Two Big Weeks - One Tired Daddy

Its been a big couple of weeks as I have continued to explore my 40th year.  You may remember that in my "events" blog post of January 20, 2011 I highlight a half Ironman triathlon in Sarasota, FL that I must complete in less than seven hours in order to participate in another event on my list in September of this year.  The boring details of race day I will spare, but lets just say that this guy had twenty minutes to spare and the winner out-sprinted me at the finish by a mere two and half hours.  Event Number Two...check.

A couple of days later, I walk on a plane with my immovable tree trunk legs, more like a waddle with some zest, and fly to Boulder, CO, via Denver, to begin the interview phase of this year's project.  While I continue to seek interesting people that have accomplished so much by the age of 40 while balancing the rest of their lives, some of the initial interviewees are fairly notable in their pursuits.  Interview number one was almost a no-brainer; Dave Scott.  At the age of 40, in 1994, he got second place at the Hawaii Ironman Triathlon.  The layperson probably doesn't remember who got first that year, Greg Welch, but I'm sure that there is a large population of people who understand that a 40 year old was able to truly compete that day.  My hour with Dave was extremely informative of the challenges of competing with life, family, athletics and business.  If you don't know this story, here is a summary (video on blog, starts about 1:50) of Dave's efforts on one particular day.  Great guy but I should have asked about the mustache that he no longer has.

Not wanting to solely focus on one person on that trip, I also had the privilege to also meet with Joanna Zeiger Shenk.  Joanna, now 41 agreed to meet with me at a local Boulder Starbucks because I'm pretty sure its freaky when some wacko, no-name interview guy asks to speak with you about turning 40.  I would have chosen a public place myself.  Joanna is an Olympian, an Ironman winner and in her spare time earned a Ph.D. in Genetic Epidemiology from Johns Hopkins University.  Joanna was extremely gracious with her time even though, two days prior, she ran the LA Marathon in a torrential downpour for the entire race where she ultimately acquired hypothermia.  Did I mention that she was only 60 seconds slower than her lifetime fastest  marathon time (which was when she was 29), even with the conditions presented her.  She writes about it in her blog (fast at forty); or glob as my mother calls it.

After my day in Boulder, I got back on the plane where I then flew to Lake Tahoe for a week with my best friends.  There aren't too many things better than being with twenty people, all in one house, where you can be yourself with no ramifications...none.  Here is our driveway after a couple of days of being there.

Last note: I love the fact that I continue to receive endless ridicule from a small, but very "vocal" group about this project.  Its gotten to the point where people think that I am making this whole thing up.  To this group, its like I am writing that I woke up one day and decided to do 10,000 one arm push-ups while simultaneously reflecting, in Latin of course, on Reagan's response to the Iran Contra Affair.  I have now been banned by www.slowtwitch.com, www.beginnertriathlete.com and www.trifuel.com.  Its interesting to note that all other athletic forums have been genuinely interested and supportive.

Shark Bait

With my ultimate goal of not disrupting the family during my search of what happens on the road to 40, I usually have to have some semblance of exercise before everyone wakes up.  Seeing that my daughter is getting up earlier and earlier as she gets older, Daddy usually has to be mobile when there is a 3 on the clock.  Pretty soon I'm going to be eating breakfast the night before, lunch at 7a and dinner at noon.  Its kind of like living in Boca Raton when you're 80; all I need is a Cadillac with a Presidential Edition insignia in gold on the side.

With one week until my first half ironman, I thought it might be a good idea to try out the wetsuit that I haven't worn since 2002.  It has looked so cool in my closet this whole time; all black neoprene with wide shoulders and contoured waist dangling through several closet moves with memories of when I felt comfortable wearing a wetsuit in public.  Its really going to be a shame to actually have to put it on.

I went to the pool at 3.30a and entered the empty locker room that was surprisingly open at that hour.  The bench, where I normally change my clothes, is parallel to a full length mirror where I am forced to ultimately stare at how time has altered this wight.  But there I was, 3.30a, jumping up and down in an empty locker room trying to fit into a time capsule.  Once the leg hairs were completely removed as I was able to get the body cast up to my waist I was actually pretty impressed with what I saw.  Try to picture a cross of Dr. Bruce Banner when he gets angry with Fred Berry (See video) in his prime.

When reality set in is when I needed to get things over the middle.  Trying to figure out if I should put my arms in first or pull things over my gut, I went with arms in the sleeves, which seemed like boys size extra small at this point, and pulled things up over my chest.  With an enormous amount of zeal, I felt as if there should be a huge banner behind me reading "Mission Complete."  I'm now sweaty, alone, in a locker room (that in itself is always a bad connotation) and looking in the mirror at the sole reason why people are mistaken for seals while surfing.

Lets hope the race this weekend is well worth the self inflicted ridicule of why a 3.30a inflated wetsuit swim is a character building exercise.

Wacko and Me

How many people in your life could you call up, after not seeing them for over a decade, and say, "Meet me in the middle of nowhere-Florida at 11p on a Friday, I know its your birthday, and come volunteer at a triathlon where people started exercising at 7a that morning?"  Really...how many?  Twenty?  Ten?  Zero?  I have three and only one took me up on the offer.  The nerve of the others?!

There we were, me and Wacko, standing at the end of a partially paved path in the middle of a state park, .875 miles from the center of the all the action, as we were the support crew for the run turnaround of Florida's first Double Ironman Triathlon.  Yes, a 4.8 mile pool swim, 224 mile bike on a 6.5 mile loop course and a 52.4 mile run on a 1.75 mile out-and-back path was occurring and we took the midnight shift to make sure the 17 entrants ran around the cone that was at the edge of the shadow of the one light bulb we had with us.  Clocking their splits, giving them feedback on their timing and making sure all of them knew that they were on last leg of their long journey was our directive from the race director who gave us complete autonomy to try and figure out why these people kept coming back to see us about every 20 minutes.

I couldn't help but notice the drastically different demeanors of each person within the field.  There were those who were super serious and were hours ahead of the others and there were those who were chatty and actually kind of happy.  I couldn't believe it.  Then there was Marcel Knaus, 41 years old, from Furstentum, Liechtenstein; I hope he now accepts my Facebook friend request.  Coming from a country that is smaller than Aruba but a hair larger than Jersey (the British Crown Dependency, not the armpit of America) Marcel finished the race in first place with a time of 22:40, over an hour faster then the second place finisher.  Who knew that Liechtenstein was such a powerhouse of Double Ironman Athletes.  It seems that Marcel had some foresight and controlled the domain http://www.marcelknaus.li before anyone else could get their hands on it if you want to check it out.

Wacko and I got to catch up on the last decade and it seemed that there wasn't one day that had past since we had last seen each other.  Actually, 2a came a little two fast for me and I didn't get the chance to see Marcel finish (or hang out enough with Wacko), but I knew that the family was home waiting for me as we were running a 5k together, our first as a family, in six hours and there was no where more that I'd rather be than watching my kids cross a finish line.

I (Heart) Gravity...Sometimes

My daughter gave me a bracelet to wear last week that I proudly put on as I was honored that she even asked.  The red, white and green sparkle beads glistened under my work shirt, as May calls it, and the reindeer charm that dangled outside of my suit jacket was the accent that really gave me that "pop."  It was the coolest thing I had on and I know people were staring at it as I also had to deliver some remarks to about 150 people last Friday.  If they weren't listening to what I had to say, at least they were paying attention to me and my bracelet as I tried to talk with my hands as much as possible to make sure that they knew that May was right there with me.

After my talk, I raced to the airport, changed in the car (I was the weirdo in the parking lot that day) and caught my plane to Asheville, NC to "race" in the Mount Mitchell Challenge the next morning.  One of the greatest races I have ever entered.  Think midtown Manhattan at rush hour, in the summer, in the back of a cab with no air conditioning...on opposite day.  This race is all about friendly people, great organization, outstanding views and we got as lucky as you can get with the sunny and cool weather.

However, long story short, I am not a runner.  When the police car escort passed me at mile .5, yes half a mile into the 40 mile course, I knew this was going to be a severely long day.  I never ran a mile under 10:30 pace (I averaged 16 minute miles) because I was completely incoherent as to the complexity of this course.  When people gave me advice to train on hills, I decided to muscle my way through a well manicured golf course in the dark.  When a race organizer said I should get to a mountain before the race, I felt the local parking garage would suffice.  Needless to say, the rocks, roots, inclines, slippery slopes, altitude and intermittent ice patches forced me to concentrate on, literally, every step I took that day.

I couldn't believe that ANYONE would be able to run at a fast pace in these conditions.  All I kept thinking about was tweaking an ankle, head-butting a boulder as I fell from tweaking an ankle or why I was running with a great group of people that were 20 years older than me, yet able to keep a conversation going for hours.  I made it to mile 14, the checkpoint where if you didn't get there by 3 hours or less then you were turned around to head back to town, and realized that I was at hour 4 of the race.  It was the first time, in my life, that I actually thought of dropping out of race.  I kept thinking that the people here are so nice, so friendly, they feed me, give me drinks, (They were the equivalent of the first person in high school who could drive; everyone wanted to be with them) so why would I want to go back on the course.  The words were on the tip of my tongue...."I quit."  I knew how easy it would be to say those words to them and they wouldn't judge me.  I knew that that crew would take care of me as I was suffering through my highly unprepared outing.

So May, thank you!  Thank you for giving me your bracelet to wear.  Thank you for giving me the reminder I needed to leave that place and the chance to not say anything at all as I grabbed a handful of Costco Trail Mix, groop as we call it at home, stuff my mouth and run away from the comfort of the heated leather seats I knew would give me the false impression that everything was better.  Your bracelet, May, reminded me that this was for you and Cowboy.  I will endure the pain of the next 12 downhill miles as my quads cramp, my toes push into the front of my shoes, my big toenail becomes blacker and I essentially stumble to the finish line.

That day wasn't my best day, as the billy goats, the rest of the runners who didn't seem to complain as much as me about the course as they eased into a physiologic morning rhythm, crossed the finish line with the same bright smile as each person before them.  My smile, when I crossed, was as big as theirs...I knew I got to see you the next morning and thank you, in person, for the reindeer bracelet.

Daddy's Desperate Attempt to Cling To His Youth: Comments Gone Wild

Have you ever seen the slow motion version of the video highlighting the Secret Service agents that were protecting President Reagan the day they saved his life?  I'm also picturing Michael Jordan, in his prime, orchestrating the most beautiful ballet of grace and poise on the basketball court with what seems to be an effortless display of dramatic war to get a ball in a basket.  Or what about listening to the arguments for the 2000 Presidential Election and happening to get a glimpse of David Boies, Al Gore's attorney, as he was so skillfully orating to the US Supreme Court with a very polite, hour and a half diatribe that made it seem like he was reading a poem to his wife; we all know the outcome though.  Maybe the simplest visual is a doctor working a triage situation with essentially one focused goal; save lives.

In each case there is this incredible level of instinct, of passion, of thoughtlessness that translates to a level of production that makes you clearly believe that some people are intuitively born to perform.  They don't have to think, they don't look at notes, they don't understand that they are under a great amount of pressure and they clearly believe that they are solely responsible for that moment.

When it comes to completing the events to commemorate my 40th year, I am not one of these people.  Quite the contrary; I think about everything.  Am I going to wear the right shoes?, what should I eat two days before?, should I wear a backpack or try and wing it with aid stations?  Should I bring a camera to take photos of a place that I probably will really enjoy or will that be too much weight to carry and ultimately slow me down enough that I don't make the 3 hour/15 mile cut off which would ultimately turn me around to head back the finish line failing to complete the entire race?  For this I am overly thoughtful, I am trying to be overly prepared and I want to get past that 15 mile mark so I can finish what I intended.

Its been almost two months since I started and I truly don't feel like an athlete.  I see myself as more of a guy trying to be truthful to himself.  "I put it writing so I have to do it" sort of thing.  Lets hope that changes, because if it doesn't, then I'm just what some of this blog's readers have commented about me:

WCR says: "Lesson to the kids:  Make sure you draw attention to yourself at every opportunity.  Under no circumstance should you work hard towards a goal without letting everyone know what you're doing and soliciting kudos."


DeenafromClevelar says: "Considering the OP's other post, I believe he is having a mid-life crisis."


Lovethehalf: "Yep.  Anyone who thinks they'll inspire others with their running is delusional.  Mostly, others think you're nuts.  In the interest of fairness, it is quite possible that they are correct."

I'm looking forward to this weekend and getting to that starting line, thoughts, comments and all.

http://daddysdesperateattempt.blogspot.com/

Twitter: @daddysdesperate

Dear May and Cowboy

Daddy had an interesting week.  Now that I am slowing down the training so I can rest more for the upcoming http://www.blackmountainmarathon.com/ I definitely feel that I am highly unprepared for this first adventure to my 40th year.  This is a good lesson for me that while I have a good base, I am truly in no shape to be "running" 40 miles.  I guess what I can pass on from this is that doing part of your homework is not the same as doing your  homework.  I know that I'll be on a mountain somewhere begging for mercy as I try to save face for having even signed up for this.

I have also learned that 40 miles is nothing...compared to others.  I have a friend who ran 100 miles a couple of weeks ago in under 18 hours.  I also am learning about people who have done a double deca ironman triathlon, 20 times the distance of an ironman (48 mile swim, 2240 mile bike, 524 mile run), of which only 10 people started last year and not sure how many finished and they only have 28 days to do it all.  By the way, the winner gets $2000, which equates to roughly $4.00/hour if you are counting.  I guess that's pretty good since my first job as a dishwasher at 14 years old yielded $3.35/hour.  I should have gotten into double deca ironman winning business in order to increase my tax return.

I feel like the lesson is that there will always be someone willing and able to do something greater than you.  Even the most accomplished and successful people realize that they typically have one day, after all of their preparation, to do something great...to perform...to amaze and to win.  On that one day, they can be the best at anything.  But there will be another day where someone else will want that spot, will want what you have and will want to take it from you.  You cant be the best forever, but I guarantee it will be interesting if you ever are, even for just one day.

I also went to a funeral this week.  Aunt Carole passed away.  While you may not remember her as you grow older, Daddy will always have great stories for you to keep her memory alive.  She was so sweet, thoughtful, kind, funny and she loved asking about you guys and finding out how you were growing up.  She was super cool and she will be missed by so many.

Please understand that people will come and go in your life.  You may have a chance to spend a minute with them or in some cases, a lifetime.  However, in either case, I know that you'll always remember them, no matter how minuscule the interaction.  Something throughout your day, at any moment, will make you recall a specific moment in time that accentuates the time, day, smells, lighting and emotion of a period that may have seemed insignificant at the time.  I remember, when I was 4, a neighbor down my street that took me with his kids to Burger King after I invited myself to go...they just moved to the neighborhood.  I remember my mother, GG, running out of our house and chasing me with a dark blue, cardigan sweater when I screamed towards the house that I would be going to the Burger King with the new neighbors.  I also remember sitting in the Burger King and these new neighbors being very quiet eaters; probably thinking that they made a mistake moving to our street now that little 4 year olds think they can do whatever they want.  This is a special gift that we all have and is probably given us to remember where we came from so we can attempt to humble ourselves as life tries to change us.

Running 40 miles next week will, most likely, generate so many memories for me.  But I am more excited to experience the memories already instilled in me through the hours and hours of effort and quiet.  I plan to think of you a lot that day.  I hope that by my running and learning, I can become a better father for you.

I love you.

Daddy

The KGB Is On To Me

When I lift my shirt and look down, especially when I am running and use the bottom of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face, my gut sticks out bilaterally just below my belly button.  Not very far, but enough to make the two raised humps look like a little booty.  Couple that with the hair that grows north to the belly button and I have the cousin to the much larger version around the corner.  Can you imagine that this is all I can come up with as I'm trudging around the golf course for my second to last long run before the first event for my fortieth year?  That is the deep, contemplative thought I have when I am spending endless hours by myself trying to find out what I have learned over the previous 40 years and how I can make the next forty that much better.  This is going to be a long year...

At 2a on a Saturday, I awoke and put on the running shoes to start the 20 mile trek I wanted to get in before everyone woke up.  I'm still trying not to let any of my aspirations get in the way of my family life as I think its highly unfair to everyone else.  Do you think its strange that there is a grown man running the streets of a planned community at 3a?  4a?  5a?  6a?  If you don't, the KGB does.  For four and a half hours, the security guards (KGB) of said community followed me like I was in Rocky IV.  I kept picturing myself doing wind-sprints through the snow in an effort to try and lose the KGB from watching my every move.  I kept thinking that my run had such meaning to this country that armed men needed to be aware of my intentions.  What it looked like though was me slowly sauntering around manicured lawns in a partial daze, effervescent and freshly planted flowers permeating through the recently sprinklered landscape that was making me whiplash with each new house as I strolled by, and limping past newly purchased Jaguars and Bentleys as they sat in their driveways like they were two best friends happy to have finally found their soul mate.  Maybe that is why the KGB wanted to know why a 39 year old man is awake and running by himself through "Fantasy Land" in the dark. I ultimately took it as a compliment because I wanted to feel like I was highly intimidating to someone.  Silly rabbit, tricks are kids.

I finished just as everyone was waking up and my wife was really wondering where I went.  It seems that her husband forgot to tell her that he wanted to run that morning, so when she spent the night in an empty bed, she ultimately wanted to know where I was.  Who's being selfish now?  I was sore, tired, chaffed in highly uncomfortable places and happy that I was able to run 20 miles.  Now I just need to double that and run the first half uphill and I'll be totally fine.

I've also made some headway with some exceptional people to interview this year.  While my journey will be an interesting one, I am more interested to hear how others have fared on their walk to 40 and what they may have accomplished before, during and after this potentially arbitrary number.  I have two interviews with some superstar athletes that have accomplished so much in and out of their sports by the age of 40.  I'm excited to find other people as well who can really add to the mix; so let me know if you know if anyone...they don't have to be famous...but maybe to you they are.