Racing The 2024 Ironman 70.3 World Championships in New Zealand

It has been a few months since my family returned from our monster trip around the world for the Ironman 70.3 Worlds in New Zealand last December, and quite honestly, I have needed that time to fully absorb it. Turns out, circling the globe for a race does more than test your endurance—it rearranges your soul, your time zones, and your tolerance for airplane food. Our planet is a vast and diverse tapestry of cultures and rituals, stillness and movement, explosive flavors, smiles and laughter, architectural marvels, weird animals, and more - all mysterious and new, yet at the same time, oddly familiar. Osmose it all on one trip, and you are forever changed. 

And change was something I needed desperately. 

Roughly 30 days to cover Vienna, Dubai, Singapore, race in Taupo, Auckland, Honolulu, Santa Barbara, and then return to Vienna...(full story and photos on Substack!).

Is Doping Pervasive in Ironman Triathlons? This Study Says It May Be As Much as 1 in 7 Athletes...

A recent German study of 2,997 triathletes published in November, 2013 published on PLOS ONE, anonymously asked athletes competing at Ironman Frankfurt, Ironman 70.3 Wiesbaden, and Ironman Regensburg if they used performance enhancing supplements (both doping and over-the-counter) and the results were jaw-dropping to say the least. If the study is correct, as many as 1 in 7 amateur Ironman triathletes are doping in some form, as well as 20% of those competing at the Ironman European championships.

The study made a distinction between physical doping (steroids, EPO, human growth hormone, etc.) and cognitive doping (antidepressants, beta-blockers, modafinil, methylphenidate, etc.), but the results were still eye opening given the sample size:

• 13% admitted to physical doping (steroids, EPO, human growth hormone, other physical enhancements) ;
• 15% admitted to cognitive doping (antidepressants, beta-blockers, modafinil, methylphenidate, etc.); 
• 10% admitted to both physical and cognitive doping; 
• 20% admitted to physical doping at Ironman European championships Frankfurt.

Holy cheatskates, Batman. One in five admitted to doping at the Ironman European championships?!? That is crazy! Certainly there are a few suspects out there, but I doubt anyone suspected it would be as big as 20% at a big championship. If this is well known underground fact, this sport is as crazy as the must-dope-to-compete world of cycling.

But taking a closer look at the study I can see that the key question in the survey for "physical enhancements" asks if you've taken substances that can "...only be prescribed by a doctor, are available in a pharmacy, or can be bought on the black market (e.g. anabolic steroids, erythropoietin, stimulants, growth hormones) to enhance your physical performance". Now that could be a lot of things, including diet pills, Viagra, Rogaine, organic supplements, you name it. I mean, I've heard that some athletes take these things (ha, ha). So even though one might conclude performance enhancement is pervasive among these athletes, one can't quite conclude that all Ironmen are going all Lance Armstrong on us.

One thing for sure, the path to enhancing the body through substances is a slippery slope. It may not be for a specific race goal, and could just be the pervasiveness to enhance the body. The study ends by concluding:

"The use of substances to improve physical and cognitive performance was associated on both levels of legality (enhancement vs. doping) suggesting that athletes do not use substances for a specific goal but may have a general propensity to enhance. This finding is important for understanding why people use such substances. Consequently, more effective prevention programs against substance abuse and doping could be developed."

What do you guys think...is doping pervasive in Ironman? I've known of a few individuals who went full BALCO to do their best at the Ironman World Championships, but quite frankly, they were the type to skirt the rules of life in general.

And I know about you ultra runners....unless you count Vespa, tattoos, big beards, or an extraordinary amount of aid station Oreos as physical performance enhancers, you're pretty clean. ;-)

SD

Smooth Racing at the 2010 Pacific Crest Half Ironman

I had a blast last weekend joining 550 triathletes at the 2010 Pacific Crest Half Ironman in Sunriver, OR. Although I was familiar with this beautiful course, it had been a few years since I did the "tri thing". It welcomed me back like an old friend.

There's a magic about Central Oregon in the early summer, when snow-capped peaks contrast a hot dry heat and lure soaked Oregonians from their caves. Everyone comes out to play...and I mean EVERYONE. This weekend hosted the Pacific Crest Endurance Weekend, with over a dozen events from kids triathlons, to marathons, to tri's and du's of all distances, as well as the USA Cycling Junior Championships, a regional tennis tournament, and a golf fundraiser. Outdoor enthusiasts were out by the thousands enjoying nature's playground!

I hadn't originally planned to do Pac Crest this year, but when I saw the fine print on my winning lottery slot for Ironman Hawaii that said "you must complete a half Ironman or greater in the next 90 days to validate your lottery slot", I knew this would be the perfect qualifier. I had completed this race three times ('03, '04, '07...yikes, am i that old?) so I knew what to expect. I was going to need that course familiarity to make up for my lack of swimming and cycling training. Plus heading to Oregon would provide an opportunity to visit with family, see friends, and enjoy their ideal July weather. Christi and Sophie came along for the fun!

(Awaiting the start on a clear morning)My aged and dusty gear was clear evidence I was a "runner-faking-his-way-through-a-tri". The wetsuit was showing more wear from wakeboarding than swimming. My road bike, retrofitted with some left over aero bars, wasn't nearly the NASA-grade time trial machines that lined the T1 transition area. Even the battery on my power meter ran out, so it didn't even have a speedometer! The final straw was the body marking volunteer writing "41" on my calf to indicate my age. I don't usually have issues with my age, but it stole my breath to see a number starting with a 4 on my calf in permanent black ink for the first time. Team Geritol at your service. :-)

(These two were stoked to tackle their first Half Ironman)As the sun illuminated the diamond-shaped, 1.2 mile swim course on the reservoir, a group of elk peered from across the lake to see what the hub-bub was all about. I hung out with triathletes old and new along the starting ramp, and everyone was eager to soak up this perfect day that was scheduled to hit mid-80's by the afternoon. Wave by wave we eased into the chilly mountain water, and swam into the sun.

I was surprisingly comfortable by the first buoy, picking a line wide of the fast guys and finding a nice aerobic rhythm. Clearly the month I had squeezed in at the pool, thanks to stealing away during Sophie's swim lessons, had given me a base to work with. I was also trying the "lesson of threes" that I had picked up from some Ironman veterans who had given me some pointers on how to use a practice race to determine my best goal pace:

• Split the distance of each discipline into thirds
• Swim/bike/run the first third of the discipline at a pace slightly slower than your goal
• Take the middle section at your goal pace
• If you feel good, go a little harder on the last third.
• The goal is to save enough energy that you can be comfortable transitioning, then enter the run knowing you could run a marathon within 15% of a marathon best effort. For example, I should be able to come off the bike feeling like I could run a 3 hour marathon (15% off my marathon PR) if I gave it everything.
• If you don't feel good enough to do this, then you're going too fast too early in the game. This is where 5 minutes in the swim, or 15 minutes on the bike, could cost you an hour in the run when you're walking.

Just like Schoolhouse Rock says, "3 is a magic number"! I felt good at the second buoy, so I picked up the pace a bit, flashing a smile to the elk with each turn of my head. My gosh, this swim is...enjoyable!

(The finish line beacon that summons us)

I came out of the water feeling good, and at 38 minutes was oddly within 60 seconds of all three of my previous swim finishes. How weird is that? I guess all that running counts for something. The volunteers were amazing and got us out quickly, and I was glad to not have a 10 minute port-o-pottie stop like in 2004 (note - no matter how bad you have to go, take the wetsuit off BEFORE getting in a sun-drenched port-o-sauna).

The 58-mile bike (2 bonus miles!) is the crown jewel of this course, zooming down the Cascade Lakes highway before climbing up to Mt Bachelor and unleashing a 16-mile white knuckle descent. With no watch or power meter, I had no choice but to soak it all in and stick to my "lesson of threes" tempo. My pace felt fast, and I was grateful to have a pack of cyclists to work with. Even though we can't draft, we can help each other keep a rhythm (just like in ultras!).

(Getting a few cheers while zooming down the super-smooth highway)

(Mt. Bachelor is our final climb!)

On the final climb, all I could hear was lungs desperately grasping at the little oxygen that remained at 6,500 feet. This was the last third of the race, so I allowed myself to get out of the saddle and crank it up to the top. I passed about 30 riders, but many of them caught me within the first two miles of the descent. The advantage of a time trial bike and aero helmet was pretty clear once we got going fast.

(This is basically your view on the descent)

I tucked in and hung on, noting how much smoother this newly paved road is than previous years. Could this course be any more amazing?!? I felt like Chuck Yeager reaching the sound barrier as my freewheel hit a pitch only dogs could hear. As we took the last turn for the final 3-mile stretch to T2, my legs were thankful for the rest and felt ready to run. Then I got off the bike...ah, yes, the T2 shuffle! How soon we forget. The volunteers were awesome again, and one who saw my Inov-8 shirt yelled out splits for Western States. Gotta love the ultrarunners! He also let me know my bike split - 2:45 - which was fast for me indeed on this long and hilly course.

(Tri nerd coming through! Note the striped Injinji tsoks)

As sore as my legs were, it was nothing compared to my Western States brethren who were cutting through the canyons, so I cranked it up 'til it hurt (~6:30/mile pace). At that speed, it felt like I was passing everyone. I summarized there were two great benefits to ultra training prior to tri's - you are used to going fast on thrashed legs, and I was one of the few who thought a 90-minute run was "short". But I was forgetting my lesson of 3's, so I eased up to a 7:15/mile pace and chomped ice to stay cool.

The 13.1 mile run course feels like it's mostly downhill, and there were lots of spectators at every turn. Occasionally when I passed a triathlete, they would surge and stay with me, often blowing up a half mile later and slowing again. What was that all about? Most of the time I just trade the usual pleasantries of "looking good"s and "atta boy"s, but if it was a fit older guy showing a little grey, he dug deep. Then I figured it out - the age written on my calf! It was fellow age groupers making sure they didn't lose a podium spot in the final miles. Very impressive!

Before I knew it, I heard the cheers for the finish line and saw Sophie and her cousins hooting and hollering. It was a comfortable pace from end to end, and I had plenty left in the tank. I finished in 5:06 for 36th place and 8th in my age group, pleased that Ironman Hawaii was officially on the calendar now. We got some beer and sat in the shade, congratulating my Dad in his 2nd in age group finish in the half marathon.

(All smiles at the finish)

(Sophie shows off her new sunglasses in the finish chute)

(Okay, clearly I didn't go hard enough)

We spent the rest of the day hanging with friends and enjoying the weather, occasionally slying away to catch the live video feed of Western States on my iPhone4 (oooohhh, technolust so good!). I stood up and cheered for each finisher with more exubrance than the World Cup fans glued to the TV across the bar, and I wondered if the futballers thought this salty and tanned guy with the "41" on his calf was a bit crazy.

Probably true. But that's what too much sun, exercise, family, and good friends can do to you. ;-)

See you at the Death Ride!

- SD

Ultrarunner David Goggins to Be Featured on NBC Ironman Coverage This Saturday

Ultrarunner David Goggins, the Navy SEAL and "100 Mile Man", will be featured on the NBC coverage of the Ford Ironman World Championship this Saturday, Dec 13th, 2:30EST (check your local listings for times). Here's what the press kit said:

"David Goggins, a member of the NavySEALS, as well as an endurance athlete who has completed several ultramarathons. He races to raises money in honor of 11 military personnel who were killed in Afghanistan in 2005 - Goggins attended training school with four of them. He has raised nearly $300,000 for the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, which pays the college tuition for children of special-operations personnel killed in the line of duty."

I've heard that David is a nice guy, so I suspect he will do us ultrarunners proud. But his new Web site ups the ante of self-promotion to near-Karnazes levels, and I can't help but wonder if that's the best way to bring attention to his endurance achievements (which, to be honest, pale in comparison to his services to our country and need no promotion whatsoever). The Web site claims to that he "ranks him one of the Top 20 ultrarunners in the world", and his video starts by saying he is the "SICKEST endurance athlete in the world" complete with how many pull ups and sit ups he can do. Oh, my! It is impressive, but do you think this level of self-promotion is the best possible means?

I don't mean to nitpick or judge, since I don't really know the guy. I will say that one thing does sort of get my goose as an ultrarunner - it appears he doesn't like the sports he is participating in. According to the site, he got 2nd in the Ultraman (2x Ironman distance) on a rented bike with little training, and didn't really enjoy it. Completing the Ultraman is impressive, but is a lack of preperation really the horn you want to toot? Isn't that like me saying I did the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 in flip-flops? Perhaps highlighting that this isn't out of desire for the sport itself is to emphasize his drive for his chosen charity, which is admirable. But I couldn't help but think it was a lost opportunity to connect deeply with an audience of passionate people that could carry his message forward.

I'm doing some armchair critiquing here, but I don't mean to judge. I suspect there is a story here that I don't know, and there may be good reasons to make his claims in the manner he does. If David is able to get a few more folks to check out this ultrarunning thing, I'm sure the sport will be better for it. Certainly the Special Operations Warrior Foundation will too. I'm just curious what others think, so I will blog away. Honestly, it's a bit unfair to even raise the question without meeting him first. I'm hoping one of you has and can shed some light on the subject.

Regardless, I wish David the best in his pursuits and hope to have a chance to meet him in the future. If you would like to donate to the Special Operations Warrior Foundation, just click through on the link. I'll give Mr. Goggins this much - he's brought to my attention a very worthy cause. NBC will do this for millions more.

- SD

Tri'ing the Pacific Crest Half Ironman

Last weekend I had the pleasure of joining nearly 2,000 athletes for the Pacific Crest Endurance Weekend in Sunriver, OR.

<- Maia, the true triathlete of the family

This three day event had everything from 5k’s to Half Ironmans that weaved through the Sisters Wilderness, giving everyone a chance to get outside and enjoy the beautiful Oregon high desert. I met up with my extending family for a mini-family reunion, and we all enjoyed racing and watching others in the perfect 70 degree weather.

I chose to race the Half Ironman triathlon on Saturday, and was looking forward to “doing a tri” for the first time in years. My open water swimming skills were definitely lacking, and after witnessing the cycling accident on Sand Hill Road last month, I was too nervous on the bike to do long rides (btw, for those following along with this story, Debra has returned home from the hospital and is doing well on her recovery). But I figured I had a good foundation from all the running and could get through without too much trouble. One thing for sure – after all these ultras, the half marathon run was going to feel like a sprint!

The extended Dunlap clan were also signed up for many of the events, providing many opportunities to cheer. When I tallied it all up, here’s what we had on the schedule:

• My 7-year-old niece, Maia, was going to do the Splash/Pedal/Dash
• My father, Larry, was going to do the Olympic distance duathlon
• My step-mother, Sandie, would swim in an Olympic triathlon relay along with my step-sister, Jill (run) and her husband, Mike (bike)
• My mother, Diane, was tackling the 5k after a two-year recovery from heart surgery
• Christi, Sophie, Rocky, Maia, and I would join Diane for the 5k, along with Christi’s brother (Scott), his wife (Erica), and their 2 and half year old twin boys (Cannon and Carson)

Whew! Needless to say, there was someone to cheer for every day!

Maia was first, tackling the Splash/Pedal/Dash like a pro on Friday. Over 150 kids took on the water slide, 1 mile bike, and quarter mile run. As they were sent off two at a time on the chip-marked course, parents circled in a frenzy to cheer them on and take pictures. I was very impressed with how kids as young as five years old did all three sports with almost no help. Maia was great, even kicking it into overdrive for the run! So many budding triathletes. We celebrated like kings that night, eating BBQ and drinking beer until the wee hours. I had so much fun celebrating, I almost forgot I had a Half Ironman the next day!

(Maia swims, bikes, and runs!)

The next morning, my brother, Mike, drove me out to Wickiup Resevoir on a beautiful morning and we tried to estimate my splits so the family would know when to look for me. I hadn’t done an open water swim in years (and had a brand new wet suit to prove it), and I was still burping ribs and beer from the night before, so I figured 40 minutes for the swim. The bike course had changed this year and didn’t have the big climb around Mt. Bachelor, so I thought maybe 2:45 for the bike. The run would largely depend on how the bike went, but I had never run faster than a 1:40 in a Half Iron, so that was a good stretch goal. Overall my stretch goal would be under 5 hours, but 5:20 would be most likely.

(The swim start at Wickiup Reservoir)

I hustled up to my wave just in time for the start, and we were off! The water was cold (~60 degrees), but quite pleasant. I found a rhythm at the back of the back, but continued to burp up a storm (note to self – baby back ribs do not make the best pre-race meal). When the wave behind us caught up, they rolled over me like a speed bump, pulling off my goggles and forcing me to take a quick break to get them back on. I didn’t get too angry – this was the Pacific Northwest Championships after all, so the front-runners were giving it all they had. Another wave caught us as I hit the halfway point, but they were all in a line like a Tour de France peleton. We let the convoy by and did our best to pull into their slipstream. Before I knew it, the swim finish was in sight.

I dashed out of the water and immediately into the port-o-pottie. Those baby back ribs were tearing through me like frayed rope. No worries – I’m sure there would be plenty of port-o-potties along the way. I got my bike gear on, slapped on some sunscreen, and gave my brother a high five as I headed out. The swim took 38 minutes, but the 10 minute T1 had thrown me off my pace.

The day warmed up quickly as we all headed out on the bike. I had on a Sugoi tri outfit that ventilated nicely (Christi calls it the “super hero suit” thanks to the metallic blue stripes). Most of the roads had nice big shoulders to ride on and sparse traffic, but I noticed that my heart would jump when the big trucks went by. I seemed to be the only one though – all the other riders were barreling down the highway in full aero position. I stayed down in my aero bars as much as possible, and kept my power meter on 220 watts. At the half way point, I was averaging 22.5 mph, which was projecting a very fast 2:30 bike split.

(Biking towards Mt. Bachelor along the Cascade Lakes Highway)

The scenery was amazing, as we raced past the Cascade Lakes and through endless hills of pines. I did my best to take a pic, but it turns out that isn’t very safe on the bike (whoa!). My legs felt tired around mile 45, reminding me that I hadn’t done many long rides this year. But I stayed in my pack, and finished up in 2:33. With a not-so-quick change into a new shirt and shoes (and yes, one more port-o-pottie stop), I headed out on the run.

The Dunlap clan was there to cheer me on, led by Maia in her new bright red Flamenco dress. With a round of high fives, I set down the course on a 7-min mile pace. My quads were a bit tight, but the run felt very natural. One of the best parts of being a runner is that you’re one of the few people smiling on the last leg!

(Running in the pines; photo courtesy of Christi Dunlap)

One thing I quickly noted about triathletes is that they seem to be more competitive than the ultra runners. If I came up on somebody from my age group (who were everywhere – when is that going to stop?), they would prefer to surge than chat. In fact, nearly all of my humble attempts at starting conversation with “isn’t this a great day?” were met with grimaces of disdain. The few who answered back were often ultrarunners! That’s okay – to each their own.

It felt like I barely had enough time to soak in the wetlands and river area behind the resort when the aid station attendants were shouting “2 miles to go”. I hit one more port-o-pottie (oh Lord, let this be the last) and kept up the speed to finish a 1:38 run leg, good for 5:01:36 and 70th place. I was WAY off the winning pace (sub 4 hour - those guys are FAST!), but was feeling good enough for beer and pasta at the end.

(Bringing it in to the finish; photo courtesy of Christi Dunlap)

After a night of more food, family, and fun, we all gathered along the course to cheer on my Dad in his duathlon, and the family relay. All did very well, with my Dad winning his age group in the duathlon, and the relay team exceeding their expectations. The true hero of this race was my Step-Mom, Sandie. She is legally blind, but still managed to clock an impressive time on the swim course, even in a wetsuit she had never tried before. Given how little I could see during the swim, I have no idea how she did that!

(Larry Dunlap, my Dad, wins the 60-64 age group Olympic duathlon)

(Mike Barnebey, Jill Barnebey, and Sandie Dunlap ace the Olympic relay)

The 5k was also very special. My Mom had been using this 5k walk as a stretch goal for recovering from some new stents put in just two years ago. Like many heart-related procedures, the first year of her recovery involved juggling rehab, short exercise, and a medical cocktail that severely restricted her. She couldn’t travel, walk long distances, or anything. The only way out was a lot of hard work on her behalf – the kind that makes my training seem easy – and a big goal to work towards. I was very proud of her just for making it to the start!

(My Mom, Christi, Sophie, and Erica at the start of the 5k)

I will let my Mom describe the 5k:

Coming in Last

By Diane Dunlap

After a long decline in health that finally led to heart surgery two years ago, last year I had struggled to walk from where the suv was parked to Scott’s swim/bike transition point at this same event. Any thought of walking a mile or a 5k was out of the question. Last year, I was still working my way back to 10,000 step days and cardiac capacity that would let me do any aerobic work. This year, I had another year of training and recovery behind me, and I was ready to try for a new record.

So, on Sunday morning, eleven of us (and Rocky!) lined up near the back of the 5k pack with the other walkers. The race started, the runners off into the 80 degree day on the pine-lined walking and bike paths, followed by the walkers. It took less than two minutes for all of the family and the other walkers to slowly begin to pull away from me. All but Jim Stott, my partner, who had decided to walk with me, just to make sure I was ok. Gotta love him! He’s not a runner—that was his first race ever. It must be love—he strapped on his lawn-mowing Keds and insisted on keeping me company. Then, Scott dropped back to join us—bless his heart! He commented, “I’ve never been last in a race—wonder what it’s like” before spending the next hour entertaining me as only he can. It must have seemed like a glacial pace to him, but he just kept making me laugh and distracting me from the accumulating miles.

So, what is it like to finish last? Well, first I kept moving over on the path and then trying to speed up because there was a car on my heels. I finally turned around to see what the crazy driver was doing, and saw that it was the local police cruiser, and I really was the last person in the 5k! He waved to us when we left the road to go onto the paths.

For awhile, we walked with a nice woman who said she always came in last in this race, but then she “zoomed” ahead when I had to slow down on 1% and 2% inclines. At about the 1 ½ mile mark, 26-year-old Kristopher Houghton of Albuquerque zipped past us on his way to a 32:29 finish in the 10k. By the time we rounded the last turn in the woods and headed toward the sounds of cheering in front of us, we were lapped by two other 10k finishers. I began to have images of the tortoise and the hare! I felt like I was going really fast and long, compared to my prior times, but I was feeling pretty “tortoise-y” in this company!

Volunteers cheered me on at the aid stations, even as they asked if we were the last ones and began to close up their tables. Several people out for a stroll on a beautiful morning suddenly realized, “Oh, you’re in the race!” and moved over, clapping as we “sped” by. Little children ran up on the path and ran around us laughing and hitting “high fives.” When we came to the final turn into the finish gate, the crowd cheered as loudly for us as they did for the duathlon runners who were also starting to come in. I felt like a real athlete as our names were called through the electronic monitor, the announcer said “great finish” and we were shunted into the 5k finish corral.

I found out another part of finishing last—they were out of 5k medals! Doesn’t pay to come in last if you want a medal! But, they took our numbers and promised to send one in the mail. We stepped out of the finishers’ tent into the sunshine and found our family members—already rested up because I took so much longer than they did! I also found that woman who always finished last, who thanked me for doing the honors this year!

So, I completed my 5k in just over an hour, last but for my partner and son who pushed me across the finish line ahead of them. I came in 234th out of 235—I guess someone didn’t finish. I was tenth in my age group! Oh yeah, there were ten in my age group. Didn’t set any records, didn’t make the local news, didn’t get a medal, but I’ve never been prouder of me in my life!

So, I’m thinking next year, maybe I’ll aim for last in the 10k, or the ½ marathon, or maybe even the marathon. You know, the possibilities may be endless!

(That's it, Mom, I'm signing you up for the tri next year! - SD)

Pacific Crest 1/2 Ironman, June, 2004

I returned to Bend, OR, to join my father in racing Pacific Crest, a great “endurance weekend” in central Oregon. This three day extravaganza has something for everyone, including runs, duathlons, all the way up to a ½ Ironman triathlon. My father favors the Olympic duathlon where he is the defending 60-64 age group champion, whereas I’m going for the ½ Ironman triathlon. My niece isn’t quite old enough to join the twelve and under events, but they sure look like fun. If you have a lot of friends or family that like to cheer you on and have been tempted to try something short of a triathlon, this is a great place for them to try out an event or two.

Bend, OR is a great location for a triathlon – the swim is a mellow reservoir loop, and the bike course rolls by the Cascade Lakes and climbs up and around Mt. Bachelor, ending in a 16 mile descent that leaves your legs rested for the run around Sunriver Resort. Bend, OR, is still ridiculously cheap too – we got a 3-bedroom house to rent for $109/night, complete with hot tub, just a few blocks from the starting line. Most of the booking agents will give you a decent price, but if they tell you there’s a “three night minimum”, it’s BS. Just keep calling around. Sunriver is self-sufficient, and also has horseback riding, golfing, kayaking, and a full mall. All-in-all a great place to stay.

I hadn’t done much on my bike since the last triathlon, thanks to all the trail running. That meant I got a bit lazy about bike maintenance and didn’t go through my usual checks, assuming the bike was still in racing condition. I realized how dumb this was when I exited the water to find my front tire flat (oops). The volunteers were nice enough to take 10 minutes to put on my back-up tubeless tire and get it pumped up to 110 psi, which was about 60% of what it needed, but enough to get me going. What I didn’t realize was that the spare wasn’t glued on…until I turned into the first corner and wiped out as the tire peeled off. Luckily I recovered nicely since I had gotten a 10 minute rest waiting on the tire, and only had a few minor scrapes after visiting the ditch on the side of the road. As I pulled my tire back on, I faced the ultimate dilemma – should I keep going on a half-inflated tire that I can’t corner on, knowing it’s going to slow me down significantly and leave me exhausted by the run? Or should I just call it a good swim and pack up and meet Christi for some pancakes?

I figured, what the hell. No sense in racking up the first DNF. About 20 miles into the bike, a really nice guy in his 50’s passed me and said “you know, you would go a lot faster if your tire was inflated all the way”. I explained my fiasco, and lack of a portable pump that could handle 200 psi. He replied with a solution – “my son has a bike shop, and he will be at mile 25 in a big red Hummer with all his gear…I’ll ride ahead and tell him to be ready for you”. How nice! Sure enough, as promised a big red Hummer flagged me down and they “Nascar pit-stopped me” and got me back on the road in less than two minutes. At 200 psi, I was rolling much faster, and soon passed my guardian angel who cheered me on. My bike split was atrocious, but I ran a 1:35 half marathon to make up for it and finished in about 5:38. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers!

My dad had a similar mishap. Unfamiliar with the course, he started pacing his bike off a group of riders in front of him with numbers painted on their calves. About an hour later, a cop on a motorcycle pulled him over and told him the people he was following had raced the previous day (thus the calf markings), and today were out on a joy ride….well off the duathlon course! He took it in stride, and still finished well (although he had to give up his title…alas). We had a good time telling our stories over pizza and beer. Mistakes are far more enjoyable after you’re done.

With this race done, I put the bike away for the rest of the season to focus on the trail running.

The World's Toughest 1/2 Ironman? You BET!

April 18th, Christi and I drove to Auburn, CA for the World's Toughest 1/2 Ironman. With a name like that, you don't expect a nice flat course, and I wasn't disappointed - 6,400' vertical on the bike, another 3,000' on the trail run half marathon. And to top it off, we got to swim our way through sub-55 degree water to start. You know when they are handing out mandatory neoprene caps, it's gonna be C-C-C-COLD! I've tried a lot of triathlons (Escape from Alcatraz, Big Kahuna, Hawaii, Pacific Crest, Wildflower, etc), and this one is the most bad ass around.

With triathlons greats like the DeBooms out in front, the rest of us could take our time and try to get the feeling in our extremeties back (I did finally feel my toes about mile 3 of the run). Still, it was the most challenging course I have ever seen. You can't really complain when the title is "World's Toughest", I mean, it's not like you weren't warned. The bike was hilly with lots of canyon descents and climbs, and the run was challenging, covering sections of the famed Western States 100 course. I finished near the end of the pack in about six hours, and had a great time.

I felt really strong on the run, and I think it was largely a mental boost from finishing that marathon a few weeks previous. I signed up for the Park City Marathon in a few more weeks to try another marathon, this time a trail/road mix. Again, I understand this isn't the best training method (let the flame comments begin), but I'm trying to fit in as much as possible for the Trail Runner Magazine Trophy Series.

Honey of a sun burn on this event too, btw. As soon as you think you're the pro, another rookie move comes along to remind you. ;oP