long distance

White Rock Marathon 12-4-2011 -- meltdown

2012-01-28T00:52:00.000-08:00

_Standards
PR (3:28:17) December 2010
Apolo Ohno's NYC time (3:25:12) November 2011
Qualify for Boston (3:20:59)
GPS pacer (3:16:30 if GSP agrees with mile markers)
Runner's World Smart Coach plan (3:16:17)
Practiced Yasso 800 (x 10) (3:15:00)

_Script—aka hopeful thinking
Healthy, fresh, nervous, and 138-lb at the start.
7:30 virtual partner (Garmin Forerunner 305)
1 gel every 4 miles for 20 miles.
Bleed 2 min between mile 20 an 22.
Sub 7-min final mile. 3:20 finish.

_Cloth
Tri top
Nike combat shorts
Zoot Compression shorts
Compression calf sleeves
Perl Izumi bike socks
Brooks Green Silence

Disposable:
old jeans
T shirt
cut socks arm warmers
garden gloves with tips removed
fragile no-name sunglasses

_Race report

The perfect weather failed to materialize. I decided to stick with the pace. For weeks I wished I was more aggressive at A2A. I chose not to risk the same regret.

4 am. Wide awake
I took my time tailoring trash bags: 1 outside of T shirt, one out of sweatshirt. I had no experience running wet in cold air and wasn’t sure how much to put on.

The drizzle wasn’t bad at start. I threw away outer trash bag and sweat shirt.
I gambled at mile 4--threw away inner trash bag and T-shirt that made me sweat.
Rain started a few miles later. Core temperature dropped. Legs felt good and were able to waste energy by jumping over water.

Mile 8
Half and full courses split. I wanted to say thanks to the 1:40 half pacer but didn’t want to waste energy talking. The only words I used that morning were to encourage the 1-leg runner.

I had problem seeing things through sunglasses in the rain. Todd Hunter shouted my name. I tossed him the cheap glasses in hope he’d bring it in to work Monday.

Mile 9: Numb fingers dropped a gel.

Mile 13.1: Just over 99 minutes. Felt happy and wished the teeth chattering would stop.

Mile 17: Legs stiffened. Decided on 8:30 pace 'til mile 22--I could still beat Apolo.
"HTFU!" Biff urged me to keep it together.

Mile 22: had problem with 11:00 pace.

Mile 23
I had problem with 20:00 pace. The deeper I dug, colder I felt. A pre-cut trash bag tossed by another runner helped a great deal.

For the first time I was unable to feed off the crowd’s energy. Some spectators actually avoided eye contact. That was new.

I was passed by 1700 marathoners + countless half marathon walkers.

A medic tried to pull me off the course:
"Are you ok? You don't look so good. Do you want to sit down?"
"I'm cold. Do you have a car?"
"No, but I can call for help?"
"Can you get me to finish faster than walking? I don't want to pay for an ambulance."
He had to think a bit, "no"
Do you have coffee?
No.
Do you have any hot drink?
No.
Do you have a dry T shirt?
No.
OK, thanks.
I kept walking. I probably made him feel a bit useless.

I crossed the line under 4.5 hrs. It felt longer.

_aftermath

The medical tent was filled with shivering runners. The guy next to my bed had thicker under-skin layer than a seal. He whined about upset stomach and didn't even look cold. I wanted to slap him.
I headed home as soon as fingers gained enough dexterity to untie the double knotted laces

Several strangers congratulated me on beating Oprah.

Bodily functions mostly recovered during the 40-minute drive home. I felt well after the hour soak in hot tub.

Days after the race, I didn't conjure up negative feeling. Taking off the trash bag was a calculated risk. Somehow failures are easier to swallow when one errs on the side of aggression.

The hypothermia is an experience I'd cherish. It might come in handy in the mountains one day.

I'm not convinced my fitness was enough for 3:20 finish and am unclear whether I over- or under-trained. Not finding out the answer is probably the most disappointing aspect of this race.

In contrast, the decision of not chasing Bruce Belden at A2A still haunts me. Little surprises life throws at us....

Boston Qualifying standard 11-13-2011

2012-01-27T23:48:00.001-08:00

3 weeks before the Boston qualifier.
My confidence hit bottom after the final long run. I ate the last big meal that night and reminded myself that the body always rose to the occasion.

After A2A, I had no distractions in the form of other physical activities. My daily life was anchored by training sessions. Mom had to endure watching her son attempting to remove mass from the under-inflated body.

_endurance sport is 90% mental; the other 10% is also mental
Web was a great source of contradictory information. Runnersworld.com ran an amusing piece "6 Signs You May Have Post-Marathon Syndrome"

• Comparison shopping and minimizing your marathon accomplishment
• Lacking interest in setting a new goal
• Feelings of sadness, pessimism, and worthlessness
• Feeling lost without your training
• Not able to see the light through the fog
• Rounding your marathon time down–"I ran around 5 hours for a 5:55 finish"
Yeah, I had PMS 20 days before the gun. "A" race preparation started 3 months ago. I just need to push through obstacles.

Bathroom scale registered lowest # post-1998. I did not react with the satisfaction of hitting weight goal—“Did I lose muscle?” At that moment I related to a fashion model.

_accelerated training
Feet and calves didn’t feel good after Euro Roll. I shortened the training sessions. I considered backing out of this “A” event. Conventional wisdom said I need to change my goal. But Boston qualifying time was not negotiable.

My volume and intensity caught up to the program 6 weeks later. Somehow I felt less confident than ever. _Run Less Run Faster_ said I needed to do more. I intensified the sessions—knowing full well the risk of insufficient recovery.

_hill challenged
I didn't practice Dolly Parton and its neighboring hills prior to 2011. I assumed I could even-split the 2 miles because I was lazy, cheap, and delusional. After 4 White Rocks in 5 years, I faced up to my inability to recover after climbs. My last 5 long runs included hill repeats.

_crashes
All but 1 indicator said I was on target for a 3:20 marathon finish.

The first crash happened during the recovery between intervals. The left ankle didn’t clear the curb. I assumed I misjudged the distance while mocking with GPS. That added another facial scar to the collections—of all the eyewear I own, I had to use the $5 Home Depot eye protector that night.

Days later, I missed a block in a stream. This was during the warm up. I couldn’t blame fatigue.

Then I tripped over a shallow pothole at end of easy run during taper weeks.

I was disgusted by my weak ankle and the bandage bill. It was kinda cool to see red blood on the other side of Tegaderm. I stared at the overtraining evidence in the eye and went into denial mode—“I am in shape for a 3:20 marathon as long as weather is perfect. I will be aggressive with my pace. I will not back down. This race ain’t about fastest time; it’s about being good enough.”

I stopped riding Ninja to minimize injury risk.

Weight control was on target. I was proud of yet disliked my sunken cheeks. I visualized the big celebratory dinner.”

Houston Inline Marathon 11-13-2011

2011-12-03T17:14:00.000-08:00

4 weeks before my “A” race, I set practical goals for this "D" Race:
1. Injury free.
2. Finish.
3. Save enough for the 16-mile run 2 hours after race.

The drive down south was mostly smooth sailing not requiring the Beltronics. I stopped by a Nike outlet and scored running outfits. It was depressing my legs were now too short for the XS warm up pants.

_Reunion
We stayed at Duane’s; it’s simple, big, and clean. I was envious of the backyard’s function-maintenance ratio.

It was fun visiting Duane’s new life after Dallas. 9-month-old Ace made friend with everyone. I stayed in the room with the track spikes that broke the 24-hour relay record in his running days. It made me think about next 10 years.

_Race
All eyes were on Alex and Rob.

I was relaxed at the start. I went through warm up half heartedly. I was happy Tom was back to racing and hoped to stay with him.

The best way to avoid crash was not skating behind a crashed skater. I started with the pros and got the 2nd spot. No one was fighting for positions. I kept the pace civil and let the lead guy accelerate way. Leading the peloton in a marathon race was a highlight of my life; it felt glorious an absurd.

I let the lead pack go after a few miles; I’d stay with Tom and Duane. The peloton kept slowing down; I stayed in contact. No one wanted to pull, but the young legs were getting antsy. Team Simmons was unconcerned. I thought about a breakaway just for the hell of it—the steep underpass suited my legs.

The pros finally accelerated. Casey had the legs but chose stay with Timo, Tom, Duane, and me. Casey still seemed frustrated from missing A2A after all the Sunday morning Windhaven repeats.

photo by someone good. thanks for the good shot

The lead pack was quickly down to Alex, Rob, and Lawrence. Lawrence was out teammated and got 3rd.

_Brick
2.5 hours after skate, 16-mile run started on hilly pavements of Huntsville State Park.

I went through bad patches and paused at mile 11. Uphill speed bled as expected. Accelerating down the hills was unexpectedly challenging. GPS said I accelerated at mile 15, which didn't agree with my memory.

I worried I trained too hard. I worried I didn’t go hard enough.

Groupon provided big meal at a laughable teppanyaki at Geisha. Thanks to P. F. Chang and Pei Wei, we now understand authenticity is an unnecessary ingredient in ethnic food.

A2A 38-mile 2011

2011-10-14T20:37:00.000-07:00

_goal
I seemed to arrive at A2A less prepared each year. 100k's at Hotter n Hell and NYC were the only long skates after Road Rash in April. Ironman Craig Alexander's theory: the older you are, the less volume you need.

Plan A: Stay with Eddy as long as I could. With luck I would build enough lead over the chase pack before reaching Dacula. This strategy failed me twice already, but lead pack speed was unpredictable. Lenny and Marcy was likely to dictate the chase pack speed.

My all-time fantasies included
1. Beat Herb Gale at a race.
2. Order an uncut pizza delivered to check point #5 then eat it like a giant burrito while skating toward Atlanta.
3. Average 18 mph for an A2A distance.
Candy decided to go after Debbie Rice's 17.96 mph record--a realistic target given the weather forecast. Herb signed up to race 38. 2011 was my big chance.

New plan:
1. Bonk no earlier than Herb.
2. Experiment with solid food for 49 miles.
3. Finishing 18 seconds in front of a record breaking Candy.

_logistics
Travel arranges involved changes this year:
Atlanta’s Midtown Hotel computer got confused.
AAA Express Shuttle went out of business.
Casey canceled last minute due to infection.
Race route changed.

_start
The rush out of Athens was always a zoo.

I had an easy start by following a lone Peter Doucet skating with GoPro. I thought of pulling him just to get in the shot but didn't want to mess up his race.

Eddy started late after getting out of costume. I watched him dragging Luke passing us. I was too uncomfortable at that speed to jump pack for Peter’s video. Mile 3~5’s splits were 24 / 21 / 23 mph. I struggled with each acceleration; I wished I was on bigger wheels.

Weather was good but far from perfect: humid, warm, mostly tailwind.

Team Asphalt Beach formed the core of the chase pack with Lenny, Marcy, Jessica, Candy, and Brian. Herb popped out of lead pack and joined us.

photo by Lenny Willcox

I did one long pull before settling in the back. Jessica described a bodily function that made me laugh. Lenny was in control. Marcy seemed to be holding back. Several strong skaters did their shares. The back of the pack turned into accordion when Herb showed off his Herculean strides. I resorted to high cadence and skated like a midget Usain Bolt. Thanks a lot, Herb!

Most of my pull involved being pushed.
video by Lenny

Mile 25. Debbie's record seemed out of reach, but Candy and company weren't letting up. For the first time I appreciated how steady Lenny was.

Mile 35. Everyone kept up. Candy had wattage surplus. I watched her broke away up a long ascend. We had no reason to chase; majority of the pack had 50 miles to go. It took Candy a while to realize the unintentional attack before returning to the group. A few climbs later she said something about not recovering and became less jumpy.

38-mile A2A was a unique race in that competitors and utility vehicles were often indistinguishable. I knew I was racing against Herb and Brian but didn't know how many 38-milers were in the lead pack.

The last climb into Dacula was nontrivial. I wished I was on smaller wheels. Bruce Belden attacked. His acceleration was modest for potentially the 38-mile title. A real man would’ve covered that breakaway. I wanted to save it for the 2 final turns. There were 3 races I could beat pros, and I didn't think Herb would race Tour de Donut.

I gambled the pack would swallow Bruce. I wished my quads weren't cramping. I wished Casey were in the mix.

I heard Candy behind me; Herb and Brian became invisible; Bruce escaped. The last right turn came faster than expected. My short legs barely stayed on pavement. I made it to the empty finish chute 16 seconds behind Bruce.

_38-mile result
Candy won 38 after missing the scary right turn.
Bruce got 2nd. Mike Pantelakis was in the lead group with 7-minute margin.
I checked "beating Mighty Herb" off the list.
Herb and Brian blew up on the last rolling hill.

_#'s
total distance: 38 miles
total time: 2:10:40
average speed: 17.5 mph
mile splits > 20 mph: 10
max speed: 42.5 mph @ mile 11
on-course energy intake: 300 calories (gels and blocks)
wheels used: 100 mm. 4x Matter yellow, 4x MPC Street Fight

photo by Peter Doucet

_49 mile skate to Atlanta
Randy, Herb, and I hopped on Luke and Greg's group to skate to Atlanta. I substituted gels with bananas and trail mix vars.

I was on a nice route with friends, but for 30 miles I obsessed over last 2 miles of the race second-guessing my decisions. I couldn't decide whether I raced smart or simply lacked courage. “Live in the present,” I reminded myself. I focused on how blessed I was.

Silver Hill was the lowlight of the day. We barely broke 40 mph with a black Mercedes in the way.

I hit my usual wall after Silver Hill. I felt more wobbly and sick than usual. I sat down at checkpoint 5 hoping to hitch a ride.

Colleen's sandwich and chocolate did wonders for my recovery.

I got back on the road to skate with Malia (London) and Alex (Austria) group with John in it. I skated with John on this same crappy road surface when agreeing to tie for 52-mile race last year.

_#'s (including 38-mile race)
total distance: 87 miles
total time: 5:48:50
average speed: 15.0 mph
mile splits > 20 mph: 10 + 4
Silver Hill max speed: 40.1 mph
on-course energy intake: 300 calories (gels and blocks) + 800 calories (banana, sandwich, bars, chocolate)
stopping time: approx 15 minutes

_87-mile result
Marcy took women's title. Lenny finished with same time at 12th place.
Jessica came in 9 minutes later at 16th overall ahead of Luke's 5:34.

Eddy was out-skated by Thomas Detwiler.
Francisco got 3rd.
Asphalt Beach's 16-year-old wonder Joel 2-lastNames finished 5th.
Peter Doucet was 6th ahead of Dennis Humphrey.

photo by Peter Doucet

Herb and Marcy
photo by Peter Doucet

The nutrition experiment result was discouraging. Maybe I should've used hotdogs.

_2.5 miles city skate
The new finish location was 2.5 miles from hotel. Skating slowly is a lot faster than 3-mph walk. I felt great going downhill at 15 mph forgetting to verify luggage's wheels were designed for it. Luckily nothing broke on the uneven pavement.

At a non-wealthy neighborhood, 3 tough looking dudes approached me on empty streets,
"What's in the bag?"
I couldn't tell if they were serious but developed a bad feeling. They could easily take me down unless I gave up the luggage.
"3 million dollars, cash." I replied and skated away holding steady pace.
They laughed and didn't pursue.

A few blocks later the streets were closed. I continued on the roadway; the sidewalks were packed with people.

I was surprised the cops didn't pull me off the road. Spectators showered me with positive and colorful encouragements. I was uncomfortable with that level of attention. Served me right wearing spandex ahead of the Pride Parade.

Thanks for buying the cops, Candy.

NYC 100k Prospect Park, Brooklyn 09/24/2011

2011-10-02T08:36:00.001-07:00

I considered racing the 100k every year since 2005. The resources always went to other events: Burning Man, ironman, Montreal 24-hour, A2A, TTTT, White Rock Marathon. "I'll do it next year," I told myself.

Inline events got to the point that I couldn't effort to be picky. And I owned up to the fact I'd never be more ready. I decided on 100k when Nancy invited me in Budapest. It'd be fun to re-visit NYC.

_NYC travel
Using the public transportation was an interesting experience. New Yorkers were helpful when approached with questions, but I didn't anticipate the difficulty of spotting natives at airport and train stations. It didn't help the Q train I counted on wasn't in operation.

Plan B was to use taxies or to skate. The rain made it difficult.

_Race day condition
Mid 70's. 100% humidity. Wet pavement.
Lots of black Storm Surges showed up. I used 100mm gold Street Fights and carbon frames.

_Faster start than needed
If the goal were to optimize average speed, I'd start slow, shop for a pro pack that lap us, shoot for 3.5-hr finish. I chose to ignore finish time <= Texas Flyers had realistic chance at 2 non-pro podium spots.

I stayed in front after the gun, making sure no 100k racer got away. Casey joined me. We matched the speed of 23-year-old Michael Pereira. He was relentless. We let the kid go after short discussion during 2nd lap.

Lap #5. Luke, Renee, and John joined. Casey and I went off the script and pulled the pack. I didn't like the marathoners' erratic accelerations.

John kept lifting the pace; I almost let him go.
photo by Ron Morella

At one point, I asked everyone to slow to wait for Renee; she never caught up. John also got dropped.

A 42k racer in skin suit started to skate slightly faster than the pack off the front. I advised her to be cooperative, “you’re just wasting energy.” She ignored me and was repeatedly swallowed by the pack going down hills. It took me a while to realize she didn't understand a word I said.

The lead vehicles were 2 pretty Ducaties. The peloton looked happy during first half the race. It didn't take them long before lapping us. The pros slowed enough at one point we actually latched on. What are the chances I'd skate in the peloton during in a big race?

_After 42
Things settled down after the marathoners sprinted off. My group was down to 3 with Luke and Casey. It was a relaxing ride. We even slowed to observe a commercial photo shoot. We positive split and made no effort to stop bleeding. I started to think about the end games and looked for attack spots.

Lap 14.
4 pros lapped us for the 2nd time. Casey jumped. I followed. Luke dropped.

_Free ride
The pros were 2 laps ahead and didn't ask us to pull. One guy decided on a baby surge with 2 laps to go. My quads cramped half way up the previously harmless hill. I got popped off the back at lap 16. I focused on keeping recovery pace; I needed to be ready by the time Luke skated by. Luke pass never happened; I gained too much ground behind the pros.

Marcy and Kara Peterson lapped me. Marcy was a machine in skin suit. Her precision strides were the most beautiful thing on the course. I had insufficient incentive to skate that hard; I let her go.

[podium photo]
Casey went on to win the advanced division.
I finished 2nd in 4 hours--3 minutes in front of Luke.
Michael Pereira blew up during lap 5 and abandoned the race after many lonely miles.

_race #'s
64.07 miles in 4:00:30
avg/max: 16/33 mph
gels: 6
elevation gain/loss per Garmin 310XT: 1915/1933 feet

_Post race
Sandy skipped the wet surface race but joined the podium celebration at a West African restaurant. Luke and Casey talked Skate Farm Thailand.

Casey and I rode a free shuttle between rail stations. We chatted with the bus driver. The guy was so cool a girl pursued him between stops. When I grow up, I want to operate large public vehicles.

It took me a long time to recognize the racers at official dinner at Iguana Bar. The Empire Speed Club had the highest density of particle physicists. It was great to catch up with Dustin on musician and other things.

Nancy took us on a foot tour; she was the only non-tourist human at Time Square. Grand Central was indeed grand.

_Sunday morning skate
I briefly considered the scheduled 7-mile run before replacing it with coffee and buttered bagel.

Philly skaters hired a bus to skate Manhattan that morning. It was great to see Euro Roll friends.

At leisure pace, we still went faster than buses and taxies in city traffic.

USS Intrepid looked newer than 12 years ago. Casey and I rolled the final portion of NYC skate while eating gyro and Thai before the pre flight shower.

PreRace Jitter 9-17-2011, another NorthShore I didn’t participate

2011-09-17T20:09:00.000-07:00

Schedule called for 20-mile run @ 8:34 pace today. I struggled through it.

Injury and weather impeded preparation for the December marathon. I shortened multiple sessions in the Runner’s World training program. I’m using a program involving fewer miles than the respected _Run Less, Run Faster_. It’s not a comforting thought.

Things are looking grim for my BQ. If I had sense, I’d let the body heal before trying, but BQ standard will be tightened by 11.45 seconds per mile if I wait another year.

_4 races in next 4 months.

> NYC 100k. “C”
Oringal plan was to help Casey with NROC points. Given my weak form, I'd skip laps to prove support, similar to what Biff did for me at Montreal.

Casey is no longer optimizing his NROC standing => I get to think about skating for myself. Now I got my boots back from David Simmons, I'm optimistic about NYC 100k given “C” race mentality.

I logged approx 0 mile of pace line between Road Rash and Hotter n Hell. Technique and cardio supposedly fade slowly. NYC will be a good indicator of that theory.

I can draft pros per Francisco’s blessing. It’d be a fun event with Candy cookie.

"Did I mention you have to climb that #@$*((#!! hill 17 times or something ridiculous like that?"
–Biff Bailey

"The dreaded Prospect Park hill? A mere pimple on the pickle of progress."
–Eddy Matzger

> A2A. “B”
Will try to have enough fitness to go hard for 38 miles.
I lasted 40 minutes with Eddy in my previous attempt. My skating hasn’t improved, but the lead pack speed is variable.

I invested all my skate time on short hill sprints after Road Rash. After A2A, my skate ambition will be to maintain enough form to enjoy wheel events, unless this running thing doesn’t pan out.

> Houston Inline. “D”
Spend time with teammates at Duane's house. Do whatever friends want. Maybe eat donuts if race canceled.

> White Rock Marathon. “A”

I started to look for faster courses.
Las Vegas happens on the same day but is no longer the fast point-to-point race.

_weight obsession
5’ 10” Ryan Hall’s racing weight is 130 lb.
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QbKp2HeUpkY)
I’m overweight as a marathon runner like vast majority of the participants; I dislike Hall’s skinny look but want his efficiency. More voluminous yet less massy body—we desire attributes a la carte while painfully awaring of their incompatibility.

Desire is the main source of disappointments and weakness.

I admire Karnazes’ acceptance of his bulky muscles.

Small consolation: even Apolo Ohno has a longer way to go before reaching optimal marathon weight at 165 lb:
http://sports.yahoo.com/elite-athlete-workouts/apolo-ohno;_ylt=AjGbZC.xIB483c2W0YLMVfM5nYcB?vid=26257328

_running form
I need to improve my pace by 18 seconds per mile from 2010 White Rock. It felt daunting. I didn’t want to lose enough weight to bridge the difference. Technique appeared to be a viable option. I became obsessed after watching Abebe Bikila and Ryan Hall’s footages.

I was frustrated by the signal-to-noise ratio of Chi Running and instruction of Joe Friel but was seduced by _Born to Run_. It induced my desire to achieve better form via shoe change. The end goal is the ability to run with no shoe—reminiscent of the sword-less heart of a swordsman in kong-fu novels.

Increasing distance with new shoes too quickly was probably how I hurt my feet. Ignoring pain ain’t always the best policy.

Shoes in rotation:
Asics Nimbus x 3
Zoot Ultra Tempo
Asics 2140
Brooks Axiom
Brooks Green Silence
Perl Izumi Streak x 2
Asics Hyper Speed 4
Puma Bolt Yugorun
Ecco Bioms
Vibram Bikila

The Texas-size house encourages shoe craze. I can’t decide if it’s a good thing.

"Barefoot Running ... is like being bit by a vampire--slowly but surely, you turn into one of THEM."

Hotter n Hell 100k skate 8/28/2011

2011-09-05T20:27:00.000-07:00

Something always got in the way of a solid 102-mile bike ride--bonking, crashes, injury, skating. This year I put in so few bike miles I didn't bother reaching for the perfect ride. 50-mile skate was the logical choice given the circumstances. Casey offered to keep me company.

Logistically, HH is an easy event:
pack Thursday night
Friday:
leave work after lunch
spend $ at expo
visit with Ann and wheel friends
Saturday:
be early to avoid parking problem
start rolling in the dark
80 miles of hope
18 miles of disappointment and introspection
4 miles of rolling drunk
shower
back in Dallas by dinner

In 2006 I communicated poorly with Richard; it led to Richard's abandoning at mile 23. This time I wrote a skate script so Casey and I would be on the same page.
----
50 mi @ 12 mph moving speed = 4 hr 10 min rolling
50 min of rest stops/overhead/extra distance => sub 5 hr finish time

rest stop #/mile mark
1. 10 skip
2. 15; quick refuel; small stop not shared by other event distances
drink enough in next 11 miles to pee
3. 26 nutrition bag; bathroom
hammer a bit if condition calls for
expect to drink 60 oz in next 13 miles
crappy Hwy 44 service road incline leading to rest stop 4
4. 39; water and food could be distant from the road; drink pickle juice
maybe dump a bottle
higher heart rate skate before final stop
5. 43 air force base; busy stop with 3 distances;
skate quickly and safely to finish
----

The skate started comfortably-- fresh feet on rough pavement. We were stopped by the train shortly before the 50-mile / 100k split. Casey and I reminded each other to look for the sign to turn right to avoid the worst 10-mile chip n seal of this event.

I had problem keeping the middle bottles in jersey pockets. That bottle finally got its way and flew into a ditch at a turn. I let it go--40 oz should be enough for the 50-mile route.

We missed the 50-mile turn. By the time we realized it, it was too late to turn around. I needed new way to hold water.

_10 rough miles
This was the third time I skated over this rough section. I wised up and didn't push the pace. The urethane stayed intact enough we didn't have to rotate wheels. I stopped a few times examining bottles dropped by cyclists and finally found a safe-looking one that'd help me through the extended skate.

_glass smooth road
Rec cyclists moved at 14 to 17 mph. Casey and I mostly operated outside this range.
The road surface turned nice for a few miles. We hopped behind a tandem bike and averaged over 20 mph. I missed being part of Texas Flyer pace line.

We were back on familiar 50-mile script and knew what to expect from this point on.

_Highway 44 service road
The surface was marginally easier than the rough 10 miles, but our body parts were fatigue by this time. 50-mile and 100k cyclists were littered under the trees along the road. Casey and I struggled to maintain 10 mph.

I pointed out the big tree and its inviting shade at top of the hill, "that is not the rest stop; don't get your hopes up." Casey tried to remember the concept of humor. I avoided thinking about what the vibration was doing to my plantar fascia.

_Sheppard Air Force Base
Casey and I weren't in enough trouble to use the AC at the airbase. We slowed to admire the airplanes, stopped to check axles, and topped off liquid before leaving the popular rest stop.

I didn't expect the welcome from young soldiers along the road inside the base. I'll take off wrist slider before high fiving people next time.

The finish was anticlimactic. Our feet hurt more than legs.

# from Casey’s GPS:
Time: 4:47:47
Moving: 4:27:22
Avg speed: 12.9 mph
Avg moving: 13.4 mph
Max speed: 26.3

Slowest/fastest mile: 6.8/22.0 mph
Avg/max heart rate: 145/207 bpm (Casey is part hummingbird)

_post event
Casey and I walked the expo and scored a few deals. I sought out RBM owner Jim Hoyt in case he had a RAAM relay spot open or had Lance news.

Visited with Roger who rode 102 miles with a sore neck. It's always fun to see the world through his eyes. He made me want to through hike Appalachian Trail.

Stopped by H Mart after dinner for fruit and vegi shopping. Weight reduction would start the following Monday to hit my annual goal on 12/4/2011.

DRC Independence 10k, 7/21/2011

2011-07-20T15:51:00.000-07:00

I decided to focus 2011 on December 4th White Rock. Given Euro Roll 2011, 7/2 10k was a good “B” race before marathon training starts. In past years, May ~ July were non-running months.

_training
I went with Smart Coach. The training sessions and goal looked even less realistic than full- and half-marathons. This free service predicted my past races on the nose.

The only incomplete training session was 4 mi @ 7:30. Air temperature was 102 F. My pace broke after 3.5 miles. I was still sweating 30 minutes after the run.

I had no problem with 4x800 @ 95 F.

_race
Dallas Running Club ran an efficient affordable event. Parking was no problem for 850 runners at White Rock. Number and chip pick up took about 3 minutes with only 2 volunteers.

I felt sluggish and unrecovered @ 8am in the mid 80’s. GPS was set to 6:53 pace, a seemingly unrealistic pace to hold for 30+ min. “Trust your training,” I told myself.

Race started on time. I followed 9-year-old Cameron Ross at sub 7:00 pace; I passed the gifted boy shortly before the 5k U-turn. Cameron completed 5k in 22:04.

I was 60 meters behind at midpoint—exactly where I wanted to be. I felt hot but confident and wanted to apologize to Runner’s World for doubting.

My race was still under control when Biff showed up at mile 3.5. Then everything fell apart at mile 4. My body wouldn't deliver enough power in the heat. The involuntary grunts started. I was Sharapova with shorter and less hairy legs.

Biff urged me to hold the form. I knew I looked vulnerable when Biff started to tell me how great I looked. My pace bled. Sam and Sid were oblivious to my suffering; they were interested in the colors the racers wore.

Final 400 meters. I tried to sprint. I barely managed 7:00 pace for the all-out effort.

_fake emergency
A volunteer wanted me to return the chip at finish. I worried bending over could induce back spasm. I didn’t have enough strength to balance on 1 leg to un-Velcro the ankle strap. I didn't want to go into my spine issue and just told the volunteer I needed something to lean against.
She interpreted this as "I'm about to pass out."

“Are you hot; do you need water?”
I said yes and thought it was a dumb question to a sweaty runner after 10k.

Instead of water, she brought 2 paramedics. They rubbed ice on me and everything.
Hadn't received this much attention in a while.

_aftermath
Legs weren’t sore Sunday morning. I was still disappointed at the 10k. I decided to run errands on TT bike. Front derailleur developed issue 4 miles from the Baileys. Instead of a 5-minute gift drop off, I caused Biff to spend his Sunday morning fixing my derailleur cable.

Saw chiropractor Tuesday morning and confirmed overtraining. Besides the usual spine-related issues, I experienced the typical plantar fasciitis symptoms. So much for all the cobblestone running plans for Euro Roll.

I need to re-evaluate my goals.

#’s
847 runners (5k & 10k)
chip time: 45:23
avg 7:19 pace

Katy 5k. May 12, 2011

2011-05-15T17:10:00.000-07:00

My 5k's usually took 30 minutes. They typically involved saving boobs. Parking and starts tended to be sources of frustration.

Last night I planned on 7:00 pace for 3 miles then final 172 meters at 120 mph.
I executed the script and ended up with 21:03.

I felt a bit light headed during the 120 mph section. Wish I wore heart rate monitor.

As Timo promised, the after-race party was fun and fulfilling.

Long run 2011--Double Marathon. April 22

2011-05-15T16:53:00.000-07:00

_Motivation: baby steps
Pursuing the illusion of closer to Badwater, I decided on annual PR on running distance. I did not find a good event that fit schedule. I picked Good Friday--weather was reasonable; no major injury; I got a day off work. The preparation included skipping Thursday Yasso 800 and post-Yasso beer.
I laid out 2 GPS and 2 skinning running belts for gels and cash. I unwrapped the big running belt holding 2 10-oz bottles. I anticipated returning to the house between 2 marathons. I laughed when discovering I put on cycling gloves out of habit. I took them off and locked the door. Goal: 52.4 miles in 12 hours.
I ran toward The Colony exploring new routes. Instead of music, I listened to Richard Russo's _Empire Falls_ and Murakami's _The Wind-up Bird Chronicle_. I had a hard time with 11:00 pace. I needed more practice with slow pace.

_Crash
Mile 15. I opened a pack of Jelly Bean in the unfamiliar reseal-able bag. I tripped over a concrete block 10 cm higher than its neighbor. The elbow dripped red liquid in dramatic fashion--it's mostly sweat. I had the bag in hand therefore left palm scrape wasn't deep. It was a hard 5.5-mph fall. I kept going and wished I kept the gloves on. For a few days, brushing teeth and using washroom would be left-handed--skills we acquire through sports.
Lots of little aches. Big toe was throbbing. I didn't feel like running any more but was too cheap to call a taxi and too lazy to plan the makeup run. I kicked couple more sidewalk blocks and cursed at the city's budget cut. I was glad I wasn't wearing minimalist shoes.

I'll probably lose that toe nail.

Kroger was a great rest stop. Walgreen's Gatorade was twice the price, but it's all about location. 4 hours into the run, I became more dehydrated than I felt. The stream reminded me of the Fukushima Plant.

_Bonk
I was dumbfounded when hitting the wall at mile 23. I lasted longer at Cowtown with more climb at faster pace. There's no negotiating with one's physical condition. Could be dehydration; I wish I know for sure. I accepted the slower speed and stopped at a Dickey's BBQ on 121.
AC and ice water did wonders to my mood. I did not blend into the Friday 2pm crowd. Everyone else spoke fluent Spanish and seemed capable of construction and other real-man activities. A friendly gentleman asked, "you're a runner, aren't you?" I smiled and nodded my head. What gave it away, Sherlock: bloody elbow, compression shirt, spandex, calf sleeves, salt stain, or the sun visor? I consumed a big cup of mashed potato and large quantity of water during the long break.
_2nd half
11:30 pace became a struggle by mile 30. I ignore the pace and ran slowly home. The pool looked inviting as I swapped running belts and water bottle.

_Insufficient form
I chose the familiar Plano routes for the remaining 20 miles. Running became difficult by mile 35. I wasn't hurt or hungry; heart rate was low; the body just didn't want to run. I walk-ran against sunset. It was demoralizing. How did the same body finish Ironman? I considered ordering a pizza.
I developed empathy with the protagonists in both novels. I wondered what it'd take to develop that level of writing skills. Trusting quality of sidewalks, my mind drifted. I reviewed my life decisions. Long run is one way to gain fresh perspectives.
I took my time in the dark and finished double marathon. 11 hours moving. 1 hour of resting. I was in no shape to run 100 miles in 24 hours. I was disappointed but glad to have learned my fitness level.
Dinner tasted great. I estimated 5000 calories deficit. I considered downing 1 kg of sugar with couple eggs and calling it good.
I slept badly after the run. Typical after a long event.

2011-04-27T15:37:00.000-07:00

Texas Road Rash. April 17, 2011

I started skating late this year and decided to make TRR a “D” race; it's an annual social trip.
TSX delivered 31 mpg to Round Rock. I stopped by a Ducati dealer in Waco. Had mediocre BBQ next door. David Sedaris audio books made the time pass fast.

_World class
Joey Mantia looked bulkier than last time I saw him. I fantasized multiple US long track medals at Sochi 2014 after watching his huge lead at Saturday elimination race.
Debbie Rice decided not to compete despite having many choices of mismatched boots. Bont brought its young guns.

I acquired new Texas Flyer jersey before dinner with teammates.

It was great to see Duane and Scarlett. How priority changed in a few years: Duane, Scarlett, Harris, and Ritter moved away; Demer never regained form after operation; Jason went to cycling; I focused on long events; Phil doesn't skate much after his first born; Mackowski is recovering from boating accident. Casey was the only one getting faster.

_Marathon
1 mass start this year. I couldn't hang with the lead pack beyond couple miles but started with them any way. I love watching a race unfold up close. Joey didn't start easy like his last appearance. The pack let him go; everyone was confident in his inability to keep up with superboy. The headwind was downhill this year; Joey needed no help breaking wind.
I redlined and stood up to wait for safe-looking skaters to pick me up. Randy and Renee invited me in. Randy was a TRR champion and by far the fastest in the pack that included Margo and Gene. I stayed behind Renee and watch her being delivered half marathon finish. It was good to see her recovering well from surgery.
Lap 4: Joey lapped us . He made the pros understand how I felt when I tried to stay with them.

_Plotting
I discussed finishing strategy with Gene; it reminded me of skating with Tom Demer at inaugural TRR.
Chris and Brenda showed up . I assumed they bonked; I didn’t notice the torn jerseys. They joined the pack. I switched to race mode--Margo and Brenda were both pro masters.
Brenda didn't show bouncy legs. I took the lead and slow the pack at the final head wind. I warned Gene of the impending attacks. I didn't ask him to help Brenda--I was confident Chris and I would deliver Brenda to the line.
The slow downhill made everyone antsy. Couple half-hearted breakaways initiated after turning to cross wind. I held a steady pace in front of Chris and Brenda--my job was to keep Margo within range. I assumed Chris was ready to take over.
Gene accelerated and took over the lead. Margo cracked. I let her dry for a bit before passing her. She was unable to latch on. It’s tough to be out-teammated.
3 TXF jerseys skated together like the old days. My 110mm wheels actually felt good for a change.

Brenda won the pro master jacket and shared her cash winning.

It's good to see Duane and Jason return to the sport. Casey improved his speed similar to his running progress. It was always good to see Toronto skaters. Standing on age group podium, Gene grinned like a necrophiliac in the morgue.

My veins pop to be like Morgan

_Perspectives (quotes from inlineplanet.com and other sources)
Joey Mantia: "I basically stood up for 45 seconds to let them catch up. But when I stood up, they took a break themselves.... So I just kept going."
Justin Stelly describes it as "a nice, easy pace" after getting 2nd place.
3rd place Harry Vogel claims he got 2nd because "Joey doesn't count" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mSn4vMndj_E&feature=player_embedded)
Timo was happy with his time after spending more time golfing than skating, "big pack is the answer."
Brianna Kramer, winner of last year's NorthShore Inline Marathon, is on a break from the Wheels to Ice Program of the U.S. Olympic Committee. "This is the most exercise I've had in a month,"

Top female Brianna was tinier than expected

_Post TRR brick
I tripled the participation number by talking Timo and Casey into running. Timo suffered a DNF as Casey and I ran the course in reverse direction.

_Shopping:
I visited Austin's run, bike, and tri stores after lunch. I was disappointed by lace-less shoes. Zoot's marketing described the new blister inducing model as "designed for short-distance races." I scored 2 pairs of running shorts. My annual spring long run was coming up.
TSX averaged 34 mpg with tail wind after dinner with Jenny and Ray. I recalled my cancelled plan of racing as a pro master. I desired Candy to achieve her goal.

Rock n Roll Half Marathon 3/27/2011 Dallas

2011-04-02T03:37:00.000-07:00

I was unsatisfied with erratic pacing at Cowtown and felt the need to redeem. I also thought it’d be nice to run with Casey, who wanted a sub-100 min half. At the rate he's improving, this could be the last race we'd run at similar pace.

_The Competitor Group
I was carded when getting my race number. I was unhappy being forced to make the downtown trip just to pick up the race packet but couldn’t blame a for-profit organization for maximizing the traffic when parking alone is $10.
The event was well executed: race number and chip pick up, water stations, gear bag check, start line bus, porta potties, course markers, finish area.... In comparison, Dallas Marathon was poorly run.
For additional $1000 in the form of fundraising, the participants gets "an exclusive start-line lounge, gear transport from start to finish, a Komen cheer station party on the course for your donors and family, and a VIP finish-line party tent." There was an attractive bouncer guarding the VIP area inside the velvet ropes. I visualized cloth towels in the trailer bathroom completed with an attendant whose sole job was uttering “have a good race!”

_Expo
Vendors wised up and stopped selling Gu Roctane for $1.
Garmin rep was unhelpful in answering the question “is there’s a way to normalize the course length based on mile marker.”
I quizzed a few booths about compression socks. I wasn’t trying to be confrontational by demanding data—I really wanted to believe the 5% improvement in the ad.

_Taking chances
I tried new things in this "C" race:
- 3-week preparation for PR pace while fighting spine issue.
- First race with race flats. Green Silence’s odometer says 5 miles per shoe.
- Calf compression sleeves. I wore it for 5 minutes while being convinced by the salesperson. Actually, Biff did most of the convincing in past 3 months.

_Setting PR
Stomach wasn’t happy after the 1st banana at 5am. I threw trash bags, towel, and extra change of clothes into the car. I prayed the liver had enough glycogen for the race. I gained another lb since Cowtown and actually felt lightened by the GI issue.
Weather cooperated --cold, cloudy with pending rain, no wind. I wore 2 layers of disposable shirt and no gloves.

I gave Casey a cap hoping that'd weigh him down

Casey and I ran alongside 95-min pace balloon at 5k mark. Side stitch started. I let Casey go. The plan was sub-100-minute finish and even splits.
The motivation signs on the course reflected our time. Charlie Sheen's tiger blood was winning for this Rock n Roll.

running with Adam's Apple

_Half way
At mile 6, body parts were stressed at expected level. Big decision: how much speed to bleed on the final 2 miles of climbs? I focused on arm swing and listen to my body. “Don't use up the quads.”
I stuck with the 7:33 GPS pace and was 100 feet behind virtual partner by mile 8, the highest point of the course. I aimed for 7:15 pace for the final 5 descending miles. I used runners around me to keep up with this unnatural speed. I was rhythm challenged.
Saw no barefoot runner, but was paced by a pair of Vibrams for a few miles.
I raced a big dude for the final mile. I lost the sprint by half a step. So much for my supposedly sprinter’s legs.

_Post race
The organizer didn't anticipate the cold front and ran out of silver blanket by runner 312 in this 10000 runner event. There was no finishers' shirt. I lend Casey leg warmers to warm arms. It felt good to be helpful to a friend by making him look silly. After dropping him off at the train station, I attempted Sunday morning stroll in Carrollton downtown. Shivering started as I locked the car. Insulation and lightness are difficult to balance. I gave up active recovery.
I worried weight obsession would lead to eating disorder. I thought of Peter Sagal's words: ''It's not about being fat. ... people of all shapes whose sense of self is blessedly untethered from their weight. It's about the terror of what we might become if we allow ourselves to let go, to get weak, to slow down."

After shower and soup noodles, I sat at fireplace sipping bubble tea. Midori was playing Mendelssohn through the recently repair Yamaha DSP A1.

Shishamos, shrimps, bacon and wrapped scallop were baking in the oven as pinot grigio chilled. For this afternoon, the most difficult decision would be chopsticks or silverware for my tapas.

result:
Casey Murrell
Overall: 312 out of 10969 • Division: 36 out of 810 • Gender: 264 out of 4159
Pace 5 Km 10 Km 10 Mi ChipTime ClockTime
7:23 22:54 46:19 1:14:21 01:36:40 01:36:56

Johnny Chen
Overall: 342 out of 10969 • Division: 50 out of 674 • Gender: 287 out of 4159
Pace 5 Km 10 Km 10 Mi ChipTime ClockTime
7:26 22:53 46:43 1:15:12 01:37:22 01:37:39

We beat Aikman
Troy Aikman
Overall: 1206 out of 10969 • Division: 138 out of 674 • Gender: 879 out of 4159
Pace 5 Km 10 Km 10 Mi ChipTime ClockTime
8:16 27:19 54:05 1:24:50 01:48:11 01:52:42

2/27/2011 Cowtown 2011 50k run

2011-03-01T10:30:00.000-08:00

_Oscillating goals

It’s tempting to think 8:00 pace marathon implies easy 9:00 pace 50k. I decided to give a shot, ignoring that my marathon PR was set under ideal condition on an flatter course. After gaining 1 lb/week for 7 weeks following White Rock, I started training. I was quickly injured.

“Injury is runners’ best friend. It prolongs a runner’s career.”

I felt unready at a humid warm Cowtown 4 lb heavier than 3 months ago. Can’t stay light all the time. I needed to pick a pace between 9:00 and Oprah speed. I entered 9:38 into GPS for a sub-5-hr finish time.

I was under deadline pressure for a Cigna AFP-to-PDF project; work week stretched to 3am Sunday. I didn’t studying the course. This is a “C” race.

Goals:

1. Injury free

2. Even-ish splits

3. Under 5 hrs

_Logistics

VPN got pissed off at 3am on race day and refused to reconnect. This led to my early arrival at the race. I got a great parking spot. It's a super relaxing pre race. I sat in the car replying email on Galaxy Tab 'til 10 minutes before the race time. I remembered to mark the parking spot on GPS.

There was a McDonald on the way to the start. No line at the very clean bathroom.

I decided to be late on purpose. The mass start was a mess last year. I treated this like a "C" race. Not too surprisingly, the start was delayed, and I ended up warming up with the fast guys, most of them didn't appear East African.

I packed 7 gels: 1 every 4 miles. Each of the 2 tri shirt pockets held 4 gels comfortably. No SportLeg this race; I didn't anticipate anaerobic threshold to be a factor.

Getting water at rest stop cost significant time before the half marathon split. I watch my lead on Garmin's virtual partner shrank with every water station.

GPS agreed with mile markers almost exactly at mile 6 and 7. The difference grew by 10~30 feet per mile. Maybe I cut the tangent overly aggressively the first few miles.

_Running form

I started to train with running flats to focus on forefoot landing. This creates more demand on calves. Half way into the race, I sense more use of heel cushions. I had a long way to go before Vibrams and sandals.

My calves were more sore than previous races. Felt good about that.

For this race, I chose Brooks Axiom instead of heavier Asics Nimbus that served me well in last 4 years. It was tempting to use racing flats; fortunately I didn't have enough motivation to risk it.

_Off course

By mile 20, I started to wonder whether I missed the marathon-ultra split. I wished I studied the course. False alarm. The course split was close to the finish.

I was off the course briefly. Other runners quickly corrected me. Strong wind blew down the turn marker.

_Erratic pacing

I always felt slow first 3 miles and overly confident at mile 18. I decided to switch to a more natural speed half way into the race. I averaged 9:11 pace and felt in control. Everything felt apart by mile 27. You can postpone but not ignore the wall.

Trinity River trail was windy. I was unable to hold Oprah speed for a stretch of 800 meters--mental weakness. An ultra-newbie asked me to pace him at this time. I ran much better trying to meet a stranger’s expectation.

There are lots of factors a runner can blame: temperature, humidity, missing course marking, weight, sleep deprivation, injury.... None of the excuses seemed legit at mile 28 of a 31-mile race. I only felt how much I sucked.

It took will power to accelerate to 8:00 pace during the final mile. Last 400 meters were 6:39 pace at 181 bpm HR. I failed to dose my effort. I was such an amateur….

_Post Race

My legs were stiff from the fast finish. I literally got blown around inside the finishing chute. I walked to Kimbell Art Museum to stare at paintings. Females in the paintings--including Venus--didn't look to be in shape to run a marathon.

Legs' functionality mostly returns after 1.5 hours touring Fort Worth art district.

The finisher's shirt grew in size this year much like Nike U. S. sizing. Small is the new medium now.

The drive home was pleasant on the 1-year-old section of 161. TSX did well at 120 mph.

Aunt Sherry cooked me a big dinner.

Life is good.

looked less fat than I felt

#’s

Course official: 50k

Course GPS: 31.17 mi

Avg/Max HR: 153/182 bpm

Avg/Fastest pace (quarter mile interval): 9:27/6:39

Potty break: 1

Shoes: Brooks Axioms

Gels: 9

Time: 4:54:15

Pace: 9:29

Splits:

10k: 59:34

half: 2:05:27

30k: 2:57:20

marathon: 4:07:53

Official result says I missed the top 10 finish in age group by less than 1 second. Things you don't expect in life....

between White Rock and Cowtown -- changing goal

2011-02-23T16:25:00.001-08:00

_Boston

2012 goal was to Qualifying for RAAM at The Texas Time Trial.

2010 spring I was forced to choose between work (BofA American Disability Act financial statement project) and long training rides. I kept my job.

My bike training volume never recovered from those 6 months. I felt like a loser every time I saw the overly shiny Ksyrium clinchers.

I considered other previously unanticipated issues:

> knee pain during long trainer rides

> TTTT moved to a less desirable location

> desire to get back to long skates

> long runs are interfering with bike training

> uncertainty of my paying job

My employer actually treats me well--as long as I perform. Changing career is unlikely because I never learn to say "I like your hair; your leadership is excellent, too."

I started to question the wisdom to invest next 2 seasons on a 1-day event given the limited resources. The odds looked unfavorable.

New goals:

1. (by May 2011) run 50 miles under 12 hours--roughly the same pace as Karnazes' 350-mile run.

2. (by February 2012) run a marathon under 3:21. This is not the easiest way to qualify for Boston--waiting 2 years would be easier. Based on last 3 years' progression, 3:21is doable under good race condition.

3. (by March 2014) complete a 100-mile run.

_Body I live with

Spent the holiday with family in Taiwan. Had a wonderful long bike ride with brother. ChihYang also set me up with local group for a long skate to New Bamboo (http://www.wretch.cc/blog/firefly2007/11079746).

Lower back operated within parameters but got pissed off after the long flight back to Texas. Spasm started after I started training for Cowtown. Last spasm was August 2009; I suppose this is an improvement over the semiannual spasms....

_Resuming movie geeking

I became an A/V snob in the mid 1990’s with acquisition of a large screen TV, LD player, and audio system. My annual 400-hour invested watching feature films shaped my social circle and daily schedule.

I reduced my movies time with preparation of Ironman and Montreal 24-hour skate. By this time I finished most classics. There are many great movies not in English and Chinese.

2010 Xmas. I acquired Roku and switched to Netflix. The streaming model enables reviewing first minutes of many movies before investing the full length. Netflix provides bookmarking so I could watch shows in segments. I start spend time watching movies again.

Netflix video quality is not the best. The audio sampling rate is horrible. The subscription allows 2 concurrent devices so my aunt gets to use my account for free. Considering the $8 monthly price tag, it’s an exceptional value.

_Running form

I caught a glimpse of good form at mile-15 of my first marathon. The relay runner glided on the ground while rest of us bounced up and down testing our spines.

I obsessed over running form since that day. What makes these skinny black dudes so much better than rest of us?

Related questions: why are there disproportion number of good runners capable of running with crappy or no shoes? Kenyans, Ethiopians, Tarahumara.

I vowed to improve my technique. I acquired many running shoes--I don't have another mean to learn shoes. I gave away 3 pairs of barely used shoes with $300+ MSRP. I wrote it off as medical expense. I'll put Vibrams into the rotation by mid March.

_PED

It's hard to be a cycling fan since that glorious Floyd Landis Tour de France stage.

I still don't understand the reasoning behind stripping Landis' Tour title when Zabel and Riis stayed in the record book. Why does Contador get 1-year ban when everyone else get 2? His defense suggests cyclists should become vegetarians or--minimally--lawyers.

15 years of Tour's non-positive winners--we're down to Carlos Sastre and Lance Armstrong.

Greg Lemond's reasoning: when power data shows the vast majority is doping, what does that say about the guy who win it 7 times? Marion Jones never had a positive test result either. Lance and Marion both have their shares of non-negative results. To that end, Rassmusen was really clean.

Regardless whether Lance gets indicted, there ain't no way this will turn out OK ....

This makes me worry for Joey Mantia, potentially the last great American Olympic long track skater for a long time to come. I feel I need to drive to Denton and give Jordan a hug.

White Rock Marathon 2010

2010-12-12T21:11:00.000-08:00

After missing bike goal this year, I made White Rock the "A" event. I wanted to focus on long runs for next 4 years; this could be my last shot at PRing marathon. I arbitrarily set the goal at 3.5 hrs. Round numbers are easy to remember.

_Training

I've had good luck with Runner’s World Smart Coach. I followed the 16-week program. I was unable to finish 3 long runs at 8:40+ pace. Confidence wavered. “What are the chances of finishing the entire race at sub 8:00?”

For the first time I stopped biking for the December foot race. I practiced downhill. I acquired cadence sensor. I prayed for a cold and dry race.

_Expo

Luke's and Run-on had their usually pre-race deals; I stocked up on equipment and nutrition. I bought an overpriced fenny bag alleged to hold any cell phone produced after World War II.

The most important thing I got out of the Friday trip was how bad the traffic could be for the new race location Fair Park.

_A good start

I got the correct weather and a good parking spot.

The layering went as planned. I took off the long pants during national anthem. The sweatshirt came off 5 seconds before triggering the timer. T-shirt was tossed 2 miles in the race. Arm warmers made of old socks went into mile 18 trash bin.

I vowed not to repeat the 2009 mistake when I followed the official pace balloon:

Super slow first mile;

Running around people first 3 miles;

Surging up climbs;

Massive slow down toward the end;

GPS distance ended up 2% longer than certified distance.

I lined up between 3:20 and 3:30 balloons. I made a point of taking every tangent even at the cost of speed. I kept my HR up going downhill.

_13

I enviously thought of Shelley and Doug’s water break.

Everything operated within reasonable range when I reached half marathon. I moved 2 blister-free feet in 3-year-old neural Asics marketed toward fat men. Weak left ankle and pronated right ankle induced no pain this morning. I fantasized running barefoot. GPS and mile markers almost synced.

_Overly optimistic

Mile 18: felt good. I was on pace for 3:25 finish. I wanted to attack the hills. I wanted to fly by people going up hills. Vainty.

Boston qualifying time was 3:21. Cutting 4 min in 8 miles seemed unrealistic. I decided to hammer if I felt strong on first nipple. Theoretically I could finish last 5k in 21 min.

I wondered if they'd rename the hill "Kim Kardashian" after Dolly passes away.

_20 miles of hope + 6.2 miles of reality

Biff showed up to pace at the proverbial wall. I lost enough steam I barely kept up with the electronic pacer. Biff reminded me next 3 miles were hills. Avoiding bonk was the primary task.

I ignored heart rate. Legs were the weak link. Speed bled as we climbed out of the lake. I increased the cadence and shortened the strides--I ran like a skater at A2A hills.

I heard jingle bells. I wanted Lance’s acquittal for Xmas.

_Super power

A petit girl in front started to limp. I watched her form deteriorated prior to turning 180 degrees and ran backward.

I caught up with a barefoot marathoner. Runners around me informed he's the famed Barefoot Mark. "Hey, that guy has no shoes!" I wondered whether spectators would be more surprised if Mark were naked. I talked to him after race. His name was Eric and had no idea who Barefoot Mark was.

I had run with familiar faces for 3 hours by now. We kept passing each other; speed was a function of grade and body mass.

_Weight control 2010

I overshot the 139-lb goal this year and had to get new pants. The body handled the new weight without significant issue. Perhaps I lost muscle mass by not swimming. I was 3 lb overweight based on Alberto Contador’s BMI but was obese compared to Rasmussen.

_Dolly Parton Hills

Like Heart Break, strategically placed Dolly wasn't steep. I was 200 meters behind pace at first peak. Meltdown felt impending. I slowed further to reach the 2nd peak. Biff was supportive of the unmanly decision; he's bonked here before.

"Don't challenge the hills;"

"Trust your training."

Keeping up with the virtual partner felt like racing against Herb Gail. I changed the Garmin display to non-pacer mode. I pondered the risk of lose 2 kg.

_ McMillan got the last laugh

Plan A:

First 3 miles: Conserve energy and be willing to sacrifice 30 seconds per mile for better paths.

Average 7:51 GPS pace at mile 20.

8:00 pace climbing.

Fly down hills.

90% max HR after 2nd nipple.

Sub 7:00 final mile.

Plan B:

Stay with GPS' even pace for a 3:30 finish.

Biff's email that I tried not to follow:

"McMillan running recommends SLOWER pace 1st 5 miles; FASTER next 16; and SLOWER (fade) last 5 miles."

There was no hammering after Dolly. The final miles were surreal: my life had 1 clear objective. I kept losing the runners I tried to follow; I accepted reality. There was no bitterness, no regret, no pain, no what-if's. My body was pounded by the pavement 96 times a minutes; I had little control over my limbs. The feet moved toward the finish; I let them carry me. Time slowed down; each mile became more vivid.

_Friends

Casey finished so strong, he wondered if different pace could've got him a 100-minute finish for half.

Terence's knee didn't hurt enough to stop him. His first long race made him want to race Cow Town in 3 months.

Stephen had a smooth race 'til final mile. He finished a few minutes before his brother.

I was looking forward to break 3.5-hr at the same race with Andy this year. His Achilles’ tendon led him to skip 2010 marathons.

Mark decided 2011 would be his out-of-retirement race. Maybe.

_Post season

I parked at different lot than I thought. The hour walk looking for TSX was nice active recovery.

No training was scheduled 'til 2011. The most important remaining sports activity in 2010 was enjoying the post-marathon sushi buffet. I also saved a Dunkin Donut coupon for Tour de Donut training run.

#'s

Chip Time 3:28:17

10K Time 48:20

Half Time 1:41:47

20 Mile Time 2:37:04

Total Pace 7:57/M

breakfast starting 2.5 hrs before the gun:

1 banana

1 trail mix bar

1 energy bar

1 Gu Chomps

2 coffees

on course nutrition:

Gel every 4 miles.

sip of water at every station that wouldn’t slow me down too much

SportLeg 2.5 hours into race

Glassy pavement, cool air, sugary pastry, reluctant bearings, car crash, 4000 calories, Ukrainian polka

2010-11-09T15:42:00.001-08:00

Tour de Donut 2010. 11/7/2010

I fantasized racing this event for 3 years. Decision to participate tipped for 2010: conversation with the founder, Kobayashi's arrest, Renee's last event before spine surgery, Timo's offering to drive.

_Gentle start
Donut-loving cyclists felt less intimidating than most bike races. The timing mats were uneven and narrow. A few of us skaters move to the very front to minimize the # of cyclists we needed to trust.

No lead vehicle. I drafted behind a marshal and led the entire field heading into the first turn. After a few turns at the mall, we had a light tail wind on smooth pavement. Life was beautiful. I sped toward glazed donuts. Chris, Casey, and Timo didn't catch up; they had breakfast.

_Glitches
The wheels didn't roll well. I was using non-race set up: replacements ceramic bearings for another set of ceramics I also didn't like. I skated noisily.

A truck made louder noise by rear ending a stopped vehicle in front of a parked police car. The 3 motorists looked surprised. Upon impact, I jumped to the other side of rumble strips for seemingly no good reason.

The rest stop came a little earlier than expected. I came to a complete stop and skated back to feed zone.

_Breakfast
First 3 donuts were delicious. They cost me about 2 minutes. Next 4 took longer. Timo and Casey came in with the Rolling Viking. Tore had cool outfit and matching thighs.

I consumed the 7 high-heart-rate-compatible donuts then found a steady cyclist. He pulled me all the way to rest stop #2.

_Bottleneck
I started eating while willing the HR to settle. During donut #10, a racer in watermelon helmet cheerfully pointed out that 2009 winner was rolling out after 23. Had I completed the remaining course at speed of light, the big dude would've still beaten me. I accepted defeat and slowly processed the planned dozen. Kobayashi could've inhale them in 2 minutes flat. My ingesting speed deteriorated by donut 15. Swallowing required conscious effort. #18 probably took 5 minutes to finish.

Casey waited and pull for the remaining miles. On chip n seal, I experienced doubt whether the 4000 calories would stay at the preferred end of esophagus. Casey had to let his draft go to avoid my reversal.

Thanks to Hoffmann and Coffman's instruction, the cheap n seal was shorter lived. The skaters route utilized I-10 service road. Chris MacKowski did not follow the instruction precisely and celebrated his first freeway skate. The interstate excursion cost him the honor of being the first skater to cross the line.

Too Full Too Hawk (photo by Wonder Girl)

My digestive system was unaccustomed to this level of processed flour and refined sugar. I did not desire lunch and was grateful for Timo's barf-free ride back to DFW.

#'s

donuts: 19
consumption rate per:
rest stop 1: 94 sec
rest stop 2: 150 sec

waiting for traffic light: 2 min

avg speed: 12 mph
avg moving speed: 17.6 mph

total time: 2:27:41
adjusted time: 0:52:41

nutrition info (http://www.shipleydonuts.ws/glazed_donut.html)
217 calories
54 grams (11 g fat, 25 g carb)

prelim result: http://www.tourdedoughnut.com/Photos_and_Results/2010TDDResults.htm

"I am very hungry, I wish there were hot dogs in jail."
-- Takeru Kobayashi
7/5/2010:
(http://sports.espn.go.com/new-york/news/story?id=5355723)

A2A 52-mile 2010

2010-10-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

I planned to skip 2010 A2A to focus on Texas Time Trial. The cycling training went down the toilet because of work. I did the minimum preparation to skate A2A. It’d be another nice skate with friends. I would go hard for 38 miles then stroll to Atlanta like 2009.

I checked the confirmed list and didn’t find the right group to skate with. I was unlikely to have the speed to hang with the chase group for 38 miles. I saw John Charbonneau and Monique on the 52-mile roster and decided to skate with them.

We rode the airport shuttle to Athens with last year’s winner Marcy. She was fit and confident. She had 2.5 jobs and trained on skates and bike. Some people are good with time management.

Casey and I had an early dinner at a very busy Mellow Mushroom on a UGA game night amongst young people passionate about their football team.

Phil rode the morning bus from Atlanta. A2A was a last minute decision. He announced he was going the full distance.

_Party Bus
As I step onto the bus to 52-mile start, skaters commented on my stumbling crossing the street.
“Your luggage was going faster than you.”
“Are you using it for the race? If not, can I borrow it?”
“It might be safer if you just ride on it.”

Nancy remembered everyone’s name and cracked jokes. Joe shared story of a girl racing under influence; he described her speed of approaching nakedness. We debated pros and cons of LSD vs. DNF.

Team Pines’ Vanessa seemed to have trouble concentrating in that atmosphere. She looked serious. She had 110mm wheels and 3 bananas.

_Injured Asphalt Beach/K2 skater
John Charbonneau and I shared many miles in past few A2A. He sat out NYC 100k the week prior because of a knee issue and was advised to skip A2A. He decided to skate the shorter and flatter course.

I was a little surprised when John set the pace at the race started. “Aren’t you supposed to go easy?”
I followed him. “Might as well draw out the competition before merging with the 87 mile-course.”

Vanessa and her teammate Dani bridged. They often pushed the pace climbing. 4 of us worked well together.

We passed Skatey Mark’s 87-miler pack. Mark wore a weird smile that resembled grimace. Another Montreal 24-hour medalist Luke jumped off his 87-mile pack to join us 52-milers.

_Wrong turn
All 5 of us missed a turn sign. John immediately sensed the error and brought us back on track. My off-course record remained 100% for this distance.

_Silver Hill (42.1 mph)
Team Pines skated strong turning into Silver Hill Road and chose not to skate down with us.
"They're so gonna kick my rear on the next climb...."

The 3-man train wasn’t as fast as hoped; the wind was blowing incorrectly. The long downhill gave us a big lead over the 2 Pines. Serves them right for having single-digit combined body fat.

I fully expected the quads to cramp up on the climb after Silver Hill for the 4th year; they miraculous stayed strong. “This is the best day!”

The anticipated Pine attack never materialized. I could see Vanessa and Dani in distance. I kept the pace civil hoping for more 87-milers to join the pack. Team Pines never bridged.

We picked up Naomi and Brian Oswald. We lost them before last set of little climbs.

_Decision
8 miles to go. No other 52-milers in sight. Barring mechanical and crash, John and I had the race in the bag. I ran through the tactics required to maximize my chance to win the sprint finish. Last few miles contained hairy elements including unpredictable traffic. I had vivid image of Chuck crashing inside of Piedmont Park in 2008. I also remember watching Bob Ryan went to first base with a tree in 2009.

“Do I really need to risk injury for a solo win during my running season?”
“How would I feel to share a win with a friend?”
“How would I feel to win an event without a trophy?”
These were no-brainers.
I knew what Coach Mike would do if it boiled down to just teammates in the lead pack.

_52-mile finish
John and I agreed to tie. The road was smoother and windier than expected. 3 of us skated cooperatively to the finish without incidence--almost. John crashed with 2 feet to go. He log rolled across the finish line. The hand-holding rule lacked specifics; we insisted it was a tie.

(photo by Lenny)

Luke got another sub-6-hour finish.

Luke and Naomi (photo by Lenny)

After Eddy and unwheeled volunteers peeled us off the pavement, John received a bag of ice; I got a Candy cookie--the perfect ending to a short and wonderful skate season.

Marcy was all smiles at the line I thought she won again.

Vanessa and Dani bonked shortly after Silver Hill. They regrouped and came in half hour later to claim 1st and 3rd places.

after winning 52-mile(photo by Lenny)

I had a chance to spend time with Renee under a tree under a blue sky. She had such good attitude about the upcoming spine surgery.

_38-mile race
Casey took a spill trying to pick up water bottle off road side. The road rash was minor, but he lost his pack and had to stay in no man's land ‘til Luke’s group picked him up.

Dan Butler, 2009 3rd place finisher, had a bad start. He skated solo for a long way but never bridged to lead groups.

Bob Clare and Candy stayed with the lead pack and took 38-mile titles.

_The main event
Eddy dominated the full-distance race.
Karin beat Jessica (2nd) and Marcy (3rd).

(photo by Lenny)

_Another decision
Phil’s day didn’t go as hoped.

He skated 71 miles and was mostly alone after mile 38. Traffic got hairy. He was a family man on a business trip. With sufficient gas in the tank to finish the race, he pulled the plug and had dinner with coworkers.

_End of season
Casey and I went to Mellow Mushroom again with Atlanta Greg, famed Naomi, and London skaters.

Eddy showed up in skin suit at the pizza joint, ordered to-go pizza, bought everyone hummus, and took off.

I asked 2nd time participant Richard about his favorite aspect of A2A.
"The People"

My hamstring cramped Sunday night. Funny considering hamstring wasn’t a primary muscle used. The blister wasn't a surprise; I didn't put in the mileage for the feet and Simmons to form reasonable hill-relationship for 2010.

Sunday morning. Casey and I took a midtown walking tour after a satisfying breakfast. We got kicked out of Georgia Tech football field before DNF on completing the Coke block and reaching CNN headquarter. Exercise wasn't a priority at that moment.

The 52-mile trophy came down to a coin toss. I won!

#'s
distance/speed (official): 52 miles/15.9 mph
max speed: 42.1 mph
total ascent: 4487 ft
total descent: 4625 ft
off course: 1 time
avg/max HR: 162/176 bpm
traffic stop: a few minutes
liquid: 1 liter water + 20 oz Cytomax
food: 580 calories: Gu Chomps, 4 Gu gels, 6 sport legs

Tandem jump. Sept 3, 2010

2010-09-13T20:41:00.000-07:00

The seed was planted in summer 1991 in Syracuse.

We were bunch undergrads on a National Science Foundation grand. We tossed around spending ideas now we had a steady income for the first time. Physics and CS majors in their early 20’s had difficulties thinking beyond the stereotypicals: electronics, gambling, pornography, and violence. An English major smoking pot was listening to us geeks. “Why don’t you jump out of an airplane or something?”

I had a conflict and couldn’t participate but remembered my summer friends’ exuberance after the experience. Aerodynamics of parachute is a miracle regardless of your physics Achievement score.

Decades later, Gordon S forwarded me a Groupon. All I had to do were paying $140 and showing up.

The actual act is disproportionally shorter than foreplay.
? 1-hour drive during non traffic hours to Skydive Dallas.
? Read and sign 3 sets of paperwork declaring I really really really won’t sue if I die.
? 5 mins of video of a guy reading a Cliff Note version of those 3 sets of paper.
? 15 min of instructional video explaining how to correctly acting like a deadweight.
? Practice 2 moves: arch back, lift legs.
? Watch other people jump out of plane. Make small talks.
? Wait a long time.
? Watch more people jump out of plane. Make small talks.
? Put on suit.
? Put on harness overly tight.
? Unsuccessfully request a less hairy instructor with lower penis count.
? Walk funny to avoid rope burn.
? Wait a long time.
? Get on plane with bunch crazies who can’t wait to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.
? Plane takes off. Wait a long time before reaching altitude while Dave hairy guy makes the harness tighter.

The overhead dominated process reminded me of golf except packing the golf bag correctly was slightly less critical. Even though the pilot and I were the only ones not directly carrying a parachute, everyone used his seatbelt.

Dave obsessively checked our harnesses as if preventing a prisoner’s escape. He repeated the same instructions making sure I was conscious. Oprah would’ve praised his willingness to communicate in a relationship. I inquired about # of his clients defecated in their pants. To my relief and disappointment, it turned out such act took more muscle contractions than a petrified human was capable of utilize. “Quite a few threw up after landing…. Except one girl passed out in the air, and I had to bring her to the ground like a log.”

Divers knew exactly what to do. The door opened when reached the altitude. They maneuvered toward outside, hanged on to the plane like ninjas, then let go. Their faces seemed to light up. Looked like fun.

I wasn’t allowed the cool dangling in the air move.

Dave made me move cowardly with arms folded covering my non-exposing nipples. There was no jumping out of the plane. I was shoved out by my 180-lb hairy backpack. I noticed I was going the wrong way the moment the fall started. Somehow Dave determined I could use more excitement than the model student in the instructional video. It wasn’t difficult to locate the ground but was hard to find Gordon. Gordon’s camera found me. We linked hands. I tried to say something sophomoric into the camera; syllables got blown away by the wind. We did a few spins. I was a bit disoriented. The view was wonderful. I had no urge for new-underwear-requiring activities.

I felt sudden rope burns developing. No need to look up. The chute opened—not nearly as exciting as free fall. There was nothing to do but relax and enjoy. Communication by air vibration was viable at this speed. Dave pointed out Red River and Oklahoma using his hairy right index finger.

After the soft landing, Dave praised my ability to lift legs. He was also pleased that I didn’t’ leak. I hadn’t had bars set so low for over 3 decades.

Every blade of grass smiled and welcomed me back on this sunny windy day. It was a fun ride.

Hotter n Hell 100. 8/28/2010

2010-09-12T15:27:00.000-07:00

a bit small for a 10000-rider start

_Shopping
The consumer expo seemed bigger. Some venders overflowed outside of MPEC. Many good deals didn’t show up ‘til Saturday morning.

Chatted with Fulk from Dynamic Bike Fit. He failed to convinced me his studio would be the best direction for my $.

I scored
$9 sun glasses to replace some cracked ones
Maxx amber sunglasses to replace the one given to Duane at Goatneck
Team USA jersey I didn’t need but wasn’t able to resist $10 tag and the free cap
Gloves I used for Saturday ride.
For motorcycle:
Fancy LG compression long sleeve + tights at 70% off
Perl Izumi sun sleeves

_Carbo load
Ate spaghetti with strangers on the ice rink. A 102-mile newbie sought advice. The veterinarian advised her to focus on hydration; he shared his sensible rest stop strategy. She turned to me as I was nodding, “is that what you’re doing, too?” “I ain’t stopping.” She looked horrified and wasn’t convinced by my explanation “it won’t be that hot.” The vet asked a few quantitative questions; I shared my water loss rate, heart rate, bottle number, and other info from the 2009 ride. In response, he talked about a coworker who was Michael Jordon of the semen extraction world. “He would fly all over the world and do all kinda exotic animals.” The attractive newbie stopped eating her pasta as the professional explained the details of preserving endangered animals.

I hope she got enough carb for the Saturday ride.

_Course
It’s the same 102-mile course I tend to bonk around mile 80. Some road surfaces were rough; slight climbs were involved. The original plan was to domestique for Tom Baker, who couldn’t make it because of family and work obligations. I decided to make it an annual fitness test. Even pace; stop less; have fun. I carried 5 water bottles--enough to last 5 hours in this weather. I used the heavier clinchers instead of aero tubulars. I also added the heavy profile seat bottle holder.

_Accommodation
I stayed at Ann’s for the 2nd year. Her house was close enough to the official start I didn’t have to worry about Saturday parking. Ann treated us like guests and gave us morning food. I looked forward to the fresh-ground coffee the whole week.

It was great chatting with her after a post-ride shower instead of worrying about late check out.

_Unofficial start
I started my computer by pedaling and forgot to reset at the start line.

I got to the start 30 min early. My nose started to run standing in the wind. Some riders took off. I went with them. 17 mph was a good warm up speed. I eventually settled amongst Team Bulge.

The road was blocked 10 miles into the ride for the 100k racers where mosquitoes waited for us. Cat 1, cat 2, cat 3, cat 4. The racers seemed pretty relaxed. The last pack was the “official paced group” where each rider paid a fee for pacing and liquid from 2 support motorcycles.

_Mechanical
Somehow my chain came off during mosquito feeding. By the time I started rolling, I was trapped in a slow moving pack that jammed every little climb. “Johnny Chen!” Rick Breckenridge shouted from the lead pack slicing through the slow goers. I hopped on his group for a few minutes, enough to bridge me back to the Bulges. I resisted the temptation to stay with Rick.

_Tail wind
Mile 22. We caught the official pace group. I evaluated options:
1. stay in a pack of 50+ strangers going at erratic speed that’d lead to certain bonking
2. sit in a steady group parasitically to finish under 5 hours while inhaling motorcycle fume
I picked the fun option. I ran out of gears during couple decent. Everyone had a big smile on their faces going 30+ mph.

Next 70 miles went as planned: I stayed on the bike except a 90-sec pit stop. Reality set in as wind changes direction. I felt weak around mile 80 and struggled to stay in draft. The legs gave out at mile 92. I limped to mile-98 beer stop. It was good to see Rick in the shack; he also went too fast.
“It never gets easier, you just go faster.” --Greg LeMond

A beer and sausage later, I was able to enjoy the short ride back to town.

Distance: 103.4 miles
Avg speed: 19.1 mph

3rd bike

2010-09-05T14:32:00.000-07:00

_Cool car
Decided to utilize my real estate after failing to sell the house in 2009. I planned to increase the vehicle : garage space ratio. I shopped for 2005/2006 Lotus Elise and other cool wheels and was turned off by their potential maintenance cost.

_Tree hugging
I became noncommittally environmentally conscious after reading _Farewell, My Subaru_. I considered going green and looked into hybrids and electric cars. For environment benefits, it felt hypocritical to acquire a 2nd car given my existing 4-cylinder TSX gets 32-mpg highway.

_Electric bike
Researching electric car led to electric bicycles. Assuming 500 combined watts, I could theoretically pedal to work at Lance Armstrong speed.

Finding a suitable electric bike was a frustrating experience. The law required preprogrammed shutoff--I was actually slower on electric bike than on my road bike. Defeating the firmware was not guaranteed and probably voids the warranty; cyclists reported unexpected rolling resistance beyond 26 mph. I didn’t like the idea of doubling current bike weight. The price tag was similar to a small motorcycle.

_Electric motorcycle
I ditched the idea as soon as I saw the cost of replacement Li-ion batteries.

_Kawasaki
I’d wanted a Ninja since high school. Timing seemed right. I had covered parking at home and at work. I’d fantasized about convertible since my California days. I wanted to get one before losing all my hair.

_Bridging the gap
The hassle of becoming street legal wasn’t horrible.
Completed a motorcycle course during 7/17/2010 weekend. It was typical Texas summer weather in a typical Dallas parking lot. Wished I thought of this during spring. I wrote it off as Badwater training.

Took the written test in DMV a few days later.

_Shopping
Checked out used bikes in local shops and on ebay. The first plan was to get a small, cheap, and droppable used bike for a few months to learn exactly what I want. Dave Guadiz, who went through midlife crisis decades ahead of schedule, warned me against small engines. Tim Denning convinced me 500+ cc’s were safer on highway. I learned a few months of ownership were likely to cost $1000.

Found a black Ninja ZX-6R at Town East Ford dealer through ebay. Advertised to have < 500 miles and look brand new. I went to the dealer and saw it was obviously dropped. How dumb did car sales people think bikers were?

I learned about a rebate for 2009 Ninja 650R. After 10 min of haggling with the 3rd Kawasaki dealer I contacted, I paid bike and helmet’s MSRP. The dealer absorbed taxes, fees, and 3 yrs of maintenance. This is the first time I walked out of a motor vehicle dealer without feeling taken. The upside of a down economy. The 2009 motorcycle was cheaper than my 2005 Quintana Roo Lucero.

I was a little insulted with the motorcycle insurance rate. Statically I belong to the demographics of predictably boring.

_Ownership
The lime green toy works as advertised. 47 mpg. Easy to park. 0 to 60 mph in no time. Tons of fun. I even enjoyed the apparel shopping.

Maybe I’ll take it to do something cool—like jumping out of an airplane.

Texas Road Rash

2010-05-24T21:12:00.000-07:00

April 24
This is the first year Donnie and I didn’t race elimination. Donnie broke his shoulder; I failed to convince the organizer to reverse course direction.

April 25
I was thinking of racing half, but legs recovered quicker than anticipated. I wanted to skate with my teammates, and it’s wave start. I hesitated before checking the “pro master” box on registration.
It was a beautiful Austin day. I had no personal ambition; just wanted to enjoy the day. I felt blessed standing next to so many familiar faces. Debbie was one of the last racers getting to the line; she had matching boots this year.
Coach Mike led the team for our own pace line, letting the long bungee cord speeding away. Mike and Timo controlled our pace as we slowly pick straglers. We reeled Candy in. Timo suggested she should join Texas Flyer.

[photo by Donnie Lucas]

I started having difficulties setting left skate down and decided to leave the pack after a final pull. Mike told me the exact point he expected me to lead. It’s nice to have clear direction some times. The pack slowed as I finished popped off. I stayed with the pack.
Final lap. Ryan couldn’t contain himself and accelerated with Timo. Ryan had matured as a speed skater. I’ll probably never fly by him again, regardless how much my helmet looks like a sperm.

Not to waste the brick opportunity, I put on running shoes for a lap. The quads were a little heavy after skating; it took couple miles before body adjusted.
Post race: I walked downtown streets and fantasized moving to Austin and train on Veloway for Montreal 24 Hour solo.
Had my annual dinner with Ray, Jenny, and baby Asher before the long drive home.

Granbury, TX 4-17, 4-18

2010-05-10T20:56:00.000-07:00

Planned 2-day run: 38 + 25 miles

Day 1
Nothing went right for the organizer: the road was rough and busy, some sections got torn down for resurfacing. It was cold and rainy. I put on my triathlon outfit. How wet could it be.

The first day route was scenic. Slightly over-hydrated. Andy drove the SAG van following me. Other guys hopped in and out of van biking different sections. Cows and bulls seemed to enjoy our visit. Every time I started walking, I felt Andy getting hopeful: “the stupid runner is tired and we'll going to a restaurant.”

A sagger commented watching the runner was as exciting as watching paint dry. 35 miles into the run, I stopped running by popular demand. Everyone wants a warm meal in dry cloth.

Fried fish was great. We sat by a fire after dinner. We shared bacon flavored chocolate for dessert.

Day 2
Lower back a little tight. The hotel has a nice lobby for breakfast. I made a waffle based on steps as clear as Chinese electronics instruction.

I reduced the planned distance and broke away from the group. The trip was to test legs; no need to force everyone watching paint dry. I ran through the airport, big-screen theater, skating rink, football stadium, supervision and correction dept, and downtown skyline dominated by 2-story buildings. I was delighted the legs cranked out 10:00.

2/27 Cowntown Ultra

2010-03-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

(photo by D Lucas)

Tanisha and I signed up for Cowtown 50k.
Neither of us was up to a PR marathon this time of the year. A slower pace 50k was something to check off the list.

Goal:
1. keep Tanisha company
2. See how body reacts after mile 20--AKA the marathon half way point.

Plan:
Tanisha wanted to start with 10:00 pace and eventually finish in sub 6 hrs. I set my Garmin to 10:00 pace.
I brought 2 packs of Gu. I reasoned at this pace, carb would be a non-issue.

Training:
Runner’s World Smart Coach 7-week for 3.5-hr marathon. The long runs were approx 9:00 pace. Several sessions were skipped due to slippery road condition. It’s been an unusually cold Texas winter.

10:00 pace felt easy up to mile 15 or so. The course was a little hillier than I was accustomed to. The terrain broke speedy Seth, who slept under a tree around 13-mile mark waiting for his sister and me.

I never came close to run out of carb but got hungry around mile 18. The Sneaker Bar on the course was among tastiest foods I’ve consumed.

We changed the pace to 10:20 at mile 15 and lost more speed around mile 20. We started to take walking breaks. A few quarter-mile splits were slower than 11:30 pace. Seth would run way ahead of us and wai. The weather was nice; course reasonably marked; Biff showed up on a bike and kept us company. It was an enjoyable day. I should do more of these relaxing runs instead of GPS-geeking all the time.

Last 2 miles, Tanisha picked up the pace. I initially thought she was playing around, but she held low 8:00 pace regardless of grade. I didn’t anticipate to dig but decided to share the horse barn syndrome. We held that speed rest of the way and briefly dropped Seth on the last big hill.

24 hours after the race. Calves and quads weren’t bouncy. Feet hurt. Rest of the body felt great.
Went for a bike ride 7 days after the run. Unable to keep up with my usual pack. Feet still hurt.
Foot pain mostly went away after 3 weeks.

Shortly after the Cowtown, I talked to cousin Andy about running a 3.5-hour marathon in 2010, maybe at the same race.

Wheel sport started late this year. Quads lacked power on skates and bike as of late March.
I’m planning on a long run with Pegasus friends the week before Road Rash. If the run goes as planned, I will suck badly in Austin.

2009 White Rock Half Marathon

2010-01-09T13:07:00.000-08:00

2009 running goal was to complete Huntsville 50-mile trail race, which was canceled by economy. Paul Smith recommended “Runner’s World” Smart Coach: “you only need 17 weeks to train for a marathon.” Back spasm prevented the idea. I resorted to Plan C: running a 1:40 half marathon. 100-minute is a nice round number.

_Tools
14-week program: Thursday fast run, Sunday long run. I substitute most easy runs with cross training.
Garmin Forerunner 305 was indispensible.

_Race Plan
Set Garmin’s virtual partner to 7:36 pace. Ignore everything else. Stay within 300 feet of the electronic pacer for 6 miles than play by ear.

_Aggressive training
I was skeptical whether the training program was right for me. I seldom ran faster than 8:00 pace. The tempo runs and speedworks seemed more intense than calves could recover. “Give it a chance,” I kept telling myself.

My confidence bottomed 1 week prior to the race. It took legs longer to recover from the final 5x1600 than what seemed reasonable.
What did I expect with 14 weeks? Garmin freaked out that week for the first time. Without the battery-powered device, I couldn’t pace to save my life. The 100-minute goal felt fragile.

_Erratic Pacer
To my relief I saw the 1:40 pace balloon at the start. I decided to follow the human pacers. It was easier to follow the group moving at the same speed than fighting the crowd alone. It’s difficult to keep any constant speed at first mile of an event with 20000 runners.

To my dismay, the balloon started at 8:50 pace and picked up speed slowly. Around mile 3, the pacer started what felt like surges. Soon the group dwindled down to 5, including the 2 pacers. I struggled by mile 7. I was unprepared for sub 7:15 pace going toward the highest point of the course.

[dropped by 1:40 pace baloon]

_Support
Biff showed up at mile 8 as promised. He knew I was in trouble and set a more moderate tempo. My heart rate dropped below 90% as the pace balloon disappeared. By mile 10 I recovered enough that we gained on the 1:40 pace balloon.

[focusing on not losing Biff]

Biff left the course after 4 miles. Paul came out with his SLR and skates and kept me company throughout Katy Trail. It was helpful to have friend lying to my face about how good I looked. I hoped the hot spot at bottom of each foot wouldn’t blister. This oversized shoe theory wasn’t working out.

_Extra Distance
I thought I was home free when GPS said mile 11. I had 17 minutes to run 2.1 miles. Then I noticed the mile-11 marker; the GPS was 0.25 miles off. I panicked yet legs wouldn’t turn faster. I seemed to be the slowest person on the trail. I focused on staying with each passing runner with no success. “I’m so getting my ass kicked.”

[struggling while topless guy and really short girl passed me]

Paul continued to shout encouraging words. I recalled having too much left in 2007’s event and the sub 7:00 final mile. I reached the finish arch as legs refused to sprint. GPS says 13.35 miles in 1:40:00.45. Avg/max HR of 86 / 92%.

Official time is 1:39:54, exactly as Runner’s World program eerily predicted.

_Post Race
Except 1 calf cramp immediately after the race, walking hasn’t been an issue. This is a far cry from previous 3 running seasons. I want to believe I’m better conditioned; somehow I feel I could’ve gone a little harder.

2009 Houston Inline Marathon

2009-11-07T20:23:00.000-08:00

_Off Season Event
I focus on running after A2A. Tiffany warned years ago, “skating helps running; running doesn’t help skating.” My leg never felt recovered from A2A, despite plenty of time off skates. GPS and HR data said I was in better skating shape than I felt.
Thanks to weight control this time of the year, I was unlikely to do well in Tour de Donut (http://www.tourdedoughnut.com/), which was worth going only if I could make complete ass of myself safely and cheaply.
It’s wrong distance at wrong time, but I signed up for Houston IM. It’s a relatively local event of a sport I wanted to support. Mike and Brenda unexpected showed up, and we had 7 Texas Flyers in our own paceline. It was great being yelled at by Mike again.
Our agenda was to do our own pace. 7 is a big number at an event of this size.

_Sunday morning pace line
I don’t recall being this relaxed at the start. I had no personal ambition and was looking forward to skate with the team. With enough cooks in the kitchen, I turned my brain off and blindly followed the red-gold jerseys. With a very safe start, Mike dictated the pace; we ended up swallowed everyone except 5 or so racers; we spitted most of them out the back. Mike, Timo, and Casey did most of the work. Mackowski and I contributed a little.

12 U-turns allowed us to see the race develop. Simmons’ Rob and Alex controlled the lead. Brian from DC was allowed to hang as long as he shared the pulls. Brian was dropped during last lap.
Truesdell’s boots didn’t cooperate that morning. He still ended up with reasonable time. Grenda was a steady mover everyone wanted to skate with. It was good to see Sam in action again. You could see the little energy dot bouncing miles away.

_Race mode
Mike eased off the throttle at the back end of the final lap. I turned brain back on. 65-year-old Bob tried a breakaway at a weird time and was quickly neutralized; 2 Vegas teens wasted energy in the process and made slightly aggressive moves to cut back in. I let them—no need to risk crashing. Doug and I simply moved toward the front on safer part of the course. So nice to have teammates.
Final turn. Speed increased, no one committed. All the sudden someone attacked with insufficient acceleration. A few younger racers took off. The break died with a crash. I left my draft to avoid braking and pulled even with Mike. Mike said go. I didn’t have the legs to hold off everyone and ended up towing Casey and Red Confusion’s Brandon. I saw red/gold jerseys in the corner of my eyes. I eased into the finish arch safely, making sure Brandon stayed behind me.

_Cool down
I put on running shoes and did the scheduled 9:02-pace 9-mile run. It ended up longer and faster. Award ceremony with no hardware was a little disappointing.
Hiked 6.7-mile at Huntsville State Park in the afternoon; brought back memory from the ultra run last winter. The hike ended in full moon in the woods before Double Dave deep dish hitting the spot.

A2A 2009 38-mile race + 51-mile group skate

2009-10-13T22:14:00.000-07:00

After skating Ragbrai 2009, A2A called my name. My body wasn’t conditioned to go hard for 4+ hrs. I was uncomfortable on Atlanta’s rough flats without a Chuck. I signed up for 38-mile.

_Plan
The long hills and the number of skaters made time-based goal impractical. I sought ways to win the 38-mile race, which included Dillon and Chance Martin. They were among the top skaters of their generation and raced as teammates for Powerslide. I averaged 1 practice per week, usually short and unfocused.

The 38-mile winner seemed a foregone conclusion. I had nothing to lose--might as well go down in flames. I’d skate with the lead pack for a few miles then play by ear. It’s always fun to watch pros. I lasted 6 miles in 2007; would try farther this time. With luck, a small group would peel off for me to work with. Who knows, the boy wonders could have a bad day. Their sponsor didn’t have the best wet-wheels.

_Climber and RAAM soloist
The shuttle from the airport to Athens was filled with skaters. Herb introduced us to Marcy the climb demon. She made effort to look modest. I don’t recall anyone else radiating this much confidence at A2A.

I sat next to John Silker, who completed RAAM before aerobars became popular. I was awe-struck and full of questions. The math teacher graciously shared personal details: body fat, donuts, lubrication. Ultra athletes are often people who see the destination as a mean to the journey.

_The poser
Race morning, I lined up next to the giant poker costume. I was pumped with nervous energy and doubts. Did I run too much, lose weight too quickly, skate enough hills, choose the right wheels?
I felt each pulse. I love racing.

I settled into 22nd position. The lead skater looked tiny; the Martin brothers were pushing the pace. Luis Carlos and Eddy popped out of the line a lot, minimizing the chance of being taken down by their fans posing as speed skaters.
Carl Yee towered couple spots in front of me. No wonder Ragbrai cyclists thought the skater shrank in size. I wanted to chat with Carl but decided to concentrate on task at hand. Eddy was near the tall guy when interviewed by the camera crew on motorcycle. I watch Eddy not breathing hard as my heart rate slowly redlined. The peloton spitted me out at mile 12.

_Strong chasers
Like 2007, John Charbonneau was there to pick me up. This time he came much quicker with Marcy, Jessica, and Lenny. I couldn’t hang on. I wished I knew K2/Asphalt Beach and Bont’s plan before the start.

2 Flying Fossils materialized a few minutes later. “Welcome to the 3rd pack!” Yeah, everyone knew exactly where they stood. They took me in and were easy to work with. We stayed together ‘til Dacula. My Street Fights rolled slower than the other the 2 wheelsets, but aerodynamics negated the disadvantage. John Garrett and Larry Griffin reached Piedmont Park in 5:44 with modest pack mass.

Race #’s
Distance: 38.5 miles
Avg HR: 170 bpm
Max HR: 185 bpm
Avg speed: 16.2 mph
Max speed: 41.1 mph
Total Ascent: 3359 ft
Total Descent: 2931 ft
Liquid consumed: 15 oz
Traffic stops: 0

My teammate Duane skipped another A2A this year. He waited at Dacula with Mrs. Duane. We watched a non-jean wearing Naomi skated by. She looked beautiful in skinsuit on 100-mm wheels. Casey came in a few minutes later wearing his I-survived-my-first-A2A smile. APRR Chuck greeted me. He didn’t race due to injury. We discussed future event pretending not to trash talk.

_Cheap out the $10 bus ride
The Dacula-to-Atlanta bus would be a long wait. No rain in sight. Skating to Atlanta seemed logical.

Wondergirl was supporting 3 racers and checkpoint hopping; she informed me of Luke’s progress. I wanted to skate with my Montreal-24 buddy who helped me during a difficult hour.

I rolled slowly and barely had time to sort out nutrition in a Walmart bag before Luke’s group showed up. We moved cooperatively and waited for each other. Herb took a short break from dominating the 52-mile race by joining us. The top 2 52-mile ladies stayed in the pack a little longer.

_40.0 mph
Someone whined as Silver Hill approached. The pack agreed the downhill train was optional; we would regroup at the checkpoint. I took the lead. The long descent felt slow. I look between legs and discovered Luke was the only passenger; should’ve sprinted at the top….

_I went to the hill. The hill was there.
My legs turned jello on the climb after checkpoint 5. Déjà vu. I resorted to hip swing and choppy strides, the technique I learned from French skaters. Probably looked comical, but the quads didn’t melt.

_City skate
Atlanta traffic grew hairier, and road hazards multiplied each time I skated it. The stop-and-goes took out everyone’s desire to fly. John Silker stayed at the back behind a big gap. The football-player’s 200-lb frame was getting minimum draft and was chucking along. He seemed to have enough in the tank to skate back to Athens. I fantasized breaking his 24-hour record (http://www.skatelog.com/skaters/john-silker/)

We reached the feared rough flat where Herb and Bob dropped me last year. The road was paved with black ice now.

_Quick stop
The group decided to finish together after jumping the curb at the restaurants. 2 skaters started to orchestrate hand-holding details. Bob Ryan was all by himself in front when he wobbled for no good reason. The helmet banged against a little tree; branches shook. Ambulance wasn’t in the script but was all the sudden a very real possibility. Things were going so well 5 seconds ago. Fortunately he got up and recovered quickly. 8 of us reached Piedmont Park, hand-in-hand.

_Results
Martin brothers took the top 2 spots in 38-mile.
Herb won 52-mile. He time trialed the whole way.

Luis Carlos was the top full-distance man in 2009.
Eddy repeated top-3 performance.

Marcy lived up to expectation and took the title.
Jessica came in a minute later.
Naomi got 3rd, demonstrating it’s possible to master 2 very different wheel sizes. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cS-blZ8jb_Q&NR=1)

I beat the Dacula-Atlanta bus to the park.

Dacula to Atlanta #’s (with missing distance due to GPS issue)
Distance: 49.6 miles
Avg HR: 139 bpm
Max HR: 165 bpm
Avg speed: 13.4 mph
Max speed: 40.0 mph
Total Ascent: 5023 ft
Total Descent: 4980 ft
Liquid consumed: 80 oz
Traffic stops: 12+ minutes
Water break: 1

Bob handed me a cold Guinness at the park. Beer earned is sweeter than beer bought.

Hotter n Hell 2009: 102 miles; avg 20.7 mph

2009-09-01T22:43:00.000-07:00

_Unprepared
It’s been an unfocused year with no long distance training. I considered 3 options:
> Skate 50 miles.
> Bike time trial 100k at 18 mph.
> 100 mile ride at 20+ mph.
I was unmotivated to train.
Timo announced his 25-mile skate pace line plan. I was in. It’d be fun. I was looking forward to the shopping and the group lunch.
Then yoga-related back spasm happened => skating was out of question.
I decided on the “normal way” of participating HHH: road bike, padded shorts, suck wheels. Sciatica could be an issue; sag wagons are abundant for this event.

_Equipment
I put the nice wheels on Madone that had been on trainer the whole year. I was unsuccessful setting up the new iBike Aero 3 on the wired mount and settled on the defective Aero 2 just for distance and cadence reading. I also used the reliable Garmin Forerunner 305 for heart rate and pacing.

My cycling electronic life is frustrating at times, but it’s so cool to have the data on the 22” screen after shower while the ride details are fresh memory. This is the only way I can quantify the energy saved by taking the pace line risk.

_Expo
The 10000-cyclist event is my biggest annual apparel shopping day. Major bike stores dump excess inventory at the expo.
The fight at clearance shoe table was intense. I got the exact shoes and shorts I wanted at half price. I imagine this is how women buy LV and Gucci when discount is involved.

eSoles scanned people’s feet at their booth. The charismatic sales girl knew a lot about running and nothing about skating. She fit David Goggin! $50 gets me a scan + semi-custom orthotics. I was suspicious about the benefit but desperate enough to write it off as part of my medical budget.

I complained to the Polar rep: their power meter is an outdated piece of crap. He waited for the booth to clear before agreeing. Finland’s clear direction is to ignore that market. He shared the desire for GPS/HR/power integration.

_Cooler than Hell
The ride didn’t live up to its name having the most favorable weather in years. 1 guy from Florida was sorely disappointed.

I didn’t train for a 100-mile ride but the event went more or less as planned:
Step 1: say hi to skaters at very end of the line.
Step 2: go to the front and look for triathletes for pacing and drafting.
I spotted bunch fit guys with nice aero-bikes and practice wheels.
“You guys Ironmen?”
“Yep”
“How fast are you going.”
“Around 20”
“Mind if I suck your wheel.”
“No problem.”
Step 3: control the urge to go harder; no passing anyone while outside of slipstream.
Step 4: hang on to the pack and avoid crashes.
Step 5: survive.

The slow blocks before start line are always frustrating: skateboarding style.
After funneling through the start line, 40 miles of wheel sucking began. These guys train together year round and didn’t want me in front.
Mile 20: butt became uncomfortable on the rough surface. Everyone’s speed dropped. I recall sprinting this surface at 11 mph on skates at 90% HR. I was nuts.

The group stopped at mile 28 for a pee break. We spread out to spread while hundreds of cyclists rolled behind us. It’s great to be a guy.

Heart rate started to rise around mile 35. I thought it was the temperature. The Ironmen increased the wattage in anticipation for the long break at mile-40 rest stop.

I hid in a long and slower pace lines and recovered. Other than the well buttered butt, I felt great at mile 50 and considered dumping 10 oz of Accelerade. I correctly chose to carry the annoying disposable bottle for next few miles.

People dropped out of pace lines like flies. By mile 60, even the solo cyclists on aero bars became inconsistent. I got in a small pace line and finally had to work. Confidence soared by mile 80: legs turning, HR in range, 24 oz of fluid in cage. I debated about the beer stop at mile 98.

Mile 82: Quads became unwilling at each little climbs. This was initially resolved by smaller gears. I started to lose the pack at 103 rpm. One old guy repeatedly waited and paced me back into the pack. “Just 18 miles to go. You ain’t gonna get a better day for a personal record.”
I was touched.
I struggled.

Mile 88: melt down. I tried to take a final pull but couldn’t even get to the front.
I felt dejected yet proud for going this far--a lot like 2008 A2A when Herb Gail left me in the dust.
I limped to the mostly empty mile-91 rest stop for bathroom and annual pickle juice tasting.

Leg power returned only briefly. I rode many segments at 13 mph during the final 10 miles. I skated faster on the same road.

Finished with 4:54. Felt a lot longer.

Alaska family vacation

2009-08-20T21:24:00.000-07:00

Alaska cruise was on my post 60 to-do list. With Al Gore’s warning about disappearing ice and mom’s desiring the cruise experience, I joined the 7-night 9-person family vacation

Anchorage

Flew to the big state’s largest city.

The sun moved eerily slowly at 8pm.

I successfully woke up at 5am for a morning skate. The roads were of similar smoothness, and drivers were as accepting to skaters as in North Texas. The local law enforcement didn’t stop me but made it clear I should limit my major road exposure.

Anchorage had surprisingly nice bike paths, considering the long winter.

A moose and I scared each other at a wooden bridge.

University of Alaska was another good place to skate.

I got limited mileage due to rain and train schedule.

Alaska Railroad: Anchorage -> Whittier
There are cheaper and faster alternatives to reach the ship, but the AKRR train is so relaxing and pretty.

Whittier

The Harbor was designed for tourism—Alaskans drive to the town for a boating trip;

tourists came from all over the world for cruise ships.

The tiny town has 2 distinct sections: I skated through the tunnel to the non-tourist side, where bottled water price was actually reasonable.

Saw multiple lots with vehicle in need of repair.

Many buildings weren’t in the best shape.

Residents and road surfaces got increasingly unfriendly as I ventured further from the tunnel.

One truck driver actually stopped to stare me down. That was my cue to get back to where I belong.

Alcohol supply was controlled by 1 guy. The liquor store had completely random hours.

2 sea days

Surprised by the view when I woke up.

These were my most relaxing days: Slow meals, long night sleep, short workouts.
The endless pool broke (http://www.endlesspools.com/). I learned to run on treadmill and didn’t fall off.

First whale watching attempt was plagued by fog, which—according to the woman driver from bridge—could clear any minute now. This went on for couple hours.

I eventually saw a black dot with a blowhole and caught glimpse of a triangular thing; my camera stayed in Ziploc. I didn’t care; it was nice in the hot tub on deck.

The Glacier Bay (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glacier_Bay_National_Park) more than made up for the mammal disappointment.

Skagway

Skating was an efficient way to see every street in town, which has cheap Internet access ($1.25/15 min) through slow computers.

The paved road to the Canadian border was accessible on the other side of Skagway River.

I decided to play it safe and not to skate it. During the Gold rush days, many horses ran out of juice climbing these mountains; a trail was named after them (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Pass).

Skagway had the best-equipped Radio Shack I’d seen. I learned later it wasn’t a real Radio Shack. The store sign had a fine print: something like “authorized store.” Ditto Starbucks.
I was one of the faster moving vehicles downtown hurrying back to catch the excursion motor coach.

I had no talent kayaking, but the surround was so beautiful I enjoyed it immensely.

Hopped on the train (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Pass_and_Yukon_Route) to get back to the dock. The legendary terrains made me feel for those horses.

I promised mom to get back to the ship in time for our excursion. A passenger had a medical issue; the train stopped to wait for medevac.

The conductor laughed when I asked whether there’s a road for me to run back to town.
“Which part of the Dead Horse Trail don’t you understand?”

There was nothing to do except sitting in the penalty box as the seconds ticked by.

The cycling excursion group waited for me. This was the best day! The guide drove us up the road I wanted skate that morning.
Weather was pretty miserable 2000 feet above sea level: foggy, cold, windy; we were in the clouds.

The 13-mile ride back to town was a new experience. We stopped for waterfalls, the climbs, and U. S. custom.

Tourists on bicycles with runny nose seemed sufficiently harmless; the officials didn’t check our passports.

It was gratifying and scary to see mom bombing down the hills.

In a few weeks, the whole town would smell like dead salmons.

Juneau

Stayed on the ship in the morning. Didn’t want to risk missing the excursion. The security personnel informed me that the on-board Danish would become insecure on the other side of the gangway. I ate the brunch at the X-ray machine Kobayashi style.

The helicopter ride didn’t disappoint, despite my crappy seat.

I was dropped off on a giant ice cube (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juneau_Icefield) with my cousin Andy and 2 European dudes.

We acquired super power via crampons that enabled climbing and drinking.

Some spots were a little tight.

I couldn’t get over blueness of the ice.

Had limited time before the ship sailed. I briefly stood in line for the free Internet at city library before walking out

to take photos of Sarah Palin’s green roof house

the state capitol, allegedly voted the ugliest ahead of 49 competitors.

Napped before another big dinner. Lobsters and prawns were excellent recovery food. While mom and aunts supplemented their 401k at the casino,

I went up to the deck reviewing photos. It was one of my favorite moments.

Ketchikan

I postponed the excursion to skate in the morning while the weather was nice. No way I could climb these hills on wet pavement.

It turned out I couldn’t handle them when dry.
I had problem T-stopping on Ketchikan’s 2nd steepest road

and resorted to the Eddy technique (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGeef6563xw).

The trip coincided with salmon runs. Now I understand how bears are able to hand-fish.

Snorkeled was the last excursion. The effort of putting on 7mm suit and other hassles made it inefficient fun.
Swimming next to jellyfish was neat. With wetsuit, gloves, hood and boots, I was safe as long as we didn’t go to first base.

Fancy dinner was routine now. Mushroom soup sucked. King crab legs rocked.

The sunset was nice that night.

Sea day

Got up way too early to watch more invisible whales.
Finally saw a few humpbacks around 3 pm. Distant body parts were above the water. I didn’t bother the camera.

Attempted but gave up on reading the kong fu novel. There ain’t no way I could finish before the library due day.

Ran on treadmill and discovered the speed setting was a mere suggestion; my intervals weren’t nearly as studly as I previously thought.

I was completely spoiled by this time. I didn’t finish the slightly dry NY strip. I suddenly craved bacon.

I used up the undependable prepaid Internet minutes, had my final desserts with decaf from buffet line.

Watched "Air Guitar Nation." The movie was so much fun, I went to bed late.

Vancouver

Disembarkation was an unpleasant long process after insufficient sleep.

Typical of city people, my cousins and I went to Blenz Coffee for wifi and fancy drinks instead of going to Chinatown with others. Being a total geek, I spilled my cappuccino while troubleshooting the store’s wireless router. We quickly decided on the day’s activities:
> Lookout Tower (http://www.vancouverlookout.com/): a quick and lazy way to see the city.

> aquarium: we’re tired of all the underwhelming marine mammals sightings. The baby beluga whale was way cute (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXBzGf54-Ik)

> poutine (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poutine): I’ve wanted this thing since the Montreal trip 11 months ago

> Tim Horton: a Canadian friend would eat any donut except Tim Horton. Curiosity got to me.

After ingesting grease and sugar, I had enough energy for a Stanley Park skate.

Vancouver is a great inline city: lots of bike lane in the middle of major streets, cars move relatively slowly.

I made a wrong turn and ended up on the wrong side of the town.

I got a good workout skating to and around Stanley Park.

The only other pair of speed skates I saw was Ming from South Korea wearing Toronto skinsuit.

Encountered traffic jams on the way back. Sidewalks were full of tourists and zombie walkers (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zombie_walk). Fortunately the Garmin worked well amongst high-rises. I skated eerily clean back allies and arrived hotel in time for a nice dinner at a Shanghai restaurant with mom. Ordered takeout food for next day.

Got up early to skate the suburbs and beaches.

Hills were involved.

Heat up left over for lunch with family. I love nice hotels with kitchens (http://www.suttonplace.com).

Met some RSVP riders (bike Seattle to Montreal. http://www.cascade.org/eandr/rsvp/index.cfm) at the hotel. Looks like a fun event.

The taxi to airport was pleasant. The lines at the airport were not. Many questioned the city’s ability to handle 2010 Olympics crowd.

more photos

Achorage has cool street names.

Not everyone was anxious to get off the train.

Lunch break against a Whittier wall.

A government building.

This girl demonstrated excellent sense of humor by laughing at my jokes.

Some people were pretty serious about projecting images of whale body parts onto their retinas.

This was a routine view the first few days.

Johns Hopkins. They named this one after my school.

Skagway, opposite the airport.

Not all hotels at Skagway were 5-star.

Saw lots of benches at front yards. Never saw a human using them.

RV parking is $800 / month during the summer, exclude electricity and waters.

I expected roofs would be much steeper.

Went to a different country just to kayak.

Andy the artist knew how to pose for facebook.

This mesquito came all the way to 1500 feet to drown.

The babysitter prepared us tourists for the viewing of the giant hole.

Juno made it clear that tourism income was welcome.

Made me want to fly.

A very pricey Internet cafe in Juno.

I burnt lots of calories in order to get this shot.

Skating behind these guys were a great way to tour the city.

Desserts were nice transition between dinner and the meal before bed.

Roads with bike lanes were clearly marked.

Vancouver has lots of parks along the water.

I was the calmer of the 2.

Ragbrai 2009, skate across Iowa

2009-08-01T16:00:00.000-07:00

Biking across Iowa was added to the to-do list during my limping year, and I’ve been lazy to deal with logistics. A team spot came up for Ragbrai 2009 (ragbrai.com) through a co-worker. All I had to do was showing up with bike and sleeping bag; I jumped at the chance.

Minimum research suggested the event could be 100-mm-wheel-friendly; I decided to skate instead. I would SAG the unskateable sections and drink beers when needing a recovery day. I wasn’t sure how my body would handle multi-day efforts.

2009 route
Mileage: 52.6 miles Climb: 3,684 feet
Mileage: 72.6 miles Climb: 5,096 feet
Mileage: 77.1 miles Climb: 4,470 feet
Mileage: 44.4 miles Climb: 2,182 feet
Mileage: 76.9 miles Climb: 3,388 feet + 27 optional miles to make a century day
Mileage: 75.5 miles Climb: 2,841 feet
Mileage: 43.2 miles Climb: 1,145 feet

_Alternative vehicles
Most of the 10000 participants were on upright road bike.
There was large number of recumbents.

The youngest solo cyclists I saw was a 4-year–old who had no problem climbing.

Saw 2 unicycles. Watching these guys going down the hills was humbling.

I saw 1 guy running on day 3 at 8:30 pace at mile 50. Watching him made me want to run on next wet day.
Rumor had it a girl was running the entire route. Her sighting was not reported after day 4.

_Closet skaters and other encounters
I was disappointed that I didn’t see other skaters.
Many cyclists came up to me and shared their skate stories. Some were former roller speed skaters that quit the sport before 100 mm wheels.

One of the RV mates was Jack Sutton, who owned 3 skating rinks and had stories.

Talked Star Trek with a dancer on scholarship who found dancing career too rocky and decided to go to med school instead.

An Olympic training center resident came to me and requested double push. I hope to see him in Vancouver 2010.

Drafted behind the founder of Tour de Donut. He had to eat only 15 to win his age group.

_”Iowa is flat as pancake”
Not this year.

This hill was a female dog at end of 77.1-mile day.

_Nutrition
Speed was non-critical. I tested how random diets affect my performance. Sure enough, legs didn’t respond well after port chops.

Daily intake included Clif bar, Clif Shot, Accelerade, Craisins, dehydrated fruits, vitamin pills.

Fast food was hard to come by on the routes. Wendy’s at end of the 104-mile was a rare treat—big calorie count for $10 + unlimited usage of flushing toilets.

Ate fried food when available. I tried to ingest 3000 calories/day for 9 days. Lost about 1 lb over all.

_Pace
Plan: take first 2 days easy to gauge how the body reacts; keep HR under 80% max.

The weather and surface were gorgeous on day 1, I went nuts chasing pace lines before a bike racer from Netherlands volunteered to tow me. We passed everybody. It was glorious.
My legs were fried after chasing Dutch; I was unable to bring HR over 85% for next 6 days.

_FAQ from cyclists
How many sets of wheels do you go through a day? (same wheels for all 7 days)
How do you go down the hills? (stay in bike’s draft)
How do you go up the hills? (I’ll race you up next one; you’ll see)
How do you stop? (grind the wheels if I can’t find a bike to help me)
Are you doing the whole thing? (so far so good)
Are you crazy? (isn’t it great?)
How much are your skates? (a lot cheaper than bikes, I paid $200 for the rec skates)
Where’s your bike? (Lance borrowed it for the tour. where are your skates?)
Isn’t that really hard? (easier than bike: no gear, no flat, no sore butt)

_Camping life of a skater
Each morning:
down a Clif bar
apply sunblock
roll the sleeping bag and thermo pad
get in queue for washroom
pack things into the big bag to put in RV
take down the wet tent.
The process always takes longer than it should.

When cell tower in sight, we often stopped to make phone calls.

Most days I made a point to spend time visiting the towns. I rarely checked the clock but tried to finish the skate at decent hour to dry the tent. On wet days, I needed to prepare bearings for next day.

Nightly ritual:
Look for team vehicles based on bulletin board direction.
Pitch tent.
Find shower.
Try to dry stuff.
Find food.
BS with some of my 10000 best friends over drinks.
Learn next day’s road and weather.
Make mostly futile attempt to talk on cell phone.
Charge electronics as opportunities arise: phone, GPS, iPod, camera
Organize nutrition and equipment for next day.
Place a Clif bar next to the pillow.

_Unpredictables
Weather:
I got wet 3 of the days and lost some bearings. Climbing up some of wet surfaces was a little challenging. I experienced doubt when having to stop at bottom of a hill in rain and considered butt stop; fortunately T stop was sufficient.

Road surface:
Decent by north Texas standard. I was rolling at 10+ mph even on the rougher sections.
Day 7 was particularly nice: a lot of black ice. With tail wind, I averaged 20+ mph with very low HR.

Draft/pacer:
Vast majority of cyclists were eager to provide draft. I went down lots of hills at 30+ mph in slipstreams. Only 1 cyclist randomly braked and left a tire mark on my right shin.
I was in the draft usually behind 1 steady bike. During a particular harsh head wind section on day 6, I hid inside of a peloton.

Rumble strips:
These things are the width of almost the entire lane. I didn’t think they’re skateable but survived rolling over them twice at 13 and 18 mph. Short legs have their advantages.

_Crashes
The first crash happened 10’ in front of the RV during a failed spin stop carrying too many things. My team was very understanding ‘til they realized I spilled the beer.

The other crash happened while racing a bike up Snake Alley (think San Francisco’s Lombard Street but with gaps between bricks). I lost that race.

Both crashes happened at < 5 mph.

_Support
A participant sacrifices a riding day to drive each team truck/bus/van to the next town with everyone’s tents and bags. Each team is allowed up to 3 motor vehicles. Many teams had buses.

_Moving cash cow
Assuming each participant spends $25 / day on food + liquid, that’s $250000 daily. The event travels through many towns with residents less than the participants. I felt like a locust moving with the swarm.

Vendors were set up at each town and between stops. Many traveled with the event through out the week.

A bottle of water went between $0.50 and $2.50, based on weather and location.

There were always lines for pork chops and smoked turkey legs.

Strategically placed ice cream trucks on a hot days were popular.
Mechanics at portable bike shops never seemed to stop working. Many cyclists bought smaller chain rings after day 1 no longer believing Iowa was flat.

The official vendors included a group of masseuse and a chiropractor.

_Missed photo ops
The tradition is to dip the rear wheel in Missouri River and front wheel in Mississippi.
To simplify the departing process, the organizer pumped Missouri water to the road on day 1.
6 days later, I handed my camera to a blond volunteer for a picture of my dipping skate wheels in Mississippi.

_#’s
Blisters: 3; 1 from rec skates, 2 from custom Simmons
Injury inducing crashes: 0
$ for food and drink: $200
Daily shower cost: $5 + $1 towel rental
Wet tents mornings: 6
Wet bearing days: 3
Bearings killed by rain: 13
Amount of time in draft: > 60%
Max speed: 42 mph
Distance skated: 470 miles

obligatory tourist shot

bike allegedly ridden by Lance

Saw a few of these on the route

Corn in the Garden

Finish line of day 1

This is how I found team vehicle.

This boy categorically denied of any girl-liking activities.

2 cyclists inquired about the bulls in question

Farming machinery for parking

Police vehicle not seen in NYC

I wasn't the only camping idiot. Dr. Jeff had to move his tent to slightly higher ground at 3am.

Random water hole at mile 30 of the easy day.

event parking

Of course.

They wouldn't let me get on it with skates.

The cyclist was a bit overwhelmed by the attention and the traffic jam she created.

View from my tent. Monday.

spectators

Smelled lots of them, but these are the only ones visible from the road.

Modern art.

Amish store

Mississippi

a cyclist modeled for my post-event recovery tenderloin

boat ramp full of dippers

end of a great week.

Texas Road Rash 2009

2009-04-23T21:10:00.000-07:00

Texas Road Rash 2009

_Plan A: 200-mile Roll
Danny Dannels asked if I wanted to skate from Dallas to the start. All I had to do was show up and skate, assuming decent weather. I had the option to jump into the SAG wagon with the first drop of rain. Sounded like fun.

_Change of Plan
Couple months later, Danny’s more concrete plan involves a rain-or-shine Guinness world record. He’d enter the event as drafting if I committed. Rough road, rain, darkness—I handle up to 2 of these 3 conditions. I backed out.
The weather didn’t cooperate. Danny had to skating between storms and was behind schedule. Everyone was relieved when he finally showed up Sunday morning.

_Saturday. Elimination
The new and smaller course this year. I enviously watched the turn-enabled competitors while I struggled to regain momentum after each corner. I was pulled off the course before the final lap. It was cool watching the heart rate spike on HRM.

For pro women, Candy took Renee at the line.

Morgan won master. Alex Fedak took third.

Rob Bell forgot the last-wheel rule and became the first pro skater pulled off the course.
It was exciting to see the winning monster hawks by the young faces.

_Prerace Jitter
Timo was concerned about keeping up with the big boys. Duane convinced him of its unlikelihood over red wine and Italian dishes. I was relaxed, fat, and happy. My only goal was to finish safely.

Met Houston Bill again. He’s taller than I remembered from 2007 Houston. I need bigger wheels.

Alex thought about hitting the weight room before next day's marathon.

_Sunday. Main Event (what happens when an advanced man tries to race with the masters)
I changed my division from open to pro master when I learned of the wave start.
I don’t belong in this even on my best day, but it’d be a new experience; I had no personal ambition and had little to lose. I asked Duane, who started 3 minutes behind pro wave, to be ready to pick me up.

I started at the back of wave, which quickly stretched into little clusters. I had to choose between the pro women and Bob Clair. No-brainer based on front surface area. The women pulled away, including Bont’s almost-matching demo boots. Bob proved his beating me at A2A was no accident. He skated off my wheels after I reached max heart rate. I hanged with next pack in red zone. I tried to fulfill the 1-pull-minimum obligation before dropping out. The guy behind me wasn’t happy with the speed. “Do you have some issue?” “Nope. Just not that strong.”

I waited for the open division. I jumped into the lead pack and recovered.
We worked well for couple laps. It was uneventful except one badly timed attack that everyone ignored.

_Man of the hour
We were briefly confused by the flashing motorcycle. Jorge Botero passed us all by himself. It’s one of those humbling moments everyone stops talking and reflects.

In the midst of excitement, I didn’t notice the feared wind.

_Missed photo op
I started to fade at end of the 4th lap and decided to take my final pull into the start area hoping for a good race photo. Pro lead pack lapped us where the cameras were. Sigh.

The 2 packs merged. I didn’t like the slinky and knew Duane and Casey weren’t that far back. I waited for my teammates. I hadn’t had a good skate with Duane in ages. 3 of us caught the group broken by the lead pro paceline. Casey looked strong. We urged him to bridge. Casey stayed in that paceline and won the sprint.

Timo had a good race and established himself as pro master speed skater.
He was behind famed Debbie Rice and narrowly avoided the crash that took her down.
Debbie won the race with a broken arm.
Alex (the abs) and Rob (carbon wedding band) continued to represent Simmons well.
Duane and Casey both won their age groups.

_Post Race
A much faster guy came and patted my back for my weak early pull. Such gracious gesture. He didn’t point out I actually slowed the group down.

It was unadapted to the 3x110 + 100. Need bigger legs, or at least better timing.

Spent a pleasant afternoon at Lake Austin: good coffee, great company. Ate a big dinner with friends before the 3-hour drive back home. Another good year at TRR.

Woke up Monday morning with elevated waking heart rate and sore body. It felt good.

Huntsville 50-mile Trail Run. 12/6/2008. DNF

2008-12-13T21:17:00.000-08:00

My wheel season ended in fall. I squeezed in the December “D” race as annual run fitness indicator; the long-term goal is Badwater in 2015. Huntsville 50k trail run is a low-cost way to taste trail ultra.

_Bigger Bite than I could Chew
I changed the distance when writing the registration check. 50-mile and 50k were the same price. 50-mile is a 4-lap event. I could bail at 12.5-mile increment without having to call a cab. President Bush taught me the importance of exit strategies.

At packet pick up, it was easy to differentiate between the “slightly ultra” vs. the “almost double” runners. The 50-milers radiate special vibe. I realized I could be in over my head this time. I stuck with the distance: this was a learning experience; finding out the breaking point was more valuable than getting a finisher’s jacket. I re-promised myself: no crazy chances; quitting is an option.

_Technology Conspiracy
Google Map betrayed. The hotel was nowhere near the dot on the satellite map.

I decided not to bother with HRM due to lack of sweat at low temperature.

I left the GPS in the car overnight; the battery drained within minutes of powering up. The manual weren’t kidding about the unit’s operating temperature.

The iPod headphone developed contact issue at the start.

_Pace Planning
Plan A:
Walk at 15:00/mile pace the first lap then decide what to do for the other 3 laps. Shoot for 11-hour finish. Foot pain scrapped this idea after multiple walk trials.

Plan B:
Hold 12:00 pace. 1 hr cushion for breaks and walks. Researches on trail running showed that constant pace was unrealistic.

Plan C:
10 min (20:00 pace) walk + 20 min (11:00 pace) run the first 2 laps (5:30). This plan relied on a working GPS.

Impromptu Human Pacer
I walked to back of the 182-runner start and shamelessly asked for everyone’s marathon time and projected 50-mile time. I settled on Sharon’s 3:50 marathon time and 10 hr projected time and asked her to be my pacer.

_The Course
First 1/3 of the 12.5-mile course included a long section of soft-pack dirt with turnaround at top of the hill. Energy bled with each step, but I felt good about my chance to finish. Next 1/3 had everything: dirt packed hard by motored vehicle, gravels, and narrow path, lots of elevation changes. Last 3rd was mostly dirt trails with obstacles: tree roots, debris, and branches.

_The Long Run
I started out chatting with Sharon side by side. Like many runners that morning, she’s from Colorado; running was center of her daily life. Soon I ran behind her when trail narrowed. There were some branches in the way. She went around them while I jumped over. Our feet collided in mid air; we both fail. Not a good start. Following so close was a rookie mistake.

We saw the leaders coming down the soft pack dirt with urgency of someone in need of bathroom. They reminded me of characters in Japanese samurai films. I wondered how they could sustain the effort for another 45 miles.

Sharon asked me if I was eating. “A little.” “Area you drinking?” “Couple oz per rest stop.” “You need to eat and drink!” She seemed horrified. I explained I needed little fluid at the temperature and little carbohydrate at the heart rate. Wasn’t a convincing argument with a dead GPS and no HRM. “Energy and cardio aren’t my problem. I’m not much of a runner. I'm a speed skater.” She looked puzzled. “I'm like Apolo Ohno, minus the talent and sex appeal.” That she understood but was skeptical as I ran noisily kicking branches and roots.

I had a tough time with road surface and kept rolling the ankle. Downhill was toughest. Breaking took a lot out of my shins. I was untrained for this. I started walking and wait for a slower pacer. I finished the first 12.5-mile loop in 2:35, a reasonable start.

Lap 2 was similar. I was overly optimistic on soft-pack dirt then lost confidence tripping over stuff during the landmine sections. The theoretical 20-mile wall went by unnoticed while I focused on my footing. Lap time = 2:45.

Lap 3. Fatigue set in. It felt like last miles of a marathon except I had 20 miles to go. I walked the soft-pack dirt hill thinking all was lost. I caught one of the samurais who lapped me earlier. The guy wore #1 and looked spent. "This is hard," I whined. "It's supposed to be hard." The 2005 winner smiled as he hobbled away.

_Swallow a DNF
3 miles before the 3rd lap finish. Of the 50-milers around me, making the 8.5-hour cutoff became the focal point of our lives. We had 29 minutes.

I weighed my options: my weakened quads should have enough for 15.5 miles. I felt shin splint developing but could ignore it. I was still tripping over debris, rocks, branches, and roots. Could I handle this section in the dark? The goal was getting one step closer to Badwater. Running on uneven surface half blind wasn’t part of the deal. This wasn’t worth the wrist injury.

The fight went out of me at the moment of the decision. All the sudden I couldn’t handle 20:00 pace. Runners passing me both directions urge me to beat the clock. I thanked and congratulated them. I took off my headphone and heard the silence and appreciated the woods for the first time. I was so lucky to be here.

_Post Race
2 chocolate shakes, 3 hotdogs, 1 cheeseburger, and a grill chicken breast later, long drive home. The gravity of my race started to sink in. My longest run to date on a certified course on surface I supposedly couldn’t handle. Shin splint and sore quads. I got away with another one.

Monday. The chiropractor assessed the damage and suggested taping for my next trail run. I was surprised how well my lower back held up. “Don’t question it,” he recommended while cracking my neck. I had little negative thoughts about my body at that moment. The glorious sushi buffet from previous night was a great way to start my 2.75-month off-season. No weight watching, no races, no scheduled trainings. My near future will be full of fun workouts, tasty food, and couch potatoing.

I can’t wait for 2009 season.

A2A 55-mile -- Sunday morning fun skate went out of control

2008-10-25T20:43:00.000-07:00

The Texas Flyers had planned to send a team to 2005 A2A [which was canceled that year --roadskater]. I wanted to participate in the worst way. I was too weak to skate at the time and started to ask skaters to go to A2A. “Don’t wait ‘til you’re ready. Go while the event exists.”

2008

I wasn’t recovered from Montreal. A2A was still the one event I wanted to support, and it lacked bodies. I signed up for 52-mile race that I never skated. It’d be a fun skate. I’d skate Silver Hill again!

8 days before A2A I narrowly avoided a bike crash at a cycling time trial. I came in near last after getting lost on the simple loop course. The goals for 2008 A2A:

no crash
stay on course

Favorites

52-mile skaters seemed relaxed before the start. All eyes were on Herb Gayle. Herb kept whining about weight and climbs.

Bob Clare from Virginia asked me about Texas Flyers and talked about the year Mike Harris won 38. I wasn’t aware there was a following on short distances. Bob was determined to do well this year. I vaguely recall he skated away from me at last mile of 2007 38-mile race.

Team Red Confusion from Birmingham was well represented. The young guns seemed fast. The question was whether they could stay fast for 3 hours. Most of them looked light and immune to gravity.

Several APRR skin suits were in the mix. Rumor had it a Chuck had his eyes on the 52-mile trophy. They all looked like Chucks at the start. Knowing the route was a huge advantage.

Inexact Start

The little lead motorcycle took off; one Chuck followed slowly. We had a long pace line going 11 mph for a few minutes. Next thing I knew I was in a small pack of mostly Birmingham skaters pushing each other down the hill at 29 mph. Not what I had in mind but had go with the flow. My strategy was to stay close to lead motorcycle so I wouldn’t skate off the course. I’d back off where 52 and 87-mile courses merged.

Shortly after the loop, the lead vehicle stopped to block traffic. I followed the 3 lead guys into the wrong turn. We ran on grass and dirt while their teammates waited. I was determined not to skate off the course again.

Cat-1 Racer

Herb showed up. He was re-lacing when the race started unexpectedly. He kept pushing the pace. My heart rate hovered around 91%. Eric Gee warned me about this. I decided to hang on ‘til my legs fail. I heard so much about Herb’s superpower I wanted to see it first-hand. My HRM started to beep 56 minutes into the race. The alarm was set at 95% max.

Herb started to gap the pack on the false flats. I struggled to match cadence in his slipstream. GPS said 31 mph. Bob patiently sat in the peloton. I didn’t have to hammer, but going fast was so much fun. I decided to stay with Herb ‘til my legs quit. This is probably the only race I could hang with racers of Herb’s caliber. I didn’t care if I bonked but wished I had lost a few lbs for this day. I let the pack go when my HR crossed 95% for the 3rd time. We hit an unmanned red light. I stayed behind Bob after the unscheduled stop.

20-Minute Detour

2 hours into the race, the lead pack dwindled. After a left turn, the painted arrows stopped showing up on the course. Advancing at 0 mph, we spoke of the unthinkable: “are we lost?” The pack included no females; hence were unable to ask for directions. Someone decided to stay the course, counting on the organizer’s failing to mark that intersection. I stopped following the pack. My legs felt like jello and were unlikely to stay with leaders. I skated back toward the turn: if I saw the chase pack coming toward me, I’d join; if Herb and company went the wrong way, I had gained distance on them.

Lead pack U-turned. The detour cost 3 miles. Herb radiated frustration waiting for the red light while Bob’s anger propelled him up the road alone. I was a little depressed how quickly they caught me. I soon redlined but the legs miraculously tapped out Herb’s pace. The Red Confusion dudes looked dead tired by now. I yelled at them, “Stick together. No one gets away before Silver Hill.” I felt like coach Mike.

I also felt discouraged. There was unknown number of competitors in front with possibly 15-minute lead. Herb had twice my talent and stroke length. Bob was out of sight.

I had forgotten about the relaxing Sunday morning fun skate.

42.3 mph

We finally reached the long ass downhill. I grabbed the 2nd spot to minimize the number of skaters I had to trust. My right foot speed-wobbled all the way. What a rush! It’s hard to believe Nicolas Ratthe, the backward skater, only crashed once.

2nd Half

Inevitably, Herb attacked. I told the young skater in front, “It’s up to you. We have the number.” He lacked will. I took over. I kept the gap constant. Let the big boy spend the energy skating alone on those big wheels; downhill momentum was on my side. Pretty soon my pack was down to 2. I didn’t bother to ask my shadow to pull; I just needed downhill weight. Plenty of climbs left. It pays to be the skinny Asian when it comes to hotdog eating and A2A. For miles, I watch in awe as Herb dragged his Greek God-like physique up each hill using unnaturally long strokes, never faltered.

Herb finally slowed. My heart rate dropped enough to consume the overdue gel. I bridged. No one followed. Herb and I started to work together. Bob was nowhere in sight. We didn’t know how many directionally gifted were still ahead. I ran out of hills to threaten Herb. All he had to do was pick a straight stretch to drop me. I worked with him anyway. I could use extra cushion to hold off my chasers. We could still catch Bob.

Easily Lost Strong Man

Bob caught up from behind. “I went the wrong way.” Curselessly, he flew away fueled by fury. He was 30 meters ahead. Herb chased. I shifted gear. My right quads cramped. The body finally reached its limit. It was exhilarating while it lasted. “Thank you, legs.”

I wished I were stronger.

10 miles to go, mostly rough flat road. I concentrated on not getting lost.

Free Ride

An APRR skin suit showed up with 6 miles to go.

“Do you know the route?”

“Yeah.”

“Good! I don’t know where I’m going.”

The Chuck had great form and was easy to follow. He demonstrated Southern hospitality by leading the whole way. He surged repeatedly when pavement turned smooth. It didn’t occur to me he was trying to drop me. Piedmont Park. I was confident in my sprint after the long rest but decided to let chuck cross first. It seemed right. I started moving out of his draft. A small dog moved in front of Chuck. Chuck went down avoiding the canine and leash. I narrowly escaped and crossed the finish alone. The mutt walked away tail-high, oblivious to the near collision.

Redemption

I was surprised to find Bob, Herb, and I reclaimed the 52-mile race lead. Bob pulled Herb for miles and asked Herb not to sprint, “Herb, don’t be a donkey. Let me have this.” (Inexact quote!)

Bob finally got his A2A title.

In 2007, 3 of us finished 5th ~ 7th behind 4 young skaters at 38-miles.

The 38-mile title was more achievable this year. But I wouldn’t trade the lead pack experience for the 38-mile win.

I ended my season directionally challenged, but it gave me small satisfaction that...

My skate was shorter than Herb’s 56 and Bob’s 57 miles.
The big boys of 87-mile race also got lost at a different intersection. One guy actually got on 4-lane highway.

In medical tent Chuck complemented on how tough I hanged. I finally understood the surges.

The Real Race

Peter Starykowicz from Chicago won the 87-mile race, followed by Luis Carlos Mejia who looked fast even sitting down. Eddy Matzger claimed 3rd with big smile. I asked Eddy,

“How do you recover from NY100k last week?”

“I didn’t.”

Randy Bowman didn’t have the race he wanted. Dennis Humphrey was happy with his 5 minutes behind the winner Peter longlastname, who was less than half Dennis’ age.

Meeting my Hero

Dan Burger showed up at massage booth with big camera and hairy arms. He offered to fight me for the spot in line and shared details of his 6- and 12-hour distance record. Eddy also came to the booth. Contrary to the myth, they didn’t look like twins. When his turn came up, Eddy gave the masseuse a massage.

Friends from the Montreal race

Luke helped me getting out of greased skates without mom’s support.
Morgan talked to me about his underpush during those 2.7-mile sprints.
Bryan McKenney’s non-imaginary hammerhead girlfriend came to support Bryan, who was not recovered from dominating UMCA North America 12-Hour Championship 8 days ago.
Jessica looked as tall and fast as last time I saw her. She was so fresh that 87 miles seemed insufficient.
Renee showed up at awards in a skirt.
The German skater turned down my invitation to Cow Tippers. She alleged to be a vegetarian.

Reflection

I went back to Piedmont Park alone after dinner with Blake and NC crew. I closed my eyes and could still see the 1999 sprint finish when the skater collided into a photographer. I rearranged my life to train for the 87-mile. I made friends through the event. Thinking about skaters fighting the hills always warms my heart.

I wished A2A would prosper again.

GPS/HRM Data

3:34:23
55.28 miles
Avg speed: 15.5 mph
Avg HR: 89%
Calories: 2922

Posted Data

3:34:14
52 miles
Avg speed: 14.6 mph

On-Course Nutrition

1.5 Perpetuem
1 gel
16 oz diluted Gatorade
28 oz water

The Texas Time Trail

2008-10-25T20:41:00.000-07:00

Bryan McKenney raced 12-hour TT. 5 hours into race, he stopped and chatted as I got ready for 6-hour TT. He looked relaxed and pointed out the 2nd place a hundred yards behind. He had a few moments to spare. Must be nice to have this level of confidence.

_Low expectation
TTTT was my 2008 “D” event. Unrecovered from Montreal. A2A was 8 days away. If I have to pick an event to suck less, A2A wins. My IM CDA housemate Erik Bricker arrived late. He dashed in the registration when his competitors already lined up to start.

I reminded myself, “No risk. No digging” as the gun went off. 20-mile loop. I’d do 80 miles. 100 max.

_Crash
Drafting was allowed the first few miles. 1 guy took off like a rocket. Rest of us formed a nice pace line. The pace lifted, I let the pack go. This was a recon ride; I didn’t need to trust everyone in front of me. I saw the wreck 4 miles into the race. I rode slowly with another racer waiting for the pack. Erik caught us: 1 bike broke; pretty much everyone went down. Erik, hanging off back of the pack due to late arrival, was one of the few escaped. 1 girl was hurt bad. There was no cell phone signal. Some racers rode back to the start to alert medicals. All the sudden I was one of the leaders. I lost my resolve of not racing. 120 miles was the new goal, which seemed insufficient to surpass the lead guy, but this was cycling. Everyone was 1 mechanical issue away from stopping.

_Direction
The organizer made it clear “2 right turns only.”
The first turn was clear: green right turn arrow + manned intersection.
At next intersection, I saw black left turn paint on the ground. It didn’t occur to me black meant, “Erased.” I asked the cop at intersection by pointing left. He nodded. I follow the arrow. A few miles later I rolled to a boat ramp looking at the pretty lake. My race was over. The covered left turn was used for July Goatneck ride.

_Reconnaissance
I changed GPS to map mode and got back to the course. The 3-year old GPS locked up, which never happened before. Freaky day. I saw McKenney on the course and used him as a guide. He wouldn’t get lost after being on the course for 7 hours. Using cosmetic arguments, he convinced me to chase the 6-hour woman leader.

I lost motivation by end of 2nd lap. I’d seen the course and have no chance of a top finish. I took a long break at the car before 3rd lap. Legs got pretty tired of climbing. I was uncomfortable in aero position and had no reason to go hard. I finished the lap and called it the day.

At the award I got to pose with a trophy. The director promised I’d get one in the mail. I wanted to tell him my performance didn’t deserve a trophy but didn’t want to be disrespectful.

McKenney had the win in the bag before his rear tire self-destructed. The organizer announced his 2nd place qualified him as “rookie of the year.” He shrugged off the mechanical issue as “part of racing.” It turns out he really has a non-imaginary girl friend who’s not a hired actress. No actress could hammer out 500 miles under 36 hours.

#’s
4:06
official mile: 60
approx mile rode: 70
2551 cal
avg HR: 76%
crash: 0
off course count: 1

Montreal 24-Hour Inline Race

2008-10-25T08:38:00.000-07:00

24-hour skate, loop course, Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve (4.32km)

2 Texas Flyers, Biff and I, skated Montreal 24-Hour last weekend (http://inline24.com/). Skatey-Mark got 2nd in this event last year.

Smooth road surface. Each relay team has up to 10 skaters. Laps are 2.7 miles; team members take a lap usually every 1 to 1.5 hrs. Or if you're going through midlife crisis, you can skate the 24 hours all by yourself. Below is my very wordy story for the long ass event.

Montreal is a fun town to visit. Drivers treat daily commute like a marathon races. Smoked meat sandwiches are excellent.
---------------------------------------------------------------------

Expectation

I decided to make Montreal the 2008 "A" event when Tibetan border closed.

I looked at past winning times and thought them reachable.

For 2008 the field would double in size, and Le Man winner would participate. Other factors included the single-mindedness of Lawrence, the top-returning participant. I thought getting on podium would be a moving target and picked 300 miles as the goal.

Race Plan #1.

Stick to the eventual leader like glue.
Stay with paceline when possible.
Basically race like an Italian road cycling sprinter.
Stop every 4 to 6 hours.

The obvious flaw is my ability to identify the right lead at the start.

This plan also didn’t match the goal, but it was early in the season and all my neurons were devoted to duathlon and the Tibet trip.

July Austin rehearsal

Brian Shicoff organized the 12-hour skate in Austin.

I suffered unexpectedly. I went out too hard, ate too much. I watched in awe as Lawrence (aka More Cowbell) tapped out steady rhythm.

Lessons:

Steady pace
Minimize non-rolling time
Minimize calorie requirement
Don't challenge the climbs

Race Plan #2

Let Lawrence set the pace.
3 scheduled stops at hours 12, 18, 21
Reduce calorie consumption.
New goal: 289 miles.

Last minute surprise
Biff got a solo spot few weeks before the race. This resolved many issues. He would hand me food and provide an hourly lap pull. We would discuss race strategy on the course. I didn't want Biff to overexert because of his upcoming Austin Ironman 70.3

During actual event, Biff surprised me by hourly 3-lap pulls at the speed I needed to recover and provided flexibility of variable heartrates between his pulls.

Race Plan #3

First 12 hours: Ignore ranking.
Stay mostly aerobic and keep moving.
Shoot for 144 miles.
Assuming podium finish unrealistic, hold 13 ~ 14 mph.
No stops. Rolling recovery.

Pre-race

I wanted to hammer out a quick lap the moment I saw the smooth course.

Participants prepared their space with lawn furniture, air mattresses, hammock, clotheslines, shelves, heat guns, and espresso machines.

I resisted the urge to socialize and lay on the paddock floor.

Biff reminded me yet again this is a 9-month journey and a once-in-a-life-time opportunity, and that I could consume large quantity of comfort food after the race. My heartrate was in racing range before I put skates on.

15 minutes before the race, I finally laced up and started the warm up. My body felt heavy after the 3-week taper, carrying friends’ expectations, good wishes, and GPS’s.

Crazy first hours

In less than 1 hour the big solo pack caught us slow starters. I jumped pack, started to average 18+ mph. I monitored my heartrate thinking these fast laps could be my undoing, but free speed was hard to resist. I vowed not to repeat my Austin mistake while flirting with anaerobic threshold.

We spotted the somewhat-official 24-hour skate record holder Philippe Coussy. He wore the same outfit and $1200 frame as in Le Man photo.

Soloists chatted away. No one seemed to breathe hard. A 23-year-old with knee brace described how he blew the left knee doing single-leg 400-lb press. Brian Schicoff and Bryan McKenney seemed to have too much fun. Brian actually cut the line to do extra pulls. Majority of the soloists were capable of impressive marathon times.

Finally it was my lead at bottom of the hill. I slow the pack down to 11 mph climbing.

"You don't pull?" A skater complained with French accent when the impatient skaters formed another paceline to pass me. It was pointless to explain I don't pull fast when there are 22+ hours left. Someone answered the question:

"He doesn't pull; he's from Texas."

I thought it was pretty funny.

Wet

Rained. Just like last 3 previous years.

Energy bled with each stroke. I double pushed just to avoid slipping. Inner thighs started to complain. I don't know how Mark Sibert skated with yellow Matters in the rain in 2007. He must have better technique. But it was too late to sign up for his workshop. Most of us left the paceline of unsustainable speed.

I made a wheel change stop. So much for skating the entire 24 hours. 2 Hours later I heard that lead pack was down to 6 but still hauling donkey. I started to question Lawrence's and my chance for a top 6 finish.

I was glad I chose the Giro Pneumo with visor instead of the lighter Giro Atmos. Water still got into my eyes. Not putting sunscreen on forehead was a good decision.

Skaters crashed left and right. There were 2 invisible slippery patches at a turn Biff and I kept losing traction yet couldn’t avoid stepping on it. I focused on minimizing underpush and staying in the draft. Under the condition there was no way to avoid crash if the lead skaters went down; might as well draft aggressively. A pretty red fox showed up oblivious to the danger of human presence. She didn’t laugh at supposedly good skaters losing balance all over the road.

Energy

"It's not how much energy you use, but how much you save."

--Robbie McCuen on 2007 Tour de France.

I divide the 2.7-mile smooth course into 3 parts.

Climbs and turns
Headwind
Tailwind straightaway

Like a street corner prostitute, I waited for relay racers to carry me through the headwind section. I accepted anyone from 12 to 21 mph. Beggars can’t choose, but wider the better. Some relay racers gave up few strokes to ease my transition then didn’t ask me to pull.

To reduce calorie requirement and muscle strains, I underpushed the turns and threw no crossover the whole race.

Biff brought my nutrition to the course; I pick things directly out of his fanny pack. This eliminated speed variation required to grab items from stationary supports’ outstretching arms.

I did spent extra calories to high-five the guy who skated backward. Just had to.

Real-time decision

Skaters were chatty after adrenalin returned to normal level.

"You have to climb 100 steps to get to the washroom." A tired soloist complained.

"Then you have walk down 200 steps just to come back down." A local relayer agreed.

This was how I decided Gatorade bottle was the way to go with which Renee was very impressed with.

Mistake

Temperature dropped with the rain.

I asked Biff to get my arm warmers and long pants ready. I mentally ran through each step and suddenly realized putting on tights required taking the skates off. I didn't think I could bear to put the skates back on. I decided to resolve the cold knee issue by ignoring the problem.

Negative incentive (9pm)

BBQ in the air. I became immensely hungry. The event organizer had a sick sense of humor and made the skater go through the aroma every lap. This probably would seem funny when I look back. I wolfed down all nutrition in the pockets and craved a big hamburger with no lettuce, no tomato, and no buns.

This was when I noticed some relay teams used Madison-style exchange. Many of these racers held speed beyond my competency. They usually flew by as if I were standing still. Morgan passed me twice; each time I felt the need to improve my DP.

Brief cooperation with MC

While I focused on staying in others’ slipstream, Lawrence tapped out consistent strides like a metronome. We finally hooked up in the dark. Our alliance came to an abrupt end due to his cramp. We wished each other luck before parting ways. He was hurt, teammateless, laps behind, and unable to hold 25+ mph for the fast straightaway. Yet somehow I thought he could still kick my butt.

Saw Shicoff couple times. He looked uncomfortable but said he was OK.

"Just slow and steady."

His body had difficulties holding core temperature, and he wisely brought the cold-weather gears.

I couldn't recognize McKenney in the dark.

Surviving the 2nd half

Getting through the first 12 hrs without significant discomfort was a major goal.

"You should feel so fresh you could do another 12."

I felt great at 1 am.

Biff told me to continue the strategy of not worry about my ranking.

"All the rabbits have gone to sleep."

Road was mostly dry by now. All body parts functional. Stomach complained only once about this unnatural diet.

I had little confidence about reaching 289 miles at this point. I tried to pump myself up:

"I'm just like the record holder Eric Gee except I have smaller legs and inferior techniques. I have no previous experience on the course, seldom skate on wet pavement, don't make my own boots, don’t train as hard, and never came close to winning national title at any distance."

But Eric fought the 2007 wind using aerodynamic equipment; my race condition enabled me to minimize headwind while enjoyed full benefit of tail wind. Advantage was clearly on my side. Yeah, the official record was going down.

Confidence evaporated at hour 12.5. The outside of right knee stiffened from the cold. I took my first slow recovery lap, which didn't help enough. I reinstated the 12-hour break and spent 5 minutes to warm up the knee while Biff put the yellow Matters back on. I doubled the ibuprofen for remaining of the race.

Mistaken identity

I registered as Texas Flyer but wore a plain jersey that allowed changing without taking helmet off. Biff wore the very visible red-yellow skin suit. People started to congratulate Biff on the top 5 standing and probably wonder how he skated that far while spending so much time in the pit preparing nutrition.

Grave yard shift

Statistically 3 ~ 6 am is a big hurdle.

I was busy finding drafts, monitoring nutrition, and generally being terrified of crashing. The 3 hrs flew by. My stomach was digesting well. I added 2 Gu’s to reduce the chance of confusing hypoglycemia with a character flaw.

I was amazed how my form held. “Trust your training,” Biff reminded me.

The other French skater

2 French skaters entered the race after good results from LeMan 2 months ago.

It was about hour 16 when I noticed #222. He asked the usual:

Where are you from? How many times have you done this? How can your French be worse than my English.…

Pretty soon we realized we were competing for the same podium spot. Biff confirmed,

"He has 2 laps on you. You’re 4th."

Biff and I launched attack after attack; he valiantly cameback every time, digging deep. #222 labored to get back to my draft after Biff left the course for the hour. I spotted 2 fitness skaters and pulled the closer one to the other's slipstream. 3 of us hammered for next 2 miles and left the little dude in the dust. 2 very strong relay racers pulled my next 2 laps. I was spent but made up a lap toward the podium. Lap time later showed that #222 blew up trying to defend that lap and Lawrence moved up to 4th.

I was concerned about Biff. The cold and wind couldn’t be easy on someone who made 1 hourly long stop. I actively sought out a pack to stay in so Biff doesn’t have to work so hard for remaining hours.

Coussy was all over the course, jumping from paceline to paceline. You could spot his seemingly inefficient arm swing miles away. Biff confirmed Coussy's lap count was untouchable. 2nd place was #202. I didn’t see him the first 18 hours and for a while wondered if it was McKenney.

7:30am (5.5 hrs to go)

The 2 hills became huge about this time. I was in so much pain I didn't notice thesun came up. I looked forward for theankle blister to pop to reduce the pressure. I found a French-speaking pack doing modest 12-minute lap. Coussy sat in this pack and skipped all hispulls. So did a well-dressed jovial guywith no bib number on the back. Hepulled out the phone and apparently asked about me. Biff found out that the numberless skater was 2ndplace Normandeau Patrick; he had 1 lap on me. We tried to lap that pack but #203 and #204 countered our every move.

#201 and Coussy were also protective of Patrick. #201 looked like it was hard for him to skate this slowly. 5 against 2, not counting possibly other Quebec skaters recharging in paddock. I wanted to attack but needed at least 5 fast laps assuming everything went my way. Chances were I would bonk, not to mention lengthening Biff’s recovery for very little gain. What I really wanted was surpassing Coussy, which seemed mathematically impossible at that point.

"You were out teammated" Bryan commented later.

I made the logical move. I begged:

"you keep me in this pack, and I don't attack."

A win-win proposition except they didn't trust me and apparently thought my legs could still throw lots of sub-10-minute laps. They didn't ask me to pull, which was a bad sign.

House of cards

Difficulties climbing. Bladder full. Left ankle not holding correct wheel angle.

I was several laps ahead of Lawrence. 5 skaters working together could attack me in various ways. Alternatively I could draft behind Lawrence and lose at most 1 lap, but Lawrence had incentive to pass me.

I took the easy way out: a short nap before rejoining the paceline. Patrick and his teammates finally relaxed with this 1-lap bribe. 'til the last lap, my heart rate stayed lower than pre-race when I lay on the floor. Top 3 skaters used little energy while Lawrence cranked out his miles, ready for us to falter.

I stayed in the comfort zone and counted all the things that could still go wrong: cramps, crashes, lower back spasm, mechanical, GI…. I started to ignore the race script to focus on staying upright. I skipped gels and water, assuming all the heavy lifting was done. I skipped the sunscreen and GPS swap to reduce the chance of dropping things. All I had to do was keep moving. There ain’t nothing wrong with a 4.5-hour cool down skate.

Biff went to the front to control pace. At every little climb, he tried hard not to put a big gap in front of the world record holder who skated like god just few hours ago. Coussy grabbed his left thigh the whole morning. He gave me a blank look when I asked him what’s wrong. Should’ve learned some French for this trip.

I had no idea about my mileage. I decided to focus on the podium finish. The body strongly suggested that I minimize muscular usage.

Happy ending
15 minutes to go. I jumped out and announced,

“I will lap you twice!”

The well-rested pack actually reacted before figuring out the joke. The racers were allowed to finish the lap they're on at the 24-hour mark. Our slow-moving paceline organized to make the cut off. I sat behind the domestique #201 and beat the clock at 25+ mph. That boy could move! It was so exhilarating we didn't realize we dropped our teammates.

That little 600-meters fun probably cost me days of recovery time. I spoke with French accent by this time.

"*&^$! We have to climb this *&^%$# hill again...."

Everyone congratulated Coussy. I shook hands with #222, Patrick and his helpers. I received pats (above waist) along with bunch friendly-sounding French words. They let Biff and I move ahead, and I forgot to ask about Coussy’s left thigh. Biff and I crossed the line under the Christmas light together. I was grateful to have a teammate to share that moment.

Post-race

Watching the 24-hour community tearing down the paddock home was a bit depressing. Many skaters departed before the race ended. Felt like I missed a party.

Biff didn't want me help packing.

"Get out there and have a good time."

He knew I wanted to visit with racers from DC, skatelog, and the new friends who helped me in past 24 hours. I only knew them by backsides and voices. I never hooked up with those skaters. My brake ability disappeared and I kept running into walls, cars, and people.

I return to assigned space to take skates off and found heavily blanketed Lawrence in shock paying for his pursuit. I accidentally stepped on his toenail sitting on the floor all by itself. He graciously congratulated me and commented my speed range as a major factor. The silver and bronze finishes were team efforts. Lawrence's podium chance was slim by hour 18 simply because he was out-teammated. We couldn't touch him if this were a time trial.

Back to real world

The salt in hotel bathtub made me notice all the cuts on my shins torn open by rear wheels. I again marveled at Lawrence’s wattage.

Walking wasn’t too difficult for the next 3 days, though Biff and I briefly considered abandoning Guinness because the bar had big stairs.

Wednesday morning. I sat at a Dallas Dunkin’ Donuts watching the SUV wives doing morning shopping. The suburban scene looked surreal and easy to give up. I limped in the car park full of Lexus and Infinities and couldn’t remember how I pictured my future at the Mercedes-filled Orange County Costco parking lot in 1993. 15 years ago I didn’t know I’d appreciate donut with coffee this much.

I still wondered how much my training would need to change in order to close that 1-lap deficit. Maybe all it'd take was a pair of knee warmers that could be put on while skating. But races are unpredictable. Without that 1 lap lead, the Canadian team could've exhausted me by 10 am. I was lucky to have few enough things to go wrong that I had a good race.

Thank Yous

Shicoff for coordinating.
McKenney for encouragements with that confident McKenney style.
Renee, Rick and Andrea for staying up all night to support the solo skaters and for peeling me off the floor.
Mark Sibert for making me thinking about the event at 2007 a2a dinner.
Eric Gee for saving my skin and convincing me a sprinter could do well at such event.
Texas Flyers, my team, for providing paceline skills, discipline, introduction to endurance, and camaraderie.
Relay racers for slipstreams and extra room at the relay area.
Lawrence for education, encouragement, and inspiration.
Biff for going beyond the planned roles (manager, support, trainer) and risking his Ironman 70.3 to optimize my race. And for being a friend.
Tanisha for guiding me through triathlon then taking away my bragging rights by finishing the same Ironman 3 months after C-section, and for giving Biff up for the duration of the event.

HRM info:

avg: 67%
max: 90%
12005 cal
time: 24:14

Crashes: 0

Blisters: 2

Distance data:

avg = 13.8 mph
fast lap = 28.748 km/hr = 17.97 mph
lap count = 124
total distance = 334.8 miles
total race time = 24:13:53

Approx time not skating:

5 min, change to rain wheels
1:30am 6 min, wheel change + nap
10:30am 8 min, bathroom + nap

Planned nutrition:

Hammer gel; espresso 8
Gu gel; no caffeine 2
Red Bull 5
Amino Vital 8
ibuprofen 12
Viviran 4
SportLegs 30
Antifatigue Cap 26
Endurolyte 23
Perpetuem 15
Caloriesper hour 233

Course:

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=gilles+villeneuve+montreal&sll=45.517173,-73.515873&sspn=0.056653,0.160675&ie=UTF8&ll=45.508332,-73.524456&spn=0.028331,0.080338&t=h&z=14&iwloc=addr&om=1

Road to Montreal 24-Hour

2008-10-25T08:36:00.000-07:00

Long Practice
2008 Father's Day. The Baileys came out to keep me company for the boring 0.43-mile loop parking lot skate. 6 hours into the session, Perpetuem sat in my stomach like wet cement looking for the first opportunity to project. It was now evident that the nutrition plan wouldn't work for the event that's less than 3 months away. The thermometer leaning against the tire said 103. My blisters were poised to have their own blisters. "You look great," Tanisha lied. She finished an Ironman 3 months after C-section and knew the loneliness of long distance training. Sam the 1.25-year-old boy enthusiastically maximized the breadcrumbs spread in the brand new Baileymobile. I wished I had his energy. I felt hopelessly unready for the 24-hour skate.

Motivation
I met my 2007 goals:
Ø fulfill the Ironman promise
Ø skate Hotter n Hell 100
Ø improve my A2A 38-mile time
Ø run a sub-8:00-pace half marathon
2008 wasn't scheduled around fitness targets; it would be the year I light a lamp inside of the Tibetan temple. I signed up for Montreal as a fun event and a chance to visit the city. The original plan was 200 miles: 10 mph was a speed I didn't need to train for, and 4 hours sounded like reasonable naptime. Chinese government closed Tibet boarder, then Danny Dannels threw his hat in the ring and asked me to skate pace line after his coast-to-coast skate. He convinced me to up my training using very few words. I wrote "300" on the wall. Friends visiting the house assumed I was a fan of the movie. Danny changed his skate plan and ditched Montreal. I couldn't think of a good reason to back out. Brian Shicoff, Bryan McKenney, Renee Coffman, and Mark Sibert encouraged me to stick with the plan. "There is nothing to be scared of, it's a really fun event. " emailed Bryan. Biff agreed to help with the trip. Biff and Tanisha guided me through triathlon and had a good understanding of my fitness limitations.

Foreseeable challenge 1: Aero or not aero
Past participants commented on the "aero helmet guy." A few actually laughed at the wearer who eventually won the solo event. Unable to find wind tunnel data for skaters, I found Eric Gee on facebook. He graciously shared his decision-making processes.
I took the aero helmet out of the box and started practicing with it.

Foreseeable challenge 2: Boots
In the custom Simmons boots, I could handle events up to 3 hours. The skin was very unhappy after 6 hours A2A in 2007. Mark and Lawrence both had major feet issue after their 2007 podium finishes. I seek more advice from Eric whom stayed in his homemade boots for the award. I adopted his grease system and had smellier but bloodless boots.

Foreseeable challenge 3: Nutrition
My philosophy had been "I don't participate in events long enough to worry about it. Proper carbo loading should store 2000 cal of glycogen. Body had 4+ lb of water to spare. Fat doesn't run out. Just need to consume some fixed amount of gel per hour and drink when body wants it."
Simple calculation shows this approach doesn't work for 24-hour skate even on paper. I started to keep track of food/fluid intake during long skate, where I stand on the bathroom scale hourly. Arrogantly ignoring Hammer's 280 calories / hr limit, I finished many long skates feeling ill. I started over using data from triathlon and 100-mile runs and reach a stable plan with gel and powder (233 cal / hour intake).
Hammer gel; espresso 8
Gu gel; no caffeine 2
Red Bull 5
Amino Vital 8
ibuprofen 12
Viviran 4
SportLegs 30
Antifatigue Cap 26
Endurolyte 23
Perpetuem 15

Training
Started with simple weekly programs:
Mon yoga or short run.
Tu TX F. Popeye fry chicken
Wed trainer ride w/ movie, low HR, 3+ hrs; meal on wheels
Th TX F. Korean Tofu bowl.
Fri rest
Sat group bike ride || hill repeats, short run. Stretch. Balance board.
Sun long parking lot solo skate
I increased the weekend volume weekly 'til body told me to rest. I'd start another mesocycle. This worked well 'til the long skate got to 7+ hours. Lower back pain and sciatica forced me to look for ways to trim training while maintaining the 1 long weekly skate. By July I was in survival mode.

Dress Rehearsal 7/19/2008
Brian secured Driveway in Austin for 12 hours for the long practice (Thank you Brian).
Hot and humid. Smooth surface. Lots of turns. 1 longish mild climb per lap.
I started comfortable and tried to sing for Brian when his iPod failed. I chattered away on mobile wishing for the Bluetooth headset. I looked forward to the hill every lap; the slope fed into the under-push so perfectly. The fun lasted < 3 hours. By midnight I was 4 lb lighter and had unnatural amount of fluid sitting in the gut. I skipped 500 calories of Perpetuem and felt weak. The core somewhat recovered by 3am and was able to hold reasonable speed in Lawrence's draft. I felt defeated. I focused on getting through each lap. Quads threatened to quit at every climb.
I ended up with 140 miles that night I was no longer confident about the 300 miles or getting through the event vomitlessly. I started thinking hard about pacing and reducing calorie.
2 weeks after the Austin skate I was unable to hang in the usual bike pack. The legs had no acceleration for run, bike, and skate. Eric told me about his 2007 months-long recovery experience. I was dismayed how I arbitrarily decided 2 weeks were sufficient recovery time. I thought all was lost at this point. Somehow I didn't freak out. Watching teammate Scarlett recovering from brain surgery helped put things in perspective. I would go to a beautiful city and enjoy a relaxed event. Weather and legs will do what they want. Worrying won't help recovery.

Power gradually returned 3 weeks after the 12-hour skate.

Daily Nutrition
I found myself losing weight steadily when training started (Oprah's dream). I ate junk food to fuel the weekend long skate just to slow the weight lose. I also frequented pizza buffet, Popeye's Tuesday manager special, and Osaka all-you-can-eat sushi. The downside of eating all the time was food no longer tasted as good.
After the Austin skate, I decided to lose 5 lb to reduce calorie need. Weight control has been the 1 aspect of endurance sports I did well, but this time it was difficult because of recovery from the long skate; I constantly worried about nutrition. The drastically reduced training volume made required fuel difficult to gauge. Somehow things worked out, and I left for Montreal with target weight. I thought of writing Oprah to explain how to do this: step 1, sign up for a long-ass endurance event….

Goal
I was disappointed to learn 300 miles wouldn't necessarily break the course record. No one knew how far Eric Gee skated due to a defective timing chip. I usually assume 13 mph is my forever speed, but I was unable to hold that speed after 5 hours at 2007 A2A.
13 mph x 23 hr = 299 miles
The official course record is 288 miles.
I decided to go for 110 laps = 289 miles => average 12.6 mph for 23 hours of skating.
Mileage is function of weather and draft opportunities

Teammate
Biff received a last-minute spot for solo racer. Montreal would be part of his preparation for his upcoming Half Ironman event. He would deliver hourly nutrition, supply, standing updates, and slipstream. I happily crossed out 2-way radio and aero helmet off the pack list.

Uncertainty
Lots of questions remained unanswered during last mesocycle. Usually decisions are arbitrary made when the deadline knocked on the door:
Ø 100mm or 110mm wheels?
Ø Am I better off with 2nd weekly long skate or yoga?
Ø Fluid intake at much cooler climate?
Ø How many pee bottles?
Ø Wheel changes?
Ø Bearings. 6 or 7 balls? Oil or gel?
Ø Jersey change?
Ø 3 20-min stop or no stop?
Ø Lights on helmet?
Ø Could I walk Montreal downtown the next day?
Ø Could I recover in time for Texas Time Trial?
Ø Could I recover for A2A?

Shoulders of the Giants

Participating endurance events is like solving engineering problems:

Finishing Ironman is about identifying weaknesses and paying the minimum price to get around them.
Skating Hotter n Hell 100 is about moving quickly enough before Hell's Gates and dehydration become factors.
Skating 24 hours is about minimizing down time while holding the parameters within tolerance.

Having no experience with 24-hour events, I rely on others' footprints:

1993: Kevin Setnes used 25-5 strategy at the Olander Park 24 Hour run to set the North American record of 160.4 miles.
This was the base of Biff and my 2007 marathon strategy. Biff continued to drill into my head: recover _before_ fatigue. Start at the speed that barely feel like working, then go a little slower.

1995. Dean Karnazes ate a cheesecake after a large pineapple and ham pizza while in motion during a 199-mile run.
This is almost as cool as Kobayashi ingesting 10000 calories in under 10 minutes.
I was forced to accept Hammer's 270 calorie/hr limit after ugly experiments.
I also rejected Karnazes run-'til-drop approach.
Start easy and go slow 'til someone provides draft, and then enjoy Montreal the day after the race.

2006. Carmichael added 700 calories/day to Dean Karnazes diet before Edurance 50.
I increased calorie intake by junk food to fuel the weekend long skate March ~ July. The downside of eating all the time was food no longer tasted as good

2007: Michael Secrest Indoor Track unpaced cycling: 535.86 mi in 24 hours at age of 54 and didn't let an asthma attack stop him
Training: 1 weekly long ride. Boring unchanged routes. Alternating hard-easy days. Ignore age
Race: All liquid-based fuel. Even-ish splits. Backup equipment. Ignore pain

2007 Robbie McCuen commented on the Tour: "it's not how much energy you use, but how much you save."
I routinely bonked within 4 hours of what I thought was reasonable pace. I lasted < 5 hours at 2007 A2A.
Need a realistic pace strategy that's more concrete than "Start slow, stay slow, and maybe go harder after the 16-hour warm-up."
Drop 5 lb to reduce calorie need.

2008: George Hood pedal stationary bike for 176 hours at a suburban YMCA, never slept for more than 12 minutes at a time. Allegedly Hood used Will Ferrell movies to pass the time.
To practice boredom, I scheduled weekly 4-hr trainer rides and learned that Jackass is superior to yearning –based French films. It's hard to stay awake unless something happens on the screen, which is defined as car chasing, automatic weapon firing, or Sharon Stone re-crossing her legs.

2008: Barefoot Ted skateboarded 242 miles in 24 hours.
This became the lower bound. There ain't no way I'd let him beat me using a skateboard no matter how perfect his race condition was. Somewhere between 242 and 535 is my optimal skate mileage.

2008 Steve Larsen explains his Ironman strategy after qualifying for Kona
"No matter what I do with the swim, I know I'm gonna suck.... I'm only going to focus on my strength and completely ignore my weakness."
My weakness is pacing. I can't hold constant pace even with GPS. I'll pick a steady skater and follow him/her as much as I could. This means skating at other's optimal speed, which beats skating too fast then burn up.

2008 Le Man solo winner skated 355.6 miles under good dry light-wind at age of 49.
I probably ain't old enough for this sport.

2008 July. Lawrence Pelo, the top returning participant from Montreal 24-Hour 2007, tapped out machine-like steady pace in Austin for 160+ miles in 12 hour.
I watched in awe every time he lapped me on the 1.6-mile course. I would use his pace during the event.

8-31-2008, last weekend before the event

2008 Playtri Duathlon

2008-10-25T08:35:00.000-07:00

I looked at the cold splashes against the lake shore in this 50-degree morning. Felt relieved I didn't have to swim today.

Playtri 2007 was my prep tri for Ironman. This year I signed up for my first duathlon: run bike run. 2+10+2 miles. Historically I average
8:00 pace (run)
20 mph (solo bike)
0.67 bike crash per triathlon
10+ minute combine transitions
I figure 1 hour is a reasonable goal; assuming T1 and T2 stay within non-laughable range.

The prep was focused on transitions. I even bought tri-shoes and practice leaving them on the bike pedals. This led to my first 2 stationary bike accidents. I'm so not cut out for this sport. I gave up sub-minute transitions: it's a short transition area; we're really only talking about 30-60 seconds of difference per transition any way.

My other glaring weakness is inability to run after bike. My March weekends were filled with bike-run repeats.

Game day.

The start was a zoo filled with athletes from multiple events: 5k, 10k, kids run, duathlon. I couldn't pace so followed some guy who seemed to know what he was doing. Made it to T1 in under 16 minutes and didn't spend 3 minutes looking for the bike. Put on helmet and bike shoes without incidence. Wow, what did I do that took over 10 minutes last year?

I passed a few racers at every climb and sensed I was near the front: the motorcycle showed a time board to the cyclist in front of me. He slowed down every time orange cones showed up at intersections. I took the lead half way into the race and realized I didn't study the course either and had to slow to see the arrows that differentiate the races. I decided to stay 15 yards behind my competition and save the legs for the run. "Keep it safe, you need to train for Montreal 24-Hour ASAP."

3 of us arrived at T2 within a 20-second window. The other 2 ran while I slowly walked on my cleats. No surprise there. I felt good after putting on running shoes but GPS told me I barely held 9:00 pace. A few weekend practices were insufficient. By the time my legs recovered, those 2 guys were gone. I saw 3 racers in front of me at the U-turn; the gap seemed unbridgeable.

1 mile to go. I heard footsteps behind and got ready to follow but gave up when GPS said 6:06 pace. "wow, this guy can't bike or transition to save his life!" I enviously watch him fly away. Later I learned he was from a relay team.

I was about to suck up for a strong finish when I remember my skate practice the next day. I was in no danger of losing my place and had no chance of improving it by reaching hammer zone. I finished the 2-mile run in 14:06. Among top-9 finishers, only 2 of us finished outside of 13:00 window.

2nd place beat me by 61 seconds, a time frame savable via good transitions. This is discouraging because transition skills ain't something I want to throw resources at. I shouldn't complain: my race went as planned. I unexpectedly won my age group with 58:22.7.

Lessons of the day: to maximize the chance of bringing hardware home:
1. race duathlon the same weekend most multi-sport athletes compete in triathlons.
2. don't crash.

2008 Texas Road Rash Inline Race

2008-10-25T08:32:00.000-07:00

I had 5 skate practices in 2008. Practice #2 and #4 went badly.

I signed up for half marathon since 5k wasn’t offered. I packed the camera that I hadn’t skated with since Euroroll 2006. Time flies.

TXRR has matured and runs like clockwork under Richard Littrell and the City of Round Rock.

Saturday Elimination (11 laps, last man out)

Game plan:

Avoid being tripped by sub-80-LB skaters.

Keep the pace low and utilize my 10-second sprint.

Races seldom go as planned.

3 laps in, 2 bright orange skin suits had big lead.

I did a poor job organizing the chase group. Our pack fell to pieces when starting pursue. No other Texas Flyer entered the event. I went alone. I stealthily gained ground before the host Richard used the PA system to warn my competition. Thanks a lot, Richard! I kicked myself for not going earlier when pulled off the course.

The pros stirred when Joey Mantia showed up at registration.

I follow him a few min during his warm up. Effortless form. Very humbling.

Sunday. Sunny. Cool. Breezy. Beautiful day.

Jerry showed up at start preroadrashed. You gotta cut that out, Jerry.

Duane and Timo had the first pulls. I barely hung onto Timo’s cadence. 13+ miles to go. I took coach’s advice and skipped all my pulls after facing 3 seconds of alleged 6~8 mph wind (yeah, right).

Rest of the race was uneventful. I skated at the back of the TXF train for 13 miles then went hard at the last corner.

I stayed on the course with the camera. My legs suffered trying to keep my subjects in frame.

I didn’t adjust shutter speed as sun got bigger and ended up overexposing half the shots. Should’ve taken a course from Kautz Photography.

Happy racers thanked me for my teammates pulling. Many were envious I had such team to skate with. One skater poked fun of my Saturday performance, “can’t hack it without 8 supporting teammates, eh?” It’s not far from the truth.

Had dinner with friends downtown Austin. Never Again and Tiger Cry were excellent Thai dishes.

Saw bats leaving Congress Ave Bridge before driving back to Dallas. Quite a sight. Stayed clear of bat poopoo rain. A good day.

photo posted:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/johnny101/

2007 inaugural Houston Inline Marathon

2008-10-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

It was a fun and relaxing weekend with a nice hotel.
Wish more skaters were there.

photos by Shelley Kautz:

http://www.kautzphoto.com/pegasus%20photo%20site/Houston07/Texas%20Flyer...

result:

http://www.premierraces.com/results.htm

My chip time wasn't in the result no doubt because I cross the finish line too many times.

Here's the log:

_The Objective
2007 was a great racing season. I completed my 3 big events: IMCDA, HHH, A2A. I debated on goal for Houston Inline Marathon while feeling fat and happy from Halloween sugar. I didn’t want the chaos of a marathon race. Other options include:
1. get pulled by the Texas Flyers train in pro pack. This would involve declaring Tonya as honorary man so she could skate with us.
2. race the half distance
3. focus on helping teammates to have a good marathon time
The pro pack plan was scraped due to travel issues and injuries. I didn’t want to sprint against 7 and 9-year-olds. I promised Scarlett I’d pull her. My conviction wavered when I saw the size of the half-marathon trophy. Fortunately the Zen Buddhist in me reminded me I don’t need to be attached to another chunk of molecules.

Danny decided to stay in pro division even without the team puller. I love the boy’s spirit.

_Open Division
The road surface didn’t look bad but skaters went down left and right near the start: I saw young Phil and recently injured Jerry on the ground. Not good. Scarlett and I took our time. I planned to go slow the first lap of the 6 laps. I wanted negative splits.

The supposedly flat course was more challenging than anticipated with 2 U turns and 4 climbs per lap. Scarlett and I held a steady pace and slowly pick up Young Phil, New Chris, Shelley, and other random skaters. Couple skaters offered to pull; none seemed steady enough to follow.

We saw Hillary happily cranking on the other side of the street. Spectators and pro skaters cheered us on. Nothing but good vibes in the air. Suddenly Scarlett lost balance and torn the race number off my thigh. Hopefully the number wouldn’t end up caught in someone’s skate. Then Hillary went down after potty break. The street’s feng-shui worked against the Flyers that morning. I talked to a less happy Hillary as she made her way back to the start.

_Pro Waves
The pros started while we’re still on the course. Teenagers with 3 lungs dictated the pace for pro men. Brenda fell near the start; Tonya waited for her. They ended up doing a 2-person time trial. Danny lost his pack and enthusiastically skated his first pro division race solo.

_Half lap to go.
A few skaters in our pack started to “attack.” One actually asked me when he should sprint if he wanted to beat the guy who just left the pack. I found myself coaching complete stranger seeking advice during the race so he could beat me. I didn’t care. I was here for a team skate, and my teammates were doing well. Our pace line cross the line around 1:43. No unnecessary risk, no crash. Mission accomplished.

_Active Spectator
Before start, the announcer said we could skate as many laps as we wanted. I didn’t know if she was joking, but this was a rare chance for me to watch the race from the course. I jumped on the pro pack behind some very tired skaters. I slowed down before the downhill under the bridge to see rest of the pro racers. Chris and Duane’s small chase pack barely held 20 mph. More scattered racers struggled hundred yards behind. How hard was the first lap!?

Rob Bell, Mr. this is my taper exercise before Ironman next week, threw a flyer with more than 3 laps to go opening a huge gap. He smiled and waved at me like he was just warming up for the race. I marvel at the distance between gifted athletes and rest of us.

Danny stopped to re-lace a boot. Tonya stopped to remove a piece of white stuff caught in wheels. Duane and Chris’ pack was down to 3 skaters. Races seldom go according to scripts. I accompanied Danny for a few miles and saw the lead pack strolling on the other side probably going at 15 mph, toying with the people they dropped earlier.

Pro women pace line was a pretty pink blur of 4 skaters. The 2 Powerslide girls sprinted at end of lap 5 as if it was end of race. The move separated Debbie Race and a local skater; neither was able to close the gap.

_Long Distance Time Trialist in the Making
Danny was on lap 5, tapping out steady progress while the pro pack barreled down toward the finish ready to swallow everything in sight. Danny hammered and avoided being lapped by seconds.

2007 A2A 38-mile race + 49-mile cool down skate

2008-10-25T08:30:00.001-07:00

Duane and I signed up for the 38 mile event toward end of the season. We had fond memory of the smooth pavement, chain-towing puppy, missing road, and gator back from our 2003 Texas Flyer team skate. I had vague recollection of the last 49 miles: insufficient hills, rough pavement, and a lot of traffic-basically things I can find in north Texas.

My original plan was to keep Duane (aka the cardio animal) in contact with the lead pack until he finds his rhythm. Duane's mom passed away and had to cancel. My new goals became: 1. Skate hard. 2. Have fun.

Tom Welsh and I consolidated hotel reservations to keep me under budget. Tom knows way too much about boot making and equipment in general.

Only other A2A Texas Flyer this year was Danny who had all kinda car problem on the way to Georgia. H and wife Hillary came close to buy a car during the jouney.

_Expected slow start.

5 minutes into the race, the lead pack was oscillating between 18 and 23 mph. Only at A2A. I was a little star-struck in the same pack as the big names: Matzger, Arndt, Doucet, Gayle. Dan Burger wore a weird brace wrapping his left calf. After the initial set of turns, skaters started taking seemingly unnecessary chances fighting for position. Pace lines reshuffled so often it felt like a 26-mile advanced men race. Several skaters stood up and refused to be part of the chaos.

Each climb took me a little longer to recover. 20 minutes and 6.5 miles into the start, I evaluated my chances of keeping up with the big boys. I decided to shut it down and wait for the chase pack. Man, I wished I were in better shape to do this. I wished Duane were in that pack to represent us.

I didn't see anther soul for minutes ‘til a lone skater passed me stealthily. Did he want to A2A all by himself? A few minutes later, a Boston John came by and invited me in. He did the lion's share of the work; my job was to buy him recovery time and provide additional mass going downhill. I didn't see how 2 of us could fend off the big chase pack, but we skated so well together I decided just to enjoy the moment.

Mile 17, we finally got caught by the big chase pack with Brian McKenney's 80 mm wheels in it. It's good to see Brian out of retirement. The pack wasn't well organized: 2 of the skaters had big back kick and no one wanted to stay behind them. We also had a few sub-100 skaters unaccustomed to all the pushing. The long down hills made it impossible for anyone to get away. Couple skaters in the pack were panting hard after each climb. My heart rate was in zone 2 but legs were full of sour milk. Maybe they're smokers. I led the pack for a few pulls and reached 36 mph feeling the big push on my back. What a rush!

The 87 milers were supposed to wear number on the left while 38-miler on the right thigh. I didn't have much faith in this system. 2 miles to go. I still had no clear idea whom I was racing against other than Herb Gayle. Big Herb was probably already taking shower. 4 of us acted like 38 milers and looked each other. No one wanted to lead. An 87 miler laughed at us and volunteered to pull for a few minutes. 1 guy started taking the smaller circle against traffic. I followed but chickened out after the first blind curve. All the sudden he accelerated and had 10-second lead. The bastard studied the course like I was supposed to. I let him go and watched his lead grow. If I weren't fighting to win, I wasn't risking towing others to the lead. I kept track of the 2 shadows behind me while anticipating attacks from the big pack of supposedly 87-milers. I started going hard before last turn with no one to chase after.

_Long Cool Down Skate

The moment I crossed the line, I stopped caring about the result. I skated hard and felt good and tired. Off-season started now. I craved protein with salty fat. I wished there were an all-you-can-eat restaurant at finish line. I'd been hungry for 2 months.

The reality of 2.5 hr bus wait started to sink in. Hillary told me Danny should be in Dacula real soon. "Good. Did he pack any bacon?" I wanted to ask her.

9:55am.

The Atlanta bound bus would leave at 12:30p; it's probably 1-hour drive. 49 miles at 13 mph was <>

I made rules for my Georgian edition of Pegasus Sunday Morning Stroll: no drafting, no hammering, must have fun. Several small packs asked me to join in; only 1 skater begged when I politely declined to be part of the Collective. It had been a long time since I skated just to enjoy the scenery. I took my time rolling the hills among the trees. The sky contained just right number of clouds. I was surprised to see so many streets without "peachtree" as part of their names.

_Sunday Afternoon Stroll

Mile 55. Left frame came loose. I didn't pack that wrench. "Why did I buy carbon frames with weird size axle bolt!?" I decided to adopt the presidential foreign policy: "ignore the problem; it'll go away."

Miles 60. I was in a bush as the direct result of taking the hot weather advice when a smiling Christina skated by. She claimed to be suffering when walking the grass on a hill. We passed each other a few more times due to my failed attempts to rectify my frame issue. She eventually won the 52-mile race.

Climbing became difficult around mile 65. I had no leg left after Silver Hill. The pavements were as rough as I remembered but with more inclines. At some points I hopped on and off the curbs looking for smooth surface and prayed the mounting bolt would hold. But I was in no rush. I got good looks of the stores and buildings that were a big blur in 2003. I missed my team.

I highfived Eddy who skated toward the start. The pavement turned nice for the final miles. A few skaters passed me shouting encouraging words. I had no urge to chase. The park came into view. I heard cowbells. I heard Cindy announcing the finishers. She's so nice.

The big clock said 6 hour something. I don't remember.

Brian and Renee sat on grass, looking comfortable and well rested.

_Nice Day at the Park

I think a few people came to say hi, but hunger overtook me and I don't have clear recollection of the event right after crossing the line. I consuming sandwiches and sugar water. At least 2 of those guys warned my frame was making weird clicking sound.

_Flyer Sighting

Hillary, whom I saw through out the day, came over and said Danny was doing well at their last meeting. Another skater also told me my teammate was skating relaxed and confident.

Danny came in, arms swinging, looking great. His wife got the camera out just in time for a clear shot of the other side. Danny might have to skate the course again just for the photo. I was so proud and happy for our boy. 87 is a tough distance, especially considering his short preparation.

Many skaters remembered the 2003 TX Flyer team. A skater actually thanked me for the draft from 4 yrs ago.

3pm, still no sign of my skate bag. No shoes, no cell phone, no problem. The hotel was paid for and I had the ID to fly home. I was surprised how little it bothered me. I checked into the hotel Duane booked. It had an indoor lap pool with hot tub. This was the best day.

_Award Ceremony

Our Austin friend Richard Littrell relaxed on grass, looking much better than his 2003 finish. Shortly before the 6pm awards, the last skater completed his 10-hour adventure. I went over to congratulate him. He attempted to raise his right hand. I patted his back, admiring his determination.

My skate bag miraculously appeared with my shoes in it. It felt good to be out of skates. I talked to old friends and made new ones. Danny and Hillary were all smiles. The world was perfect.

The Toronto skaters dominated the day. Stream of familiar faces claimed their awards. Mostly I saw many tireless people devote a big part of their lives to make this event possible. I was grateful.

2007 Hotter n Hell 100

2008-10-25T08:27:00.000-07:00

Inline Skating the Hotter'n Hell 100 Wichita Falls, Texas

Hotter'n Hell 100 is the biggest bike ride in Texas. To finish full distance, the rider needs to get to Hell's Gate at mile 60 before cut off.

In zone 2, I skate 14 mph on smooth pavement, 9 mph on rough, and 7 mph on the really rough with fresh legs. Mathematically, I need to average 12 mph to make the gate.

Below is my event report:

HHH 2007

Unfinished Business

In 2002 the Texas Flyers canceled the Hotter n Hell team trip due to long stretches of unskateable chip n seal. I fantasized skating the 100-mile route that weekend. 2005, Duane expressed his opinion that skate wheels would barely roll even on the smoother chip n seal. I ignored it because he banged his head against the pavement that day. Don volunteered to support on bike if I ever skate the full distance.

2007 was the 3^rd time I skated Hotter n Hell: Coyoted 50 miles in 2003; 100k with 100 mm wheels in 2006 averaging 12 mph not including long rest stops. Beating Hell’s Gate seemed impossible given the 40+ min it took to cross the start line. I abandoned the 102-mile skate idea and concentrated on triathlon. I obsessed skating HHH again after reading Karnases’ “Ultramarathon Man.”

Unprepared

I start skating in July this year and didn’t feel ready for the full distance. I decided this would be a recon for HHH 2008; I would go as far as I could to learn the route and my body. Based on last year’s experience, I didn’t have a realistic chance without practice skating rough road. I thought the day was likely to end after 80 miles and/or in SAG wagon. I budgeted for new frames and bigger wheels for 2008.

Got Around the Long Delay

The day didn’t start well. I crashed at mile 0 tripped over the same stupid 1-inch curb that got me in 2003. I began my skate 5 minutes and 1 block before the official start to avoid the normal 40-minute delay. The first 11 miles were spent in cyclists’ slipstreams before the chip n seal. I skated slow and skinny on the edge of the road watching thousands of bikes flew by. On the short stretches of the smooth pavement, I drafted behind bikes. “You miss the 25-mile turn, didn’t you?” I couldn’t tell if the guy was joking. “No, I’m only doing 10k.”

Long Day

The road surface turned very hairy after the 2^nd rest stop. Like last year, I pushed hard only to maintain 9 mph. Mile 23, Phil caught me on bike. I told him not to slow down; I didn’t wanting him to miss the adjustable gate time again.

Good surface appeared at mile 26. I hid behind cyclists, continuously upgrading to wider riders. Many was surprised a “blader” could keep up. We rolled into a residential area with black ice. I stayed with cyclists at 25 mph. Beating the gate seemed trivial at this speed. Maybe I overestimated the difficulty? That’s before the road turned rough again. I applied every trick I knew to hold the momentum: high cadence, hopping, short strokes, arm swing, toeing. It became clear I couldn’t power my way through all the chip n seal. I obeyed my heart rate monitor and tried to ignore the dropping speed.

I rolled into mile-54 rest stop at 11:40. I needed 18 mph to meet the noon deadline; unthinkable under the condition. 100-mile skate would wait ‘til 2008. I held 11 mph ‘til the dread Highway 44 at mile 58. My legs decided to quit fighting the incline. It was a small consolation finding cyclists also had difficulties. Imagine my surprise to learn the gate actually closed at 12:30pm! I skated through Hell’s Gate at 12:12pm, 8/25 2007.

The elation didn’t last long. I bonked and had 40 miles to go. I struggled on the endless chip n seal and helplessly watched the speed drop to single digit. Some cyclists finally believed I was serious about skating 100 miles. The smart-donkey comments turned into encouraging words.

Mile 74. One marathon to go. The hills seemed frequent and long. Funny I had no recollection of any hills from biking the route in 2005. My left leg gave out on the slanted road; I struggled to hold 8 mph pushing mostly from the right. Then sky darkened with lightning; the wind materialized in the wrong direction. GPS said 5.4 mph. I watched the heart rate approaching double digit and briefly considered running ‘til the road turn smoother or ‘til skate muscles wake up, but I’d never run barefoot carrying 10-lb load and wasn’t confident I could put the skates back on without a chair.

The SAG wagon made continuous trips between the finish and last of 100-miler. It circled me quicker and quicker like a vulture. I actively looked for reasons to get on the inviting flatbed: dehydration, dizziness, anything, but I felt exceedingly healthy except legs that refused to skate. With each pass the volunteers returned my thumbs up and drove on while I was in insufficient trouble.

Mile 89. Chip n seal ended. The body slowly adjusted to rolling again. I passed the spot where Duane’s Atmos went to the big helmet ranch in the sky. I settled into zone 2 at 17 mph. The cyclists cheered me on as I flew by the last rest stop along a downhill at mile 96; we passed each other repeatedly and felt like old friends.

Mile 98. The beer break. The locals who hosted this unofficial stop believed beer was an excellent hydration beverage for century rides. I had a good time with these exceedingly friendly people but moved on when an overly happy gentleman started the process of showing his tattoo.

It was well over 9 hours by the time I made the final turn. I expected an empty street with vendors packing booths but heard my name over the PA and found friends waiting when I crossed the finish line. It was beyond cool.

Post Race

One downside of such late finish was inability to meet with all the friends to swap stories. After posing for people who wanted photos with the crazy rollerblader, I sat down with Donna and Roger and learned about Duane’s awesomeness, Roger’s first century, Mike’s crash, Robert’s IV, and 25-mile skaters. Still think it would be way cool if Tanisha towed the baby trailer using her custom aero bike. Riders I met on the route invited me for beers next to their camper, followed by a big dinner with frozen margarita at Cheddar’s. Life was good.

I woke up next morning hungry and with sore feet but felt well enough to Wii with my hosts after donuts. Andrea, who recovered quicker from her 102-mile bike ride, knocked me out boxing.

Duane, you were right; 100 mm wheels don’t roll good on them roads.

#’s

course length: 102 miles
total time: 9:48
wheels torn up: 3
blisters broken: 1
avg heart rate: 146
energy burned: 6508 cal
liquid consumed: 390 oz, including 20 oz of pickle juice
gel: 9 packs
fruit snack (60 cal): 5 packs
misc food:

4 bananas,
1 Clif bar,
1 Clif block,
1 Powerbar,
4 salt capsules,
8 Sport Leg,
8 Gummy Vites

goodies in the survival backpack:

5 sandwich bags, each with 1 salt tablet, 2 Sport Leg, 2 Gummy Vites, 1 Gu, 1 fruit snack
4 spare wheels with bearings and spacers
1 empty spare 20 oz Gatorade bottle w/ Accelerade powder
2 spare caps for Gatorade bottle
skate tools
cell phone
sun block
2 zip loc bag for ice

2007 Ironman CDA

2008-10-25T07:51:00.000-07:00

Ironman the Journey

I looked at the freshly opened gel pack: is it gonna make me puke or save me from meltdown? My lower back ached at mile 7. 19.2 miles go to. This Ironman thing was hard.

"Midlife Crisis. I can't afford a Porsche."

"Lost a bet."

"Can't find Tour de France on active.com."

I have stock answers to my motivation because I don't know how to describe the reason in under 14 seconds.

In 2000 my brother lost 16% of his body weight in a month. Untreated diabetes can be aggressive. Words like nephropathy were no longer just medical terms to us. ChihYang's weight stabilized weeks after the first correct diagnosis, and the body betrayed at a slower pace. He started running. Exercise and proper diet were 2 of the few things within his control. Muscle cramps made sleeping through the night a rare treat. He increased his running distances. The infant daughter was counting on him.

I told my only brother to build up endurance so we could do Ironman. I didn't think it through; it just seemed like the right thing to say at the time. I was ignorant of triathlon but remembered the Julie Moss 1982 TV clip. I spent the next few days wishing the Ironman promise away.

2003: Endurance

A2A inline skate was my "A" event of the year. For the first time in my life I settled into a regular routine and happily caved to the team pressure and attended every practice. Skating was the centerpiece of my days. 87-mile hill skating with a team was a highlight of my life. We crossed the finish line hand in hand after a tough day in Georgian hills.

I wanted to race as a pro master in a couple of years. I'd retire from Cat-1 racing around 2015 and learn to swim and run during end of my inline career. I'd participate in Ironman around the year ChihYang turn 50.

ChihYang reported his running milestones: 5k, 10k, half, marathon. He gained enough weight that he looked like those Kenyan runners in event photos. I was so proud. I planned to run my first marathon around 2013, maybe.

2004: Yoga as a Competitive Sport

I was prone to lower back spasm due to a spine injury that happened while preparing for the 1990 Maryland 9-ball Open. I assumed yoga would help. 5 days into 2004, I herniated a disc attempting a pose in the cold studio. Instead of training to race A2A, I spent 6 months avoiding the knife. The road to pro racing ended here.

I sought various treatments, some less painful than others. I started limping in May. I lost control over my life when I couldn't sleep for more than 2 hrs. Confidence was the next thing to go. I went to work at 5am for not knowing what else to do. I was convinced I'd lose my job every time I met with customers. I finally went against the therapists' advice and started interviewing surgeons.

I was overwhelmed by all the tests and paper work. "I just want my life back" I wanted to scream.

I limped badly by this time. I had vague recollections of racing up hills a lifetime ago. Lying on the cold operating table, I dreaded qualifying for the good parking spaces. The surgery went as the surgeon predicted, including not fully regaining ankle strength. I was touched by teammates' and friends' support during recovery. Most of them avoided asking whether I could return to the sport. My teammate Chris won the race I wanted that year; I congratulated him but didn't know how to feel.

After 3-months post-op, the surgeon told me I could go back to all the activities slowly, except running.

"But I promised to do Ironman." I protested like a child.

Dr. Peloza explained the possibility of re-injury and that I'd be a good candidate for the artificial disc soon to be approved by the FDA. "It wouldn't be end of the world, but we advise our patients not to run."

I caught Ironman (IM) Kona on TV while riding on the bike trainer. Between Bowflex and "Fear Factor" commercials, Sarah Reinertsen calmly talked about the amputation but lost her cool when recalling exclusion from neighborhood soccer games. I watched her struggle on bike missing a knee. She missed the cutoff. I cried with her.

ChihYang added bike and swim to his routine.

2005: Developed Strong Feelings Toward Stem Cell Research

After 6-months post op, I oscillated between celebration for the freedom to sleep and self-pity from lost opportunities. I decided I would go back to inline racing when my calf regained its size. Lance Armstrong beat cancer; I could overcome a stupid weak joint. I kept crashing. The therapist told me wrist surgery would be a certainty if I couldn't avoid falling.

The neurologist stuck tiny needles into my calf and pointed to the monitor on the other end of the wire. He proudly diagnosed, "Ah, here's the problem. You see, it's not firing right...."

"What can I do about it?"

He hesitated, "Some people find it helpful to take vitamin B-12"

"How much would that help?"

He decided to be blunt and told me my ankle was likely a lost cause. Speed skating was not a high priority when evolution designed the fault-tolerant system. After co-pay, I noticed the habitual lift on the left shoe to mask limping. I looked at the blue parking space and practiced the it-could-be-worse comforting method; I thought of Christopher Reeve.

ChihYang hated his diet, blood tests, and insulin shots. One day we talked about the time he competed in a noodle-eating contest. He encouraged me to eat whatever I wanted because I had the gift of being non-diabetic.

I watched 2005 IM Kona and saw an elated Sarah finished the 112-mile bike with time to spare. She put on the thing that didn't resemble a foot and bounced off like a happy bird. I wanted to marry her.

I went to the last skate race of the season to play domestique and crashed at the finish line.

ChihYang ran his first 100k. An MD volunteer followed him with a blood glucose meter and poked a new hole on the finger every 15k. I wanted to kiss the doctor's feet.

2006: Triathlon

Biff from the Texas Flyers called on a Wednesday in May.

"Johnny, Tanisha got a comp spot for the Sunday triathlon, you up to it?"

"I can't swim."

"Neither can I, but it's only 400 meters."

Living in a country where 9 mm bullet was the only common reference to metric system, I had no clear concept of 400-meter swim, but it would be a cool story if it involved a Baywatch-style rescue.

"Sure, what the hell."

I struggled through the swim using breaststrokes, dog paddle-like. I proudly passed 72-year-old Wilson Cozby who didn't look a day over 60. I counted 11 bikes at Transition 1 (T1) and decided I'd pass 100 bikes in 10 minutes. I went all out, oblivious to the uneven downtown pavement. I hit a pothole while gulping Cytomax and landed on my head and shoulders. The helmet made a cool sound against pavement.

"Doo doo, I broke my collar bone."

"Yes, it ain't broken."

"Good thing I'm wearing the old Pneumo, not the shiny Atmos!"

I got back on bike and marveled at my arrogance and cheapness. I tried to get the bloody side into the frame when I saw the event photographer. I finished the race and celebrated having 2 unbroken clavicles.

ChihYang, who medaled in collegiate breaststroke events, hired a coach to learn freestyle. Months later, he declared his breaststroke was still faster.

After weeks of treatments on my wrist, spine, and ankle, I asked my 3rd highly recommended therapist when to expect measurable improvements. She said bunch words reminiscent of Thighmaster infomercial but didn't offer money back guarantee. I gave up when the insurance ran out. After decades of practice, I would never swing nunchucks again. No more Wing Chun. No more axe kick. Life was about limitations and acceptance. Good thing Riverdancing wasn't part of my career plan.

Biff called,

"Johnny, I'm marrying Tanisha and need to be an Ironman, you up to it?"

"I can't swim."

"Neither can I, but it's only 2.4 miles."

"Sure, what the hell."

Actually, I don't remember how Biff talked me into bringing forward my IM date. Or was it Tanisha who convinced me by her 2007 Ironman Coeur d’Alene plan:

"Aren't you pregnant?"

She conjectured 3 months was sufficient between C-section and the 140.6-mile event.

ChihYang completed Ironman Kenting in Taiwan. I was proud and envious. I started my IM prep in October: swim lesson, 24-Hour Fitness membership and White Rock Marathon registration.

"9 months is plenty of time to train," Biff assured me.

Swim Lesson

By far my most received advice on swimming was "relax, you'll float."

I initially didn't understand how muscle contraction would change body density but concluded it's possible that relaxation could induce gas hence increase volume and lower overall density therefore promote buoyancy. I never mastered the Taco Bell technique.

In the class I followed the front crawl instruction and ended up ingesting a large quantity of chlorinated water. I felt like the synchronized swimmer Martin Short played in Saturday Night Live.

The instructor got tired of my whining:

"Here, hold your body like this, keep your face up, breath normally," he demonstrated, not looking relaxed.

I copied his posture and sank like a rock.

"Wow, you really don't float."

Why didn't we do this test 5 gallons ago?

"What you really need is boobs" a classmate commented helpfully.

I settled on an asymmetric freestyle. I also learned a less laughable version of breaststroke and managed to swim a whole mile by end of 2006. Bilateral breathing and floating eventually came with a wetsuit.

White Rock Marathon, December 2006

Armstrong's New York Marathon story inspired me to train minimally. It's important to stay injury free. ChihYang recommended not running the whole 42 k. I figured 6-hour was a good target. I just needed to be convinced that the spine could take the pounding.

I enlisted another marathon virgin, Mark, to run the Rock together. A few weeks before the event, we learned Oprah ran a 4.5-hour marathon. Our friend Karla thought Oprah was the most perfect human in history, but Mark and I no longer considered it cool to go slower than 4:29:20.

The anticipation at the start line was awesome. Everyone wanted to take off on this 40-degree day. I was pumped and briefly considered sprinting off the line to get on TV. People cheered along the way. "Johnny Be Good," cheered a stranger waving a Mexican flag who had gotten my name off the race number. I felt like a celebrity. I ran with the 3:40 pace balloon at mile 15. I felt relaxed and comfortable. This running thing was easy.

I stopped briefly for a Tanisha hug at the Clif tent at mile 19, adjacent to the well-advertised Hooter Zone. Then I hit the legendary wall.

"Marathon is 20 miles of hope and 6 miles of reality." The GPS swung wildly between 9 and 16 minute-mile. I saw the same Mexican flag guy, "Johnny don't quit." Even he knew I was in trouble. I managed to finish in 4 hours. Mark was also able to check "beat a talk show host's marathon time" off his list.

Thank you, Oprah.

I found numerous detailed triathlon training schedules. I opted for a simple and ad-hoc heuristic: swim 3 times a week, run at least once, and bike when I get the chance. Biff advised, "don't train other people's training." The goal was to finish. No need to complicate things.

Half Iron, April 2007

My goals for the half distance event were making the swim cutoff and gauging amount of fuel my body could take. I optimistically assumed everything else would fall into place.

It was a cold and windy morning. I took a few strokes at my first open water swim, looked up, and saw I was 30 degrees off the line. I freaked out. Everything was foreign: cold water, constricting outfit, choppy waves. The HRM wouldn't stop beeping. I tried to peek ahead between strokes like on instructional DVD and tasted the canal water. 1 minute after the gun, I thought of abandoning the event. Then I realized the new wetsuit was doing its job. I breaststroked the rest of the way and had my fastest 1.2-mile swim. It felt like I got away with something.

I took my time at T1. I wanted to celebrate surviving the swim and was looking for a football to spike against the ground. I ate and drank and took pictures for and with the spectators.

I followed Biff's advice of taking it easy on the bike and caught Biff with 4 miles to go on the run. He went too hard on bike. Biff and I discussed nutrition and training and completed the half-distance event together on this beautiful windy day.

I was hungry after the 7-hour race. I ate a tofu pot at 3pm, 7 lbs. of crawfish, then a full vegi rice dinner. The HRM said I burned 4555 cal, which is consistent with the estimate that IM takes about 10000 cal. Kobayashi ate 53.75 hotdogs; I should have no problem with 100 gels.

I felt good about my chance for the full distance as long as I didn't find out Oprah Ironman'd in 13 hours. Karla approved that Oprah influenced my life.

I debated whether to hire a swim coach.

"Don't worry about your swim skill. It's too late." ChihYang told me. He was particularly unimpressed with my 14:33 T1.

Biff and Tanisha made me practice open water swimming and introduced me to Aqua Sphere; I learned swimming was even more possible when I could see. The couple showed me bike course photos and altitude maps 4 weeks before CDA. I panicked. I took the bike out of the house only twice in 2007. I swapped in a 27t cassette and shopped for wheels that were more technically advanced than stealth bombers and cost nearly as much. I peeled off jetstream's sticker to save weight and pondered over scientific questions:

How many grams would shaving save?
Do I really need both eyebrows?
Are there rules against riding naked?

Iron Man Coeur d'Alene (IMCDA), June 24, 2007

Swim

Contrary to common sense, the sky seemed bigger from Coeur d'Alene Lake.

The weather was less than ideal, and the organizer offered athletes a way out: skip the swim and do an official duathlon. Biff and I stood at the back amongst other aqua-challenged triathletes like a bunch hesitant emperor penguins. No one wanted the Iron Chicken option. Short of an Australian shark or toothpick fish, I was going in. I felt tremors of foreboding. I was so not ready for this.

The cannon blasted. Thousands of arms and legs propelled. I stayed at the edge of the madness consuming gallons of 52-degree water, unable to time the waves.

Life was all roses when I was entering T1 with 13 minutes to spare. The challenge was half over! The shiver started after the wetsuit came off. The volunteers urged me into the hot tub. I sat helplessly waiting for feelings to return and wondered what ChihYang would say about another double-digit T1 time.

Bike

This was a gorgeous Idaho day. I pedaled with 2100 of my best friends supported by 3500 volunteers. I held my heart rate steady. Gotta save it for the run.

Much of the 112-mile ride was mind and cheek numbing: no teammate to lean on; no wheel to suck. My feet were locked into 19.7-lbs. of mechanical contraption rolling on the endless pavement; the pavement didn't care what my story was.

I carelessly tried to rectify a damaged bottle cage and ended up crashing at mile 20. I got off with a scraped elbow, a giant headache, a ripped jersey, damaged shifters, and an impacted helmet. The Ironman bills continued to mount.

The 2^nd loop: Microhammering was allowed. I lost control and went up the first hills like a madman. The quads turned rubbery. I was paying for the training decision made 7 months ago. I shifted to granny gear and resumed the low heart rate cruise.

I saw athletes walking their bikes, not giving up. I felt their determination. The artificial limbs on the course were even more humbling.

A wave of relief swept over me at the dismount line. No more mechanical concerns, no more postage-stamp sized seats, no more crashes. A shower and pizza were only a marathon away.

Run

I walked the first section of course while going through the feedbag: exotic carbs and acids consisted of a bunch of syllables I couldn't pronounce. Real athletes have no simple all-in-1 solutions like Beefcake 2000.

I struggled to hold 12:30 pace. A real runner sleepwalked at this speed. Why couldn't triathlon consist of 3 sports I were good at like skating, pool, and whining?

My running legs returned by mile 2. I fantasized about a comfortable marathon. The bubble was burst at mile 6. Hunger set in. An empty feeling crept throughout my veins. I craved a 72 oz. porterhouse and an Idaho potato with butter and extra bacon. Mostly I wanted to stop. The air temperature dropped with the sun. I tried moving faster to generate body heat. My legs didn't want to go at all. I visualized the pizza at the finish line, which felt further away as I passed each mile marker.

The roadside was littered with runners bending their limbs to work out cramps. A few bent over unable to hold fuel.

"Johnny, you look great!" The couple I met at the 4^th Street pho restaurant shouted from the sideline. "I feel great!" I shouted back. I didn't feel great and didn't know how much longer I could keep this up. The wife climbed over the concrete barrier and gave me a bear hug. "You'll make it." They could always tell when I lied.

Like a faithful friend, the wall waited for me at mile 18. The 90-90 rule: "first 90% of the distance takes 90% of effort; the next 9% distance requires another 90%." Would this day ever end? The 17-hour deadline now seemed merciful. It was disheartening seeing all the people wrapped in silver blankets reduced to a painful walk. I was on the verge of joining them. I reminded myself how insignificant my obstacles were compared to what Team Hoyt overcame.

Mile 23. Every muscle contraction was a miracle. Spectators shouted encouraging words; I fed off their good will. I found freedom at the edge of cracking. My past and future no longer mattered. My life was about getting to the next mile marker. All over my body, I felt alive.

Did I feel alive despite of or because of pain? But it ain't about pain. The spectators didn't know who I was, but perhaps sensed each of the suffering fools dedicated his body to pursue a promise and a dream.

I thought about ChihYang as a patient, a father, an ultra runner, and an Ironman. I knew he would stay strong for his family: diet, run, dialysis, whatever it takes. I wished my big brother were next to me to share some of his courage.

I heard the crowd roar. I sensed my shoes moving. I saw the finish, the line with mythical power to inspire.

I didn't want to cross.

2004 Texas Road Rash: last race before spine surgery

2008-10-25T07:49:00.000-07:00

I started out telling an upbeat story about how Tiff and Mike came back after a difficult start. Somehow it became the most self-indulgent writing I'd done.

Racing in the Hill Country. Road Rash. March 28, 2004

The day started a bit gray, one big cloud in the sky. Some of the cloud came down to the well-planned course. It would be a beautiful day with racers taking the turns holding butts extra low.

I hadn't skated for over a week. I was here on doctor's grudging consent. He made it clear my muscles aren't up to competitive skating, but he also believed stopping activities was the worst thing for a spine patient. "Just don't lose balance. You'll be OK." Easy for him to say.

Eddy must have sensed my desperation when we last met. He wrote on a piece of paper "don't give up the dream."

I anxiously waited for the gun at the start. I didn't know how my body would react. I didn't want to find out. There was no time or racer I tried to beat. I didn't know if I could finish. Last time I stood at the start so ambiguously was on 1992 Rollerblade Lightening.

Richard said something over the PA system. I didn't hear him. But I remembered how he finished A2A by sheer determination. I needed some of his courage. Suddenly legs started moving; arms flew. I followed my teammates who helped me through the gentle Georgian hills.

Pace lines formed. Pace lines broke. Everyone wanted the same spots; no one got it. I watched my teammates working together negotiating the course from the back of the lead pack. I had no problem keeping up; I was all fast-twitch muscles. I saw feet moving quickly with frames coming close to each other. I saw Mike's knee bent unnaturally. I froze. I saw Mike set down on the ground. I saw a skater hurdle over him in slow motion. Our coach was not supposed to go down.

Every red-yellow jersey hesitated. Everyone pressed on. Tiffany was left behind, wanting no more to do with the hungry pack. I made her skate behind me. Today would be a success if I could bring my gifted friend back to the race.

I pulled Tiff into the wind. I tried to be steady. I tried to stride evenly. I sensed a drag on my right frame then heard the scrapping sound. I was sick to my stomach. Tiffany went down. She got up; we pushed on. I saw a pack in front of us, and my job was delivering my teammate to that pack. I wasn't as studly as I'd hoped, so she had to share a lot of work, but Tiff eventually bridged the gap, and I was happy. I rested.

I strolled along the windy highway alone, waiting for the next pack to pick me up. Tom and Patricia came.

I was amused to see how much speed Tom lost at every corner. I prompted the workhorse on the mechanics of going right; he caught on quickly. The more he learned, the more Pat struggled. It was weirdly entertaining and rewarding.

Tom suddenly skated away. He had steady strides and didn't care who's behind him. He looked great. I barely pull him back using dangerously long strokes going downhill. My double push blew the pack apart at Long Beach, now it's only good for keeping up with an inexperienced skater who couldn't turn. I have an illness that the best I can hope for is slowness in deterioration. It doesn't matter how flexible or strong I get. My back muscles would seize up every time its load crosses the threshold. I was angry with my body.

I imagined the lead pack negotiating the same wet pavement. I imaged Duane trying to keep up with the sudden acceleration and cursing. I thought about how I would never race among the pro lead pack. I told many Pegasus Flyers it ain't about the speed. Now I was having problem dealing with losing power. I'm such a hypocrite.

I continued to struggle. I was on the verge of slipping that would lead to weeks of funny walking. I remembered the pain of putting on the left sock in January mornings. I was afraid. I wanted to quit. My condition is a mild form of handicap that doesn't even qualify for good parking spaces. Reducing activities would promote losing more mobility. I couldn't quit. I desperately hanged on to my technique. I desperately hanged on to Tom.

I saw Scarlett. She hid behind some bigger Pegasus Flyer, bending over, Tiffany-like. She held her form and tapped out steady rhythm. She's so cool. She smiled at me.

I told Tom when to back off and hide in the slipstream. I told Tom to look for spots to attack. I wasn't going to beat a teammate by withholding information.

My left leg went numb. I tried to hold the speed using one and half legs. I double pushed. I used the technique I finally acquired after years of obsessing. I barely kept up with Tom's 100-mm wheels. I wanted his symmetry. I went through each stroke hoping the leg would do what I think it should.

I expected darkness or enlightenment at the edge of cracking; instead, I found freedom. My past and future no longer mattered. I just needed to make it to the top of the hill. I concentrated on my strides. I carefully contracted my muscles. My life became a smashing success--ampersand, set down, hook, roll, push, recovery. I celebrated over 30 victories per minute. I didn't think about what got me there or where I was going. I felt a primordial urge for motion. I was moving. I was content.

I saw Renee, hurt, dropped, alone. We picked her up right before the turn into headwind. I concentrated on my set down. Every landing had to be right; my fatigued muscles couldn't afford any slip.

Tom accelerated. I searched for the gear to follow. I found none. I lost my fast feet. I saw Tom pulling away. I was proud and envious of him. I was confused why I wasn't more bitter.

Tiffany popped out of nowhere. She hugged and thanked me. I vaguely recalled helping her a lifetime ago before I was wrapped up in my own feelings. I remembered Mike went down and was relieved to find he stealthily passed me and kicked my butt by a huge margin.

My back finally locked up in Duane's car on the way to motel. I was terrified. I didn't want another 6 weeks of pain. I tried to breath. I tried not to freak out. I lied on the dirty motel carpet 'til the tension went away.

I tried to keep my spirit up at the award ceremony, but I didn't care about my race. It seemed so far away. I didn't bother checking my time. I was lost. I mechanically walked up for my medal and was woken up by the cheers. I remembered I loved the sport and the people. "It ain't about how fast you go," I used to tell them. They were sitting there, with their first marathon still fresh in their mind.

We went to Chuy's for lunch, where Lance Armstrong got fat after giving up racing. It was fun listening to Renee, Tiffany and Kim compare scars and injury stories. I forgot what I ate. I enjoyed the company.

I got in Duane's car and adjusted the passenger seat to perfection. For next 3 hours he would educate me further on life, universe, and women. What was the line from the movie, "Tomorrow is another day" or "I don't give a damn"? I don't remember. I was full, tired, and a little drunk. I'd just enjoy the ride and maybe take a nap. I had a good workout that morning.

2003 A2A Ultra Inline

2008-10-25T07:47:00.001-07:00

Athens 2 Atlanta 87-mile team skate

Skating 87 miles of Georgian gentle rolling hills seemed like an unreachable dream at the end of half-distance 1999 A2A. I was happy with my 11.3 mph. Actually, I didn't care about the speed; I was just glad I didn't get on the SAG wagon when my legs really wanted to. I also remember some faces come up the last hill before Dacula. They reminded me of patients passing kidney stones. How could a normal human do another 38?

_The Dream
The impossibility made it a cool challenge. I told Jack Neal I'd do the full distance with him the year he turns 60. I imagined I'd roll in Piedmont Park around dusk with all kinda foot and muscle pains, and I would understand why people cried at end of Iron Man. I hoped I would be in time to watch Jack claim his age group prize. But I thought the more likely outcome was I'd send him an email in March and say I couldn't train because of work.

3 layoffs and 4 years later, I became a more dedicated skater. I committed to skate A2A with Jack and other TX Flyers. I was skeptical about the team approach: I couldn't imagine Mike and Chris Ritter slow down enough to skate with us mortals. But I had nothing to lose; it beats my original plan of trying to hang on to my 60-year-old friend for as long as I can.

_The Preparation
The team made everything easy. I didn't have to worry about when and where to train. I had a team to practice going down the hill with only 1 person with clear view of the road. I was forced to train at low heart rate. I figured out how much fluid I need per hour and how much food I could tolerate. The only thing we didn't go over was how to pee, which I learned from Eddy.

Brenda took care of all the details: training and travel schedules, flights, hotels, van rental, restaurants, and even supermarkets. All I did was showing up and whining about having to get up early. 9-time participant Fred flew to the event just to support the team.

_Pre-race Dinner
I was a little down Saturday night at Chilli's, where I had pre-race dinner with Jack in 99. Jack's training this year didn't go well. He abandoned the race after 4 years of anticipation. Duane was ill and wasn't breathing too well. I felt weak from sleep deprivation. Then the rain came.

I was determined to skate the next day, regardless of the weather. Heck, I have short legs. I'm genetically blessed to make sharp left turn at bottom of the hill, puckered or otherwise. All I need is a healthy back in the morning.

_Athens
I was ecstatic to see the dry road Sunday morning.

The start line was the most relaxed of all major events. There was no 20-min team warm up. No one practiced the final sprint. People just skated around greeting each other. No one fought too hard for position after the gun went off. After some gentle pushing and shoving, we got our red and yellow pace line.

_Easy First Miles
It didn't take too long before we started to pass others, especially going downhill. Our long tight train was much faster than the small packs. Several skaters kept passing us going uphill and were quickly swallowed. Gravity of many, wind resistance of one. This was fun!

Everyone was fresh and stable. We enjoyed the weather and scenery. We were a chatty bunch.

Chris Ritter and Mike worked so well together pulling the pack many skaters gave up out-skating us and just joined our pack parasitically. A few didn't feel right sucking our wheels and went to the front and offered to pull. We didn't care if other skaters use us to save energy. Our objective was to finish the event safely as a team; the time and placement were secondary.

_Pucker Hill
At some point we had a pace line of 40+ various bright color shirts hanging off 12 red-yellow jerseys. Awesome sight. I was in the 12th position going down BP Hill. I opened 5 feet in front of me then sneakily sprinted to close the gap to shake off the attachment. The lead skater of the new pace line didn't quite know how to react to the sudden wind resistance and the sharp left turn; his line went into pieces. It was a rare chance for me to try these little team tactics without worrying being dropped by the pack. It was great.

_Little Puppy on a 20-foot Chain
Many cars greeted the skaters with hand waves employing variable number of fingers. A few dogs also greeted us enthusiastically as we roll by their homes. One rottweiller came close to the road, barking. What a cute little puppy!

"It's OK, he's on a chain." Someone said reassuringly.

Next thing I knew we had the most unsafe looking animal in Georgia running next to us dragging a 20-foot chain. He skillfully cut through the pace line and played chicken with an oncoming Buick. The canine won! He was unable to keep up after a few more minutes and dropped out of sight. Everyone gave a sigh of relief. Or maybe he stopped chasing only for celebration dance after the victory over car.

Like Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction," the beast reappeared out of nowhere, not looking particularly pleased. I wanted his recovery speed. The 2nd stalking didn't last as long. Perhaps he didn't find just the right calf to sink his teeth into. Maybe he was already full from eating a skater from the lead pack.

Hopefully the puppy found his way home.

_Bonk Alert
Some of our teammates got weak. We shuffled the team members around for better positioning. Biff fell off the pack briefly, but we didn't drop our teammates that easily. He was hurting but was determined to hang on.

_Brief Encounter w/ FL Pegasus Flyer
We caught our Florida friend Paul on a short steep climb. He didn't have sufficient momentum to catch up to our pack but went on to win his age group. You da man, Paul.

_Steeplechase
I've skated some rough roads, but this is the first time I skate a race with actually break on the course. Due to some efficient bureaucratic communication (example of sarcasm), a small section of the course had no surface. Everyone rolled slowly on the 1-foot wide concrete, tip-toed over rocks and mud, then climb over concrete barriers covered with blankets.

Later we heard Eddy's pack just ran over the mud.

_Dacula
Soon we reached the town I always mispronounced and was famous for a pumpkin story in newspaper. 10 of us cheered on as our 38-miler crossed the half distance finish line. I was so proud of them knowing how hard Biff worked to come this far and seeing how Tonya conquered the hills.

_Into 3 rd Quarter
Critter and Mike continued to pull. We passed and picked up skaters. All the sudden I heard a small pack coming fast from behind and thought maybe Eddy overslept. It was the 52-mile lead pack. They looked fast. They looked skinny.

Duane continued to do well and showed signs of breathing. Jason and Little Chris seemed recovered from helping Biff earlier. Tiffany and Brenda still looked strong. Everyone was comfortable in their places and started chatting again. It was a social skate on the gentle rolling hills. It's also obvious all legs are a little tired from the climbs.

One problem we did not have was direction. Brenda would use her cut up map and shout out the turns and distances from the back. The lead skaters look for street signs. Rest of us just concentrated on skating. We had motorcycle police escort for a long stretch, which helped tremendously. Another perk of going with a large team.

_Unscheduled Stop
The unthinkable happened. Our king of mountain, who probably has red polka dot tattooed on his torso, got severe cramp. After a brief rest, he continued to skate with a little help from teammates. At some points we were sure we'd reach Piedmont Park with a missing man, but we got through the remaining gentle hills together. Not letting Dave go is my proudest team achievement. Thanks for hanging on, Dave.

We also earned the right to make fun of him until the A2A 2004.

_50-mile Stop
Fred, Tonya, and Biff waited for us with each skater's feedbag on the curb. David sat down with obvious pain trying to consume everything with potassium. We swapped water containers, loaded more energy food and resumed with what we though was sufficient supply. Only 37 miles to go. I thought rest of the trip would be easy as long as Duane's lungs and Dave's legs continue to move.

_Challenges
I learned to climb by trying to keep up with Dave. It's only logical that my quads started to give out too. I kept up with the group but was unable to help others.

Coach Mike, who won 38-mile in 2000, finally got tired. He rested in the middle of the pace line and continued to direct the pack. Critter demonstrated his superpower by pulling against strong wind for much of the way. Chris, you're not even human. Rick was also strong near the front, always ready to take over.

Apparently I didn't learn from Hotter'n Hell where I threw away a water bottle. As temperature rose, I lost water quickly. I started to look for extra supply. Fortunately Speed Spray Bob showed up with water bottles and bananas every half an hour. It would be difficult to finish the trip without his support.

_The Big Long Downhill
Not everyone felt strong by the time we reached Silver Hill. We went down the long hill in scattered packs. Duane and my 2-man train reached a measly 42-mph behind Jason's 1-man bullet. This was disappointing but everyone made it safely.

_Atlanta
The rolling hills finally ended. We were on relatively flat Atlanta streets. My legs stopped cramping. The streets were so patchy I wanted to call out "crappy road next mile" instead of pointing out each bump and manhole.

The traffic got hairy by lunch hours, but police manned the intersection usually gave us priority.

We went through the Restaurant Street 5 hours into the race. I got really hungry. I hoped the sandwich waiting at finish had half a cow in it.

We asked the non TX Flyers in our pack to go ahead so we would go in as one unit.

We reached Piedmont Park with spectators welcoming us. It was a beautiful moment. Great weather. Great support. Great company. No blood. Everyone stopped talking about food and got a little emotional as we realized this is the final stretch. The pace line became horizontal. 10 of us crossed the finish line, hand in hand.

Wished it were longer.
Wished it were 7am so I could do the whole thing again.
Wished Jack were there.

_Post Race
I sat on the grass and talked to my teammates and other friends. I was happy to find out Eddy and Stacey both won their divisions. Barry didn't skate. The missing road and head wind prevented any new non-default record this year, but Eddy managed to blow his competition away by 7 minutes.

After sandwich and soda, I was ready for another long skate. Went to the hotel and took a shower. Suddenly all I wanted to do was rest. I fell asleep on a couch at award ceremony amongst hundreds of skaters still pumped with energy.

We went to a burger place for dinner. The items were logically named on the menu. I picked the obvious choice -- Coronary Bypass. Wondered whether the little black dog ever had Korean for dinner. Wondered if my friends knew how much I appreciated them. Wondered if I'd be in a team this good and feel this proud again.

Still can't believe I finished A2A!

2003 Hotter n Hell

2008-10-25T07:45:00.000-07:00

Hotter n Hell 50-mile skate

1 year delay
It started out as a joke. I was going to skate Hotter n Hell 2002 with Texas Flyers. Duane found floor space for everyone and volunteered to make dinner. Donnie called us from the course Friday afternoon about the unskatable road surface. I carbo loaded at Duane's house (good job on the pasta, Duane) and went home.

Someone joked they should have 6"-wheel version of speedskates for rough road. I'm a Darwin Award fan, I figured, why not. The 13 lb skates should increase my odds.

I came close to not skating Hotter n Hell 2003, which requires getting a room in Wichta Falls or getting up early in the morning. I lack these skills. Fortunately Fuzi Dave took pity on me and sublet his hotel room. Fuzi also helped me with the toughest part of the even: getting up on time. I actually had time for a sit-down breakfast and for replacing a popped wheel, which I overpumped while whining why they couldn't start the ride at 1pm.

The Start
The weather was beautiful at the start, definitely not hotter than. The road toward back of the bike line was so long my ride became HH52. Saw Donnie, Dave Ahadi and 2 other skaters. Tony and Olga stayed at the back w/ the skaters Dave informed me doing 50 miles in Coyotes is not easy.

I skated up and down the spectator section while trying to convince my GPS and camera not to turn themselves off by vibration and ungentlemanly language. Many riders and spectators were curious about my doing the event in the odd-looking skates. Most questions had to do with whether I was crazy. My answer got shorter and shorter as the day went on:

"I don't know, are you?"
"No, just Stupid."
"Absolutely."
"Yes!"
"Yep"

Easy first miles
Donnie and I waited over 40 min for the road to clear. It was good to finally put the electronics aside and get some exercise. I saw Donnie quickly disappeared in his 5-wheel skates. I slowly pass tendon bikes and baby trailers and occasionally stopped for photos when my camera happened to be on. I saw a few riders crashed into curbs because they had problem handling < 5 mph speed in the crowd.

The crappy but skatable surface quickly turned into black ice. I stopped and refueled at first 2 rest stops. Great support, great weather, great road, great people. I started to enjoy myself and thought maybe I could've done the 100 km.

The unprepared Idiot.
After the first rest stop I got overconfident about my speed. I threw away the 3rd water bottle because it got in the way of the camera bag. I don't remember much of the road right after rest stop 2. I became obsessed and was busy "fixing" my GPS and camera. I finally accepted that carrying the extra gear was a mistake.

Soon I came to a T-intersection and didn't know which way to go. This was when I realized I forgot my map. I waited under the bridge, and 3 wise-looking local cyclists came up and showed me the way. 4 of us stayed together for much of the ride.

Rest stop 3
100k and 50-mile routes met at rest stop 3. Hooked up with a happy and relaxed Fuzi on his hybrid bike.

Several Dallas bikers said hi; they ride at Whiterock on Tuesdays or Thursdays and saw the Texas Flyers. More people told me how cool the Coyotes were. The words "tall" and "stud" were used.

Highway 44
I felt less and less studly by the minute as I start to have problem keeping up with my newfound bike friends. I see myself toe-pushing and could do nothing to correct it. Blisters developed inside the hot socks, 3 on each foot. I took pride in their symmetry until 1 popped and its sister blister didn't. I missed my custom boots. My heart rate started to go nuts as the temperature approached hell.

I must have looked pretty pathetic at this point. 1 of my new friends suggested I could hang on to her jersey. I politely declined. Being a bicep-less but macho male, I suggest racing up the ramp to Interstate 44 access road.

Fuzi and I impressed the girls by flying up the ramp. This was the only section of Hwy 44 I felt confident. The road surface was less than black ice. It gets worse as I ran out of water. My feet were on fire; the legs were running on sour milk; heart rate was on the wrong side of the anaerobic threshold. I was about to bonk. Someone mentioned 15 more miles to finish. I didn't know if I could do 5. The rest stop was nowhere in sight. I started to consider grabbing the cute girl's jersey. It's better than sagging. I sure could use that 3rd bottle of water now.

It suddenly dawned on me: I could just slow down. My friends adjusted their pace. I made it through the crappy road drafting behind them.

Big rest stop
Boy was I happy to see the overdue rest stop. I skated through a dried up ditch to get to water station. All-terrain skates come in handy once a while. I didn't feel so bad after hydration and cold towel. Scarlett tele-encouraged me on Fuzi's cell phone.

I couldn't find my ride buddies as I walked out of the port-a-potty. I felt a bit lost. I wondered if Superman ever felt this way when he walked out of phone booth.

Sheppard Air Force Base
The crappy road surface ended soon after the rest stop. I started to pass bikes again. I was strong, fresh, happy. I entered the base with a large pack. More spectators cheered us on. I stopped and took photos of airplanes. I stopped to thank the volunteers at the rest stop inside the base and realized I was near the end of HH 50. I didn't want it to end. I want it to last longer.

Final miles
My wish came true. I came to a long straight road with new pavement.
The 6" wheels barely rolled on the long stretch of black chip n seal. I duck-walked and wonder if urethane wheels would be easier. Hundreds of bikes passed by shouting encouraging words, especially the ones I passed at the airbase. No one asked me the crazy question any more. One rider actually hit the brake just to high five. This is the type of events that make guys hug each other, and not just sideways.

I was in no rush. I no longer cared about taking photos or keeping pace. I just wanted to remember this day. I reflected on the sequence of events that let me to Coyoting HH 50, starting with an impulse buy on eBay and not quite knowing what to do once the 7" high-heel arrived. I thought about all the friends who skated with me Tuesday nights. I recalled skating from Fort Worth to Dallas and bonking at the ballpark. I don't know why I do things like long distance skating, but I love doing it. Maybe I am crazy.

I chatted with a few more cyclists as we rode by the closed stores near downtown. We heard the announcer at the finish line and saw the century riders coming in from the opposite direction, each one looked exhausted. After 2 right turns, I sprinted, caught a century rider, drafted, and finished with him. I was so grateful my body didn't fail me.

Post ride
Talked with some Pegasus Flyers bikers at finish line about the absent Flyers. Went to the water and banana tent and chatted with riders met on the road. Drank like a fish and ate like a monkey. Life is good.

Tony and Olga came to Fuzi's room for shower. Except for Tony, we spent most of the time lying down waiting for dinner. Tony found comfort putting his forehead on the socks on table.

After a big dinner, I drove home and got ready for the Texas Flyer Sunday morning skate. I faced the great challenge of getting up for the 7 am A2A practice without Fuzi's help. At least I didn't have to worry about over pumping the wheels this time.

2003 Collin Classic

2008-10-25T07:43:00.000-07:00

Collin Classic 30 mile skate

Indecision

I couldn't decide to skate or bike the event. By the rainy Friday night, I figure the road would be partially wet and told a few friends I would bike the 55-mile route. I missed riding, and through the Great Skate of TX I'd already donated this years quota to the big bearing ranch in the sky.

I woke up to a beautiful Saturday sky and 89.7% of my neurons wanted to skate. I took the bike out of the trunk and tossed in the skate bag.

Start

This is the biggest bike rally I've attended, and hundreds of cyclists practiced just-in-time management of waking up late. After waiting in the line for parking, the line for promised not to sue, and the line for event pack, the century riders were ready to go. As I headed toward back of the very long start line, I heard many riders expressing doubt regarding the rollerblader's (inline skater's) ability to participate. "You're gonna do what!" "How do you stop?" No one asked me where Gordon was.

Being intellectually unremarkable (moron) I failed to check the equipment before leaving the house. The left skate missed 1 wheel and axle. I felt slight perturbation of confidence (screwed) as I started at the very back of the pack without warm up.

After going at 5 mph for a while, I jumped behind a few fast cyclists who also ain't good at getting to event on time. I didn't get much draft as they dart in and out of the 15-milers. I pulled some back muscle during the zigzag portion of the course. I wanted my mommy.

The Course

Fortunately it wasn't a normal skating muscle. I felt fine once the road was clear enough to go straight. The course was very skatable. I kept waiting for the bad surface in Don's report to show up; it barely did. The black stuff is not smooth, but it's not as bad as some parts of the Tuesday night route. Over all it was an easier ride than 2002 Mesquite Rodeo Ride. I would've done the 55-mile if it weren't for the missing wheel and bad back.

There were some rolling hills. Long and gentle. The only tough hill was 1 mile before the finish. Many stood up pretending to be Lance Armstrong. I pretended to be Dave Guadiz and smiled as I passed them.

There were rest stops approximately every 10 miles. They seemed more and more attractive as my legs started to complain.

The people

I didn't see other skaters on the course except the few who pretended to be cyclists.

Everyone was nice to me, even the sheriff. I got encouragements from cyclists as I had problem staying in the pack going down hill. I ended up grabbing the bottom of their seats, which made interesting shadows.

My pack sneakily tried to drop me once when I said hi to Fuzi.

Post event

Lunch was served in the high school cafeteria. I ate hot dogs with the people I met on the 30-mile course. These are bicycle enthusiasts who don't necessarily care how fast they're going, not your typical Richardson Bike Mart Saturday crowd. We talked about Hotter n Hell and other events.

Wish more skaters were there.

2002 Long Beach Marathon

2008-10-25T07:41:00.000-07:00

2002 Long Beach Inline Marathon

Tried to drive the 26-mile course Saturday morning. This was nontrivial since some turns weren't opened to motor vehicles. I casually abandoned the difficult parts of the course. I decided skater in front of me would know where to go.

I arrived at the expo half way into Chad Hedrick and Heather Elliot marathon workshop. Chad was teaching weight transfer and edge control. Not sure how useful such information was 1 day before the race. Half of class apparently already could double push; the other half struggled to get any outside-edge at all. Most wanted to be there just to skate w/ Superman.

I noticed Chad wasn't using the Chad-signature wheels I would use in the race. Chad supposedly endorsed these more expensive item. It was the only 84-mm wheels I could find after Northshore people bought all the popular stuff.

All the expected manufactures showed up. After getting my annual hug from lovely Skategrrl Kathie Fry, I test drove Rollerblade's new models. When I mentioned the pressure point I felt, the rep immediately guessed that my feet were too wide and basically told me the entire line of skates ain't for me. Interesting sales approach.

In the afternoon I made some effort skating parts of course that were not accessible by car. I met our FL members Paul and Stacey on the bike path. Just as 3 of us realized we didn't know where the course was, we met 2 women asking about race route. Paul turned on the charm and enthusiastically gave the 2 attractive ladies all kinda helpful information. Stacey accused his father of being a "clean young man" (not exact quote). After finishing A2A just the week before, Stacey had food poisoning and was unsure about her readiness for Long Beach.

The Race.

It was dark when everyone got to the start line. The temperature was low enough I barely sweated during warm up. My heart rate monitor said 224, which was a reasonable number if I were a hummingbird. It's the unadvertised beat-doubling feature of Polar sensors.

The advanced start was a zoo.
As soon as we crossed the start line, everyone wanted the same positions.
This led to constant forming and breaking of long pace lines. Several people crashed minutes into the race. A skater landed on her right ear; I saw the sunglasses frame snapped in slow motion. Scary stuff. After clicking skates couple time, I decided to play it safe and hide behind a lone skater who refused to join the fight. I eventually fought my to the front when most gave up changing their positions. I looked at my HRM, 186 (93% max). I should be OK as long as I stayed in the draft and didn't have to counter any attack before my heart rate slows a bit.

First 6 miles had many turns. Hay bales were placed at strategic positions. At one spot the orange cones were so confusing the lead motorcycle led the pro men in the wrong path, and the 3 pros who memorized the route broke away and won the race.
Advanced lead pack (motto: we could skate like the pro if we pretend) took the same wrong turn. The problem w/ U-turn having 100+ skaters behind you in a race is you can't just power slide into a 180 unless you want to test your helmet. By the time I stopped, ran over the grass, jumped over dirt, the directionally gifted were long gone. It felt like the race had restarted and some were allowed to start early.

A few of us sprinted and quickly realized the futility. I stayed in a small pack lead by 2 San Diego skaters and began our chase of the huge group 400 yards ahead. I found a tall steady skater to block the wind; few miles later I realized it was Paul. I concentrated on falling into my strides and saving energy; all the practice behind Critter's ridiculously long strokes was paying off.

We swallowed many skaters into our growing pack between mile 7 and 12, but a group of 40+ skaters managed to keep the distance. They disappeared at the end of the bike path alone the beautiful morning Pacific. I could swear one of them looked back and gave us the evil smile.

Before we entered a U-turn I saw Stacey skating alone on the other side of the street looking tired. Food poisoning was not a optimal activity before endurance sport. I hoped she was OK. She managed to maintain her speed; we never caught her.

Half way into the race we saw what could be the lead pack and picked up the pace. I pulled the pack and worried whether my legs would hold for another 13 miles. Then I saw the woman of my dream--the one who helped pull! We closed the gap and found out they weren't leader.

Some guy in Hyper skin suit pulled much of the way in his 4-wheel rec skates. We could hear him coming behind our pack shouting "AAAAAH," and all the sudden he would pass the pack as if he were wearing blue war paint and holding Wallace sword. Braveheart would slow down to lead the pack then disappear until the next charge. He did this so many times I started to think they were twins or triplets racing as 1 person.

We continue to pick up and pass skaters shed off the front packs, including a racer shouting encouraging words sitting at a bus stop. People were less and less willing to pull. My HRM says 165. Not a good sign. The lead pack was probably increasing the gap. It was tempting to push the pack faster, but I didn't know how the 30 skaters around me would react. A solo break away probably wouldn't do any good either. Wish Dave G and Duane were here.

We made the final turn just before mile 24. I couldn't see any skater in front of us. No more chasing. A few half-hearted attacked started and faded. The group seemed to slow down even more. I realized having 20+ skaters in front of me w/ 2- miles left was not a good idea. I decided to take the lead. As I started to move up from the left Paul opened a gap in front of him to let me into the 3rd position.
It's wonderful to have a teammate.

The attack finally started w/ less than a mile to go by the energized Hyper guy shouting something that's not "freedom" and suddenly opened a 10-yard gap. Thanks to Paul, I was fresh enough to chase him down, and our 2-man pack had what I thought was a comfortable lead. What a rush! Unfortunately we were both sprinters (AKA endurance-challenged), 3 other skaters caught us before the line.

It was disappointed to finish so far behind the leaders, but I was ecstatic to have finished the race safely and have enough left for sprint. It's also the first time I finished 26-mile course in less than 2 hr. The curse is broken.

Saw Stacey sitting by the curb looking beat. She skated much of the course by herself. Hope she'll recover soon from illness and the race.

Most pro men I talked to at finishing area appeared bitter about being directed off the course. The exceptions were K2's Josh Wood, who missed the wrong turn, and Eddy, who had a huge smile as if he won the race. Gotta hand it to Eddy.

2002 Great Skate of Texas

2008-10-25T07:36:00.000-07:00

race report: 2002 Great Skate of Texas Inline Marathon

Hats off to David Darr for making the 1^st Annual event such a success.

Bonnie Blair was the guest of the honor at the dinner banquet. Cancer survivors, including Bonnie's brother, gave moving speeches on their experiences and future of cancer treatment and prevention. K2's Dean Burke (finished after our Chris and Jason :) gave an inline speedskating 101 talk, completed with a race video provided by Bont's Debbie Rice. I felt bad keep aiming the flash at Bonnie's face. Sigh, nothing screams out _amateur_ like a point-n-shoot camera on a $20 tripod. Bonnie was very understanding when I apologized. I finally met our virtual member Paul in person with whom I had discussed his Greek-God-like physique. His daughter Skate-Like-Wind Stacey also made the trip from Florida.

I planned to take 5k and 1-mile pix on skates. The 5k skaters were much faster than I expected. Yeah, I was having trouble keeping up w/ little kids. I never reached the leader of 5k. I stopped chasing after catching up w/ little Marvin the Energizer bunny.

I lingered too long on the 5k course and missed the start of the 1-mile Fun Skate. I barely got there on time to make the wrong turn w/ some front skaters. Yeah, my gift for getting lost triumphed again. I didn't take many photos on the 1-mile course. It was fun just hanging out w/ Bonnie and our skater friends, and I was anxious to start the 25k race.

After Dean told me K2 team would try to do 27 ~ 28 mph with a mouthful of meat at the dinner, I gave up on my goal of not to be lapped. But I stuck with my original strategy: hang on to jelly boy for as long as I could. Dave and Duane's pack dropped me during the 4^th big lap. Renee Coffman from Houston was nice enough to bonk around the same time so I didn't have to skate alone. We picked up and dropped a few skaters alone the way. I wanted to give Renee high five as we finished lap 4—unlapped!—but was too tired to raise my arm.

After I finished 25k, I tried to take pix with my shaking hands and screwed up all kinda Nikon moments. I did witness a girl panicked at the big hill and fell going 20+ mph. Scary sight. I was surprised at how little injury she sustained. She seemed to be in good spirit 20 min after the crash. I wish I had a chance to talk to her; I was late for a wedding (not mine).

It was exciting to see the result in Dallas Morning News Monday, particularly on Chris and Jason's beating the pros. Wish I were there to see the final sprint.

Johnny the event's official snapshot taker

1996 career change didn't take place

2008-10-25T07:30:00.000-07:00

This was written for the company newsletter.

Johnny goes to Hollywood

Many people read my bio in "InSiDer" last year and told me "Johnny, you're so full of crap. If you're so inspired by 'Color of $,' why didn't you pursue your dream but decided to sit in front of computers all day?" That's a very good question. I admit that Tom Cruise and I have a lot in common: we're both slightly under 6'; both of our 9-ball games involve certain # of weaknesses (in the sense that a Pentium Pro involves certain # of transistors), and both of us think Nicole is a babe. The truth is I had thought about a career in acting and actually did something about it.

It was during OJ's criminal trial when I worked in Cedars-Sinai (the hospital where Michael Jackson's wife's son was born) as a research biostatistician. A co-worker handed me a little ad when he came back from lunch. You can often find such ad on many telephone poles in LA:

MOVIE EXTRAS AND TEMPORARY ACTORS NEEDED
no experience needed, good money...,
call 555-4088 9am - 5pm

Out of curiosity, I dial the #, and before I can say anything other than "I'm responding to your posting near Beverly Center," the operator cut me off and set me up for an appointment for the next day, and before I could ask any question (I wanted to make sure this had nothing to do w/ 1-900 # telephone services), she hung up. She was a pro!

I went to the company on Sunset next day. They made me fill out an application in the waiting room. According to my answers on the application I was an athletic, tall, young and tremendously good-looking kong-fu master who spoke 5 languages and could joggle chain saws. I was tempted to also check the box in front of unicycle, but I didn't want to sound immodest. I actually enjoyed the waiting in the room; that day they were looking for a Gloria Estephan look-alike and a 6' transvestite. I found the conversation interesting, even though I didn't think I had much chance of getting either part (I didn't speak Spanish and was only "almost" 6'). The big debate was about the most qualified transvestite: he didn't want to wear garter belts.

I never got to find out if they went for Mr. No-Garter-Belt or the 2nd choice who was more hairy but sounded willing to do anything (what a disturbing thought). I was invited into the interview room by Ms. La Joy (Am I the only one who hasn't seen the name "La Joy" before?). She was being extremely nice; she seemed genuinely concerned about my acting career and well-being in general. She didn't even get turned off when I told her the reason I was there: "Just for the heck of it; a friend passed that telephone pole one too many time." I started getting suspicious when she told me "Oh, good! We never have enough Asian guys; there are always parts for Asian guys" (keep in mind this is LA). I decided to test how far she would go in kissing up to me--I told her every bad OJ jokes I could think of (yes, including knock knock and the OJ's internet address), and--sure enough--she laughed at them all. I had stupendous respect for this woman by now. I finally realized what it takes to make it in the real world; at that moment I thought maybe I deserved to work in the smelly basement cubical after all. She seemed so interested in signing me as a client that she even offered a free (another fishy word) one-day acting lesson.

After patiently listening to my opinion re. Microsoft products and new discovery associated w/ the Hubble pictures (I ran out of OJ jokes. I was also gonna tell her how disappointed I was w/ the latest Douglas Adams book, but I didn't put enough quarters in the parking meter), she carefully explained how great her company was and how many parts they had gotten their clients. She made me promise I would try very very hard to be a good actor 'cause "you would represent our company." Then she told me they never asked for commissions; they charge a flat fee: $139/yr! Out front!!! For some reason she didn't seem pleased when I suddenly fell off the chair and started laughing uncontrollably while banging the floor. Sigh, some people just don't have sense of humor.

I finally got hold of myself and put my butt back in the chair. Being a reasonable person, I proved to her mathematically that I would be a member of SPESB (Society of People w/ Extremely Small Brain) to pay such a fee. In order to show my sincerity, I offered her a 51% commission. That was the time I got kicked out of the office to make room for a Darrell Strawberry look-alike in oil stained Firestone uniform. It was good timing because I made it back to my car just as the little red flag in the meter popped back up.

I'm not making this up. If you don't believe me, just call 213/657-8457 and tell them you look exactly like Tom Cruise in "Color of $" and you want to marry Nicole. Ask for La Joy. And if you're a 6' non-hairy male, just show up at 8833 Sunset Blvd., Suite 308. Dress appropriately.

1996 Western Hemisphere

2008-10-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

race report: Western Hemisphere Inline Marathon

Johnny does marathon

Do you want to brag that you can do marathon in under 3 hours but are too lazy to train? If so, rollerblade is the sport for you. There are numerous other reasons to rollerblade. I personally started because study shows that bimbos prefers 5'9" good looking geeks over 5'6" good looking geeks, 3 to 1.

I participated in Western Hemisphere In-Line Skate Marathon in December 1996. This is my second in-line skate marathon. I learned an important lesson in the 1995 marathon: sometimes it's necessary to refuse free drinks. There were many Gatorade stands along the course, and I found that getting drinks from people is spirit-lifting fun. The goal was to snatch the little paper cup from the volunteer's hand w/o spilling or slowing down. 15 miles into the race I was able to grab 2 cups per stand; I was rather pleased w/ myself. Toward the end I found out there's nothing like skating uphill while really having to go. The other problem I encountered was lack of training. I hadn't taken any 3+ miles skate trip since the end of day-light-saving time. I found out about the marathon 11 hours before the event.

I was wiser and more prepared in 1996. I even practiced 1 hour everyday the whole week before the event, except the 3 days that rained.

I got through the toughest part of the marathon w/ relative ease, you know, getting up in the morning. The race started 20 minutes before the published time in the Culver City newsletter, so I started the race 15 minutes late. It took me forever to catch the slowest of people who had enough sense to arrive more than 5 minutes before the race. The police directing the traffic seemed to have no respect for people who didn't start on time. I was directed off the course. Twice.

The skaters' speed was a function of their equipment. The leading pack consisted of men in tights, followed by shorts-wearing people whose skates made funny noises. Behind them were the wimps who wore more protective gears than jousting knights. The last group consisted of cheerful people who were busy swapping recipes and debating political issues such as boxer shorts vs. briefs. During the first hour I passed social people and armored people. I was also passed by several skaters who apparently had problem waking up. The social people seemed to have the most fun.

After 10 miles, I was mostly skating along, except for passing people who couldn't get up in the morning and didn't know how to pace themselves. The men in tights were so much faster than us mortals it was pointless trying to catch them. Part of the course was on Vista del Mar. The morning ocean was beautiful.

The skaters and runners' courses merged at our turn-around point. That's where I found out how fast I really was--I had problem keeping up w/ some runners. Somehow this led to my skating faster than my muscles were designed for. Pretty soon my legs went numb. I think I broke some kinda slow record during the last 5 miles. But I started to kick my boots hard and swing hands high when I saw the finish line. I tried to act like I knew what I was doing <= the TV camera. I'm so shallow.

In case you're curious, I finished the 26.n miles in approx. 2.5 hours. This means if you randomly pick a skinny Kenyan man and paint wheels on his feet, he could beat my time--unless he drinks too much free Gatorade.

bio from 1997

2008-10-25T07:05:00.000-07:00

This was written for the company newsletter.

Johnny Chen

I'm a Programmer Analyst working in the Soar Group at the University of Southern California's Information Sciences Institute. I primarily work on the Soar IFOR project maintaining the Soar ModSAF Interface. I also help with maintenance of the Soar software on occasion.

I started at ISI on April 1, 1996. My last day at ISI will be December 3, 1997. I plan to move to Dallas, Texas in December 1997 and start working in Dallas in May 1998. Here is my resume in HTML , MS Word , ASCII .

Background

I left my family in Taiwan and came to the United States at the age of 13. I learned to enjoy sports in public junior high in Texas. I spent most of my time learning English and doing different sports: football, basketball, martial art, etc. I got my first computer in the 8th grade: an Apple II clone. I spent ungodly amount of time doing what personal computers were really good for--playing games. I also spent few geek hours here and there memorizing 6502 commands (couldn't afford an assembler) and the 0th page content in the Apple.

I focused my high school years on books. I would've focused on girls except I was too short to play varsity football. Inspired by "Color of $," I went to Baltimore to become a hustler after high school. I practically lived in the smoke-filled 24-hr pool hall, where I surprisingly found out that real life was not at all like the movies. I waited and waited and waited but Paul Newman never showed up, and I wasn't making enough $ on the pool tables. My first clue was that Balabushika in the movie wasn't even a hand-made cue. Fortunately my parents helped me out because I told them I was in college. I later tried a real Balabushika. I think it's so hyped mostly because the artist is dead.

I played and studied hard in Johns Hopkins (*there are S's after both "John" and "Hopkin") where I founded the pool club, led a collegiate team (ACU-I), participated in over 10+ other extracurricular organizations, stayed up all night to get on the CM2s, and tried to figure out if P==NP. Too lazy to read the descriptions in the course catalog, I always signed up for many courses and dropped the ones I didn't enjoy. Due to lack of forethought and planning, I "almost" finished the requirements for bachelor degrees in CS, EE, and math and for master degree in CS by the end of my junior year. I ended up staying for the 4th year to finish the requirements for the 4 degrees.

I was in Baltimore when the Cowboys had their 1-15 season; ain't my fault.

I started doing serious research in Syracuse University in 1991 because a girl was in Toronto, and I couldn't find summer jobs that didn't involve saying "do you want fries with that?" in Buffalo or Rochester. The research led to my first publication. In 1992 I left my pool cue in Texas and entered UCLA grad school to do AI. I also worked part-time in Cedars-Sinai Medical Center doing nuclear medicine. My job in the hospital was to teach the computers to find the heart on SPECT and MRI images. The PhD thing didn't work out. I started working in Westside Billiards Cafe (next to Hard Rock) as the equipment man and pool instructor. I was, again, unable to make a living shooting pool and had to work full-time in the basement of Cedars where they made patients glow under the gamma cameras. In addition to developing algorithms in computer vision, I also did system administration and wrote medical software using Motif. My last job title in Cedars was "research biostatistician." I still don't understand the deep reasoning behind my becoming a biostatistician; I once heard something about the job involves washing test tubes.

I left the radioactive and pool jobs and started working at ISI on April 1, 1996.

Goals

Ever since I came to this country, my goals have been
1> being able to dunk, preferably 2-handed, and possibly backward or even upside down while doing a spit
2> not to go bald
I've been working on reaching the rim for past 20+ years; I mostly just wave at the thing. I considered buying a pair of them shoes that cost as much as Apache helicopters, but are more technologically advanced. But I heard that the shoes are responsible for Shaq's free-throw ability. Come to think of it, I could change my goal to something more practical, such as getting a $120000000.00 contract for a job that requires wearing shorts and running shorter people over. A second thought, I better stick to goals that are more achievable.

I guess one out of two ain't bad. At least I hope it's one out of two.

Hobbies

In my spare time--as well as rest of the time--I enjoy basketball, volleyball, bowling, tennis, racquetball, pool, snooker, ski, water ski, jet ski, swimming, football, and rollerblading . I've pretty much given up martial art as a competitive sport because I happen to believe size matters. I still swing my nunchucks once a while when watching TV and amazingly haven't broken the tube as my mom has predicted. I'm currently looking for pool and tennis partners. My high-run in pool was 39 (As of 1992. I haven't played much straight pool since, and my shot-making ability has gone down the toilet). I suck in tennis, but I like to hit hard and am always willing to run.

I'm in the process of becoming a movie geek, which is another way of saying I'm a pathetic nerd w/ no life. I went so far as trying to make a living as an international action star w/ acting skill of your average Idaho potato (official motto: I can't act worse than Mr. Van Damme). I believe the only reason I'm not already a 5'6" action hero who looks tall on the screen is "Muscle from Taipei" doesn't sound as good.

If I had more sense, I'd pay more attention to my Fidelity retirement account investment performance. Maybe one day I'll actually need a Taco Bell or Fry's employment application.

long distance

White Rock Marathon 12-4-2011 -- meltdown

Boston Qualifying standard 11-13-2011

Houston Inline Marathon 11-13-2011

A2A 38-mile 2011

NYC 100k Prospect Park, Brooklyn 09/24/2011

PreRace Jitter 9-17-2011, another NorthShore I didn’t participate

Hotter n Hell 100k skate 8/28/2011

DRC Independence 10k, 7/21/2011

Katy 5k. May 12, 2011

Long run 2011--Double Marathon. April 22

Rock n Roll Half Marathon 3/27/2011 Dallas

2/27/2011 Cowtown 2011 50k run

between White Rock and Cowtown -- changing goal

White Rock Marathon 2010

Glassy pavement, cool air, sugary pastry, reluctant bearings, car crash, 4000 calories, Ukrainian polka

A2A 52-mile 2010

Tandem jump. Sept 3, 2010

Hotter n Hell 100. 8/28/2010

3rd bike

Texas Road Rash

Granbury, TX 4-17, 4-18

2/27 Cowntown Ultra

2009 White Rock Half Marathon

2009 Houston Inline Marathon

A2A 2009 38-mile race + 51-mile group skate

Hotter n Hell 2009: 102 miles; avg 20.7 mph

Alaska family vacation

Anchorage

Whittier

2 sea days

Skagway

Juneau

Ketchikan

Sea day

Vancouver

more photos

Ragbrai 2009, skate across Iowa

Texas Road Rash 2009

Huntsville 50-mile Trail Run. 12/6/2008. DNF

A2A 55-mile -- Sunday morning fun skate went out of control

The Texas Time Trail

Montreal 24-Hour Inline Race

Road to Montreal 24-Hour

2008 Playtri Duathlon

2008 Texas Road Rash Inline Race

2007 inaugural Houston Inline Marathon

2007 A2A 38-mile race + 49-mile cool down skate

2007 Hotter n Hell 100

Inline Skating the Hotter'n Hell 100 Wichita Falls, Texas

2007 Ironman CDA

2004 Texas Road Rash: last race before spine surgery

2003 A2A Ultra Inline

2003 Hotter n Hell

2003 Collin Classic

2002 Long Beach Marathon

2002 Great Skate of Texas

1996 career change didn't take place

Johnny goes to Hollywood

MOVIE EXTRAS AND TEMPORARY ACTORS NEEDED no experience needed, good money..., call 555-4088 9am - 5pm

1996 Western Hemisphere

Johnny does marathon

bio from 1997

Johnny Chen

Background

Goals

Hobbies

MOVIE EXTRAS AND TEMPORARY ACTORS NEEDED
no experience needed, good money...,
call 555-4088 9am - 5pm