Iron Pol

When last we saw our intrepid triathlete...  Wait, sorry, I was just channelling another blogger.

Anyway, I believe the last "detailed" report I filed for Louisville detailed the conditions in the water.  And that would bring us to the truly interesting portion of the day, the transition.

Okay, it's really the bike, but allow me to comment on transition.  Compared to Wisconsin, I REALLY liked the entry to transition in Louisville.  That would be due primarily to the lack of a helix to climb in Louisville.  While there is a decent run from the water to the actual transition area, it doesn't compare to the trip required in Madison.

And also allow me to point out the the smile in the picture shown here is a fluke.  I'm fairly certain that every other moment on the bike was a grimace of "Dear God, not ANOTHER hill!"

Leaving T1 in Louisville requires a decision by all participants, particularly if there has been any rain in the days leading up to the race.  Since the bikes are parked in a huge grass field, one must decide to either wear cycling shoes and possibly foul the cleats or leave their shoes on the bike and definitely get muddy feet.  I opted to keep my shoes in the gear bag and decide on race day.  In the end, I put the shoes on and didn't have any issues with mud.

The run from the changing tent to the bike mount line is about 100 yards.  Most of that is, however, on a fairly wide sidewalk.  The people were out in force, cheering on the participants, and they had a lot of help for everything from sunscreen to nutrition to pointing out the line for mounting bikes.

The first half dozen miles of the bike were fairly non-descript.  Much like other races, this portion of the course can be called the "get out of town" section.  The city streets were pretty well maintained.  Thankfully, they were also flat.  That is the last time you should expect to see THAT word in this post.

A quick check of the course map shows an out-and-back portion near the beginning of the bike leg.  This portion consists of what I will call "There Go the Legs" valley and "There Goes the Nutrition" valley.  Keep in mind this is an out-and-back, so we got to hit both valleys twice.  Heading into the first major downhill section (somewhere between miles 10 and 20), we had the excitement of some significant speed.  I hit about 44 MPH without pedaling, and only the knowledge that I was going to have to go back up that hill at some point dampened my spirits.

Well, that and the fact that after hitting the bottom of the hill we started back up a hill, watching people on the return portion FLYING back down.  It was exciting to know we were now headed up a hill similar to the one we had just descended.

If you examine the elevation profile on the course map, you'll note that the second major downhill comes immediately after climbing out of the first valley.  It's followed by another major climb.  And, just to straighten that profile out, we turned around right at the tippy top of the second major climb.  I'm not sure what the profile did with that, but where it shows one down/up/down/up around the 20 mile point, there were two sets.

By the way, did you note how the map shows roughly 400 feet of climbing from the 10 mile point until the 20 mile point.  That seems pretty accurate.  It's spread way out, so it isn't truly killer, but it's a LONG way to keep going up.

So, let's move on to the rest of the course.  That's were the title of the post comes into play.  Ups and downs.  Because that's the only way to describe the rest of the course.  And I honestly believe I cannot reiterate it enough.  If we weren't going up, we were going down in order to get to the next up.

Now, before we continue, I want to point out that this picture on the left was taken right near the end of the bike course.  That was the other section that was sort of flat.  Not really flat, as you will note that I AM, in fact, climbing.  But this was only a little climb.

As with Madison, Wisconsin, where I completed one of my century rides prior to the Louisville race, this was a two loop course.  Ironman officials will say that is to provide maximum efficiency when it comes to aid stations.  I say it's so that the first lap can serve to totally demoralize you as you head into the second loop.  Or, if you're like me, you can use it as a positive, mostly by lying to yourself.  Saying things like, "Hey, those hills are mine.  I know their coming, and I've already survived them once," can go a long way toward improving morale while on the bike.

I'm not sure how much it actually improves pace, but small bouts of insanity are always worthwhile.

 The one positive of the second loop is the absence of monstrous hills.  While the hills we faced were relentless, the worst hills of the day were on the out-and-back portion at the beginning of the course.

The volunteers on the bike course were a huge positive.  They did an amazing job caring for everyone on the course.  I haven't seen enough races to know how they compare, and I can only imagine they rank up there with the best the sport has to offer.  Every volunteer went out of their way.  Those handing off drinks did their best to ensure cyclists had bottles before letting go.  If something was missed, another was right there to ensure the racer got what was needed.

When anyone stopped, there were volunteers right there to help with the bike, and take care of replenishing needed items while the owner took care of other needs.  They constantly asked what else might be needed.  I was constantly amazed at how professionally the volunteers performed, and did my best to thank them as much as possible.

The course was also very well covered by local authorities.  They had police officials at nearly every intersection, often more than one.  Though there were a few areas where cars were on the course, most drivers respected the race and did what they could to minimize interference.  I even had one passenger comment that they knew I was there as they kept the driver aware of my location.  The few times cars did interfere with my progress, I was able to deal with it, as the roads were so well cleared when viewed from the big picture sense.

Soon, if not soon enough, I was back in Louisville headed back toward transition.  And the support there was as outstanding as the rest of the course.  They had three volunteers providing information about the bike dismount area.  One was about 100 yards out.  One was about 50 yards out.  And the third was just in front of the dismount line with a megaphone.

After getting off the bike, we headed back down the sidewalk and volunteers took our bikes as we headed toward the changing tent.  In this case, Wisconsin has the slight edge.  In Madison, volunteers take the bike as soon as the rider dismounts.  In Louisville, the rider has to run with the bike for about 25-50 yards.  Quite the trick after 112 miles of riding.

All in all, the bike course was extremely challenging.  It was also a great ride.  Anyone participating in the 2008 race should put in plenty of training time riding hills.  Find some relentless rollers that are 50-100 feet minimum.  And ride them over and over.  Figure out how to get nutrition down when you are going up or downhill.  If you do constant rollers and find nice flat spots for eating and drinking, you are doing yourself a disservice.  Learn to eat ON the hills.  Because that's what will happen in Louisville.

Ironman is all about ups and downs.  IMKY just happens to have a few more than other races.

I have a post for today, but you should really go check out Commodore's post.  While mine may wind up being funny, or possibly even witty, he was particularly hilarious, today.  It's worth the visit.

Perhaps later I'll post something dry and boring about the "almost" half-mile swim and definitely 5-mile run I did, this morning.  The first day back to training can sure be tough.

Enjoy Comm's post!

I have a post for today, but you should really go check out Commodore's post.  While mine may wind up being funny, or possibly even witty, he was particularly hilarious, today.  It's worth the visit.

It's been thirty days since the words, "Tom Romnek, you are an Ironman!" were uttered.  I say "uttered" because they weren't heard.  Not by me, at least.  That says something about the state I was in when I crossed the finish line in Louisville.

That's thirty days I've had to consider the impact those words have had in my life.  Though it may be sacreligious, I have to say, "Not much."  I know, I can hear it now, "Say it isn't so, Iron Pol.  Tell us that becoming an Ironman has changed your life."  There lies the crux.

So, here's my view, and I believe it's in keeping with past statements.

Crossing the finish line to those words has had essentially zero impact in my life.  I am no more fit, today, than I was on August 25th.  To be honest, after a month of ease and recovery, I'm certainly just a bit less so.  I am no more capable for having completed the 140.6 mile race than I was after completing a 70.3 mile race.  And I deserve no more credit now than I did prior to becoming an Ironman.

That isn't to say there haven't been changes in my life.  I AM more fit than I was in December of 2005 when this whole journey started.  I'm 40 pounds lighter, wear pants with 34 inch waist instead of 38".  I can swim 4,900 yards further now than I could the first time I attempted to swim for distance.  And I have thousands of miles under the tires of my bike that would never have happened without this thing called triathlon.

I am also more capable than I was two years back.  In addition to the obvious triathlon related disciplines, I have learned to balance my life in ways never even attempted in the past.  Going from a child-less marathoner to an Ironman with two children required a lot of growth.  And true to my Biblical life verse (Luke 2:52), I have grown mentally, physically, socially, and religiously.

Finally, I do appreciate the recognition others have for the accomplishment.  Yet the pride I feel in my first triathlon is similar to that of completing the Ironman.  In many ways, that first triathlon was more grueling.  The 220-yard swim scared the daylights out of me, and I broke my chain less than half-way through the bike portion.  Yes, I am proud to have completed an Ironman.  But I was pretty stoked after my first race, which was less than 20 miles.

In the end, completing the Ironman had very little to do with the changes I have experienced.  Those changes came from completing the TRAINING required to complete an Ironman.  There are many out there who, for reasons of their own, were unable to complete the 140.6 mile race required to hear those sought after words, "You are an Ironman."  For most, I would bet they have experienced all of the changes any other Ironman experienced.  And most have the same "iron" as those who completed the race.  All they are missing is the medal and finisher's shirt (and hey, those of us in Louisville didn't even get that).

Consider this, is completing the race required to be an "Ironman?"  Does someone somehow become less of an Ironman if the DNF some future race?  And since it is plainly obvious that there is likely to be zero change from just before the finish line to just after the finish line, what is the exact point at which someone truly BECOMES "iron?"

For me, it had little to do with crossing the finish line.  Yes, being an Ironman is a huge success in my life.  I'm just not sure when I actually became an Ironman.

At a local sporting goods store I came across a cycling jersey I really wanted to buy.  It was a tribute to "The Endless Summer," Bruce Brown's 1966 surfing classinc.  In addition to being a cool jersey complete with silhouettes of surfers, it fits well with my view of triathlon.

In "The Endless Summer," surfers Mike Hynson and Robert August travel around the world in search of new surf spots, new friends, and the "perfect" wave.  How many triathletes spend their year doing exactly the same thing?  The end of the race season in the United States simply offers the opportunity to hit countries around the world and check out their race scenes.  If you're lucky, and extremely wealthy, you can chase races around the world.  The last line in the movie says it all.  By chasing the season around the world, you truly can have an "endless summer."

 Even those of us without the financial means to do that can pursue our own endless summer.  As the race season ends and the season turn, we shift our focus from open water swims and the long, winding roads to the pool, cycling trainer, and treadmill.  Well, some go for the treadmill.  I've yet to see it cold enough to warrant that torture.

A quick check of my training log shows that having two feet of snow outside does little to slow down my quest for improvement.  Hundreds of thousands of yards in the pool and dozens of hours on the bike trainer help ensure the next summer will be better than the last.  Signing up for an April or May marathon helps ensure I continue to focus on running during the winter.

And there are some out there who make me look fairly tame and sedate during the winter.  There are plenty of opportunities for mid-winter triathlons, many of which require significant prep time, as the ice must be cut to make a swim area.  While it may feel like anything BUT summer, the dedication to the sport of triathlon is evident during such events.

As winter approaches, how will triathlon fit into your life?  What plans do you have for pursuing "The Endless Summer?"

On Friday, September 21, the arbitration panel reviewing the doping case of Floyd Landis ruled that the positive test result that has stalled his career would stand.  This ruling, which will result in a 2-year ban from the sport of cycling and his being stripped of his Tour de France title, is laced with controversy.

(Picture at left, Floyd Landis after his Tour de France victory.  AP Photo)

First, there was a dissent in the ruling.  While the majority held that the errors committed by the testing lab do not automatically nullify the second positive, the minority opinion raises an interesting question.  Can a lab notorious for administrative and procedural errors, testing discrepancies, and flawed results be trusted?  More importantly, if the lab screwed up the simple initial testing process, how can they be trusted to have properly complete the secondary testing, an admittedly more complex and challenging process?  In the opinion of the minority, that trust cannot be granted.

Also intersting is the stance that Landis' lawyer has taken.  If Floyd Landis is unable to vindicate himself in this case, it is senseless for anyone charged (rightly or wrongly) to even attempt to clear their name.  Let's face it, the majority opinion admitted in their decision that mistakes were made, and the lab may well see future rulings dismissed if they continue the same practices used in this case.

Say what?!?  Future cases will face dismissal, but this one stands?  Here's an analogy.  "We acknowledge that the evidence used to convict this death row inmate may be flawed.  And we acknowledge the methodology used to convict said inmate may have been improper.  In the future, such cases will face dismissal.  But in this case, carry on with the execution."  How would you like to be that inmate?

I don't know if Floyd Landis used illegal substances to fuel his amazing victory in the Tour de France.  I do understand that there are valid and compelling questions about his recovery that tend to lend credence to the theory he did.  There are equally compelling arguments that tend to support negating the testing as potentially flawed and untrustworthy (note, I didn't say "inaccurate," simply untrustworthy).

One thing is certain, though.  Cycling (and hopefully triathlon) will not follow the same path taken by many sports, baseball in particular.  Negative drug tests will not be met with a lackadaisical attitude.  There will be no hearings 10 years from now about whether so-and-so was on steroids.  The use of illegal substances, when identified, will be dealt with quickly and harshly.  And defending oneself against such charges will be difficult.

That, of course, is the real challenge.  How do we balance strict enforcement with equitable treatment?  If a case riddled with inconsistencies and errors such as this one are still indefensible, has enforcement outweighed justice?

I guess it's a good thing it's my "off" season.  My time off since completing Ironman has been busy.  Mostly busy with things that were neglected during the challenging summer of training.  You know, little things like yardwork, house work, and other similar tasks.

One of those "responsibilities" falls into the IS category.  At my church, mostly because of past efforts, the job of caring for the churches computer equipment has fallen on my shoulders.  It's usually no big deal, as we only have a few computers, and only one of them has a connection to the Internet.  The past week, that has been the concern.

When our pastor's computer was first purchased, I took charge of it for a few days, installed some top-tier anti-virus software, explained how to ensure it was updated, and set it up to update and scan automatically.  Unfortunately, I overlooked one small detail.  The computer spends most of its time disconnected from the Internet and shut down.

So, it was no surprise when, after hearing about pop-up and speed issues, that I discovered the last update to the anti-virus was some 34 months ago.  That was roughly the time it was installed.

This weekend has been dedicated to undoing the damage that has been done over the past several weeks.  The numbers I've been dealing with sound something like Ironman training and racing.  Numbers like 135.  That's the number of spyware programs identified on the first check.  Or 3:57.  That's how long the first deep anti-virus scan took to complete.

Currently, I'm going through what might be called a brick.  I have a series of four programs I'm running to try and root out the last of the errant files and programs.  Each takes several hours to run, and I try to minimize the transition between each stage.  Because let's face it, I'd like to get at least SOME sleep, this weekend.

And I have to get this resolved in the very near future.  It is only a few short days until I go into the winter training mode.  October is going to be "get back into the swing of things" month.  And November will be the second annual "Swim every day for a month" program.  December through April will be a series of six to eight week programs aimed at greatly improving my aerobic base while helping improve my run pace.

That will be difficult to do if I'm lugging a laptop around.  So, a word of warning.  Keep your anti-virus up to date.  It takes a REALLY long time to undo a few short hours of unprotected surfing.

Welcome to the new (and hopefully improved) site.  You should note lots of changes, including the shiny, new domain name.  As I move "beyond" the Ironman journey, it was time to start with a few changes.  I'll continue to document my triathlon journeys, which will definitely include long course events, and hopefully future Ironman races.  There will also be an increased emphasis on providing resources beneficial to everyone's journey.  It might be the "Training Partners" section, helpful blog posts, or the ever-present cheerleading feature.

You can also expect changes to the layout and elements of the site, at least for the short term.  There are several "immediate" fixes in the works, including a new header section.  I will probably be playing with different page designs, so things may be moving around.  Thanks for your patience as I show a bit of indecisiveness.

As always, your comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated.  There are a lot of you with far more and better experience in designing and marketing sites, improving "curb appeal," and reaching the target audience.  If you have a general comment you'd rather send privately, use the Contact page to send your note directly.

So sit back, grab a cup of coffee (or your favorite sports drink), and come along on the next leg of the journey.  Just remember that I subscribe to the holistic method of navigation.  When travelling, I just find someone who looks like they know where they're going and follow them.  It might not get me where I was originally going, but the final destination is sure to be much more exciting.

*The concept of last two sentences was borrowed from Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams.  If you want to learn more, such as why street lights suddenly go out, you can find the book here.

Assuming this is the first and only post, congratulations on finding the new site before it is even announced.  As you can see, it is a work in progress, and will represent a "next phase" in my blogging and triathlon careers.  The goal is to provide a cleaner site with more resources and information.

If you DID make it here prior to the "Grand Opening," please let me know your thoughts.  If you have a suggestion or some friendly advice, leave a comment or send me an e-mail.  In the meantime, I'll be figuring out little things like how to use a contact form and how to get my e-mail address linked.