Wildflower Half-Ironman Course Race Report, Lake San Antonio CA (updated video)



Friday 4/11
It's amazing all the gear you need for a triathlon, especially one in which you're camping for three days. So after hours of packing, checking and rechecking my race gear, nutrition, camp gear and other miscellaneous items, we headed down to Lake San Antonio for our Half Ironman distance practice triathlon on the world famous Wildflower course.

Lake San Antonio is about a 3:30 hour drive south from Benicia through Gilroy and Salinas, and north of San Luis Obispo. Wildflower is known as the Woodstock of triathlons and on race weekend about 7,000 people cram into a state park for three days of racing, camping and fun. It's one of the hardest Half-Ironman Races in America, an extremely challenging, hilly course. About 250 Team In Training triathletes would be there, from Redwood Wine Country (my team), Silicon Valley, Monterey/Santa Cruz and Orange County. Since we would do our practice race three weeks before the 'Official' race, we'll practically have the whole campgrounds to ourselves. Arriving in the afternoon, we quickly found our teammates and set up camp. There are already dozens of tents set-up, with a bunch of hardbodies getting gear out of their cars and $5000 tri-bikes off their roof racks.

After settling in, the team had a quick 30-minute bike ride followed by a 10-minute run. This gave us a chance to check for equipment problems and to make sure our bikes and gear were in good working order. It's a good thing, the team had flat and punctured tires, and bent rims. Better to sort those things out now instead of during the race. The warm-up also was intended for a 'glycogen dump'. You basically do a quick warm-up the day before a race to flush out gylcogen (energy stores) in your muscles. Immediately after you refuel and your muscles act like super-sponges and 'tops off the tank' with gylcogen, ready for racing tomorrow. At least that's the theory, it was getting hot and I would have rather rested under a tree instead, haha.

Dinner, team meeting to go over the race, and into bed for a restless night of sleep, typical pre-race nervousness and excitement, not to mention dozens of partying campers. I'll party tomorrow night, AFTER my race. Ear plugs are a godsend.

Sat 4/12 Race Day
I'm up at 5:00 AM, no need for an alarm clock as everyone's tent zippers rouse the troops in unison. I have my usual race day breakfast of peanut-butter/banana/honey sandwich and a recovery drink. I'm feeling rested and excited. Today I'll swim 1.2 miles, ride 56 miles, then run 13.2 miles.

At 6:15 we all drive down to start line about a mile away from camp. It's going to be a pretty warm day. I check in at the starters tent and a volunteer body marks my arms and calves for identification. They put your race number on your arm and your age on your calf so everyone know who's in your age group when you're racing-racing. I'm racer no. 25, age 42. The volunteer actually thought 25 was my age instead of my race number and put it on my calf, thank you very much :). So I have a 25 on one calf and a 42 on the other. I start setting up my transition area, making sure my bike, running shoes, gear, etc. are all set up properly. I greet other team members, 'good luck', 'have fun' 'see you at the finish', 'kick butt', 'go team', and start getting my wetsuit on, bodyglide and heart-rate monitor chest strap intact, grab my goggles and cap, then head down to the water with the other racers.





I spot the three colored buoys we're to swim out to then loop back. They run parallel to the shore and last one is hidden from view because of how the shore curves around. We'll be swimming counter-clockwise with the buoys to our left. They look FAR. I get in the water to warm up and the temperature's surprisingly, comfortably warm. All season we've been swimming in low 50's water so this is a nice change. Countdown begins then we're off.




SWIM
After bumping into several people, our arms and legs swimming over each other, I settle into a comfortable pace. The water's full of these psychedelic little jellyfish-looking organisms floating in the water, thousands of them. I don't even want to know what they are. I've asked people what they think about during a long open water swim. Their responses vary, 'Beating everyone, especially the guys' or 'I think about my to-do list' or 'I wrestle alligators and say hello to the mermaids.' Usually I think about my form and breathing until I can get into a nice rhythm. Then it's all about getting to the next buoy, then the next one. At a favorite beach of mine, there's a little rock formation that I've always wanted to swim out to but haven't yet. So I pretend each buoy is that rock, and swim out to it.

I hit the first (white) buoy and try to sight the next one. No such luck so I just swim towards the kayaks until I see the next buoy. Still a way to go until we hit the turnaround in half a mile. The second buoy comes into view (it's orange). As I pass it I'm thinking, 'nice job Roman, one more to go then turn around and do it again.' I'm probably 25 minutes into the swim now as I approach the final buoy, a red one, a welcome sight. Out of nowhere I suddenly feel two 'hands' grab the top of my head. What the ?#@! Are there freaking giant otters or something out here? It was another swimmer who had 'stopped' me, thinking I was someone else and wanting to say hi. He apologized so I decided not to slap him upside his head for scaring the crap out of me.

I get to the last buoy and as I start to make my u-turn around it, I kick 'sideways' a little to get my body turned in the other direction. Instantly my right hamstring cramps up, ack! 'Okay Roman, relax or it will get worse.' I'm floating on my back until the cramp goes away, but it's not like you can stretch out your leg in the water like on land.

For some reason, my other leg locks up too. Crap (that's my default euphemism for s#!t). I wave to the kayak who paddles over to me. He says 'what's going on?' 'Cramp.' 'Grap the nose (of the kayak), not the side.' Yeah, I don't want to be tipping over my 'rescuer.'

I just hang on for while until my legs start to feel 'normal'. I don't intend to swim another half mile with cramped legs. He offers to row me to shore which isn't far, so I can stand up in the shallow water and stretch out my legs. We quickly do that and as I stretch, the tightness and pain seem to subside. I start swimming a little bit and I feel okay. Mr. Kayaker says to stick close to the shore and wave if I need him. He then paddles off to another swimmer who is having some sort of issue behind us.

I'm not worried about my time, just not cramping up again. So I take it easy and actually have a faster split-time on the return loop, go figure. But after a few minutes, it feels like a little piranha is swimming next to me and biting me on the back of my neck every few strokes. The velcro on my wetsuit must have moved around. I kept tugging on my neckline to no avail. Very distracting and irritating. I would later have a big purple monkey bite on the back of neck, my first wetsuit hickey.

I see the dock and the swim finish and in my haste, promptly swim right into the reeds on shore, 20 yards from the finish. It's very easy to swim crookedly without lane lines to look at. I need to work on that.

Coach Rand helps me out of the water, high fives all around, I find my slippers and start walking/running to the transition. My team manager yells out from across the parking lot, 'nice job Roman, you just swam 1.2 miles, stud!' I do my best Schwarzenegger then Rocky pose.

Transition 1 and BIKE
I find my bike quite easily as there are only a few riders left in transition. Strip out of my wetsuit and put on sunblock, sunglasses and bike gear. I also pop a Thermolyte pill (salt tablets) so my cramps don't show up again on the ride. I get on my bike and start riding out of transition. I'm yelling for the volunteers/coaches to tell me which way to go. One says turn left, another says go up the hill. So I get to the end of the parking lot then start spinning my way up the hill. It's camp sites, it doesn't look right. So I decide to turn around I ride back to the transition area and start yelling again, where do I go? They say look for the yellow arrows on the road. So I start up the same hill and can't find any arrows. As I'm getting to the top I'm guessing the road veers off, only it dead ends and I have to go back down, again!

Great, I just wasted time, energy and heartbeats on a hill I did twice just for extra credit. As I'm speeding down the hill, I'm mentally searching for the perfect curse word, but will refrain from revealing the choice few ones I did select. Once I get back to the bottom, another volunteer sees me and is screaming and pointing, 'THAT way Roman!' Other people got lost as well, but it was my fault for not studying the course map more carefully.

So, I'm finally on the real course then I see the 'real' hill, the first of many for the day. Beach Hill is a steep bugger of climb, you wouldn't want to walk up it, much less ride up it. As I'm grinding up the mid portion of the climb, a blonde hardbody passes me and she asks, 'so are you 25 or 42?' I reply, 'Guess. Nah, 42.' 'Cool' as she disappears easily over the crest. Ah yes, power-to-weight ratio in action.

A nice descent, then out of the park for miles of rollers and flats. I'm tucked in my aerobars, and it's much more comfortable and easy to stay out of the wind. Plus, you even 'feel' fast. I pass a few riders and chat. Others pass me and nod. It's starting to get warm so I roll my sleeves up and unzip my jersey a little to stay cool. My nutrition target is 300 calories an hour, plus 1000 mg of sodium. So I sip my Perpetuem and Carbo-Pro mix every 20 minutes, along with 2 Thermolyte pills and water spiked with Nuun. I remember to drink more water because of the heat. I use my bike computer and heart rate monitor to pace myself at 90 RPMs cadence, and 130 beats/minute.

I mentally break the ride down to three 20-mile sections. Rollers, flat, hills, rollers. Just get through each one, one at a time, piece of cake. Yeah, until mile 40 and 'Nasty Grade' and 'Cardiac Hill, a long steep 5-mile climb with 1000 feet of elevation. It's pretty hot now, so I unzip my jersey all the way to (try to) stay cool, dump some water on my head, inhale a packet of Jelly Belly Sports beans, drop down in my gears, and start to climb.

Now before the race, all the race veterans kept telling me how hard the course was, the hills on the ride and run. You know, why would I want to know how hard it is, the distance alone tells me how hard it is. I don't want things like 'Nasty Grade' in my psyche to play havoc with my mind before I even do the race. I mean, someone took the time to name these parts of the course (and others), pass them down to the next wave of racers year after year, even making it on to the course brochure. It can't be a good thing. So I renamed 'Nasty Grade' to 'Magical Marshmallow Mountain'. As I climbed I kept saying, 'this is Magical Marshmallow Mountain.' Doesn't make for an intimidating course description, but it works for me. Slow, strong and steady and I'm up the hill in no time (figure of speech for sure.) I've climbed harder hills in training (Mt. Diablo being the best/worst), but at this point of the ride, on a hot day, with a 13.1 mile run ahead of you, it really can be 'nasty'.



Quick stop to top off my water bottles with ice(!) water, zip up my jersey and time for a long, fast, fun descent, the best part of the climb. The view of the lake and valley from the ridge is breathtaking. Before the descent I pass a road sign that says 'CAUTION ICE'. Very funny on a 91 degree day. Not. Going downhill at 40+ mph is no joke, you have to be relaxed and focused, constantly scanning the road, looking where you want to go, not where you DON'T want to go. You never want your mind to drift into the 'I'm going really fast right now, if I crash it won't be good.' That's the worst thing you can think about, just stay in the moment and enjoy. I love to bomb the downhills, I probably got up to 45+.

I ride the last 10 miles back into the park and pass meadows with splashes of colorful wildflowers overtaking the bland, brown grass (thus the race's 'Wildflower' moniker.) No camera, so mental click will do. Before the park entrance there's a sign that says 'Prepare to Stop'. Man, I've been preparing to stop for fours hours now, my body would really like to, but I still have a Half Marathon I need to run. What's the deal with these signs? :)

Transition 2 and RUN
I roll into transition and am surprised to see two of my teammates. Good, I'll have someone to run with. I put on my running shoes, grab my Fuel Belt, hat and Garmin 201 (my GPS/pace/heartrate watch), stretch out my back and legs, then head for the run course. My Fuel Belt is filled with Nuun-spiked water, plain water, a couple of Gu packets (energy gels) and Thermolytes. I ask my teammates, 'why are you guys still here, let's go.' They both need to stop at the park's convenience store for 'something' so I figure they'll catch up with me. My plan is to run the first 3 miles way below race pace so my heart rate can settle and my body and legs adjust, then the next 7 miles at race pace, then the final 3 miles at whatever I feel (run/walk/sprint/crawl). Nice plan, out the window at mile 2. Cramps are back, upper inner thigh now. I sit down under a tree on the curb and start trying to massage and stretch my legs back to normal. A lady passes me and asks if I'm okay. I say yes, thanks, cramps. She offhandedly suggest I take more Thermolytes. I grunt as she runs off. Gee, thanks for that suggestion Einstein...and all this time I thought you take LESS sodium for cramps. I'm sure she was just trying to be helpful but I guess cramps, heat, fatigue and blatantly obvious statements make me cranky.

Alrighty then, only 11 more miles to go. I duck into a campground bathroom to pour some water over my head and neck and start moving. I walk up the hill to the aid station at mile 3, and one of the coaches starts asking me how I'm doing, seriously. I said I'm doing okay accept for the cramps. 'Are you taking Thermolytes?' (that question again.) 'Two every 20 minutes.' She gives me an extra Gu, I put ice down my shirt and under my hat, and head for the trails. The next 6 miles are mostly single-track dirt trails, along the lake and up and over a 'mountain'. Since there won't be another water stop the next 3(!) miles, on the hardest, hottest part of the run course, I have to do my best to allot the water I'm carrying.

I start jogging and see boaters on the lake floating lazily on by, not a care in the world. I just want to jump in the lake right now. I can't keep a decent pace as my heart rate keeps jumping into my throat. I change my plan to doing intervals, just run 2 minutes, walk 1 minute. It's so hot I find myself looking to run from one shady spot to the next. I get to a hill at mile 5 and just stop and stare. It's a mostly shadeless 6-foot wide dirt trail that goes straight up. Are you kidding? I thought I took a wrong turn and strayed off course. This can't be part of the race. I start 'hiking' and can barely catch my breath once I get to the top. My time goals are out the window. The heat seems to have zapped all the energy out of my legs. I am now firmly entrenched in 'just finish', survival mode. My mantra, 'don't quit Roman, keep moving."

Thinking I might need the extra calories because of the heat, I eat a Gu earlier than planned. Bad idea. I would later learn that in the heat, your digestive system actually shuts down and can't process food efficiently. So this 1.4 oz Gu felt like a brick in my gut, side cramps ensue. Our coaches teach us to Think and Adapt, so I switch to plain water only and take the tablets every 15 instead of every 20. I get back on pavement and it feels like I have tacks in my shoe. I take off my shoe and my sock has a little seam that runs under the ball of my foot. Funny how it never bothered me in training. I didn't want to take my socks off so I decided to just deal with it.

It was only until mile 9 where I felt half way normal and was able to run in to the finish. Alicia from my team found me on the course and ran the last 4 miles with me (she had already finished.) What an angel. The last mile is downhill then into the finishers chute. Why is it that you can run faster when you're so close to the finish?



Cheers, smiles, hugs and high fives all around. 9:30 hours, what a day. One of the first things out of my mouth was, 'wow, that was one of the hardest things I've ever done.' A 'bad' race for me, but I finished. Time to party, I just finished a Half Ironman. Coach Rand said congratulations to everyone for finishing one of the world's toughest Half Ironman courses in extremely challenging conditions. Bring it in...on three...1, 2, 3...IRONTEAM!

POST RACE
We all drove back to the campsite to get ready for our All-Team catered dinner, with all the participants and volunteers from around the Bay Area and O.C. Once everyone was served, Sarah, the OC Director, welcomed and thanked everyone for making it a great training weekend. She then introduced me and I was privileged to tell my story and say thank you on behalf of other honorees and their families for the difference they've all made in our lives. Unknown to me at the time, Raquel from our team videotaped my talk and put in on Youtube. If I had known, I would have either sabotaged her camera or tweaked my speech a little instead of freestyling. I haven't watched it, but I'll be brave and post it if you want to check it out. Thanks Tri-girl.

Part 1

Part 2

http://youtube.com/user/raqarmas

Once my speech was done, I could finally relax and celebrate. I phoned my daughter Gillian and she says 'Hi Daddy! How was you're 'game' today?' I told her I won. 'Cool, Dad!'

There's nothing better than sitting around a campfire (or lantern :) in the great outdoors, 'hydrating', swapping race stories, laughing, listening to music and being among friends. When I finally turned in past midnight, I had the best sleep in a long time, slept like a rock. I wonder why?





What I learned:

- Transition setup check-lists are our friends. So are coolers with ice and aerobars.
- Leg cramps in the water feel exactly like leg cramps on the bike, only wetter.
- Knowing the bike route out of T1, good. Not knowing and doing two extra hill repeats up the same hill before finally finding the course, bad.
- Heat = kryptonite.
- The WF Course Director must have some serious personal issues and should seek professional help (see Beach Hill, Nasty Grade, the Pit and especially 'Steep Hill' at mile 5.5 on the run.)
- A strong mind is as important as a strong body.
- Finishing is sweeter than quitting.
- Post race breakfasts are transcendent.
- Team In Training rocks. (But I already knew that.)

HIKE FOR DISCOVERY



A follow-up to my previous post (HIKE! 2/1/08), here's a pic of the brochures and letters sent out as part of LLS's promotional marketing campaign. It's not the best shot, I just snapped a pic from my bulletin board. She's a cutie, huh? I think she was five when they took these pictures as a part of another promo piece. She just turned 7 last month, wow. (Yeah, I'm still bald-ish, haha, and sport different specs [glasses] now.)

(Another) funny story: I stopped in on a Hike Informational Meeting in Pleasant Hill that my sister was attending. I'm signing in at the registration table and the Hike Manager comes up to me and says, uh, hello? Why are you signing in, we know who you are, your face is only all over the place! (I've never met her.) So I got a chance to say hello and thank you to all the Hike participants.

And Trish signed up to hike Yosemite in July(?). Go Trish! Oh my gosh, their training is pretty intense. One of their training days they drive up Mt. Diablo, hike down, THEN hike back UP! Coach says that it's very difficult to 'emulate Yosemite'. Ya think? If you've ever been to Mt. Diablo, that's quite the climb. I've driven and biked to the top several times and it's always a lung-buster, though the breathtaking view from the top is worth it. On a clear day you can see the Golden Gate.

Trish is really excited to get all her gear and to start training. I'll post her website once it's up and running. Yosemite in July will be beautiful. So go do a hike (www.hikefordiscovery.org) or an endurance event (www.teamintraining.org).

Have fun, save lives (like mine). Thanks!

-R

HAPPY VDAY



Yes, I'm a romantic (Roman-tic, get it?) But not in the generic, mass-produced, Hallmark, Zales Diamond, overpriced bouquets, marketing-driven, consumeristic way (chocolate being the exception :) Those 'things' all have it's place. But more the everyday-romantic-in-me that celebrates some of the thoughts below:

True love cannot be found where it truly does not exist, nor can it be hidden where it truly does. - Anonymous

There is no remedy for love but to love more. - Thoreau

The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost. - G. K. Chesterton

Love, and love alone, is capable of giving thee a happier life. – Beethoven

The day will come when, after harnessing the winds, the tides and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of Love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire. - Teilhard de Chardin

Smile.

FREEDOM (training update)



There's something about the feeling of warmth of the sun on your face. Quite a change from my last 'monsoon/hail ride'. I was out on a solo 50-mile bike ride today from my house out to Fairfield. Most of the time a solo ride becomes an almost meditative affair for me. Just you, the beautiful outdoors and your thoughts (and cars).

As I rode through one of the neighborhoods, I passed a trio of 10-year old boys on their BMX bikes. Instantly, I was transported back to my summers as a kid, my buddies and I on our ten-speed bikes, with our handlebars rotated up (the 'cool' way back then), riding wheelies, racing around the block, getting home at sundown, but mostly that exhilarating sense of freedom, adventure and discovery.

I think there's still that kid in all of us. Really, that's what the sport of triathlon is, swimming, biking and running, what kids enjoy instinctively. Here I was on my 'serious' training ride, but besides $2000 worth of gear and a several decades of age (yikes), the kids and I were both the same, on our bikes, wind and sun in our face, the freedom to explore, not a care in the world.

HAIL?! (training update)

Did a 45-miler today out in Petaluma. Cold, raining, headwinds and episodes of HAIL! You kind of tuck your head down so the pellets won't sting your face as much, but then it goes through the vents in your helmet and pelts your bald head. At one point the road ahead looked like a sheet of white, it was coming down so hard, bouncing off the road like little white BBs. I was like, 'what the ?' I had to pull off the road and huddle underneath a big tree, it was the only shelter I could find, country backroads and all. 'This is crazy!'

It does make you ride faster, you and the rest of the team just want to get back to your car and into some warm, dry clothes. All my 'waterproof' gear was soaked, head, hands and feet numb, breath raggedly breathing out cold mist, legs flat and fatigued coming off a 6-mile run the night before. You have to make sure you're eating and drinking enough to keep your energy up. You burn a lot of calories trying to stay warm and grinding through the wind. Three and half hours later I finally pulled into the parking lot and let out a seemingly primal, expletive-ridden diatribe. That felt good.

On one hand, probably the most miserable bike ride I've ever done. You either laugh or cry. On the other hand, it's good to train in difficult, adverse conditions. It makes you physically and mentally stronger, more resilient, tough. You look back at days like this with a sense of accomplishment. It's money in the bank for race day. A little sunshine would have been nice though :)

HIKE!





Last year the Leukemia Society asked if I would like to be a part of their new national marketing campaign for Hike for Discovery. Of course I'm honored to do anything I can for the Society. Hike for Discovery is a training and fundraising program similar to Team In Training but you get to hike in beautiful (unforgettable, stunning, breathtaking) locales like Yosemite and Grand Canyon.

Well the website is up and the promotional pieces have already hit mailboxes and businesses. Gilly and I feel like celebrities. People emailing me from as far as Minnesota saying they saw the piece.

Funny story, my brother and his wife are ordering take-out at a restaurant in Emeryville. She glances over at the brochure on the counter and says, 'hey, that guy looks Roman.' My brother is preoccupied with ordering and says, 'yeah, it does huh' and goes back to ordering. She goes over and picks it up and yells OMG! It IS Roman...and Gilly! Cool!

My IronTeammate Beau said it was in their race packet at the Disneyworld Marathon. My other teammate Sedonia wanted to put it in her pocket so she could say she 'ran a marathon with Roman.' Beau wants it autographed (I haven't figured out if he's serious or not.) I told him I wouldn't even charge, haha.

I was even at my gym earlier this week and the brochure was at the front desk (yay 24 Hour Fitness). I tapped the lady there, pointed and said, 'check it out, that's me!' Smiled. And exited stage left as she stood there mouthing 'hey, wow'.

I have a few more stories like that from other people too, old friends, teammates, Gilly's teachers, coworkers. Fun.

Hike is such an amazing and much needed program. I'll try to Hike this year though it overlaps with Ironman, but for sure I'll be keeping in touch with the team throughout the season.

If you're at places like Fleet Feet, Sports Basement, REI, sports stores, restaurants, gyms you may spot the brochure. Or you can contact me and I'll send you one, the Home Office in NY sent me a stack.

I'll put up some pictures of the brochures/letter later but you can check out the website. We're in the banner movie on top of the page, and our picture and story is at the bottom. It's signed Hike for Discovery Spokesperson so since I'm the Spokesperson, you all have to go out there and do a hike :) Yosemite and Grand Canyon. Can't beat that!

Check it out here: www.hikefordiscovery.org

LOUIE TRI! PART ONE

7th Annual Louie Bonpua Memorial Olympic Distance Triathlon at Treasure Island, Sunday, Jan.27, 2008


(Early a.m. view from the transition area)

MORNING
Cold and wet, what a great day for a race! .93 mile swim, 25 mile bike, 6.2 mile run. This would be my first Olympic Distance Tri. I decided to wake up excited instead of nervous. My goals were to finish, have fun, and learn from the race. This is a special race because of the person it was named in honor of, Louie Bonpua. I'll save his amazing story for the end.

At 7:45 a.m. we drive into the huge parking lot and we're treated to a spectacular view of the City skyline and both the Bay and Golden Gate Bridges in sight. Stunning. The place is already abuzz with 150+ Team In Training athletes, staff and volunteers. I check-in, get my race number and body-marked, pre-race greetings to friends, then start laying out my gear at the transition area. Wetsuit on, team meeting to go over the course, then a short walk down to the beach.


Setting up in transition

THE SWIM

I'm in the green cap, my buddy Jun in red

I'm not a swimmer. Sure, recreational swimming in the pool, but open water and lap swimming, never. But hey, I'm training for an Ironman so I better become a swimmer. So I started lap swims four months ago along with a few open water swims. My first open water swim in Lake Berryessa last November was very, shall we say, 'eventful' and probably one of the top 5 times I've been most scared in my life, and I can't even remember what the other 4 were. Going from an indoor pool to this vast body of open water, no side of the pool to hold on to, can't reach or even see the bottom, the thought of drowning, and don't forget those sharks in the lake (hey, it could happen!) But what's life without facing fear and doing it anyway. (Easy for me to say now, but at the time, the thought of quitting and swimming back to shore crossed my mind. I did finish though, yes! )

So now I get to jump into the cold SF Bay, not a lake. I told myself that I don't have time to be scared, I've got a mile swim ahead of me, four laps around the buoys.

My plan was to relax, take one buoy at a time, one lap at a time. I seeded myself in the first of four groups, slower swimmers first, faster swimmers last. 3,2,1 GO!

I do a 'Tarzan' stroke (head above water) for a while so I can navigate all the feet and legs splashing around. I did get kicked a few times and people bumping into me, but no big deal. Once things thin out, I put my face in and start swimming. The water's cold but after a while, your face, hands and feet get so numb you can't really feel it.

I finally get to the buoy for my last lap (lap four) and saw most/all of the swimmers around me heading to shore. But I just kept going, one more lap. Then several minutes later I saw kayaks 'surrounding' me and I thought, 'Great, I must be one of the last ones out of the water. Personal kayak escort again. Or maybe they've all mistaken me for a drowning person in need of help, haha.' Then another swimmer swam with me to see how I was doing. She gave me some technique advice and once I tried it, it felt like I was going faster/easier. Man, why couldn't she have been with me at the first buoy instead of the final one. She introduced herself to me after the race as Nancy. She's a swim coach and SF TNT coach and was swimming with the newbies this morning. She's awesome, like my angel mermaid.

Anyways, I started hearing the bullhorn (Coach Ted) and crowd from shore, something like 'Go, Roman, Go, Roman' (it's hard to hear, I have earplugs, plus the swim cap and water.) That's way cool but now I'm thinking, I must REALLY be the LAST one out if they can keep cheering for just ONE person for so long. You know, it wasn't Go Roman, Go Jill, Go Jack, Go Dexter, Go Team ('Team' in Training and all). It was Go, Roman, Go, Roman. And I know there's not several different people named Roman still swimming. And how did they know it was me? My ubiquitous green swim cap?

Being last out of the water in your first tri with only 10 people is one thing (Lake Berryessa), but in a race with 100 people? Isn't there at least one, just ONE more person slower than me out here. I didn't think I was THAT slow (no offense to that one more person out there.) And now that everyone is cheering me on I feel 'obligated' to swim as fast as I can to shore. But people, I'm already swimming as fast as I can, I don't need any extra pressure, haha. Closer...closer...people getting larger...solid ground! Big smile. 52 minutes by my watch (Timex Ironman of course). People are whooping it up like crazy, like I was the first one out. Hey, that lady looks like mom. It is mom! And dad! What are you guys doing here? I do a really quick glance at the water and it's smooth and tranquil, not one more colored swim cap, the red buoys are gone, and all the kayaks are grounded. Rats. Last. Oh well, make up the time on the bike. But yeah baby, I just swam a mile in open water, last or not, something I never thought I would or could do. Time to go ride.

Even though I was last out, I was excited because I had a great day mentally and psychologically. I wasn't dreading the swim, I was actually very relaxed walking to the beach pre-race, chatting with my teammates. I had zero panic attack moments and minimal, if any, extraneous, negative mental chatter. And I only stopped to rest once for about 20 seconds. My pace going out was too fast with all the excitement, and people bumping into you, so I just took a few extra breaths to get my heart rate and breathing back down, no biggie. I even passed a person hanging on to a kayak for dear life. Now that was something I didn't needed to see in the middle of my swim. So I tried to ignore it and kept swimming. I wasn't really tired, I just swim slow (for now :)

I would learn after the race that many swimmers didn't finish all four laps so that's one of reasons I was last out. (Or maybe because I'm slow, hehe.) I'm not worried about my speed, I know I'll get faster as the season goes on. It doesn't matter if I'm last at all my other triathlons, as long as I'm fast enough to make the 2 hour swim cut off time at Ironman (2.4 mile swim). Even with my slow time, I think the cut off is within reach.




and we're off...




RACE REPORT to be continued...

JOURNEY



One of my favorite quotes that I take with me everywhere, "Life is a Journey, Not a Destination'.

:)

GO SPEED RACER GO

I recently attended Audi's 'Driving Experience' test drive program at the Infineon Raceway in Sonoma.  First did some classroom time (learned what under/oversteer is, the Quattro system, car physics and how weight change affects handling.  And finally basic driving principles-look where you want to go, not where you don't want to, your hands follow your eyes; slow into turns/apex/accelerate out; patience; scan the road, no tunnel vision, etc.)

We then went out to the parking lot and learned how to position ourselves correctly in the driver's seat.   Your body should basically be in the 'ready' position like in sports, relaxed and ready to react, not straight and rigid or lazy.  We even learned the the correct way to hold and turn the steering wheel.  They teach the 9 and 3 o'clock hand positions.  Better control.  And the 'dead pedal' is there to brace your body against the seat during hard turns.  I never knew that.  I drive like that now-9 and 3 o'clock, dead pedal.  For safety and control reasons.  No more one hand, lean back, cruising position.  Now always ready. I feel more in control and in tune with the car.

Back to driving school...Now time for some emergency braking and handling drills in the parking lot with cones.  Lots of flying cones and screeching tires, fun.  A6, A3, A4, A8L and Q7.  Had the R8s at the track (sweet) but we didn't drive those.  That thing is fast.  Still my new dream car.

Then we got to drive this little red baby, 2008 Audi S5, not even on the market yet.  4.2 Quattro 354 HP 6-speed V-8, stick.   Push button start, rev the engine, yes!

Two laps around the course.  Don't know my top speed since I had to follow and keep up with the pace car.  The instructor guides you through the course over walkie-talkie, talking you through the turns.   When I did peek at the speedometer it was inching toward 100 mph.  Still only in 3rd gear, sheez.  Nice to abuse a car that's not my own, stomping the gas on straightaways, hearing the engine whine, shoved into your seat, tight turns at speed, tires squeeling.

I was a little lightheaded afterward.  Maybe because of the the adrenalin/stress/excitement.  Maybe I forgot to breathe during laps, haha.  

I had so much fun and learned a lot.  I'm a better 'civilian' driver now.  I'll definitely do it again.  Maybe next time in the R8.  Zoom...

BEAUTIFUL

What a great day to be alive!

I did an early morning 4-mile run today by the water (Benicia State Park), clear sunny day, cool crisp air.  Scenery was stunning.  I wanted a setting where I could think, be thankful, and enjoy the outdoors all the while listening to Alicia Keys' new album on my iPod, she's one of my absolute favorite artists. Her songs move me as always. Smile on my face the whole time.  

A perfect start to a perfect day.

RACING FOR A CURE

Click on picture to enlarge

IRONMAN!

click on:

www.active.com/donate/tntgsf/romanseguerre

COMING SOON...

ALOHA FROM HAWAII...

Our lives are defined by a few significant experiences - a few days or hours or moments out of a lifetime of years and decades.  These are the moments that make the day-to-day routine worthwhile.  They are what we live for and why we endure the mundane. The things we remember.

Keep Smiling...

-R

SITE UNDER CONSTRUCTION


Be right back...

-R

EMERGENT

For my peeps, suggesting, no, requesting, no, insisting on an update, here it is, albeit partial. And for those getting tired of looking at SFO, some eye candy of the new iPhone I just got from Steve.

Some sugar for you as we start (started) this new year:

I sense it coming but cannot avoid it.
My boat strikes something.
At first sounds of silence, waves.
Nothing has happenned;
Or perhaps everything has happened
And I am sitting in my new life.

-Rumi

A Happy, Healthy and Prosperous 2007!

I have a bunch of unfinished drafts, some that I'm hesitant to post in its current state. Maybe I'll just post the raw, stream of consciouness, unedited version and let it be. Blogging for public view and consumption often results in neurotic reluctance on my part. Ehh, it is what it is. I'm ready to get back in the saddle (Yipee Kayay blank-blank. Name that movie?)

Soooo...more thoughts and update soon.

No really.

I'm serious.

For reals.

:)

-R

(aerial view of SFO)

EARTH WIND & FIRE DAY TODAY...

I'm off to Hawaii with the team tomorrow AM. Good ol' SFO and Hawaiian Airlines. I love airports. Maybe because of the freedom and adventure it represents. Or because of the love you feel and see when loved ones are reunited there. Seeing that always brings a smile to my face.

I wrote a 'travel' love letter to my girl today. Just in case anything happens, so she'll always know. I know she does, I say it to her every night. I'll miss her so much when I'm away, but I know time will fly and I'll see her soon. I'll slip it into her Hello Kitty backpack. And I'll get a nice surprise for her later. I think she wants a videogame for her Nintendo DS. She knows how to milk it with Daddy.

Love and Aloha, lots more to come...

TRAINING LOG

Location: Healdsburg, Geyserville

Distance: 55 miles

Song: Life is a Highway (Soundtrack from Cars), by Rascall Flats. Gilly sings this and sounds like a country singer, I love it.

Thoughts: Quaint, charming little town with full of stores and restaurants and art galleries. This is probably my second favorite ride. Lots of rolling hills, and beautiful wine country scenery. After a four-mile climb up Pine Flat Road (which definitely ain't), it overlooks the valley filled with endless rows of vineyards. I didn't realize there were so many varied, independent wineries. Everyone's always wanting to stop to 'sample' the wares.

Hot one today, 95 degrees of dry heat, over 100 on the asphalt, like a giant blowdryer shadowing you all day. A few on the team had symptoms of dehyrdation and heat exhaustion. I drank about 5 water bottles of gatorade over the almost four hours that we were on the road and didn't even need to use the bathroom which means I was sweating it all out.

Even so, the last 10 miles of the ride had less to do with strength, but more about will and heart. Just brutal conditions. When you're hot and fatigued you need to dig down and ask yourself what your 'why' is, why are you training, why are you out there. You then begin to focus on that 'why' while the miles beginning to slowly disappear and you find a reservoir of strength that you didn't know you had.

For many, the face of a loved one comes to mind, or their memory. For others it's the commitment to the Cause, or a new vow to be healthy, or a promise to yourself to finish an unheard of challenge, or even laying on a beach in Hawaii, drinking out of a coconut after the Century Ride.

One of my 'whys' is on my handlebar, a pink Barbie bandaid that my daughter gave me after I crashed on a ride. I look and touch that touchstone many times on many different rides. I guess we all have 'whys' in our lives, someone or something that keeps us going, keeps us living strong, keeps us hopeful and joyful, that make our lives memorable, worth living, worth the struggle. With it, we tap deep emotional reserves that propel us forward.

What's your 'why' in life?

And the reward for me on this particular ride was an ice cold beer, waiting all those hours, hiding in an Igloo cooler, nestled comfortably on a bed of ice. It's the simple things in life, yes?

Godspeed,

-R

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