I see that my friend ST has been nosing around my blog and posting anonymous comments. Its too bad he doesn’t post his blatherings publicly. He is not shy about public speaking and often does so in front of a live audience when he reads his poetry aloud.

I had the pleasure of witnessing his poetry in action at the reading of his book “Sympathetic Detonations”, a collaboration with artist David Lantow. As Todd explained it, the book is an Action Adventure Series in a 5 part graphic novel about a day in the life of striptease artist Jackie Grease, whose aimless wanderings through New York take the reader on a surreal, philosophical journey about nothing in particular.

As when it comes to most things with Todd when he speaks, I am often left confused and/or amused. I must say that most of the deeper meaning behinds Todd’s words frequently escapes me. Much like my understanding of how he can possibly believe he will ever beat me in another head to head match up in a multisport race.

Back to his poetry, I will admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it despite not being able to understand most of it. I thought about writing about it on my previous posting, but decided not to because A. It wasn’t topical to what I was currently writing about and B. I was running out of time since I had to take the kids to soccer. I was hoping Todd would show up and surprise Lucas at his game, but I guess he was too tired from a night of reading (sorry for the guilt trip).

After soccer this morning, I setup my bike on the trainer and rode a very easy 85 minutes while watching a movie called “The Station Agent”. The movie and the ride were so mellow that I wasn’t even sure I was moving. In a sense I wasn’t but at least I got a ride in.

Yesterday, I went to Asphalt Green to swim in the morning for the first time in over 5 months. I set my watch for 4:30am the night before and woke up 31 seconds before it went off, hoping I had at least another couple of hours to sleep. Dragging myself out of bed to go swim at 4:30am was abosoultely brutal. Even though I’ve done this dozens of times before, I am just so unused to heading to the pool after not doing so for such a long time. I felt like I was duct taped to my bed and that I somehow managed to break free of the bonds.

It took me 20 minutes to drive to the pool and I easily found parking. When I entered the pool deck, I was pleasantly surprised to see that the pool was configured for Long Course Meters. This meant that I had a lovely 50 meter length to swim. I hate doing flip turns and hang turns are just not conducive to getting a proper rhythm flowing. For me, the less turning the better. I only had to swim 1500 yards and wound up swimming 1600 meters.

It took a little longer to drive home, but I was back in my house just before 7am. I got to wake my children up for school and then still had time to get a 6 mile run in. I took a shot of Hammer Gel straight from the bottle and then headed out into the crisp fall air and ran a very comfortable 6 miles.

Later in the day I went to SBR Sports near Columbus Circle to buy a new long sleeve wetsuit. Everything was on a blowout sale and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to score a new suit at a cheap price. I knew I would need it for the upcoming Turkey Dip.

Unfortunately, I was too late to score an Ironman Stealth wetsuit, but I did get a Orca P-Flex, which is supposed to be even better. Before settling on the P-Flex, I must have tried on 3 or 4 wetsuits. Let me state that trying on wetsuits is not a fun thing to do. The neoprene causes you to break out a sweat the moment you put it on. Add that to the fact that long sleeve wetsuits are pretty difficult to get on properly. Just pulling one on is a full workout in and of itself. By the time I was done, I could barely grip anything in my hands, since they were so fatigued from pulling up the suits.

In order to make my final decision on which suit to buy, I tried a couple out in the Endless Pool in the store. So here I am going swimming for the second time in the day, where previously, I hadn’t swum in a couple of months. I was reluctant to do this at first, since I didn’t want to get my hair wet. I didn’t have anything to neaten it up afterwards and I had to go back to work. Fortunately, my hair stayed somewhat dry underneath the swim cap.

Back in my office, I left my new wetsuit, wet in the bag, on a chair next to my desk. Eventually I took it out and hung it up on the back of my office door. I left the wet bag on the chair. Later on someone came to see me and when she went to sit down noticed that something was “leaking” in my bag. I told her it was from my wetsuit which was still wet from swimming. I had her convinced that I took a dip in the East River, especially when she saw my suit hanging behind the door.

Last Year’s Turkey Dippers

Email to Coach -

Neil -

Well, I am not going to swim at AG at night anymore. It is just way too much of a hassle. I got there around 6:15 after suffering for 20 minutes on the crowded M86 Bus. Too windy and rainy to walk in my work suit. There was only 4 lanes open and the swimmers in them just didn’t mesh. The other lanes were taken over by after school programs. Compared to the kids in the next lane, I was old, slow and rusty. They were swimming by me with such ease and grace.

I am not hanging around until after 7:30pm, because I would just get home too late. If I need to do a morning/night workout again, I’ll do a morning swim followed by a night run.

Since I got home later than usual, I slept too long to get my bike in. However, I realized I didn’t need to be in the office at my usual time, so I had time to do it. I went out, but unfortunately, they are ripping up Prospect Park for repaving, so it wasn’t conducive to riding. I did get in 2.9 miles. Too bad I just didn’t stay indoors. By the time I got back, I just decided to forget about it for now. Maybe I will try for this evening. The morning was just one big false start.

Speaking of indoors, with the winter arriving, you mentioned you may be inclined to lend me your computrainer. Is that still true?

Really what I felt like doing today was running. My legs feel very good and its all I feel like doing lately. Getting in the pool last night was tough. I hate the feeling of the cold water enveloping my body, but once I got going it was ok. I was slow, but swam with what I think was good form.

I am going to have to start popping an Ambien again soon after I eat dinner. The pull of the TV has been fierce lately, causing me to go to bed later than usual. I guess my lazy gene wants to make up for lost time. However, I am starting to feel my passion gene exerting its will.

Charles

Yesterday I was supposed to do a 3 mile Active Recovery run. I intended to do it in the morning, but as I mentioned previously I was too tired in the morning to get roll out of bed so I figured I would try for later in the day.

As the day wore on I realized that I would be at work until well past 7pm, so my hopes of getting in the run were greatly diminished. During the meeting that was the culprit for my late work departure, I snuck off an email to my coach explaining my still at work status and asked he if thought I should get the run in. However, by the time I finally made it home (around 9:10pm), he had yet to reply, so I decided that I may as well get it in as a way to renew my commitment towards training.

The run itself was pleasant enough. Prospect Park was mostly deserted and the air had the feel of a chilly summer night up in the country. I only saw a couple of other people out in the park and the isolation made the place feel other worldly. My legs felt better than they have felt in a long time. I think running the NYC Marathon was just the ticket to working out whatever kinks were bugging them.

I returned home in less than 28 minutes and found an email waiting for me from my coach. Here it is:

Just got home, sleep (hope you did). Get a workout in in the morning.

nlc
————————————————————————
Neil L. Cook
SLB Coaching & Training Systems
Asphalt Green Triathlon Training Institute
http://www.slb-coaching.com
http://www.agtri.com
neil.l.cook@mindspring.com
coach@SLB-Coaching.com
ncook@AsphaltGreen.org
coach@AGTri.com
New York City
212-472-9281 or 917-575-1901 or 212-369-8890 x268
For me Frailty is a lot harder to bear than dying.
A Sweet Lightning Bolt Production
————————————————————————

Personally, I think he needs to shorten his signature down. How many email addresses can one person need?

I went to sleep contented that I got my run in and resolved to wake up this morning to do my ride. I woke up at 4am with a rumbling stomach and bowel and decided to get out of bed to get an early start on my ride. After a quick pre workout meal, two caffeine pills and morning constitutional however, I found myself sitting on my couch watching House of 1000 Corpses and falling back to sleep. This was my one step back. I decided to bail out on the ride and went back to bed. If rest is part of your training, then I put in a good 1.5 hours worth of hard effort. I am quite clearly not used to doing a back to back night/morning workout.

Maybe I will get my ride in tonight.

I was watching a children’s show called “Ned’s Declassified School Survival Guide” and the topic of the day was how to survive Mondays. After some relatively childish ideas presented throughout the show, it ended with Ned suggesting that you do some things that make you feel happy or look forward to on Mondays. This way Monday wouldn’t be such a drag.

One of the ideas during the show was to wear a favorite pair of underwear. Since my favorite pair of underwear is no underwear at all, perhaps I should go commando on Mondays. I do get such a great feeling of freedom when I am not all tightly packaged. Of course, the only thing I have to worry about then is what if I get into an accident and need to be taken to the hospital? Mother always said to make sure you wear a clean pair in case such an unfortunate event should happen. Then again I’ve already been taken to the hospital after a bike wreck and I wasn’t wearing underwear. No one seemed to care. I suppose no underwear is infinitely preferable to dirty, skid stained, stinky underwear.

This past Saturday I watched the NBC coverage of the 2005 Ironman. The show was ok, but no where near as good as last year’s coverage. One of the athletes they featured was Norman Stradler, the winner of last year’s Ironman. This year he had no such luck as he decided to DNF after suffering multiple flats and a bee sting. They showed Norman crying like a baby and having a hissy fit in which he throws his very expensive Kuota bike to the side of the road. What horrible blasphemy to the sport of Triathlon. Norman exhibited some of the worst sportsmanship I have ever seen. Too bad he wasn’t mature enough to act like a man and set an example for everyone watching him and try to complete the race. I hope he regretted his decision to DNF and his actions on the course the following Monday morning.

A very hot discussion thread about this topic appeared on Slowtwitch.com soon after the NBC coverage. You can see it all by clicking here, including the couple of posts that I included here, here and here.

My coach left a comment for me regarding my previous posting. He basically warned me that I have a couple of weeks before he starts to get on my case to start training again. I took this message to heart and started to do some of the little things to get back into training. I stretched, did some core strength exercises and most importantly, got out on my bike on Saturday and ran on Sunday. Both training sessions were very comfortable and felt very good. Sunday’s run in particular was excellent as I ran with my good friend Larry along the water by the Verrazano Bridge. It was pleasant and mild, both in terms of weather and effort.

Today though (Monday), I kind of let myself slack off again. Fortunately all that is scheduled is an easy 30 minute run. I still have time to do it, so hopefully I will get it in at lunch or this evening before dinner. I have been having a lot of trouble waking up in the morning, especially Mondays and I have to figure out how to get my act together.

Several people from my office have discovered my blog. This could be a dangerous thing as it may cause me to censor myself before I make a posting or risk writing about something that could cause me embarrassment. I suppose I have to ways to combat this problem. I could write defensively, whereby I make sure I don’t write about anything that could cause me embarrassment, or I could write so offensively that my blog simply grosses my coworkers out and they won’t come back for a return read.

I could also make my blog very boring, but I don’t know how to write boring. I’ve started many posts in the past that I became bored with and abandoned them by clicking the little red X in the upper right hand portion of my screen. I think I will stick with offensive since that is so easy to do being an endurance athlete.

Bowel problems, stomach problems, bloody blisters, road rash, snot, snot rockets and the like are all part of being an endurance athlete. To other likeminded souls, these issues are common occurrences and are no more offensive than a runny nose on a cold and windy day.

In truth, I haven’t had to deal with any of the above referenced issues in about a week. I haven’t done any training since the marathon. I thought about getting outside to train, but I was either not feeling well in the morning or was too tired. I am beginning to wonder if my desire to train has left me and I fear becoming the slovenly couch potato I was 4 years ago (reminder to myself to post fat slovenly picture). Maybe I just need a little break to recharge, whereupon I will begin training again. I’ve read in various magazines and websites about the need to take some time off, after which, it is time to kick your ass back into gear. I’ve been at this juncture before, where I spent a couple of years training and then simply stopped and let myself degenerate into a big fat blob. Hopefully this will not happen to me this time around.

Earlier this week I was invited to the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show in the Armory on 26th Street and Lexington Avenue. It was a last minute invitation and my first inclination was to turn it down. The friend who invited me said “Come on Charles, you know how many men in this city would kill for an invitation to this thing?” Hearing that, I decided to suck it up and sacrifice an evening with my children and most likely forgo waking up in time to do a work out, to watch a bunch of scantily clad, beautiful women parade down a catwalk for a couple of thousand people.

The show was actually very entertaining. The models were of course hot, although I did feel that Tyra Banks looked like a great big Amazon Beast compared to the rest of the models. Tyra was very big and full figured with thick thighs, while the rest of the models were very waif like. In addition to the models we were entertained by Seal and Ricky Martin.

After the show was over, everyone proceeded into other rooms where you could consume all the vodka and Champaign you could drink. Cocktail Hors d’œuvres were served including caviar in shot glasses with little tasting spoons like then give in Baskin Robbins. On the way out, you received a Victoria’s Secret handbag. It contained shampoo, conditioner, candles, a $150 gift certificate and a pair of knickers for your woman. My wife felt they were too big for her, so not to let them go to waste, I decided to wear them. I must say they are very comfortable.

So in any event, I am off to take my son to soccer, after which I hope to get on my bike and ride 40 miles. I need to kick the lethargy out of my body and start moving down the catwalk again.

If I have a contact in my address book who is dead, should I delete it?

It was difficult and painful. I completed the marathon searching for answers as to why I found running this marathon so damn hard and painful. My quads started to break down around the 15th mile and I struggled to complete the race. I found myself asking why this should be so hard, when I didn’t have nearly as much difficulty completing Ironman Lake Placid only a few months earlier.

The answer according to my coach is of course, Ironman Lake Placid. He feels that I put so much into that race, that my body just needed extra time to recover, which prevented my from adequately preparing for today’s marathon. I know this must be true, since I found it a struggle to get back into training since late August.

The weather for the marathon was perfect as far as I was concerned. I am sure many people felt it was too warm, by the 60-70 degree temps is just what I liked. This prevented me from being too cold in the morning and was just cool enough so I didn’t over heat. I didn’t even need to don the plastic trash bags I brought with me to stay warm before the start.

At the starting line, I made the mistake of stopping my Polar HR monitor in order to make sure it was reset for the race. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get it to pick up a reading again, since there were too many people around me wearing a Polar transmitter. This meant that I had to walk out from the pack of runners with only a couple of minutes remaining before the race. I climbed around a blue barricade that was funneling runners towards the center of the start and found an empty area to restart my watch.

When I walked back to the starting line, I lined up on the outside of the barricade. This was a big mistake as the starting mats were on the other side of it and I had to struggle back to make sure my timing chip crossed the mat. Other than that minor problem, I set off on a very comfortable pace and was feeling very good.

I tried to hold onto my race plan for the first 10 miles which was to run approximately 7:50 miles. I was actually a bit faster than that for several of the miles, but my HR was close to where I wanted it to be. I really should have gone slower, looking back at my splits. After 10 miles, I tried to start picking up my pace. That was hard to do as the course started to run into several climbs. Rather than go by pace, I measured my effort based on HR. This increased effort didn’t last for long and going back to my Polar HR software I see that mile 13 was the beginning of the end.

Mile 13, is a steep climb over a short bridge followed by the longer climb over the 59th Street Bridge. After that, you have a gradual ascent along First Avenue right into the Bronx. First Avenue really beat me up. The ground is completely concrete and this was very hard on my increasingly painful quads. I started to take the occasional walking break and just went into survival mode.
Two thoughts kept me moving forward. The first was that I came to far to give up a qualifying race for next year’s NYC Marathon. The second was that I didn’t want my friend Larry to catch up to me and tell me “You see, I told you, you should have ran with me. You would have had a much more comfortable race”. Larry surmised that if I went out too hard and was reduced to walking, we would see each other later on in the day. I didn’t want this to happen.

Eventually I made it through the Bronx and the first few 20+ miles seemed to disappear somehow. I started paying attention to the distance again, once I saw mile 23. It was at this point that one of my worst fears came to mind. I passed some gas and suddenly felt a nasty dampness in the back of my shorts. I was terribly afraid that I crapped myself. I didn’t stop to look (or feel with my hand) and soldiered onto the finish.

Finally I crossed the finish line and proceeded to walk with all of the other runners in our Zombie like state towards water, food and baggage claim. The post race meal provided had to be the worst thing I ever received. It consisted of a gooey chocolate protein bar that took more calories to consume than the bar provided. It also had the nastiest most dried up prepackaged bagel ever created. The only thing edible in the bag was an anemic tangerine. I wasn’t even going to consider eating the greenish apple.

For some reason there are no Portosans past the finish line. I started to feel my bowels wanting to give and I was on a quest for a place to relieve them. I started scoping out a bush or some other cover to let my colon rip. However nothing was apparent and I was forced to keep moving forward.

Eventually, I started to exit Central Park and I noticed several Portosans behind a medical tent. I found a momentary burst of speed and flew into the nearest. I entered perhaps the most comfortable Portosan ever created. It appeared as virginal as the day it was born and the toilet seat was in pristine condition. I let my naked butt cheeks grab hold of the seat and my colon let loose with the force of a fire hose. The thing even had toilet paper so I was able to wipe my ass like a civilized human being.

Scatological issues completed, I headed onto the UPS trucks to claim my pre race belongings. The positioning of the trucks was a marked improvement over the last time I did NYCM in 2002. There was much more space around the trucks and my bag was already in sight for me to pick up. I grabbed it, made it to the subway and headed home.

Eventually, I heard from Larry again. He was on his way home and would soon pick me up for a post race party. I was looking forward to seeing him and comparing battle stories and laughing about some of the sights we saw at the Athlete Village in Staten Island. These included one particular fellow with bright red Race Ready shorts that were several sizes too small, the urinal trough and runners wearing a fuel belt with a dozen bottles filled to capacity and a gel tuck in with each for safe measure.

I was feeling pretty good at the post race party for a while. I think it was a mistake though to wash a Vicodin down with a couple of beers and munch on tortillas, cocktail franks and bacon wrapped dates. I started to develop a cold sweat and an overwhelming urge to puke and crap my pants. Fortunately, Larry’s wife took mercy on me and offered to drive me back home.

I now write this story on my personal porcelain throne. It is my 5th trip here in the last two hours. I think I will sleep while sitting on it. It is raining outside and the sound of it hitting my bathroom’s skylight is soothing and peaceful.

ZZzzzzz

Larry smiling on the way to his 20th straight NYC Marathon.

The author and Larry relaxing on the bus to the start. And relax we did. The ride took over an hour.

Some athlete perform special stretching maneuvers to gain maximum speed.

The famous urinal trough.

Larry keeping back with a cold brewsky after finishing in a time of 3:54.

Note: This entry was started on Sun, Oct 16 and finished on Oct 25.

I feel oddly inspired today. I watched several hours of the live Kona Ironman Championships and the fire inside me to begin training has been rekindled. Even the difficult run I had yesterday is offering me encouragement. Training for an Ironman is hard. If it weren’t then many more people would do it. I am glad I stuck through my discomfit yesterday and ran until I passed the 20 mile mark. Now that I did one, I know I can do another. I am setting my sights on doing two more 20 mile runs before the NYC Marathon. This would give me two weeks to taper. I may not be fast, but at least I will have the mileage in.

Today I received an anonymous message from a reader of my blog. The writer wants to know:

How my kids and wife deal with my obsession?
Do I have a job?
When did I first become consumed with exercise?
Do I have any other hobbies?

The writer went on to state that my tales of intensive training make the person want to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and hide under the covers.

I think my children are inspired by my pursuing endurance athletics. My son likes to say how he is my coach. Both of my children are looking for me to bring home awards. Hopefully, my training will encourage them later in life to be physically active. I feel that the time I’ve devoted to training has for the most part has not had a negative impact on them. I always make sure to be home with them on the weekends and I am always home in the evening. I do not hesitate to sacrifice a workout to be with them or make other arrangements in my schedule accommodate my training and my children. On the weekends, even after my longest and hardest training days, I am the one who takes them to the playground, bike riding, etc. Of course, a vicodin and a caffeine pill make this task a helluva lot easier.

My wife tolerates my training. I think she likes to complain about it at times, but in truth, it does not impact her either. It has been on occasion a source of contention between us. She complains that I go to bed too early. The truth about this is that secretly I think she is happy I am in bed well before her. We don’t like to watch the same things on TV and my being asleep allows her complete control over the remote. This is my opinion and I am sure she will deny it. The fact that I am not in heavy training now and staying up later, while she leaves the room is proof enough of this for me. It is also probably proof that not all is perfect in this endurance athlete’s marriage. But then again, whose marriage is perfect? She isn’t into endurance sports and doesn’t understand the appeal for them.

I do have a job. I am the Chief Technology Officer for major real estate brokerage company. I am responsible for the design, delivery, and maintenance of all computer, network and telecommunication systems for around 4000 agents and staff.

10/25/05

Like the incoming and outgoing tides, I have spent periods where I was obsessed with exercise or gone for several years where I let myself get out of shape. This has been going on since I was a teenager. Each one of these cycles lasts longer and I am hoping that this period of being in shape can be sustained for at least the next couple of decades. I feel as though this time around, I have made a fundamental change in the way I pursue health and exercise. Triathlon and fitness has become more of a lifestyle than as an obsession with becoming fit.

I have had several other hobbies throughout my life, each of which was pursued with zealousness. I’ve done scuba diving, golf, fishing, fencing, kite flying, hunting (never killed anything), cycling, mountain biking, photography, model trains and others that I don’t recall. I pursued some of them with intensely, while some were momentary blips in my life.

I think that answers everything. It is time to put this post to rest and start on something else.