Iron Pol

Many of us have experienced the pride of hearing the words, "You are an Ironman!"  And many of us have used our love of endurance events to perform some kind of public service or charitable fundraising.  We all hope to act as role models for others.

A great many athletes set an even greater example as they accomplish the same events despite a variety of physical limitations.  Some are bound to wheelchairs.  Others  are blind or deaf.  Some suffer from long-term "inconveniences" while others suffer from shorter term death sentences.  Still, they compete.  And they succeed.  Many become Ironmen themselves.

And in at least one case, one half of the team is unable to move under their own power.

But what if someone were unable to move, and unable to BE moved?  What then?  That was the condition in which Dianne Odell lived nearly her entire life.  Afflicted by Polio at the age of three, Dianne was forced into an iron lung in order to survive.  She lived in that iron lung for 58 years until her death, today.

Oddly, it wasn't the polio or any other health issue that ended Dianne's life.  It was a power failure.  After losing power at their house, a back-up generator failed, and caregivers were unable to keep her alive.

Despite being confined as she was, Dianne completed the requirements for her high school diploma, completed college courses and was awarded an honorary degree, and wrote a children's book.  Her goal was to show young children that anything is possible, regardless of physical limitations.

There is much we can learn from her story.  First, we must cherish our abilities and never take them for granted.  Second, physical ailments can be either obstacles or roadblocks.  It's up to us to decide.  So long as we seek a way to get over, under, or around the condition, it is only an obstacle.  Only by giving up do we allow it to be a roadblock.

Dianne proved that sometimes it doesn't take 140.6 miles to become an Ironman.  In fact, in some cases, we can show ourselves made of Iron without moving an inch.  It seems to me that Dianne didn't allow her iron lung to defeat her.  She allowed it to define her.  After nearly 60 years, she truly was an Iron Woman!

Saturday posed quite a quandary when it came to training with the tri club kids.  Since the Pol clan traveled Friday to camp with others at our churches tree farm, I decided to drive a second (and more fuel efficient) vehicle to drive back to town Saturday morning.  The trip back to the camp site would be by Pol-R Express.

My only concern with the whole plan was the time in the saddle after so little recent bike training.  Between the training ride with the kids and the trip to the church property, I figured I'd log at least 60 miles.  And with the effects of last week's marathon, I questioned how my back would hold up.

The concerns, though reasonable, were unfounded.  I biked about 10 miles with the one guy who was in town and available, made a pit stop for fuel, and headed out.  The first 20 miles of the day had gone well, so I headed down the road hoping the rest of the trip would be the same.

I learned two things on that ride.  Well, learned one and remembered another.  First, at the moment, the bike is the best place for me.  While my back was tight and touchy on the car ride into town, it only bothered me for one short bit during the bike back.  That was a time when I was out of the saddle to give my rear end a break.  Other than that, I felt great.

I also got a good reminder that base is base.  The condition of my back notwithstanding, I figured the bike would be tough just because I don't have the riding time in, this year.  On the trip, I made one stop for a safety talk with the youth and two for fuel.  With the time for those stops included, my average pace over the 73 mile trip was 15.86 mph.  Using actual bike time, the average was 17.25 mph.  It seems all the time swimming and running helped offset the lack of time on the bike.

It's a good lesson to remember.  When injuries limit our run workouts, we can hit the pool.  If a recent Ironman has ended a love affair with the bike, swimming and running can maintain the foundation built over a summer of hard rides.  There will still be considerable work required to get back to top form, but solid base work in one discipline can minimize the impact of missed workouts in another.

To round the weekend out, I found a lake for the first open water swim of the year.  It had better clarity than most the likes I swim, and it was good to put the wetsuit to use.  The first half dozen strokes were a struggle as I dealt with the shock of the very cold water, but I soon fell into a good rhythm.  I did about 1000 yards, and that will pay huge dividends as I get ready for the first triathlon of the year.

Regardless of how flexible we can be with mixing up our workouts to maintain base, nothing replaces an open water swim.

I can't begin to recall the number of times I was told "act your age" growing up.  And it's fortunate I have my own house, because it's something I would probably hear to this day.  I have a hard time even believing I'm about to turn 40, let alone acting like a 40-year old should act.

I think I did well in my 20s.  I had the drinking, partying, barely surviving school thing down pretty well.  When I joined the Navy, my college training served me well since the routine is fairly similar.  You simply replace "class" with "work" and "howework" with "stand watch."  The partying and drinking stay pretty much the same.

When I left the Navy, I got a grasp of the student thing.  College is way different when studies are higher up the priority list.  Having kids helped me get a handle on the "adult parent" part of life.  I like to think I'm pretty good with kids (other than 8th graders, they are a real challenge), and when the health and safety of youngsters is involved, I'm the consumate adult.

First, a picture from the Green Bay Marathon.  This is a wonderful picture showing how three co-workers spent their weekend.  On the left (holding the Gatorade) is Lisa, who acted as sherpa during the race.  She is collecting gloves from Casey and replenishing our Gu supply.  Another friend was the photographer and captured several nice shots.

It is great to have co-workers willing to participate in endurance events.  It puts it over the top to have others willing to spend the better part of a day off traipsing around town carrying gear, taking pictures, and cheering our accomplishments.  And were it not for having a baby recently, she would have been out there with us.

As more co-workers join the ranks of marathoner (full or half), many more begin to see they also have the ability to tackle endurance events.  It also helps people see there is nothing overly special about my accomplishments.  Discipline and a bit of dedication make many things possible.

In other "Congratulations" news, we received word that my brother-in-law was selected for promotion to the rank of Senior Chief in the United States Navy.  For those unfamiliar with military rank structure, there is only one enlisted rank, Master Chief, above this.  For those who are familiar with the military, you can understand my sister's pride in the fact that her husband was selected for this promotion his first time up.

To put it in perspective, only about 3% of the enlisted force can hold the rank of Senior or Master Chief.  In a 100-person division, there will generally be perhaps one or two sailors of this rank.  They are the managers, historians, and teachers of the Navy.  Despite the grief less senior sailors are prone to giving "the Chief," they are deserving of and granted a great deal of respect for their accomplishments.

My brother-in-law has always accepted the tough assignments that lead to rapid promotion.  During a recent tour as a boot camp "Company Commander," (similar to Marine drill instructors) he accepted the added pressure of helping develop a new and successful training facility, complete with Disney style animatronics and Hollywood special effects.

After leaving that assignment, he transferred to a squadron that was forward deployed almost immediately after his arrival.  In fact, the promotion announcement leaves my sister with about a month until she can congratulate him in person.  He will wear his new anchors, complete with the shiny new star, when he returns.

So, to my brother-in-law, who just joined a community as small as those called marathoner, congratulations!  Like the 26.2 miles of a marathon, he has reached another milestone in a long and demanding journey.

There comes a time in every effort where the piper must be paid.  There are a great many dependent factors, but the one constant is that the piper must be paid.  Sometimes it's a small price.  Other times the price is huge.  Sometimes it's "six months same as cash."  And other times it's "cash on delivery."

Obviously, there was a price to pay for my running of the Green Bay Marathon.  It seems I paid the price ahead of time using funds borrowed from a loan shark.  And he wants HIS payment.

The circumstances surrounding many of the marathons I've completed tend to raise the bar.  In 2005, I ran the Chicago Marathon after a night of fighting a fever of about 102F.  That race had to be completed because I was running it for a friend who was a cancer survivor.  Her attempt to complete a marathon was sidelined after she was diagnosed with a second bout of cancer.  I had promised to "carry" her through a marathon and refused to let anything derail that effort.

Like this year, last year's Green Bay race was in support of a co-worker completing his first marathon.  The conditions made things challenging, and again the situation made failure unacceptable.  I put up with the cold and he finished the race.

This year I was faced with the first real "scare" of my marathon career.  I went to bed early Saturday with both a severe cough and very sore lower back.  And for the first time ever, I stood at the start line and told my running partner there was a chance I would fail to finish the course.  Only time on the course would determine the outcome.

After several miles, I knew things were loosening up, and the occassional back spasm wasn't enough to take me out of the race.  In the end, the desire to see my co-worker through the race was again enough motivation to finish.  And he had an excess of motivation that allowed us to finish with the times we did.

Today, I'm working off the debt to that loan shark.  For example, who knows how many back muscles are used to cough?  Well, I can answer that question.  ALL OF THEM.  I imagine it would be quite a hoot to watch me trying to suppress a cough (because it hurts) until I can wriggle my way out of bed (which also hurts) so that I can stand up (which reduces both the need to cough AND the actual pain of coughing).

Luckily, the actual days are okay once I get stretched out.  I swam a quick 800 yards this morning, and things went fairly well.  In honor of the loan SHARK, I'll stay in the pool for a few days (weeks) and give my back a chance to recover.

At some point, I might even make one payment through a massage therapist.  Another first at the marathon Sunday was to hit the massage tent at the finish line.  If they can make such a difference there, it might pay to see a massage therapist with the goal of loosening up everything that has my back in knots.  Just another way to pay the piper.

And once I get closer to 100%, I can start to make deposits toward the half-Ironman I have coming in a few short months.  Because I'd rather make that one "pay as you go."

Okay, I know it might seem a stretch to relate Mary Poppins and endurance sports.  Of course, when you WATCH Mary Poppins the day before a marathon, it becomes clear.

When Mary first meets her charges Jane and Michael, she measures them up.  The tape she uses to measure them doesn't show feet and inches, it provides a description of the child's nature.  When the kids then ask how Mary herself measures up, the answer is "Mary Poppins, practically perfect in every way."

That's how things went at the Green Bay Marathon, today.  From the weather to nutrition to pace, it was a great race.  And of course, the Green Bay Marathon isn't rated as one of the top ten favorite races for no reason.

The day started at 2:30 a.m. when my daughter woke up with chest congestion.  She wouldn't allow my wife to take care of her, and it was so close to my 3:30 wake up call that I just let her take my place in bed.  I got out of bed and started my pre-race routine.  The extra time allowed me to stretch fairly well and read a bit in a book.  After checking the weather (43F with an expected high of around 55F), I headed out the door.

After finally hooking up with my co-worker, we fought our way to the start line.  The pace teams were positioned a bit oddly, so we decided to set our own pace for the first few miles and then hook up with a group targeting 4 hours.  My plans called for shadowing that team until around 22 miles and then pulling ahead of them to go sub-4.

My co-worker's plans basically called for him to throw my plans out the window.

We passed the four hour crew somewhere around mile five.  Oddly, we passed another four hour crew around mile seven.  We crossed the half-marathon marker at about 1:51.  After that, a good deal of my time was spent letting my co-worker know we were WAY ahead of pace and had to be careful about blowing up.

The temperatures were perfect, and the winds were only somewhat annoying.  We hit every aid station as planned and went through a total of four Gu each.

We crossed 20 miles at 2:48, fully 12 minutes ahead of 4 hour pace.  Just before 22 miles, I stopped for a potty break, informing my co-worker I wouldn't be catching him if he maintained the same pace.  He slowed down enough for me to catch up to him at mile 22, where he told me he felt a "major kick" coming on.  I told him to have fun and that I wouldn't be going with him.

The final four miles were a challenge, and I managed to keep him within sight.  I picked up the pace a bit as I headed for Lambeau Field and finished strong.  I crossed the finish line at 3:41:38 chip time, for 8:28 pace.  My co-worker finished about 90 seconds before me, for an amazing 3:40 first marathon.

Most importantly, we managed to negative split.  For this, I think my co-worker deserves the credit.  Had I been running this myself, I certainly would have slowed down.  Past races have shown that I fade in the second half, and this was different because I wanted to be with him in case he needed help.  In the end, I probably needed more help then him.

So this race was, in fact, practically perfect in every way.  A negative split.  A PR by nearly 15 minutes.  And the first marathon of the seven I've completed where I did no walking other than planned slowdowns through aid stations.  It felt good crossing the finish line.  And it felt great knowing another co-worker became a marathoner.

Two days from now, I will compete in my seventh full marathon (bib 1550 in the Green Bay Marathon, for those interested).  Once again, this race is to support a co-worker in his first marathon.  He is fairly talented and only the limits on his training schedule will allow me to be the rabbit.  Even so, we are targeting a sub-4 hour race, which puts me quite close to PR pace.

With a marathon less than 48 hours out, it's good to have priorities set and begin to focus on important final details.

Which is why I spent last night looking for two very specific songs on the Internet and sending E-mails to a local race director.

The music has nothing to do with the race.  They are songs I need for an upcoming sermon series at church.  In case you've never tried, it can be VERY challenging to locate out-of-production Christian rock from the mid-1980s.  Persistence paid off and I managed to get everything together and once again claim the world is mine and I can do with it as I please.

Obviously, the correspondence with the race director ALSO had nothing to do with the marathon.  She directs several local races, but not this one.  The extra time I had in the evening (since today is a rest day) seemed a good time to consider race opportunities for my kids, who are now 30 months and four and a half.  After getting the answers to all my wife's questions, we are ready to register both kids for the Oshkosh Area Triathlon Kids Triathlon.

Is it at all wrong that the impending 26.2 mile venture is less exciting than the PROSPECT of registering my kids for their first triathlon?  Well, much as Bolder always points out it's "all about the bike," it's all about the kids, for me.  It was great helping three young men complete their first race, last year.  And it was great watching a young lady break all kinds of personal records on Wednesday.

But the opportunity to sign both my kids up for their first triathlon is a huge thrill.  And the funny thing is that I won't be able to even mention it to them for some time.  Once we mention it, they'll want to do the race RIGHT NOW.  And once they learn that there are kids' races all summer, I'll probably have to cut back on my own race schedule to be able to afford their races.

And by way of the shameless promotion of another, please consider any of the races put on by Midwest Sports Events.  They put on some awesome races, bend over backwards to help out charitable groups, and truly deserve recognition for all they do.  Anyone with room in their race calendar and time in the Wisconsin area should check out the race schedule at Midwest Sports Events.

Whether training for a 5-10K, a half or full marathon, sprint triathlon, or Ironman, sleep is one of those "overlooked" disciplines.  Much like nutrition, getting the proper amount of sleep is vital to achieving the best results possible.  Rest provides our bodies time to recover from the rigors of training.

A good night's sleep is so important, one bed maker developed a line called "The T-3" which is the (or at least was) the official sleep system of Ironman.  While I'm unsure if one bed can meet the needs of every endurance athlete, we need to try to get the proper amount of sleep.  For runners, at least, the general rule is one minute of ADDITIONAL sleep, each night, for every mile run during the week.  So, if you usually get six hours of sleep and run 30 miles a week, you should try to get 6 1/2 hours sleep per night.

There, of course is the challenge.  Ironman is tough.  Getting the right amount of sleep can be nearly impossible.  By the time kids are in bed, gear and work clothes are prepared for the next day, and a bit of housework or downtime is factored in, it's easy to find even six hours of sleep out of reach.  Let's face it, 4:30 comes awful early.

In Iron Pol fashion, this week is proving to be more challenging than usual.  One need only look at my race schedule to see why.  I have a marathon on Sunday, and that means it's time to 1) get injured, 2) get sick, or 3) get lucky.  Well, luck followed Elvis out of the building.

My daughter has been sick for quite some time, and she recently shared it with her brother.  My son seems to have bounced back fairly quickly, and was better after just one day.  Last night, Mrs. Pol fell victim and was down for the count.  Though we thought our daughter was getting over everything, she was congested and had a hard time sleeping, last night.

So, I started the evening in a recliner trying to make her comfortable enough to get to sleep.  I ended the night on the floor of her room trying to make her comfortable enough to get back to sleep.  For a brief period between, I was able to make it to my own bed for a bit of rest.

That's why I question calling a bed The T-3.  I'm guessing they weren't meaning that our time there should be the same as T-1 and T-2.  Last night, that's about what it felt like.

It's amazing how things can change a person's perspective.  After spending the weekend dealing with a rather sick two-year old, I figured it was good blog fodder.  Then I read a news article about the Gulf Coast Triathlon that made a couple nights sleeping on the floor seem pretty inconsequential.

During Saturday's race, Patrick Kane, 38, or Roswell, Georgia was pulled from the Gulf of Mexico and later passed away at the hospital.

We don't know Patrick, and can only guess that triathlon was something he loved.  He dedicated an early May Saturday to completing the 70.3 miles of a half-Ironman.  An unknown and tragic situation led to his early death.

Remember that what we do has some built-in risks, and make sure you are prepared for whatever the day's training or racing might hold in store.  Though uncommon, every situation like this means we've lost another member of the triathlon family.

Train and race safe!