Without a hitch, I start reading about about people complaining about Ironman and the World Triathlon Corporation.  People bitch about the World Triathlon Corporation (WTC) and all their corporate greed by raising prices on the entry fees. And never would they want to get an Ironman “M Dot” tattoo because it’s a corporate logo and no different than putting a McDonald’s or Shell Oil logo on. Really? Reallllllly?

The anti business hippies out there might hate it, but WTC has been absolutely great for the sport. It’s the freemarket working as it should. Because of “Ironman”, our sport has exploded. Everyone wants to be an “Ironman” now. Ironman has tried hard to control the brand and experience, and because of their success, they’ve raised prices. This has pushed the ceiling up and allowed other race directors to raise their rates and yet still be considered a bargain. REV3 has Ironman to thank for its success. Ironman brought in the participants, and created a gap in the market for a well run race at a more reasonable cost. If I were REV3 I would be sending WTC a bottle of Dom Perignon every Christmas.Those raised prices allow more directors to make money and more races to show up on the calendar. Thanks to WTC’s explosion in participation those smaller races get filled.

With more athletes and more races, there are more products for us to choose from. Look at any product category 6 years ago and the selection is very thin. Now, you can choose from 10 disc wheel makers and dozens of trispecific bikes. In fact, this year Specialized decided to give the UCI the middle finger and develop a tribike that’s not UCI legal. I expect to see more of that, as we as a sport can now support a move like that where before we couldn’t. Some mentioned that the little guys get pushed out, but everything I’ve seen is just the opposite. This year they put Ironman Texas  in my backyard and I can’t even count the number of events, camps, coaches, etc, that have popped up around here. And all this stuff is pretty much selling out.

Some don’t like like the whole corporate logo thing and I understand the sentiment that “Ironman” is the public’s term, not some corporation. The same can be said of the Olympics. Created in a public forum a very long time ago, and now a tightly regulated corporate brand in the modern era. The reality though, is that people desire to be an Olympian even more now than ever. One good event there and you are potentially set for life. Bruce Jenner anyone? (And I wonder if these same people are poo-pooing someone getting an Olympic tattoo because it’s some corporate logo?) Same could be said of Ironman on a smaller scale. Look at the insane demand to get into Kona. The demand and growth were created because it was tightly guarded, not because a bunch of drunk military buddies came up with the idea in a bar back in ’77.

Am I personally going to race IM branded races exclusively? Heck no. But Ironman made the race pool bigger, so now I have more races to choose from when I want a great race at a decent price.

And no…I don’t have a tattoo. Been on the fence now since ’97 when I did my first, and I think now I’m just a chicken.

I know that not everyone agrees with me and that’s fine. I appreciate you reading. Now you can head back to protesting corporate greed while you talk on your  iPhone and drink your Starbucks.

Additionally, the shorts have 2 small, well designed pockets that are big enough to fit a gel or two, and sleek enough that you forget they’re there if you don’t need em. All in all, a great pair of shorts. So great, in fact, that I wore them for Ironman Hawaii with great success. Not a single rub or problem (which may be a first for me in an Ironman distance race).

With this being Nike’s first attempt at a tri short in over 20 years, I’m excited to see what year 2 will bring from them. Welcome to the triathlon party, Nike. Glad you’re finally here.

For those new to swimming or unfamiliar with the term, bilateral breathing means to breathe to both the right and left side while you swim. Simple enough concept. Sorta like dribbling with your right and left hand when you play basketball. The problem is that quite a few new swimmers (and let’s face it, a lot of swimmers who’ve been at it for a while) shy away from it because it feels awkward and can take a while to adjust to. Added to that that, if you’re struggling with swimming to begin with, and then you must hold your breath for 2 strokes (if you’re breathing every 3) then you’re going to get winded in a hurry. But just because it’s difficult shouldn’t mean you gloss over the idea. The benefits associated with it are many. In fact, as you might have guessed, I’m going to go over a few of them here.

Sighting – For triathletes this is the most obvious argument that is made, and perhaps, one of the least important. In any given open water swim, you are bound to get the sun in your face at some point. So if you are breathing to your right side and the sun is in your face, then the ability to breathe to your left is a great help in navigating your way through the course. The reason I say that this might be the least important is that you can also just close your eyes when you breathe and lift your head to sight in front of you to get around this problem. Not a great solution, but it will do the trick.

Symmetrical Technique – This one’s a biggie. Almost without exception, swimmers will have a strong side and a weak side. Right handed? Then your right arm/pull is typically stronger than your left. To make matters worse, swimmers will cater to the strong side by breathing to the strong side. A the domino effect begins..In order to breathe just to one side (we’ll use the right for this discussion)  they start swimming with the left shoulder lower in the water to make for an easier breath.  This makes one arm pull deeper than the other. To compensate for that they begin to reach a little further with the right arm to get a bigger pull with the strong arm. This soon turns into an overreach, and now there is a slight wiggle in their stroke. In order to compensate for the wiggle, the swimmer adds one really large kick with his right foot to get the body to rotate back over. Now he has a scissor kick and can’t swim in a straight line. What started out as favoring one side of breathing a little has turned into a bit of a messy stroke. This isn’t an exaggeration either. I have corrected a stroke just like this on numerous occasions by simply forcing them to breathe every 3rd stroke to make the pull symmetrically. There are other examples I could give such as dropping the elbow and breaking form when you breathe, but this is a blog, not a book.
Notice the asymmetrical strokes in the following videos. Strong swimmers, but the uneven stroke is costing them efficiency.

Rotation – Good body rotation is a big focus in learning how to swim well. Grab any book on the subject of swimming and rotation is mentioned early and often. When you choose to breathe on just one side though, you only develop half of that rotation. Because you’re favoring (as I mentioned above) one side, you will not rotate fully back to the other side. This is also at trap when people breathe just to the right for a length and then just to the left for a length. It’s a typical workaround for those who just hate breathing every 3rd stroke. So by favoring one side you rotate well in one direction and then finish rotating on the other side completely flat on their stomach. By not continually alternating your breathing you don’t learn proper rotation, you just learn how to drop a shoulder.

Swimming Straight – This is also a play off of the technique issue (isn’t everything a play off of technique with swimming?). An imbalance in your stroke leads to swimming crooked. It’s quite simple really. If one arm has a bigger reach/stroke than another, even if by a tiny amount, then the stronger arm/bigger stroke will control the direction. Never an issue in the pool as you have a black line and your hands naturally adjust pitch to steer in a straight line. Get in open water however, and you you’ll find yourself swimming all over the place. Happens to everyone. When I breathe to my left I tend to steer right just a little. Still working on that.

Now, I know the first thing some of you are thinking. “Well I watched (Insert Name Here) race in the Olympics/Ironman/World Cup, and they breathed to the same side the whole race. If they don’t do it why should I think it’s important? Answer is pretty simple really. When you race, technique needs to almost be automatic and getting enough air needs to be the focus. In training, you are focusing on technique so that it becomes automatic, so that needs to be the focus. In other words, when the effort is big (training or racing) get your air, but the rest of the time dial in that stroke.

If nothing else, watch the best swimmers do it. If you think it’s tough and they make it look easy…maybe, just maybe, there’s something to it.

Now go breathe right…..and left.

As promised, on first inspection they are a Speed Socket top to bottom, so if you’re curious about fit, swing by your local swim store (tri shops and general sporting goods stores won’t carry these. They are elite level racing goggles) and try a pair on. If you’re used to Vanquishers, then this won’t be much different. Might even be a little more comfortable. If however, the larger sized goggles or swim masks are more your bag, then they might take a little getting used to. Being a swedish goggle man myself, this was more goggle than I’m used to, but for me they are considerably more comfortable than the Vanquisher.

The real beauty is what you see. Everything. It surprised me at first. I didn’t realize how much glare in a goggle messes with you. Now there’s something to compare it to. The vision is crystal clear and it cuts the glare wonderfully. I almost felt like I was on one of those Blu-Blocker commercials while I swapped back and forth. Now, admittedly I haven’t used them in open water just yet so I can’t give you a play by play on swimming into the sun and how they cut that reflection off the water. What I do know is that they are going to be 100 times better than my smoke goggles I’ve been using.

So who needs these goggles? Someone who trains outdoors and those who swim in open water, whether it be triathlons or open water races. If you have sun hitting your face, you are going to want these goggles. If you train indoors and compete in indoor pools, then skip it. I don’t see any advantage to swimming under fluorescent lights with these things. With a glowing review like this, there’s got to be a downside right? Well, there is the price. The Speed Socket Polarized sell for $65. That’s quite a leap from what we come to expect from goggle pricing. Then again, this is quite a leap from what we come to expect from goggle vision too. If you find yourself squinting during a swim, it’ll be worth every penny.

In terms of the race itself,  I equate my trip here to that of a Serbian swimmer or a Cuban marathon runner in the Olympics. It’s awesome to be on the world’s greatest stage, but I have absolutely no hope of really competing for a podium, so this is more of a participation day of sorts. This is a race full of studs, so when you swim once a week and bike once or twice a week, it’s not realistic to think you’re going to show up and kick butt.  Anyway, onto race day…

got up at 4:30 am after being awake since 2am, choked down two hard boiled eggs and packed up my special needs bags. Rip, Steve and I walked down to body marking, etc. I noticed that it was the first time since we had been there that we could see the top of the mountain.  Cool to see, but not a good sign. I thought right then that the cool, cloud covered days we’ve had were not happening today. Kona was gonna deliver some conditions it’s famous for.

I laid low and stretched while the pros got in and started. Once the pros took off they let us in the water and I got in rather quickly. I I wanted to get a good warm up and a good position. I looked it up the day before and saw that the tide was to be coming out during the start, so I lined up further away from the pier than I have in previous years. As the start came closer and closer the crowds grew and the fighting for position became more intense. My experience has been that Kona is the worst for this kind of stuff. With no first timers, you get all the aggressive types in one body of water. With a few minutes to go I’m stiff arming one person while my back is pressed firmly up against another and my leg is kicking/bumping a third to keep from getting squeezed out. This year I even had people yelling at each other  (One especially pleasant fellow told me that I was “really fu*king annoying” ). Unpleasant is an understatement. Violent would be more appropriate. I know that most of these people aren’t going to be my problem when the gun goes off, but it’s hard to convince them of that. It can be a high stress situation. The gun finally goes off and I hit the gas. I took about 6 strokes to get clear of the fighting, and then another 50 yards or so to have some open space.

15 seconds after the canon

Then I wind it down a notch about every 5 strokes until I’m in my pace. My burst got me the lead. As we swam, on my right, or from me to the pier-side of the course, there were some fast swimmers about a body-length back. on my left side, there were 2 guys that had come around and passed me. I hit the gas again to get on their feet. The pace was really brisk for a while. After a number of minutes I saw the group that had formed from their move and decided to settle into a more comfortable pace on some feet next to me. In a matter of a few more minutes, the pace of the group slowed considerably. I guessed the guys on the front had either gotten away or settled down. From this point, it was a steady, mostly comfortable swim with the exception of the waves. Seemed a bit rough. Additionally, there were a bunch of boats out in the area, and when a boat would decide to move to another location, they would hit the gas and create some huge waves for us. Throws you off balance because you get into a rhythm with the ocean and then get clobbered by a bunch of rogue boat waves. I sat towards the back of our group and noticed that we had a nice gap on the next group. Coming into the pier I looked ahead and could see that our group stayed together and didn’t spread out. So I would be within 30 seconds or so of the lead of the race  (give or take ).  (In looking in the results later I believe 1 person gapped a few seconds on us and got out solo ). Got to the stairs and felt great. 12th out of the water  (the results that show 48th include the pros and the dnf’s) with a time that confirmed to me that it was a little tougher than normal.

The ride from the pier up to the hot corner is fantastic. Just enormous crowds. Then there’s the little 5 mile circuit through Kona that is mostly uphill. It’s sort of unsettling because it makes it hard to get into a pace and lower your heart rate. At the turnaround at the top of the climb just south of town you can see all the way down to the ocean and the swim course. I could see people rounding the turn out there  (man, that swim looks realllllly long from up there ). Got out onto the Queen K in 22nd place overall and headed north with a very slight tailwind. It was here that I could settle in on a pace. This is also the part of my day that starts to wear on my mind if I let it. See, as a good swimmer and a mediocre biker  (that’s what you get when you ride 1 or 2 times a week ) in Kona, I get it absolutely handed to me out here. It’s a constant stream of bikes blowing by. By local Texas standards I’m pretty good at riding, but today there were 200 age groupers under 5 hours on the bike. So here in Kona, I feel like the fat kid riding slow. As the ride progresses the packs begin to come by. It’s pretty easy to pick out those who are trying to ride clean and those that don’t give a damn. The race marshals were doing the best they could nabbing people, but some of the packs are huge. the Queen K has almost no flat spots, but the hills are all of the big ring variety, so there’s nothing overly challenging to climb. I took the left off of the Queen to 270, and after a very brisk downhill, you begin the climb to Hawi. I had been feeling ok up until this point but not great. Once the climb started though, I really started feeling my cycling legs. I was still getting passed, but not nearly as much, and actually started passing some of the bigger cyclists who started suffering on the climb and those who went out too hard. While the entire course would be considered windy, this section is where the legendary winds show up.  (A few days earlier I was registering next to an athlete who was racing here for the first time. She told me how she drove out to this section to ride and the wind almost blew her off the road. She immediately got off the bike and told her family she wasn’t racing. They convinced her to try it again, and it wasn’t until she relaxed a bit in this wind that she thought she could even do the bike. )I felt great during the climb. got to the turn and passed on my special needs. I still had plenty of calories on me so it wasn’t worth the stop. This is where the descent begins, and with the crosswinds the way they were, there were some hairy sections. Once I got over 40 mph I really focused of the athletes in front of me. I could see when and athlete got blown sideways and had to stabilize so as not to crash, and that would tell me where the crosswind gusts where hitting. With the exception of a few sketchy moments, the descent was uneventful. Well almost. Towards the bottom of the descent I got passed by a rider like I had a few hundred times before. We were going just over 30 mph into a turn/bank to the left that immediately becomes a nasty little climb to get back onto the Queen K. Those who’ve raced here know exactly where I’m talking about as it’s probably the second steepest hill next to Palani. Anyway, this guy passes me right as we turn left and he then sits up and coasts. I was trying to get a drink and didn’t pay real close attention to him, but then realized I am closing in on this guy and am not yet clear of the draft zone, so I sit up and coast. Wasn’t doing any good though as we slow to about 9mph, and I heard a motorcyle pull up behind me. The only way I could get clear in enough time was to hit brakes and come to a stop, so I just figured the marshall would see the situation and understand the circumstances. I was wrong. So the marshall pulls up next to me and and nabs me for drafting at 9mph. ARE YOU KIDDING ME!! At first I was furious, then I calmed down a bit and accepted my fate. I know they are there for good reason, and, by the letter of the law it did take me too long to get clear. Whatever. Not going to let it ruin my day, and I know that I race clean. So I got to the penalty tent a few miles down the road and served my time. I remember seeing Paula Newby-Fraser and other pros serve time in the penalty tent and mentioning that it was a plus because it gave you a little time to focus on hydration and fueling. So the second I got there, I got off the bike, started stretching, eating and drinking. I had really hoped that I would feel like a new man after that, but it ended up not helping at all.

Came out of T2 and started running up Palani. After a few hundred yards and you turn right off Palani, I could feel the running legs showing up. I was able to settle into my pace pretty quick with the help of my heart rate monitor. Ran past my hotel and all my friends just before mile 1 and got a huge burst of energy. Boy Oh boy does support help. As I ran down Alii I could see the women’s race unfold. Was surprised that Chrissie was not leading. At the top of the hill around mile 1 I saw Dibens laying on the road looking like death warmed over. Seeing the ambulance screaming her way told me my assessment was right. Clicked the first mile off at 7:34 and felt pretty comfortable, though the heat was wearing on me in a hurry. I began my own little heat management process immediately. Ice in the crotch, ice down the shirt, hold ice in both hands and swallow as much ice as I could muster. Everything stayed steady through Alii and mile 10 when I saw my friends again, and then headed out to the famous lava fields. At Palani hill, I knew I was going to walk, because that thing is flat out steep. It cost me an extra 4 minutes, but I didn’t care. That hill is a dream killer.
Out on the Queen K I again felt pretty good. And this literally  put a smile on my face because this is where the wheels have come off before. Was I actually going to have a good day here? Nahhh. Something is bound to go wrong. This section is typically where the head can be the worst, but I’m telling you right now that I think God was looking out for me, because some clouds moved in for the next 6 miles to the energy lab. This is also a great section to be a fan, because you can see the pro’s race playing out. Chrissie ran by with Rinny not far behind at all. Also got to see some of the pro men who didn’t have a banner day like Lieto. Took the left into the energy lab and still felt surprising solid. Was even passing chunks of people. In previous trips, the energy lab has been a spot where problems have cropped up, but this time not so much. The only issue I was starting to have was a little light-headedness if my heart rate climbed too high. This meant that I had to walk-run the hill out of the energy lab so as not to lose it. This persisted all the way back to town. Plenty of energy in the legs, well hydrated, yet light-headed on the uphill. Something I need to figure out and work on. Saw my good friend Kim Hager around mile 24  (she was on her way out ) and then saw an old high school friend  (Tiffany Hirtle Lindsey )shortly after. Seeing Tiffany was a big energy boost as I realized that this race was in the books and I was still having a good day. Made the turn down Palani Hill and then the left onto Kuakini.5 Five years ago it was this spot where I stopped and essentially dropped down to my knees, thinking I wasn’t going to be able to make another step. I stared at that spot as I ran by. Boy, what a difference this year was from year’s past. Made the turn towards Alii and saw my friends Rip and Steven again. Finally, FINALLY I was going to get to see what everyone talks about with this finish. It struck me as odd at first with so many people (sounds crazy I know), then it got a bit emotional. I soaked up the finish like it was my last Kona finish ever. You never know, it might just be…

Got a volunteer to walk with me to the food and massage.I was very dizzy. Had some chicken broth and some pizza. Got a massage, photos and picked up my gear. Went home, cleaned up and went out to eat a big fat burger and a beer at the Kona Canoe Club that sits on the water over looking the bay and the finish line. Then went back to see the last finishers at midnight. It was a great day that I’ll not soon forget. And finally, a good day to visit the Queen.                                                                                                                                                                                            

I should probably back up a few weeks and provide a little lead up to race day first. This was a year that I was able to hit a lot of big races and truly get to race like a pro. Big races, big destinations and huge training days. Great fun. About 5 weeks before Ironman, I had a race in Nansei, Japan. Went out there with a few other Americans (Garrett McCarthy and Becky (Gibbs) Lavelle to name a couple), along with some others from around the world. They put us up in pairs and my roomate was New Zealander Cameron Brown. Lots of great stories came from that week, but that’s another day. I had a rough day on a rough course and finished 7th overall. I was in the middle of my Ironman build and was trying to get my iron levels back to normal after a summer at altitude, so I wasn’t happy, but satisfied considering.

Back in Texas, training was pretty intense for me. I was basically doing a 1/2 Ironman every day of the week, and then hit a long run and ride on the weekend on top of that.  350 miles a week riding and 60 running was getting logged, along with swimming under Eddie Reese and the University of Texas men’s team a few days a week (nothing humbles you quicker than swimming repeat 500′s, holding 5min or under and worrying about getting lapped). I didn’t fully know what to expect with Kona, but knew that if I had any hope of playing along, I needed to hit some big volume. It was about as much as my 23 year old body could handle, and as it turned out, maybe a little too much. On too Kona…

Got up at 4:40am. Had 2 Ensure type drinks, a banana and a powerbar for breakfast. Emmanuel Millet, of one of my sponsors,  Aquaman Wetsuits, picked me up and took me to the start. Waited my turn to get marked and pump up the tires, then waited again to hit the port-a-potty. Ran out of time to get a run warmup, so I ran in place for a few minutes to get the blood pumping. Then it was time. So I got in and warmed up in the water.

Then the strangest thing happened. Everyone is trained in this sport to the air horn. Typical start for any race around. Ironman uses a cannon, but for some reason decided to use the air horn as the 5 minute warning. I think you know where this is going. For the first and only time in Ironman history, there was a false start. The horn went off and I nailed that start, broke free of all the pros and began gapping immediately. 150 yards later a wall of lifeguards stopped us. Bummer. So they backed up 1500 athletes and got them positioned again. The cannon sounds and I jump to the lead again, but this time some of the steam was gone and got a group right on my feet. I lead out to the turn with Wolfgang Ditrich right on my heels. On the way back I figured someone else should take a turn and Wolfgang moved up. As we approached the finish I could sense the excitement in our group of 4 and felt the pace quicken bit by bit. I knew that first out usually got big camera time and I wasn’t really interested. I wanted an even race. So I let them sprint to the dock and came out 4th in 49:39

Ran through transition and passed 2 in the tent. Only Wolfgang was in front of my now.  Rolled up Palani Hill, the enormous crowds and out on the Queen K (Slightly different course back then). Settled into my pace in 2nd place on the road. Sitting out there I had the company of 2 helicopters, and various press vehicles zooming by. Around 50 minutes into the ride, the first pack of contenders rolled by that contained Tim and Tony Deboom. Shortly after came all the big names. Jurgen Zack, Lothar Leder, (eventual winner) Thomas Hellriegel, Peter Reid, Christian Bustos, Cameron Widoff, Ken Glah and a couple of others. (note: looking back, this was one of those moments in your life that you look back on and smile.) I rode with the clan for a while and remembering thinking how the pace was not that bad. Out of my range for 112 at the time, but definitely attainable. Then the day started to turn it’s twisted turn for me. I began getting cramps in my left hamstring. Not that intense, but something that I needed to pay attention to. So I eased off a bit and kept stretching it out. Playing this stretch then pedal game spit me off the back of the group and there was now only 1 other rider with me. Lothar Leder. We rode in proximity of each other up the climb and headwind out to Hawi. At the turn in Hawi I somehow missed my special needs bag, which meant I had to improvise the rest of the ride and live off the aid stations. It pissed me off at the time, but it was a great lesson to learn.

We had a nice tailwind coming down from Hawi, but when we got back to the Queen K, it became a stiff headwind of 30 mph all the way home. This is where my next problems showed up. The bottom of my right foot began cramping pretty intensely and there was noway for me to stretch it (no, getting off my bike and taking off my shoe was not an option). Additionally, the course drink by MetRx was not sitting well with me. Felt completely bloated, so I switched to Coke. As the ride wore on, the foot was getting worse. The cramp had now spread and climbed midway up my calf. The pain was getting beyond intense and the horrible wind didn’t help. I clocked 12mph on a downhill in one of the nastier stretches. Just outside Kona I was about at my breaking point and actually began to cry briefly. Thankfully I arrived in town shortly after and was protected from the wind. T2 was about 8 miles south of the swim back then, so I still had a ways to go, but was happy to see faces. A good friend and fellow pro at the time, Tim Watson rolled up next to me about this point. We exchanged a few words and rode to T2 together.

I got off my bike and had trouble putting weight on my foot. One of the volunteers rubbed my foot while I changed and headed out with Tim (No idea of transition times as back then they were both added to your bike time). Steep climb out of T2 and then in and out of the “pit”. As I ran I felt better but never great. Pace dropped into the 7:20′s and then slowly crept upwards. 1:41 at the half, and began catching some of those who dropped me on the bike. Shortly after 13, I started running into problems again and the pace jumped about 1 min per mile. Held onto this pace until around mile 20 when the bottom just fell out. Pace jumped to well over 12 minute miles. Started stopping at every aid station and legs began stiffening. Started asking for potato chips at aid stations and people were digging through their personal belongings to get me some. Then I began peeing every other mile or so. Final miles were in a blurr. Very little memory of the run back into town to the finish. I crossed the line and walked over to my parents. We went over to the food and I began to try to eat. While talking to them I began to lose my vision. Everything was going blurry and I went from feeling bad to feeling like death. Some doctors came over and carried me into the med tent. Began to feel very cold and temperature began to drop. I overheard the doctors say that I was going into shock and then heard one yell at me to stop letting my eyes roll back in my head. Then every movement caused cramping. Even my jaw cramped. 3 I.V.’s and a shot of magnesium (for the cramping) and I came out of it. Bottom line: my sodium levels dropped too low and hyponatremia kicked in. I crept to the car and headed to the hotel, with my tail firmly between my legs.

It was one of the worst experiences and best experiences I’ve ever been through. I decided that night that I would never attempt another Ironman again. It just wasn’t my bag. Olympic and 1/2 Ironman were more my thing.

Then I got on the plane to head home and noticed that if I had just changed my nutrition like this and adjusted my training like that, then maybe I could…..

And that my friends, is how addictions begin.

Jump forward to 1994.  I was swimming at Clemson University but decided to race the Buffalo Springs Lake Triathlon in Lubbock over the summer. My preparation time was short because of swim obligations but very dedicated once those ended(I mean come on, I’m IN COLLEGE. Not like free time was scarce.) That race turned out to be one of the hottest race days on record (108 degrees). I was able to race a 4:29 and picked up a slot to Kona. Only problem was, I was on scholarship and they would have none of it. Hawaii would just have to wait.

In 1997, I was in my second season as a pro, and I actually qualified for Kona twice that season. FINALLY! It was time to meet the queen, who I’d been obsessing over for a decade now. And I would be ready. Afterall, I had no ‘real’ job. I trained all day. Unfortunately though, that turned out to be one of the problems. I was training like a fool at altitude and by late August, I was borderline anemic. Throw in a couple trips to the other side of the world to my diet and I was pooped. Nonetheless, with the help of Phil Maffetone, George Dallam (the US National Triathlon Team Coach at the time) and UT’s Eddie Reese, arguably the best swim coach that has ever stepped on the planet, I prepared for Kona they way a 23 year old should. LIKE CRAZY.

Face swelling during the run. Not my best look

I finally met her in October of ’97, and I’ll be honest, she was in a pissy mood. The 1997 Ironman has gone down as one of the toughest Kona races in history. From Ironman.com:

“Thomas Hellriegel leads a trifecta of Germans first across the finish line in race conditions that longtime Ironman competitor

Scott Tinley calls the toughest ever. Strong and steady headwinds averaging 30 mph slow the bike and cloudless skies with temperatures in the low 90s combine to produce the slowest finish times in a decade. The conditions set the stage for the biggest surprise victory in the history of the women’s race as Heather Fuhr of Canada, renowned for her ability to handle the heat, runs nearly 15 minutes faster than any of the top five women to claim her first Ironman title in 9:31:43.”

(http://ironman.com/mediacenter/history/ironman-triathlon-world-championship#axzz1ShcxRdim)

If memory serves there were only 11 men to break 5 hours on the bike, and the conditions caused names like Natasha Badmann, Paula Newby Fraser, Tony Deboom, Holly Nybo, etc. to drop out. This was also the year of Chris Legh collapsing 50 feet from the finish (ever see that Gatorade commercial?). You also had on the women’s side, the crawl for 5th place between Sian Welch and Wendy Ingram (Here).

Fun in the med tent

I finished that day. Barely. The cramping began around mile 25 for me on the bike. first in the the glutes and then in the feet.  I cried on the bike. Literally cried. The run started much better, but trouble began again around mile 13. Where was mile 13 in 1997 you ask? Well it was essentially the entry point to the Queen K. Yes, the Queen. I’ve discussed various aspects of that race here before, but to give you the quickie version, my body was shutting down. I finished that day in 10:23, but I don’t remember the last 3 miles very well. After crossing the line, I began losing my vision and started going into shock. After a few hours with the medical staff, I went home, tail firmly between my legs.

Fast forward to 2006. I had since left my pro career behind me and signed up for Ironman Arizona more to lose weight and get fit than anything. The race went well and I qualified again. It was time to see her again and make things right. This time was different though. My goal wasn’t to kick ass and take names, rather to enjoy the experience of Kona  and have a finish down Alii Drive that I could remember.

Day started well enough. I had an easy but relatively slow swim, and the first part of the bike was going great. I was enjoying my day. This was also the year of the Hawaiian earthquake 1 week before the race. No major damage in town but small sections of the bike course were closed because of damage. It also left tiny shards of lava rock on the course. Unfortunately for me, I was able to pick up a few in my tire, causing the first flat in my race history. Not a huge problem as time wasn’t the goal. Got fixed up and finished the bike in good spirits.

Then came the run. I still don’t really know what went wrong that day. Sometimes I think sun poisoning, sometimes overheating. Just not sure. But in the few miles running on the Queen K, I went from good to bad and bad to horrible. By mile 18 I could no longer run. Not a step. Not because I was tired, but because I felt so sick I thought I might pass out if I tried. Walking a straight line was a challenge at times. I did a lot of praying that day, and somehow I made it back into Kona. As I made the final turn to Alii Drive the skies opened up and it started to absolutely pour. Every spectator ran for shelter. I got to the last 100 yards and was greeted by the town bum. Yes, you read that right. The town drunk/vagrant/bum/hobo/homeless guy, whatever you want to call him, was there insisting he help me to the finish. So I finished the 2006 Hawaiian Ironman in a downpour, no one around, with a bum. Magical ain’t it?

I’m not real sure why it is, but I still can’t wait to see her. And THIS time, its going to be a great experience. 3rd times a charm right? I just hope the Queen is in a good mood.

Aloha.

More info here:

http://www.onurleft.com/ONURMARK_PRODUCTIONS/TX3_BRIDGELAND_TRIATHLON_-_Home.html

Power is an output. Just like speed or pace, it’s a result of the effort, or stress, that you put your body through. And similar to all outputs, it’s absolute. In fact that’s one of the talking points that the uber powermeter crowd touts. A watt is a watt. I would agree. Most outputs are. A pace is a pace, a mph is a mph. BUT, and this is a big but, your body’s ability to produce that watt is variable. And therin lies rub #1.

A lot of the discussion out there is that a power meter is more accurate than a heart rate monitor, so just training via power  alone is a better way to go. I gotta say, that statement doesn’t really make a lot of sense to me. That’s like saying the fuel gage in your car is more accurate than the temperature gage. They measure 2 entirely different things. Powermeters measure the power that your body has generated. Heartrate measures the stress your body is under while you produce that power. So if you leave the heart rate monitor at home for your next ride or race and simply go by the goal wattage that you have calculated for the event, you may be setting yourself up for a tough day. This is because 250 watts in hour 1 in comfortable weather is much different that 250 watts in hour 5 in the heat. It’s these slow changes over time that make it so critical to have an eye on your body while you have the other on the power.

Another problem you run into is the need for constant testing if you want to do it right. Since a watt has no connection with effort of the body, your improvement will be tougher to recognize without constant testing. For instance, lets take our fictional athete Joe. He does a threshold test for power and comes up with a wattage of 100. So he builds a training plan around that wattage and follows it to the T.  After a couple weeks of training though, his body has adapted and improved. So now his effort level has dropped well below what it was intended to maintain the test goal power. Because of lower effort levels his improvement stagnates some. The next test shows that his power has increased to 150.  So somewhere along the way he should have increased the ride wattage to keep up with his improvement. Without testing though, it’d only be a guess. 

Now take Larry who trains wattage and heart rate, but does his threshold tests based on heart rate. So Larry finds that at his threshold heart rate of of 150 he is crankin out 100 watts as well. Larry follows his plan just as religiously, except Larry’s wattage increases througout the training cycle as he maintains the goal heart rates. The next time Larry tests he finds that his his threshold heart rate has increased to 152, but his wattage at that effort level is now 165. Larry’s rate of improvement is faster because he’s monitoring both the stress of the work and the output of that stress.

The other big problem with training exclusively with watts has less to do with the technology and more with the approach. If you look through the training practices, you’ll see that there are goal and average wattages that tested for. So Joe buys a powermeter, tests for his functional threshold power (ftp) and finds an average or goal power for any given distance. So far so good, but the next part is the problem. Once given the average power, Joe tries to stay at that average regardless of terrain. So he ends up riding  easier than normal up the hill and then harder than normal on the descent.  On the surface, not a big deal, but add in aerodynamics and wind resistance and the worm starts to turn. The air resistance on the climb is much different than the descent not to mention the gravitational resistance.  So while power is much more important on the climb, Joe eases up, and when aerodynamics are much more important on the descent, Joe pushes harder. Need an example? Where is the Tour de France won and lost? The mountains. An not just the mountains, but the climbs. If you have 2 riders exactly the same size, and both average 250 watts for a ride, they should have the same time, right? Wrong.

Take rider A, who does just as I mentioned earlier. His goal for average watts is 250, so he keeps that wattage across the entire ride. Up hill, downhill, flats, whatever. His effort is balanced and his ride seems strong. Well done.

Now take rider B, who rides the exact same course and averages the exact same wattage, but takes into account all aspects of the ride. On the climbs when he can get the most power bang for his buck, he pushes 350 watts instead of 250. While this is a bit more tiring, he also makes huge ground on rider A. With little air resistance climbing, all that added power translates directly into speed. Then, rider B only puts up 150 watts on the descent, and at times, even coasts. Why? because the air resistence is exponentially stiffer as speed increases, so with a focus on aerodynamics and rest, rider B only loses a small amount of time to rider A and is able to fully recover.

"The Look"

Now the real world example (although admittedly a bit extreme). Watch a mountain stage of the Tour de France. All the moves are made on the uphill because the power output most directly influences the pace. Once you’re dropped, it’s pretty much over. Sure, riders can make up some time on the downhill, but it’s incredibly small by comparision, even if the wattage is considerably greater than your compeition. You could even call it return on investment.  So while you kill it on the downhill and get a small return, your competition is banking that effort for the uphill, where they will get a huge return by comparison.

So if you get more bang for your buck generating more power on the uphill, how can you tell when more power is too much power for you to handle? That great big red thing between your boobies. Strap on a heart rate monitor my friend, and find out how much stress your putting on yourself.

Power on Wayne. Power on Garth.