Sweat on the can

Up early and out of the city on what would turn out to be another simply downright wonderful day. (I didn't earn my pollyanna nickname fro nothin' ya know... thanks Michael). I was up early enough that the wind was slight, but it put a bit of a chill in the air even though the ambient temperature was around 17˚C.

Now Sunday is reserved for the BIG BIKE (echo..... echo.... echo... echo...), so that was the ultimate plan..... get out early and get back in tome to have somewhat of a life with my family.

So this is one of those days where if you asked me how it went, I would say great because even though I am going to include a map (as I have been known to do on occasion), the distance I covered today just seems unfathomable. (Not to mention the 5 k I ran when I got home.)

The Map

So how far did I go? Well.... 180K. Yep you read it right that's 180K on a bicycle. Who'd a thunk it? All told, it took my just over 6 hours at 6:05:00 on the nose.

How do you do such a thing? (to answer, I will paraphrase Sir Edmund Hillary who was asked the similar question after being the first man to scale Everest.) How do you do it? .... well one pedal stroke at a time. To be blunt, you are a fool if you always are thinking about how far you have to go..... yes. yes... I realize that when planning the route and looking on Google Earth to check the distance and planning the amount of fluid and food to bring and where you might get some if you run out, requires that you think about the whole thing, but after that..... fah-ged-aboudit. Just get on your bike and enjoy each pedal stroke.... kind of a Buddhist philosophy of cycling.

Buddhists teach this philosophy to the beginning student metaphorically like this..... Take a bag of M and M's. Most kids will pour several out of the bag into their hand and eat the candy this way. The Buddhists teach that it is wiser to eat each M and M individually and savour each one for its uniqueness. Thus, each pedal stroke leads you along the path. Look a round every now and then and enjoy where you are and don't worry so much about where you are going to be.... you will be there soon enough.

I have to be honest, I find that the 6 hours goes by very quickly this way and I always seem to see some amazing things along the way.... some are even worth a photo.

No mail for the Giant.

About 2 hours in or about 60k out of the city is Poplar Point. I have mentioned it before in my blog. I turned around here to head back to the turn to Marquette.

Speaking of Mail.... this mailbox seems a bit.... wait for it.... wait for it.....well..... fishy don't you think?

Here is the grain silo at Marquette. This is the tallest thing for miles and as you will read in a moment the bane of my existence. [Read the story below... then think of it in reverse, as I had to ride back from Rosser to Marquette, after watering and feeding the Giant.]

The Giant tries to get some lovin' but gets... wait for it.... wait for it... an icy reception.

But first, I mentioned before about the planning thing... well... the big thing about a 6 hour ride, is that you cannot carry with you all the fluid you will need... 'specially on a hot day..... so you have to plan where you might be able to procure said beverages. Well I'll tell you there is something to be said for an ice cold Coke when the temperature is climbing and you have been drinking warm Gatorade for over an hour.

Hemming way called it the sweat on the bottle... I will bastardize it and call it the sweat on the can.

The bane of my existence... well the bane of my day... was the bike from Marquette through Meadows to Rosser and back. This stretch is basically 24K in a straight line each way (well there is a little bit of a turn just before Rosser). So you head out of Marquette and all you can see in the distance, staring at you menacingly, is the tallest object on the Prairies... the town silo. So there I am looking through the hazy mirage, that all highways get in the heat, and way off in the distance I can see this white square. Now I know all you folks from around the globe that live where there are things called hills will not be able to fathom this, but there may be a thread of truth to the motto: "stand on a chair and watch your dog run away for a week!"

There is something totally demoralizing knowing were you are going to be in half an hour. So I try to be Buddhist and enjoy the ride..... it works for a while, but when I look up... there it is in the distance.... taunting me... laughing at me as I melt in the heat... and.... to boot.... it appears not to be even one foot closer. So I ride... and I ride and I ride ... I ride so long that I think I may reach the other side.. and then I look up...... damn it! I am still no closer and, if it is at all possible, it would appear that I am somehow farther away as its steamy visage seems to have been swallowed up by the vastness. So I ride... and I ride and I ride ... I ride until can no longer bear it... and there in the distance I feel like I have gained some ground and made it.

They really are quite majestic... and act as a reminder of how connected we really are to the dirt.

Now the worst of it all...... as I make my way past Meadows... off in the hazy distance..... is... miles more of the same straight nothingness that I have been riding on for the past 30 min. It almost became this hypnotic movement as the pulsing yellow line lulled me into this trance that had me..... aw hell..... I am back to diamond Dave and "Crazy from the heat."

At last I made it to Rosser.

The Giant in repose getting some rest in the shade after a hard bike in the heat.

I had arrived.

I dismounted the Giant.... leaned it up against the tree... and tried my best not to think of the fact that I was just halfway and I still had 5K to run when I got home.

P.S. - We have been invited to spend some time at friends' cottages over the next week. For those of you who are dedicated readers, I will not be near the Internet for a bit, so I will not be blogging. Never fear though, as I will have my camera with me and, as I have to keep training, I will be bringing you more tales of the weirdness that seems to be my life these days. Until then, may the sun be in the sky, may your sunblock keep workin' and may your rides fell like you have no chain.

Frabjous Day

Oh frabjous day! Calooh Calay! (he chortled in his joy) - apologies to Carroll, but seriously... probably the best day to be at the beach ever..... the only downside was that half of Winnipeg and the surrounding burrows seemed to all have the same idea. And, being Saturday, they could all act upon it if they so choose to do so.... and choose they did.... by the carload.

Besides the great day, I needed an open water swim this morning. Birds Hill seems to be the place, as everything else is just a little too distant to bring the family. You have to remember that bringing a 9 and 7 year old requires planning and packing. Hell... bringing a 40 year old triathlete requires Patience and planning..... 'specially if he is also looking at biking after his swim. The problem with triathlon in general, as all my tri-geek friends will be able to relate, is that when you take the gong show on the road, there really is way too much crap to think about.

I eluded to the clothing issues in yesterdays blog, but seriously, you have to prepare for at least three seasons: rain, cold and heat. I mean sticking your head out the window the morning of your work out is just as accurate as the enviro Canada web site. That said, when you are in... let say Kenora - which many of my triathlon colleagues are packing for at this very moment... you really don't know what the conditions are going to be like on race day and since you are leaving the comfort of home, you bring it all.

Today I needed to pack my bike stuff and my swim wear. You have seen the photos of my kinky S and M neoprene outfit, but underneath is usually, my H.R. monitor, my biking shorts and my racing singlet ready for the transition to the bike. I have also applied astro glide... ooops wrong stuff, Body Glide to help with the chaffing and the removal of my supersuit once it is on. Then you have to remember to add you watch to time your swim and check it against the mile of data you have collected through out the year. Goggles and Cap round out the last bits. I usually bring all my caps and try to pick a colour that is different so that Lori knows that the water logged triathlete that they are performing CPR on and administering the last rites to... is not me, as I am swimming with a pink cap with butterflies on it designed by my daughter.

Any way, enough about that.... back to the wonderful weather and the swim.

Good form and fingers together to get all you can out of those freakishly long arms.

I managed to do my 2.5k in about 48 minutes and headed back to shore to get on to the bike. A bit of a walk later and I was unloading the Giant and stuffing my Gu into its Bento Box.... (now there's some triathlon porn for ya!) Ahhhh but I digress..... Got the Giant up and out and onto the ring road of the park.

Today's bike goal was to just do three laps and call it a day. I wanted to work the hills and make sure that I did not let the heat of the day slow me down and I also did not want to let all that hill training on Green Mountain road and Yellow lake go to hell. The ride was nothing special, other than I really enjoyed the ride and the pavement is glass in most places. And while the beach was getting busier by the second, the mad dogs and Englishmen were the only ones out on the bike. (.... apologies to Coward)

36.5k later I was back at the van loading up the Giant and heading down to the beach where I know Lori had an ice cold chocolate milk and Gatorade waiting for me.

There is just something about ice cold beverages after a day in the heat..

back dimples and scapulae

Long run today. Now in order to facilitate the feel of the race I am doing one mile repeats, as there is an aid station every mile on the Ironman course. Thus, there is really no need to carry any gels or fluid, as each aid station is fully stocked.

Here is today's route: (for some reason the lines are white... I know that is not very helpful, but think of it as an interesting game of connect the dots)

So to keep things as interesting as you could with mile repeats, I went clock-wise on the first mile and then counter-clockwise for mile two and so on from there. The weather was fairly nice, but humid.

As I completed each mile, I stopped at the "aid" station and fueled up. That meant that on mile, 3, 9, 12 and 15, I would have a gel and on the rest I would have some Gatorade to keep hydrated.

Aid station Edwards

I ended up not doing to badly as my longest stop was about 50 seconds and I averaged just over 9 minute miles throughout the 17 that I ran... that's 27.2 kilometers for you metric thinkers.

WARNING THIS NEXT SECTION OF THE BLOG IS NOT FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE EASY GROSSED OUT OR OFFENDED BY BODILY SECRETIONS.

You see, the problem towards the end was the humidity. Picking the right outfit or top is crucial. ... I mean this in the most non-meterosexual way. I am not talking about whether or not it matches or coordinates in any way with what else I am wearing. Basically, If you are too cold, you end up having a poor run, as you just cannot seem to get it together. If you wear to heavy a top, you sweat profusely. Well today, I decided to wear the dri-fit top I got in my race package at the Desert half. It is white, so I thought it was the perfect blend of functionality and design. Functionality, as it would keep me warm at the start when it was a bit cool out, and yet it was white so it would not attract the heat like a black shirt. Design, as it is supposed to wick the sweat away from your body to the outside of the material where it aids in evaporation and keeps you dry... no one likes to chafe.

Well, as I went through my laps it go warm.. well not so warm as to be hot, but warm enough that combined with my increased desire to post some great times for the blogging community, it caused me to perspire. Slowly , but very steadily my Hyvee hat started to swell with its failed attempts to wick the moisture from me 'ead.

Over time that perspiration was no longer being "wicked" from my bodacious bod as my dri-fit started acting more like the kinda thing one might see at every hotel on the beaches of South-Padre from February to April.

Here is a quick shot that Lori took when I got home and was about to take my shirt off.

By now this built up perspiration was forming a tiny trickle down my pecs and scapulae. This trickle, as most streams tend to start out as, worked its way simultaneously down past my navel and back dimples into my shorts where they, too, got into the act of wickage. Now that everyone was at the party, I was nothing more than a running sponge.

Basically, my "outfit" was at the max-wickage one could possible hope for, which ultimately meant that it began to seep down past my knees and into my shoes. So by mile 17, my shoes were down right squishy..... which, as you guessed, further aggravated my already sensitive tootsies.

What a mess. When I finally arrived home, I was the equivalent of a running wet mop. I grabbed a sip of Gatorade and sat down on my front porch with a splat and proceeded to wring the "au-jus" from my "wicking" dri-fit shirt.

No ..... this is not trick photography..... eeeewwwwww.

Now that's sexy..... is it just me or does my ring toe on my left foot look like it is blacker?

When we hit the 30 min mark, she was still smiling

After a quick stop with the kiddies as they got ready to head out to the Marine Museum of Manitoba (Selkirk) Inc. Lori and I headed over to the Centennial pool to get in some laps. The Centennial offers lap swim from 6:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m., so it really fits the schedule. Lap swim is the whole pool except from 8:30 - 11:30 when they offer lessons and you can only use two lanes. Regardless, there was no one there and we were able to have a lane to ourselves.

I polished off the set Pat had left for me in about 40 minutes (20X100 at slightly above race pace) and we were off to the Daily Grind for an Americano and a bit of a hang.

After coffee, we went over to the L.C. for a bottle or five of wine and to check out the remodeled store. In a glass case as you walk in, they had some Rémy Martin Cognac for a mere $2,200....... all that for 750ml. You know.... some of you may balk at that, but I would love to try it just once...... not the whole bottle of course..... just a well sipped ounce or two.

Part two of the day involved me slowly and gently conning Lori into joining me on an easy spin. We loaded up the bikes and drove out to the White Horse in Saint Francis Xavier. For those of you following along from places foreign to Manitoba, I should tell you an interesting Manitoban factoid. Small town Manitoba has a history of building large ornate monuments to attract tourists. Click here for a list of the more famous - Manitoba Photos - Town Statues

So as you can see from the list. St. Francis Xavier has the "White Horse," which, as I read this morning, was donated in '66 by the White Horse Blended Scotch Whisky in Scotland.

Why a white horse and not a larger than life statue of St. Francis or a big bottle of Glasgow Scotch? Well..... the story goes something like this.....

Anyhoo.... we parked at the store in St. FX

.....and headed out North on Hwy 26.

Now, I had told Lori that we would do an easy spin out for 30 minutes and then come back. In reality, I was hoping that after the 30 minutes, I could convince her to do more, as I really wanted her to see some of the places I have been yammering about all year.

So as you can see, when we hit the 30 minute mark she was still smiling.

... it was only natural to gently invite her to continue on and see the splendour that awaits at the turn to St. Eustache. Me and my bridge.... I don't know what I like so much about this place, but I do love it. Maybe it is just the secretiveness under which it was discovered... kind of like I have a special place that is just for me. Not sure her.... words a failing miserably in describing my happy spot.

Well, after checking out the infamous turn to Marquette, she soldiered on for another K or two until we hit the turn to the bridge.

Here's the two of us just before our romantic lunch of 1/2 a Cliff bar.

Here is my attempt at capturing the marvelous engineering and design of this simple, yet eloquent, bridge.

All told back to the store it was just over 40k and it was the longest ride of the season for Lori. As a result, when we arrived back at the store, we needed to celebrate. Of course I treated her to a real lunch..... ice cream and a pepperoni stick.

Ain't I just the bestest!

Still going strong after a lifetime of chickens

What an absolutely gorgeous day with high-up wind streaked clouds that look like they are straight out of the art department at Pixar.

Today's ride took me out just past the happening burg of Poplar Point located about 60K from all the hustle and bustle of Charleswood. The temperature started out pretty friendly, but by the time I was nearly home, we had hit 28˚C and our famous friend the prairie wind had decided to show up.

I hit the road about 8:30ish and made my way out over the Taylor bridge and along the access road to the White Horse. Although this first part is about 16k, I never really think of my longer rides starting until I reach this point. This is most likely due to the nature of my ride and it is farr enough away from "home" that you really feel like you are out somewhere..... or should I say nowhere.

Then, as I have mentioned before, I take highway 26 through St. FX (see photo below), Pigeon lake (which is easy to miss... thank heavens there is a sign) and then past such high-lites as - this quaint old style farm complete with the red barn just before the turn to marquette (see photo below), followed by the turn to St. Eustache (beautiful bridge there) then past this pretty little church (see photo below) and ultimately into Poplar Point(see photo below).

I have tried to capture the "nothing-ness" of my meditative rides for you several times, but I am really happy with the pics from today.

The Great Wide Open..

Look Left...

Look Right......

miles and miles of nothing.......

.......and watch out for the turn........ it's up ahead ... somewhere in the red-necked distance.

(check out the gunshots in the sign)

Saint Francis Xavier has this great fountain in a little oxbow lake across from the store. I thought it looked particularly spectacular today.

Little farm that could.....still going strong after a lifetime of chickens

Serving all 30 people in the vicinity........ the graveyard on the side really makes you wonder about the settlers out here..... "the story of a dirt farmer."

Today's story ends here...... with a pokey tree.

Date Day

The thing about a great daycare is that you want to keep your spot. So for those of you without kiddies, this means that you pay the same rate all summer regardless of whether or not your child(ren) attend. So t with that in mind, who could blame a parent for taking their kids to day care now and then so that they could have a date day with their significant other.

Now for Lori and I , hanging out is a little odd, as Pat (the coach of coaches) always has me doing something during the day. Today, was no exception as I was required to do a 90 minute open water swim and a one hour run with 4 miles 30-40 seconds faster than my regular pace.

Translated in to date day - drop the kiddies off at daycare and drive out to Birds Hill park. While I swim 8 laps around the buoys, Lori goes for a run following the scenic bike trail that is used for the Triple Threat Triathlon. Then she grabs a book and enjoys the sun while I finish up my swim and head out for 1 lap of the park.... which, if you are interested counted for 13.3K when you add in the 1k out and back from the East Beach parking lot.

It was an excellent day to train as the weather was great and there was not a cloud in the sky when we arrived at the park, but by 2:00 it had clouded over and looked like rain. It was also great training, as durning the run is got good and hot as I chased down some carrot over about 5k.

The best part was that I could throw myself into the lake when I finished and lori set me up with a chocolate milk as I soaked my freshly blistered feet. Yes friends, my feet are getting abused, as I am now running without my inserts and with the slight shift in running style that is bringing on a whole new fresh set of hurt.

To finish off date day, Lori and I still got to do our favourite summer activity.... what's that you ask? Well..... I must admit that we love to people watch... you know... just sit in a beach chair and watch the world go by and wonder who told these people that what they are wearing made them look good. If you don't understand, and you have a spare moment or two, check out - Funny Pictures at WalMart and you will get our drift. Wow! That All I have to say about that.

Darker than my normal Pollyanna

An inquiring mind asks, "What do you think about for all those hours you are alone?" "Don't you get bored training for hours and hours?"

An honest answer is "no." There is loads to ponder.

To let you inside my head.... here's what made up the majority of my ride today.

It was my last "optional" day in my training cycle. The next three weeks will be the tell as to whether or not I can truly accomplish this monumental feat of swimming, biking and running. I was asked by a close friend how I am dealing with the doubt that must occasionally break through my confidant exterior. I replied that with the nearly 11 months invested in training and the thousands of dollars in equipment, it would seem like there is no other option than to drag myself across that finish line.

I guess it just boils down to perspective. What is the goal? ....... To finish with a smile and a grin of accomplishment, knowing that I have undoubtedly proven that I am physically capable of more that I once thought. Then if that is the goal,then all I have to do is cross the finish line on the 29th in under 17 hours.

Or..... since this is obviously a one time deal, then I should go about it with the intent of maybe seeing just how far I can push myself. How much pain can I endure? How hard can I really stretch my physical being? Can I break? If I break, can I keep going.

I have wrestled with these unknowns for far too long. And, as I approach the deadline, I guess I am anxious to see how it will all play out.

I feel like I am about to be shot out of a cannon. Even though you have prepared for the event thousands and thousands of times in your head, there is nothing like the real thing to truly test your mettle.

Until then..... I guess I will just keep on keepin' on.