Iron Pol

I know, it's been a while.  Because of that, I'll refund everyone's dues for the month of June.  Keep an eye out for those reimbursements.

In addition to being busy, I wanted to keep the Run for Ron Charity event at the top of the page.  The donation link is still in my profile, and I hope you'll consider making a donation.

With just two weeks left until the High Cliff half-Ironman, I'm a bit concerned about race day conditions.  Rumor has it we're supposed to train like we race.  If that's the case, I hope it's rainy, windy, and cold enough to make snow a real possibility over the rain.  Because that's about all I've been training in, lately.

Though it's been tough commuting to work, I managed one such ride May 28th.  It was in the mid-40s the entire trip in, with a headwind and rain.  When I left the house, I had on my running tights with tri-shorts, a long sleeve jersey over my tri top, and gloves.  I was concerned with what I would do when I got to warm.

As if...

Late in the ride I became more concerned with how I was going to change a flat tire with frozen hands.  Apparently the answer is, "Not very well."  I barely avoided blowing my last spare tube when I inflated it with part of the tube outside the tire.  Thankfully, I did have one more CO2 cylinder than tubes.

It was somewhat better after work as I headed to a bike shop near the office to replace tubes and CO2.  Two minutes down the road I felt my foot slipping and figured I'd broke one of my cleats.  I "uncleated," looked down to see what was wrong with the cleat, and wondered where my pedal had gone.  All that was left was the shaft of my Speedplay.  Luckily, I found the pedal still in my cleat.

At the bike shop, I was able to replace the tubes, CO2 cylinders, and properly inflate my tire.  The weren't able to provide much help with the pedal, so I pushed it on and biked home hoping nothing else would go wrong.

Obviously, the wind had changed direction and I had the same headwind going home as I had going to work.  And home is uphill.

Saturday, I went out for my final long ride prior to the race.  I hoped to get in 60 miles.  When the rain started five minutes after I started, I shook my fist at the heavens to show my determination to stand up to the elements.

By the way, our high temp on Saturday was 53F.  That was the temperature at midnight as the temps fell through 50s into mid-40s territory, which is where they were at during my windy, rainy ride.  Fortunately this time, I only had a headwind in one direction.

So far, this year, only one of my rides has been in temperatures any warmer than 50F.  Most have been in the rain.

I am fairly confident that race day will be sunny, windy (during the swim and bike), and somewhere around 100 degrees.  I will burst into flames somewhere around mile 45 of the bike.  Luck will be with me as the wind prevents the flames from totally engulfing me.

That luck, and the wind, will die as soon as I step off the bike.  It is most likely I will spend the entire half marathon dumping cups of water onto my head to douse the fire as I continue to deal with spontaneous combustion.

Still, I will be there.  I will race.  I will have fun.  And perhaps, just perhaps, I'll live up to my expectations.

Not on that list, however, is a PR at the event.  The last time I raced here, I was a few short months away from Ironman and in a far different place.

One of the things people grow accustom to as they get older is the loss, through death, of friends from school.  Sadly, we sometimes have to face that harsh reality far too early in life.  Such was the case, this week, when another classmate was lost to cancer.  Specifically, renal cell carcinoma.  Few of you reading this know Ron.  His family maintained a blog of his battle, here.  A close friend established a memorial page, which is likely to grow in time.  (Picture courtesy of Sam Nail)

Obviously, any battle with cancer is a painful situation.  That pain is shared by the family and friends of the patient.  In this case, Ron is survived by a wife and daughter, Vickie and Brooke.  In addition to picking up the pieces of a shattered life, Vickie must deal with the burden of medical bills from this battle.

Ron's friends will be hosting a variety of charitable events to help the family.  I, too, will be throwing myself into the effort.  And the best way I know to do that is to run.  As indicated on the Training and Racing page, I have the Green Bay Marathon on the horizon.  It is a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the life of Ron, and try to raise money to help ease the financial burden his family now faces.

To that end, I am turning to the Tri Blog Community.  Obviously, I know we all receive dozens (hundreds?) of solicitations each month.  Most of those, however, don't come with the opportunity to truly test someone's mettle.  In this case, the someone is me.  The mettle?  An ultramarathon.

I have contacted Ron's friends in pursuit of donation information.  They have established a memorial for the collection of funds, and that will be posted here as soon as it is available.

Ron spent the last four months in the fight of his life.  Nothing I experience in a race, whether 26.2, 40, or 50 miles can compare to the challenges he faced in that battle.  But I will use this race to honor his efforts, and to try to help his family.

There are two things I will need from you, my friends and family.  First, I will need your help in raising those funds.  Second, I need your input on how this "deal" will work.  My first thought was $10/mile, 50 mile limit.  Something inside me says that's a pretty low bar.  My second thought was $20/mile, which seems perhaps a bit high.

My third thought is a bit complex.  For everything up to $300 contributed, I will run the marathon in Ron's honor.  If that amount is exceeded, I will run a 40-mile ultramarathon.  And if $1000 is raised, I will make it a full 50-mile ultramarathon (attempt).

Let me be brutally honest, here.  I am ill-trained for a 50-mile ultra.  My training for the next several weeks just got interesting, on the chance that I will tackle such a race in three weeks.  So any contributions over the agreed amount will force me to truly share in a small portion of the pain experienced by Ron and his family.

Nothing can take away from the anguish of Ron's wife, daughter, family and friends.  What we can do is try to honor his battle and minimize the ongoing pain felt by his passing.

Update: I received a note from one of Ron's very good friends with a view interesting comments.  He pointed out that Ron was an avid runner, and was well on his way to completing 1000 miles in 2008 when he was diagnosed with cancer.  I'll try to find out just how short he was of that goal, and take that into consideration when planning this run.

Over a dozen half-marathons.  Approaching 10 full marathons.  Preparing for my fourth half-Ironman.  One Ironman and two ultramarathons.  So far, none of them has brought me to my knees and required me to concede defeat for the day.

So why is it so hard to hit the dentist's office and let them work on my teeth?

I went in to have a filling repaired.  They have me now, and have no intention of letting me off easy.

I'd rather do another Ironman.  It's easier.

 I've been a member of the USAT for a few years, now.  I initially joined in the summer of 2007, my second year of triathlons.  That was also the year in which the race day insurance fees ($10) would have exceeded the $30 annual fee.  I've maintained my membership for a variety of other reasons.

Obviously, as a participant in the sport, it makes sense to at least be a member of the key governing body.  In addition to staying aware of that governance, there are minor benefits, such as Inside Triathlete, partner discounts, and the afforementioned race day insurance savings.  And then there are the less tangible benefits.

You'll have to stick with me, here, for a moment.

In December, my family got together at a local pizzerria for dinner. As it was snowing heavily, that night, I carried presents and other things to the car ahead of the family.  When my wife got to the car, she started it up with her keys.

I opened my door, realized the car was already running, and threw my keys into my pocket.

Or so I thought.

The next morning, no keys.  My first thought was that the keys must be somewhere in the house as I had managed to drive home the night before.  Then I remembered I had used my wife's keys.  Mine were nowhere to be found.

I went to the pizza place, checked their lost and found, and wandered through the newly plowed parking lot.  I went so far as taking a shovel and digging through the snow piles resulting from that plowing.  No keys.

Fast forward three months to today.  Mrs. Pol just called to let me know she had received a call from the owner of the trophy shop right next to where those snow piles had been until very recently.  He left a message on our machine.  "I don't know if this is the right Tom, but if you lost your car keys, I have them."

I asked my wife how he knew they were my keys.

Then it dawned on me.  I have one thing on my keychain that has my name on it.

My USAT membership card.  Get yours, today!

Members of the Fox Cities Triathlon Club have a mantra developed from a comment uttered by one member several years ago.  "There are no finish lines, only new beginnings."  As triathletes, we all know there is nearly always a "next" race.  Even the final race of a season is simply the beginning of the off-season.

I have been archiving files, and came across lots of old pictures from various races.  It made me realize just how long this journey of mine has been, and I thought I'd share some of the "new beginnings" from the past several years.

This is the photo from the finish line of my first marathon in 2004.  If I look beat, it's because this race took a lot out of me.  In addition to being my first attempt at 26.2 miles, I had struggled with hamstring issues after suffering a minor pull about two weeks prior to the race.  My "taper" consisted of 10 days with no running, plus a trip to New York the final days before the event.

Though I rarely use medications for pain, I took an extreme dose of ibuprofen to help ward off any issues from the hamstring.  That held me through about mile 21, at which point I figured I could walk to the finish if I had too.  Obviously, I was pretty proud of succeeding at the distance.

At some point in my marathon training, I started blogging about politics and running.  One of the many friends I made through my original blog was a cancer survivor battling a second bout.  Her medical challenges prevented her from participating in the marathon for which she was training, so I ran the 2005 Chicago Marathon in her honor.

I carried a camera with me, stopping along the way so people could get some pictures.  The shots I got at the finish line were pitiful.  This one of me and the Elvis impersonator is far cooler.

Prior to even completing the Chicago Marathon in 2005, a group of eighth graders challenged me to participate in a triathlon.  They felt that "one more marathon" wasn't really a challenge, while a triathlon would be something new.  I hit the pool, put my mountain bike through the paces, and signed up for the Trinity Triathlon, a local sprint race.

Breaking a cardinal rule of racing, I bought a tri-bike that was unavailable until race day.  With little more than a ride around the parking lot, I took the bike out onto the course.  The price to be paid for that little mistake was running about seven miles of the bike course, barefoot, after breaking the bike's chain.

I was dead last, but finished the race.

After completing my first triathlon in June of 2006, I signed up for two others in short order.  The first was a race with a co-worker, and the second was the Oshkosh Area Triathlon Olympic distance race.  The Oshkosh race was basically a challenge to myself.  The main goal?  Complete the entire swim without breaking freestyle form.  In my first two races, I struggled through the swim, completely freaking out in the first.  The picture shows that I survived what was my longest race at that point.

And yes, I completed the entire swim without breaking freestyle form (sighting and turning aside).

In September of 2006 I participated in my fourth marathon and second Fox Cities Marathon.  I had lost a great deal of weight, learned a lot about running, and become considerably more fit than when I ran my first marathon in 2004.  I returned to the Fox Cities Marathon.  My goal was to cut nearly 45 minutes from my PR and go under four hours.

This picture says it all.

In my fourth marathon, I broke four hours.

Shortly after the 2006 Fox Cities Marathon, a chain of events resulted in my racing the 2007 Spirit of Racine half-Ironman race, my second 70.3 distance race.  This is another event from which I didn't have a good finish line picture, but Iron Wil's husband James treated me like a pro getting some awesome action shots, like this one of me leaving the water.

I appreciate pictures like this, as swim and bike pictures are so incredibly challenging to find.

In September of 2007, I crossed the finish line at Ironman Louisville.  It is one of the proudest (and most tired) "new beginnings" in my endurance race career.  While many consider an Ironman finish the culmination of a long journey, I viewed it as just one more step in an on-going mission.

I truly hope that this is only the first Ironman finish, rather than the last.

In 2008, my focus shifted from ultra distance triathlons to ultramarathons.  After completing marathon number six and half-Ironman number three, I began training for The Fall 50 ultramarathon in October.  Along the way, I completed the Fox Cities Marathon for the third time.  This time, I ran the half-marathon course from the finish to the start prior to the beginning of the race.  This is the finish line of that race, and I think I look alright for having just completed 40 miles.

One month later, I completed that 50-mile race in just under nine hours.  I don't have a picture from that finish, but that's okay.

In the end, it was just one more new beginning.  There are more new beginnings coming in 2009.  With a marathon, half-Ironman, and double marathon in planning, I hope to cross a lot of finish lines, this year.

Steve, of Steve in a Speedo?! Gross is well known for his foot issues.  He is equally well known for posting pictures of his battered feet.  Since I very rarely get blisters, I had to take this opportunity to pay tribute to Steve and his blistered self.

This little beauty snuck up on me, and I'm not entirely sure it didn't start, get worse, and bust open in nearly one fell swoop.  I ran at the YMCA Tuesday morning without any noteable heal pain.  It was, in fact, a very mundane run off a modest swim.

After my workout, the kids wanted to go sledding, so I loaded up the gear and we headed to the hill.  It was during the walks up the hill that I noticed the stabbing pain on the back of my heel.  My first thought was something in the shoe (or perhaps a bunched up sock).  I pulled the boot off right there on the hill and adjusted everything.  That did little to relieve the pain, so I spent a lot of time walking backward up the hill, thinking there was something wrong with my boot.

It wasn't until we got back to the car and I switched to street shoes that I realized the blister was there.  I have the distinct impression it was the result of old socks, my boots, and the uphill walks.  I wore very poor socks to make sure my feet would get cold before the kids' feet.  Normally, I wear much better hiking socks.

I've run marathons with no socks, and don't wear socks in triathlons except for Ironman distance races.  I very rarely get blisters, so this surprised me.

The dry skin on the feet is pretty common, though.  And they're always that ugly.

My plan for the day included a 40 minute run.  I put my running shoes on, and decided it was a bad idea.  I replaced it with a two hour ride on the trainer.  Though the band-aid and the socks I wore to prevent further damage made my shoes pretty tight, I figured it was better to be on the trainer with the option to stop than out on the road if the blister started bothering me.

Luckily, the snow should be melting, soon, and sledding won't be much of an option for the rest of the season.  And if the blister doesn't heal quickly enough, I'll have to break out the super-glue...

Today, I'm feeling something that becomes all too rare during the long, Wisconsin off-season (otherwise known as winter).  No, I'm not talking about sun-burn.

I'm talking about the widely familiar burn our muscles feel after a solid workout.  Many of my winter workouts are base building.  And though base workouts are vital for a successful race season, there is something about the "feel good" pain associated with a challenging workout.

My current muscle aches are related to workouts from Tuesday and Wednesday.  Tuesday's swim was scheduled to be a longish workout of 2500 yards.  My earplugs weren't cooperating, and I was getting water into my left ear.  That happens to be the one with the ruptured ear-drum, so letting water in is a bad idea.  Lucky for me, I'm a right side breather, so I was still able to complete 1000 yards.

Since 1500 yards represents a bit more than 30 minutes of my time, I decided to make an extra appearance in the weight room for some core body exercises.  I ran through a more rigorous series than I've done for some time.  My abs and glutes are paying the price, even two days later.

Yesterday, I hit the track for my MWSLR (mid-week sorta long run).  I put in two sets of 10 x 20 second strides, with 40 seconds between strides.  For those unfamiliar with the term, strides are speedwork designed to increase turnover.  For the 20 second stride, I target 33 left foot strikes, for a cadence of 100.  As we get closer to the race season, I'll work on increasing the cadence toward 120.

I'll never race at that cadence, but doing the strides helps increase turnover during normal running.  And it tends to push me toward LT, adding the benefits that provides.

Needless to say, 20 minutes of quality speedwork the day after a solid core body workout has my body feeling the burn.  And this is a good thing.  It means the long and boring runs of the winter "off season" are over.

And that means the race season is approaching rapidly.  And that, my friends, is what all the work for the past several months is all about.

I spent last night racing against some of the world's best cyclists as they completed stage five of the Amgen Tour of California.  And while I had a much easier (and shorter) ride than they faced, the sprinters still KILLED me at the end of the race.

Race season offers the opportunity to get in some training while watching the races.  With the bike on the trainer, I started the workout watching E.R.  Since I was a bit late getting going, I had to continue my ride after the show was over.  I flipped over to Versus so I could "race" against the peloton in the ToC stage.

For the purpose of "realism" I established some simple guidelines for the workout.  While the race was on, I had to be in the big ring with a low gear and keep cadence with the cyclists on T.V.  That forced me to push my heart rate and work the legs.  Commercials were for active recovery.  That works really well, because it creates an irregular pattern of higher and lower heart rate efforts, while keeping a bit of control of the time spent at either level.

I was only about 90 minutes in when the peloton reached the finish line.  Despite their being better than 100 miles ahead of me, there is NO WAY I could have kept up with them in the sprint to the line.  Cavendish hit nearly 40 miles an hour in that final push.  Amazing!

Regardless, using the race coverage translated into a more intense workout than might be achieved watching "regular" T.V.  It might be time to invest in some cycling videos so I can use them when there isn't a race being broadcast.