Athletic Musings

Going Pro

2012-02-09T08:57:00.000-08:00

Article I wrote for 3/GO magazine.

Going Pro
What prompts amateur triathletes to transition to the professional ranks? How does this change their approach to training and racing? Jordan Blanco caught up with a handful of women that have taken the leap and applied for a “USAT professional license” for the 2012 season. She also caught up with two relatively new pros, Meredith Kessler and Caroline Gregory, to hear their advice for new professionals.

In the 2011 season, Sarah Piampiano, Kim Schwabenbauer, Beth Shutt, Jessica Smith and Beth Walsh not only dominated the W30-34 category in Ironman and 70.3 racing, taking age-group wins whenever they toed the line, but they also dominated the overall amateur races. They collected 5 Ironman and 8 Ironman 70.3 amateur titles in total. The season culminated with Jessica Smith winning the overall amateur women’s title at the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Las Vegas and Sarah Piampiano scoring a 4th place in W30-34 and finishing as the top American amateur female at the Ironman World Championships in Hawaii.

There were probably a few North American age-groupers in the W30-34 category that breathed a sigh of relief when after the Ironman World Championships race in Hawaii these top female competitors announced via Twitter and posted on their blogs that in 2012 they would be “Going Pro”.

When asked why they had made the decision to relinquish their amateur status, it is clear that all five athletes are excited by the new risks and challenges that professional racing presents. As Schwabenbauer, explains: “After winning two amateur titles at the Ironman distance, I had a feeling with some more training I may be able to improve my times, and although it might be a tough process to get on the pro podium, I’m willing to put in the time and take the risk.” Smith also saw “going pro” as the next step in a series of challenges she had set for herself: “I’m always setting new goals and looking for a new challenge. When I started in triathlon my goal was to finish an Ironman. Then it was to qualify for Kona. After that I realized maybe I could race as a pro. Now I want to win as a pro.”

Among our group of new pros, Piampiano is perhaps taking the greatest risk, leaving an investment banking job in New York to relocate to Santa Monica, California, to train and race full-time. “Such a small percentage of people in the world are afforded the opportunity and have the ability to be a professional athlete. It is a real honor and privilege. The chance to chase a childhood dream has been put in front of me, and for me to walk away from that I feel would be a mistake.”

The path to becoming a professional triathlete varies greatly among the group. Shutt found solace in swimming and biking while nursing running injuries before finally stringing the three sports together in a triathlon. Coincidentally, Schwabenbauer also came to triathlon from running, at the suggestion of fellow new pro, Shutt. Schwabenbauer recounts: “Beth Shutt, a good friend and fellow Penn State Cross-Country teammate, had shared with me that she had begun doing triathlons the previous year and really enjoyed the three sport disciplines vs. just being a runner. On a work trip to the Big Island, I saw the sign for the Ironman World Championship starting line and I said to my husband, “I’m going to do that race one day!””

At the other end of the spectrum, both Walsh and Piampiano had a bumpier ride to their current professional athlete status. While Walsh may have been athletic in high school, as she puts it: “College was a different story. I was on a strict training regimen of beer, Wendy’s, and half a pack of cigarettes a day. I used to heckle the girls in my dorm for working out and didn’t comprehend why anyone would do that. I slept past noon at least 3 days per week. I may or may not have gained the “Freshman 15”. I never in a million years imagined I would become a pro triathlete at age 31.” Things have clearly changed since her college days as Walsh ran the fastest female amateur marathon of 3 hours and 10 minutes at the Ironman World Championships in 2010.

Piampiano was a two-sport athlete in college, skiing Division 1 and ranking nationally as a cross-country runner. However, as she graduated and transitioned to the working world, her participation in sport fell by the wayside, succumbing to the long hours, unhealthy lifestyle and pressure of her Wall Street career: “My start to triathlon was a bit of a fluke, to say the least. In late 2009 my friend and I bet whether I could beat him in an Olympic distance race. He had been training for months and at the time I was smoking a pack+ of cigarettes a day and drinking like a fish. On race day I showed up on a bike my brother had bought in France 20 years ago for $200 and raced my heart out. I beat my friend, but more importantly I loved every second of the experience. I quit smoking on the spot and the rest is history!”

Racing as a professional affords these new pros much greater flexibility in planning their racing seasons, no longer having to sign up a year in advance and saving money on Ironman and 70.3 race entries since The World Triathlon Corporation (organizing body for M-dot branded Ironman and Ironman 70.3 races) charges a flat rate of $750 to each professional triathlete, regardless the number of races entered. These athletes are also happy that they will no longer be contending with the mass swim start of the amateur race. As Walsh colorfully puts it: “I won’t miss the trepidation that comes before an Ironman mass swim start where you know you are about to get clocked by 2000 of your closest friends.” Even the strongest swimmer of the group, Smith, is happy to no longer battle with thousands of others in the swim: “Goodbye 2,000 people kicking and hitting each other while desperately searching for clear water. Swimming might be one of my strengths, but it is still my least favorite part of the race.”

The new pros have been doing their homework to understand the different racing dynamics they’ll face this coming season. Shutt notes: “I talked with a few current pros to ask what they thought were the main differences of competing as a pro and most all said that the racing is tougher in the sense that you spend much more time on your own. I think it will also be a challenge to learn how to really push yourself even if you aren’t winning or competing for a Kona slot.” Walsh admits to a little fear: “I’m scared of swimming and biking alone in no man’s land for an entire Ironman. I tend to fall into a daze on the bike if I’m not around others who are pushing and motivating me. I may be doing lots of talking to myself and finding that “inner” strength.”

Their concern is not misplaced. Caroline Gregory just completed her first season as a pro triathlete and agreed with this view: “The pro race is so different from the age group race. As a pro you are often completely alone out on the race course. You have to believe in your training, and find the motivation from within.”

November’s Ironman Arizona was Smith’s pro debut. The day before the race, she caught up with Meredith Kessler, a triathlete entering her 3rd season in the professional field. Kessler shared some specific swim tips and friendly strategies: “The first 500 yards will be really fast. I’ll look to get in a pack with Leanda [Cave] and we’ll swim 5-7mins really hard to separate ourselves before dialing it back. Get on our feet at the start.” Smith acknowledges the change in pace and rhythm that the pro race implies: “I think racing as a pro will be challenging because the race will always begin when the gun goes off. At any point I will have to be ready to swim, ride, or run outside of my comfort zone to stay in [the race]... there is a lot more strategy involved at this level and I still have a lot to learn!”

Will our new pros miss anything about amateur racing over professional racing? We asked our pros for their thoughts. Kessler confessed that she missed some of the simplicity of racing as an amateur, but neither she nor Gregory hesitates to state that they love racing as professionals. In fact, they both acknowledge that it has helped to lift their game.

Kessler: “The bar is being raised in the sport on both the professional and amateur levels. Breaking 10 hours in the amateur ranks… is becoming the norm for many, which is just incredible! Especially, because amateurs typically do triathlon as a hobby on top of their already busy lifestyles. On the professional level, breaking 9 hours is now the new “black!” The sport of triathlon is making huge waves. Chrissie Wellington, among others, has raised the level of women's triathlon. The rest of us are working hard to be able to compete truthfully with athletes of her caliber.”

Gregory: “[Racing as a professional] is the opportunity to race amongst the best athletes in our sport, the opportunity to represent sponsors and brands to the rest of the endurance sport community, the opportunity to reach within and see what you’re really made of, and the opportunity to be a positive role model.”

Want to hear more about these women as they train and race in 2012? Check out their websites and follow them on twitter… and most of all, look out for them at the races! Website Twitter handle
Caroline Gregory www.carolinegregory.blogspot.com @ckgregory
Meredith Kessler www.meredithkessler.com @mbkessler
Sarah Piampiano www.sarahpiampiano.com @SarahPiampiano
Kim Schwabenbauer www.fuelyourpassiononline.blogspot.com @fuelyourpassion
Beth Shutt www.thetrialofmilesmilesoftrials.blogspot.com @bethshutt
Jessica Smith www.jesssmithtriathlete.blogspot.com @ jesssmithtri
Beth Walsh www.bethwalshracing.com @IMBethWalsh

Meredith Kessler’s five words of wisdom to keep our new pros centered as they challenge themselves in 2012:
BELIEVE… that you have what it takes to compete with the very best.
LIMITLESS… answers are limitless, find the answers you need in order to prevail.
GUMPTION… you might fall but it’s how you get up that counts and that takes gumption.
SIMPLICITY… keep it simple while figuring out what works best for you.
RESILIENCE… the body is resilient so your head needs to be too!

Keep the Ocean on your Right: The Coast Ride

2012-02-07T09:42:00.000-08:00

There’s no more iconic starting point to an epic adventure than the Golden Gate Bridge. Riding my bike 370 miles from San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge to downtown Santa Barbara in three days counts as epic in my world. This is The Coast Ride.

The Ride was scheduled over a three day weekend, taking advantage of the Martin Luther King holiday to be absent from my job as an investment manager without taking a vacation day. On Saturday morning, my husband Rich, a couple of overnight guests who had traveled from San Diego and I caravanned to the Ride’s start point at the Golden Gate Bridge. Even as an 11 year San Francisco resident that rides across the bridge on a regular basis, seeing the tawny red paint of the bridge and the lush green of the Marin headlands in the background, brought a smile to my face. I was excited for a *destination ride*… three whole days of cycling that would not include a loop, a lollipop or even worse, the dreaded out and back route!

There was plenty of excitement and buzz among the 70 or so cyclists assembled to start the Ride. As professional triathlete, Beth Walsh notes: “I do The Coast Ride because I love incorporating adventure and life experience into [triathlon] training. I love to blur the line between vacation and training and get the best of both worlds.”

After handing off our backpacks containing post-ride clothes and fresh cycling kits to the SAG Monkey (a company that describes itself as a “personal bike concierge”), Rich was anxious to start riding and so we made a quick exit to avoid being at the tail end of a pack of 70+ riders, when the group pushed off moments later.

Knowing I had 370 miles of riding ahead of me in the next three days, my plan was to ride within myself, but hopefully stay with a group of riders in order to conserve as much energy as possible. The first few miles from the bridge are fairly hilly – think Escape from Alcatraz bike course – and not the smoothest of pavement. As I descended towards the landmark San Francisco restaurant, the Cliff House, my wheel hit a pothole and I heard a clattering of metal. My rear light had fallen from my seat post and skidded into the middle of the road. I rested my bike at the side of the road and planned to dash into the roadway to retrieve it… but first I had to wait for the entire peloton of 70+ riders to pass me by. It was mile 3 and I was already off the back. Not the way I wanted to begin this adventure. Luckily for me, a fellow rider and friend, Monica, had an early mechanical that put her towards the back of the group. She saw me at the side of the road and slowed her pace to allow me to catch up. I cannot lie… while I was thankful for the company, I was annoyed that my husband was at the front of the large group and our little group of two was bringing up the rear. The law of numbers pointed to the fact we would only get further behind as the miles wore on.

And then it struck me… I was so focused on my *destination ride* and how quickly I would reach the *destination*, that I was forgetting the journey aspect of my adventure! I needed to reframe things in my mind otherwise it would be a long 20 hours in the saddle to cover those 370 miles over the next three days

The journey on day one of the Ride would take us from San Francisco to the coastal town of Seaside on the edge of California’s Monterey peninsula. 125 miles that would largely hug the Pacific coastline. The best phrase to describe the first 75 miles of day one would be “Surf’s Up!” The cycling route takes us past some of the best surf beaches that Northern California has to offer, including the world renowned big wave break, “Mavericks”, off the coast of Half Moon Bay. The waves were drawing big crowds on this sunny Saturday morning and cars lined both sides of the road as we passed the main beach in Half Moon Bay. Surfers in neoprene with boards wedged underarm were jogging across the road and down the beach. It made me consider the passion and focus that surfers have for their sport, not unlike our little group of cyclists. It was heart-warming to see so many people outdoors, enjoying what they love to do.

The 75 miles to the Davenport lunch stop passed quickly as Monica and I swapped updates on family, work, training and triathlon racing plans as well as enjoying the views. Her positive energy and enthusiasm were infectious, quickly dispelling any frustration I had felt earlier. In her words: “I love the Ride. I love just waking up, eating, riding, eating, sleeping, and doing it all over again without having to pack lunches for kids, get uniforms ready, carpool, housework....it's 3 days of focus allowing myself to be alone and think, or to hang with a group of like minded individuals.”

After lunch, I joined a group of riders which included my husband. The route south from Davenport pulls away from the ocean, through downtown Santa Cruz and smaller neighborhoods until buildings start to thin out and the road flattens. The land wedged between Watsonville to the East and the Pacific Ocean is predominantly farmland. In the summer, you’ll find yourself riding through strawberry fields but in mid-January, it appeared that kale or another dark, leafy vegetable was the crop of choice. At this point in our ride, the wind had picked up and was coming from the southwest, causing a challenging mix of head and crosswinds for those seeking protection in the group. Sitting third wheel behind two Cat 1 guys, I was able to take advantage of the wide shoulder to position myself in echelon to the left of the rider ahead and remain protected from the wind. Those positioned further back in the group were less fortunate. With the boys in front pushing a strong pace and me hanging on for dear life, our group of fifteen splintered into two groups, with just four of us left up front. By the time I realized this we were less than ten miles from our destination and our route had realigned us with the ocean on the right-hand side. We soon exited the main road and jumped onto Monterey Bay Coastal Bike Trail for the last five miles into Seaside. Rolling along the bike path was the perfect cool down to a 6 hour riding day.

The SAG Monkey had arrived with all our gear and the goal now was to check into our hotel room and begin the process of recovery so we could do it all again tomorrow. Typically, my recovery comprises chocolate milk, some nutritious food, compression socks and chilling out on the couch for an hour or two. However, Rich and I were lucky enough to be testing some “Recovery Pump” boots (http://www.recoverypump.com/) so by the time I was finished with my shower, he had hooked up the boots, switched on a sports channel and was officially recovering!

After a good night’s sleep, the alarm sounded at 5am the next morning. Having spent about two hours wearing the recovery boots the evening before, I was excited to find my legs did not have that heavy feeling typical of the morning after a long ride.

The journey on day two would be the longest and hardest day in the saddle: another 125 miles with 8,000ft of climbing. With my legs feeling quite spritely, I was anxious to get going and navigate through the town of Monterey and get a start on those hilly miles before the larger pack of cyclists. I convinced Rich to push off in the dark about 30 minutes before the main group’s planned departure. Why else had we brought our bike lights if weren’t going to use them?

The first 15 or so miles are a little tricky, until you join highway 1 in Carmel. A few miles later we reached the Carmel Highlands and the ocean was once again on our right. At this point, and for most of the day’s ride, the shoulder would be almost non-existent so I was thankful for the early morning sunshine to enhance our visibility to motorists. The 90 or so miles that comprise the Big Sur coastline not only offer breath-taking views but also leg-breaking terrain for cyclists. There are just two Category 3 climbs in those 90 miles, so the 8,000ft of climbing comes largely through a relentless succession of rollers as Highway 1 clings unsurely to the jagged coastline.

Rich and I were trading off pulls consistently every mile, though he would let me to set the pace on the hills, lest I fall off his wheel if he were climbing upfront. As we ascended a small climb, he called me to look to my right towards the Pacific Ocean. I was ecstatic to see a small group of whales a couple of hundred yards offshore. January is in the middle of whale-watching season in Big Sur as California Gray Whales migrate south towards Baja California from their summer home in Alaska. I have cycled these roads numerous times but seeing whales was a first. The excitement re-energized my legs and we soon reached Ragged Point near the southern end of Big Sur for a well-deserved lunch break. I devoured the saltiest, grilled ham and cheese sandwich, I have ever tasted. Washed down with a diet coke, it hit the spot and I was ready for the final 45 mile run-in to Morro Bay.

The rollers taper off after you descend from Ragged Point and the visible landscape widens out. Combine that with a steady tailwind and the first twenty five miles from Ragged Point are fast and fun, a welcome boost to our average miles per hour. While less dramatic than the Big Sur coastline, the scenery remains appealing including an entire beach of sunbathing sea lions north of Cambria, just before the road heads inland for a few miles. The ocean is on your right once again for the final 10 mile push to Morro Bay. You immediately notice the town’s distinctive Morro rock, a 500 foot volcanic plug that sits at the harbor’s entrance. I was excited to see the rock but its sight belied the remaining distance. The last 10 miles seemed to pass by slowly. Rich and I were surprised that the large group had not yet caught us as we rode into town in search of our hotel and the SAG Monkey with all our gear. Next door to the hotel was a small taqueria so we delayed checking in for 20 minutes while we replenished with some fish tacos, chips and guacamole and some ice cold Tecates.

After 45 minutes in the recovery boots and a brief stop by the hotel’s *happy hour* wine-tasting, we joined the group dinner picnic tables assembled in front of the hotel and caught up with our fellow cyclists, swapping stories on the sights of the day: I caught up with a friend, Natalie, and she shared that “scarfing down a grilled ham and cheese at Ragged Point after all that crazy climbing was the highlight of the day!”

Day three brought the final leg of the journey: 120 miles from Morro Bay to Santa Barbara. I’ve done this ride before and while it’s the shortest day and the climbing is half of the day prior (4,000ft), it doesn’t feel any easier. What is more, the navigation is much more complicated and the route keeps you away from the Pacific Ocean for most of the day. The first 12 miles from Morro Bay to San Luis Obispo (SLO) are spent on the wide shoulder of highway 101, a two lane highway that is open to cyclists. We left with the main bunch and the pack of 70 cyclists riding two by two down the freeway must have been quite a sight for passing motorists.

Many riders stopped for coffee and bagels in the cute college town of SLO but with more than a hundred miles to go, a small group of us continued on. As the day warmed up, so did the legs of the stronger cyclists and the pace began to quicken. I was determined to hang on as long as possible, even if it meant burning every match in my book. The group of forty quickly splintered but I managed to stay with the front group of 15 or so, in spite of seeing my power meter read 300+ watts more times than I usually find comfortable. While I could never spell out directions for The Ride without a map, I knew which way to point my bike at each turn… that was a comforting feeling since I feared being dropped by this group at any point!

After a water stop in the farming town of Guadalupe, we plowed on towards the designated lunch stop in Lompoc. About 15 miles in, a couple of guys that I didn’t know well, went to the front and pushed the pace on the increasingly rolling terrain. I quickly found myself unhitched from the group, staring down 20 miles of solo riding to Lompoc. I half-expected to be caught by one of the grupettos behind. Indeed, I half-hoped I would be caught as the terrain was hilly and I was feeling the accumulation of miles in my legs from the prior two days. Misery loves company!

I put my head down, reminded myself to enjoy the journey and was quickly rolling by the Lompoc city limits sign. I was elated to reach Subway and find a bunch of cyclists in line to order. I grabbed a quick bite of my husband’s turkey sandwich and, rather than take a leisurely lunch, the two of us jumped on our bikes to tackle the final 40 miles. We pushed off at an easy pace with another rider, professional triathlete Kate Major. However, our departure had prompted a few others from the group to rally and they quickly joined us to form a group of 10 or so. I was amazed to find that a few guys were still feeling frisky after 300+ miles and disappointed that my plan of a steady pace with just 1-2 other riders had been so quickly foiled. I was soon ejected out of the back of the group on another solo journey. It was now a familiar pattern. The next 15 miles included a steady, stair-step climb but with a strong prevailing tailwind, it seemed easier than any prior ride and I was quickly descending to the coast for the final stretch to Santa Barbara: a 20 mile sting on highway 101. Rich had waited for me at the rest stop just as we joined 101 and I was thankful not to be riding on the highway solo. It was great to have the ocean once again on my right and we enjoyed the last few miles looking out on the Channel Islands and counting the oil derricks off the Santa Barbara county coast. We reached our exit in under an hour – thank you tailwind! – riding through city streets to the hotel where SAG Monkey was waiting with some victory beers!

Three days, 370 miles and 19 hours of cycling. I had completed my fourth coast ride. I handed off my bike to the crew to transport it back to San Francisco, grabbed a shower and then loaded up the minivan. An hour later, we set off on the journey north, keeping the ocean on our left.

The art of the Facebook status update

2009-02-17T06:52:00.000-08:00

There was a story in this past weekend's New York Times, discussing the variety of Facebook status updates. In an email exchange with a friend, she mentioned that she thought status updates fall into just a handful of categories. I've merged her categories with mine... any others?

1. Mundane - Having coffee. Going to bed. I'm cold. I'm home.
2. Esoteric - Is Fifth Business. Debt is the slavery of the free. Is closer than you think. Will insert Tab A into Slot B.
3. Location/Travel - At the Met. In Miami. Going to Mexico. Coming back to San Francisco.
4. Action - Tuning a cello. Riding to Point Reyes. Putting on snow chains. Reading the Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies.
5. Thought - Wondering if it is possible for a man to be a cougar. Loves caramel corn.
6. Culinary - French toast, coffee and Suzanne Vega. Izzy's for steak dinner with the boyz. Seared tuna, tomato salad and a glass of Cloudy Bay. Going to brunch at Ella's.
7. Inquiry - How do I put air in car tires? Anyone want to swim at OC at 3pm? Skiing in Tahoe this weekend?

Mt. Lemmon hill climb

2009-02-16T17:26:00.000-08:00

This is the profile of the climb I did today in Tuscon, Arizona. In fact, it's the third time that I have done this climb... but today's climb was my fastest and highest wattage, even though I rode resolutely in what most coaches would call zone 2. That gives me some good feedback on my conditioning so early in the year... even though I had done a lot more mileage at this stage in 2008, in February 2009, I am still fitter :) Yay!

Manchester United

2009-01-18T18:05:00.000-08:00

It is noteworthy to me that Manchester United ended the weekend at the top of the Barclays premiership table. They've been trailing league leaders Liverpool for the first half of the season but a solid run through the Boxing day and New Year period combined with faltering play by Liverpool and Chelsea in recent weeks has jettisoned MY team to the top of the table... with a game in hand!
(I really wanted to post THIS picture of Ronaldo)

I'm a *Man Utd* fan and always have been. Well, I've been a fan since 1982 when, while watching the World Cup that summer I developed a pre-teen crush on the then England and Manchester United captain, Bryan Robson. Incidentally, Bryan Robson also wore the famed #7 Man Utd shirt that has been worn by David Beckham and which currently adorns the torso of footballer of the year, Cristiano Ronaldo.

Funnily enough, it wasn't cool to be a Man Utd fan in the 1980s. They were a Premiership team (called Division 1 back then) but they hadn't won the division title for 20 years. It wasn't until 1985 that they even had any Cup success, beating Everton 1-0 to win the F.A. Cup. I recognize that since I hail from Sheffield, most would question my loyalty to a team based on the other side of the Pennines (300 mile ridgeline in the north of England that separates Yorkshire from Lancashire) but as you can see, there's history to my fandom. Nowadays, Manchester United is probably the *winningest* football team in the world with the most global fan base. No one would question that its players of the last 10 years are among the most famous... I mean, David Beckham and his clothes-horse wife, Victoria, regularly appear in the US gossip magazines, People and US Weekly... hilarious for a country that doesn't even know what football is... they can't even get the name right!

Life Rhymes...

2009-01-16T18:18:00.000-08:00

I was listening to the California Report on KQED in the car the other day and Michael Krazny's guest quoted Mark Twain: "History doesn't repeat itself, at best it sometimes rhymes." The quote struck a chord.

This week has been a particularly stressful one for me. A combination of the economic situation and a business unit reorganization generated layoffs of around 10% at my firm. I had been somewhat worried about the *safety* of my own position but I can thankfully report that I am still employed. Unfortunately, the positions of both my direct manager and her manager (my skip-level manager) were *eliminated* (euphemisms abound in these situations!).

The new organizational structure is much flatter and my new manager is a good friend. I'm happy for him because it's a great new role for him and I'm even happier for myself as I now have a cleaner reporting structure, more responsibility and the most triathlon-friendly manager I will ever have in my career! There'll be no need to explain why I need to miss the industry conference in Miami in October since I have some small race I'd like to do in Hawaii. He was calling and texting my coach all day long when I raced IMAZ and I'm sure he'll do the same for Hawaii... that's of course if he doesn't come and watch for himself!

This was not my first *downsizing process* at a financial institution but I feel very lucky that my position has never been *eliminated*... I've seen dear friends lose their jobs but on this occasion and in previous situations, I have been positively impacted. With the increased responsibilities, I'll be feeling a *little over my skis" for a while but I'll grow a lot in the process.

The Mark Twain quote felt pertinent as I wrestled with my new career reality, anxious about the new office world order, nervous about my bigger role and sad about the exited colleagues. I've been there before. The situation is different so "history has not repeated" but I've dealt with similar issues. Some physical and emotional rhythms are repeated... The echoes and resonances of those past experiences will help me handle the new situation with greater confidence than I might otherwise.

Simpson's Paradox

2009-01-09T06:06:00.000-08:00

I know that I am a maths (Brit) dork, given a past posting about *emailing equations* as well as a fascination with running numbers for everything I do... I remember all race times, splits, positions, wattages, min/mile paces etc...

I am actually more than a math dork, I am a statistics dork! Statistics was my inital major in college even though I eventually graduated with a double major in languages and only a minor in math and statistics! I suppose I was in denial in college but I soon put that straight after college joining a *white-shoe*, New York investment bank trading fixed income... now I work for an investment management firms that prides itself on the number of geeky quant jocks it employs :)

I delight in taking a statistical approach to things and recently I came across a work problem which reminded me of the *Yule-Simpson effect*, a.k.a. Simpson's Paradox. What is it, you ask? It is a statistical paradox, wherein, individual results are reversed when the results are combined into a group... simple, d'oh! That's probably not too clear, so let me try an *athletic* example... One of my favorite books, Michael Lewis' Moneyball, demonstrated the richness of statistics available in the world of baseball. Let's review some batting averages:

1995 1996 Combined
Derek Jeter 12/48 .250 183/582 .314 195/630 .310
David Justice 104/411 .253 45/140 .321 149/551 .270

In the example above, Justice had the higher batting average in both the '95 and '96 seasons (.253 and .321 respectively), but when you combine the two seasons, Jeter comes out on top (.310)!!! (gratuitous picture of Derek Jeter below)

How the heck does Jeter have the higher 2 season average?

Looking more closely at the results, this phenomenon occurs when there are large differences in the number of at-bats between seasons. I like to think of it as a scale issue, it's not just how well you do it, it's how often you do it!

So why does this Paradox suddenly capture my attention? After I won my age-group at Ironman Arizona last November, I bumped into an acquaintance who congratulated me on winning my age-group at the race and getting a *Kona slot*. She (intentionally?) weakened her congratulatory feedback by adding that it looked to be an *easy age-group*. WTF? What does that mean? I took it to assume that my age-group wasn't the fastest. Indeed, if you take away the forced groupings, the results might be different. She was right... I wouldn't have won any of the younger age-groups... but hey, I'm not younger so I won by the rules of the race! My race might have been different had I reacted in a more competitive fashion and picked up the pace when I was passed by a 28 year old versus a 38 year old? But I was racing for an age group placing and Kona slot, so I was officially racing against the 38 year old and not the 28 year old...

USA Triathlon rankings involve the same paradox. I could finish ahead of another age-grouper every time we compete against one another, but if that athlete races more or enters *easier* races, she may well have a higher ranking overall at the end of the season.

So what? I think reflecting on the above has been a healthy reminder that numbers, be they rankings, wattages, bpm are just that, numbers. They need a context, a comparison and a reference point to make them come alive... and even then we need to proceed cautiously...

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda...

2009-01-08T08:19:00.001-08:00

I keep thinking of things I would like to write about... if only I had the time... when I change my full-time career from financier to writer? I think I'll keep my day job and continue to pay the rent/bills!

Human interaction - the small stuff... basically the concept of feeling better about yourself and gaining positive vibes from others by being upbeat, pleasant, making smalltalk... at the grocery store, to the valet guys, at the water cooler... Maybe it's just me that gets a buzz from this, but a positive human interaction, however mundane, lifts my spirits.

Give me back my Gym! - the overwhelming increase in people working out at the gym in January... a direct result of lofty New Year's resolutions which will fade by the 3rd week of January... but which annoys the hell out of the *regulars* for those few weeks!

Simpson's Paradox - case-wise superiority but overall inferiority as applied to the Age-group competition in triathlon. Forgive my academic background as a mathematician but this is basically the concept that as an age-grouper, you can consistently win races but still not have great overall rankings... depends which races you do, who shows up etc.

Vineman has sold out!

2009-01-07T06:17:00.000-08:00

There goes my race plan unless I can use my resources and contacts to finagle an entry? I was looking at the alternatives for another mid-season 70.3 race and unfortunately the Boise Idaho race clashes with Alcatraz... which I cannot possibly miss... A more realistic alternative is the Lake Stevens (Seattle, WA) race which takes place in August. However, that will come right after my BIG week of training in the Sierras... What should I do? Maybe I need a more flexible plan? Ditch the Tahoe training week?

Actually, it was much easier... I used my contacts and got myself off the waitlist already :)

2009 Goals

2009-01-02T08:36:00.000-08:00

I don't want to make any New Year resolutions but I have a few goals for 2009, many of which relate to the triathlon racing season... since I already qualified for Hawaii with my *flukey* performance at Arizona, I feel confident and relaxed about training in 2009, although the *success* at Arizona prompts me to think I can achieve even more in 2009 so the goals will seem a little lofty ;) Of course, in true JC-style, the goals will come in the form of a Top Ten List!

10. Swim at least 10k every week (unless it's a work travel week)
9. Do the core program 2x/week
8. Run regularly at the track and include form drills
7. Run sub 1:40 at a half-ironman
6. Take rest and recovery seriously
5. Stop eating peanut butter chocolate malt balls (highly correlated with #1)
4. Cook more... even if it means finding people to cook for ;)
3. Manage my triathlon/travel budget
2. Run a 3:45 marathon at IMH
1. Maintain a race weight of 125lbs (will help with the run goals!)

Dude, I won...! Ironman Arizona race report

2008-12-01T12:32:00.000-08:00

After a 2 and a half year hiatus from Ironman racing, this past Sunday I returned to the site of my last race in April 2006 (Tempe, Arizona) and toed the line for my 5th Ironman distance race at Ironman Arizona.

Those last 2 ½ years have been tumultuous and uncertain for me: I left JPMorgan, my employer for the prior 10 years, unsure that I could ever regain a passion for my career and finance again, I was chased out of the US due to an immigration snafu, unsure if I’d ever make it back to California again, I spent 4 winter months in London unsure if I’d ever see sunlight again, I battled with anemia and exhaustion for almost a year, unsure if I’d ever run a sub-9 minute mile without collapsing to the floor again.

Ironically, it was the week before Thanksgiving last year that blood tests revealed my hematocrit was 29% and that I was severely anemic. I still haven’t figured out why it happened but understanding the cause of my fatigue brought with it solutions: daily dosages of iron supplements and treating filet mignon as a dietary necessity instead of a luxury!

Sunday’s race was the culmination of a year-long process not only to get myself healthy again, but also to get myself to the level of supreme fitness required to challenge for a *Kona slot* in an Ironman triathlon. My life/work situation had changed since my last Ironman race and therefore my training also had to change to accommodate my unconventional work hours (~5am to 3pm) and the reduced amount of time I had to dedicate to training.

I won’t bore you with all the minutiae of the race but here are a few bullet-points:
- the swim was easily the roughest triathlon swim of my career as I was getting beaten up all the way to the halfway turnaround buoy
- exiting the swim in the top third of competitors (instead of the bottom half) offers up a very different dynamic on the bike. I’m used to just riding by tons of people but this time I was surrounded by packs of guys, with very few women in sight
- the first 5 miles and the last 5 miles of the run were the hardest 10 miles of my life
- the entire marathon was an agonizing mental battle with my mind whipsawing between thoughts of quitting the race and the insanity of the race distance and dreams of achieving all my racing goals

As for the race results, I got off the bike in first place in my age-group, briefly relinquished that lead in the middle of the marathon before snatching it back in the closing miles. I finished in a total time of 10 hours 33 minutes and 6 seconds, some 33 minutes faster than my previous best, good enough for 1st place in my age-group and an AG course record. I PR’ed every leg of the race with a swim of 1:09, a bike split of 5:19 and a marathon time of 3:56. I also qualified for next year’s Ironman Hawaii! I’m in shock… I think I’ve revisited the ironman.com website 10 times since the race just to check that I did indeed just have the *race of my life*!

The Winged O

2008-11-25T12:36:00.000-08:00

The Olympic Club is a San Francisco institution. It was established in 1860 in San Francisco and during the past 148 years, the Club and its members have been dedicated to the pursuit of amateur athletic excellence. The Olympic Club enjoys the distinction of being America's oldest athletic Club providing facilities, coaching and financial support for amateur athletes in a wide variety of sports. Most famous is the Lakeside Club, home to one of the top golf courses in California and the future host of the 2012 US Open. The downtown Club includes two full-size swimming pools, a running track and indoor courts for every sport imaginable (squash, racquetball, basketball, handball, soccer).

In an era where conventional wisdom and a lot of sponsorship and advertising dollars support the fact that sport is as much of a profession as a Wall Street banker, nurturing and supporting elite amateur athletics seems quaint, something from a bygone era. Becoming a member of The Club doesn't disabuse you of this notion. A quick read of the monthly magazine, The Olympian, underscores the focus on sporting prowess and achievement, but it is far from your average workout facility. There is a strict Clubhouse dress code (jacket and tie, no jeans) and an event list that comprises Fight Night, Crab Feeds and lectures from visiting academic luminaries.

As a competitive triathlete for the past 7 years, I had come across and competed against *Olympians* in their internationally recognized *Winged O* tri-kit. When I returned to San Francisco from London in 2007, I began seeking a new triathlon sponsor and was quickly recruited to the Olympic Club triathlon team. *Recruited* in the amateur sense since there are no signing bonuses or multi-year contracts for my commitment to wearing the Winged O, although the interview process rivaled BGI's in the number of interviewers and the detailed resume questions!

I just completed my first full season racing for the O-Club triathlon team and the season ended on a high note. I won my age-group division at Ironman Arizona in a course record time of 10hrs and 33 minutes. For those unfamiliar with triathlon distances, an Ironman comprises a 2.4mi swim, a 112mi bike ride and a 26.2mi run. Of course, as an amateur athlete my prize for winning the race was non-monetary... a 1st place Lucite trophy, a finisher's medal and finisher's t-shirt but most importantly I won the right to endure the Ironman experience all over again at the Ironman World Championships in Hawaii next October.

Anemia

2007-11-29T20:52:00.000-08:00

So I discovered why I've been so *pokey* in racing triathlon this year... I have iron-deficient anemia! Hematocrit levels of 29-30% and ferritin levels well below the normal range are the reason for my heart rate spiking the second I go uphill on the bike or try to pick up the pace on the run... it all makes sense now! D'oh!

Boca Raton junket

2007-10-28T19:47:00.000-07:00

It's a picture of the morning catch of four dolphin fish and 2 kingfish… this morning's fishing escapade! I also landed a barracuda and a silky shark, both of which had to be returned to their ocean homeland :(

I was just off the coast of Fort Lauderdale and it was my first ever game fishing *junket*… alas, with the 4-5ft swells I spent the first 30 minutes of the trip regurgitating last night's steak dinner. Eeuuww!

However, my contribution to the *chum* seemed to awaken the fish, the catching of which became a welcome distraction to my weak sea legs. We had about 6-8 lines in the water at any point in time and it was a ballet-like scene as I ducked and dived on deck to avoid entangling lines with fellow fishermen as we reeled in our bounty.

I was too quick to judge… this has to be my photo of the day… a portrait of Donald Trump that was hanging in his Mar a Lago mansion in Palm Beach…

“Anyone for cricket?”

Sentinel 2007

2007-10-01T19:45:00.001-07:00

Wow… it was fantastic to see so many Lombardi jerseys out on the course today… and all of them were smokin' fast! Great to see Paul, Andy, Ray, Greg, Charlie, Tricia and Elizabeth tear up the course!

My race was an *on again, off again, on again* event this week… depending on which day you asked me. My mood was moving in line with work and the financial markets. Thankfully, the markets closed up on Friday… so I guess I was racin'…

My day was eventful before the gun went off. My pre-race preparation was cavalier at best, having decided to sleep chez moi on Saturday night. A distracting locale! I was throwing race gear into my backpack at 10pm, forgoing the *laminated tri-geek checklist* that I created for such occasions. I woke at 4am on Sunday, scoffed down a yoghurt (who eats yoghurt pre-race?) and then set off for the drive to Santa Cruz. It was just as I was cresting the Santa Cruz mountains on highway 17, I realized that I had left 2 key items at home… sunglasses and my bike helmet! Oops! $7.99 plus tax at the Chevron gas station solved the sunglasses problem but WTF was I going to do about the helmet??? I broke the news to Katie as I arrived in transition and she leapt into action to beg, steal or borrow me a helmet, securing one from Olympic Club swim coach, Scott Williams. I would have made a great spectator but I really appreciate Katie and Scott's efforts to make me race J

The race itself was fairly uneventful… no kicks to the head in the swim… I hammered for all of 5 minutes on the bike and then came to my fitness senses, and notched the wattage down… I was *as pokey as they come* in transition… and the run was *hang on for dear life* by mile 3 as I had somehow skipped the 4 th triathlon discipline, "nutrition".

Results – not as shockingly bad as I thought they would be! 12 minutes slower than the last time I raced Sentinel, but good enough for lucky 13th place, racking up 7:40 min/mi on the run and over 20mph on the bike. I even had a swim that was middle of the pack!

Fleet Week in San Francisco

2007-09-28T19:06:00.000-07:00

Some photos taken from my friend's deck... the Blue Angels aerial display...

That's water spray...

River luge... Tahoe 2007

2007-08-13T17:07:00.000-07:00

I just returned from a week of swimming, biking and running in and around Lake Tahoe in a desperate attempt to get in shape before the triathlon season is well and truly over... I was doing pretty well, training hard, sleeping lots, managing my nutrition... that is until my friend, Wendy, showed up and slowly led me astray from my more serious demeanor. What fun!

Here are some pictures from the trip. I swam across Donner Lake - a repeat of last year's swim but this time was 5 minutes faster, in spite of the choppy conditions. A long swim is never the highlight of any trip or race for me but the Saturday that started with a 3 mile swim only got better as the day progressed! After a hearty bagel sandwich for breakfast/brunch, the gang went for a ride. As we rode through Tahoe City, a jolly nice man tagged onto our ride... and I recognized him as Conrad Stoltz, Xterra triathlete. The South African accent is hard to hide. Thankfully, he jumped on the front and dragged us all back to Truckee, even pulling Wendy and I up the steep slopes of Northwoods Blvd!

Post-ride, we rounded up a small group to head over to the Truckee River for some impromptu rafting... poor's man's rafting consists of heading down the river on some $5 lilo's... I christened the sport *River luge-ing* and I'm pretty sure that I won the race down the river :)

We headed over to Tahoe City mainstay, Sunnyside, for a view of Lake Tahoe over Saturday night's dinner! Here's me with Wendy and Megan.

Sisters...

2007-08-02T17:51:00.000-07:00

A picture from my youngest sister, Jill's, wedding. Youngest to oldest, l-r.

I love Lucy

2007-05-29T20:59:00.000-07:00

I often joke that my life is a *comedy of errors* that I somehow muddle through with the support of fantastic friends, family and a variable sense of optimism. I manage to clinch some small success every now and again such that I can shrug off most roadblocks within the hour, day or week. I confess that I did go through a 3 week funk last summer but that has been the extent of my *depths of pessimism*… well, that is aside from an entire year of listening to The Smiths’ song “Asleep” when I was 17, and crushing on a boy that never smiled.

This past weekend challenged my sense of optimism in multiple ways… from the minor to the dramatic to the sentimental…

Saturday morning – Show up at Hertz location at 6am to pick up rental car… they don’t have one so I have to wait one hour
Sunday afternoon – Ride my bike for an easy four hours but am unable to walk by the time I get off because my shins are so sore… new injury? Ugh!
Monday morning – Walk over to street location where I parked the rental car, only to find the passenger window was completely smashed in. Four hours of “please hold” and filing administrative reports at Hertz, police station and with Visa
Monday evening – I remove my Tiffany heart necklace (given to me by my sister on her wedding day 15 years ago) and by sleight of hand drop it down my bathroom sink
Tuesday morning – wake up with a sore throat and really bad headache… first signs of a head cold!

Thankfully, today I was back in the office (how much trouble can I cause there) and despite the head cold deteriorating, the day was uneventful. This evening I was blackberrying a colleague/friend about work stuff, our upcoming trip to Hawaii and my weekend of woes…

Read on for the aforementioned email exchange… apologies that it’s long!

Tim: Feeling any better or are you legitimately sick?

Jordan: I’m sniffling, blowing my nose and swallowing hard? How about you? Btw, have you talked much w/[XYZ] since she got the feedback on the equity trading role?

Tim: I spent about 10 mins w/ her on Fri after she heard that she probably won't get it (which in Sobel-speak means absolute 0% chance). She seemed bummed, of course, and concerned that she doesn't have a path to anything else. My advice to her was 1) get/stay committed and 2) to talk w/ you.

Jordan: Running out the door but I want to run some things by you about her sitch, if you're willing to be a sounding board? We did have a long chat today.

Tim: Sure, of course. I don't have any voice at all, though (literally). I can mostly listen or you can jot thoughts down in email. Or we can talk when my voice is better (a day or two, I hope?).

Jordan: Sure. Let's catch up in Hawaii. I just spent a couple of hours packing and now I am completely exhausted! This cold better be short-lived!

Tim: You fly Thurs? If you have the optimism to pack, planning to race, you are better off than me. And we know what happened the last time you raced sick. :-)
If you aren't getting a car, you are in luck. I'm picking up my San Diego friend, Tim (Flood), who gets in at 11:08. Happy to get you at the same time. We have a minivan.

Jordan: Thanks for the offer but I’m getting a car. Also, I'm just jotting some thoughts down on XYZ... Not sure if I should email or just use as talking points when we catch up...

Tim: We can talk. Probably easier. I just spoke w/ Mark. We may come over from the airport for a bit on Thurs. That might be a good time. Or if you are going to Sandy's Sat night dinner at the Hilton.

Jordan: Not going to Sandy's dinner...Mark and Jay want a chill dinner at home. Fine with me. I'm going to run errands when I land, get my bike tuned, go to Safeway and buy myself an M-dot necklace (lost my precious Tiffany necklace down the sink this weekend!)

Tim: Down the sink? Another soap opera moment. What with the car trials, now this and the injury/illness?!? What are you, the English Lucy Ricardo?! We may overlap on Thurs. Or, maybe after the Fri am swim. Or sometime around registration or bike check. You'll be up our way a couple times. Hang w/ us for lunch, or we may have an early dinner on Fri.

Jordan: Yeah, shitty friggin' weekend! I've had that necklace 15 years...classic tiffany heart. Who is lucy ricardo? What about sunday? Post-race?

Tim: That is a bummer. Did you try removing the p-trap? It likely would've been caught there. Might still be there, seriously. Sure, post-race, or awards ceremony (assuming you go). Lots of time. Lucy Ricardo... Of "I Love Lucy" fame from the '50s. Always had stuff like that happen.

Jordan: What's the p-trap?

Tim: Does your drain pipe go straight down from the sink? If so, pull the drain plug up and shoot a light in there. You might be able to see inside the bottom of the p-trap.

Jordan: It goes straight down and then is u-shaped and turns backwards towards the wall.

Tim: The "u" is the p-trap. See how it would use gravity to trap water? See if you can look directly down it w/ a flashlight.

Jordan: There's water down there, hard to say if there's anything else...how would I dismantle it?

Tim: Depends on the plumbing used. Really old stuff is tricky. '60s and later is better. New stuff is cake. Is it white plastic (pvc) black plastic (abs) or metal?

Jordan: hmmm, doesn't exactly screw off at the intersections of the pipe joints either...prob a good thing by hand!

Tim: It doesn't have to handle any pressure, just water. No need for them to be super tight. Thus the cheap pvc is ok to use. Metal fits looser and is harder to do. It likely uses rubber o-rings in the joints to prevent leaks. You need a plumber or a handyman. I'd do it for you if close by. The good news: it ain't goin' anywhere if it's still there.
Try this. Unwind a coat hanger. Bend a hook in one end. Fish it down there and see if you can hook it. This may work.

Jordan: Better yet, I'll try and call Manuel (the handyman) to see if he can stop by tomorrow.

Tim: The coat hangar could well work, or let you know if it is for sure there, and take you 2 mins....

Jordan: Genius...

Tim: Did it work?!

Jordan: Yep... Coat-hanger clutched the charm necklace and a few stray hairs (gunk) from the jaws of the p-tube!!! So I have to buy you a mai-tai or three this weekend!!!

Tim: P-TRAP. :-)

I'm very glad. All this construction knowledge in my head is rarely useful at work. Made the sore thumbs worth it!

Jordan: Makes me reconsider the benefits of a guy around...

Tim: LOL. Some things are better outsourced... Bedtime. May we both wake healthy tomorrow.

American Irony

2007-05-24T18:26:00.000-07:00

Is there any irony in the fact that on the same day (today) that I submitted my Labor Certification/Green Card application for permanent US residency, I received a letter and award from USA Triathlon to let me know that I achieved *All-American* status in 2006?

having it all... or not

2007-03-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

the following came about in an email exchange that i'd been having with a dear friend... i sent him a snap email voicing some frustrations i'm having in my current *world* and then we went back and forth until i finally wrote the following

i've been struggling in the last few weeks because i spent 5 months in london, desperately wanting to be back in san francisco... and now that i'm back i'm not particularly happy. it's driving me a little batty... i suspect that the unhappiness is being generated by my usual *tricks* of trying to run before i can walk... basically, impatience.

don't get me wrong, i am deliriously happy that i am here in sf. there is nowhere else i want to be living right now, i am excited to be back among my friends, and for the most part i am enjoying the new job... but there are several underlying things that seem to be frustrating me.

work - i am not yet in control or on top of things in my role. this issue will just take time and requires me to build my confidence in the role, seize control of projects etc. my current annoyance is that i become bitter/frustrated when i can't get out of the office when i plan to because something comes up. i have a huge capacity for work but i have a hard time working from 5am and then not getting out of the office until 4-5pm, even if i had planned on leaving at 3pm. i guess i need to just leave and then pick things up again later in the evening... as well as try to eradicate the guilt i feel when i leave the office at 3pm!

training - i am desperate to get back in shape, especially on the bike, but also swim/run. i'm getting in some decent training, 8-10 hours of riding/week plus 3 hours each of swim/run. however, it's going really slowly... and i'm sick of folks not realizing that it will take me some time. maybe it's in my head (it's not, i'm a data geek, remember), but i am not getting stronger in leaps and bounds... it is miniscule increments. it feels like everyone expects me to be back riding with the group again, and are shocked when i roll off the back fairly easily on hills. how long does it take to come back from a 6 month break from riding? i guess it's a lot longer than 1 month... will i even be in shape for IMK?

romantic - let's not even go here... this has been a non-event anyway since i got back from london since the above two have taken precedence and i have not met anyone or even attempted to... however, i want to give it more of a priority in 2007, i'm just not sure how i can do so. i've never had a successful relationship when i've tried to *force it*, as it were. i prefer the attitude of just letting things happen, though that is counter to my natural disposition... so in that scenario, if i do meet someone, i don't appear interested initially, but i end up behaving like a knucklehead (technical term!) if i begin to like someone. this is not making any sense, huh? the other frustration is that, if i'm going to do the work/training to a level that makes me happy, then how can i put any focus on this...?

friends - this is the *deliriously happy* part... but my frustrations at the above 3 things will start to bleed into my friendships and drag them down if i can't figure out a way of managing my life and lifestyle without feeling bitter about the compromises and lack of control...

Tucson, Arizona

2007-02-24T06:33:00.000-08:00

I spent last weekend in Tucson, Arizona, trying to ride myself into some sort of shape... riding my bike has felt pretty awful since returning from London, but I'm trying to convince myself that it will just take a long weekend of BIG rides to get my butt a little more comfortable in the saddle. We shall see what happens when my legs absorb all the *work* I did last weekend.

The Oche...

2007-01-14T11:07:00.000-08:00

Well, the US embassy has failed to return my passport so I continue to be a *prisoner* in my own country… thankfully it’s more of an administrative prisoner than anything else… but it is frustrating! I stopped working in the London office last Wednesday, thinking that my passport HAD to arrive no later than the weekend. Unfortunately, the US embassy seemed unsympathetic to my weekend plans of cycling the entire length of the California coast and so I remain stuck in England. As well as leaving the office last week, I left my apartment in London, so I’ve been *holed* up at the Metropolitan hotel all week, ordering eggs benedict from room service for breakfast, eating at Nobu for dinner and climbing the walls of my hotel room in between the two meals! After three days at the Met, I decided to relieve the pressure on the expense account and take the train home for the weekend to visit the family, including my little 5 week old niece, Grace.

Just to give you some insight as to how desperate I am to get back to California… as if the above description is not enough. I am spending my Sunday evening watching the World Darts Championship, televised live from a cabaret venue (basically a large pub) in the South of England. The two contenders for the World title are two British 50 year olds with beer guts that a pregnant woman would be proud of… To reach the hallowed oche (pronounced ocky – the mat where darts’ players stand – 9ft from the board) they have out-thrown a bunch of other Brits, plus the odd Dutchman. Two nations universally known more for their beer-guzzling than athleticism… Ill leave you to make the connection. Globally-speaking, the World Championship is to Darts, what the World Series is to Baseball, a local affair! That is not the end of the American sporting comparisons, as our darts world title contenders are dressed in shirts that any local bowling team in the US would be proud of… probably even more proud when they realize that the sponsor logos are almost exclusively beer companies!

My godparents are also visiting for dinner but I am playing the outcast role (that I have always played) in the family by eschewing my father’s menu of chili con carne on a baked potato, with rice (seriously – rice is considered a vegetable in this household), and made myself some baked chicken in tomato sauce and salad, swilled down by some NZ sauv blanc that my dad picked up from the local offie (colloquialism for off-licence sales). Thank goodness he picked up two bottles ;-)

Emailing equation

2007-01-01T12:39:00.000-08:00

I came across an equation the other day that seeks to *quantify* the volume/frequency that friends will email you... I believe that you can use it for friends, family, boyfriend, manager, etc. but I have to thoroughly test it since there are limitations and/or enhancements that are probably necessary. Although it is specifically formulated for people you are particularly close with, and so if the person actually does not have much of a reason to email you (say the person is Brad Pitt, for instance), then you have to factor that in.

How Often X Person Will Email Me =[(Hours of Time Online + Amount Slept)/Job Fun] – [close friends within a 20 mile radius – number of significant others] = the number of emails you receive.

Let’s practice. I’ll use myself as an example so I don't make my friends feel so bad about not emailing me!

Hours of Time Online: 11 (10 at work and 1 at home)
Amount Slept: 6.5
Job Fun Factor on a scale of 1 to 3: 2.5
Number of Significant Others: 0
Number of Close friends within a 20 mile radius: 1, (Mary)

[(11+6.5)/2.5] – [0-1] = 8. I should be sending ~8 emails a day to my friends.

Try it, I'm sure you'll find flaws. But it is kind of genius. One enhancement I might consider embedding into the equation would be some sort Blackberry multiplier, for those friends that are Blackberry-enabled...

The goose is getting fat...

2006-12-18T13:15:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday I attended the annual Serpentine Running Club Christmas Dinner... it was only the second year that they've hosted this black tie affair at the Hilton in Kensington, but I think that still deserves the title of *annual*! Above is a picture of myself with some of my dinner and dancing companions for the evening, Russell, Ben and Dean (l-r).

The remainder of the weekend was spent recovering from the excesses of the preceding week... 3 consecutive nights of client/work events. The highlight was probably the canape and wine tasting evening hosted by Michel Roux Jr., the celebrated head chef of London's Le Gavroche restaurant.

While I am desperately miserable that I remain in London with no visibility into the timing of my return to San Francisco, I am beginning to adopt a better workout routine while I'm over here. I think my coach, Chris, was probably right when he told me that my body needed a solid break after racing 4 ironmans in 2 years! Well, after 3 months in London of little activity, and lots of eating and drinking, the proverbial goose (JC) was getting fat as well as out of shape and was not very happy about it. Last week I realized that I was ready to get back into training... serious training. It's not just a question of wanting to work out more and/or wanting to feel toned again, what I truly miss is that sense of accomplishment after a tough workout... but I also miss the training partners I have in SF. Too inumerable to mention but knowingly or otherwise, they encourage me to push myself to the edge and beyond of what I think I can achieve.

I also want to give a big *shout out* to friends that ran the xmas relays in SF this past weekend, especially to Dirk Vlieks, who ran a 4.5 mile relay leg just 6 months after suffering a brain AVM, and having had ~6 brain surgeries since June. Way to go Dirk!

Roman Holiday

2006-12-01T10:49:00.000-08:00

I managed to steal a couple of days away from the office and headed to Rome to meet up with Ray and Peter for a long weekend. We were treated to some balmy temperatures (for late November) and wonderful Roman sunshine. Unfortunately we were a week too late to attend TomKat’s wedding but we did eat and drink and eat and drink in style! I’m still recovering (feeling the weight) from all those extra calories, drinking and late nights.

One could speculate that the weekend’s excesses played a direct role in *feeling under the weather* this week. I made an early exit from the Goldman Sachs xmas party last night, decided not to set an alarm today and finally woke up at 8:30am! I called the office and croaked to my colleague that I would not be going in today. I can’t believe that this is the second time I’ve been sick in just 3 months of being in London! The city does not like me? The cold, wet weather does not agree with me? Thankfully I had the last two episodes of Prison Break Season 2 to keep me occupied while holing myself up in my little basement flat!

By late afternoon I developed cabin fever and found myself offering to take my landlady’s dog, Ruski, for a walk around Hyde Park. The pooch is a newcomer to Maddie’s house - she picked up the one year old husky from the pound just two weeks ago – and it was the first time that I had walked him. The dog was completely disinterested in me (and humans more generally) but turned into a raging, uncontrollable hound at the sight of any sort of wildlife… other dogs, squirrels, birds, ducks and especially swans. Oh why did Jordan decide to walk Ruski the Husky around the Serpentine (lake in Hyde Park)? At the first sight of the white waterlogged birds, Ruski yanked on the leash with all of his 90lbs and dragged me along at sprint speed, headed straight into the water. Before I could get him back under control, I was ankle deep in the murky Serpentine waters and the lake had become a cacophony of duck and swan songs! Then it started to pour with rain…

Casino Royale... Shaken and Stirred

2006-11-18T13:39:00.000-08:00

I’ll start by sharing my favorite line from this week’s new James Bond movie, Casino Royale.

Waiter: “How would you like that martini, sir? Shaken or stirred?”
007 James Bond: “Do I look like I give a damn?”

Well, after this week in the office, I probably could not give a damn how my martini is served. Though the *roughing up* that I endured was more mental than the physical sort that Daniel Craig faced! Between the exhausting job and a couple of work-related soirees, I’m too exhausted this Saturday evening to do anything but download and watch the latest episode of Prison Break and watch the “exciting, live results show” for Strictly Come Dancing.

In case I have not mentioned it to you all a thousand times already, I somehow lucked into the hottest ticket in London for 2006 – an invite to the Royal premiere of the new Bond movie in London’s famous Leicester Square.

I’ll stop well short of writing a movie review, as you can get that at http://www.nytimes.com/, but I did enjoy the flick, all 2hrs 10mins. But I will confess to being highly uncomfortable sitting in a movie theater for over 2.5 hours wearing full black tie garb and 3” heels. It didn’t stop me from grabbing a whole bunch of candy (white mice and cola bottles) and popcorn, but swilling it down with champagne seemed rather out of place!

Going back to the pre-movie paraphernalia (let’s face it, the premiere has nothing to do with the movie itself!), here’s my tidbit… The plebes (myself among them) were supposed to take the *pink carpet* to the theater and leave the *red carpet* to the Royal party, movie stars and other A-listers… but a quasi-menacing security guard has never stopped me. I snatched the arm of my young analyst from BGI, Spencer, and dragged the startled slip of a boy on a lap of the red carpet, to the confusion of the paparazzi, who clearly could not place us but flashed their light-bulbs anyway!

That’s pretty much my story for the week… Sunday beckons and I need some sleep before my morning swim and run, an afternoon of laundry and reading the paper followed by dinner with a college friend.

London redux

2006-11-06T13:25:00.000-08:00

Okay… it is undoubtedly time that I give London its dues and come up with a list of things… redeeming qualities… stuff that I missed while in the US but did not realize… the list also acknowledges that I’m not moping around while I’m back home, rather that I’m having a jolly ole time!

10. BBC News. I enjoy listening to the news again… it helps that I went to university with one of the top newscasters
9. European accents. I can’t go anywhere without hearing French, Italian, Spanish… Russian, Polish, Russian, Polish… London is so Eastern European!
8. The landscape and architecture. What other city could I go for a 6mi lunch run along the river and see every possible tourist sight in the city?
7. Strictly Come Dancing – my favorite British TV show
6. Eye candy… there are a lot of jaw-droppingly handsome men walking the streets and working with me in London!
5. British sports - I have been so psyched to watch the smorgasbord of sports on telly - rugby, football, snooker (yeah, I know), Formula 1, cricket
4. Branston Pickle and Picallili – curiously British pickles that I can buy for a $1 (instead of $6/jar in the US)
3. Guy Fawkes’ Night bonfire and fireworks (11/5) – a British reminiscence of a failed terrorist act to blow up parliament
2. Being the foreigner… no one believes I’m British… it gives me an edge!
1. The rest of Europe… actually, I have not ventured outside England yet but I am soooo looking forward to a Thanksgiving trip to Rome!

Sick as a dawg

2006-11-02T13:04:00.000-08:00

Okay, this is a cheating entry... I'm copying and pasting from an email that I wrote to friends.

Apart from being *sick as a dog*, there’s not much to report about my last week or so in London. I just bailed on my plans for the evening (with my old boss from JPM New York, John, who has been living in London for several years). I’m not sure that I will even go to the office tomorrow. Two different people commented how bad/tired I looked as I left the office this evening. :-( I have so much to do… and I don’t get paid if I don’t go in…

Last weekend, I went home to my parents’ house for the weekend since they were taking care of my niece, Alexia, for a few days. I hung out with Alexia all weekend. She loved me for 24 hours and then *cooled* towards me for the second 24 hours… she was basically playing me off against my father for attention. Apparently, she cried after I left and told my parents how much she loved me and was missing me already! Hilarious and intriguing to see her emotions play out. The downside of the weekend was that my parents managed to give me their colds!

I’ve not done much socializing in the past week or so since I was at home in Derbyshire and then sick all week. I did grab a drink with a Stanford alum on Tuesday evening. He works for McKinsey here in London.

Apologies if the next *blow by blow* of an athletic episode is too girly… By way of background, Paul (let's call him PB for anonynimity's sake?) is the guy that I developed a crush for… but discovered last Friday evening that he has a (cute) girlfriend. I am seeking a new crush… but I was psyched that he asked me to run with him!

There are two equity traders in the office that provide me daily eye candy in my work environment. Well, actually, there are three cute guys on the entire trading floor but the third guy is an obnoxious, fixed income Portfolio Manager for who I have developed a strong dislike. Anyway, back to my equity boys. TL (married Aussie) and PB (Brit w/ gf) run *together* every Thursday. This week they invited me to run with them. It's a 6.2mi loop from Tower Hill westwards to Westminster, across the Thames and back along the south bank to Tower Bridge and the office. However, upon induction into the routine, I discovered that the guys don't actually run together... PB sets off about 8-10mins before TL and the latter usually catches PB during the last couple of miles or so. I set off with PB and it was a reasonably comfortable pace (but not a stroll in the park). There's foot traffic and stairs but we were basically on a 7:30min/mi pace. I was chatting w/ him and his breathing didn’t appear labored or anything. Anyway, we ran the loop and TL caught us at the last traffic light from the office - 100yards from the finish. I stopped my watch and told PB that it was 48 minutes. He looked shocked and then a huge smile broke across his face as he told me that I had dragged him to a PB by a couple of minutes! As I left the building this evening, TL was walking back to the tube station with another colleague, Simon, who he introduced as the Head of equity trading (his and Paul's boss). As TL introduced me, Simon commented: "So you're the girl that crushed PB on the run today. He claims that you were running easy and could have run quite a bit faster!" I guess it's hard to replicate the scene but it was funny for me to hear that our lunch run became a *topic of conversation* on the trading desk in the afternoon, enough at least for his boss to hear about it. I've also been *welcomed into the fold* for subsequent runs/swims! London gets more fun by the day!

It seems like I may not make it to the office tomorrow (but I’d like to go but…) so I’m not sure what the weekend will bring. A Canadian friend has invited me out tomorrow night to some swanky, new private club… and then on Saturday, I’ve been invited to a Fireworks’-watching cocktail party hosted by my landlady’s daughter. I just hope that I feel well enough to make the most of the invitations!

I left my heart in San Francisco

2006-10-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

I was thinking today about the things I miss from SF… here’s my top ten…

10. Crunchy Almond butter from Wholefoods
9. The corner store that is open until 2am… which sells Haagen Dazs ice cream (I have a drunk sweet tooth!)
8. Tivo and 250+ TV channels
7. My bed… in particularly all the pillows that I end up spooning at some point in the night
6. Viactiv calcium chews
5. Free samples in the grocery stores
4. Crossing the GGB with my biking buddies
3. My 5 minute commute to/from the office
2. My discount at Lombardi’s… I bought a new pair of sneakers this weekend and they cost me $200 (vs $100 at Lombardis)
1. The no smoking ban in all bars and restuarants

There are advantages to being in London… and England more generally. That may have to be the topic of my next list… a top 3 or maybe I can stretch it to 5?

Day trader

2006-10-12T14:32:00.000-07:00

I'm starting to settle into something of a routine here in London as I get up the learning curve at work and life. The US embassy's consulate office is currently *reviewing my case*. I was REALLY hoping to hear something today but I think things are delayed because of this week's Columbus Day holiday.

In the meantime, I just sit and wait… as well as work my ass off. It’s hard work but I’m having fun. I'm being teased by my colleagues on the desk for flirting with our European counterparties... I seem to be able to get a quarter of a point better pricing if I'm trading with a couple of French guys at Citigroup and Morgan Stanley who both know that I speak French and insist that I speak French with them!

But it’s taking me a little while to get used to the 12 hour days (shocker!), plus the 1-1.5 hour commute but it just means that I don’t have time for triathlon. I’ve been running a decent amount but not so much swimming. I swam once with Matt Dixon’s brother, Peter, (another elite swimmer!) but I ended up getting home too late in the evening to do that on a regular basis. Today I came across a couple of guys in the office that swim at lunchtime so I’ll try and tag along with them for a few sessions. It's an Aussie and a Brit that did Ironman Switzerland last year... I had already checked out the Aussie as the cutest guy on the floor... but he's married! The Brit was also cute... until he spoke and I discovered he has a really strong Essex-boy accent…

Londinium

2006-09-20T12:31:00.000-07:00

I still have a week of *vacation* before starting work next Monday. Though I’m excited to start work… call me crazy? Reality is that I have a week of *reacquainting myself with life in England*… I seriously feel like a foreigner here! I don’t quite speak the language, I don’t quite know where I’m going, I don’t quite have a job, I don’t quite have a coterie of friends…

I also received an email from my manager here in London inviting me to a black tie (work) event this coming Friday… guess what, I don’t quite have an outfit. I brought a long black (really tight) dress over from SF in case I’m here for a xmas party… but I’m not sure that this particular dress will be quite etiquette for a work event… plus it requires me holding my stomach in for an entire evening in front of future colleagues! Ugh!

Swimming across a lake...

2006-08-13T21:58:00.000-07:00

What better way to begin a week of *Endurance* training than by swimming across a lake? I've never swum across a lake before... not even a pond! The 2006 Endurance Performance Training Center Summer training camp is being held for the second annual year in and around Donner Lake. The start of this year's training camp happened to coincide with the cross-Donner Lake swim - 2.7 miles, end to end! A fantastic way for a group of triathletes training for long distance triathlon to log some serious open water swim miles in a stunning fresh water mountain lake. Though it was quite a trip to begin a swim race by sighting on a mountain!

"Yesterday, I dared to struggle... today, I dare to win."

2006-07-20T12:19:00.000-07:00

Floyd's Big Day Out
That quote from Bernadette Devlin is a fairly accurate summary of the courage and tenacity displayed by Floyd Landis today at the Tour de France, as he reversed almost all of the 8 minute deficit with which he started the day. Those 8 minutes were the result of his inexplicable collapse on the ascent to La Toussuire at the end of yesterday's 16th stage.

The French sports newspaper, L'equipe, has criticized Floyd for his lack of panache. Is this the panache that les francais wanted to see? Floyd's response: "Panache that!"

It takes so much character for a guy to come back from something like yesterday's fringale. Today's stage will go down as one of the greatest performances in the history of the Tour. This Tour underscores the trials and tribulations of actually being human. You see Pereiro go from a disastrous day in the Pyrenees... losing almost half-an-hour, gaining it back with a big break - some say a tactical mistake - and perhaps losing it again in the final time trial to a guy who lost 10 minutes one day and then fights back with an amazing 150-kilometer solo ride the next! As my team-mate, Mack, would say, "that's bike racin'". You cannot script a better Tour. To borrow from Paul Sherwen: “This is panache, this is banging your fist on the table and saying I am the strong man, I will win the Tour”

Quote of the day - In response to a journalist's question of whether he expects to win Saturday's individual time-trial, Landis joked: "It wouldn't be any fun if I told you what was going to happen next!" .

My final thought, from les vallees of desperation to les cols of self-belief, this was an inspiring ride!

Alpe d'Huez

2006-07-18T21:17:00.000-07:00

Today's Tour de France stage, ending atop Alpe d'Huez, was stellar... I watched it three times... a review from Michael Fee below!
***********
I'm certain you'll agree that there was much for a cycling fan to love about today's stage.
Start with the baseline: we got to follow our riders' progress up the spectacular switchbacks of Alpe d'Huez. With a backdrop like the surrounding Alps buoying my mood, I could enjoy watching overweight men riding tricycles up those switchbacks -- let alone the world's top cyclists.

Then go to the results: Frank Schleck, a rider from one of the Low Countries, reached the top of cycling's most famed ascent ahead of renowned climber Damiano Cunego. Winning on behalf of tiny Luxembourg and downtrodden Team CSC, Schleck gave his backers a victory to be proud of. (Which makes me think: every Olympiad, someone calculates the number of medals won per capita, or per dollar of GDP, to show that, say, New Zealand winning five medals is a bigger deal than the U.S. winning thirty. I say that for this Tour, we figure out which country won the most stages per acre of land mass; unless San Marino or Andorra has a rider in there somewhere, I'm guessing Luxembourg's win is safe). Frank Schleck on the podium
Plus we got to see Floyd Landis don the Maillot Jaune for the second time -- and I'm guessing he won't relinquish it quite so easily this time.
But even more than wistfully gazing at those famed 21 switchbacks, or fist-pumpingly cheering on Schleck and Landis, I loved following today's team tactics. During the Era of Lance, we came to believe that "tactics" meant sending your incredibly strong climbers to the front of the peloton, methodically watching for any potential breaks and launching your superstar somewhere on the final climb. You ignored the other jersey competitions, and you rarely went for stage wins. It was a simple strategy, and it was the right one for USPS/Discovery and Armstrong. But with the Maillot Jaune competition wide open -- not to mention the climbers' contest as well -- and without a dominant rider or team, the squads have become far more resourceful.
Excuse for another Zabriskie photo! That's why we saw Zabriskie and Voigt hammering not just up the Col du Lautaret, but daringly down the wet roads on the backside as well, all to put teammate Schleck at the foot of the Alpe with enough time to outdistance the GC contenders....
And why Axel Merckx first got himself into the break, and then, upon being dropped, drifted back to fellow Phonaker Landis, to whom he offered a water bottle and then a slipstream-tow for a welcome couple kilometers....And why Michael Rasmussen, seemingly spent, bridged up to a suffering Denis Menchov, doing everything he could to restore him to the ranks of his Yellow Jersey rivals. It's one of my favorite elements of bicycle racing: that out of such a simple contest -- be the first to the finish line -- you can squeeze intricate tactics. (My other favorite part of all of this is imagining Rasmussen's director's screaming into his earpiece; I wonder what "Make like a real climber and get your bony orange ass up to Menchov now!" sounds like in Dutch?

Oscar Pereiro with two Aussies, Michael Rogers and Cadel Evans, in tow
But the best piece of today was the sheer determination with which so many of the riders raced. Whether it was Menchov twisting himself around his bicycle in a futile attempt to stay with Landis, or de la Fuente going never-say-die after every possible polka-dot point, or Pereiro riding like a real grimpeur, spurred on by the Yellow Jersey on his back; or Schleck himself, gritting his teeth through the final kilometers and then collapsing in a tearful heap on the steps of his team's bus -- each one of these guys and many others "reached deep into his suitcase of courage" and gave us a stage to remember.

cycling distractions and hand update...

2006-07-16T14:11:00.000-07:00

I had surgery on the hand two weeks ago and it's becoming much more useable... the range of motion remains constricted (swelling persists) but my dexterity improves each day. I'm ready to get back on the bike and rode with Tommy for a couple of hours today... but I've developed an awful head cold so it was a pretty bad ride... I'll be taking it very easy for a few days!

Thankfully, I have some televisual distractions to entertain me while camping out on my bed. July means that it's Tour de France time. If I thought I was a tad obsessed during the Giro d'Italia in May, I've now taken it to the next level for the 2006 edition of the Tour de France. I tend to watch the morning and evening viewings on OLN, read articles, race commentary and interviews as well as watch videos on every cycling website that I am aware of! I also manage to get insensed at the incompetence of some of the OLN commentators... while Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen have some wonderful, colorful descriptions and vernacular... Phil is losing his ability to recognize and correctly name a rider in the peloton, and Paul just doesn't have the heart to correct him! As for Bob Roll and Al Trautwig... the former has such a narrow and superficial grasp of race strategy that even Al's insistent attempts to *get to the bottom of what is going on in the race* do not enlighten the audience.

Floyd in yellow
Let me expand on this point and use the example of "Phonak giving up the yellow jersey" to Oscar Pereiro by way of exposition of my superior knowledge of Tour history and race strategy ;-)

Bob Roll keeps referring to the fact that Oscar Pereiro finished 10th on GC at last year's Tour as evidence that Oscar is too dangerous a rider to be given back the 30mins he lost on the stage. What Bob fails to remember and point out to the OLN audience is that the composition of Oscar's time gains and losses in the 2005 Tour are similar to what he is experiencing this year... he gained (or rather was awarded) time on stages where he was in breakaways - the mountain stage where he was beaten at the line by George Hincapie and the stage he won after being led out by Cadel Evans who was racing for GC time. In the 2005 Tour Oscar did not ride with the cycling heads of state GC contenders in the big mountains and he lost a decent amount of time in the time-trials. He's strong but he has never shown himself to be a GC rider.

I'm also adding a couple of great pictures that I've come across while perusing all those cycling websites! George Hincapie sporting the sunglasses that make him one of the most recognizable riders in the peloton... not that Phil Liggett seems able to recognize any rider these days. I also like Floyd's shades too... see above!

I also had to include a picture of Dave Zabriskie and this TT pic was the best I could find... unfortunately that TT did not go so well for Dave Z!

Life as a one-handed southpaw

2006-06-22T18:03:00.000-07:00

Here are some observations from my first few days as a single-handed southpaw:

Things that are close to impossible using only my left hand:

1. Tying back my hair
2. Opening a bottle of wine (a corked bottle – not a screwtop)
3. Cutting steak
4. Taking notes quickly during a phone interview
5. Opening a boxed vase of flowers ;-)

Things that are easier (surprisingly) than I would have thought with only my non-dominant hand

1. Eating sushi with chopsticks (at least no one has to cut anything for me!)
2. Writing legibly… not fast enough to take notes though
3. Shaving my legs (less cuts than usual… go figure)
4. Opening jars and bottles… though the insides of my knees are getting bruised from being used to grips things
5. Changing the side of the bed that I sleep on in order to prop up my broken wing… (okay, this is not dexterity related but it’s a big deal… side of the bed can be a relationship dealbreaker!)

spiral fracture of the 4th metacarpal in my right hand

2006-06-20T19:02:00.000-07:00

yup... i broke my hand while riding, well, falling from my bike yesterday. sux, but could have been worse, i guess. i see the hand surgeon manana and will know more thereafter. hopefully i can run and ride my bike?

Guy Q

2006-06-08T22:31:00.000-07:00

This month’s “Men’s Fitness” magazine has an article, a questionnaire really, called “Guy Q”. According to the magazine a guy can have “the looks, the body, the moves, and the style – but if [he] doesn’t have the right Guy Q, the rest won’t matter”. But what is *Guy Q*? Apparently, it’s the thing a guy has that “makes a girl feel like a girl”. It’s the sense that “guys can protect and defend women, even when they don’t really need it”, which is why it is so desirable. The task-oriented questionnaire includes things such as installing a ceiling fan, slapping together a bedroom set from Ikea, catching a baseball in a mitt. Hardly life-saving… but decidedly masculine. Below are a few more of my favorites from the *quiz*:

- Remove a cork from a wine bottle in one piece, without getting chunks in the bottle (or just pushing the damn thing in).
- Drive a stick shift as well as an automatic – and lay rubber at will.
- Get your girl a drink in a crowded bar – in less than 5 minutes.
- Perform at least three pull-ups without your arms shaking.
- Um, spell – words like their and there or you’re and your do not serve the same purpose.
- Perform a basic slow dance (nothing too fancy – you just need to blend in with the other dancers on the floor).
- Split wood with an ax.
- Parallel park on a busy street on the first try.
- Play poker well enough to consistently win money.
- Open a beer bottle without an opener.

It also got me thinking about what the equivalent “Gal Q” questionnaire would look like. Nothing immediately leapt to mind. Well, a few things did come to mind (e.g. perform a blow job on demand) but they seemed to betray the tone of the article. I thought a little more and got a few more suggestions from Jen and Halee. It's actually kind of scary that I don't know the "little things a woman does that make her a woman" and that "make a man feel like a man." Maybe that's part of my problem!

- Tying her man's tie.
- Wear heels through impossible-looking terrain.
- Pick perfect birthday and holiday presents for her own family *and* your family.
- Clinch a dinner reservation at the hottest new restaurant.
- Prepare a delicious meal… and clean the kitchen while doing so.
- Iron a dress shirt in less than two minutes.
- Remember birthdays and other important dates, seemingly without effort.
- Arrange flowers tastefully in a vase and keep them alive for more than a day.
- Get red wine (or beer) stains out of your man’s favorite shirt.
- Soothe a crying baby, even if it’s not hers.

Btw, I scored 36/65 in the Guy Q questionnaire – good enough to sneak me into the “pass muster – barely” category. To be honest, I’m not sure than many of my San Francisco guy friends would score much better than me on this test… if they complete the test honestly, hand on heart! I know that I’d rather date the guy that is impressed that I can change a tire, set up a home theater system, swim (and not like a dog)… even though I’d probably let him do it. Haha. Let’s face it, as old-fashioned as it sounds, the guys that *provide, fix and participate in a variety of sporting events* are incredibly attractive.

racing... why do i do this?

2006-06-06T22:15:00.000-07:00

it seems trite for me to write much about my honu half-ironman race while a friend and training buddy is fighting for his life in a honolulu hospital... it's been a weird few days.

the water was really choppy and the sun position made for some difficult sighting... even the pros got off track allowing my coach, chris hauth, to be second out of the water. okay, he's an olympic swimmer but he's a self-confessed drafting whore in the swim so he's rarely out of the water among the first two or three. my swim time sucked. 38min and change... 2mins slower than last year! grrr...

the bike started pretty well. i soon caught and passed one of my training buddies but the climb to hawi seemed slow-going. however, it was not nearly as hot as last year. we even rode through a small rain shower. right before the turnaround i saw a guy, spread-eagled on the ground. a volunteer was attending to him so i continued on my way and was psyched to have a little recovery on the return to the Mauna Lani. about 5mi from the hotel, i passed a couple of girls in my AG... i wondered if i had reached the *pointy end* of my AG race? but i had no real clue what position i was in. as i turned into mauna lani drive i was disappointed to see 2:4X on my SRM. i was hoping for 2:3X. oh well. time to run.

mile 1 of the run is uphill and it felt less than great but i soon found my feet, running 8-8:10min/mi. i felt reasonable, taking the course a mile at a time, and thankful that it was not as hot as the prior year. the course is very undulating with varied terrain, sand, grass, concrete and tarmac but the multitude of out and back sections do allow you to get a sense for placing... alas, my *sense* was that i was in no better than 4th place or so in my age group. a trip to the bathroom at mile 9 allowed about three girls to pass me (too much coke?) but i did recatch one girl and crossed the line in 5:19 and 6th place in my age group. no kona slot for me! damn w35-39 age-group. i'd have qualified in w30-34... c'est la vie.
Katie & Sandy on the W30-34 podium

however, the post-race situation quickly diverted my attention away from the race. a close friend and training partner, dirk, had suffered some sort of brain hemorrhage during the race. that's *the guy* that i had seen on the side of the road. ugh! he was transported by helicopter to a neuro ICU at Queen's hospital in Honolulu... any disappointment i might have felt about the race quickly evaporated as i helped friends pack and travel to be by his side. currently his condition is improving but he's still in critical condition. life is fragile. dirk's as healthy as can be... but a congenital brain condition does not care how much you exercise or how healthy you are at mealtime... life is not fair.

honu - hawaiian for turtle

2006-05-31T10:22:00.000-07:00

This morning was another swim… and yet more turtles! The ocean was flat and the water was even more crystal clear than yesterday… which for most people would present excellent conditions for snorkeling and checking out the fish and ocean life… but for the four dorky triathletes (me + 3 boys), the clear ocean blue-green waters translated to perfect draft positioning and sighting practice! So, I put my head down and swam hard for 20 or so minutes, but then I backed off to *smell the proverbial roses* on the way back to shore and spied a turtle or two, a ray and a bounty of colorful fish.

Then I threw on my sneakers for a 6mi hard run… as you can imagine it’s hoT here and while I get used to it while riding/running… when I stop it takes me forEVer to cool down! I was still sweating (sorry, perspiring) while taking a cold (outdoor) shower.

I could just about see the outline of Mauna Kea through the morning sunshine haze… but no snow. It’s summertime and I don’t think there’s any snow up there right now… but I could be wrong. The Big Island and the Four Season is quite the home away from home for the monied class of SF ;-^) For a self-professed mountain chick that does not care much for sun, sand and beaches, I’ve been to Hawaii far too many times in recent years… of course, with the exception of a spring break trip to Kauai, each trip has been triathlon related, so I’ve hardly sat on the beach and drank mai-tais all day… just at sunset! Though, I’m slowly getting accustomed to the lazy days… perhaps that’s my age catching up with me ;-)

Hualalai

2006-05-30T11:37:00.000-07:00

Well, Hawaii is relaxing... I have no agenda for the week – nada - except the odd swim (which was more like turtle-viewing this morning), bike and run to keep me *limber* pre-race. Mark’s house is ridiculously nice. The layout, design and architecture of the house is thoughtful and luxurious without being ostentatious - very accommodating… I appreciate the designer’s taste… I think a lot of the design pieces were brought in from Bali (‘cause Indonesia is so close to Hawaii, eh?) – but it’s subtle and calming, and incorporates the outdoors. I can just imagine the architect’s design notes: “a seamless transition from the interior to the traditional lanai allows the cooling breeze and fresh Hawaiian air to permeate your surroundings and draw your attention towards the conjoined hot-tub and infinity pool and beyond to the pacific ocean…”

Yeah, it’s not so shabby here. I have my own (‘til Sandy arrives on Wednesday) little guest complex with a 2 shower bathroom… and I’m not talking a double-headed shower (though that would be a nice touch). No, I have two showers for myself - one indoor and the other one is outdoors in my own little, private walled garden ;-) and on the other side of my *complex* is my own, semi-private lanai, where I’m currently sitting, reading and emailing (wireless network, d’oh!). I remember the days where there was crappy cell reception and my blackberry didn’t work on the Big Island.

Team Pacific Bicycle Photo Shoot

2006-05-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

giro d'italia fanaticism

2006-05-19T22:40:00.000-07:00

why do i love watching cycling? there's a lot of downtime, repetition, hum-drumness to the sport... i sit, watch in eager anticipation of an unexpected or even predictable attack? i even watched the highlights of yesterday's TT? who does that? there's no action in the TT? what am i trying to find? contrast der kaiser's cadence with basso's? gain some insight into how deep they are digging?

i *invoked* images of my cycling heroes while riding my hill repeats yesterday. ouch! the hill repeats hurt. while doing them i recalled zabriskie's description of time-trialling as "scraping the bottom of the [pain] barrel as quickly as possible and staying there". i also thought of ullrich pushing his big gears at 32mph in the giro TT and how hard he was probably working. i also told myself that this [the pain] is for honu. i'm excited and scared for the race. two more weeks!

i rode ~70mi and ran 3mi today. i thought that i'd be weak after yesterday's LT intervals. i did not feel great, but i was riding pretty strong. it reminded me even more of the sensations i felt at the wildflower race... the fitness is there (tapered or not), it just does not feel easy. i also realized that i like the *fitness feeling of having extra gears*... that is, after a winter of nurturing my diesel engine, the intensity training is adding a little extra torque to my fitness. okay, that's probably a mechanically incorrect auto analogy!

well, back to the giro... needless to say i'm psyched for the last week of the giro. wednesday's "plan de corones" stage should be epic. i've been wearing my white team csc hat all week. what a dork!

Taper Interrupted

2006-05-10T14:11:00.000-07:00

Wildflower Long Course Triathlon '06
I finished 5th (AGAIN - 3rd year in a row) in my AG and recorded a personal best by a mere 35 seconds... what's that? A couple of hundred yards?

Most coaches recommend a 3-10 day taper for an event as long as a half-ironman. Since this was not a key race, my coach recommended that I go into the race completely untapered... I did not skip a single workout, hard session in the week prior to the race.

How did this change my race?
I don’t think the hard Thursday bike intervals or easy run on Friday hurt my bike power but it made me feel like I was “working” the entire way. The non-taper probably impacted my run performance the most… my legs never quite got going, even during my favorite section from mile 7-10, which is net downhill and I usually feel like I’m flying. I was about a minute slower on the run compared to last year. I got off the bike in second place and was passed in the first 4 miles by two women in my AG and by a third woman in the last, downhill mile… there was no way (recovery purposes) that I was going to hammer down that last hill!

The non-taper thing is interesting and Chris and I discussed several things. He thinks the body acts weirdly when you give it rest so the “Taper Interrupted” strategy can still lead to an effective race result.

A couple of other things happened in the race that struck me as interesting. I passed the *ultimate* winner of my AG at mile 37 or so on the bike. I went by like a freight train, a very clean pass… but she jumped on my wheel and followed me back to T2. Basically, I paced her back. She was not drafting. She then proceeded to run very solidly so she deserved the win. Kudos for her running skills.

The other pacing thing came up with a team-mate. Laura Lyster (F20-24) went off several waves ahead of me. I caught her at mile 28 or so and she told me afterwards that my going by was a *wake-up call* and after I passed she tried to hold my wheel for as long as she could. It helped her to a sub 3 hour bike split.

Things I don't like to do

2006-05-03T15:02:00.000-07:00

I am organized, timely (too timely for my friends' liking ;-)), disciplined, independent, highly-motivated and generally have an upbeat, positive demeanor. However, there are a few things in life that I will procrastinate about until the last possible moment or change *my* plans to avoid something. You might assume that a list of things I don't like to do might wind up being a list of chores - don't get me wrong, household and other chores figure prominently - but my list also includes things that I like to do! Does that make sense?

10. I don't like going to the movies on my own... even if I really want to see a movie and no one else does, chances are that I won't go.
9. Cleaning my bathroom... who does?
8. Riding my bike across the Golden Gate Bridge - the views are stunning, but the wind, the tourists and other cyclists are too unpredictable for my liking
7. Getting a bikini wax. This is a chick *necessary evil*. It's the weirdest personal service out there. Not much talking, weird positions, embarassment... need I say more?
6. Cleaning my bike - it's real pretty and all, and deserves to be squeaky clean but...
5. Going on blind dates. They are 100% of the time a disaster. I've never had a good one!
4. Vacuuming - I don't procrastinate on this, it's more a question of it not really occurring to me to vacuum on a regular basis
3. Getting a massage. These used to be relaxing treats... ironman training has rendered them painful necessities!
2. Starting a new book. I find it stressful to begin reading a new book... I fear that I will not be able to get involved with the topic or the characters. It's also a fear of failure... I don't like "not finishing a book"!
1. Swimming - I'm not very good and I get bored staring at the bottom of the pool.

idiosyncrasy

2006-04-25T20:00:00.000-07:00

id·i·o·syn·cra·sy ( id eo s ng kr se )
n. pl. id·i·o·syn·cra·sies
1. A structural or behavioral characteristic peculiar to an individual or group.
2. A physiological or temperamental peculiarity.
3. An unusual individual reaction to food or a drug.

A friend recently asked me what my “idiosyncrasies” are. Nothing sprung immediately to mind. At any point in time, I probably have a few “odd habits”, but are any of these behavioral characteristics? Besides, my habits morph over time, so is it truly an idiosyncrasy?

Definitions aside, I figured a daily or weekly log, might reveal certain behavioral patterns that I could, for the time being, label an idiosyncrasy. I’ve made a note over the last week of a few “things I do”.

Here goes:

1. I sleep on the right hand side of the bed (left if you’re looking from the foot of the bed!)
2. I eat a jar of almond butter a week – it tastes best smothered directly on a banana.
3. Practically the first thing I do when I get into my apartment is check my email.
4. I clip out my right cleat when stopped on my bike – I know that’s a Fred thing to do!
5. When purchasing bulk items (e.g. mixed nuts, yoghurt-covered almonds, raisins) at Wholefoods, I usually eat a couple of pieces before tying the bag.
6. I carry my purse on my left shoulder (unusual for a right-handed person).
7. I don’t cook.
8. My room-mate tells me that I run the dishwasher when it’s half-full.
9. I weigh myself every day.
10. I need a glass of water and lip balm by my bed at night.

Are any of these truly idiosyncrasies? If I were to repeat this exercise in a year’s time, how many items on the list would be different?

Fortitudine vincimus

2006-04-10T21:19:00.000-07:00

In the few days leading up to Ironman Arizona I read the book "Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage" by Alfred Lansing. The book recounts the astonishing tale of survival of Sir Ernest Shackleton and his 27 men for over a year in the ice-bound Antarctic seas after their ship "Endurance" was crushed in the South Atlantic's ice pack in January 1915.

Fortitudine vincimus - "By endurance, we conquer" - is the Shackleton family motto. The book turned out to be a thrilling, suspenseful read and remarkably apt and motivating ahead of an Ironman race!

The swim was a single loop in the temperate but brackish waters of Tempe town lake, a dammed river, in downtown Tempe. I chose an inside line and this route was, for the most part, collision-free. The swim to the turnaround passed quickly but the return trip seemed to be very slow-going. Was there a current? Was I tiring? I didn't take a mid-point split but I reached the swim exit steps after a mind-numbing 1:19.

The bike is usually my sanctuary in an Ironman. My favorite and strongest discipline... I don't mind suffering on two wheels! However, my bike preparation for IMAZ had not gone as well as I would have liked. I can't pinpoint the reason but it was some combination of a very wet winter in San Francisco, a bike crash in late February and a lot of mental distractions and missed workouts. I tried to put that out of mind on Sunday and attempted to push the watts I wanted to ride (rather than the watts my current training told me I should ride). So I hammered my way to a 5:23:16 bike split (10th fastest bike split of the day for all female pros/AG'ers) and I entered T2 in 4th place in my age-group.

But the race does not end in T2, there was still a 26.2mi footrace to be completed! I set off feeling less than stellar but the legs came around quickly and I was running 8:30/8:45 pace each mile. I was passed at mile 2 by a woman in my age-group but besides her and being lapped by Michael Lovato, Spencer Smith and Tim DeBoom (top 3 pro men), I spent most of my time navigating the *walkers* on the 3 lap run course. It was a sunny, hot day (92 degrees) in Tempe and the weather clearly took its toll on many people. I received many comments about my solid pace... but my overall time was swollen by my incredible slowness through aid stations. For the last few miles, I was running scared in the fear that the *runners* were catching me but I managed to hang on to my 5th place and finished the run in 4:12:52 for a total time of 11:06:10. An Ironman personal best.

The highlight of the day was probably a very cute, blonde cyclist (wearing a kit that looked like old Alessio gear?) who was spectating on the run course... I saw him at practically every turn... I thought/hoped he might have been following me :-)

The lowlight of the day was hearing about my team-mate, Sandy Liaw's, crash on the bike. She collided with a cyclist on the Beeline Highway turnaround (mile 56mi) and cut her face badly. She still completed the bike and ran 6miles before being persuaded to stop. She'll be back. Studette.

Hawaii-Five-O... Unfortunately, 5th place was not quite good enough for a Kona slot. There were just 4 slots. It's bittersweet... at least I don't have to race another Ironman in 2006... it hurt!

Penalty, ref!

2006-03-22T19:24:00.000-08:00

Football (a.k.a. soccer) is the national sport of England, my homeland, and receiving a penalty is usually a wonderful thing since the penalty kick taker has a great chance of scoring a goal, and unlike American sports, goals/points do not come easily in football!

In fact, USA Today ranked "saving a penalty kick" No. 9 on its Top Ten list of hardest things to do in sport! Penalty Kick
Though, once you read the rest of the "Top Ten", this source of information can be largely discredited ... c'mon, hitting a baseball is harder than the Tour de France? Ten Hardest Things in Sport. Perhaps I am biased because I run marathons and ride my bike ~10,000mi/year rather than hang out in batting cages. Also, after the Turin Winter Olympics, perhaps "landing a quad" should be downgraded?

Anyway, I bring up the topic of penalties since I received my first ever penalty in a triathlon this past weekend. It is not a positive thing... you are stopped mid-race while the referee marks a red slash on your race number and tells you that once back in T2 you will have to find the sin-bin and hang out there for 4 minutes before proceeding to rack your bike! Despite some notable recent examples of "how to receive a drafting penalty" (Nina Kraft and Natasha Badmann at Ironman Hawaii 2004 and 2005 respectively), I did not remain as cool as I should have done and spent far too much time and energy getting flustered and trying to protest that I was waiting for the guy to pull over so I could continue passing the field ahead of me... lessons learned - yell at the dude I'm trying to pass to pull over earlier and don't waste time contesting a penalty!

One other notable thing from the California 70.3 race:
At registration a young marine asked me my race number. I replied, "Number 2004". His reply: "that's the year I graduated high school". That's young!

Ready to race?

2006-03-08T16:16:00.000-08:00

I just spent a week in Southern California to watch the Tour of California and to do a little riding down in Ojai. While loitering around the start area before the beginning of Stage 7, I introduced myself and chatted with Fabian Wegmann of Team Gerolsteiner. In typical cycling groupie fashion, Fab became my latest crush... more because he squeezed me so darn tight for about 2 minutes while we were taking the picture above! Who knew that cyclists had upper body strength!

The training did not go well (partly because I crashed my bike on day 1) but watching the bike race got me psyched to start the race season in 2006. Since returning to San Francisco I've been working on my mental preparations for Ironman Arizona. I’ve been practicing the Haka and singing Ka Mate in the comfort of my bedroom (wall-to-wall mirrors) the last few nights. This will be my signature pre-race, energizing dance ritual to be performed prior to the gun going off at each race this year :-) It does need face paint, but I have not gone there yet.

I slap my hands against my thighs, puff out my chest, bend the knees, bend my hips, and then stamp my feet as hard as I can while chanting the following.

Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Tenei te tangata puhuru huru
Nan nei I tiki mai
Whakawhiti t era
A upa… ne! ka upa… ne!
A upane kaupane whiti te ra!
Hi!!

The curse of a Stanford MBA

2006-02-20T16:32:00.000-08:00

I keep being told that I'm over-qualified for jobs and roles that I would like to do... Grrr. A friend recently asked me if all my career choices consisted of roles where there was the constant pressure for upward mobility and continuous career progession. Isn't that what is expected of a Stanford MBA? Wouldn't I be bored if it was any other way? What if I got my kicks and stimuli from other aspects of my life... could I survive with a more humdrum job?

You know you're a 24 addict when... top ten reasons

2006-01-23T22:10:00.000-08:00

10. You refer to the bedroom as "Division" and the bathroom as “District”.
9. When ordering pizza and they give you the delivery time, you scream back "Dammit, that's not enough time, I'll have to do it myself!"
8. Every call you get at home, you let the caller know you are putting them on speaker phone.
7. You tell the guy fixing the copy machine in your office to “do a manual reboot of Hub 5” when he is done.
6. Schematics is now a word you use everyday.
5. While adjusting the thermostat in your apartment, you wonder if someone is in possession of the override.
4. You become the self-proclaimed “Acting Director of Field Ops” in your office.
3. While on the phone with Allstate Insurance, you pray that the operator says “Please hold for President Palmer.”
2. When caught helping yourself to your assistant’s secret stash of candy, you request a “Presidential pardon in exchange for Marwan’s location.”
1. When given a project at work that you don’t want to do… you tell your boss: “I’m not doing it. I’m not CTU.”

My life. My card.

2006-01-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

American Express is running ads that ask *celebrities* to complete the following questionnaire... for giggles, here are my *10 second responses*...

My name... JC
childhood ambition... British diplomat
fondest memory... travel has provided too many memories/tales to list
soundtrack... cleats clipping into bicycle pedals
retreat... riding my bike along Hwy 1
wildest dream... to sit down at a piano and play/sing!
proudest moment... graduating from Stanford
biggest challenge... writing my own obituary
alarm clock... Mack/Tommy texting me before a dawn patrol ride!
perfect day... running on Mount Tam followed by brunch at the Dipsea Cafe
first job... picking potatoes
indulgence... Haagen Dazs dulece de leche and choc peanut butter ice cream
last purchase... baby shower gifts
favorite movie... Shawshank Redemption, Top Gun
inspiration... my friends - they all push and challenge me in different ways

My life... is hard to encapsulate in a single phrase
My card... Visa... oops!

Happy New Year

2006-01-03T21:35:00.000-08:00

On New Year's Eve I did an awesome 1:45 run on Mount Tam, with Chris Hauth and about 8 others. We started ~ 10am, the morning after a huge storm - though the weather was still stormy, we had some rain breaks and the trails were fairly sheltered from the wind. We ran Matt Davis trail from Mountain Home Inn to Pantoll ranger station, then Dipsea trail to Steep Ravine trail. We traversed overflowing streams, rivers, clambored over felled trees and even negotiated a landslide. Epic! Combination of fun and insane. A couple of times we had to stop and help one another crawl up and over landslides where the trail was completely eroded. The New Year's Day plan was 100mi ride to Pt. Reyes lighthouse... but after 20miles of riding I was chilled to the bone and soaking wet. Mike and I had ridden from Tam High to Nicasio, through the mud-slicked streets of San Anselmo which had been closed to traffic due to flooding. The Northern California storms were the #1 news story of January 1, 2006!

Here's a view of the bike path in Marin... Tymoff, that guy rides on water!

Drext and Drail?

2005-12-27T07:38:00.000-08:00

I’ve come up with some new words for my bad habits…

drext (drekst)

v, n : abbreviation of drunk text

1.A system for sending and receiving messages electronically over a cell phone, after imbibing substantial quantities of liquor.
2. A message or messages sent or received by such a system.
See also drail

drail (drail)

v, n : abbreviation of drunk email

1. A system for sending and receiving messages electronically over a computer network, after imbibing substantial quantities of liquor.
2. A message or messages sent or received by such a system.

I got wonderful feedback from Morgan... friends don't let friends drunk dial, text or email!

He just doesn't bug me

2005-12-17T17:09:00.000-08:00

An acquaintance recently asked me what my deal-breakers are for a guy that I would date. Strange that I've made it to the ripe age of 34 and never once considered writing out a list of what the deal-breakers might be. I don't even know what my *must-haves* and *nice-to-haves* would be?

It got me to thinking if I do have any specific must-haves... or deal-breakers, for that matter. The latter is easier than the former. Also, perhaps it's my lack of depth, but when I consider what the character traits of the ideal guy might be... I seem to get stuck on superficial characteristics.

Must-have: >5'10", self-confident, college graduate, athlete, ambitious, brainiac, good kisser, holds his date's hand

Nice-to-have: Ivy league college graduate, blonde, >6'2", loves kids, well-travelled, american, shaves his legs, good grammar

Deal-breakers: G.U. (geographically undesirable), arrogant, married, smoker, parties past midnight frequently

Pretty superficial, huh? In fact, half of the list above is just a label for something deeper... which of course, I won't let myself voice?!?!? Naturally, I'm not at all convinced that this is my list... college graduate is a social mnemonic for rigorous thinking or strong work ethic. Shaves legs clearly marks the dude out as a cyclist ;-)

This personal insight is probably what keeps me away from online dating sites such as match.com. Despite the creative, truthful blurb that each guy writes, I read an online profile and boil down that guy into a series of superficialities and labels so I can pigeon-hole him into a comprehensible *box* in my mind. Ironically, in person I'm attracted to the guys that I can't *pigeon-hole*, guys that possess a set of juxta-posing traits that I can't nail down but which makes them all the more irresistible!

Upon further thought I remembered a quote from a friend of a friend that was recently married. When asked why she thought that this guy was *the one*, her response was: "he just doesn't bug me". Is that enough of a reason to marry someone? A lot of guys that I've dated in the past have bugged me for one reason or another...? Is she on to something?

Over Thanksgiving, I hung out with a guy for 4 straight days... and he didn't bug me for a second. I didn't even question any choices he made, things he did, we just hung out and had fun. Yeah, 4 days is not a long time for someone you barely know. It's all very new and exciting. I brought up the topic with a girlfriend and she quoted her *must-have* as a "guy that wants to be with me" and then suggested I download Nikka Costa's song, "I gotta know".

The achingly-sung chorus lyrics are as follows: "Because I've been so strong for so long, never needed anyone but my strength is wearing out my heart, so I'm letting my guard down because I feel like I finally found somebody... that I gotta know"

It couldn't be further from how I behave in relationships. I let my guard down and get hurt every time! I clearly need to come up with a better "screen" for relationship material than "he just doesn't bug me". Where should I set the bar? This will continue to be a work in progress...

Halee emailed me this quote the day after I wrote the above blog: "Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for the guy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in your sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends. Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you. Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, "...that's her."

Learning new tricks… Poker?

2005-12-15T11:10:00.000-08:00

My elder sister, Janet, has teased me for a long time about my academic approach to learning. Pretty much from the time I could read, if I decided I wanted to master a new skill, I’d run out and buy the book, read and absorb as much information as I possibly could about the topic. Only when I felt comfortable that I could put the *aforementioned* skill into practice would I head out into the wide world and apply the information I had soaked up. Did not matter what the skill was. Sailing, downhill skiing, swimming, I’d buy the book… and the most recent new trick, Texas Hold ‘Em Poker. Thanks Phil Helmuth!

Perhaps this *learning mechanism* stems from the embarrassment I think I would feel to attempt something about which I am totally ignorant. They say a little knowledge is dangerous, but to me, zero knowledge might as well be suicide. I guess my attitude is that if I can at least *talk the talk*… perhaps I can then *walk the walk*? And, speaking of *talk the talk*, Poker has a fine lexicon that I am gradually mastering... stealing blinds, short stack, pocket nines, bluff, all-in, river card, heads up, buy-in, limp, play tight (or loose), off-suit, overcard...

I learned the basics of Texas Hold ‘Em Poker watching a friend play in the casino and online over Thanksgiving. Since then I have read a book on the basic strategy of the game, watched a few Tivo’ed episodes of the World Series of Poker, downloaded online playing software, fronted some cash and to date have played two online tournaments.. and placed second both times, earning back ~5x my buy-in. I've even covered the cost of the book. Pretty nice, huh?

My 1920s Name

2005-12-02T14:16:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of random website's out there... here's the results of a site offering up "your name from the 1920s"

Your 1920's Name is:

Verda Esperanza

What's Your 1920's Name?

Thanksgiving 2005

2005-11-29T13:26:00.000-08:00

Email exchange with client

JC: Well, if you knew how I'd spent Thanksgiving, you'd probably credit me with being a true American. I had a turkey dinner last Thursday in a trailer park (Cardiff Beach State Park - Encinitas) playing poker, drinking Coors Lite, watching football and learning the names of Nascar drivers.

Client: Whoa. Coors Lite in a trailer park and learning the names of NASCAR drivers?? With that you’ve descended from “sophisticated English gentry”, flown past “true American” and inadvertently landed at “unabashed redneck”! Sorry, but those traditions just don’t carry the same allure as those of a Charles Dickens Christmas in England, or better yet a Monty Python Christmas (if there is such a thing).

“You can’t call yourself King just because some watery tart threw a sword at you!!”

Top ten job offers

2005-11-10T09:17:00.000-08:00

10. Outdoor adventure tour guide through Ecuador, Peru & Bolivia
9. Host of British sports trivia show "A question of sport"
8. Snow White in Columbia Pictures summer blockbuster movie - seven dwarfs to be played by Brad Pitt, Nick Lachey, Tom Cruise, Dave Matthews, Kiefer Sutherland, Lance Armstrong, Ryan Sutter
7. Official *esperanto* interpreter for European Union, Brussels
6. Wrench for Team CSC or Discovery Channel
5. Manchester United team masseuse
4. Body double for Julianne Moore
3. Lecturer in European history at Stanford
2. Assistant swim coach at UC Irvine
1. The next Bachelorette

Your Career Type: Conventional

You are orderly and good at following a set plan.
Your talents lie in working with written records and numbers in a systematic, orderly way.

You would make an excellent:

Bank Teller - Bookkeeper - Court Clerk
Mail Carrier - Post Office Clerk - Secretary
Timekeeper - Title Examiner - Typist

The worst career options for your are artistic careers, like comedian or dancer.

What's Your Ideal Career?

I didn't like the first answer so I did the career blogthing again, subtlely changing my answers...

Your Career Type: Realistic

You are practical and mechanical.
Your talents lie in working with tools, mechanical or electrical drawings, machines, or animals.

You would make an excellent:

Carpenter - Diesel Mechanic - Electrician
Farmer - Fire Fighter - Flight Engineer
Forester - Locksmith - Locomotive Engineer
Pilot - Police Officer - Truck Driver

The worst career options for your are social careers, like social worker or teacher.

What's Your Ideal Career?

Ride with Dave Zabriskie

2005-10-28T10:40:00.000-07:00

The Hawaiian Double

2005-10-24T09:44:00.000-07:00

What’s “the Hawaiian Double”? The Ironman Hawaii World Championships and the Xterra World Championships (off-road triathlon) take place on consecutive weekends in Kona, Big Island and Makena, Maui respectively. A friend, Brent, introduced me to the concept of “doing the double” sometime last year and ever since I qualified for the 2005 Ironman Hawaii, I was intrigued about doing the Xterra race as well. A few hours ago, myself and two friends, Sandy and Scott, just completed “the double”. For me, the double has been added to my life category of “things to do once… but which don’t need to be repeated!”

Ironman Hawaii 2005

Top ten memorable moments of Ironman Hawaii 2005

10. The inexorably slow 2.4 mile swim. 1 hour and 24 minutes of memories
9. Visiting the church at the run turnaround on Ali’i Drive the evening before the race
8. Sitting next to Kiki in T2… we might as well have been enjoying a glass of wine at Harry’s
7. The Hawaiian winds on the Kohala coast… they didn’t show up this year!
6. Celebrating Tyler and Frank’s wins… fastest female amateur and fastest CEO, respectively
5. My Elite bike… who knew it could travel at 20+ mph for 112 miles
4. Megan’s comment of “about time” when I passed her on the bike… and her smile and words of encouragement when she passed me back at mile 23 of the run
3. Celebrating Scott’s marriage proposal to Kiki over coffee and muffins at Lava Java post-race
2. The view of the (almost) full moon over the ocean the morning of the race.
1. Wondering whether I want to come back and do it all over again in 2006 or 2007 or beyond…

Xterra Maui 2005

Top ten memorable moments of Xterra Maui 2005

10. Eating and drinking myself 7lbs heavier in the week between the 2 races!
9. Swimming with turtles when I did a practice loop of the swim on Saturday
8. The 3-5ft swells that greeted us at the beach on race morning… a rough water swim!
7. A flat tire just half a mile out of T1… and a face full of slime when I changed it
6. My plunge into the red sand after I lost control of my bike in the deep sand ruts
5. The cute, 20something German guy (Fricke on his shorts) that I gave my tube and pump
4. Waiting for Fricke to catch up to me when I got my second flat… he had my pump!
3. My Trek bike and my average speed of 6mph… what a difference a week makes!
2. Mis-timing a wave during the beach run section and getting a shoe-full of ocean water
1. Knowing that I will never come back and do it all over again in 2006 or 2007 or beyond…

Total time – 4 hours 40 minutes
Swim – 0:30
Bike – 3:03
Run – 1:07

Above were the *atmospheric* race recaps… below is the *soup to nuts* version of Ironman Hawaii, if that wasn’t already enough. As for Xterra: “check”, that’s all I have to say.

Ironman Hawaii 2005

I was fortunate to spend the few days prior to Ironman Hawaii in Kona with friends and fellow racers in a condo, located several miles outside of town. While the goal was to relax and acclimate to the heat and humidity, the days prior to the race seemed action-packed with *small* workouts, previews of the course, race preparation errands and catching up with other friends that were racing. Time was evaporating and Saturday October 15th arrived all too quickly. Suddenly, it was 3:30am on Saturday morning and my alarm was beeping, signaling me to get up and eat breakfast. As I digested the 1,000 calorie meal, I studiously went through my *race morning* checklist, then loaded into the tiny jeep with coach Chris, his wife, Dixie and our driver for the morning and medical tent volunteer, Erica.

Once at the King Kamehameha hotel, I had about 90 minutes to attend to the *pre-race routine* of body-marking, sunscreen and bodyglide application, checking tire pressure, handing in my special needs bags, visiting the bathroom (multiple times), taking pictures with friends, and slowly getting nervous. Would the swim be choppy? Will the winds pick up on the bike ride? Just how hot and humid would it be during the run? I could control none of these things so I tried to push them to the back of my mind.

The professional athletes started at 6:45am and immediately afterwards I swam the 100 yards or so to the start line and treaded water with the hundreds of other athletes. Boom!!! In spite of the 10 second warning to 7am, the start canon took me by surprise. The water was suddenly awash with swimmers kicking and flapping their way to the turnaround yacht some 1.2 miles from the Kailua-Kona pier. It seemed to take forever to get to that little boat…when I finally reached the boat I refused to look at my watch, not wanting to be demoralized by the slowness of my swim. Instead, on each breath, I listened to the cheers of the crowds packed on the boat and smiled to myself that I was headed back to shore. The way back seemed to go more quickly. I followed a guy’s feet to shore and soon I was taking those first, unsteady steps, back on dry land. 1:24 was slower than my two prior races but not outside my expectations for the non-wetsuit Ironman Hawaii swim.

As I rolled my bike out of its rack, I heard Matt Dixon’s English accent yelling: “Go have fun out there, Jordan!” I love riding my bike, but could the next 112 miles be fun?!?!? On the plus side, few people who swim as slow as I do, can ride a bike as fast as I can… this translates to “passing hundreds of people on the bike… in fact, I passed more than 400 people”. Besides yelling ‘on yer left’, those 112 miles were fairly uneventful; I narrowly avoided the *spray* of a girl peeing on her bike, locating my special needs bag took more time than I would have liked but the infamous Kohala coast winds were non-existent. In contrast to the Half-Ironman I raced here in June, I was feeling great on the bike, riding easily at 200 watts or so and keeping my heart rate in a reasonable range. I was back in transition 5hrs 30mins after I left, having averaged over 20mph.

At T2, I joyously handed off my bike to Charlie (friend who was volunteering) in exchange for a kiss on the cheek and ran into the change tent only to sit down next to my friend and training partner, Kiki! Small world . We exchanged words of encouragement while *gently barking* orders at the change tent volunteers: “lots of sunscreen, please!”

On to the marathon… my legs felt a little wobbly and my stomach was even more wobbly but I heard several people cheer my name as I exited transition so I told myself that the 10 mile out and back along Ali’i Drive was just a *scenic warm-up run*. In contrast to the views, those first few miles were UGLY from a running and nutrition perspective. But by the 5mile turnaround, I had pulled myself together and was running pretty well, catching the people who had passed me (usually while I was in the porta-pottie) in those early miles. The skies were clear blue and the sun was burning down… hot, hot, HOT. I was grateful for the cups of ice and water being handed out at each aid station. In fact, my bra top became the repository for at least 5-6 ice cubes at each mile marker, as I struggled to keep my body as cool as possible. The solid run pace continued until mile 16 or so, when the stomach issues returned. The remaining 10 miles into the Energy Lab and back along the Queen K into town were a string of mile repeats, interrupted by trips to the porta-pottie. Not the best running scenario but at least I was getting closer to the finish. Well, almost… at one point, I ran backwards for several hundred yards because my stomach lurched and I needed the bathroom… who runs backwards in an ironman?!?!? Finally I returned to town and was on the last half mile of Ali’i Drive. I got a high-five from my coach, Chris Hauth (big thanks!), before entering the tunnel of cheering fans and bright lights of the finishing chute. The announcer called my name and confirmed: “Jordan Cantwell, you are an Ironman…” and then I mentally reminded myself that I was a “Hawaii Ironman”.

Thanks to my fellow competitors and all the friends and supporters in Hawaii… your cheers and smiles were appreciated. Also, a big thanks to those who *watched online*.

What's my Hawaiian name?

2005-10-07T14:27:00.000-07:00

Since I'm about to leave on a 2 week trip to Hawaii... I figured I should use this blogthing to figure out my Hawaiian name... and it will perhaps embue me with a different personality?

Your Hawaiian Name is:

Okelani Leilani

What's your Hawaiian Name?

SF Grand Prix 2005

2005-09-06T12:23:00.000-07:00

i had a pretty sweet day watching the san francisco grand prix on sunday. i pulled off the role of cycling groupie pretty well and had a fun day watching the race with friends. the lap in the team car was also pretty cool. i don't think i've ever been quite so scared driving the streets of san francisco. clark, the directeur sportif of team usa was trying to squeeze by numerous cars to get up to freddie rodriguez during the time i was in the car. it was pretty interesting to see how the race commissaires' control the race from the cars' perspective and tune into race radio!
photo by Ray Mina
and next month i'll be riding w/ dave zabriskie. a local physical therapy place, presidio sports medicine, is having a big expansion/opening event in late october and dave zabriskie will be the guest of honor and speaker. however, they are also doing a small group ride with him earlier in the day and since they know that i have a huge crush on him, i was invited along for the ride!
the weekend of training was pretty decent. two back to back long rides on friday-saturday. the second one went really well, especially considering it was 110mi in 85 degree heat w/ tons of climbing. now i'm doing more of a run focused week so it's all about a lot of boring running... this is when i shall miss my car since i basically have to start and end all my long runs at home, following fairly similar routes. plus work is a little busier this week w/ a few chunks of *responsibility*... limits my time!
photo by Ray Mina

Epic Camp Donner Lake '05

2005-08-20T13:55:00.000-07:00

Clas Bjorling, Kristy Gough, Wendy Ingraham, JC

Milah, Kylie and Willow

Honu Half-Ironman

2005-06-10T09:42:00.000-07:00

I think it was Steve Prefontaine that said "the person that wins is the one that has the most guts".. Not that I won anything this weekend (that honor goes to my coach, Chris Hauth, who won the race overall), or that I can even begin to compare myself to the legendary US track star, but that quote sprung to mind as this past Sunday's race will go down as my gutsiest race performance to date. And, unfortunately, I mean that very literally… Here are a few vignettes from the weekend.

Tuesday before the race was a really long day, taking the 6am flight from SFO to SNA for a daytrip to a client in Orange County. While waiting for the delayed last flight at OC airport, I chatted with a woman who turned out to live a few blocks from me in San Francisco.
"I can give you a ride back from the airport", I offered.
"That's great. I checked a couple of pieces of bags but they're not big", she replied.
I know my face fell at the thought of waiting at the luggage carousel for her bags rather than my usual sprint through the airport to my car but I wasn't going to revoke the offer. I got to bed at 1am, four hours later than my usual 9pm bedtime, but I figured that I'd stockpiled a little good karma for the week…

Friday was travel day and I awoke just prior to my 6am alarm. I immediately noticed the tenderness of my neck as I swallowed. I rose slowly from my bed and became aware of the *stuffiness* of my left nostril. "Ugh…I'm getting sick", I thought to myself, as I downed a double dose of Emergen-C, loaded up on echinacea and threw back a couple of Advil. Friend, training buddy and doctor, Kiki, offered me some email medical advice: "Take some Sudafed to help clear the congestion but stop taking it 24 hours before Sunday's race because the active ingredient, pseudoephedrine, acts like adrenalin and will *rev* your heart even more in extreme activity."

Race day and I was pacing our Hawaiian condo at 4:45am, ready to leave and make the 45 minute drive to the race start.
"Sandy, where are the car keys, I'm going to load my bike into the mini-van", I said. "I left them on the counter-top last night but they're not here."
"I don't know," Sandy called back, "I didn't touch them".
My personal prime suspects in "the case of the missing keys" were my condo-mates, Greg Spradling or Chris Hauth. I think guys are more prone to putting keys in their pockets and wandering off with them… call me sexist. A 15 minute *all hands on deck* search of the condo failed to turn up the missing keys. I was fuming inside and panicking that I would miss the race start but I kept my cool. Barely.

Halfway around the swim course I closed in on buoy number three:
"Boomph!"
"What the f&@#?"
I had sustained a kick to the head from some chick in pink. My left leg went numb and then began to cramp. I relaxed, flexed my ankle a few times, the cramp subsided and I resumed my swim rhythm. Sustaining a kick or two to the head no longer seems to bother me while swimming…

During the initial 10 miles of the bike leg along Big Island's "Queen K" highway, I traded places back and forth with a 59 year old woman as I desperately tried to find my rhythm.
"Okay, I think I'm mis-reading, if she passes me again I'll see that it really says 39 or perhaps 29…", I said to myself.
No, she passed me again, 59 was clearly *sharpie'd* on her right calf. You're still warming up, I said to encourage myself.

The congestion in my nose and chest was still there, as was the occasional cough, but in a race no-one really minds if you give a big *farmer blow* or spit, just as long as you check behind you beforehand. I know, it's not particulalry sanitary but there are worse things... At about mile 20 or so we reached the base of a steady 10 mile climb towards the town of Hawi. I'd been eating and drinking, per my race plan, but I had overwhelming feelings of nausea. "Hmmm, it must be the sun and 90 degree heat affecting me", I thought to myself, while projectiling vomit into the roadside brush. The rest of the climb I felt tremendously weak and I struggled to push 200 watts – I kept staring at my power meter in disbelief. I felt so weak. It didn't help that the entire climb was into a strong headwind (apparently light by island standards).

With 10 miles to go on the bike, the white Astro van of my *support crew* zipped by me. My team-mate Sandy and Chris' fiancée, Dixie, were all cheers and smiles, hanging out of the open van door, taking pictures. I just shook my head.
"Dig deeper", yelled Sandy.
"Stop the van! I want to get in," I called back. The van continued on. They didn't hear me…

Every triathlon I've raced has hinged on a great bike split…but I was riding abysmally and I felt like sh#t. I was beginning to get shivery goosebumps. A DNF seemed the sensible thing to do but as I contemplated the letters D-N-F (Did Not Finish) I recalled Hilary Biscay's words: "the only good reason to DNF is if you have a broken leg". Nothing broken. I made the final right hand turn into the Mauna Lani resort, the site of the bike-run transition, and checked my time. "Holy cow, I'm having a bad day but I've still ridden a 2:45 bike split. That's not quite as bad as I thought". I took a last sip of Gatorade, dismounted my bike and handed it off to a volunteer. I should do the run…maybe everyone else is having a bad day?

I grabbed my run gear but took my time putting my shoes on, still toying with the concept of DNF. I headed out of T2 and instantly recalled Chris' race advice to me: "Commit on mile 1. I don't want to hear that you felt sluggish for the first couple of miles of the run and then felt great by mile 7. Just go and get it from the start!"

"Where are the goddamn mile markers?", I said to myself after running for a good twenty minutes. At least the *out and back legs* of the run course on the Mauna Lani resort and golf course afforded me views of the competition. I quickly spied #720, probably about a mile ahead of me. I saw a lot of women ahead of me but #720 was the only person I recognized from my age-group.

As I hit the 10k mark I heard the announcer welcoming home the overall race winner, Chris Hauth. That news gave me a mental boost. I recalled his *fast feet* mantra and it encouraged me to pick up the pace.

I saw the 15k mark as I made a left turn into what I hoped was the last out and back…a long descent into a headwind. Running downhill has never been so hard! A guy came up to my right shoulder about to pass me and I immediately tucked in behind him, seeking to draft. Sweet! I followed for several hundred yards until I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach. Yikes…I need to go to the bathroom. NOW! I was at least half a mile from an aid station but I looked left and decided the Hawaiian brush would provide sufficient cover. A girl's gotta do…

I crossed the finish line in 5 hours 23 minutes and change. I felt awful, my guts were in knots and I was worried that I was about to start hyperventilating. I was miserable and disappointed with the day. On the way back from my third post-race porta pottie trip I spied Chris and went over and congratulated him on the win. Dixie sensed that I was not doing so well and gave me a big hug. I promptly burst into tears.

An hour or so after finishing, having changed into dry clothes and watched other friends cross the finish line I decided to stop by and check the results sheet. I figured I'd be lucky to have made top ten in my age-group. I found my name.
"Jordan Cantwell San Francisco CA 34 2/50 36:11 2:46…"
I only made it halfway across the line and had to stop. The "2/50" caught my eye. My heart started beating fast and I found myself repeating "oh my god" over and over again like some teenage drama queen. "I had taken second place in my age-group? No way! Did everyone else really fold?"
I scanned the results sheets and saw that #720 had placed first, well ahead of me time-wise, but no other 30-34 year olds had finished ahead of me. Yikes!

The awards ceremony took place late Sunday afternoon and our raucous San Francisco crew occupied three tables, front and center, ready to cheer along Chris for winning the overall title, Monique for winning her age-group and placing fourth among the women and for my age group second place. There was also the small matter of "Qualifying slots for the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon World Championships". As the age-group awards began, the MC announced that each female age-group would have one qualifying slot. For the Women's 30-34 age group I got up on stage to collect my turtle-shaped 2nd place trophy. #720 took her 1st place award and eagerly accepted the Hawaii slot. I was about to walk off stage.
"Wait a moment", the MC said. "I almost forgot. As the biggest age group, we have two Hawaii slots in W30-34. Jordan, do you want the slot?"
"Hell yes!", I said repeating #720's enthusiasm. I was excited but also deafened by Sandy's squeal and the cheers from the SF posse who rose from their seats! The awards ceremony only got better as my friends and training buddies, Scott Withoff and Dirk Vlieks also got Hawaii slots.

I'm still in shock that I qualified for Hawaii. I'll be the first to admit that it was far from my best race but I gutted it out and stayed in the race when the mental and physical cues were signaling me to quit. I had somehow imagined that qualifying for Hawaii would only happen if and when I executed the perfect race. How quaint and idealistic of me! Things never quite turn out how you expect.

Thanks to Chris Hauth for his coaching advice, support and friendship…and for *walking the walk*. Congratulations again on the overall win!
Thanks to Dixie, Sandy, Greg and Katie for their on-course support and cheers… and for not letting me in the van!
Thanks to everyone that swims, bikes and runs with me in the bay area. I can't begin to name you since I'll accidentally forget someone and then feel awful. You know who you are. As much as triathlon is an individual sport, swimming on someone's feet, following someone's wheel and running on someone's shoulder is invaluable.

Now I need to start training for Ironman Hawaii - October 15th 2005.
(again, for the non-triathletes - 2.4mi swim, 112mi bike and 26.2mi run)

Thanks,
Jordan

PS - On the way back to the car with Sandy, post-awards, my giddiness finally subsided and my pragmatic nature returned.
"I hope we can find the keys to the rental car. I can't imagine where they are. I turned my luggage inside out this morning."
Sandy looked at me sheepishly, digging into her backpack and pulling out the Ford Winstar keys: "Ooops. I guess I did take them last night after all."

Sex and The City, SF-style

2005-03-31T09:40:00.000-08:00

Monday March 28th - "The Bachelor pre-show party" preview
At a birthday party for thirtysomething Clorox exec, Jennifer, the girls convene to update one another on the many comings and goings of their *non-sex* lives. Stacey took the advice of dating guru to single women globally, Greg Cavallo, and we eagerly anticipate the results. Frustrated by the *miSS-timings* of recent crushes, Jeff and Tom, Sarah recently eschewed her demure public persona, accepting a high-profile lap dance from a young GSB'er at Marina standby, ESW. Jamie offers her style tips and cuisine advice to restaurant-challenged, Jen, who is seeking the perfect ambience to wow and entertain out-of-town boyfriend, Matt C. Jordan bemoans the six day lapse since her *hot* date with Rigney, finally acknowledging that 144 hours *time gap* is well outside all male, female, written and unwritten rules.

Arrested in Tiburon?!?

2005-03-12T09:34:00.000-08:00

So I made it back to the US today. 75 degrees and sunny in SF so I went on a brief run then accepted Pete's invite to ride Paradise loop. All was well, felt great, went through a light that was going from amber to red. A police car chased me down and *threw the book* at me. Running a stop sign (which I contested - he was having none of that!) And not carrying an ID (driver's license or passport). He was ready to cuff me and throw me into jail until Pete intervened to vouch on my behalf. What a welcome back! The cop finally warmed up and gave me a mere $250 ticket. Nice. Why is this my life?

Ironman NZ race recap

2005-03-07T09:33:00.000-08:00

Where to start?

First of all, thanks to everyone for their well wishes in advance of the race. It was really helpful to know that you were all supporting from afar and watching online.

Results? 11 hours 23 minutes.
7th in my age group, 21st overall woman and 305th of 1175 that started the race.

The swim course is a single loop that hugs the coastline for 1800m, has an 80m turnaround and then returns to shore. With just under 1200 starters, there were some crowds in the first 500m or so but it cleared out pretty quickly. Good and bad. No feet to kick me in the head but no feet to draft off easily. For some reason my goggles were taking in water so I think I stopped 6-7 times to adjust them. I felt like I was in the water forever, so I was pleasantly surprised to see 1:11 on my watch, several minutes faster than IMLP.

I walk-jogged the 500m to T1 which turned out to be a very crowded change tent. It was up to me to find a spot to disrobe the wetsuit and throw on my bike gear.

Then onto the bike - my favorite leg. The bike leg is two loops of flat, false flat and rolling terrain. The first loop was crowded with lots of back and forth with other athletes. I have a power meter on my bike so I just watched the watts, compared it to my heart rate and to how I felt and tried to block out what else was going on around me. First lap completed in 2:47 averaging 200 watts. By the second lap the *crowds* had thinned out dramatically. I rode the first lap conservatively and, feeling warmed up, the second lap was the time to pick up the pace or at least the effort level! The winds were steadily getting stronger as the morning wore on and that left the final 30k of the bike heading uphill into a headwind. I completed the second lap in 2:55 for a bike split of 5:42. However, I averaged 215 watts so the headwind certainly made its presence felt.

Back at T2 and the change tent was a completely different picture than T1. I had the place to myself! Four volunteers attending to my every need, applying sunscreen, putting on my cap etc. Then I headed out onto the run...or perhaps shuffle would be a better description of my run style at this point. I found no rhythm for the first 15k. I ate a gel, drank water, grabbed a handful of chips (salt) but nothing could get me moving. Then I decided to risk drinking a little coke.
I haven't trained with it but I drink at least a can of diet coke a day so I figured it couldn't hurt me. The coke turned out to be the endurance athlete's elixir. I was completely re-energized and stepped up the pace dramatically. Going from 6+ minutes per km to 5mins or so. Not world class marathon pace but it looked more like a run than a walk. I just wish the aid stations were closer together (every 2.5km) so I could have swigged down more of the stuff! I slowed towards the end of the marathon but by my clock I did manage to negative split the run and finish the marathon in 4:18.

That's pretty much my race story. The day was warm and sunny, the winds
were ever-present and the crowds were plentiful and highly supportive.

Afterwards, in the massage/food tent I was sitting next to Bjorn Anderssen, last year's 3rd place athlete. In my fatigued state I remarked: "how do you do this for a living?" To which he quickly retorted: "it's only a living if you win money." He'd had a tough time on the marathon but showed his guts to stick it out, walking to the finish line with fellow Swede and last year's 2nd place guy, Clas Bjorling, to hUGe applause from the crowds.

Kia Ora - Kiwi travel nightmares!

2005-02-28T09:25:00.000-08:00

I took Friday off work (except a breakfast meeting) so I could finish packing my bike and run through my laminated version of *ye olde triathlon pack list* at least twenty times. Super Shuttle arrived slightly early at 4:10pm (7:30pm flight) but I was all set to go so it was no big deal. The other passengers in the van were anxious about the voluminous Friday night traffic so I told the driver that I could be dropped off last. We pulled into the SFO international terminal at 5pm. Plenty of time. I joined the Air NZ line to check in and it was quickly my turn. I was asked for my ticket.
"Ticket? Isn't it an electronic ticket? I used United miles."
"Ma'am, you were mailed a ticket."
"Well, I did receive a receipt in the mail but then I changed the dates and I never received a new ticket."
"You need to go check with the United counter. Please do so and then come back to us".
Thankfully, she allowed me to leave my luggage. The United counter was close by and there were only two people ahead of me in line. It was now 5:20pm. Suddenly, a herd of folks rushed into the terminal, pushed to the front of the line and breathlessly squawked about the 6pm flight to Sydney. The two agents dropped everything they were doing for the customers in line and assisted the Aussies, ticketing and checking their baggage. At 5:35pm I moved to the front of the line, explaining my situation to the first agent.
"Ma,am, you need to pay taxes - $17.24."
Uh, oh I thought I'd paid taxes online but maybe it was a booking fee. No big deal. I handed over my credit card. The agent swiped the card, tapped at the keyboard and gave me a perplexed look. She asked for a phone number from her co-worker and dialled the united help desk. "The customer needs a paper ticket", was the helpline response. "The only other alternative is to buy another ticket". The agent called over her co-worker, explained the situation and he concurred with the helpline feedback. He also pointed out, somewhat unhelpfullly, that there were seats on the flight and I could buy a new ticket for five grand! Of course there are seats on the plane - there's my goddamn seat! "Ma,am I suggest you go home and get your receipt/ticket".
It was now 5:45pm. I went back to Air NZ and picked up my luggage and updated the Air NZ agent on the situation. Her parting words: "Be back here by 6:45pm". I hauled ass out of the terminal, which is less than 3 mph when you're dragging a bike box and a wheelie. No taxis in sight but there were a whole host of "shared vans". I yelled out San Francisco and a guy got out of his van and began to assist me. "I'm chartering you. We're going to Nob Hill and back and if we make it back by 6:45pm, I'll give you a huge tip". "Uh-oh, deal", he said. I jumped in and the clock in the van read 5:52pm.
The van lurched away from the terminal curbside as the driver yelled at me to buckle up and relax. My mind raced. I drive to and from SFO in 20mins all the time... just never at 6pm on a Friday. My driver (whose name I never asked - sorry!) did more weaving than you'd see at a basket-making convention. 70mph. Nice. Past the newly named Monster stadium. We were cruising. Then...my stomach sank as we came over the hill by Potrero Ave. We hit the wall of red lights...I knew it would be there but I'd been in denial. Bay Bridge traffic spilling over all five lanes. I moved to the
edge of my seat and anxiously wailed to the driver. "Honey, just sit back and let me do my th'ang", he cautioned. He yanked the wheel to the right as a handful of consternated commuters hit their horns hard. We exited onto Potrero and traffic was moving. We hit a few red lights but we were making more progress than on 101. We crossed Market and I saw 9th street. Great, a straight shot up to Larkin and then I'm back home. The door to the van was open and I was jumping to the sidewalk as we screeched to a stop in front of Sushi Rock. It was 6:17pm. The elevator in my building takes 50 seconds to reach the 3rd floor (why do I know that?) so I took the stairs, grabbing the rail and pulling myself up 3 steps at a time. I was back in the van w/ ticket in hand at 6:19pm. I was clearly anxious and my driver reiterated that I needed to stay calm, buckle up and sit back. We wove through downtown traffic, retracing our steps along Potrero and were back on 101 by 6:30pm. I was beginning to feel more confident and sensing this my driver started to ask me questions. Where I was going? Why? I spinned my triathlon yarn and the highlight of that conversation was that he guessed I was 26. Yay! Maybe, he was angling for an even biGGer tip. I pulled out a wad of 20s, explaining that I was giving him the fare plus 100% tip. Then I walked him through the plan for arrival at SFO. Yes, I'm at my A-type best in panic situations! I was going to run to the check-in desk and I was tasking him to follow me with the bike box and wheelie. We hit the airport off-ramp at 6:40pm and I was back in line at 6:41pm. I triumphantly waved my ticket at the same Air NZ agent, whooping with delight that I'd made it. The driver followed, dragging my luggage behind.
"You are late. The flight is already boarding," 'tsked the gate agent. "Your luggage may not make the flight. You also have to get through security". I scanned the terminal which was practically empty, I couldn't begin to conceive that security was going to be more than a 5 minute chore. I prosecuted my case, saying that I'd go straight through security and sprint to the plane. The agent reluctantly took my passport and ticket, while calling over a baggage handler to *express* the lugagge in the direction of Air NZ 007. I hugged the newly enriched van driver goodbye and
told him that I was fine and that I was getting on the plane. I breezed through security, sped-walked to gate 96 only to join the 300+ passengers lining up to board the 747. I had soooo made it! I settled into seat 26K, separated by a seat from a very pleasant woman called Nancy who turned out to be Chris Lieto's next door neighbor, knew nothing about triathlon but gave me a supply of "energen-c" for my trip. Random.

Anyway, *kia ora" is welcome in Maori. I arrived and it's 7:30am and the rental car place does not open until 8am...bummer. So I'm sitting here with a cup of coffee w/ skim milk, otherwise known as a "flat white".

10 reasons a morning ride is so rewarding

2005-02-02T09:04:00.000-08:00

1. I only need to wash my hair once a day (unless of course I'm running/swimming in the evening - life of a would-be triathlete)
2. I can make a date in the evening without compromising my training schedule
3. The thrill I get every time I ride across the Golden Gate bridge because it's a different color every time
4. The chance that the sunrise might be stunning, or at least pretty good
5. Prime-time wildlife viewing
6. Morning dew
7. No guilt when I scoff down my usual fruit, yoghurt as well as a toasted bagel plus a large chai latte for breakfast
8. Bragging rights at the office (after I've snuck in at 9:15am, hoping no-one noticed my tardiness)
9. Climbing off my bike at the front door, steaming and heroic. Fingers and toes are cold but the shower awaits...
10. Seeing myself as hardcore in other people's eyes
It's better than dragging your bum to the pool for a morning swim! ;-)

Eventful morning ride

2005-01-06T16:57:00.000-08:00

pete and i did a recovery ride around paradise this morning... recovery has a double-entendre since i was nursing a mild hangover (let's blame stacey!)

the first incident was a heart-stopping narrow-miss collision with 250lbs of venison while descending camino alto. a true case of *deer in nite-rider headlamp* but thankfully i missed the animal by about two feet... which was still way too close for comfort

the second incident occurred as we pulled onto the sidewalk to get a coffee at the café in tiburon (yes, after 25 miles of riding, i was still nursing the hangover!). the sight of jordan, dressed in the areté blue, white and silver and pete in *blue and white imitation areté gear* astride our bikes startled a small border collie (think lassie but half the size) which was tied to one of the café chairs. the poor pooch jumped up from its resting place and started hauling ass along main street, with the café chair in tow. i ran into the café to alert the dog's owner that the pooch had fled in terror, taking the café chair with it. thankfully the frightened collie came to a halt about 100 yards down the street, probably from the exhaustion of dragging a 20lb chair behind it but not before the café proprietor had came out to see *who* had stolen one of the outdoor chairs... i think it was more excitement than tiburon could handle before 8am and i suspect that it might get written up for the local police report... *border collie caught red-handed stealing café furniture*

jc

Iron-virgin - Ironman Lake Placid

2004-07-27T09:10:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday was my debut in an Ironman distance triathlon… arguably the pinnacle of a 4 year process which started with Wildflower 2001. In the past 4 years, I have learned to swim (debatable if you’ve seen my stroke), ride a road/tri bike and run for more than 5 miles.

The last 6 months have been spent following a self-devised training, nutrition and rest plan, destined to get me across the finish line at Ironman Lake Placid in a reasonable time. The *plan* is legendary among friends, training partners and coach-mentors for its minutiae and detail, recorded in meticulous fashion in an excel spreadsheet. I left San Francisco last Wednesday morning ready to execute the last phase of the plan: the Ironman.

I arrived in Lake Placid at 3am last Thursday morning after a 9 hour weather delay in the delightful Chicago airport. This was not part of the plan.

While I was on the slow track to Lake Placid my luggage was on the *express* and somehow traveled on the flight from which I was bumped. Isn’t that a security risk? Thankfully, my training and travel buddy, Sarah, spotted my wheelie on the carousel and took custody until my arrival much later that night. This was not part of the plan…but better for Sarah to have my luggage than United Airlines.

The *plan* had me waking up 7am on Thursday morning to swim a loop of the course so I could start the adjustment process to East Coast time and get a feel for the water. 4 hours sleep was not part of the plan. Oh well, my years as an investment banking analyst taught me that that sleep deprivation is not cumulative, otherwise I’d be in deficit until retirement, so I figured I would be fine.

I was sharing a sweet condo, half a mile from town, with four other triathletes; three first-timers, Sarah, Steve and Pete, and a two-time Ironman Lake Placid veteran, Katie. I spent the time leading up to race-day, trying to be as mellow as possible. This does not come easy to me but I previewed the course, did short workouts, watched the Tour de France, cooked, ate and tried to figure out what to put into the confusing myriad of plastic bags we’d been given at registration: swim-bike bag, bike-run bag, bike special needs, run special needs. Relaxing, as hard as it is for me, was part of the plan.

The alarm sounded as planned at 3:45am on Sunday morning. I have trained every Sunday for the past 6 months on a breakfast of oatmeal and banana and a bagel with almond butter – the race-day breakfast. For some reason, on Sunday 25th July I could not stomach it and managed to down only half the bagel. In my 33 years, eating has been the one thing I have relied on, at my sickest, I could always eat. Loss of appetite was not part of the plan.

We arrived in transition just after 5am and the next 90 minutes evaporated in a sea of activity, dropping off special needs bags, going to the bathroom, pumping up tires, going to the bathroom, checking my tires, going to the bathroom, slathering myself in Body Glide and squeezing into my wetsuit, going to the bathroom AGAIN. Next thing I know, I hear the strains of the *Star Spangled Banner* while I’m swimming towards the start line. Yikes. How un-American? What about my warm-up swim? I was cutting the start a little close. That was not part of the plan.

The gun sounded at 7am and the throng of 2,000 triathletes all bee-lined for the first yellow buoy. I learned to swim 3 years ago and 2.4 miles was still daunting to me but 4 prior races in 2004 served as great comfort with open water swimming and mass starts. In spite of starting wide back of the 1:10 minute mark, it was at least 1,000m before I could swim with any sort of rhythm. In the scrum of swimmers, a kick to the head scored me a sweet scar above my right eye but it was not a race-ending injury. A mass swim start was an unavoidable but manageable part of the plan. My *sandbagged* swim time was 1:20 with a secret hope of swimming 1:15 and the notion that I had a chance of swimming 1:10 if I pushed it. I swam easy and exited in 1:13, feeling remarkably fresh. My plan was off to a good start.

T1 went smoothly and I rode out of town on the bike with two thoughts front and center in my mind: please let my heart rate settle down as soon as possible… and please don’t let me have a flat tire for the next 112 miles. I was in control of the former, reminding myself of Brent and Franky’s last email words of wisdom: “take the first loop easier than you think”. The first loop was crowded, mainly with guys, and it was hard to ride my pace without having to consider the drafting rules. I’m not used to having people riding the same pace as me in a race…I guess it’s a fast biker-chick thing. I completed the first loop in 2hrs 50mins. I was on track for the planned 5hrs 45min split.

Most notable was how I dropped fellow athletes on the climbs. I spun easily by a lot of guys. Favorable power-to-weight ratio? Were they under-geared? The second loop was uneventful, except for the sight of a New York State trooper holding an athlete’s bike while he relieved himself at the side of the road. Isn’t public urination illegal in New York State? I needed to pee but I didn’t want to stop and I couldn’t bring myself to pee on the bike. At least I was hydrating well - the fluid and nutrition plan was working well.

I arrived in T2 in 407th place after 7 hrs and 4 minutes. I promptly collided into Pete. Yikes, I had almost caught him on the bike! Did he have a bad swim? Had I biked too hard? Had he biked too easy? Had I biked too easy? Who knows except that I felt great and was ready to run…feeling fresh for the run was part of the plan.

After 3 miles I was in a *running no-man’s land*. A combination of a torn hamstring and IT-band syndrome had reduced my run training to 3x 3 miles/week for the past two months. This was an adaptation of the initial 30+miles/week training plan ;). You will not find this plan in any marathon or ironman training schedule but sometimes you just have to work with what you have. I consoled myself with my bike strength and pathetically clung to the ambition of running a 4 hour marathon. Ambitious? Yes, but it was part of the remainder math for the 11 hour plan. Did I mention that plan?

All seemed to be on track during the first loop which I ran very comfortably in 1hr 57mins. However, mile 17 marked the unraveling of the plan. IT band pain in both knees and trocanter bursitis in my right hip kicked in and I was reduced to a shuffle-like run for the last 9 miles. This was unplanned but probably inevitable. I was lucky to have made it 17 miles without debilitating pain. I gritted my teeth, sucked down a Clifshot and chased it with a cup of chicken broth and slowly made it to the finish line, watching helplessly as one 30something after another ran me down. I heard the words “Jordan from San Francisco, you are an Ironman” as the clock showed 11 hours 28 minutes 19 seconds. Fairly respectable for a first time Ironman but 28 minutes short of my 11 hour stretch-finish goal and 4 places short of a Kona slot. There's only so much you can plan for.
Most people would be truly psyched and proud to have conceived and executed such an aggressive plan, and I am… but… that’s what makes me, me… bring on the next race.

What does Ironman mean to you?

2004-07-12T09:22:00.001-07:00

my weekend homework... instead of training was to answer the question "what ironman means to you?" i did my *nemesis* ride today so i had plenty of time to think while climbing up pantoll...

10. Self-reflection - there's a lot of time to get to *know* yourself on long rides and runs
9. $9,862 and change - money spent on triathlon since I signed up for Lake Placid last July.
8. Watching the N'Sync E! True Hollywood Story because I'm too brain-dead after a long session to handle anything more cerebral
7. Multi-sheet excel spreadsheet - to record the minutiae of my training swims, rides, runs...as well as *social* obligations so I can claim some balance in my life
6. Thinking that a 6:30am swim at Aquatic Park is a good idea.
5. Bovine Bakery chocolate peanut butter blondies (I've been known to fight Hauth over the last one)
4. Self-absorption - never before have I been so obsessed about what I eat, how I train, how much I sleep...
3. Yelling out "on your left" - I have yet to be passed on the bike this year...slow swimming is the major contributor to this statistic.
2. Friends, friends, friends...most of whom let me *suck their wheel* :)
1. Raising money for spinal cord injury research in honor of my friend David Carmel - you'll hear a lot more on this soon!

i could go on...a calendar of sunrises over the golden gate bridge...a deteriorating career...enough swim caps to make a *plastic quilt*... but i'm more intrigued by how people who've done tons of races answer the question...

Alcatraz 2004

2004-06-10T17:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, it's usually Sandy *nagging* me for a race report but this time it was my *mum* that wanted the story of Alcatraz. As the dutiful, distant daughter that I am, here goes... it was an uneventful race so this will be short and uninteresting...

Saturday June 5th - pre-race preparation
A 2 hour ride followed by a 20 minute run, followed by a 5 hour round-trip drive to Carmel River Valley for Karen and Jamie's wedding (Stanford classmates/housemates). The usual pre-race nutrition rules were out the window after my first sip of the Guava juice and champagne cocktails... thankfully the return drive home limited my intake to just one of these sugary sweet drinks. Sea bass is not my usual pre-race dinner either but what was I going to do? Hmmm, didn't Pete take a bowl of home-made pasta to a wedding last year? No. I was not going to bring out a tupperware bowl of my own home-made food at dinner table 10... Yummy sea bass.

Sunday June 6th - race morning
The alarm went off at 5am and I was not ready to wake up. I hit snooze and started an internal debate about blowing off the Alcatraz race and racing the San Jose Triathlon next Sunday instead. This is the downside of doing a local race where you get to sleep in your own bed the night before. The internal debate continued until 5:30am when breakfast seemed like a reasonable idea. A bowl of oatmeal later and my spirits were improving and I found myself putting air into the tires of my bike. I guess I should do this race? What else am I going to do this morning? Go back to bed? Ride a century? Swim long? Complete the valuation for the pitch to a Texas software company I have to give on Monday? Alcatraz it is!

I ride the one mile downhill to Marina Green, set up transition and board the bus to Pier X to catch the boat. At the pier I seem to bump into every Californian triathlete I know and have ever met. It's self-service body-marking (which is not easy) so a guy approaches and asks a friend and I if we can *mark him up*. His race number is a suspiciously low 6 and I recognize him as pro-triathlete Cam Widoff. We get into a debate about whether he should have "X" or "P" on his calf instead of his age, so I think we gave him an "XP", just to be sure. Haha.

The big change from last year was for all athletes to board a single boat out to the island. Tricalifornia (event organizer) had rented a faux-paddle steamer that from all appearances usually doubled as a floating casino. Rather surreal to be on a mirror and chandelier-interiored *paddle-steamer* among a nervous gaggle of rubber-suited athletes. My life is weird.

The gun goes off at 8am, I jump into the balmy Bay waters and start swimming slowly towards shore. Mercifully, the 6 knot current is carrying me to shore even faster than I swim and I hit dry land after 28 minutes...200 yards short of where I was supposed to beach but everyone else seems to have "washed up in the same place" and is running along the shoreline to T0.5. I discard the wetsuit and run the half mile to T1 to hop on my bike for the uphill/downhill course. Ride went well... the only wrinkle being that I failed to tighten up the clip-on aerobars so they had a tendency to *move* if I put too much weight on them. Oops! Lots of spectators out on the course, including a very rowdy bunch of my Areté team-mates at the Legion of Honor. Areté, baby!

Just over 56 minutes later and I was back at T2, preparing for the 8 mile run. I set out and instantly felt the tightness in my IT band. I was moving slowly and I was being passed by everyone. Quit? Yes? No? This remained the story of the run until the sand ladder. This was the last place I expected to pass anyone but folks seemed to have run out of energy. I caught a girl that had passed me earlier in the run so this spurred me on to a significantly faster run than the first half had set me up for... negative-split runs seem to be the story of my races this year.

I crossed the finish line in 2hrs 40mins 30s, a 35 minute improvement over last year's time, barely scraping me into the top ten for my age group.

Sorry... I guess it was long and uninteresting... next race is Lake Placid...

JC

Alcatraz Triathlon - course advice

2004-05-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

Which bike? I rode the Trek without aero bars because I was too lazy to put them on... in fact I wasn't even sure if I would actually do anything but the swim since I had a cold/flu. Of course, I took all my gear to transition just in case I felt like riding/running... seeing my bike I figured what the hell, I could ride 18 miles at an easy pace... same decision process at T2... you get the picture... This year I will ride the Trek (w/ bars!) as it seems to make most sense for the course/hills. It's either uphill or downhill with only a couple of flat stretches. I reckon if you did a poll of the pro field you might get a 50/50 response on road vs. tri-bike set-up. I guess it depends if you're equally comfortable on both bikes. I tend to think I'm a stronger climber on the Trek, and the bike is lighter. I actually brought up the question with Chris last weekend and he advised the Trek without hesitation... hopefully you'll have the Seven by then?

As for the course... my course commentary sucks... I wish Bailey had written up Alcatraz... would be far more colorful... plus I have a crappy memory... but here goes.

Swim - there's a *mandatory* meeting the day before to disseminate information on the currents/sighting etc for the swim. I think you have less to worry about than me because I assume you'll just be following a lead kayak? They leave the amatuers to flail along at their own sweet pace. Don't forget the 3/4mile run from Crissy Field back to T1 at Marina Green... best to throw on a pair of sneakers for this so bring two pairs.

Bike - I'll add a few personal notes to GGTC course description - link below. It's an out & back course and it's basically uphill or downhill the entire way. Plus the roads are pretty bad/potholed! 18 miles with approx. 1900ft of climbing. The first mile or so out of transition is flat but then it's uphill or downhill until you reach the Great Highway at mile 6 or so. Gradient-wise, some of these inclines are 8% and above. Beware the hard right at mile 5. You transition from a sharp downhill to a sharp(ish) incline so if you're not careful it could get ugly - dropping a chain would be the big rookie mistake here. Big downhills with turns until you hit a short flat section along the Great Highway. Then you turn into Golden Gate Park and hit the moderate *rollers* of the park. This is a moderate recovery section of the course (though it's short so I'm not sure you get to recover at any point...). After the park you retrace your pedal strokes back along the Geat Highway and climb back past the Cliff House. I'm guessing the grade averages 7-8% and flattens out briefly as you turn left onto Camino del Mar and make the right onto Clement St which is very short but probably 15%+ grade. The climb back up to the Legion of Honor (past the golf course) is ~4-5%. Turn right at the Legion and it's downhill until mile 14 when you have another ~0.75 mile climb (~6%) to the top of Baker Beach. After that, it's downhill or flat all the way back to T2. I'll ride it in the next week or so, and if something springs to mind, I will let you know. You should definitely drive/ride the course on Friday/Saturday before the race because there are lots of twists and turns.

http://ggtc.org/alcatraz_bike.php

Run - Almost an out & back course. Long flat stretch out of transition. Mix of tarmac then packed dirt through Crissy Field. Must be 1.5 miles before hitting the stairs/very steep dirt section which leads you to the coastal trail. The steep section is short, 1/4 mile or so before levelling out (slight uphill) until you reach the GGB and are on the Coastal Trail. This is narrow (will make more of a difference for you on the return than on the way out!) and includes a short flight of wooden steps (~10-12 steps). Basically flat for ~ 1 mile until you reach the top of Baker Beach and then big downhill (the hill you just biked) to the beach. Run out and back along the sand for about 3/4 of a mile. This gets you to the famed *sand ladder*. You've seen it on TV, right? Basically two steps foward, one step back for 0.5mile. Most people walk the steepest section. Use the ropes. At the top, you'll retrace your steps back to Marina Green. ~0.25mile uphill to get you back onto the trail part, after which it will be downhill and then the flat 1.5mile Crissy Field section back to the finishing chute

There is No Easy Way by Chris Hauth

2004-05-07T09:38:00.000-07:00

Here I go again. Traveling this past week has afforded me the opportunity to read, write a lot of notes and then of course gather these different inputs and combine them into some sort of squabble that might benefit all of us. I know it goes deep at times and thank you for enduring my rambling. BUT - It was also interesting that while I was reading two books (J. Krishnamurti, Think of These Things & The Perfect Mile by N. Bascomb) it seems some of you have been getting restless - both these books addressed some of the simple facts you are getting too analytical about in your training and racing. While it is that time of year where we start thinking more about our races and analyze our 'feeling', there are some Truths that we seem to accept more when races are far off on the horizon. Why is it that we start taking all our inputs, from heart rate to eating habits and break them into fragmented pieces that are supposed to tell us something - show us we are improving, give us a pat on the back and let us know we are strong, healthy and fit? Why do we not think of these data points in the fall or the off-season? Why do we need validation as we get closer to race day?

Because we fear the simplicity of this entire process. Some of you have heard me say in the past weeks "this is all so simple, so easy". Not easy in effort but easy in how this process works. Most of you then shake your heads and figure 'that's easy for him to say' or 'he is soo full of himself'. Well, I have written this comment before and it exemplifies the ultimate Truth to me and how simple it all is:

There is no easy way -- there are consequences to every action, if you define sport in terms of process, then the fact that the path is difficult is the whole point! All athletes have assets and liabilities -- the only path to true satisfaction is by striving to achieve 100% of our own personal potential. Whether we achieve anything in life is 100% our doing -- no coach can create success, the athlete is responsible.

There is no easy way -- I love that sentence. If it were easy, why do it? The reason most of you enjoy this endurance sport is because of the challenge of it as well as the lifestyle of being fit and on an almost permanent fitness 'high' - knowing one can go out and ride any mountain or a 100+ miles is a great feeling. But is is not easy, nor is it supposed to be. Life provides us with a natural filter, those that want to sacrifice and suffer for this privilege of fitness and those that don't. It is that simple: suffer and sacrifice gives us a reward.

There is no easy way -- Why do we look for a magic formula? Why do we question our training, our inputs, our results, our data points? Why do we wonder about strength vs. power, how one person is faster than someone else, why too hard is so disheartening and too easy is just not the right feeling? There is only one way - to just do it. It might seem boring, but it is that simple. Go out and consistently work the miles.

There is no easy way -- We all have our motivations, our reasons. These don't have to be crypto-religious reasons - for most of you it should be this simple: to cover ground fast. Not only to better than the next competitor, but better than yourself...That is the true simple nature of what this sport is - a challenge to cover ground faster than you did previously. While training is for many of us is a rite of purification, that feeling of it being a lifestyle because it feels so good, from it comes speed and strength. But training also needs to simulate racing - and racing is a rite of death; from it comes knowledge (Krishnanurti). While this sounds intense, this rite demands a certain amount of time spent precisely on the Red Line - where you are riding the edge and there is nothing but hurt, suffering and pain on the other side. It is a knowledge of this experience that will prepare us better for that race day. It is not easy to train/race on this Edge - but then again, if we can spend a significant time on it...well, you know that answer.

There is no easy way -- We all make our sacrifices but we also need to keep it simple. We are all athletes (and some of you really are!) with an absurdly difficult task. This daily toil is arduous; satisfying on the whole, but not the bounding, joyous, happy-day nature romp we read in magazines. We listen carefully (??!!) to our bodies and heed strange requests. We all know what the mystic-athletes, the joggers, the water-cooler triathletes and others of their ilk say. But we also know that their euphoric selves are generally nowhere to be seen on dark, rainy mornings - especially not on the early weekends. They primarily want to talk it, not do it.... Simple: the true athlete trains even when he does not feel like it, races when supposed to, without excuses and with nothing held back. One does not question strength and power, heart rate and zones - they just go out and do the miles, do the work, put their head down and remain within the process - there are consequences to every action - if done honorably and consistently those consequences are positive result in our own personal definition of positive.

And the simple Truth -- We all have to go out and do it. As Roger Bannister said (um 50 years ago yesterday) the Trial of Miles, Miles of Trials. The true competitive athlete, simmering in our own existential juices, we endure our melancholia the only way we know how: gently , together with those few others who endure/understand with us; yet sometimes very much alone. We have to do it. Just get through it with all we know how. Trial of Miles - they do add up, the hours of work, the cold, simple fact that our toil will result in a better race - but not guaranteed. Miles of Trials - there are ups and downs, days where things all fall into place and days where it is impossible to get our of bed or climb that hill fast, or work that interval as hard as you should, or h-a-n-g on to that wheel. Days where it all seems to fall apart and we see the lady in the lake or the wheel in front of us fade over the hill in front of us. You just gotta do it - it's that simple. There is no magic formula, there is no easy way...

And finally - take this tidbit of information from the book I just finished with you: The main point/difference in Krishnanurti's book is that he doesn't espouse any particular path, belief system or other dogma. His view is that there is a universal truth within us all - we simply need to quiet our mind for this truth to become apparent..... He also talks quite a bit about the only real truth being what we experience for ourselves and that it is not possible to follow anything, anyone, any creed to a truth... truth is a pathless land... get it? Simply put - there is no easy way, just our own.....

Word.

Chris

Saturday 1 May - Wildflower Long Course Triathlon

2004-05-02T16:58:00.000-07:00

Calories - 1,000 during race, at least 3,000 post-race and let's not begin to count Sunday's ice-cream *treats* ; Alcohol units - 4 (two red wine and 1 *buttery nipple*) all post-race; Negative thoughts during the run - gazillion, if people heard my self-talk, I'd be committed to a mental institution; High temperature in Lockwood- 93F Event - 1.2mi swim, 55mi bike, 13.1mi run

7:50am - National Anthem singer is a *no-show*. Sing-a-long to an instrumental version... if only I knew the words... I'm clearly not yet ready for my citizenship test.
8:00am - Official start time of men's pro wave but the athletes are having trouble grasping the concept of the start line being on the concrete ramp rather than in the water.
8:02am - Close-up view of the men's start... more white-water that a Class V rapid! 9:17am - Wave 16, i.e. women's 30-34 gets underway... Lake San Antonio is balmy. Didn't even flinch when the water hit the bottom of the wetsuit zipper.
9:54am - Hurrah! Out of the water. Look at watch. 37minutes. Oh, no! But I can swim 2200yds in 32minutes in the pool! Why so slow?
10:04am - Riding 10% grades of Beach Hill, *Egg Beaters* passes me. Note to self that I'll be seeing her again. I feel icky, my quads are sore. Remind myself it's only mile 3.
11:18am - Somewhere along Jolon Road. Finally warmed up. Need to begin working the flatsthough I'm feeling nauseous? Clif bars are not very appealing right now but must eat! What to do?
11:23am - Pass Megan who yells that there are about a dozen W30-34 ahead of me. No
idea how she's keeping count because *body markings* seemed to have washed off in the lake but am cheered slightly by the fact that I'm moving through the field. Eat some Clif Bar. Hope I can keep it down.
12:07pm - Middle of the friggin' day and I'm climbing shadeless Nasty Grade... Bugger! But I'm riding the Trek and I have a 12-27 rear cassette. How hard can it be?
12:09pm - "Jordan Cantwell". Who's calling me? Turn head to look around.
Brian Finlay: "There are five W30-34 ahead of you, I've been keeping count
for you. Good luck".
12:15pm - Pass *Egg Beaters girl*... Told you so! But she's 26...
12:25pm - "Phipp, phipp, phipp..." What's that noise? Darn... rode over someone's helmet sticker and it is plastered on my front wheel.
12:26pm - "Phipp, phipp, phipp..." Dismount and carefully unpeel the sticker, which then sticks to my fingers. Unpeel sticker from fingers.
12:27pm - Remount.
12:49pm - Cruise into T2. Rack bike. Discover bag of gummy worms is now one single, molten jelly snake. Abandon the candy idea. Leave T2 with water bottle and Clif shots.
1:01pm - Mile 1 of the run. No women in sight... just guys. But everyone is walking? Why? It's *swim, bike, run* not *swim, bike, death march*. C'mon people.
1:19pm - Olympic Club cheering posse. Flanny hands me a capful of ice which I place into my cap. Is that an illegal assist? Never mind. Have not seen a course marshall all day.
1:21pm - Mile 3. I'm running 10 minute miles. This is not good... but I'm the only one running. That's good isn't it? Why won't the guys start running?
1:33pm - Naked water stop... naked girl with *freshman twenty* and *brazilian bikini
wax* tries to high 5 me. Eeuww.
1:45pm - Steep section of trail... now I'm walking and it feels good. I can walk all 13 miles can't I? Remind myself that I can't walk at Lake Placid so pick up the pace barely.
1:56pm - Mile 6. I'm running 11-12min/miles. This is terrible. Girl runs by me. She's
42...phew, not my age-group, but I'm being run down by 42 year olds! Develop new *aid station protocol* - cup of water on head, 3 gulps of Gatorade, cup of water with Clif shot. Feel much better. 2:12pm - Back in campground. Crowds cheering because I'm the only girl in sight. Somehow I've revived and I'm running 7min 30s pace. This is good! Where did it come from? GGTC and SFTri clubs start yelling my name. I'm moving! Yay!
2:20pm - Cruise by KKS cheering posse... Lots of noise. Hear Pete's voice call "Go JC" but am focused and continue running at this new-found pace.
2:36pm - Running uphill out of *the Pit* and see 32 year old girl ahead of me. I pass her but she picks up the pace and stays on my shoulder. "Just keep running your pace, Jordan."
2:37pm - 32 year old is breathing heavily and *drops off the back*. Pass JPM colleague, Seth Miller. Smile to self.
2:42pm - Steep run down Lynch Hill. I'm flying downhill and grimacing from the pain as the newly-formed blisters on the balls of my feet are being punctured. Ouch!
2:49pm - Cross finish line in 5hrs 35min 46s

Good enough for 5th place in my age-group, which at Wildflower merits a place on the podium. Even better news is that Natalie took 1st place in our age-group!

Jordan

Ralphs race report

2004-04-02T16:48:00.000-08:00

Since Sandy wanted more detail than was included in my earlier top ten...

Saturday morning, we strided into the water... a balmy 63F with a slight chop as you got closer to the harbor exit. The gun went off and I thought I was moving pretty well. I was almost at the buoy that I thought was the turnaround just as a bunch of M40-44 guys caught me on the swim. I caught a bit of the draft, made the turn and started heading for home, only to be stopped in my tracks by a kayaker... we had turned too early. Ack! I raised my head and saw that there was another buoy. I backtracked and continued around the buoy and then set off back to the jetty. As I exited the water I saw 38+mins on my watch. How the f@#$! did that happen? I thought my swim was improving? How could I be so slow?

Oh well, at least I was back on dry land... and feeling fresh. Thankfully, for the next 2.5+ hours or so, it would be *all about the bike*. Never having seen or ridden the course, I was flying blind but a detailed course description on the "gordo forum" last week plus advice from Brent to *save a little bit* for the second half of the bike, was front and center in my mind. I spun easy for the first 10 or so miles, let my heart rate settle and my legs warm up. I was in wave 16 of 19 and the last female wave, so the course was BUSY by the time I got on the bike. It made for some very frustrating moments during the first 20 miles since the course included narrow stretches along bike paths. About 5 guys passed me from the M40-44 age group but for the most part I was sitting out on the left into a swirling headwind/tailwind (I couldn't keep track - seemed like the wind came from every direction), overtaking a constant stream of cyclists on my right. Thankfully, I've done enough races to know to holler *on your left* well in advance. As I zipped by, I was encouraged to receive compliments on my bike pace from fellow athletes, male and female, as well as cheers from the marines that were marshalling the course.

Mile 30 or so is where the hills begin.... I was just warming up. The first hill has a decent pitch (8-9% - think Nasty Grade) but is short at about 0.5miles. A few folks were weaving back and forth on the hill (they must have thought it was L'Angliru) so it made for some tricky navigation. I switched into 39-23, got out of the saddle and *jack rabbited* past them, conscientiously keeping my breathing steady. The next two hills came up about 5 miles after the first... both seemed longer but the grade was shallower (5-6%) so I climbed both hills seated, focusing on my form. Pretty sweet to see guys freak out when they see how fast and easy I was climbing! Mack & Michael, all that big gear work paid dividends!

The final 15 miles or so seemed flat to rolling but the headwinds required some consistent effort. At one point I passed a guy (wearing red, maybe Phoenix tri club?) who then came up on my left and told me to *get on his wheel*. What a jackass? I told him to get out of my way and leave me alone (more eloquently than that of course ;-)). I wish I had noted his number. A couple of other athletes saw the incident and assured me that the guy was being a *dick* and not to worry. I was pretty freaked out but put my head down and cruised back to T2, feeling strong and ready to run.

The run is a flat two loop course on concrete along the oceanfront and residential side streets of the town. I jogged out of transition and almost collided with François Chabaud (male winner) who was wandering around near the medical tent. That would not have been cool. I headed past the crowds on my first loop, to the sound of Chris Hauth yelling *go get 'em, Jordan*. I also passed Brent, making his final turn for the finishing straight. I couldn't believe he'd finished already and I still had 13 miles to go! My legs had the usual heaviness but they began to loosen up after a mile or so. I didn't feel great but I reminded myself that *it wouldn't get any better so just deal with it*. That insight will be key for Lake Placid. Hahaha. No major incidents on the run, except almost choking after taking a swig of coke at mile 11. I felt that I kept a steady pace though I forgot to make a note of my splits for the two loops so it's hard to say whether I slowed down. I was more focused on my breathing and heart rate than I was on my pace. I ran a 1hr 44min half-marathon... my fastest ever in a triathlon and only 3 minutes slower than my fastest half-marathon so I was pleased with my result, given my inconsistent running over the past 12 months. The best news is that, while I'm sore from the race (running on concrete), my hamstring and knee did not cause any problems. Yeah!

10 reasons it might not be wise to ride in the rain...

2004-03-02T09:05:00.000-08:00

10. You still have not changed out the racing slicks on your bike so your tires have zero grip with the slightest bit of moisture on the road
9. Reduced visibility means that the dump trucks on Polk Street don't see you on their inside
8. Your niterider headlamp is not as waterproof as the packaging would claim
7. You don't have any wet lube
6. Your "pac-a-mac" clear plastic rain jacket resembles your 80 year old Grandmother's raincoat... (not that cycling is a sport with high-fashion stakes)
5. You detached the visor from your Pneumo helmet so you can't shield your eyes from the dirt and rain
4. You haven't had a bike with mudguards since grade school
3. You have yet to master wiping debris from the back tire without wiping out (and have the scars to prove it)
2. A rainy day is a great excuse to check out the indoors spin class your friend has been raving about
1. Hell, you live in California so what's ONE skipped workout in an entire season!

However, passing on a ride in gnarly conditions reminds me of an excerpt from the "Road to Paris", the documentary about the USPS team's preparation for TdF '01. One scene includes a training session/reconnaissance ride in the Alps in mid-February (maybe the Col du Galibier). It's late in the day, it's cold and the team is tired from doing hill repeats to exhaustion. Then it starts to snow. The team descends to the bottom of the hill where the support vehicles are waiting, the shivering riders clamber into the van and start wrapping themselves in blankets. Except, that is, Lance Armstrong. He calls over to Johann Bruyneel (USPS directeur sportif) and says he wants to check out the hill one more time. Bruyneel turns to the camera grinning and says in his thick Belgian accent: "Zeez is what nobody seez. Zeez is why he is great cyclist. Zeez is why he'll be champion again."

Heartbroken rap by The Real Emcee JC

2003-12-16T20:13:00.000-08:00

Hi! My name is…(what?) My name is… (who?)
My name is…(scratches) Emcee JC
Hi! My name is…(what?) My name is… (who?)
My name is…(scratches) Emcee JC

Hi Friend! Do you like affairs of the heart? (yeah! Yeah! Yeah!)
Wanna hear the report of the white boy New Yorker and the Brit-girl tart? (uh-huh!)
Watch ‘em swim, bike, run at Wildflower
She displayed native grace but then matched his cycle power
Then ladies stranded on the return from Alpine Dam
Responds to a lifeline call, he becomes a hero, more than a man
Bonded further wit’ Phil and Paul’s banter at the Tour de France
Blown away by the cyclist they just call Lance
Charmed by his humor and a soft spot for his balding pate
Hmmm, could this dude be more than a running mate?
Briefly distracted by 6’5” Sebastian, the silver medalist
Cute, tall. But skinny-legged Pete is funny. The Olympian is jettisoned
She learns to swim, he teased like she’s doing the Macarena
Still, she’s hoping he just might want to date her
Partner in pain during the century they call the World’s Toughest
Rejecting World Series tix, he became the World’s Meanest

Triathlon roadtrips, fat tire fraternal ‘ventures at Slickrock
Chink in emotional armor; huggin’, kissin, even sucking his c***
Wear down and exhaust his powers of resistance
Cavin’ finally to her foolish persistence
Heart’s dead weight, tryin’ to get her emotions straight
‘Cause back in SF, he doesn’t want her as a date
Halloween! Coyote Ugly is shimmying and shaking her small booty
Turnaround in San Diego, he finds banana girl more fruity
How can it be? SoCal is all smiles, sex and affection
Reverse direction. In SF, it transforms into unspoken rejection
Friends said, JC, yeah, we see he’s a fool
But stickin’ around just ain’t cool
Stop the sufferin’, the hot chick’s movin’ on
Fucked up commitment issues have finally won
I’m so sorry if this all strikes too close to home
Trust me, it’s in jest, you’ve unleashed my funny bone

***************
Original lyrics by the Real Slim Shady
[ Chorus ] x 2
Hi! My name is...(what?) My name is...(who?)
My name is...‹scratches› Slim Shady
Hi! My name is...(huh?) My name is...(what?)
My name is...‹scratches› Slim Shady

[ Intro ] (during above chorus)
‹clears throat› Excuse me!
Can I have the attention of the class
For one second?

Hi kids! Do you like violence? (yeah! yeah! yeah!)
Wanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails through each one of my eyelids? (uh-huh!)
Wanna copy me and do exactly like I did? (yeah! yeah!)
Try 'cid and get fucked up worse than my life is? (huh?)
My brain's dead weight, I'm tryin' to get my head straight
But I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate (umm)
And Dr. Dre said ([Dre] Slim Shady, you a basehead)
Uh-uhh! ([Dre] So why's your face red? Man you wasted!)
Well, since age 12 I've felt like I'm someone else
Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off ‹rip›
And smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross
I smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass
Faster than the fat bitch who sat down too fast (whoaa!)
C'mere slut (Shady wait a minute, that's my girl dawg!)
I don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off

[ Chorus ]

My English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high
Thanks a lot, next semester I'll be 35
I smacked him in his face wit an eraser, chased him with a stapler
And stapled his nuts to a stack of papers (ooww!)
Walked in a strip club, had my jacket zipped up
Flashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup
Extra-terrestrial, runnin' over pedestrians
In a space-ship while they screamin' at me (let's just be friends!)
Ninety-nine percent of my life I was lied to
I just found out my mom does more dope than I do (damn)
I told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper
Make a record about doin' drugs and name it after her (oh thank you!)
You know you blew up when the women rush the stands
And try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans ‹squeals›
This guy at White Castle asked for my autograph (Dude, can I get your autograph?)
So I signed it: "Dear Dave, Thanks for the support-ASSHOLE!"

[ Chorus ]

Stop the tape! This kid needs to be locked away! (get him!)
Dr. Dre don't just stand there, operate!
I'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die (fuck that)
I'll have to be carried inside the cemetary and buried alive (aiyo)
Am I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide
I just drank a fifth of vodka-dare me to drive? (go ahead)
All my life I was very deprived
I ain't had a woman in years, my palms are too hairy to hide (whoops)
Clothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk
I spit when I talk ‹hochs, spits›
I'll fuck anything that walks (c'mere)
When I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits
How you gonna breast-feed me Mom (wah!) you ain't got no tits! (wah!)
I lay awake and strap myself in the bed
Put a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head (BANG)
I'm steamin' mad ‹growl› and by the way when you see my dad (yeah?)
Tell him I slit his throat-in this dream I had

[ Chorus ] x 2

Top 10 reasons to ride in the rain

2003-12-12T09:08:00.000-08:00

10. It's invigorating and you're a warrior.
9. The amazing cloud patterns in the Bay Area create awesome lighting scenarios
8. Opportunity to wear all that wet weather cycling gear you purchased at Sports Basement
7. No one else is out there
6. Ralph’s is only 4 weeks away
5. The McCullough Road hill in the Headlands is pretty sheltered from wind and rain
4. The weather in San Francisco is so localized it might not be raining the other side of the bridge
3. Cycling in the rain is still more enjoyable than swimming
2. Feeling of triumph as you weave by the SUV commuters picking up their lattés at Starbucks on Polk St
1. Lance would be riding

Plus a couple of bonus reasons…

Seeing your pedal stroke reflected from the water on the road below.

Hearing that 'ssssssssss' sound as 23mm of rubber slice through the thin layer of rain.

My Favorite Things

2003-11-16T19:55:00.001-08:00

My Favorite Things
Words by Pete November / Composed by Rogers & Hamerstein

Wetsuits and kickboards and goggles and paddles
Aeroboars set right to fit with our saddles
Ultegra components with double chain rings
These are a few of my favorite things

Cytomax, Gatorade, Gu and bananas
Helmets that fit over funky bandanas
Shaving your legs so the road rash don’t sting
These are a few of my favorite things

Heart rates and split times and thresholds of lactate
A transition set-up with room for my rackmate
The level of fitness triathlon brings
These are a few of my favorite things

When it’s still dark
My alarm rings
And motivation’s low
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I can get up and go!

*******
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple streudels
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are a few of my favorite things

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

Top ten memorable moments of Ironman Hawaii 2003

2003-10-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

10. Sharing pizza and chicken wings as part of Michael and Dave’s fat and carbo-loading last supper
9. Listening to U2’s ‘Beautiful Day’ after the horn blew at the start of the 2003 Ironman World Championships
8. Enjoying a leisurely brunch after the swim start in the knowledge that I was not missing any of the “Ironman action”
7. Knowing I had the “best seat in the house” on the back of Bryan’s scooter, riding around the bike and run courses
6. “Scootering by” a surprised Dave Bailey as he dominated one of the hills in the dead zone – “Get it Done Dave – you own this hill”
5. Chris McCormack’s broad smile when I yelled “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie” as he slowed to a walk in the Energy Lab
4. Snapping a pic of Michael and Dave high 5’ing while passing one another on the marathon
3. Experiencing the enthusiastic crowd as the final athletes crossed the line before the midnight (17 hour) cut-off time
2. The look of surprise and excitement on Michael’s face when his name was announced as the winner of the fastest amateur bike split (a.k.a. Hammerhead award) at the Banquet dinner
1. Being able to count two world class triathletes among my biking buddies – inspiring and motivating!

Bonus moment…
Watching Dave Bailey giggle like a schoolgirl while being humped by a 300lb horny monk seal when snorkeling the day after the race

Lost Coast Ride by Chris Carey

2003-07-06T09:10:00.000-07:00

Just a little riding anecdote from the camping trip this weekend.... Saturday, July 5th Myself, Mack, Michael, and Jordan, piled into the family truckster and headed for the ave of the giants for a 100 mile ride. After "careful" review of the map (the quotes around careful is to emphasize a commonly used literary device called foreshadowing) myself, Mack and Michael found that we would have one 5 mile climb to the coast and that would be the only steep part of the ride. The rest was flat and even downhill. The ride would take us in a giant loop through the ave of the giants, onto the coast then circle back around to the ave of the giants. The three men charged the first climb with reckless abandon, pushing hard up 15% grades, 95 degree heat and at times gravel road. Michael of course leading and dropping mack and I, as was the theme of the weekend (despite the fact he had already ridden 200 miles on thursday and 60 hard miles on Friday). After reaching the top, we three descended down into Honeydew. here, we stopped at a local marker and refilled "our" water bottles (again, note the quotes referencing foreshadowing). As soon as that was done, we headed out on the ride that was to take us along the coast. Jordan, decided to continue down the descent to Honeydew where she ran into the same locals who advised her that we had just left and we were bastards for ditching her. However, with her cool, British wit, she gamely replied, "oh no, I am planning on riding back and picking up the pieces when the three return from the ride." Focus on the word pieces here (I am just tired of typing quotes and by now you should be looking for foreshadowing). Back to the main pack. As we headed out of Honeydew we plowed along on straight flat highways making terrific time. However, our trusted map began to lead us astray as we approached the first of 3 big climbs to the coast. As we charged ahead, Michael slowly but surely weaned us off his wheel, mack first then myself (this order will be key later). As I got to the top and could see the ocean below me I felt a surge of pride, and relief that the climbing had to be over with. (From this point on the story will only focus on my ride as I will let the others speak of the hardships that they encountered) As I descended down to sea level I was met with the strongest headwind I have ever ridden in. I was pedaling in my 2nd to easiest gear and possibly holding 10 miles an hour. The wind we later gauged to be between 30-35 mph. Completely unshielded from the wind, I couldn't help but curse myself that I didn't stay with Michael on the climb so that I could be drafting behind him in the wind. After 30 minutes of the punishing coast, my eyes spied what was ahead of me and my stomach dropped. A climb which made the 15% grade look easy was staring at me, taunting me. As I prepared myself mentally for the climb mentally, I tried to do so as well physically by taking a drink of cytomax. As I reached back to my cages, I found them both empty. It seems the unbelievably rough descent had jettisoned my bottles. I was 65 miles out, with no water and a massive climb in front of me. The next 1.5 hours can be summed up in one word...climbing. Grades greater than 20% at times, twice the road descended back to sea level only to make you climb the 2500 feet back up. (I will at this point insert a quote from Michael "Those F&cking sheep were laughing at me." Also note that none of this climb was on the map) What made matters worse, besides having no water and not seeing Michael or Mack anywhere, was that our 90 degree day quickly turned to 45-50 degree fog. But, I was focused. I knew the road I was looking for had something to do with a "bear" and was near the town of Ferndale. My watch now read 5:30, I had been riding for 4.5 hours, and I still had at least 40 miles to go when I spotted it, "Bear River Road." A quick right turn and I was headed downhill, for good this time, or so I thought. After the paved road turned to dirt/gravel (which was not uncommon by this point) but then stayed this way for a good mile or so, I realized I was not where I wanted to be and descended almost all the way to the bottom. The road I was looking for was Grizzly Bluff, but the mnemonic I choose to remember the road, "Bear", just happened to be in another street sign. By this time I hadn't seen Michael for 3 hours as I presumed he was down, waiting for me and Mack and Ferndale. And, due to my detour, I had figured Mack had passed me and was headed down as well. So, I climbed as hard as I could back to my original point, then pedaled for 5 for miles along the fogged in ridge before I descended into Ferndale, a welcome sight. After searching for Michael and Mack, grabbing a Dr.Pepper from the local supermarket and finishing it before I paid. I decided they must have got sick of waiting for me and headed out. After receiving a variety of directions from the locals on just where the hell I was and how to get back, I found "grizzly bluff." The time now read 6:30. My only goal was to try and find our "planned" route so that when they came to look for me they knew where to look. Well, like everything else that day, I got lost again. Failing to find "Blue Sky" or "Blue ridge" or "Blue Line", whatever the hell the name of the street was, I can tell you it had a Blue in it, I pedaled into another local market and this time bypassed the 12 oz can of Dr. Pepper for the more rationale 1 lt bottle of coke amd asked this question verbatim "uh, yeah, how do I get to the ave of the giants...you know...the big trees.( I believe at this point I was brain dead)". The answer, to my amazement was, "stay left and you have about 12 miles to go." I was going to make it. I strapped that one liter bottle to the back of my jersey and set off like a man possessed (which at this point was more like an elderly woman in a get-around scooter). However, after a few turns and a brief sting on 101, I made it, "the Ave of the Giants...Next Exit." Pulling of 101 I turned into the Ave of the Giants. Of course, the Ave of the Giants has many entrances and since I wasn't on the pre discussed path I had no idea if the meeting point was north or south. After pedaling south a few hundred yards I found a map that was about as helpful as a blind, mute, deaf man who was lost as well, in terms of helping me find my way. But then it happened, a light so pure and warm that seeing it almost makes you want to avert your eyes because you aren't worthy. Yes, Jordan had gone on a reconnaissance mission to find me. Of course, she didn't see me on the side of the road so I had to flail my arms and almost dive in front of the blue volvo to get her to stop. At which point I said, "how much farther." She quickly perceived my exhaustion and took my bike from me and told me to get my arse in the car. However, it was at this point that she said, "where are Michael and Mack." (now, remember the order from before, it went Michael, myself, then Mack.) Now I thought, shit they are waiting for me somewhere in bumblef*ck called Ferndale cursing my name. We decided to go look for them and as we were driving down 101 we spotted our lost comrades. A quick U turn and pull off. Michael and Mack ride up, and Michael, with a giddy/crazy look in his eye says "I bet you're wondering what the hell happened." To help end an email that is almost as long as the ride, and to let the players tell their stories as it happened I will only paraphrase....Michael crashed at the first descent and went off the road landing head first with his bike in a tree, a shoe still connected to the bike. I passed not noticing the skid mark but Michael managed to climb up before mack and passed. Mack then took the same wrong turn I did and had to climb up which had Michael waiting for him in Ferndale freezing his ass off before Mack could climb back up and descend down the correct road and then continue on to the Ave of the Giants. So, we all survived. Michael found one of my bottles and used it since his bottles fell out as well and we all agreed to write nasty emails to the Kelly Map company. Thank god Jordan was their to pick up the pieces. She even managed to grab a six pack on the way...The end---

Top ten quotes of Saturday's Lost Coast ride?

2003-07-05T09:14:00.000-07:00

10. Tourist in Honeydew: "You just missed them. They left about 2 minutes ago. Do those boys always leave you behind?"
9. Mack to Michael: "We should get gas before we ride. It might be *late* when we get back."
8. Jordan to tourist in Honeydew: "I'm just doing a short ride then I'm going back to pick up the pieces of the boys' ride."
7. Mack: "I thought I was going to die, underneath a cow."
6. Michael: "Hey Chris, I found one of your water bottles... but I hope you don't mind that I drank your Gatorade."
5. Michael & Mack: "We're doing a loop of the Lost Coast. 100 miles." Local kid on BMX bike: "Yeah, we're doing the Tour de Ferndale. One and a half miles."
4. Jordan: "200 miles is a f**king long way." [okay, I'm cheating this was Thursday!]
3. Chris when Jordan found him staring at a map: "How much further do I have to ride?" Jordan: "You are not riding anywhere! Get in the car."
2. Michael to himself, delirious: "Those f**king sheep are laughing at me."
1. Michael: "I'll bet you're wondering what happened to me?"

Most of these were in Chris and Michael's recap/stories... I'm sure there are many more...

Riding 200 miles in one day

2003-07-04T19:53:00.000-07:00

I haven't time to pen much of a note on Thursday's 200 miler or the rest of the weekend but suffice to say the ride to Westport was HARD. Mentally and physically draining but the stunning scenery made it unique and worthwhile.

I don't think I managed to tell everyone but I took Thursday off work to make it an extra long weekend of biking/camping on the Lost Coast (Northern California) with six friends and a dog. Two of us (Michael and myself) actually rode the 200 miles from San Francisco to our Westport campsite, leaving the Golden Gate Bridge at 6am and arriving in Westport in the last light of day at 8pm, after 200 miles, 15,000ft of climbing and a lot of fatigue, but excited that we had actually made it!

To all you contemplating next year's Ironman Lake Placid race, at mile 120 (our lunch stop in Gualala), I questioned whether I wanted to get back on my bike or run a marathon... in spite of aching shoulders and saddle soreness that the combination of my Pearl Izumi shorts, a Terry butterfly saddle and a tube of Chamois butt'r had not prevented, the bike was definitely more appealing. I made a quick phone call to one of our fellow campers from the restaurant pay phone at lunch. Even though I was dialling from a random 707 area code, my exhaustion caused me to forget all phone etiquette/pleasantries, and all I could manage to say was "200 miles is a f**king long way". What was I thinking?

Thankfully, the sun came out after lunch, plus the chicken sandwich, plate of french fries w/ tons of ketchup and two diet cokes had appeared to give me a new lease of life. By that time, I had also become used to Highway 1's endless number of "Corkscrew Canyons" that send you spinning down to ocean level then back up the dizzying and towering cliffs... I stopped paying attention to the gradient of the road and drew strength from the views of the ocean waves battering the sea-stacks. I just needed to keep turning the pedals and the miles would take care of themselves.

By the time Michael and I made it to Westport, we were both cold and exhausted but giddy from the sense of achievement. We couldn't stop giggling as we were shivering on the porch of the local grocery store, picnicking on deli sandwiches and a six pack of beer, waiting for everyone else to arrive (by car) with camping gear and warm clothing. Thankfully they showed up about an hour later. A HUGE thank you to the support crew!