw a few riders get ‘yellow card’ penalties. This meant they had to stop their bikes, unclip from pedals and lift the bike off the ground before continuing. Needless to say, I did not join in the drafting.

26+ miles later (it was supposed to be 40k, or 24 miles) I was back in transition after 1:11:32 on the bike and immediately out with running shoes on and calves\hamstrings cramping. While on the bike, I could feel my right hammy tighten. While dismounting from my bike, I could only hope not to crumple to the ground with full-on hamstring cramps. I only had 5k to go and passed many more during the final run. 50 yards from the finish line, someone from the crowd handed me a small American flag. I carried it through the finish line physically and emotionally exhausted!

With my usual game face of complete exhaustion for the finish, I placed 27 in my age group and 3rd American after 2 hours and 11 minutes of heart pounding excitement! I was pretty happy with that!!

Still to come:
Florence- Statue of David, Lots of cafe latte's, Trespassing into a fancy Rowing Club
Cinque Terra (Five Towns)- Wrong train at midnight, Amazing scenery
Pisa- the whirlwind tour

A 15 mile run across the Golden Gate Bridge is practically a requirement when 14,000 Cisco employees descend on San Francisco for this year’s Global Sales Meeting (GSM). Why? Because the Cisco logo is fashioned after the bridge!

About 40 runners woke early and met in front of the Ferry Building (Clock Tower) at the end of Market St. (across the Embarcadero) at 5:45am. This was the 6th annual GSM run. After taking the ceremonial photograph, we were off. I ran with two employees -- Suzanne and Aaron -- whom I know from previous runs. Suzanne kicked my butt last year in Red Rock Canyon, Las Vegas. Aaron almost qualified for the 2004 Olympic Marathon Trials. Needless to say, our pace was fast!

The route took us along the San Francisco wharf, past the fat stinky sea lions at Pier 39, followed by the fresh smells of the sourdough bread bakery, thru the Presidio, and finally across the Golden Gate Bridge. The timing was perfect because the sun began to rise just as we hit the bridge which provided a picturesque start to the day.

We touched the signpost on the far side of the bridge and turned around, retracing our steps for a total of approximately 15 miles at about a 7 minute mile pace.

There are rumors that next year’s Cisco GSM will be in Barcelona! Maybe we will be running with the bulls!

Aquatic Park, San Francisco!!

I haven’t swam since my car/cycling accident and shoulder surgery almost a year ago, but I would never turn down an open water swim opportunity in Aquatic Park, San Francisco with my work buddies.

Aquatic Park is a small lagoon nestled between Fort Mason and Fishermen's Warf. It’s nearly encircled by two piers with a small opening out to the Bay. The water temperatures range between 53 and 62 degrees. However, it can drop as low as sub-50. Today seemed warmer than past swims, but that didn’t stop Matt, Stu, Adam and me from slipping on our wetsuits and grabbing our goggles before wading into the San Francisco Bay waters. Stu and I had insulated hoods as well.

Other swimmers were in the water with nothing but bathing suits. In the past we have been taunted by 75 year old ladies who happily leap into the Bay with minimal apparel all year long. Yea, we are east coast wimps!

Within the lagoon are buoys that mark an out and back 800’ish meter course. With some ripples on the water and a slight breeze, we swam toward the line of buoys, turned parallel with them and headed toward the far end of the park.

It felt great to be back in the water swimming. Plus, the added buoyancy of the wetsuit combined with the salt water allowed me to effortlessly glide over the water. We swam a little, then stopped and chatted. Happily, I stopped after one lap (14 minutes). The others completed another lap. Back on the small beach we rinsed off, changed into dry clothes and following tradition, we walked one block uphill to the Famous Buena Vista Club for two rounds of awesome Irish Coffees!

The trip to San Fran was now a success!

I roasted my own green coffee beans today using an old air popcorn popper. I have wanted to do this for years. After hearing a story from my sister last week about her roasting coffee beans in a frying pan on the beach in Hawaii with beans she picked right off the tree; I started to Google for info.

I bought a sampler pack from Sweet Maria’s (http://www.sweetmarias.com/). They are the best resource on the Internet for green coffee beans and have an extensive library of home roasting information. I got an old Westbend Air Popper from my parents’ basement and watched a bunch of YouTube videos of others using the exact same process.

They made it look very simple and as it turned out it pretty much was. The sample pack included 8 x .5 lbs of zip locked bags of coffee from all over the world. I arbitrarily picked 1 decaf from Costa Rica and 1 regular from Sumatra and started my roasting. I poured about 1/3 cup of beans into the popper and plugged it in. After a few minutes I heard the 1st crack and then the 2nd crack. From the YouTube videos, these are telltale signs of how cooked the beans were. Then the smoke started coming out of the popper, causing the smoke alarm to go off. I flung open the balcony door, grabbed a towel and started to fan the smoke alarm until it finally stopped. The beans where fine, I think this is just part of the process. After roasting for 7 -8 minutes, I pulled the plug, cooled the beans and let them sit overnight.

This morning I ground my freshly roasted beans and brewed my first cup. It was weak and I was disappointed!!! So, I watched a few more YouTube videos and fired up the Air Popper again. This time I left them in a little longer, had the towel in hand to fan the smoke and will grind and brew them tomorrow morning.

BTW, my condo smells like burned coffee.

I tried the ‘Thrasher Ride’ today.

It’s a 25’ish mile cycling ride which meets every week day and is only a few minutes from my house at the intersection of Bradley Blvd and Goldsboro Road in Bethesda, MD. I have never ridden with them, so it will be an experiment. Although I just read this...

“You want to know suffering? Come do the Thrasher Hill Ride tomorrow with us. If you don't have snot covering your top tube, your jersey, your shorts and you've not puked at least once, then you didn't ride hard enough.”

I changed out of work clothes in my car 1 block away from the ride start and hopped on my bike. I realized I forgot a water bottle and would have no fluids for the ride. O well, it is what it is!
One guy was already there and I went over to talk with him. His name was Randy and said he ‘owned’ the ride. He also said that Monday and Friday or pretty slow and T, W, and Th are fast. It was a Friday so I was looking forward to a slower ride since I have been abusing my body for the past few weeks with lots of running and fast group bike workouts.

A few more cyclists showed and we set off down Bradley toward Potomac. The route was north on Bradley, through Potomac, south on Clara Barton, back to start. Within the first mile our pack had grown to about 12. My new buddy Greg, an amazing cyclist, had also joined and we chatted it up. O’ the pace increased as well. Six miles in we were in a fast rotating pace line averaging 23-25 mph. This was NOT my kind of ‘slower’ ride, but I was having fun.

11.5 miles into the 25 mile ride I was holding on for dear life. Still in the rotating pace line, I knew I would not last much longer. Geez, if Fridays are slow, what is the pace on a T, W and Th??? Well, finally the freight train inched ahead of me. The gap grew to about 6 feet, I lost the advantage of the pace line draft and my quads where screaming at me. I could not hold on and it was all over. The train pulled away leaving me in its dust.

I knew the rest of the route and limped back to my car alone with tail between my legs. I drove directly to the closest McDonalds for a giant Iced Tea, to quench my thirst from not having a water bottle, and the day was done.

Tomorrow (Saturday), is another day with a 55 mile Potomac Peddler Group ride and a 7 mile run afterwards. One of these days I will take a day off.

Duathlon Take Two…

As you may recall from my very first duathlon a few weeks ago just outside Williamsburg, VA, my blog detailed a little weather challenge.. At the start of the race, it was a low 40 degrees and windy with a relentless downpour of hail and rain. I ended up being removed from the race course, during the bike leg, by the race committee motorcycle with low grade hypothermia. I was transported back to the start line and moved to a heated vehicle where I shivered uncontrollably for hours. Needless to say, I did not finish that race.

Yep, I am a glutton for punishment. Here we go again… Sunday April 27th, this time it’s Richmond, VA for the US National Duathlon Short Course Championship (10k run, 40k bike, 5k run). My goal was to place in the top 7 in my age group and qualify for the Duathlon World Championships in Rimini, Italy. I was with my usual race buddies Alex and Chuck from The Bike Rack in Washington, DC. They also experienced the downpour in Williamsburg in the previous race.

O’ of course, it was raining.

My quads still sore from the Boston Marathon 6 days earlier, I toed the start line with 60 or more 40 year and over male competitors. As soon as the gun went off we surged forward. I had to elbow a guy on my left for a moment to maintain my line and avoid being trampled. Jeff Miller (nationally ranked athlete who usually places top five overall) and I took the lead for the first of a 2 loop 10k course. 17 minutes in, my quads were not happy, and as I made the turn for the second loop, I was hurting. I had close to 2 hours ahead of me as a few guys in my age group passed me (ages are marked on our calves).

Completing the 10k in 38 minutes, I hit transition 1 grabbing my brand new Cervelo P2C time trial bike (which had about 60 miles on it). I flew into the 4 loop (10k each) bike course. It was still raining and the course was very technical; starting with 4 ridiculous switchbacks on a muscle screaming uphill. I was hoping my new Cervelo would give me that edge I needed to NOT get passed by a million people, as usually happens in these events. It seemed to be working, unless people were just holding back because of the rain. The course also included a few steep downhills and some 90 and 180 degree turns in parking lots which really didn’t give me much of a chance to get into aero position for long. Throughout the bike leg I saw many riders walking bikes back to the start from either flat tires or accidents due to the slippery conditions.

Of course there is always drama when I race, and bike lap 4 did not disappoint. On one of the uphill switchbacks, my rear tire lost traction on the wet road and slipped out from under me as if someone yanked the carpet out. It happened incredibly fast. I was down on my side. My right knee and elbow took the impact, but most importantly my bike seemed OK. I got up immediately, re-clipped in and with a jolt of adrenaline; I think I finished the final lap faster than any of the previous 3.

With the 5k run still remaining, I exited transition 2 exhausted. But 20 minutes later I dragged my sorry, beaten body across the finish line. I had low expectation of placing in the top 7 which was the only reason I chose to race back to back with the Boston Marathon.

My buddy Chuck also kick butt. We went to the results table to find I had placed 7th. I was shocked!!!! So, here I come DUATHLON WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP RIMINI, ITALY SEPT 28th, 2008.

Chuck qualified also!!!! Nice job buddy. Team Bike Rack represents!

Who is coming with me???

BOSTON MARATHON 2008

I approached the half way point, running side by side with my buddy Steve. We could hear far off in the distance an even louder cheering than the previous 13 miles. Up until this point, the course had been continuously lined on both sides of the road with cheering fans 1-2 people deep. The fans were experienced cheerers of all ages who offered water, oranges, popsicles, candy and an occasional beer. Children and adult hands reached out on both sides of the road for continuous high fives. But what we now heard from a mile away was different. Steve asked if I could hear it; similar to the roaring sound of Niagara Falls. My skin began to tingle in anticipation!

Not exactly sure what to expect, we finally reached the roaring cheer of the women of Wellesley College against the barricades at least 10 people deep. They stretched over the rail waving their traditional “Kiss Me” signs with open arms for at least 100 yards. They were so loud my ears rang as I ran through. I did not stop for a kiss though.

So, this is the Boston Marathon… I knew it would be an epic adventure from the moment I got to the airport gate-- at National airport Sunday morning April 20th--with my sister and nephew. We could easily pick out the runners travelling to Boston. They were the ones wearing running shoes, holding Gatorade bottles or wearing Boston Marathon race clothing from previous year’s races. We were 800 miles from the starting line and one third of the plane was filled with runners and fans. It was going to be an extraordinary race!

Arriving in Boston we checked into the Onyx, a sweet boutique hotel in Boston’s North End, walked to Faneuil Hall for lunch and then to packet pickup at the Hines Convention center. It was a mob scene as 25,000 participants picked up their race bibs, timing chips, shirts and bags of useless freebies that usually go directly into the trash. I bought a running jacket that 24,999 other people also bought and a long sleeve technical running shirt. Of course both were covered with 2008 Boston Marathon embroidery.

The pre-race carbo load pasta dinner in our hotel was simple and I was in bed around 9pm. But as usual before race day, I tossed and turned for hours. I may have gotten 5 hours of sleep before the 5:45am wakeup call. I had set up the coffee machine right next to my bed and rolled over to turn it on.

Race morning, Monday April 21st.
We took a bus 26 miles to the race start in Hopkinton. It was perfect weather, low 50’s and cloudy. Aside from some traffic at the highway exit, it was evident that this race had taken place 111 times before. We were efficiently ushered into a huge grass field where thousands of runners were relaxing. Some brought inexpensive disposable blowup rafts to lie on during the hour or so wait before the 10am start. I was with a group of Montgomery County Road Runners, whom I had been training with during the past months. We did weekend long runs together and Wednesday night track workouts. Many had done Boston before.

I tracked down my good buddies Scott and Steve and we eventually made our way to the starting line corrals for our wave start at 10am which was followed by a second wave at 10:30am. As we walked to the start we were entertained by a cat and mouse game of 100’s of runners going to the bathroom in people’s back yards, followed by dozens of cops chasing them down yelling. “Get Out Of There.” Someone in the crowd joked about whether overweight officers were really going to catch a marathon runner. But it was hilarious to watch everyone scurrying through bushes and woods. As Scott later mentioned, we all forgot about the pre-race jitters while watching the show.

The start was anticlimactic. The gun went off and we walked for about 4 minutes, finally crossed the start line, began to shuffle and then commenced to a slow jog. . The course was packed like nothing I had ever seen, making our first mile split of 7:40 extremely slow, especially since we were going downhill and would be for the next 16 miles. Within 400 meters, Scott in his dilapidated worn out black cotton tee shirt (probably from the 1970’s), went ahead. Steve and I ran side by side for 20 miles only briefly separating at water stops and then regrouping. We held a very comfortable 7:30 pace for those 20 miles.

Much of the course was arrow straight with occasional vantage points to glimpse for miles ahead and behind at the flow of thousands of runners as far as the eye could see. It was an incredible view that only reinforced the greatness of this race. The course was continuously lined with screaming fans, cowbells, bullhorns, signs and refreshments of all sorts. I looked forward to seeing my fan club at around mile 23. My fan club included my little sister and nephew (who flew up with me from home) and my aunt and uncle who live 2 blocks from the race course on Beacon Street in Brookline.

The miles flew by as Steve and I saw some amazing and sometimes entertaining things:

-The female amputee who was effortlessly cruising along at about a 7:45 pace. She had a very low bib number, which meant she probably had a much faster qualifying time than us, and was sponsored by Clif Bar.
-The wheel chair racer struggling backwards inching up Heartbreak Hill as the crowd screamed encouragement.
-One of thousands of signs, this one saying, “Release Your Inner Kenyan!”

I formulated my race strategy as we ran. I felt strong and as planned, picked up the pace at mile 20. My quads where feeling the 16 miles of downhill, but I still had a lot of fuel left in the tank and looked forward to the uphill terrain change of Heartbreak hill .5 miles ahead of me. It was cake and I actually had to ask a runner next to me for confirmation that it was in fact Heartbreak.

Mile 23 was approaching and I nervously looked for my fan club that I am sure had been waiting on the sidelines for awhile getting dizzy looking for me in the sea of runners. To make things easier I told them I hoped to pass them sometime between 12:30pm and 12:45pm and would be running on the right side of the road. I was right on schedule and it was over in the blink of an eye. I ran past never breaking stride, they saw and cheered for me, waving a big sign with my name and I was gone. They miraculously managed to snap a picture and short video as I cruised by.

I had picked up my pace a few miles earlier as Steve dropped back. I threw down a 6:25 pace for the remaining 6 miles of the race and made the final turn onto Boylston Street. I crossed the finish line strong in 3 hours and 10 minutes, had a new Marathon PR and qualified for next year.

I quickly went through the post race process of returning the timing chip tied to my shoe, receiving my finishers medal, picking up my checked bag (which had my cell phone) and tracked down Scott. He ran an amazing 3:07! My sister jumped on the T from Brookline and we met at a coffee shop where I limped in with sore quads from the downhills.

We took the T toward our hotel and were thrown into our final escapade of the day. As we rode on the T another marathon finisher who was probably in his late 60’s was standing next to me. Well, he decided to pass out and crumple toward the ground. I caught him with both hands and held him against the wall of the train. I shook him and spoke to him but got no response. Other passengers, especially my sister screamed that we were having a medical emergency. 15 seconds of unconsciousness later (it seemed like 15 minutes) the man lifted his head and stared at me wondering what was happening.

I sat him down and explained that he had passed out. We got him water as he was breaking out into a cold sweat; most likely from dehydration. At the next stop the trolley operator came back to our car, and confirmed we had things under control. Another guy on the train offered to get the man to his hotel and we got off at the next stop toward the Onyx.

I returned to my hotel room, started the bath, poured in the bath salts and soaked for 45 minutes. Afterwards, I went to the ice machine and filled up two large bags to ice my quads for an hour. I don’t think it helped. I was sore for days and found it particularly challenging to walk down stairs.

Boston lived up to its name of an epic race that anyone with the opportunity must experience, and my day was successful! My biggest fear leading up to the race was actually getting to the start line, not the finish. With so many injuries leading to disappointments over the past few years--causing last minute race cancellations, including an attempt to run Boston last year--I just wanted to get to the start. The rest fell into place.

As always, I try to finish these stories with a note about the next entry. It will detail the US National Duathlon short course championship in Richmond, VA. 6 days from today!

Any time you end up in the back of an ambulance, it’s worthy of a blog entry...

Twenty minutes before the race start, dark clouds rolled in as the skies opened up pelting our field of racers with a downpour of rain and popcorn kernel size hail. It was the start of the Virginia Duathlon (5k run, 23 mile bike, 5k run) this Sunday March 30, 2008 in Surry, Virginia, a ferry boat ride across the James river from Williamsburg. The weather report an hour earlier made no mention of precipitation, low 40 degree temps or moderate/strong winds, but the race started anyway.

The gun went off at 9am for the first 5k leg of the race. My buddy, Alex, led the pack of 200 plus racers with me in a close 2nd/3rd placing going into the bike transition. The rain and hail was relentlessly.

Soaking wet from head to toe and 5 miles into the 23 mile bike leg, I started to feel a little cold. The hail melted the second it hit the soaked pavement and the course was flat and fast. In aero position, I was averaging 22mph. I am weak on the bike and was passed by a few Georgetown and James Madison University race team studs! Ten miles in, I started to feel even colder as my fingers were losing feeling, my eyes were tearing, and it was hard to stay aero.

About 25 minutes later at mile 18, my speed faded to 16 mph. My body was uncontrollably trembling from the cold and wet conditions and all motor skills were gone as I was barely able to shift gears or apply brakes. My exposed skin was reddish purple and I was losing vision. I had to pull to the side of the road. I was in the middle of nowhere with nothing but farmland in site. Still straddling my bike, I could not swing my frozen leg over to dismount. A few racers passed asking if I was ok. I responded with ‘Sure, I am just fine’. However, I knew I could not continue!

A few minutes later, one of the race committee motorcycle escorts approached with two riders on the bike. I flagged them down and they immediately saw I was in trouble. The passenger got off and suggested I get on in his place so they could take me back to the race start. The passenger would radio to the race committee tent for transportation of my bike back to the start/finish.

Frozen stiff, I could barely move. They had to lift me onto the motorcycle. Giving the driver a bear hug as I sat on the motorcycle, I hunkered down behind him, my snot covered face pressed up against his nice black leather jacket. I am sure i left a deposit behind . We soon arrived at the start/finish line, and with race fans watching, they lifted me off the bike and got me to a nice warm vehicle where the heat had been running for a while. I was placed into the driver seat and wrapped in trash bags (for additional warmth, I guess).

After a few minutes, I looked around the vehicle to find another suffering racer in the passenger seat eyes closed. Then looked over my shoulder to see my buddy Alex in the back seat practically passed out! The three of us continued to shiver uncontrollably with probable low grade hypothermia. Twenty minutes later, three ambulances arrived.

Freezing, trembling racers came out of the woodwork toward the ambulances! We piled in and had our vitals read by the EMT’s. I later learned there were 40 DNF’s (Did Not Finish) from a field of 200 racers. Ten people missed turns on the bike course and the rest of the racers who didn’t finish suffered from the cold, wind, rain and hail.

Thirty minutes later the shivering decreased to step out of the ambulance with my tail between my legs. I headed back to the parked car. Alex was already out of his ambulance. We both continued to shiver for about quite some time as we drive home.

Well, next stop is Boston marathon April 21st. Remember last years weather (2007), a downpour of rain and high winds. At least I will know what to expect and have learned how NOT to dress??? Then the week after is Duathlon Short Course Nationals in Richmond. I should have a post for each hopefully without mention of an ambulance.