Are you gonna live your life wondering, standing in the back, looking around?

One of the deepest questions we get asked as endurance athletes is, "Why?"

And they mean: Why get out of bed at ridiculous hours and do crazy workouts? Why are your priorities what they are? What is the point? The answer would seem easy for the pros. But I doubt that 99% of professional endurance athletes can justify money as the reason. For amatuers, the question is even more difficult to answer. The cocky, typical answer goes something like:

"If you have to ask, you wouldn't understand anyway..."

I admit that I have used or at least considered using that response. However, what happens when we ask ourselves the question? This is one of the deep thoughts that entered my mind during my ridiculous long run today (see below). It took me a little while to remember, honestly. Then the runner's high kicked in and there it was. I remember when I could not run more than a mile or two straight (not very long ago in the big picture). It took a LONG time to get over. It is hard to keep running when you're overweight. For me it was shin splints. I ran to lose weight, but running made me injured and I couldn't run. Frustrating? Absolutely. Did it get the best of me? More than once. But I didn't give up forever.

What happened to me? One day I ran as usual. At the time my daily run was two miles to try to lose weight. One loop around the U of A as usual, and I was back at the house. But wait, I could keep going! So I did. Not much further, but more than I planned. Suddenly it clicked! My limits were not what I thought. It was an turning point. It was empowering. It was...fun? Running? Nah, couldn't be...

Many miles and several years have passed, and once in a while I forget why I run. And then I set out on a typical long run (for me defined as something over eight or so miles). But I get that feeling again-unstoppable. Am I the fastest runner around? No way. But I can go far. I can run ridiculous hills. I have yet to find my limits. In my running-only days, running was the method of torture. Now, swim-bike-run. The human body is an incredible vehicle. The obvious questions--what are my limits? How do I find them? I go for something ridiculous. Something I don't know if I can finish. Today was one of those days.

Today I set out for a long run. It is Sunday, of course. So I finally decided to go for Wasson Peak, the highest peak in the Tucson Mountains. The obvious route was to leave from the Desert Museum. Something like eight miles roundtrip. But I wanted something just a bit more epic. Instead I chose a longer route. How long? I didn't want to add it up. Definitely over ten miles, so it would work. Challenging? Yes. Definitely a lot of climbing, but it can't be that bad (the aerial from Google Earth makes it look easy after all). The TriCats run was the Phoneline Trail at Sabino Canyon. It can't be harder than that. I knew it was fairly serious when I went for nipple guards and my camelback. Plus a map! My first time EVER running with a map. To be prepared, I packed a few gels along with about 40 ounces of water, my phone, and my camera. Then I set out. Don't think about it. Just go. This is just past the start of the Cactus Wren Trail at Rudasill and Sandario. That is Wasson in the distance:















Basecamp was Rudasill and Sandario on the west side of the Tucson Mountains. I assumed that it would be relatively flat at the beginning, leading up to switchbacks after around four miles. Then pain. I knew it would get tough. The first four miles to Ezkiminzin Picnic Area were pretty much as expected, but the incline was more than gradual. But otherwise nothing remarkable. Definitely a good warmup. I checked my map and finally figured out the right trail (Hugh Norris). Increasingly steep for about a mile. Then switchbacks--serious switchbacks. I have to say that it caught me a little off-guard, and I am a pretty decent uphill runner. I would think about slowing down and then I could see the next turn. Had to break it down into smaller increments, and suddenly I was at the ridge.

Looking back down:














It was relatively easy for the next mile, but the switchbacks were ridiculous at Amole Peak. Struggled through that, and then could see Wasson from the top! From there it was no problem. I could see the end, and I was going to be able to make it--running! I spent a few minutes at the top enjoying the view and met a bunch of nice people. Some views and video from the top:

Tucson:














Looking north toward the Silverbell Mine (and my car):


















The run back to the car was relatively unremarkable. High points and low points. Ran out of calories with about a half hour to go, and water with about two miles left, but still felt decent at the end. Two more videos from the run back and at the finish:





Basic stats:

Distance: ~16 miles
Run Time: 2:33:55 (1:28 out, 1:05:55 in)
Max HR: 176
Avg HR: 155
Min elevation: 2262'
Max: 4687'

Was this run necessary? No. I could have more easily done my standard 10-miler from home. Will it lower my finishing times this year? Probably not. Have I rediscovered my reason for training? Yes. Everyone I met up there thought it would be impossible to run the trail. They could never do it. A few years ago I would have thought the same. That is what keeps me going. I remind myself on a regular basis (with coach Grasky's help from time to time) that perceived limits are false, and to show other people that they can accomplish more than they can imagine. So far, there are no limits to athletic achievements. What does that mean for everything else?

So that is my answer I guess. I do ridiculous workouts and race as hard as possible to show that limits--those that you have for me; those that I have for myself--do not exist. What are you capable of?

I can't swim so I dog paddle...

Okay, so it's not quite that bad, but still.

I learned how to swim pretty young the same way most kids do who grow up on the River. The older kids threw me into deep water. Since then, I was in the water all the time. However, that doesn't mean that I learned how to swim any better. Feel for the water? Sure. Get from point A to B as quickly as possible? Not so much. An that's how it was for the first 23-ish years of my life.
























After graduating college, I was desperate for a job--combination of lots of competition (I knew I wanted to be a biologist. I didn't know everyone else did too!) and a crappy economy in 2002. So, I was happy to find a job anywhere in Arizona; even Ajo. In Ajo there is Reservation to the East, Air Force Property North and West, and more protected land south. BUT for four short months a year there is a public pool. So I lifeguarded in my spare time. First time ever swimming laps. Easy enough follow the stripe until you run into the wall, then turn around and do it again-and again... Kind of like a treadmill--work hard-make that painfully hard-and go nowhere.

Then, a year and a half ago I finally started swimming with a purpose. Get in shape for triathlons. At first my gains were awesome. After four months, I posted a pretty decent time in my first sprint. Then I swam some more and raced the same sprint six months later. I felt awesome in the water. Climbed out of the pool, and...8 seconds slower. Wait, what? Okay, I'll train more. Six months later, a hundred thousand yards or so in the water, and...exactly the same time. AGAIN?!!

So, I finally decided to get some help. I got a recommendation for a local swim coach, and signed up for three lessons. My early goal was to see what I could do to improve my time in the local sprint by next time (yes, I'm giving it another shot in March). My first lesson was tonight. Part of me was hoping that my form was bad; or at least not good. At least that would mean there was room for improvement. So, I was asked the expected list of questions: background, goals, etc. "Have you had lessons before?" Yes, I was five. I think the goal then was not to drown. Don't worry, I've got that covered.

Then there were the unexpected questions:

"How old are you? 30?" - Um, no, but thanks. I must look mature.
"So you're on TriCats? Are you the coach?" -Negative. Just old-looking apparently. In fact, I know I'm too old to be on a college team. What's your point?

So, we got past that, and I decided to overlook the unnecessary, possibly offensive questions and jumped in the pool. After a couple laps, the verdict was apparently clear-"March is not going to be a good month for you." Wait, what? He went on. "We are going to work on a major hitch in your stroke." The recommendation? Swim with the slowest people possible. Nothing anaerobic. In fact "what would be best is if you let your swim fitness go to hell for awhile. You will be slower for a while, but after you get the new technique down you might get faster. Unfortunately, you really have to develop your kick. And you need to totally re-develop your stroke which you can't do when you're dying during your set."

Wait, I "might" get faster? What am I here for again? Kick? Didn't I tell you I was a triathlete? Can you bill me after I cut at least a minute off of my sprint swim time?

So anyway this is where I'm at for now. I am apparently destined for some slow swimming followed by hopefully some gains in time for Vineman in July. In the meantime, you'll see me at the pool. I be the one at the shallow end trying to keep up with the freshman frat boys in boardshorts who are "going to get in shape in time for spring break".

I'll be swimming ridiculous kicking sets. Am I willing to work? You bet. Will I let my fitness go to hell? Um, no... My short-term goal: Get in shape for spring break...for Lake Havasu...but for the triathlon. Not so that I can strut my stuff on the beach.

So this is the new year...

So, I read somewhere (I think on a Slowtwitch forum? If someone has the quote please let me know!) that you can only really commit to two components of your life and do them well, with the normal triathlete having three to juggle--work, family, and triathlon. So, what happens when you add grad school into the mix? Well let's just say that it makes for a challenge.

My wife was a distance runner in high school, and decided to run a marathon our senior year of college (December 2001). I surprised her by signing up as well. We trained and raced together, and she was kind enough to drag my butt across the last few miles. Did I mention that was my first running race? Yeah, I'm kind of nuts like that. After that I was hooked on running. BUT I had the habit of overtraining and burning out. We both ran the Tucson Marathon again in 2004, and I actually trained pretty well that time. Did several local road races leading up to it, and the experience was a good one. After that, we got married and had our first daughter, and I was well on my way to becoming the typical overweight American. I needed a change, and triathlon was the next challenge. So without hesitation, I bought my first road bike and started triathlon training in July 2007 (at the young age of 26) with NO cycling experience, a little bit of swimming background (pool lifeguarding for one summer), and some recreational distance running. As a continuing grad student at the University of Arizona, TriCats was the perfect fit for me. Started training with the team, and did my first sprint tri, the Tinfoilman, and was hooked!

A condensed recap of 2008:

Spring, busted my tail to get my work done (with extensive fieldwork out of town). First duathlon (Desert Classic), first and second olympic distance (Havasu and Saguaroman). I had decent results considering that I spent January and February trying to get rid of hamstring tendonitis. During May, wrapped up my field work in preparation for our second daughter to be born (June 3).

June through August, I rode a LOT and spent as much time with the family as possible. Most rides were in the afternoon--in Tucson. Hey, that's when our older daugter (now two) naps, so that was my window. I did get dragged into more fieldwork on several occasions. The upsides to that were that (1) there are lots of running trails in the area, (2) there is a nice cove along the Colorado River for open water swimming (complete with a "no wake" buoy for sighting and turning practice all for a charge of $0), and (3) I brought my bike along on most trips. The cycling highlight of the summer was undoubtedly my two 115-degree plus four-hour rides in July, the first from Lake Havasu to Ehrenberg, the second from Ehrenberg to Havasu the next day. Insanity...I'll post a ride report about it later. No racing over the summer; family was first. My big goal was to increase my cycling fitness because that's where I figured I could make the biggest improvement.

Fall was spent cramming for my written and oral exams for my PhD "advancement to candidacy". I also ramped up my training for a few races (combine these to explain why I regularly trained for more hours per day than I slept), the Tinfoilman (again--a four-minute improvement!), the Nathan Tempe Triathlon, and, finally, the Soma Half! I had a great experience there despite my mangled hand from a cycling "incident" (that's another story...), and started to realize I might actually be able to compete in this crazy sport.

Now, back to this work-family-school-triathlon business. One of these things gets sacrificed to some extent on a daily basis; there is simply no way around it. Lately, school has been the easy one to cut out. I have had no "real classes" for the last two semesters. This fall I finally took (and passed!) my comprehensive exams. So what's left? Two classes, one independent study, and that little dissertation thing--the small project I was supposed to be working on while not taking any classes. Oops...

So, what's on tap this year? Something like last year, I guess. Commit to family, commit to school, throw myself into triathlon to see what I've got, and excel at my job; and then I hope I come out the other end in one piece. Specifics? Something like:

1. Absolutely destroy my time for the Havasu tri last year.
2. Hopefully (this will be another story...) compete at collegiate nationals in April. This is my last chance--my last year in college, and my last year with age eligibility.
3. Finish class in May, defend in June or July.
4. Get more involved in the triathlon community.
   
5. Cut 3 to 4 minutes off my Tucson Triathlon sprint distance.
6. REALLY crank it up for the Vineman 70.3 to see what I've got!

I am new to this sport, but already have tons of people to thank. Of course, my wife! She has been ridiculously supportive of my craziness and I could not do half of what I do without her support. TriCats has been awesome, especially the guidance and brutal training camps of Brian Grasky. I can't wait to see where it goes from here. My boss has also been understanding, although I doubt he fully comprehends how seriously I take my "hobbies". Thankfully he is an avid cyclist and father of two girls as well. My hours are not exactly traditional.

Some pictures from last year:

Spring 2008 TriCats Training Camp:

















The team getting posing before Havasu:












Kitt Peak time! Boy, that is a long 12 miles...































Ready for Nathan Tempe:

































Yeah, my wife rocks! So much support through all of my craziness over this sport: