The Twilight Zone

Things have been interesting. Currently I am in that foggy twilight zone found between the chapters of my life. The job search is still going on. I have luckily heard back from a great vegetable and poinsettia nursery in Nipomo, California but it has been over a week since we last spoke and I am getting nervous. I really hope I didn't blow it on the phone interview. I know I am fully qualified and could do an amazing job for them. The only thing I am lacking is that little thing called experience. It is rather frustrating, you can't get a job these days without experience, and you can't get experience without a job. It is like a closed inside circuit. I suppose I could volunteer but then how do you pay the bills? Besides I have experience anyway, maybe it's not job experience but it's experience just the same. Perhaps I should start my own business. Who knows, maybe there is a market for old bikes draped in moss or something. In all, I am just lucky I still have Brianne and my parents to lean on in these hard times. But it is not that great, deep down it would be nice to be financially dependent.

Triathlon is hot on my mind too. I want to continue with my hobby but it is becoming more and more expensive. I need a trainer, Garmin, heart rate monitor, warm clothes, new shoes, etc... To keep improving and stay on track. Many people have asked me why I am not sponsored yet. It is good question but I always make up excuses like: I am not fast enough, I am not a professional, I don't want the extra pressure, I just do it for fun, or worst of all, sponsors will contact me if they want. This kind of thinking, I realize, needs to stop. I am fully capable of attracting and representing sponsors well. And to toot my own horn, I feel am able to compete well with the best of them (if I can just stay consistent and on track for more than three weeks).

So I wonder what will happen with my life; with Brianne's life? There are so many scenarios that can take shape. Will she go to graduate school here in Logan, UT? Will I get the job in Nipomo, CA? What happens if both happen? What happens if neither happen? Please, someone just let us know what is happening.

SOMA half

Depression, guilt, frustration, and even anger. These are not the feelings one wants to be experiencing leading up to a big race at the end of the year. If I am going to continue doing this sport I need to figure out how to keep my emotions from controlling me. Regardless of my feelings and condition, race day was here and there was nothing more I could do about it. At the very least maybe I should just try to have a good time right?

4:00AM, Sunday, October 23, 2011. My alarm clock began beeping from across the motel room. Both Brianne and I awoke in the dark and quietly began getting ready for my 6:32AM wave start. It’s funny looking back now but after I had decided to just have fun and enjoy my time out on the course in sunny Tempe, AZ, my head began to finally come out of my ass. I love training and racing, but I can make myself physically sick if I think about it too much. More than anything, this race was all about having fun and enjoying the experience. I took extra time that morning to savor my pop tarts and enjoy my cold coffee.

The pro wave started right at 6:30 which left the next wave (my wave) exactly 2 minutes to hop in the water and swim the 200 meters to the start line. Unfortunately, it took about 4 minutes for our whole wave to reach the official starting line. My plan for the swim was to take it relatively easy and make sure to swim in a straight line this time, not swimming any farther than I had to. Since I started far back in our wave (due to our wave not being ready in time) I spent a lot of time running into people’s feet. At the turn around buoy I paused for a mental check and realized I still felt very comfortable with my efforts. I held my effort all the way back maintaining the course and enjoying the sights of my surroundings from the water level.

Personally, I hate it when I hear people say they didn’t give a 100% effort and they still beat you. But I must admit I did just that. I pretty much “dogged” the swim.

As I made my way through transition I was making it a priority to smile and make light of the whole situation. Hey, getting out of your wet suit as quick as possible is pretty dang funny. I now know for me it is critical to smile and enjoy the whole experience of racing. As soon as I forget to do that, I seem to fall apart.

So now I’m a couple of miles into the 56 mile bike ride and I am still continuing with my 75% “dogged” effort. Unfortunately as much as I am enjoying the whole experience of the screaming spectators, the aid stations, and the warm sunny weather, a pack of about ten other riders are riding at my same speed. Since I am in no hurry, I am happy to ride behind the group (legally of course) and just watch. As we start creeping up a hill I decide to ride my own pace and so I move to the front. Then coming back down the hill the whole group starts passing me again. No problem I’m thinking, just let them do their thing. Soon I’m noticing that the first lap (of three) will be over soon and the group I’ve been trailing is beginning to annoy me with their pitiful distance perception on legal drafting and their unsteady pace. I’m feeling pretty awesome at this point riding at 75% so I decide it’s time to try cranking up the effort to 90%.

The rest of the first lap felt great and so was the second lap. I was riding hard but definitely not at full speed. Despite riding entirely below my (perceived) capabilities, I approached the end of the final lap with my legs beginning to feel funny. I was hoping they would last a little longer for the final discipline, the run.

At the start of the run I was way farther up in the ranks than I thought. Definitely nice to see, but I had to remember this is a triathlon, not a duathlon. The finish is still 13.1 miles away. The goal now was to stay as patient as I could and just keep running, even if it was slow. Despite staying patient, I started catching people anyway. The first person I ran up to, I made it an effort to talk and keep pace with hopefully getting me to slow down. My “pacer” didn’t last nearly as long as I hoped when he suddenly slowed after twenty seconds and said, “Well, good luck man.” In another mile or so, still trying to patient, I ran up to one of the pro women. “How’s it going,” I said, trying to sound normal… Nothing. “What’s your pace you’re trying to hit?” I said anyway (now knowing this was not the sort of question you ask a pro, especially a tired and irritated pro)… Nothing. “Okay, well good race,” I said as I slowly moved forward.

As I waited for my legs to fall apart at any second but still feeling okay, I made my way up on another lady pro. “How’s it going?” I said anyway, this time not expecting much… Nothing. “Well good job.” I said as I ran ahead. It was shortly after this that my hamstring had finally had enough and cramped up. Great, I have like 8 miles to go and I’m cramping already. This is going to be a long, long run home. I stopped to stretch and my hammy surprisingly felt much better. I was able to run (relatively) normal again. I caught back up to the lady pro but I didn’t feel like passing her again so I just hung back a few feet. At the beginning of the second and final lap I needed a pit stop…BAD! I had taken some electrolytes during the bike for the first time ever so I wonder if that had anything to do with it. Anyway, as I began running again my spark seemed to be missing. I was having trouble getting my feet to come off the ground and I noticed I was running the same pace as everyone else, now swarming onto the course. Soon I began having trouble just keeping up with those around me and my groin began to hint another cramp was coming. Yes, the end was upon me and even if I wanted to race, I couldn’t. I was a cramping and bonking mess. The last 5 miles I would be exercising the bonkaroo shuffle. I felt like quitting and laying down but I finished.

I finished in a very sub-par, eighth place in my age group and twenty first over all. But considering my state of mind and training approach the last five to six weeks, I am happy I started the race and even happier I finished. So now I guess it is time to sit back, take things a little easier, and think about what improvements can be made for next year. I am looking forward to a new season and I am looking forward to improving. I am even looking forward to a having a coach which for me I feel could be huge. But I think most importantly, I am looking forward to having more fun like I did here at SOMA.

The Change

It is clear to me now that something is not right. For the last ten days I have been steadily sliding into a black hole of depression and exhaustion. My problems became apparent the day Brianne left for her girls version of The Hangover in Las Vegas and the weather changed. That exact day the weather plummeted from a delightful 85 degree sunny, calm, splendid day to a rainy and snowy storm of yuck. I went out for a ride anyway and absolutely froze up solid. Cold and Adam are like oil and water, we just don't mix. Up until that point my training had been going tremendously which was filling me with all sorts of confidence for my big half iron showdown at SOMA in Tempe, AZ. But since that day when Brianne left and the weather changed, I have been sinking into a hole I can't figure out how to dig back out of.

Researching the symptoms of over training, it was shocking how close I fit the description. How did I let this happen again?! My current training did not even approach the training I did in Moscow, ID where I lived like a hermit and biked like 400 miles a week along with 40 miles of running and 15-20,000yd. of swimming? I know I was stupid back then in my adolescent triathlon days and I was obviously over trained then. Knowing that now, I take a scheduled easy day and/or a rest day once a week. If I am still feeling completely fried, I'll take another day off or make it real easy. Meals are another factor of the triathlon equation I've been paying more attention to this time around. I make it a big point to meet my protein needs, something I have neglected in the past. I have also been keeping an accurate and detailed journal of my training so I can see what I have been through and what should come next. But I guess all that doesn't matter because I am still wrong.

I think my trouble is that I can't do just ONE thing. I need to have other things to do. Even if it means I can't do those things 100%. If I am allowed to do just one thing, I will quickly become bored with the task and start doing something else. Then I will abandon that for something else, and so on. I now believe that the mind and body work more closely together than I have ever realized. Your mind needs to be, lacking for a better choice of words, "Happy". If your mind is not willing, then your body will surely not follow.

So how do we fix this problem then? I am not entirely sure but I think the first priority is to become settled and comfortable. Comfortable yes, settled no. I need to be apart of something more than myself. Brianne and I joined a little local triathlon club but I feel a little out of place. I am the only guy and both Brianne and I are the only "young" people. Not that there is anything wrong with that, its just hard to relate.

So that is the change. I know success and improvement comes with being consistent and driven and going out on days when you don't want to but so far, that mentality has always left me tired, depressed, irritable, over trained, and not having any fun what so ever. It is becoming increasingly clear now that I need a coach to keep me on track and from doing stupid unnecessary stuff. A group of crazies like me would help too... not necessarily training buddies (although that would be even better) but just people like me... for camaraderie and moral support. I think everyone can relate.

The Elephantman and a Wedding

As I sit here thinking about this past weekend's race and everything else, I have a feeling this will be a long post. There is too much that has been happening and there are too many friends to acknowledge for this to be a little "blip" of a post. So I apologize for those of you having to read this novel of an entry just to get to my point. I also apologize for sounding corny sometimes. Things sometimes sound really cool in my head but then almost embarrassing in text. So sorry for sometimes being corny... Dang, I'm still talking... blah blah blah... on with the show.

The weekend before Elephantman I attended a wedding. I was nervous that the time away from training would seriously derail my preparation for Elephantman and ultimately affect my performance at the SOMA half-iron triathlon a month later. Fortunately I was able to keep my jets cooled and everything worked out fine. Attending the wedding was probably a blessing in disguise. I had put in some hard weeks of training and a few days of rest would likely do me good. However, a few of us at the wedding were entered into a 10k run just for kicks and giggles. I'll spare you the boring details but I had a massive negative split indicating my form was coming around.

On race morning a week later, I awoke at 5:00am from a sleepless night at the Oxford cabin with my fellow NMSU Triathlon Race Club team mates. We proceeded to gear up, fill our bottles, and jam some breakfast down our throats. I never know what I should eat but I had decided that 2 brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts, a banana, and a few bites of a plain bagel would do the job along with a cup of instant coffee.

The Elephantman course is easily the slowest (and hardest) Olympic distance triathlon I have ever done. The swim is a mile in length and always seems slow, regardless of the conditions. The slightly long 26.5 mile bike is easily summarized as hilly and windy. You are either ascending a 10% grade or descending it. The last 10 miles of the bike are flat and fast but you are so tired at that point. Finally on the run, the first (and last) 3/4 of a mile is on soft sand and again, hilly. Then you run up some more hills to the turn around before repeating it in the opposite direction.

I am not sure where to place this but I must mention it. A few days before the race, my good friend Brian Perrine passed away. Brian was a member of the NMSU Race Club and his absence from the race and from life hit me harder than I thought. The final days leading up to the race Brian was on on my mind an awful lot. Even though he was gone, just remembering him and his life gave me strength and motivation to carry on when things were getting tough and looking hopeless. Before Brian I though it was amusing that people would dedicate a performance to someone, especially someone who is gone. I don't find it strange at all anymore and honestly, I feel if anyone still finds it amusing they are missing the whole point of relationship, of life, of a friend. I miss you Brian. This one is for you.

The race started as normal and we were off at 8:00. As we settled into the swim I did my best to find a fast pair of feet to follow. Unfortunately the water was so murky that it was nearly impossible to see the feet in front of you. I realized that just swimming by myself was easier. I was swimming hard but making sure to stay within my limits knowing that this race is won on the bike, most years, followed by a solid run. The swimming course was a little different this year (a big 'T') compared to previous years so you had to stay pretty alert with all the extra turns and buoys in the water. As I rounded the second to last buoy there were some extra same colored buoys floating around. I was starting to get confused so I stopped to look around and figure things out. Well, I thought I figured it out, so I started swimming again but I was mostly just following the people in front of me. Eventually I swam up to the splashing swimmers I thought were swimming my direction but quickly I realized they were swimming right at me! OOOH NOOO! I had swum to the wrong buoy! Now I had no idea where I was or what buoy I was supposed to swim to. Should I just jump in with these swimmers and swim the course again? Should I swim back exactly the way I came? I finally just decided to swim directly back to the beach where we exited hoping I wouldn't get DQed for missing a buoy. "I messed that swim up so bad!" I thought as I ran up the beach. I wish I knew how much time I actually lost but I don't. It could be four minutes, it could be one minute. Who knows?

I got out of the water in 27th position. Ouch! I've never been that far back before. Mike Montoya hollered at me that I was over 5 minutes down and although I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me I was super motivated to give it everything I had.

At the top of the first hill out of transition I started to get to work. I wanted to be a little more conservative at first but being so far back after the swim, the time for patience was gone. One by one I worked my way through the ranks. At first, passing the cyclists just ahead of me came relatively easy, but as I moved through the field, each progressive cyclist became stronger and stronger and the passes became just that much harder. At mile 15 the hilly uphill battle was over and it was flat and fast the rest of the way back. I pulled up on Rance Irvin with maybe 8 to 10 miles to go and moved into third place (not knowing that at the time). I seemed to be having one of the best bike splits of my life but would it be enough to make up for my horrendous swim?

Rolling towards T2 I couldn't believe what I just did. I took another wrong turn! What? Am I trying to give myself a handicap? Although I was having a good day physically, I was just making every mistake possible. I ended up rolling all the way around the parking lot and then back up the hill to get back on track. Again how much time I lost is anyone's guess. Likely around 30 seconds but could be 15 or more either way. Despite my little mistake around the parking lot, I surprisingly still recorded the fastest bike split of the day! Now the run... the race is on!

I stormed in and out of transition still not knowing if I was tenth or first. Someone eventually yelled I was third but first and second place must be miles ahead since I couldn't see them. Last year on the run I just sort of fizzled away, and pretty much gave up. I wasn't contentiously thinking about Brian, but each time the going was getting rough, he seemed to just pop into my head. I felt I couldn't slow down otherwise I would be letting him down. Eventually I saw second place but he was ridiculously far away. It didn't matter. I would keep pushing no matter what, all the way to the end.

I was beginning to make all sorts of weird noises and gasping groans running up the last final hill to the turn around but I made it without collapsing. At exactly mile three, I caught Adam Miller and moved into second place. I was running as hard as I could but I still didn't know if I was running that fast, sometimes it's hard to tell when you are so tired, have numb hands and tunnel vision.

The last few miles I kept thinking that at any moment I would collapse and need to be carried off in an ambulance as my vision got slowly darker and more narrow but thankfully I held it together to finish second to Michael Stoner who swam like a fish and rode like a freight train to destroy us all. Despite my efforts of combining the best bike and run splits of the day (the run was a new run course record surprisingly) I still couldn't close the gap on Michael. However, I know that my placing on this day was not my primary goal. I wanted to be satisfied with my efforts and more importantly, race for my injured and missing friends.

But before I sign off I want to acknowledge some more people who have helped me get this far. In no specific order... Jeffery Oxford- for your leadership, Taylor Burgett, for firing me up to train and race, Xavier Nolen- for being the best bike training buddy, Deanna Drayer- for your supporting friendship, Silvanna Francescitti-for your light good humor, Pietre Hamblin-Hatchell- for your cool natured friendship, Jason McClure- for your pre-race pasta dinner, humor, and everything else, David Rutledge- for being a good friend and showing me the cycling world, and finally Brianne- (I could write a whole blog entry on this one) for letting me do what I want to do (mostly) and loving me for who I am. You mean everything to me. So that was the Elephantman 2011. An interesting race to say the least but, a damn good time! Sorry this post has gotten a little emotional but I guess I really did race for my friends whether I would admit it or not. I honestly appreciate the time we spend together.

The Logan Race Club

It's true, Logan, Utah has a Race Club! Just like NMSU! However, this "Logan version" of Race Club is a little different, it is cycling only. Yesterday, after three or four weeks of trying to find them, I finally managed to catch up with them during their Tuesday Night Ride. For those of you who ride in Las Cruces with Zia Velo, it is like their "Heater" ride, meaning, it is FAST, HARD, and AGGRESSIVE.

It was nice to finally meet some other people who share my passion and interests and learn some new names (which I will probably forget by next Tuesday). Of course rolling into the parking lot all by myself not knowing anyone I was nervous as hell stuttering and shaking all over the place but once we got rolling, my nerves settled down and I began to get my feel for riding in a group again.

After the ride, where there were about three or more very hard pulls for the sprints, a couple of the riders asked if I went to Gonzaga since I had on my Gonzaga jersey. "Unfortunately no" I said. "I just grew up in Spokane and my Mom is a huge fan of their basketball program and sends me all of their swag if she sees it." However, don't get me wrong, I too am a fan of Gonzaga basketball!

So the ride went well. I managed to not make too big a fool out of myself while riding in a new group and basically just followed wheels to see where we were going. Maybe after a few more rides with the Logan Race Club big boys, I will try and give one of the sprints a try, even though I am not very good at sprinting. Overall, Logan is pretty awesome. There is beautiful scenery everywhere, numerous recreation options, and of course GREAT cheese (which seems to be my food of choice lately). I must eat a block of cheese every seven to ten days. That, and a gallon of ice cream. Thank goodness for my active lifestyle or I swear I would weigh 1,000 pounds by now.

Skyline Half Marathon (Plus 1) Trail Race

Yes its that time! It's race report time! But first, before we get to the amazing super, hot, action-packed part (giving the benefit of the doubt here), I need to give a short briefing of the past few weeks.

In July, Brianne was super gung-ho about doing a half marathon later in the summer. Eventually she decided on doing the Skyline Half Marathon in Eden, UT, only about an hours drive from Logan. I supported her 100% and was honestly, excited to be a cheerleader for the day. When Brianne registered she said that the race was lacking participants and that if I entered and mentioned Brianne's name she would get $10 off her race entry fee. Well, I wasn't ready... yet... but I had six weeks to get ready. So I registered.

Shortly thereafter, I moved to Logan and began to feel the pull and affects of triathlon training again. Brianne and I both joined a gym and I started swimming and getting the groove on with "Sammy" (my new road bike). But 10 days out from the race, horror struck! Brianne got hit by a car and fractured her cheek and orbital bone. Thank goodness she was all right, for the most part, except she was a little scratched up. Brianne is one tough little lady. It definitely could have been a lot worse. She will make a full recovery luckily, and be as good as new in a few weeks but unfortunately, the Skyline Half Marathon would be a no-go. Now Brianne would be my cheerleader. Not exactly the way we hoped it would work out but it would work out.

On race morning, we arose at 4:30am and drove to Eden, Utah where the shuttle picked us up and drove us to the start line deep in the Wasatch Mountains. Being the first race where I actually felt I had some training under my belt I started getting a little nervous. I wasn't nervous about the other people but about how I would preform because it has been close to a year since I had actually trained for a race. Plus, I would be lying if I said I didn't want to win because they were giving away some free trail running shoes to the winner. (Okay, maybe I was worried about the other runners then.) Since I don't have a job and my money is winding down, I could use some free new shoes.

At 7:30 we lined up at the start. "Remember, this is a long race, it will just be like a long Sunday run with a bunch of friends" I thought. The count down started and soon we were off in pursuit of the finish... 14.1 miles to go...

Immediately, the race rocketed up the mountain. I tucked myself into second position and settled into what I felt was a good rhythm. The race quickly spread out and soon there were just three of us huffing up the switchbacks single file. I felt the pace was strong but not overwhelming. Again, it was a long race and I was determined not to blow it in the first few miles. After about ten minutes of running, I began to notice the efforts of our ascent by my tightening calves and heavy breathing as we chugged into thinner and thinner air. Realizing that I could walk at the pace we were running I gave my running muscles a break and did some walking in our little group. Eventually I moved ahead to help set the pace but instead, I began to open up some ground on the other two. I continued my little bouts of walking when I felt the terrain tilted up too much for me or I felt I was working to hard. Towards the summit, I was mostly walking (but don't worry, I was still sucking wind like an out of control vacuum cleaner). At the very top I glanced over my shoulder to see second place, Kevin, only 30 seconds or so behind.

At last, the hill was behind me and I let gravity start to run its course. I thought for sure Kevin would immediately catch me since I don't really classify myself as a pure trail runner. However, the thought of new shoes must have been some sort of catalyst because before I knew it I was absolutely bombing the descent. I was grabbing shrubs and branches with both hands trying to keep myself upright as I leapt over whole technical sections of the trail in an effort to keep my forward momentum rolling high. I ripped around the first switchback in a cloud of dust and was pretty much plowing through the shrubbery like a bulldozer when suddenly my foot struck something... I did my best imitation of superman here but failed miserably due to one simple fact, I can't fly. I landed square on my chest in a cloud of dust with both arms still raised completely above my head in the superman pose. I got up and thought for sure I broke my ribs and torn my chin open again, but as I surveyed the damage I was mostly just scratched up.

After the fall I slowed down to get my balance and confidence back and to see if Kevin would catch up so I would have someone to run with. But after a few minutes I regained my confidence and started bombing down the decent once more but this time remembering to pick my feet up. Down and down we went, switchback after switchback, mile after mile. I glanced at my watch after about an hour of racing expecting to be close to the bottom by then. "We should be there already" I thought. "How much more abuse can my legs take?" I could feel my legs approaching their limit of downhill running as I seemed to take a little longer going around the switchbacks. But as I rounded a corner the lake we were racing to came into view and HOLY MOLY!!! it was still a long ways down there. Eventually I reached the lake side but not before my legs and body were completely ravaged from racing 7 miles downhill loosing at least 3,200 vertical feet.

I only had 4.5 miles left but they were some of the hardest miles I can remember running. I had zero leg strength left but luckily there were no hills left either. I ran up on a guy who started the race early just to run it but not race it. His name was John and we chatted for a bit (which was me mostly whining to him about how much farther we had left). It was nice to have some feet to follow for a half mile or so. Eventually I ran on ahead and around the rest of the lake holding things together oh-so-delicately for the finish.

Brianne was there at the lakeside finish waiting and cheering for me. After finishing I had to sit there for about 10 minutes before I could get up. My legs were way beyond dead tired. I watched Kevin finish up in second and I thought I was the unlucky one for falling. Apparently falling is just part of trail running. Third place was bloodied and dirty too! It was definitely a battle out there! It's funny but I think I like trail running now. Maybe I should do another one... After my legs will function again of course.

Happy I'm still alive after eating some dirt for breakfast and more downhill running than I care to remember.

Hellooooo Utah

Okay I'll admit, I need to be more positive. Reading my last post it is evident that many of my updates are of me just wining. No one wants to read that! So here we go, A positive update!

It's official now. I live in Logan, Utah! Not in a million years did I ever think that I would live in Logan, Utah but here I am, ready to make the most of it. Brianne and I moved into a quiet apartment last week as she continues her research job and I am continuing to just look for a job. Logan is located in the beautiful Cache Valley at 4,500 feet so it resembles (to a degree) an alpine valley in the Alps. The Wasatch Mountains are to the west and the Naomi Wilderness is to the east. Throughout the valley and surrounding foothills are miles of quiet roads PERFECT for cycling.

I have a wonderful girlfriend who supports and encourages me to pursue my dream and make the most of it. Now I live in an area great for training and which is centrally located surrounded with other like minded people. Everything I sacrificed for so long is finally coming together. Although if I had a little source of income that would be nice. I will worry about that later...

I am not going to beat around the bush. I am here and I am ready to make the the move into triathlon's elite ranks. I know I have what it takes, it will just take some time to fine tune things that only come with experience. Already this week I have felt enormous changes in my cycling and my run. Just how much stronger I can get, I will find out this fall as I will jump into a couple Olympic triathlons and perhaps even a half-ironman. I cant decide on either the SOMA half-iron or the Austin 70.3. Stay updated as things can only improve from here. I am ready for the journey. Game on!

Cooling off in Beaver Creek, Utah after a run at 7,500 feet.