familiar changes

while long, the rest of my travel from Abu Dhabi went fine. shortly after arriving to the airport in Delhi, i found myself in a small waiting area with an even smaller transfer desk, staffed with one person. the time was 3:30am. remember, i had booked a ticket to India with the intent of staying there for about a week, then flying to Kathmandu on a separate ticket booked with a regional airline. while i was able to change my ticket and flight date, i still arrived to the airport without a boarding pass for the flight and without a visa should i need to go through customs to get to the ticketing counter. so when i approached the sole worker and asked about my ticket, he simply said ‘Indigo? No.’ he motioned for me to have a seat, and having literally no other options, i joined the half dozen other weary travelers who looked about as tired and clueless as i must have.

side note: i’m always intrigued by other travelers, and find myself writing a narrative about them in my mind. the couple from Russia, the gal traveling back to Nepal from Colorado, the surly guy from the UK. i try to guess their career, the purpose of their travel, or the interests they have back home, and while i’ll never know 99.9% of their actual stories, it’s still a fun way to pass the time.

it must have been around 8:00am that someone from IndiGo arrived and started working on my ticket request. about an hour later, and with the help of a security worker who studied in Boston for the past three years, i got my boarding pass, got through security, and set out to find some breakfast. (turns out pancakes are just as good in India as they are back home.) and while the whole ticket process went fairly smoothly, i do have reservations about it going well on the way back home. i don’t know for sure of course, and there’s absolutely no way to tell with how things work over here, but something tells me going from a regional carrier to an international transfer without a visa in India isn’t going to be easy.

the flight at 11:00 went super fast, and before long i was rocking back and forth in the back of a small taxi fighting it’s way through the crowded streets of Kathmandu. it felt like i never left. i knew the turns before the car made them, recognized all the landmarks along the way, and felt the polluted, dust-filled air creep its way back into my lungs. later that afternoon, i was wondering the streets of Thamel, and again located all the shops i set out to find with ease. there is a comfort that comes with familiarity, even though it was more than two years since i was last here. a call home and a great chat with a good friend before bed, i closed my eyes around 8:00pm with the endless sounds of horns blaring, dogs barking, and workers building just outside my door.

while I wasn’t able to sleep through the night, i did make it for about five hours – guess a ten hour and 45 minute time change will do that to you. the good news is it was mid-afternoon back home, so i texted a friend to say hello and we chatted through most of my night. when the time came to say goodbye just after sunrise, i set out for a small run followed by an hour and a half yoga class downtown. both were just the thing i needed so shake off the dwindling wear and tear on my body from the previous two days of travel, and shortly after arriving back to the hotel, i caught a taxi and set out for the home.

like the drive from the airport, everything was familiar. everything except the road that is. it was horrible. large sections were broken up the entire way, with dirt and rock pretty much the whole way. there was a lot of new construction along the way which i’m sure was the culprit for the road’s condition, but despite the challenges, my driver got me to Budhanilkantha in record time. a walk north up the road on the right, a left turn at the fork in the road, a right through the pasture, over the creek, and around three new homes later, i found myself back at the home.

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although it looked the same, much has changed here, and while I’ll likely discuss the details in later posts, i’m glad to say nearly all the changes have been for the better. two greenhouse type structures for their huge garden, solar power on the roof, added security on the house itself, and constant hot water; all creature comforts we sometimes take for granted back home, yet things they lived without for so long.

i was greeted at the door by a few new children, all smiling of course. they are current on a holiday from school, and won’t be returning until this coming THU, so it was nice to have a chance to see them all right away. i dropped my bags, kicked off my shoes, and upon entering the house saw the familiar faces of BJ, Manoj, and Nabin. BJ busted out a heart melting smile, Manoj immediately grabbed at my beard (some things never change – last time i was here his hands were constantly in my face), and shy Nabin briefly smiled before hiding his face in the curtains. i introduced myself to the other children and had a short conversation with BJ. i was amazed at how open and relaxed he was. just two years ago, he rarely smiled or chatted with anyone. now, he seemed just like a regular 12 year old.

there were a group of children down the hill where everyone hangs out and plays soccer, so i walked down to say hello, two young boys leading the way and one holding my hand as we went. Shiva was there, along with three neighbor boys i recognized from last time. Anjil was also there, right arm in a full cast. he said he fell playing soccer and broke it last week which surprised me very little seeing their field is full of holes, rocks, and roots. and while the boys carried on chatting and doing their adolescent thing, i was able to ask Anjil about a few faces that were missing. Tul, Santa, Ashok, and much to my dismay – Bikash.

i learned Tul and Santa had both moved to live with relatives, that Ashok was living in town (who i later learned from Rabindra had graduated school and was now attending university in Kathmandu), and simply that Bikash was not here. the boys had no more information to share. worry set in immediately, and for only the second time in my life, i felt what i can only imagine a parent feels about their own child when fearing the worst. had something happened to him? was he still ok? where was he living if not here?

having called him when i arrived, one of the new caretakers informed me Rabindra would be to the house shortly, and no more than ten minutes later, i was shaking hands with him. he hadn’t changed a bit, although his Boston Red Socks had was now replaced with a simple black Nike one. his English, though improved a little, was still broken, but he told me to grab my things and that he would take me to where i would be staying.

along the ten minute walk, we were able to discuss our lives and the changes that had happened since i was last here. he informed me he had moved from his town to the house we were walking to, that an armed robbery to the home not long after i left in 2011 forced him to move closer and add security to the house. two volunteers were targeted, and most of their possessions taken. shocked, i asked if that type of crime was common here. ‘no’, her replied. ‘first time ten year.’ and for the second time in less than a half hour, my heart ached. i asked about the boys no longer at the home, and was happy to hear Tul and Santa were indeed placed with relatives to live with, and that Bikash was well, living with his Grandfather in Kathmandu. I asked Rabindra if he knew the location or the address, and was thrilled to hear he did and could share it with me. i’ll likely stop by to visit when i head beck into the town this next WED to meet up with a few friends.

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at the end of the walk, Rabindra lead me up a small path to a very pleasant home he later explained was a rental for Goma, the volunteers, and himself to live in. since the robbery, he explained, they housed the volunteers in a separate building out of concern for the safety of the children which makes perfect sense – most have things of value like ipod, computers, etc. we entered the house which was simple but clean, he showed me to my room, and shortly after Goma arrived home from her job down the road in a tailer shop. she set out straight away preparing a simple dinner of rice, potato, and lentil soup, and along with a new volunteer from Azerbaijan, the four of us shared a simple conversation while eating our dinner over candlelight. nothing romantic intended of course – the power was simply out until who knows when. oh to be back in Nepal.

tired, i slipped away to bed around 8 o’clock and slept through most of the night. currently, it’s 4:24am, a good hour or so before the sun will rise and i’ll be able to head out on a run. since i’m in need of supplies and the children will be at some to do most of the morning (one which for whatever reason i can’t attend), i’ll likely head down into town, check some emails, and post this. i’m planning to spend the next few days trying to figure out what type of aid or supplies they might need, and also plan to visit the clinic to see if they might need some help there as well. i’ll check back in once i get a bit more settled with some more updates then.

so it begins.

i let out a brief sigh of relief when i booked my plane ticket a few weeks ago. ‘finally’, i thought to myself. ‘ain’t nothin’ left to leaving but the gettin’ on.’

famous. last. words.

to say the last two weeks were stressful would probably be the understatement of the century. it started off with an email from BLS International, the company the Indian Embassy outsources their visa requests to. yes, you read that correctly, and no, that’s not a joke. even i couldn’t write something that ironic. the email stated i had completed the incorrect visa application form, and that they would be returning my entire application packet via the mail. this was on the 11th, nine days after i had mailed it to them in Chicago. knowing i was leaving on the 29th, i immediately called them, and after explaining my reason for the call, the conversation went something like this:

me: so, since I’m concerned i may not get my visa back in time if i have to resend everything by mail, is there any way you can keep my documents and i can either fax or email you the correct application form?
BLS worker: no sir. we can’t do that.
me: and why is that?
BLS: that’s not our policy.
me: is there any way you can make an exception?
BLS: no sir. that’s not our policy.
me: i understand. is there any way to expedite my application when i send everything back to you? again, i’m concerned my passport and visa won’t be returned to me in time for my travels on the 29th.
BLS: no sir, we can’t do that.
me: really? why’s that? oh wait, let me guess: that’s not your policy.
BLS: that’s not our policy.

*nailed it*

so realizing a visa into India wasn’t going to happen, i called Indigo Airlines in India, the budget airline i used to booked a flight from Delhi to Kathmandu. while i was hoping to spend a few days in Dehli, no visa means no India. luckily, much to my surprise, changing my flight to Kathmandu was easy. paying for the changes, on the other hand, wasn’t. six skype calls to Indigo, four calls to my credit card, and about an hour and a half online trying to pay for my flight change fees all over a four day period, i’ve resorted to ordering rupee from my bank and paying for the changes in person at the airport in Delhi upon my arrival. i’m told i can do this, but i’m taking a huge leap of faith on this one – i’m just out of all other options. add all that to a really good but long five day sale at the shop working bell to bell, and i was running ragged.

so arriving to the airport in MKE this morning, (or…was it yesterday morning? wait. what the hell day is it??) i was a bit nervous. and by a bit, i mean i was really thinking they wouldn’t let me fly without a visa. but a great conversation with my dad on the drive down helped a bit to calm me down, and before i knew it (after ten agonizing minutes mind you), the ticking agent said the six magic words i was hoping to hear: “your booked all the way through.” and despite a hiccup in Chicago with my original boarding passes, my pal Joe, a flight attendant who just happened to be landing from his Germany flight at the same time i was at O’hare, was able to help get things sorted. after a nice chat over dinner with him and a few last minute calls to say some quick goodbyes, i was off.

currently, i’m in Abu Dhabi, having just got off the overnight long haul flight from Chicago. i was able to sleep most the way over, and scored some great food from a super nice attendant who snuck me some fruit and food from the crew stash / business class menus. super awesome. lesson there? never underestimate the power of a simple hello. in about an hour, i’m off to Delhi and ultimately KTM by tomorrow. i’m excited to get back out the the orphanage; to see how much things have changed, how the boys have grown. but i’m also looking forward to the familiar things – the smells, sipping tea on the front step in the morning, hearing the children’s laughter. i have no expectations, rather an open mind and a hope to make a few people smile.

a family trip to watercolor, fl

despite the fact i’m sitting in the Pensacola Airport waiting to board my plane home while sipping a mediocre cup of green tea, i can’t help but feel content. after all, i’d be lying if i said i was totally thrilled about the prospects of a week long family holiday – all fourteen of us, in one house, in FLORIDA. glad to be going? sure. thrilled? no so much. but i’m happy to say it want well. really well, actually. and don’t get me wrong – i really enjoy my family, and they continue to provide me with so much kindness and support. it’s just that i enjoy them in small doses, and preferably not all of ’em at once. still, the time with them was great. perhaps i’m learning to overlook the small idiosyncrasies that have bothered me in the past, or maybe it’s that i’ve found a bit more patience and acceptance with all the living i’ve done in the past few years.

while i didn’t shoot many pictures here this week simply because i hate always feeling like i’m missing the moment stuck behind my camera, i did make a few and posted them over on my photo blog if you’d like to have a look. i also didn’t check my phone much this past week. instead, i wanted to be here taking it all in without my mind lost wandering in twitterverse or the ever worsening land of Facebook. so if i didn’t return your text or email for a bit longer than usual, that’s why. and as a side note: if you haven’t unplugged lately, i encourage you to try it. even if only for a day, you might find it pleasantly satisfying.

Ironman Wisconsin race report

sunday started like every other race morning has for me this season.  sort of.  up really early, making pancakes while still half asleep.  although this time, it was 3:45am and i was cooking them on a hot plate in a hotel.  still, they tasted amazing like they always do, and after double checking my morning race bag a few too many times, my pal Steve and I were off.  our hotel was about a ten minute walk from the race venue which made for a nice way to get the legs moving prior to the race.  we got to the capital square, dropped off our special needs bags for the bike and run (bags we would have access to halfway through each leg of the race), set up our bikes, wished each other the best, and went our separate ways to finish our preparations for the day.  having given ourselves plenty of time, i found myself sitting in a rather quiet part of the terrace around 5:55am, a good hour before race start and 20 or so minutes before i was to meet up with dad and Stoob.  and as i sat there watching all the other athletes dashing around with anxious faces, i realized i was completely calm.  no nerves, no apprehension.  after all, i had done this race the previous two years, so it was nothing new.  i rode the course twice in the past month, so that was familiar as well.  my family and friends were going to be out on the course all day long, so it wasn’t like i was out there all alone, and i had gotten the exact words of encouragement i needed to hear the day before from an unexpected visitor at the hotel.   so really, what was there to be nervous about?

the swim:
the forecast the few days leading up to the race looked promising, yet questionable for race day. temps were to remain in the 70’s all day, but they were calling for strong winds. as it turned out, the forecasters nailed it – overcast skies, 70° temperatures all day, and fairly strong winds around 15mph. while these conditions were music to my ears, it did make for a difficult swim and a few tough sections on the bike. but i can tell you this: it sure as hell beat sunny and hot.

after a brief chat with my parents, i made my way down to the start where i ran into my teammate David just before i hit the water. we shared a few words, wished each other luck, and were in the water by 6:45. i was able to get in a few 30-45 second hard repeats to warm myself up, and with about three minutes to spare, found my way to a decent spot near the front of the pack. i didn’t plan to go out hard, but i’ve learned not many people towards the front do. and with a steady pace, a decent swimmer can get out of the frenzy a lot faster starting up front than waiting back a few seconds.

what seemed like a minute after i found my position we were off, and for the first three or so minutes, i swam with my head out of the water, constantly sighting for a clean line. and it paid off wonderfully. i didn’t have much contact with other swimmers, didn’t get kicked or hit or swum over, and less than five minutes into the race, i found myself in semi-smooth water with very few swimmers around me. from that point on, i found my comfortable pace (1:40/100 pace), sighted every ten strokes, and set in for the next hour of swimming. and despite some fairly tough chop and waves to contend with, i didn’t find the swim that bad. sure there was a bit of fighting for position around the turn buoys or a random swimmer that would run right into the side of you out of nowhere, and the backstretch seemed to go on f-o-r-e-v-e-r. but for the most part, i never pushed the pace, i managed to swallow only a few mouthfuls of lake water when being thrown around in the waves, and after and hour and seven minutes, my feet found the shore and i was off for T1 feeling great.

T1:
the spectator support at this race is unparalleled, and coming out of the water to thousands of screaming people is insane. i quickly spotted my pal Dani who was cheering like crazy, and caught a quick glance of my family before making my way into the transition area to prepare for the bike. about eight minutes or so later, i was off on the bike.

the bike:
it takes about five or so minutes for your head to stop spinning after swimming for over an hour, running through transition, and hopping on the bike, but i quickly settled in, found my watts, and set my focus on the task at hand. i noticed my stomach was a bit wonky and figured it was from taking in some water during the swim, but it didn’t stop me from eating my nutrition every 15 minutes, and within an hour, it seemed to have passed. the first 16 miles out to the loop flew by, and i felt like i was flying despite riding a bit under wattage. ‘good’ i thought to myself. ‘keep it light on the pedals.’

the first loop went as planned. i nailed my target watts and nutrition, and saw a ton of friends and family along the way. a perfectly timed boost at the start of the second loop from a familiar face had me feeling great through verona, and although my wattage seemed to fall just a bit through the second loop, i still was able to keep to my nutrition until about mile 85 or so. it was then i started to feel a bit sluggish, and the GI upset i felt at the start of the bike returned. i knew it wasn’t the result of pushing the bike too hard, but around mile 100, i decided to ease back and ride easy into town in hopes i’d recover a little by the start of the run.

just before reaching T2, i flipped to screen 2 on my Garmin to see a ride time of just over six hours with an average speed of 18.3mph. it was the first time i had looked at my ride time all day, and i was pleasantly surprised as i hopped off my bike and ran for T2.

T2:
i was in to T2 and changed for the run within about three minutes, but not feeling much better than i had at mile 100 on the bike, i decided to stay sitting down for a few extra minutes. a volunteer, noticing i wasn’t getting up, asked if i was ok. “sure,” i said. “just taking a breather.” he replied, “GD right!” i smiled. “you go right ahead! take all the time you need,” he said as he returned a smile. and with that, i got myself up and headed out the door to run a marathon.

the run:
that first mile was probably the best, yet hardest of the day. best due to the fact i saw my family, my old probation pals, my buddy Joe, and had amazing support from tons of people around the capital and down state street. worst, because i knew i was in trouble. i fought the urge to puke from about three steps into the run and with 26.19 miles to go, i knew it was going to be a long ass day. still, i dwelled on the positive. i told myself i had a great swim. that i had just biked 112 miles, and finished it nearly 20 minutes faster than i had hoped to, all while keeping my power nearly 30 watts under my goal. and i focused on three thoughts, and three thoughts only:

1. get to the next aid station, eat and drink, and repeat.

2. ‘sometimes you just do things.’

(this i got from Scott Jurek’s book Eat and Run. for some reason it just makes sense to me, and it answers the question of ‘why the hell do i do these races’ perfectly when your mind keeps asking you that same question over and over and over.)

3. ‘your legs are not giving out. your head is giving up. keep moving.’

(pre-race, i grabbed a sharpie and wrote this on my left arm. it’s something i borrowed from a friend’s FB page without her knowing, but i’m sure she won’t mind. and after each aid station, i reread it, refocused, and continued running.)

but it wasn’t easy. by mile three, i couldn’t fight back the nausea and had to empty my stomach. immediately, i grabbed my nutrition, took a sip, washed it down with water, and keep running. and so it went, following the same routine for the next 23 miles: run for about three miles, eat and drink, puke, repeat. by mile 16, i was so pissed off i had to keep stopping to puke that i said fuck it and just keep running as i did so. (my sincere apologies to any spectators who had to witness this.) and while i wasn’t able to maintain the 9:00/mi pace i had hoped to throughout, i only needed to back it off a minute or two during the second loop. and through it all, i keep running. i drew support from my family, my friends, my co-worker Rachel and her dad, Erika and her sister, and the 100’s of beard supporters along the way. i found strength from the past three years, thinking of my parents and their medical woes, the kids in Nepal, Elly, and all the other stuff that was loads harder to deal with than running a race.

the thing was, my legs never got tired. it was a mental battle the entire way. we’ve all been sick, and the only thing you want to do is lay down and not move. throwing up is by far my least favorite feeling in the world, and to know that i’d have to keep doing something for 2, 3, 4 hours longer that would inevitably make me continue to do so was a tough battle to fight. but i was able to quiet my mind, focus on the three things i mentioned earlier, and make my way through. five miles became ten, ten became 20. and with 5k to go, i knew i had made it. just before hitting the capital square, i rounded the corner to see my buddy Joe jumping up and down, screaming like crazy. he met me in the middle of the street, gave me a huge hug, and told me how happy he was for me. it was then i think it all hit me. how much work i’ve put into my training this past year, the medical stuff i had to overcome with my metabolism, the 180° switch i made with my diet, and all the things i’ve had to forgo to make this day happen. from there on, the last mile was pure enjoyment. i gave high fives and rockstar horns to everyone that called out, and rounding the corner down MLK, i ran down the shoot to finish what i had started nearly three years ago.

i’m often asked why i kept signing back up for the race these past two years after it didn’t go so well the first two times. sure, i could have called it quits, decided the iron distance wasn’t for me, or that my body wasn’t able to handle it. god knows that would have been the easier thing to do. and not finishing wasn’t without heartache or embarrassment. but the choice was never a hard one for me to make. i started something, and i wanted to finish it. after all, why do anything in life if you don’t see it through, right? and in the end, this journey has continued to help me grow into the best possible version of me i can be: a healthy, mentally strong, confident, and happy person who knows how valuable life is, how far we can push ourselves, and how we have the choice to make life amazing.

what gets me through

while her surgeries and chemo treatments are now behind her, i often find myself back in front of my laptop viewing a series of pictures i made on two separate evenings back in February, 2012.   i’m not sure what keeps drawing me back, really.  perhaps they remind me how amazing my family is when i foolishly get annoyed with them for petty things, or how incredibly strong Stoob is.  maybe when things aren’t fantastic or i need to find that extra strength to push me through, these images provide that little push to get things back on track.  or it could simply be that they help me remember it’s ok to sometimes smile when life throws you a total shit situation.   and while i don’t think i’ll ever know exactly why they always seem to help, they never fail at bringing me comfort.

until this past week, i’ve never thought about sharing them.  it’s not that i made a conscious decision not to;  i just never did.  but a few days ago, someone asked me what pushes me to live the life i do – in her words:  training so goddamn hard, traveling to far away places to help others, constantly striving to better myself in any way possible – and like you do, i gave a fairly generic answer about wanting to be healthy and live a happy, fulfilling life.  she agreed, but said this:

“there has to be more to it than that.  we all want to be healthy and do our part to make the world better, but we don’t train 20 hours a week or hop on a plane and fly to the other side of the world to do it.  so give me a real answer, and cut out the bullshit.”

i thought about her response for a few seconds, but all i could do was return a silent glance back in her direction.  the thing is, i couldn’t find the words to answer her.  i still haven’t.  while being healthy and following the desire to help others does push my life in it’s current direction, she was right.  there is more.  and while this will likely make no sense to anyone but me, i think the following pictures are that ‘more’ she was getting at.  to me, they say that life is wonderful and fragile at the same time.  that we can find beauty in terrible times and survive those moments to become stronger, wiser, and more aware.  that we need to cherish what’s really important, telling those loved ones how much they mean in our lives every chance we can.  and that as human beings, we are capable of some pretty amazing things.

like the pictures of my mom and Elly on my bike handlebars do in all my training rides and races, these will be playing through my mind next weekend at Ironman Madison, or this fall when i find myself utterly disheartened when faced with poverty and sorrow overseas.  and like they always have done, i’m sure they’ll help me find a way through the tough stuff.

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Woodson YMCA Triathlon Race Report

prior to this race, my coach gave me one race goal: RACE HARD!  and that’s exactly what I did.

since the event was right across town, i was able to sleep in until 5:00am race morning. after a breakfast of homemade pancakes, i drove to Sunnyvale Park, found my primo spot in the transition area, and for the next hour or so chatted with my fellow teammates.  after a short warm-up run and final check of my gear, i made my way to the water for the swim start.  it was a bit cool at about 54°, but the sun was out and i knew it wouldn’t be too cold after a few minutes on the bike.

THE SWIM:  the swim for this race was only 400 yards, so my plan was to sprint it the entire way.  and despite swimming a tad bit off course thanks to the world’s smallest bouys, i was out of the water in 5:45 and running to my bike.  i had to swim through a lot of traffic as there was no elite starting wave, but that’s just the way this race is setup.  not a huge deal – you make the best of it – but it did slow me down some.  i was originally hoping for around 5:20 or so.

T1:  56 seconds flat, 2nd best of the day.

THE BIKE:  the bike course for this race is hilly.  and by hilly, i don’t mean a few rollers.  there’s rarely a flat section throughout, and a few of the climbs are small gear grinders.  my goal was to push as close to 240 watts as possible, and while i knew this would be hard to maintain for the entire 17 miles, i was going to give it an honest go.  at 3 miles in, i was averaging around 255.  by mile 8, i was still around 252, and nearing mile 13, i had held it to 250 even.  HOLY SHIT!!!  ten watts above your threshold level might not sound like much, but holding it for nearly 45 minutes is a leg killer.  sure my legs were screaming for me to let up, and my heart was ready to jump out of my chest nearing the tops of the climbs, but something told me i had it in me to keep on the gas, to keep pressing as hard as i could.

riding into the transition area, i took one last glance at my computer:  248 watts (3.78 watts/kg).  i was pumped, but a bit nervous for the run.  5k’s are hard enough.  running one on legs that are annihilated from a crazy bike split just plain hurts.

T2:  1:20 due to the fact i decided to put on socks.  i’ve never not gotten blisters while running without them, and with Ironman Wisconsin less than four weeks out, i didn’t want to open that can of worms.  the next few weeks are going to be the longest training weeks yet, and doing so on blistered feet wasn’t something i wanted to do.

THE RUN:  as i headed out of transition, i caught a glance at my teammate Dani about 100 yards behind me.  ‘perfect’ i thought to myself.  ‘if i can just pace with her for a bit, i should have a real chance at breaking 18:00.’  NOPE.  it took her a few minutes to catch up, but when she did, i could see she was in full on beast mode.  a few steps side by side, a quick ‘nice job’, and she was gone.  she’s a super strong runner, so i wasn’t all that surprised.  my legs were just too tired from both the bike and the half-ironman the weekend before.  i did everything i could to maintain a sub-6 minute per mile pace, and just barely held on to the end.  finish time was 18:27 (5:57min/mi pace) for the run, 1:11:28 total race time.  it was good for a second place overall, first in my age group finish.  my teammate Mike finished just ahead of me at 1:09:10, and with nearly 25 other teammates racing that day, it was awesome to have so many familiar faces along the course.

while i now have a break from racing until Madison, i have a ton of work ahead of me.  three hour runs, four to six hour bike rides, and nearly 14,000 meter weeks in the pool are going to be my norm until about 1.5 weeks out.  it’s a lot, but it’s manageable.  better yet, it’s a lot of fun.  well, most days are anyways…