ventilation system

this is how i know i need to move to a professional level....
i think i'll basically go crazy if i don't.

i need things to be steady, and right now, my training feels bi-polar.
it's either awesome days, or no training at all.
it's like i'm living two lives.

in one, i work. i eat crappy food. i drink beer. i hang out.
in another, i train. i eat clean food. i'm motivated. i jump out of bed to train.

thing is, i hate the first. hate it.
it's the same zombie life i had with olympia.

i'm sick of the winter, already, because i can't bike.
not even enjoying skiing this year....a first.
so over it being dark 75% of the day.

i know a lot of my recent blogs have sounded angry.
in a way, i guess i am.
i want to train. it's all i want.

i've finally reached this point... where the amount of time i have available to train does not give me what i feel is enough. it's too early in the year to forego sleep.
i'll crash in may if i start that now.
maybe it's a chance i have to take to preserve my sanity.

this wasn't that coherent.
my brain is scattered. now you know why.

update 1-9-10

Did a 2 hour Snowshoe run last night, gaiterless. How dumb is that?
Frostbite on both achilles tendons.
Yehaw.

Other than that, I felt awesome. I gotta say, I feel very very strong right now.
When all is said and done, I'll have about 15 hours of training in this week, which is solid for this time of year.

Joe and I are planning on running a treadmill 50 miler on the 25th, so hopefully that bodes well for both of us. It will be mindnumbing, but that's exactly what I want. I don't want to think. I'd like to turn myself into a robot that just goes, and I think that's a solid way to "program" myself.

On the snowshoe run last night, I felt worked, but in a good way. I could feel my core engaging- something that has not happened before. I've always been extremely weak in the midsection, and I give all the credit to Troy at Northern PT and Kate Hanes.

Gotta bite the bullet and get on the bike already. That's the missing element to my training right now. I'm not as concerned with the swim right this second, although that's going to have to happen here real soon as well. Running is going well...lots of mileage and time on my feet this year already.

I'd considered the Beast Of Burden 100 in february. I don't trust myself to be honest. I don't want to go there and get injured. More likely will be the McNaughton 100 in May in VT. They have a 150 mile option that I'm really considering. It'd be nice to go to Mexico having run 150 miles before. To have that confidence at the starting line of the quintuple would be pretty awesome.

Hard to believe in a few months sleep deprivation comes back into play.
Feels like just the other day I was showing up at physical therapy in the morning, not having slept yet, feeling like crap, and just trying to get through the day. I have to admit that I don't look forward to that, but it is a necessary evil.

I am raring to go....a stark change from 2 weeks ago.
I have been reborn.
Let's get it on.

Itching The Hermit

I'm getting to that agitated point of things.

This week was supposed to be my first spike in training volume...but I somehow got the plague of a lifetime. The good news is that now, it's on the downslide. I feel better after 10 hours of sleep last night and a Nyquil overdose.

When I plan for something and it doesn't happen, I get this little itch inside, and it keeps getting worse until the matter is resolved. This little itch is usually a precursor to what I've now come to call Hermit Mode...
No friends. No phone calls. No personality. Just training.
Usually it's a week or two weeks, culminating in one huge workout....IE Presque Isle to Bangor ride, run to Houlton, etc.

So I'll have my first big workout next week.
I'm tossing around a few ideas in my head, but the reality is that I won't know exactly what it is until the day before. It all depends on how this next week goes.

Right now, I'm just thankful that I am relatively structurally healthy. My name was just posted on the Mexico site for the Quintuple, so now it's more real than ever. I'm going, and I cannot wait. Just have to be smart and not overdo it.

Man, November's gonna come quick. It's scary to think I only have 10 major workouts left.

Zoinks. See you next week!

krp

Ramble

Wow.
Haven't updated in awhile.

I guess, really, there's not much to update.
Just spent the last month working every day all day...
I sure am glad to have that behind me now.

2009 was one psycho year. Like, crazy.
2006-2008, I wrote Year In Review blogs. I just read them, trying to get inspired to write something on here, and there is one common theme in all of those entries: they ended with something to the effect of: "insane year". This leads me to believe that life in general is crazy, my life is crazy, or more likely, I am crazy.
The best part is that each insane year just keeps adding new chapters to the book I've been trying to write for the last few years. I collected some really great material this year. I know that at some point, I will do it. Absolutely. It's just a matter of when.

Soooo. 2010.
There' s a lot on my plate right now.
I just submitted my entry form to Jorge for the Mexico Quintuple Iron. That's November 14.
Eileen Steil really put it in perspective on the phone the other night. Really, I only have 10 months of training left.
10 months to get ready for 703 miles of racing.
I have a ton of other races in the plans, but if I don't make it to them because I don't wanna get injured, or have to drop during them to better prepare for Mexico, that's just going to have to happen.

So, I'll be in the gym, battling for machine use at the gym with all the "1 monthers". That's a title I give to the resolution people. January is always so crazy at the gym...where do they go the rest of the year?


I dunno.
I'm ready to focus now. My wild oats have been sewn since that cold October morning.
I've lived it up quite a bit. Drank my beer. Eaten my junk food.
My goals for 2010 are simply stated:
-Keep a balance of social life and training. It can be hard to pull myself out of training mode when I'm in the zone.
-Keep it fun. If it ain't fun, I'll burn out.

Here's to the new happenings....

Triple Trouble

It's 6 am on a Sunday morning and I'm a mess.

I smell terrible.
Snot runs down my nose and onto my lips and I don't even care.
I'm crying and sobbing uncontrollably as I peg-leg in 2 mile increments.
My right leg stopped working 6 hours ago.

The mummy bag wrapped around my body keeps me warm in the unseasonably cold 43 degree Virginia morning. I look like a crippled Snapple fruit.
A crippled, frustrated, angry, disappointed... Snapple Fruit.

I "walk" past a camera crew and pull the mummy bag over my face. I can't even look at the photographer, but I can feel his eyes on me. Must be thinking "That poor bastard".

I've never felt so low, and there's no way someone's going to capture this moment.
Hard to believe that, up until 6 hours ago, I was clicking miles off almost effortlessly after no sleep for 40 hours.

Welcome to Ultra Distance Triathlon.
A handful of people in the world.
Number of races in the world: count them on your hands, and MAYBE take one shoe off.
They range from Double Iron to Deca Iron distance, although a select number of people(literally a couple) have done 20 Irons at one go.

This one's the Virginia Triple Iron.
7.2 Mile Swim, 336 mile bike, 78.6 Mile Run
46 hours ago, 20 of us lined up on a beach posted with a sign that said "no swimming".
Ironic.


We plunge into the water, but noone's in a hurry.
No point rushing when you're doing a 60 hour event.
The water is fairly calm, but that doesn't last long. As the morning wears on, boat traffic on Lake Anna picks up. Worse, the wind picks up.
Next thing we know, we're swimming through white caps....
The .4 mile swim course is a loop that parallels the beach, and the waves are so bad that you can only breathe on the beach side, or risk lungfuls of water. I remember thinking..If this is any bearing on the rest of the event, it's going to be a long weekend.

4 hours into the swim, I'm scraping sand with my hands...what the heck?!
The waves have started moving the buoys toward shore.
Common sense says the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, which means I can safely say I'm swimming much longer than 7.2 miles while goose-chasing buoys.
On the bike later that day, veterans would tell me that it was the roughest swim they'd ever had at Lake Anna. Ocean-esque.

Exiting the water in a longer-than-anticipated 5 and a half hours, I'm a little dizzy, which is normal, given the length of time in near-weightlessness and rough water.
I make my way to the row of tents that I would come to call Tent City. Each athlete gets a tent to store their gear and food. It's basically a base camp of sorts.
We would pass these shelters a million times on the loop courses of bike and run, and at each pass, we would receive food and drink from our crew.

After a couple timing chip issues(mine wouldn't work) that cost a little over a half hour, I'm on the bike. I didn't anticipate the feeling of holding myself up on the bike after swimming for so long. I feel so weak. My legs are toast. How am I going to stay upright and pedal for 24 hours or more? Self doubt is already creeping in. Time for an attitude adjustment.
I have a strategy for these times...
Whenever I feel less than positive, I eat everything.
Fruit. Comfort food. Sweets. Coffee. Evvvvverything.
Sarah, Sperv, and the parents did an awesome job....almost too awesome. I would leave Tent City sometimes with not enough hands to hold the food. Jeez, each lap only takes 20 minutes! I didn't need all that! Great job!

The Friday afternoon flies by, and soon night is falling. My body is starting to come around after 5 hours on the bike and eating everything.
I am positive again.
I always have this feeling of contentment when night comes. You just come to this realization that you're going to be out here alllll night. Might as well settle in and just get into the zone, and start clicking off miles.
Dad and Justin strap on the light, and I'm gone.

The night blurs together in my memory.
Some hours were hard. Some hours were easy.
Some laps you had to change batteries or lights.
I got to this point where I could tell who was coming at me just by the lights on their bike.

3am hits, and most of the veterans are asking if I've slept yet.
I take that as a cue to hit the tent for an hour and a half, even though I don't feel especially tired. The idea, apparently, is to hit the hay before the sun comes up. The Double Iron athletes(which are to start this morning) would begin arriving and making a raucous.

I hit the tent at 3:30, get an amazing massage from Sarah for a few minutes, then lay in the tent, awake, for the next hour and a half.
In the dark, I "watch" little circular mouths with teeth all around them and tongues sticking out swirl in a kaleidoscope pattern on the ceiling of the tent.
I'd heard about hallucinations, but had never had them until tonight.
I can't help but watch with a strange fascination, being conscious enough to know what they are, but just alert enough to wonder if I should be worried. These would be the only ones for the entire race.

The zzzzzzziiiiiiiipppppppp of the tent at 5 AM comes way too soon.
Justin pops his head in.."Time to get going".

I ask for 10 more minutes... as if 10 more minutes is really going to make me feel better after I've been racing for 20 hours. My body already feels trashed.

By this time, my parents have arrived.

I pull myself out of the tent, and everyone's staring at me. My eyes are blood red and barely open. I'm stiff and tired. I know how bad I look because noone's saying anything. Awful is not the word to describe how I feel. It's easily 100 times worse than I felt before I laid down.

To top it off, I am feeling sorry for myself because I know that I just blew my only chance to get sleep- probably for the rest of the event.
Justin is the crew leader for a reason. He realizes the shit is hitting the fan and basically forces me back on the bike. It's 5AM, give or take.

I spend the next 2 and half hours riding in the dark(figuratively and literally) in absolute misery...planning ways to quit, and eating everything in sight. I know the pending sunrise will lift my spirits. It's a lesson I learned from my Presque Isle to Bangor ride one night...but it seems as though the sun will not come up. These hours are the longest hours of my life.

At 9AM, I'm back in what I've come to call Kale's Manic Mode. I'm always a little too happy when I workout. This is no different today, with Sperv and Sarah screaming like crazy on every lap. They also have Manic Mode of cheering.. I mean who else can cheer for 40 hours straight? Crazy.

By this time, we have our system for fueling down, and there are no stops, just fluid (pun intended) transfers. My ass did not leave the saddle from 5am to 5 PM Saturday, when I finished the bike ride. At one point around 12 or 1PM, the officials miscount my laps.

I'm like 280 miles in, and it's the last thing I need to hear. I am so pissed off that I put my head down and start ripping off laps. I know it isn't rational while I'm doing it, but I am so beside myself with anger that it is the only way to vent. My fastest laps of the bike ride are from miles 280 to 336.

I get a quick shower after the ride, and change into my running clothes, and it's back to work.

By the time I down a couple cheeseburgers and blast 6 or 8 miles out, the sun is setting. The calmness I was talking about earlier comes over me and it's time to settle in and start plowing through some miles. My parents surprise me with Dominoes pizza. I grab 2 slices, stack them one on top of the other and eat them on the go. Best pizza ever. Thanks, Dominoes.

The 2 mile out and back is pretty much uphill on the way out and downhill on the way back. The temperature is dropping hard into the 40s...a stark contrast to Friday's high 80s. People are bundled up, but man, it feels normal to me. Feels good. The miles are blazing by. I'm high on coffee, food, and the spirit of the race. Tent City is lit up and it's awesome to come back in for a morale boost every 20 minutes or so.

I hit the marathon mark, and I feel better than I have the entire race. Meanwhile, the carnage is starting to show for some. I pull up to one guy who's staggering. He's drooling on himself, and proceeds to tell me that he has 14 pairs of shoes....and I never asked him anything. I say hi to almost everyone I pass, but few return the greeting. Maybe it's because I've said hi to them every 20 minutes for the last 40 hours. I bet they hate me. Haha. Manic Mode, bitches.

A few miles later, I feel mentally fresh, but I am starting to stiffen a little bit. A mixture of the cold and sheer volume of the race is taking its toll on my legs. I always do butt kicks to loosen up during ultramarathons, so I do a few. After running a little bit, I realize something's not right. My right quadricep is so tight. What's going on? I half run, half walk back to Tent City and sit down. Sarah and Sperv feed me. Justin can tell I'm thinking hard. "What's up?"

"My quad's messed up."

He makes me walk a lap and goes with me. Maybe it'll loosen up....right? Wrong.

Eileen Steil happens to be crewing for Michael Gaertner, a past Deca Iron winner, in the shelter next to mine. She's a massage therapist and one of the only American ladies to finish the Deca. She comes over and has me get on her table. She tapes me up and we go walking up the road for a lap.

I can barely even walk now. It hurts to pick my foot up off the ground. It hurts to even move my leg a centimeter. It's decision time. The doctor looks at it. Probably a strain...and probably shouldn't keep going and turn it into a tear. It's early morning on Sunday...like 1am. I decide to hit the sack and wake up in a few hours to make a coherent decision.

When I wake up the sun is rising. I keep my sleeping bag on, don't say anything to anyone and start walking. Justin comes along.

A mile in, and I know it's over. I have an angel on one shoulder telling me I did well just to go this far. I have a demon on the other telling me I have to now go home and tell people I couldn't make it. I couldn't even look at the timers when I handed them my chip because I knew I would lose it.

I found it very difficult to cope with the abrupt end of my race. I never expected it that way. Before the race, I figured that if I was going to DNF, it would be because of outright fatigue.

So much learned. I now know what to expect. I know what I need to work on. Some would let a DNF ruin them. Some would dwell on it.

I'll dwell on it, alright. I'll let it simmer and motivate me all winter long.

Here's to Progression.

To the Hunt.

krp

Quintuple Your Pleasure, Quintuple Your Fun

I realized I haven't updated in a couple weeks.

This is the time of year that weird stuff just materializes.
You think you've got your schedule planned out, and then something new hits you right in the teeth.

My recovery is fine. I'd say I'm 90 percent. I need to get flexible to make it to 100%.
I'm pretty tight still.

You may have read the sidebar, but let me fill you in.
I was content on going back to Virginia for the Triple, but then I get an email from Pete(deca dude, as I have come to call him in the blog):
"Wanna race Monterrey next year?"

Ummm....YES.
So I do some thinking and scheming.
I bounce the idea off Eileen Steil, one of the only American ladies to ever finish the Deca.
We come to the conclusion that I'm too young for the Deca...but not for the Quin.

I'll be 27 next year. Still a solid 10 years off of peak.
There's a chance, if I am smart, that I can really do ok at this Ultra triathlon thing.
Who knows.

Some new developments:
-Sponsors are coming in slowly. Rocky Mountain has given me a great deal and terms on a bike frame, as well as some pretty amazing clothing.
-now going to Northern Physical Therapy 5 days a week to work out and do injury prevention.
-Beginning to work with a nutritionist so that I can get everything I need to out of my diet.

I guess things are coming together pretty early, which is a good sign.
This morning I had a moment of hesitation....is it too early to be "in the zone"?
Then I remembered one of my favorite quotes of all time:
"There is no such thing as burnout...just loss of appetite."
Wish I could remember who said that.

I don't think there's a worry for loss of appetite.
There are a few goals that I won't be posting on here that are keeping me quite hungry.
Big things.

Never in a million years when I started this triathlon thing did think I would be even considering races like these.
I feel very blessed to be supported by so many amazing people.
The caliber of people around me is top notch, and I could never be doing what I am doing now without the circle of friends that I have.
Thank You.

krp

Win Win

Lots of exciting things going on this week.

Got two good runs in this week.
The first 40 minute run was interesting. Felt rusty and lots of weird kinks.
Tonight's 45 minute run was amazing. Effortless.
I need to share this.
The world of pain I went into during the triple has upped the ante. I can't explain it, but I felt so different out there tonight.
A new confidence or something. The pain threshold has been raised. I want to test it so badly, but I know its too early for that.

Bob, the store's Rocky Mountain rep is checking into getting me a new bike frame. Carbon. Sexy. This is long overdue...my bikes pushing 10 years old!

So ready to dive back in.

It feels so good to be back.


kp