Tuesday: I spent the better part of my morning negotiating the price of a scooter down to just $8 a day. It's the little things in life that count, like saving a few bucks on an outdated piece of dangerous machinery. Jessa and I are now like Lloyd and Harry from Dumb and Dumber, except Harry is pregnant and Lloyd is attempting to speak Thai to the natives.
Tuesday evening, we went out for Thai dinner and massage. Our Thai restaurant served fabulous cuisine, but we happened to be the *only* people in the restaurant, so we goofed the entire time. I'm sure our friendly waitstaff was convinced we were drunk Americans that had just polished off a few cases of Singha. Here are a couple of our food critique videos:
The massage experience was interesting to say the least. Since Jessa is pregnant, she opted for a foot massage and I went for the traditional Thai massage. I just don't see how they can spend an hour on your feet only. Hell, if I'm going to have a 1 hour foot massage, they better power-wash, hair-pluck, nail-paint and heel-shine for me to get my money's worth.
So anyways, my personal massage therapist got about halfway up my hamstrings, then leaned over and asked me if I wanted a "happy ending". I'm pretty sure by happy ending that she didn't mean a lollipop or free sticker, like my happy ending at the dentist. I think she was surprised when I said no, because I don't think they get that response much. She actually left the room, then came back to finish the last half of the massage. Maybe she had to ask permission to do a normal, clean, healthy routine. In the end, they actually gave me a 15% discount. That's all the happy ending I need.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Smile for the camera
Not that you don't *want* to hear about every subtle nuance of our 17 hour flight to Phuket, Thailand, but I'm jet-lagged, sleepy, and have a million very important things I want to do (meaning I'm going to go find some good shrimp pad thai as soon as I finish this post, then go sit on the beach and read a book).
So I'm going to write this blog in "pictures" with captions underneath. For those of you who have ADD, like pop-up books, are dyslexic, have bad eyesight, or just don't like to read, what a goldmine this blog posting will be. For the rest of you, TOUGH LUCK because I'm not going to type any more than I have to today. ;)
My lovely wife. News flash: if you haven't heard, there's two lovely little twin boys inside!
I know it's sideways. Cock your head. That's me eating an unidentified meaty object at the Seoul, Korea airport.
Breakfast, at our resort in Phuket. Getting the feeling that I eat alot when I'm on vacation? Highlight of this breakfast was the painfully spicy fish sauce I put on my chinese chicken porridge. Please pass the mouthwash.
Looking out over the lagoon from our resort.
Feeding YumYum, the baby elephant hanging out in the hotel lobby.
My hot pregnant wife, gettin' jiggy wit a frog.
Lounging in the resort lobby.
Cheers, I promise I'll say more words next time...we're off to Phuket town tomorrow for a Thai cooking class! I'm going to make my speciality, the Oops I Cut My Finger Pad Thai.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Clearwater Race Report
I awoke on Saturday morning after an interesting night's sleep on Dr. Pearce's hotel room floor. As the medical director for the World Championships, he actually had to head down to the race before me, so the alarms were blaring at 5am.
The night before the race, I was very nervous because my right calf *really* hurt bad. For the first time in 2 weeks, I ran that day for 15 minutes on the road, and it felt like I did some serious damage. I iced, iced, iced, but on race morning, as soon as I stood up, I groaned, because the left peroneal tendonitis hurt and the calf hurt. The back was very tight still, but the pain, in the past 48 hours, had subsided.
I contemplated not racing. I just wanted to go back to bed, really. I've never been this "non-pumped" for a race. But I went to the vending machine in the hotel and filled a couple bags with ice, then sat watching Fox News until about 6am with ice bags on my foot and calf. I then rubbed Arnica and Hammer Balm into the affected areas and self-massaged both injuries for 10 minutes. They still hurt, but if I was going to race, I really had to get going down to transition, so I put on my sweatshirt and warm pants (atypically cold in Florida rightnow), listened to Kanye West's "Stronger" song (namely the phrase that says "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger", ate 2 sweet potatoes, and headed out. My right calf was tightly wrapped in an ace bandage.
My plan was to take my custom orthotic for my left foot, that I've only been using in my running shoes, and actually use it during the entire race, transferring it from the bike shoe to the run shoe during transition. I'd never done this in training, but it was a last ditch desparate effort to try to alleviate some of the left foot pain. This made transition a little tricky.
Conveniently, our hotel was literally *on top* of the beach where the race started, so all I had to do was walk downstairs, as bike check-in was the day prior. Technically, the race started at 7am, with my heat being the last wave at 8am (which affected the race quite significantly, as you'll read). Transition closed at 6:45, so I had to have all my pre-race prep done by then, then basically sit around in my wetsuit for an hour, waiting to race.
This venue was huge. The air was buzzing with tension and excitement. I believe 1600 athletes raced, and they were spread out over the beach in multiple colored caps, waiting for their wave to start. As this was the World Championships, there were 52 countries represented, and multiple dialects being spoken all at once. You could barely hear yourself think. The entire race transition and finish line area covers 4 blocks of the city, so it's pretty bigtime.
I reluctantly headed down to the water as our wave was called, not really wanting to be there. My plan at this point was to swim my perverbial ass off, then probably withdraw from the race. This was how I felt inside, but I was really trying to put on a strong face and not look intimidated or weak. *Please* quit hurting I kept telling my foot and calf, *please* God let me just be pain-free for the next few hours.
We couldn't get in the water, so I did "shadow swimming" as I waited, standing alone on the beach in my wetsuit, trying to block everything out.
Finally they lined us up. There were 143 athletes in my division, and some very fast European looking dudes. We stood motionless on the beach for what seemed like hours as the announcer introduced our division over the loudspeakers. Finally, they called out 60 seconds to the cannon boom start.
This was going to be a running beach start, with a 40 yard sprint before you get to the water. As you lean forward onto your toes and await the cannon boom, it feels like you are in a some kind of midieval battle waiting to rush the enemy. The breathing becomes short and shallow. The heart races. The fingers tingle. Every sense of your body is on fire, super-tense, hyper-alert. I am addicted to this feeling and love this type of race start. I live for that moment, just *waiting* to attack. It is true when you watch a movie like Braveheart and you see the guys in the front line urinating themselves, because it is a natural reaction to the pre-battle tension. I always pee in my wetsuit prior to a running beach start. Strange but true.
BOOM. Everything goes quiet and you're just running. Suddenly you have complete tunnel vision. Straight ahead focus. The swim goes by fast. Stroke, breathe, stroke, breath. The muscles are on fire within 3-4 minutes, and they maintain an enormous burn for the next 30 minutes.
About halfway through the swim is where it got messy and stayed messy. We ran into the back of the wave that started 5 minutes prior to them. We swam over their bodies. You feel bad, but they're in your way and they're swimming slow. Then we ran into the next wave. And the next. I did not draft in this swim. I towed from what I could tell 3 or 4 other racers in my draft for the first half, but things just fell apart when we started swimming up onto the slower waves. You can't draft because you're weaving side to side trying to get through people.
I came out of the 1.2 mile swim in 27:48 and hit the beach. Running through transition hurt, but I didn't care. I forgot about my plan to quit after the swim. I got on my bike like a madman and hit the pavement. The bike was a complete cluster. Crashes everywhere, orange cones flying as people hit them, bikes sliding into each other. It was the same as the swim, really. Just riding *through* people the whole time. Flat and windy, but a fast course. If I come back to this race, I don't even know if I'll bring my triathlon bike. I may just bring a road bike with better handling. I was only in my aerobars for maybe 30% of the entire race. I averaged 25.64 miles per hour and finished the bike in 2:11:02.
My foot hurt during the entire bike, but I think the orthotic helped me a little. Today my foot is sore is a *different* spot, probably because I never trained on the bike with an orthotic, then went out and hammered 56 miles. I drank 260 calories of Perpetuum every hour on the bike, and also consumed 1 gel.
The run, just like the rest of the race, was full of people the entire time. I cannot express how much my body hurt during the run. i thought my legs were going to fall off. Not because I was running incredibly fast (I actually had to hold back and I think I could have run closer to a 1:18 on this course), but because my foot and calf hurt so teribbly, horribly bad. I just tried to block it out. I kept counting to 20, over and over again, telling myself just a few more steps and then you'll have to start walking. But I just never really stopped. Dr. Pearce said on that morning as he left the hotel room that it was, after all, the last really important race of the season and I would have some time to heal if I injured myself, so I should just push through it. So I did.
The run was a 1:26 and my pace averaged a 6:38 mile. The finish line came up quicker than I expected and I wasn't able to wave at the crowd too much or even flash the smiles that I like to display at the finish because I ran around a corner and the finish was *right there*. I should have been paying more attention!
My overall time was a 4:10:54. I was 12th in the world for my age group and 77th in the world overall. I'm happy with that. I guarantee you one thing: if I had not been injured, I would have been on the podium. I think I could have biked slightly faster and run much faster, and probably ahd closer to a 4:00 split. I had the fitness to do it. I will do it. Just stay tuned.
My body hurts today. Much. But you know, that's what I love about this sport. If it was easy, everybody could do it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger baby.
The night before the race, I was very nervous because my right calf *really* hurt bad. For the first time in 2 weeks, I ran that day for 15 minutes on the road, and it felt like I did some serious damage. I iced, iced, iced, but on race morning, as soon as I stood up, I groaned, because the left peroneal tendonitis hurt and the calf hurt. The back was very tight still, but the pain, in the past 48 hours, had subsided.
I contemplated not racing. I just wanted to go back to bed, really. I've never been this "non-pumped" for a race. But I went to the vending machine in the hotel and filled a couple bags with ice, then sat watching Fox News until about 6am with ice bags on my foot and calf. I then rubbed Arnica and Hammer Balm into the affected areas and self-massaged both injuries for 10 minutes. They still hurt, but if I was going to race, I really had to get going down to transition, so I put on my sweatshirt and warm pants (atypically cold in Florida rightnow), listened to Kanye West's "Stronger" song (namely the phrase that says "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger", ate 2 sweet potatoes, and headed out. My right calf was tightly wrapped in an ace bandage.
My plan was to take my custom orthotic for my left foot, that I've only been using in my running shoes, and actually use it during the entire race, transferring it from the bike shoe to the run shoe during transition. I'd never done this in training, but it was a last ditch desparate effort to try to alleviate some of the left foot pain. This made transition a little tricky.
Conveniently, our hotel was literally *on top* of the beach where the race started, so all I had to do was walk downstairs, as bike check-in was the day prior. Technically, the race started at 7am, with my heat being the last wave at 8am (which affected the race quite significantly, as you'll read). Transition closed at 6:45, so I had to have all my pre-race prep done by then, then basically sit around in my wetsuit for an hour, waiting to race.
This venue was huge. The air was buzzing with tension and excitement. I believe 1600 athletes raced, and they were spread out over the beach in multiple colored caps, waiting for their wave to start. As this was the World Championships, there were 52 countries represented, and multiple dialects being spoken all at once. You could barely hear yourself think. The entire race transition and finish line area covers 4 blocks of the city, so it's pretty bigtime.
I reluctantly headed down to the water as our wave was called, not really wanting to be there. My plan at this point was to swim my perverbial ass off, then probably withdraw from the race. This was how I felt inside, but I was really trying to put on a strong face and not look intimidated or weak. *Please* quit hurting I kept telling my foot and calf, *please* God let me just be pain-free for the next few hours.
We couldn't get in the water, so I did "shadow swimming" as I waited, standing alone on the beach in my wetsuit, trying to block everything out.
Finally they lined us up. There were 143 athletes in my division, and some very fast European looking dudes. We stood motionless on the beach for what seemed like hours as the announcer introduced our division over the loudspeakers. Finally, they called out 60 seconds to the cannon boom start.
This was going to be a running beach start, with a 40 yard sprint before you get to the water. As you lean forward onto your toes and await the cannon boom, it feels like you are in a some kind of midieval battle waiting to rush the enemy. The breathing becomes short and shallow. The heart races. The fingers tingle. Every sense of your body is on fire, super-tense, hyper-alert. I am addicted to this feeling and love this type of race start. I live for that moment, just *waiting* to attack. It is true when you watch a movie like Braveheart and you see the guys in the front line urinating themselves, because it is a natural reaction to the pre-battle tension. I always pee in my wetsuit prior to a running beach start. Strange but true.
BOOM. Everything goes quiet and you're just running. Suddenly you have complete tunnel vision. Straight ahead focus. The swim goes by fast. Stroke, breathe, stroke, breath. The muscles are on fire within 3-4 minutes, and they maintain an enormous burn for the next 30 minutes.
About halfway through the swim is where it got messy and stayed messy. We ran into the back of the wave that started 5 minutes prior to them. We swam over their bodies. You feel bad, but they're in your way and they're swimming slow. Then we ran into the next wave. And the next. I did not draft in this swim. I towed from what I could tell 3 or 4 other racers in my draft for the first half, but things just fell apart when we started swimming up onto the slower waves. You can't draft because you're weaving side to side trying to get through people.
I came out of the 1.2 mile swim in 27:48 and hit the beach. Running through transition hurt, but I didn't care. I forgot about my plan to quit after the swim. I got on my bike like a madman and hit the pavement. The bike was a complete cluster. Crashes everywhere, orange cones flying as people hit them, bikes sliding into each other. It was the same as the swim, really. Just riding *through* people the whole time. Flat and windy, but a fast course. If I come back to this race, I don't even know if I'll bring my triathlon bike. I may just bring a road bike with better handling. I was only in my aerobars for maybe 30% of the entire race. I averaged 25.64 miles per hour and finished the bike in 2:11:02.
My foot hurt during the entire bike, but I think the orthotic helped me a little. Today my foot is sore is a *different* spot, probably because I never trained on the bike with an orthotic, then went out and hammered 56 miles. I drank 260 calories of Perpetuum every hour on the bike, and also consumed 1 gel.
The run, just like the rest of the race, was full of people the entire time. I cannot express how much my body hurt during the run. i thought my legs were going to fall off. Not because I was running incredibly fast (I actually had to hold back and I think I could have run closer to a 1:18 on this course), but because my foot and calf hurt so teribbly, horribly bad. I just tried to block it out. I kept counting to 20, over and over again, telling myself just a few more steps and then you'll have to start walking. But I just never really stopped. Dr. Pearce said on that morning as he left the hotel room that it was, after all, the last really important race of the season and I would have some time to heal if I injured myself, so I should just push through it. So I did.
The run was a 1:26 and my pace averaged a 6:38 mile. The finish line came up quicker than I expected and I wasn't able to wave at the crowd too much or even flash the smiles that I like to display at the finish because I ran around a corner and the finish was *right there*. I should have been paying more attention!
My overall time was a 4:10:54. I was 12th in the world for my age group and 77th in the world overall. I'm happy with that. I guarantee you one thing: if I had not been injured, I would have been on the podium. I think I could have biked slightly faster and run much faster, and probably ahd closer to a 4:00 split. I had the fitness to do it. I will do it. Just stay tuned.
My body hurts today. Much. But you know, that's what I love about this sport. If it was easy, everybody could do it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger baby.
I survived...
I'll post a race report later today or tomorrow....8am Sunday morning....just woke up...exhausted...going back to bed, goodnight.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Clearwater Race Plan
Dear reader, promise you won't steal my strategy and beat me someday.
-pre-race breakfast at 6am (my wave begins at 8am). After breakfast head down to body marking.
-swim: it will be a small pack in this 1.2 miler. In a race with this much potential bike drafting, it is important to have a quick swim. In these rough conditions I will be going out hard with a very high stroke cadence (due to waves) and trying to sit on the legs of the lead pack. I hope to come out in the top 15% of the field in the swim. I'll push very hard on the swim, because in the presence of the injuries, it is the aspect of my training that has been best the past few weeks.
-bike: i'll split the bike into 5 portions and consume 5 scoops of perpetuum split into 8 minute 1oz fueling cycles, and 1 e cap every 15 minutes. Avg speed goal: 24.8-25.2
1) Transition to Drew St turn: try and stay with the fastest lead group
2) Down Drew St., all the way to Landsbrook Parkway turnaround, settle into a rhythm, see what the packs are pushing for pace. Realize I may need to race outside myself to stay with the leaders.
3) Landsbrook to Park Blvd. LONG stretch. Stay at a high cadence. Stay very aero. F-O-C-U-S.
4) Turn at Park Blvd down Belcher st to Gulf/Bay blvd turn: don't blow up. If legs start to feel rubbery, back off a bit.
5) Gulf to Bay blvd back to T1. Spin, prepare for run.
Run: I'll have one gel flask with 400 calories (extra calories just in case my injured foot forces me to run slow). Run half marathon goal: 1:24-1:27. Be shooting for 7 minute miles on the first loop of the run, then I'll open up to whatever I'm capable of after that. Hopefully 6:15 on down.
The run is just three portions: 1) the first loop. 2) the second loop all the way to causeway blvd. 3) causeway blvd to the finish line. I'll be almost halfway thru my gel flask after the first loop, and have 1 serving left coming onto causeway blvd. If I'm in a footrace for the podium, I may not have time to squeeze the last bit of nutrition in, but it's extra so I probably won't need it. I'll be carrying endurolyte caps during the run, and will take 1 every other aid station.
We'll see how it goes.
Ben
-pre-race breakfast at 6am (my wave begins at 8am). After breakfast head down to body marking.
-swim: it will be a small pack in this 1.2 miler. In a race with this much potential bike drafting, it is important to have a quick swim. In these rough conditions I will be going out hard with a very high stroke cadence (due to waves) and trying to sit on the legs of the lead pack. I hope to come out in the top 15% of the field in the swim. I'll push very hard on the swim, because in the presence of the injuries, it is the aspect of my training that has been best the past few weeks.
-bike: i'll split the bike into 5 portions and consume 5 scoops of perpetuum split into 8 minute 1oz fueling cycles, and 1 e cap every 15 minutes. Avg speed goal: 24.8-25.2
1) Transition to Drew St turn: try and stay with the fastest lead group
2) Down Drew St., all the way to Landsbrook Parkway turnaround, settle into a rhythm, see what the packs are pushing for pace. Realize I may need to race outside myself to stay with the leaders.
3) Landsbrook to Park Blvd. LONG stretch. Stay at a high cadence. Stay very aero. F-O-C-U-S.
4) Turn at Park Blvd down Belcher st to Gulf/Bay blvd turn: don't blow up. If legs start to feel rubbery, back off a bit.
5) Gulf to Bay blvd back to T1. Spin, prepare for run.
Run: I'll have one gel flask with 400 calories (extra calories just in case my injured foot forces me to run slow). Run half marathon goal: 1:24-1:27. Be shooting for 7 minute miles on the first loop of the run, then I'll open up to whatever I'm capable of after that. Hopefully 6:15 on down.
The run is just three portions: 1) the first loop. 2) the second loop all the way to causeway blvd. 3) causeway blvd to the finish line. I'll be almost halfway thru my gel flask after the first loop, and have 1 serving left coming onto causeway blvd. If I'm in a footrace for the podium, I may not have time to squeeze the last bit of nutrition in, but it's extra so I probably won't need it. I'll be carrying endurolyte caps during the run, and will take 1 every other aid station.
We'll see how it goes.
Ben
Do As I Say....
-Drove up to Clearwater yesterday just in time to hop in the water for the Gatorade morning swim. This means that all the athletes line up, drink as much Gatorade as possible, then jump into the ocean and swim the course following their energy drink chug-fest. The athlete who doesn't pass out, throw up, or die is the winner. No, actually, it means that the kind folks from Gatorade, bless their hearts, watch our backpacks while we swim. Am I doing Gatorade penance from a previous post? Perhaps...
-The swim was way choppy. And cold. Very tough water - worse than Ironman Coeur D' Alene. And I'm out there in my Blue Seventy Point Zero 3 Skinsuit, looking at all the other athletes wearing wetsuits. I'm the only guy not in a wetsuit, as a matter of fact. Could this race be wetsuit legal? Could it be that I should not have left my wetsuit hanging in my closet at home? Oh, crap.
-"Hi Jessa, this is Ben. Would you mind doing your husband a huge favor? QUICK GO HOME AND GET MY WETSUIT AND FED EX IT OVERNIGHT AND THROW MY ELECTROLYTE PILLS IN THERE AND ANYTHING ELSE I FORGOT I LOVE YOU BYE!"
-So rather than driving back up to Clearwater this morning to take part in pre-race meetings and to check out the water again, I'm hanging out at my cousin's place until the wetsuit package arrives at 3pm. To all the athletes out there that I coach, let me say one thing...Do As I Say and Not As I Do.
;)
Pre-race dinner and celebration was fantastic, with the flags of 50 countries parading through dinner, tasty lasagna and Greek salad, a smooth reggae band, and great on stage entertainment. Everyone was decked out in winter coats, hoodies, and long pants because there is an atypical cold front moving through Florida rightnow. I'm looking forward to making some snow angels before the race, or maybe having a cup of hot chocolate and making a snowman.
Body still hurts today, back, ankle, same old story. I've been resting it hard. So if anyone out there would like to join me for Celebrex Cocktails on Saturday morning, meet me on the beach.
Tomorrow is the big day. Track it on ironmanlive.com and look for an update on my blog on Saturday night or Sunday morning..
Ciao,
Ben
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Floating Hotel
I have officially arrived in Florida and I am staying...
...on my cousin's boat...
...parked out behind his condo...
..the boat's name is "Silly Jilly"...
...and here are pictures...
Awesome! I actually had a pretty good night's sleep, and caught some tasty fish for breakfast. No, just kidding. Anyways, I'm heading up to Clearwater (from Bradenton) in a few minutes to check out the water. It's about an hour away, so on Friday night, I'm staying with Dr. Pearce (the medical director for the race) at the host hotel, which is literally just smack on top of the swim start.
My body still feels beat up, but what the heck, I'm in Florida.
...on my cousin's boat...
...parked out behind his condo...
..the boat's name is "Silly Jilly"...
...and here are pictures...
Awesome! I actually had a pretty good night's sleep, and caught some tasty fish for breakfast. No, just kidding. Anyways, I'm heading up to Clearwater (from Bradenton) in a few minutes to check out the water. It's about an hour away, so on Friday night, I'm staying with Dr. Pearce (the medical director for the race) at the host hotel, which is literally just smack on top of the swim start.
My body still feels beat up, but what the heck, I'm in Florida.
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