Matcha Green Tea Shake

I'm not a big coffee drinker, in fact, I drink coffee so infrequently that I can recall the last three times. And all three times happened with this girl: when I took her to Philz in December, when the Starbuck's barista spelled both of our names wrong (Kite & Shereesa) during the Coast Ride in January, and when I flew down to San Diego for the ITU race in April. Drinking coffee is either a social or an athletic performance thing for me. If I need a caffeine boost, my preferred choice is a matcha green tea shake. I buy matcha green tea powder from Berkeley Bowl, a hippy co-op market. To make the shake, combine one cup of any non-dairy milk of your choice (coconut, almond, soy, or even a mixture of 2 or 3), with 1/2 tablespoon of matcha green tea powder, and 1-2 tablespoons of coconut crystals. Blend the mixture together with either a milk frother, or I use a Cuisinart SmartStick. This is a creamy, not too sweet, and mild tasting shake to start your day. I must admit the matcha green tea taste is not for everyone. Try it and let me know what you think.

New Finds

I'm taking a mid-season break, and I took six days off from any type of training/exercise, but it has felt like 3 weeks. I'm not going to do any formal training until the end of May, and until then, I will focus on weight training and building muscle mass. I will swim/bike/run as exercise. Since there isn't much to blog on the training front, I thought I would finally revisit two new finds that has helped my racing this season. I should also preface my review of the following two products, and say that I am not sponsored by either of these products.

First up is Extreme Endurance. Charisa gave me these tablets to try with the instruction not to follow the instructions on the bottle. Instead, a couple of days before a race, I should start using the tablets. My regimen is two days out from the race, I pop 3 tablets every morning, and then I take 3 tablets race morning. That's it. These tablets do exactly what they claim, they get rid of the burning feeling in your legs during hard efforts. I've read lots of race reports where the race didn't go so well, and a lot of these bad races are a result of feeling dead and/or burning legs. Extreme Endurance basically reduces your chances of getting the dead/burning leg feeling, thus increasing your chances of performing and racing well. It still hurts when you race like racing should, but the hurt is from pushing yourself rather than having legs that won't cooperate. If you want some more science behind the explanation, check out Roger Thompson's blog post on this stuff.

Next is Drip Drop. Drip Drop was formulated by a physician to combat dehydration in third world countries. It is medical-grade hydration and thus, easily absorbed by the body, and tolerable by the gut. I know better than to try something new race day, but I thought it was worth the risk to try Drip Drop at Wildflower. I'm so glad I took the risk because not only did I seem to stay more hydrated than my competitors, I didn't suffer gut issues like I have in the past racing in hot conditions. I only had enough Drip Drop to fill one water bottle, but I think having two bottles would have been ideal at Wildflower.

Give both of these a try during your training and tell me what you think.

ITU San Diego...NOT

My racing an ITU race and finishing on the blue carpet was just not meant to be, and I will have to check off this bucket list some either time. I think I wanted to do this race too badly, because history has proven time and time again, that when I really really get excited and want something too badly, something always go awry. I flew down to San Diego early Friday morning sans bike (it was being driven down to SD by some friends), Charisa and Jose picked me up, and we went and had some coffee/pastries. Easy peasy I thought and this trip could have not started any better. The weather was sunny and warm, and the race venue awesome. Once I saw the color of the race wristbands, my favorite blue, I became really excited to race, and I remember thinking tomorrow could not come soon enough! I don't think I've been this excited for a race in a quite some time.

Charisa and I went to lunch, and I remember seeing this awesome salad that I wanted, but I thought a big salad was just too much fiber the day before a race, and I stuck to carbs. I mention this because irony would have it that in my attempt to choose the right food, I ended up choosing the wrong food and getting food poisoning. We believe the culprit to be a side order of uncooked beets! About 7 hours later, I was faced down by the toilet puking. In total, I puked 7 times between 7-10 PM. I went to bed hoping for the best. I woke up the next day, and as I laid horizontal, I thought I actually might be able to race. But when I stood up, whoa, not so sure. I told Charisa that if I could get some calories in me, I would try and race. The Vega smoothie went down okay. The rice cracker with almond butter took me about 15 minutes to finish, but I got it down. Leaving the house, I told Charisa best to grab a puke bag just in case. I think that pretty much convinced Charisa that I should not be racing. As we we drove to the race venue, things went downhill. I finally ceded to the food poisoning, we grabbed my bike from transition and turned in my chip. BIG BUMMER!

The rest of the day was spent on the sofa drinking Ensure, and doing nothing with Charisa. By bedtime, both Charisa and I thought doing nothing was pretty damn fun, and it was a nice change from our routine. I should mention that Charisa really didn't do nothing, she ran 18 miles and then went out for a 90 minute spin earlier in the morning. But we did have fun the prior day, attending the grand opening of SKLZ headquarters, one of Charisa's new sponsors. Life gave me a lemon, and I'm happy to say, I for the most part was able to make lemonade from it.

#escapealcatraztri

I found myself using this hashtag frequently this past Sunday. The Escape from Alcatraz triathlon is a hometown race and I took advantage of it by going out and seeing what I could learn as a spectator. I watched the pros race, and I was keen to observe things like how they attacked the climbs on their bikes. I wish I could report some common tactic they all used, but sadly, I just learned that pros are tough as nails, and they redline it from the start. I learned that it's really easy to want the free schwag that you see the pros get, but it's another thing to do all the work required for the free schwag. And finally, I learned that Javier Gomez has a lot of supportive fans, and if you tweet a cool picture of him, they will show you some love--like his hometown newspaper emailing me, and asking if they could use my picture for their front page the next day. Uh...yeah!

Kaiser SF Half Marathon

The last two times I did this race, I had very bad cases of "race day illusion". As the name implies, race day illusion is a distorted view of what you can actually do verses what you want to do. For example, it's race day illusion that makes you blaze from the start trying to hold 6:00 minute pace for 13.1 miles, even though you haven't run any faster than 6:40 pace for only 7 miles. It's race day illusion that makes you try to beat that girl just because she is a girl, even though she is running at a ridiculously fast pace. The previous example also holds true for people you consider to look less fit than you, not wearing an outfit that looks as fast as yours, or people who don't look as pretty as you running. Race day illusion caused me to cramp at mile 9 the last time two times I did this race, forcing me to hobble the last 4 miles to the finish. It would not happen a third time.

From the start, I held a pace that I believe I could hold for the entire 13.1 miles. I floated when I could on the flats and the downhills, and I pushed, but not too hard, when I needed to during the uphills. I let girls pass me, unfit looking people pass me, people with weird painful looking gaits pass me, and I never let my ego sabotage my goal of properly pacing the 13.1 miles. Mile 8 was my first benchmark to tell me if I had properly paced the race. No cramping, right on, see ya later alligator. Mile 9 was the next hurdle, and still no cramping, I think I'm in the clear, no race day illusion here. Even with proper pacing, at some point, the race is going to hurt. It's a race. That point came at mile 10. As I felt the hurt come on, I started to take myself out of the race, out of the hurt. And I immediately heard Charisa's voice (and a faint Ian too) telling me it's supposed to hurt. And just like that, I got my mind back into the race, into the hurt. It felt good to be able to do this, to make the correct decision at a pivotal point, something I've not necessarily been able to do in the past. I stayed in the hurt and pushed myself to run the last 3.1 miles as fast as I could. A little after mile 11, I felt my calves twitch, uh oh. I switched my gait up a bit to put less pressure on the calves. After several tries of different gaits, nothing was really working. At mile 12, both calves seized up, but I kept running, as funny and weird as it might have looked to the spectators. One good thing to come from making those pacing errors in my previous two races, is that I learned how to run with cramped legs. Even with both calves cramped, I managed to re-pass two people, and finish the final mile (an uphill mile) in 6:35 or so. I'll gladly accept kudos.

My finish time was 1:23:47, only 7 seconds slower than my time from when I was 34 years-old, and in similar shape. I'm very happy with my result, considering that I've only been running three times per week and no speed work. I'm going to turn 42 this year and for the past several years, I've been using my age as an excuse for not running faster. I now realize that allowing myself to use that excuse the past several years has kept me from running faster. I may get faster running this year, or I may not, but I certainly am not going to continue holding onto that excuse. Sorry for the lack of pictures, I scoured but I couldn't find any from the race.

The Coast Ride Part 2

Going into the second day, I knew from previous experience of riding back-to-back hundo days, that the second day would feel better than the first. I was also determined to stay with an appropriately paced group, and to not get lost. Within the first five minutes of starting the ride, I already failed on both goals. I decided to roll out before the group, thinking that they would catch me, and Kim followed me thinking I knew the way (he too got lost the day prior and ended up riding 135 miles). Well, the group never came up on us because we were lost and riding off course. Kim and I decided to just keep it steady rather than try and chase down the group. About 30 minutes into the ride, two riders came up on us and after establishing that they too were coast riders, the four of us decided to work together to chase the group down.

As we rode to chase the group down, I saw a lot of carnage on the road. The second day was marred with lots of mechanical issues. It was like the bikes were telling their riders, "Enough already, I give up!" I too would fall victim to bike mechanical issues. At around mile 30, my rear derailer cable snapped. I was in my 53-11 and I had to grind my way to the fuel stop at mile 32. Once there, I was intent on finding a solution that would allow me to ride some more, quitting was not an option. I think the company I keep heavily influenced my decision to try and continue to ride. Through the years, I've witnessed and heard so many stories of friends who had to overcome some mishap or adversity to get to the finish. I was going to honor those friendships and contribute my own story of overcoming adversity to get to the finish. Awesome Steve Woo put his mechanical skills to work and I was left with two gears: 53-17 and 39-17.

By the time I got back on my bike, I was one of the last riders, and I was riding solo on the longest climb of the day. It was a pretty lonely 30-40 minutes until I saw rider up in the distance. This motivated me to try and catch the rider. The next 50 miles I rode solo, and as a carrot, I would try and pull in as many riders as I could. During these solo 50 miles, I thought about a lot of things. I thought about how much I suck riding in a group. I thought about how much I love mashing big gears and this was a good excuse to mash said big gears. I thought about how much better I felt today than yesterday, and how I've been totally void of nutritional mood swings. And then I thought about Charisa. How she was riding in the front group, mixing it up not only with the guys, but pro guys. And I thought about how just three years ago, both she and I were trying to break 10 hours for an ironman. I think it's really easy to sit on your ass watching ironmanlive, and say, "Gee I wanna do an ironman" or "I wanna break 10 hours". It's a whole different story to pull said ass out day after day, to do all of the training, often lonely training, to accomplish said things. Charisa has done ALL the training, and she continues to do ALL of the training to get it done. She worked her ass off to go under 10 hours several times, even breaking 9:30. On the first day of the coast ride, Charisa turned to me and said, "Kiet, it's supposed to hurt. Ian taught me that." So when I was riding those 50 solo miles with just two gears, I kept telling myself it's supposed to hurt.

Riding with a distracted mind, I made it to the 80 mile lunch stop, and what I thought would be my finish line for the day. But after talking to several people, all of whom encouraged me to do the full ride, I decided to make it an epic day. I chowed down a reese's peanut butter cup and a dr. pepper and I was on my way. Within the first 5 miles, I came up on a hill and I was hurting, and I felt this hand on my back. It was a guy who I met the day before, and he heard about my predicament, and he pushed me up the hill. I tried to stay on his wheel after but I soon lost it. Then I felt another hand on my back and this time, with the following words, "We are just keeping it steady, nothing fast, I'll do all the pulling if you just drop in and keep track of the girls and keep us all together." For the next 20 miles, I occupied the rear spot of the pace line, a couple of times, barely hanging on. My neuroma started to act up and with each push on the pedal, it was like stepping on pins. I had to pull out of the pace line and pull my feet out and stretch them, I was going to lose the train. But then, the entire train stopped! NO way! Turns out one of the girls thought she had a flat so the group stopped to check. This gave me just enough time to deal with the neuroma and I was back on the train. And even more lucky, another train came upon us and now we were an even bigger group. Everybody looked pretty spent but for the next 20 miles, as tired as we all were, we found reasons to laugh. The last 5 miles were pretty tough for me, I was seeing stars and having that panic feeling, often due to dehydration and low blood sugar. So many times I contemplated just stopping and hitching a ride, after all, I had a valid excuse right? But I was within 5 miles of completing an epic story: 127 miles total, 97 miles with two gears! Another rider turned to me and said, "Kiet, you gotta finish this. It will be epic if you finish." And just like that, I found the reserves and the motivation to get to the finish line.

The Coast Ride Part 1

The Coast Ride is a 3-day ride averaging 125 miles per day from San Francisco to Santa Barbara. No fundraising, just $25 for a sag wagon that will carry one bag for you and supply you with nutrition. My friend Scott conceived this idea years ago and I had heard about it, but who is fit enough in January to ride 375 miles in three days? Not I, but this year, I did it anyway; it was a total case of life experience trumping preparation. But I was sensible and I decided that I would only do two of the three days.

Because my longest ride in the past 4 months was only 49 miles, I was instructed to find a group and suck wheel for the entire ride. Well, I followed instructions and found a group, unfortunately it was a group with Charisa setting the pace. I got spit out the end several times but I would catch back on. Eventually, the lack of fitness caught up to me and I had to let them go. The first day was marred by nutritional mood swings. "Ugh, I'm dying, why did I do this, I'm hurting so bad. Oh, this isn't so bad, I'm feeling okay, let's do this! I'm dying. This is fun, I'm getting so fit! I just want to stop pedaling, how am I going to get to the end?" You gotta love endurance sports. And to add insult to injury, some of us got lost and we tacked on "bonus" miles for the day. Yeah for "bonus" miles. But truth be told, I felt the best I had all day during the last 20 miles of the 127+ mile ride. I was basically riding my way to fitness, and as I rolled into Seaside with the sun on the horizon, I was grateful and happy for the day 1 coast ride experience.

Three Weeks In

I'm three weeks into the start of my 2013 season, and things are going swell. I'm in the third and final week of my build cycle, and next week, I get a bit of a break. After 20+ years of training, I have this huge aerobic base and I find that I get back into aerobic fitness fairly quickly. But getting back to peak racing fitness requires a bit more time, and a lot more racing.

After my good news on January 8, you would think that I would be grateful for every opportunity to train. But when my alarm rang at 5:00 AM last Friday, I was feeling anything but grateful to get up and do my run. Funny how that works. I'm sure the human condition that allows us to heal, is also responsible for causing us to take things for granted. But I did roll out of bed and not only did I get the run in, but I got my swim done and dusted all before 7:30 AM.

I'll get a chance to test my aerobic fitness this weekend when I join 100+ riders for the coast ride from San Francisco to Santa Barbara. My longest ride in the past five months is 49 miles, so I am a bit concerned. My lack of preparation should tell you that this was a last-minute decision, spurred by no other than one Charisa Wernick. The first day is 123 miles from San Francisco to Seaside. The second day is 125 miles from Seaside to Morro Bay. And the third day, well I don't know the distance because I'm bailing after the second day. 248 miles over two days is plenty for me. I have a feeling I'm going to be digging deep, very deep this weekend. I'm looking forward to documenting the experience with my new GOPRO3 camera, I love the way this camera takes pics and videos. I hope the rest of you are having equally fun building the fitness for 2013.

Lessons from Cyclocross

If I wasn't so worried about breaking something and forsaking my triathlon season, I would probably do more CX races. In between bouts of fear, I had the occasional "F_ _ yeah, this is fun!" moment while racing. And after watching the video my friend Jesse made, I don't look nearly as bad as I felt. Post-race, Charisa and I reflected and we both agreed it's good to get out of our comfort zone and do something that we, how should I put this, suck at?

Here are the lessons that I'll take with me into the upcoming 2013 triathlon racing season:

There's a difference between being conservative/realistic and being wimpy. I was being wimpy at the start of the race, and I let the course and the other riders spook and intimidate me. I will not be wimpy in 2013.

If I had raced the technical sections with the same attitude as I had with running my bike through the deep sand, I would have placed a lot higher. Every time I hit the sand section, I told myself that I owned the section and that nobody in the field could outrun me in the sand. I wish I had taken that attitude with the rest of the course. Attitude makes such a huge difference.

I need to do more things with my brother, he's an awesome guy and he's a great older brother. It was so cool how he waited for me on the course and we finished the race together.

Traveling to races with friends trumps going solo. Yeah, you have to coordinate more and possibly have to wait for someone else a bit, but all worth it.

Flying mounts! I love flying mounts! If you are a skier or swim the butterfly, the feeling equates to carving through the snow or getting the timing down in fly. More flying mounts in 2013!

Off-Season Antics

This past weekend really felt like the official start of my off-season. Charisa needed a bit of R&R so she made her way up to SF. My XMAS present to her was to give her a tour of SF via the GOCAR! I cannot speak more highly of this tourist trap, worth every penny. Being that I'm a local, we decided to remove the GPS guided tour and instead, plug in Charisa's iPod, best move we made all day. We got lucky and was given the more powerful GOCAR, going upward to 50 MPH! As we drove through the city, blasting road trip music in our cab yellow, open air GOCAR, I soon realized we were spreading love throughout SF. Almost everybody who saw us in our car had the same wide-smile, laugh out loud reaction. I'm amazed that there were no restrictions as to where we could drive these cars, and we definitely pushed our luck with other cars trucking at 5 MPH up the SF hills.

The next day, I convinced Charisa to join me for my once every two years cyclocross race. The video above should give you a good idea of Charisa's virgin CX race. They changed the course from two years ago when I last did it, making it much more technical and throwing in everything that is CX: steep single track descents, sand, mud, gravel, water, and switchbacks. I made the poor decision of starting in the back, and let me tell you, the guys in the back of CX races make poor role models. They clip out for all of the wrong reasons, they brake way too much, take the wrong lines, and they have no endurance! Halfway through the second lap, I saw my brother stopped on the sideline waiting for me. From then on the race was really fun. My brother made a much better role model, and following him allowed me to spin through the gravel water pit effortlessly, charge through the sand, pedal through the deep mud, and attack the descents. I wish I had been more aggressive and gotten out in front with him during the first lap. I can't say CX is type 1 fun for me as I was white knuckled the entire time, and racing on edge, fearful of my next crash. When I race a triathlon, my only fear is not meeting my race performance expectations. The fun of CX races come when you are done and you haven't broken anything.

Ironman Dream...No, Like an Actual Dream About Ironman

I had the craziest dream last night, so I'll just share it and ya'll can tell me what it all means. I should have posted this earlier because I feel like I've lost over 75% of the details since this morning. But basically, I dreamt that I had signed up for IM Canada the week of the race, and how I did not recognize this had to be a dream, in my dream, is beyond me because there is no such thing as signing up for IM Canada the week of the race. In my dream, I drive up to the race but I stop and stay with Charisa, in some more rural part of the world between the Bay Area and Canada, I'm guessing it was Idaho or Montana. The mood was quite somber with Charisa as I got the sense she was living a monk-like training camp lifestyle. I remember thick, dark rain clouds but it wasn't raining, and lots of windows. Charisa and I spent what seemed like an eternity catching up, but ironically, can only be described in this one sentence. Why is it soooo hard to describe dreams, and why so many gaps when you go to retell it? I didn't dream of myself actually racing, but I finished IM Canada with a time of 9:06. And you know when you wake up from a dream, there's that moment when you can't separate the dream from reality, and you actually feel the dream to be the reality? I'm feeling sheepish as I say this, but this morning, I woke up with the feeling that I had indeed raced a 9:06 ironman, and it took me awhile to process and realize otherwise.

Charisa Kicks Ass

That's all.

Creative Outlet

Years ago, I stumbled upon Simon Whitfield's blog and though he is a pro and way faster than I'll ever be, I felt a kinship with the Canuck. For whatever reason, we both need a creative outlet. I really enjoy looking at life behind a camera lens or sharing my life through videos. The whole post production process is fun, and I can spend hours immersed in editing. Is my stuff any good? I'll let Simon speak for me:

Having fun with whatmyphonesaw.com, to be honest, it's for me, not really concerned if people like it or don't like it, it's my creative outlet, not sure exactly how creative I really am but it's an outlet, a subtle and easy distraction that I enjoy.

This kinship now extends to others, including two of my favorite pro triathletes.

Spooked

I haven't run since the bloody piss incident more than two weeks ago, and to be honest, I'm a bit spooked to start back up. In the days and weeks following the incident, I've experienced some anomalies around pissing. I've been pissing...A LOT, like 10-12 times during the day, and 5-8 times per night. I finally went to the doctor where I was probed and checked, including urine analysis, and everything seems to be in working order...except for the excessive pissing. I was told to give it another two weeks to see if it goes away and if not, we go to another round of probing and testing.

I was even more spooked when I engaged in what I thought to be a casual conversation with my co-worker, who also happens to be a former Olympian for the Nigerian soccer team. At some point in our "casual" conversation, we covered the topic of the "mind over matter" attitude, and at what point is this philosophy harmful. If your mental limits surpass your physical limits, is it healthy to push your body to such limits? My co-worker lived this philosophy on his way to becoming an Olympian, but he now lives with regret. The years he spent pushing his body beyond its limits have left him with an enlarged heart, and joints that move far from an agile athlete. As I sat and listened, I realized that I covet this philosophy, and I recalled with pride the times that I successfully won the battle of mind over matter. My thoughts drifted to the past couple of years filled with pushing pass my physical limits: racing multiple ironmans, puking during races, pre-, post-, and nausea during the race, IV's, 50-mile run, and finally culminating in the pissing blood incident. But listening to a former Olympian express regret further spooked me.

All I know is that I'm now a middle-aged man whose pushed his body for 30+ years as an athlete. Though there are many middle-aged men and women who continue to kick ass and push their bodies way pass their physical limits, maybe I'm just not one of them. My results this year sure seem to indicate this may be the case, and with this recent health issue, I'm more inclined to think this may be true. When I see the results that athletes like Charisa and Ian are pulling off, it inspires me to get out there, work hard, and put out some big results too. But right now, I'm thinking maybe my time has passed, and rather than aspiring to do what they do, I should just appreciate what they can do. I haven't made any solid decisions, but come turkey day tomorrow morning, I plan to slip on my running shoes, push aside the spooked feelings, and attempt a run.

Easy vs. Hard

I don't really know why, but some activities are just really easy for me to do, motivation-wise, and I end up doing them all the time. But other activities are not so easy and I have a hard time getting around to doing them, they just don't feel as natural.

Easy: swim, bike, run, yoga, weights, reading my current book, handstand class, checking Facebook, writing/reading blogs, playing with my new iphone (haven't you noticed my increased participation in the social network of late?), hanging out with the same one or two friends all of the time

Hard: cyclocross, volunteering, playing the guitar, acroyoga and parkour class, spinning fire, hanging out with all of my other friends, going to the movies, listening to NPR podcasts

Speaking of easy...if you haven't done so, start sharing your life using the Instagram application on the iphone, it's just a neat tool.

Negative Speak & Limits

On Sunday, I was starting the second of my back-to-back 3-hour run days, and I thought to myself, "I can't do this, I've never done this. This is crazy." And it dawned on me that even before I tried, I had already placed limits on myself through negative speak. I then recalled some of my blog posts prior to races, and I realized there were a lot of negative speak. For example, I wrote about the possibility of bonking, walking, and not nailing my nutrition. Also, friends would email me telling me to crack 10 hours or race fast, and I would respond with a lackluster, "hopefully I won't bonk." Compare this to the words Charisa emailed me prior to her race at Challenge Henley, "My goal is to win on Sunday...Last day in Wales tomorrow - then off for London, on to Henley and some very hard racing and work to be done. Got to show those UK girls that us USA chicks are tough cookies and can't be written off :)" Charisa went on to place second, 50 seconds shy of the W, and PR'ed her ironman by 19 minutes.

I spent a lot of time during my run dissecting my season, and how the negative speak could have placed limits on my performance. I finally decided that when I go back to racing, I'm going to liken my racing season to a house with no roof; there will be no ceiling to limit how high I can go, and I want to be able to see and reach for the stars. And as corny as it sounds, I really thought of this metaphor during my run and before I knew it, I was finishing up my second day of a 3-hour run. Before Sunday, I had never run 46 miles in two days, but that's because I never tried.

I Failed to Take the High Road

Before I go into details about the title of the post, I thought I would start with something more positive. Charisa and Steven stopped and stayed the night on their way to Vineman 70.3. Besides sharing some awesome meals of deep dish Chicago style pizza (in honor of Charisa's home town), and some soul food with a twist (gotta give them a taste of Oakland), we shared some great conversation. Charisa and I went for a short run this morning through my hood, and it really made me appreciate where I live seeing it through her eyes. Most of you know Charisa is one smart cookie when it comes to racing, but Steven equally impressed me with his thoughts on racing. I leave you with two quotes from Steven that really hit home:

"It doesn't matter how many times you nail it in training, it only matters that you nail it on race day."

"That Kevin, when it comes to racing, he is low expectations and high performance."

And speaking of racing, my friend sent me this great article on winning. I've got a lot of people looking out for me.

And now, the reason for the title of the post. During my ride today, I was climbing and approaching a right hair-pin turn when all of a sudden, this guy on a skateboard was coming right at me. He was hugging the inside of the turn, on my side of the road, and I had to swerve far right almost into the guard rail to avoid being hit by him. As he passed me, he laughed and shouted, "Suckaaaa!" At first, I told myself to take the high road and carry on. But something in me snapped when I recounted that he shouted suckaaaa as he went by. I decided that this skate punk needed to learn a lesson the hard way. I turned my bike around, sprinted down the hill, almost crashing when I hit a pothole because I was so determined to catch him. I caught the punk and I began blocking him to slow him down, and I eventually got him to stop in his tracks. I was so pissed off that I didn't care he was about six feet tall, as I pushed him off his board. I grabbed his board and said something like, "If you want to be extreme, go extreme down the hill after your board", and I chucked his board down the hill. Ironically, during the remainder of the ride, I was quite jovial and happy, making small talk as I came upon other riders. I'm not a pugilist but sometimes, you just gotta. I have to admit, I was a bit fearful that he and his buds would hop in their car, and drive up the hill to get payback. Needless to say, I climbed the hill quite fast.

Benchmarks

We all have benchmarks that give us feedback about our fitness. With three weeks remaining until IM CDA, my benchmarks lead me to believe I am fit and ready to race. Today's 2-hour run felt speedy, effortless both physically and mentally, and I maintained a 7:15 pace for 16.60 somewhat hilly miles. Yesterday's straight 3200 swim, descending 800's, felt best the last 1600. This past Saturday's 4-hour ride on the trainer ("turbo" for all you Aussies/Kiwis) was mentally easy and went by in a flash, even the 1-hour at IM effort/cadence. The 9-mile run off that ride was equally effortless. I am in good spirits.

I told Charisa this past weekend that I wished IM CDA was this coming weekend. I made this comment mostly out of fear, fear that I would screw things up in the three weeks of waiting for the race to come. If anything, I need these three weeks to do some increased intensity and to taper. I know I won't screw up but if I were to screw up, here's how:

My OCD mind thinks I need to keep up the volume and train more to keep my fitness. But my body needs something completely different. My body needs less volume, more intensity, and proper recovery. I need to shut my mind down and just listen to my body. It's important to plan at this time, to avoid those "extra" or "padded" miles just to appease the nervous mind.

And speaking of Charisa, here is a comment I left on her blog: So proud of you, looking at you on the stage with all those big names, in a race format that doesn't necessarily play to your strengths, I am inspired...as always. Good stuff Charisa! This girl just keeps getting faster and faster.