The KodaFit Blog

Before I get to my report on the Layton Triathlon, I think it’s important to share some stuff about the time leading up to it.  Lets begin with the plan…

After a week of minimal sleep, my plan was to get to bed early on Friday night, wake up at about 4:30 on Saturday morning.  Get packed and leave for Layton at 5:45.  I would then arrive shortly before the transition area opened, giving me my pick of transition spot and then 2 hours to warm up, visualize the course and generally just get in the right mindset.

Before I begin, it’s probably also important to note that there were no adverse affects to the family due to the events which will hereafter unfold…

Friday night actually went fairly smoothly.  I didn’t get everything done that I wanted to, but as I climbed into bed around 10pm, my bike was clean and lubed and ready to load and my head and legs were nicely shaved as well.  An episode of Flashpoint later, and I was ready to go to sleep.

“BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”  “BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”

I was awoken with a start around 11:30pm.  My dear wife was freaking out.  Initially I thought it was the smoke detectors, but it turns out that it was the Carbon Monoxide detector in our room.  I staggered out of bed and opened the window, while my wife grabbed it and tried to shut it off.  After a few minutes, we finally got the awful noise stopped.

None of the kids had budged at this point - including the one who had fallen asleep on our floor, not 5 feet from where it was located.

I WAS TICKED!!  I hadn’t slept well all week, and now I get woken up by a stupid alarm, and I was feeling cranky, shaky and actually really nauseous as well.  I climbed back in bed and tried to go back to sleep, while my wife continued to worry about it…

Gradually I started to realize that perhaps the nausea, the fatique and my general dopiness could actually be a case of CO poisoning.  I went down to my computer and started researching.  My symptoms all matched, and seeing as I replaced our water heater earlier this year, I guess perhaps that was the cause.  The only thing that didn’t add up was that the detector was supposed to have 4 quicks beeps which would sound every 30 seconds - not the constant squeal we had heard.

Leaving all the windows open, I drove over to Walmart shortly after midnight and purchased a new detector with a digital readout.

I arrived home, set it up, and within minutes had confirmed that CO levels in the house were  0ppm on all levels of the house.

We suspect that a combination of dry wall dust, caused by recent home improvements, combined with a basket of toys, which the kids had left up against the sensor, likely caused the unit to either become unplugged and/or malfunction.

At 1:30 we were finally ready to get back to bed, but we were both so wired, we couldn’t sleep.

So we watched an episode of House Hunters International, and finally shortly after 2am, felt like we were ready to sleep again.

2 and a half hours before my alarm went off… Or at least was supposed to go off…

I slept quite well, until I stirred, noticed sunlight in the windows and saw 6:12 on the clock.

AAAAAAAACK!!!!

And thus began the morning of the race.

I managed to get dressed, get my transition bag  packed and get my nutrition organized all before 6:45.

By 6:55 I was at the venue, and thankfully, my spot of choice was still available.

The day went far better from then on, but I’ll include that in my race report tomorrow.

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Runners World had some rules for running without a shirt a month or two back.  According to the article, you can run without your shirt on, if…

1.  You have the body to pull it off.

2.  If you have doubts about number 1, it’s best to assume you don’t

3.  If you can avoid being within an arms length to other runners for the duration of your run.

One of my tri clubs - The Northern Utah Triathletes, put on a mini triathlon a few weeks back.  I ended up running a little late, and so my packing was left a little lacking.  It didn’t turn out to be completely bad, since I have been curious about what it would be like to do an Open Water Tri without a wetsuit.

So there I was wearing my somewhat thin and transparent 2XU tri shorts, and for the benefit of everyone else…  My Speedo underneath - and don’t worry, it’s the Endurance model, not a pair of the really tiny ones!

The swim actually went really well.  The water was perfect and although it felt a little weird to not have the usual neoprene barrier to the water - I think I liked it though.

In T1, I thought about grabbing a shirt, but all I had was my cotton club t-shirt, and so I threw caution to the wind and decided to go topless.

I should add here, that the thought that perhaps I could be running afoul of rule #2 did cross my mind at this point.

Out onto the bike we went, and for the first 2 miles, I didn’t feel too hot.  My legs were still sore from a 70 mile ride 2 days before and I couldn’t get into a rhythm.

After the turn around however, I decided to try and chase down everyone who passed me.

I passed the last person with just a couple of hundred yards to go, and hit T2 in first place.

My transitions weren’t as smooth as I would have hoped, helped along by the fact that my Garmin kept popping out of it’s clip, both on my bike, and on my running wrist strap.

But there I was in T2, getting my running shoes on, and another athlete next to me decided to inform me about triathlon rules…

“Just so you know…  You have to wear a shirt at most triathlons!”

Clearly she doesn’t know how many tri’s I’ve done, but I think her comments may have had other motivations…

First, when I passed her on the bike (After she passed me), I was probably closer than an arms length, thereby breaking rule #3.

And I think her comments confirm my doubts about rule #2, thus indicating that I was in violation of rule #1 as well.

I had a good run to finish it off though, and came in 2nd overall.

The biggest lesson of the day though I think, was that I probably shouldn’t do the topless thing, until I can get my six pack back.

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So I’m lying in the dentist’s chair last Thursday afternoon, and flipped through the channels to ESPN.   I don’t usually follow too much in the sports world, but I have been interested in the World Cup.  So I checked out the scores and all of that, and then find myself watching a story about an epic 11 hour long tennis match.

Before I continue…  My apologies to any tennis fans who I may offend by saying what needs to be said.

The commentator is going on and on about how this 11 hour tennis game has gone on longer than some baseball games, and is the longest in the sports world today.

“Oh really!” think I to myself…  “You guys have never heard of a little event called…

THE IRONMAN!!

But wait…  It turns out that this 11 hour long tennis match was actually spread out over 3 days!  Which means that these guys got to take breaks and actually get a full nights sleep in the midst of the 11 hour match.  And not just 1 night of sleep, but 2!!

And then after every couple of serves, they go over an sit in a chair, under an umbrella, wipe the sweat from their brows with a towel, and suck down on water and other beverages of their choice.

I’m sure they game took a toll on their bodies, and I’m sure there was a mental aspect to playing the same game for 3 days straight, but to say it’s the longest most grueling game in sports history…  I don’t think so!

In other news…  I’m horribly behind on my race reports, but to summarize the past two races:

The Shark Attack Triathlon was 2 weeks ago.  It was a pool sprint and the weather was cool and wet.  I had some challenges on race day, but ended up winning my age group!!

The Lunatic Triathlon was last Friday night.  It was a blast, although in hind sight, driving back from Price, Utah after the race was not the best idea.  I got home at 4am, and am still feeling the effects.  I felt like I did well.  It was reversed, so we ran first, and I felt good.  Wasn’t my fastest 5k ever, but I felt solid throughout, despite the uphill nature of the course, my recent 10 pound weight gain, and I believe it was at a little more altitude than I am used to.

T1 was quick and speedy and it was out onto the bike course.  It was dark, and a little hairy, but I passed a bunch of bikes, and only got passed by one.

T2 was insanely fast!  I came in with my feet out of my shoes, dropped the bike, my helmet, grabbed my goggles and sprinted to the pool.  I was 21st at that point.

The pool swim was worse than open water, as far as legs, arms and aquatic battles go.  They had us swim up and down the same lane, and oft-times I would pass someone as someone else was passing a swimmer in the opposite direction.  I’ll have to share the story of my ass being grabbed repeatedly as well.

I emerged 13th overall and 5th in my age group.  Actually there were only two age groups.  Over 30 and under 30.  Had it been traditional USAT age groupings, I would have gotten 2nd, and only been beaten by this guy -> Dane Rauschenberg Mr. 52 marathons in 52 weeks!

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112 miles is a freaking long way to bike, but along the journey there are things to distract you.  Southern Utah has phenomenal scenery, and when I was in awe of that, the volunteers provided more motivation and support than you could shake a stick at.

Also along the way were signs of motivation and encouragement to other athletes.  Perhaps my favorite was at the top of a particularly steep hill, shortly before ‘The Wall’ between Gunlock and Veyo.  I think it was addressed to a specific athlete or athletes, and if memory serves correctly, it may have been the Puerto Rican contingent.

140.6 because 140.7 would just be crazy

Another sign was photographed by my brother and his wife along the run course.  I don’t recall seeing it, but to be fair I was so caught up in the atmosphere, and the hordes of supporters and volunteers, that I don’t remember reading much at all during that segment.

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Sometimes when you train for long distance events, your equipment and body can experience a fair number of failures.  I was pretty lucky leading up to Ironman, but I’ll attribute that to not training as much as I probably should have.  The race itself was a different issue however.  I don’t think this is typical, but following is a list of casualties which happened during the race.

•  Goggles - I have a pair of blank tinted Speedo Vanquisher racing goggles.  Somewhere between the swim exit and grabbing my T1 bag, I dropped them.  There were a couple of pairs in the Lost and Found the next day, and I think I found mine - probably need to mark them somehow!
• Bike Computer Magnet - There is a small magnet which is attached to the spoke on my front wheel, it is used by the computer to measure my speed.  It cracked about a year ago, but the super glue I applied seemed to work.  Around mile 12 of the bike, I heard something in my spokes…  shortly there after the speed showed 0 and I noticed the magnet was gone.  Coincidentally, I had powered up the Garmin just a minute before, so I just used that instead.
• Garmin Speed Sensor - Fortunately I only need this for indoor riding, and with summer approaching, I’m hoping I have 8 months or so to replace it.  I heard something get caught in my back spokes shortly after the bike segment began, but I only noticed when loading my bike up for the long drive home.  There is a little arm on the sensor which comes out to measure speed - from another magnet.  It had been completely ripped off, leaving a couple of small wire dangling.
• Aero Bar Spring - I have a road bike, and I use clip on aero bars.  The set I have is spring loaded, so that the pads pop up when you’re not using them, allowing you additional places to hold on and steer the bike.  Around the middle of the bike segment, my right hand pad wouldn’t pop…  Turns out the spring had broken.
• Pound of Flesh - Something is up with my wetsuit closure…  I think it may be linked to excess skin on my neck, and unusual muscle formation on my upper back (or bad posture), but somehow the scratchy side of the velcro from my wet suit neck closure ended up against my neck.  It worked through a think layer of Body Glide, a large waterproof bandaid (I was prepared!!) and then proceeded to scratch the hell out of the back of my neck.  2 weeks later, and I still have part of the resultant scab…  And when persperation flowed over it on the bike and run segments…  Ai Chi Wow Wa!!!

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They say a picture is worth a thousand words…  So I’ll try and keep this brief!

The following was taken yesterday morning, right before we left our hotel to return home.  I’m afraid the quality isn’t that great, but perhaps I can get a better one next time my cellular contract expires, and y’all can look forward to better photo’s in the future!

3 little things you might note from the picture…

1. The wicked bad sun burn on my shoulders. It’s been improving day by day, but it’s still pretty bad. I started putting sun screen on my shoulders, but the alcohol in the brand I use was dissolving the temporary tattoos with my numbers on… So I stopped… IDIOT!

2. The temporary tattoo stuff apparently makes a great sunscreen itself. I have 853 burned into my shoulders now!

3. You have to look close, but there is some wicked wetsuit rash going on on the back of my neck. I don’t think it’s the standard rubbing stuff though, somehow my suit, swim cap and excess skin on my neck, caused the spiky side of the velcro to end up on my neck… And then later in the day, when sweat starts to run over it… Ai Chi Wawa!!!!!

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And I’m not talking about the fact that it’s only a week till IronMan!

So I go to the pool today, go get changed, throw my clothes in my bag, grab my goggles and lap counter, stuff the bag in a locker,  close it, grab the towel and I’m ready…

Which is when I realize that I forgot to grab my lock…

So I open the locker, pull my bag out, get the lock out, close the locker, and lock it securely.

Ready to go…

Except, my bag is now sitting on the bench, whilst an empty locker is secure.

I finally got it figured out, and with gear secure, I went and got a very nice swim in, all the while feeling like a moron!

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Before I begin…  I’ve made an amendment to my last post.  It seems as though my cycling shoes may be too loose, resulting in symptoms which made me think they were too tight. I’m off for a ride in a few minutes with tighter shoes, and hopefully less pain…

And now…  Last nights offering for you:

In a rather shocking and unexpected twist, the case of Pantz v Leggs met with a rather sudden conclusion last week.  I would have spoken out sooner, but as I am sure you will observe the drama associated with the ending of this saga needed some time to sink and flush itself out.

Allow me to introduce you to the players in this interaction…

Pantz is a pair of beige dress pants, which I believe where purchased by myself from Walmart about 2 years ago.  If memory serves correctly, they were actually on the clearance rack, most likely for reasons which I, being a man did not understand at the time.  My sweet Mrs however has since explained that apparently the multi-pleated front is a fashion faux-pax, and statement which due to several season of “What Not To Wear”, I feel that she is more than qualified to make.

Leggs are my own two legs.  Somewhat hair and oddly lumpy around the knees.  They have a small scar right below the left knee and what looks to be a rather faint birth mark on my inside left thigh.  Me and legs have been through a great deal together, from hikes along the African coast to mountain trails in a rain forest.  They’ve been on 5 of the world’s 7 continents and are still going strong.  They were unfortunately the first victims of my recent bout with insane endurance pursuits.  When I started, they were beset with a fair amount of ankle and lower leg pain, and following the conclusion of my first 5k race, I was to discover that chaffing in the upper and inner thigh region had resulted in a nasty and rather blood patch of pain which took over a week to heal.

It was last Thursday when things started to go awry.  Me and some friends from work decided to use our lunch break to go on a walking tour of some neighborhoods in the Avenues district of Salt Lake City.  Seeing as it was only a walk, I opted to forgo the addition of compression shorts to my attire, something which has been an integral part of my exercise routine since the aforementioned chaffing incident of 2007.

The walk was very pleasant.  The sun was shining for part of it, and we got to see some rather quaint and unique homes.  Midway through however, a rather chilly wind picked up and ominous clouds appeared off in the distance.  It was about the point that we began to retrace our steps back to the office, when the weather change happened.  10 minutes later, the dark spots began to appear on the pavement as the precipitation commenced.  We went from a walk to a quick walk, to a jog, to a run, or as best as one can run when wearing dress clothes.

Part way down into Memory Grove to traverse over to the State Capital, I began to feel some tenderness down below.  I was hopeful that with a little weightloss since the chaffing incident, as well as more miles spent running that my legs would be able to withstand the friction a little better.  Pantz on the other hand, seemed determined to protest the running and the weather, but rubbing harder.

You’ll be please to know that Leggs held out well, and while there was some tenderness at the time, it was nothing which lasted very long.  It was a gallant effort by Pantz, but in the end he just wasn’t tough enough.

The final blow came several hours later as I walked from my cubicle to my car.  At one point in that journey, as decision may be make between jumping up a small retaining wall and taking a short cut, or going around the wall via some stairs and a short walkway.  We’re probably talking a savings of about 20 feet with this shortcut, and maybe 10 seconds in time savings at the most.

I can run a marathon, and train upwards of 30 miles running and 100 miles biking a week, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to stretch myself and walk those extra 20 feet to get to my car.  And so I opted for the jump over the wall.

And that was when it happened…

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!

In a shocking and somewhat embarrassing conclusion, Leggs got one up on Pantz and literally ripped him a new one.  I was left with the remaining portion of my walk to the car torn between reaching down to see just how bad it was, and thus drawing attention to the fact that I was walking around in ripped pants, or simply walking as nonchalantly as possible and hoping no-one would notice.

Pantz has since been relegated to the trash, and earlier today made his way via government funded transport to the Davis County landfill.

Leggs are still going strong and spent lunchtime on the same roads as last week, but this time resting securely in a pair of compression shorts.

I do have pictures of the aftermath, but am hesitant in posting them since…  Well, let’s be honest here, I’m not exactly a 19 year old swimsuit model, and so I think the appeal of underwear shots of yours truly might be limited at best.

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I woke up this morning with a bit of anxiety.  My approach to most races is to try and put them out of my mind.  If the race isn’t too big, usually I’m pretty successful at this, which inevitaby leads to running around on race morning, like a mad-man, trying to make sure I have everything.

I don’t think I’ll have this problem with IronMan in May.  I’m already far more stressed out about it that I have ever been for a race, and the plan right now is to arrive in St. George 3 or 4 days in advance of the race.

I woke up dreaming about the race this morning, particularly about getting my bike and my special needs bags checked in.  The situation I found myself in was one where my race bike was somewhere else.  I think this is a subliminal message from myself that I need a dedicated race bike, since right now, my training, road, time-trial and race bike are all the same machine….

With the bike somewhere else, I was trying to still get it checked in, and I couldn’t find my id either.  It was a weird dream.

At that point I woke up.

It’s my day off work.  My day to sleep in.  It was a little before 5:30am.

If dreams mean anything, perhaps I’m worried that I’m not going to be ready for the race.

And so with that, I hopped out of bed, brushed the old chompers, grabbed my swim bag and headed off to the pool.

2700 yards, dodging the old ladies doing aerobics and I’m ready to start the day!

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I may need to rethink how I write my race reports, or perhaps I need to rethink my choice of races - and then again maybe not.

I link to this race report on an Xterra down in South Africa though Conrad Stoltz‘ blog.  Words by me cannot do this piece justice.

Xterra Grabouw

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