My Blog

The 2005 Accenture Triathlon this Sunday went well,much better than last year's bike debacle - but stillfelt the effects of being out of town for all of July.

All said and done, it was good benchmark for my firstrace of the year. My time from last season was bestedby about 20 minutes. I was carrying between 8-10% morebody weight than I  would have liked to, but maybethis is around where my strength-weight ratio lines upcorrectly on the power curve. Only a $700 power tapcould tell me for sure.

The swim definitely felt much stronger that anyprevious, even considering the rough-and-tumble field.Each year it seems that the middle swimmers want tokick and claw their way into a few seconds increase.Since the swim time is miniscule in comparison to thebike and run, I let a few by. I passed quite a few,but I let a few go by.

At Transition 1 the wetsuit came off much easier thanit had previously. I slid into my cycling shoeswithout incident and hit the course. 

The weather couldn't have been more perfect to run arace - at least by my specifications. 82 degrees,sunny, with a neutral wind. The northbound ride had aminor tailwind, less than 2mph. I rode small gear,small-ish cog the way up. Avergaing in the mid-20s,(23-24mph) the whole way. There was a first for me,which was that they stopped us on the bike coursebriefly  because an ambulance was carting away acyclist on a stretcher. For a moment I didn't knowwhat to do, but the paramedic flagging everyone downyelling "stop" gave me a good idea.

Different to this year was the fact that there was nowater bottle exchange (empty for full) at theturn-around. That meant that my 750 mL bottle wouldhave to do. It did just barely, almost to the lastdrop. 

By the time I got off my bike I had averaged 20.3 mphover 25.41miles/41 km (the course is not 40km asadvertised)

T2 was no sweat. I had an energy gel (had two on thebike, earlier) and put on my running shoes. Again, Ialmost left my helmet on, but remembered to remove itat the last minute.

The run course is always quizzocal for me, because Inever think I have the juice in reserve to turn it up,but I always feel like I do at the end. It's amazinghaving spectators so close, cheering and high-fiving.I did not knock over a water-girl like I did last year(her fault), and passed a good portion of the field.The last 200 meters I really turned on the gas - youhave to - and sprinted across the line. As always, Icould have pushed the run faster; hoping for sub8:00min/mile next time.

Next year I'm shooting for a 32 minute swim, 1:09 bike(22mph) and 51:09 run course (8:15 min/mile); count intotal transition times of 7 minutes, total time =150.3 minutes = 2hrs 30minutes 18seconds. I think. 

364 days to go.

Looking forward to getting some light training intothis week's recovery. And need to get some long runsin before the Chicago 1/2 Marathon in September.

Here are the specifics from Sunday ....

2005 Accenture TriathlonSwim: 00:35:07T1: 00:04:17Total Bike: 01:14:51 (avg. 20.3 mph)    T2: 00:03:11Run: 00:54:47 (8:48/mile)       

Total Time: 02:52:13

--end--

Brian and Kristen are now happily married, 24+ hours into their life together. The wedding was really terrific, and it was great to see so many college friends in the same room. It’s nice how things like this bring people back together. There were so many highlights, the least of which was seeing JP and Rachel on the dance floor. That alone was worth the price of admission, for sure.

Zach is very close to being a father, and the rest of the crew is very close to being married. I’m running out of he/she’s next … but I’ve never been one to feel that pressured.

I’m finally back into a full-time work schedule, between my producing and writing duties. Things are shaping up well, with September lining up; with the rest of the Fall sure to follow suit.

Looking forward to feeling a little back to normal - although this has been a very special summer.

My new favorite phrase is: C’est un bordel, which translates to "This is a mess." Literally, however, it means "This is a whore house (brothel)." Please use freely, that is what it’s meant for.

C’est tout pour maintenant. Mes excuses pour l’interruption.

First of all, I apologize for Friendster sending you an note everytime I update this thing. If anyone knows how to shut it off, please let me know.

Europe was incredible, there aren’t adjectives to describe what a wonderful experience it was to be there. I have pages of travel journals that I’ll be putting up here when I get a chance. By far the best place I visited was Rhodes, in the Agean sea. On my Grandfather’s side of the family, this is where almost everyone lives - or at least visits during the summer. It’s the most awe-inspiring (running out of adjectives, eh) place I have ever been.

If you are a beautiful, intelligent, sassy woman, I will take you there anytime you want to go.

Here are my thoughts on Rhodes…

- Imagine the most beautiful place in the world. Then surround it by crystal clear water, gorgeous beaches, and amazing medieval architecture. Oh, and there’s an ancient city (Lindos) that is several thousand years old.

- Now the people who live on this place - not the tourists - are the sexiest people in the world. Seriously. If you think you are tall, skinny and attractive, there are a thousand men/women here who will trump you in a heartbeat. They are probably funnier and more sensitive and compassionate than us as well. Think you have game? Unless you speak fluent Greek, own the biggest boat in the harbor and have a cartoonishly large penis, you have no chance. Focus on the American tourist girls, the one’s you could never get at home - it’s easier to confuse them with a fake Greek accent and a romantic “grasp” of the English language.

- What do these people eat and drink? Oh, they eat the best tasting food ever, including meats, fish and all manner of fried foods. But no one is fat or anything short of a knock-out. And ice cream. It’s almost as if ice cream is going out of style in Greece there’s so much of it everywhere. Note: Europe as a whole is made of ice cream.

- More about the food. Each day I eat more food than the one before. Pita gyros, pasta, souvlakis, cake, fried meatballs (like falafel), olives, fruit, cheese. Ironically, for an island, toughest item to order is water. Why don’t people dig water here. You ask for a “Cola Light” and three waiters in tuxedos will bring it to your table. Ask for water and they stare at you like a monkey. The upside is that it’s 75% less for bottled water than in Holland. Fuck the Dutch. There, I said it.

- Think your family is hospitable, get ready to be rocked. I have met people today that I’ve never met before - some are cousins, some are cousins by marriage, and some are neither. I could ask for a kidney from any of them, and get it. And if you ask for lunch or something to eat, you will get no less than a three course meal. We are visiting many Great Aunts/Uncles and Grandparents of my cousins. Immediately, food is put out for us. I never know when it’s coming and quickly run out of ways to say “no thank you, I’m full.”

- The language. I do feel like a fool because everyone has to speak English for me to understand completely. The other options I have to choose from are pretty staggering - I am embarrassed because I can’t pull a fluency from any of the following: Greek, French, Flemish, Italian, German. Spanish gets me by with the Italians, but I still feel kind of silly. The way they can interchange languages - the kids - to make the older folks comfortable talking in their first language is astounding. Mind-fucking-blowing.

- Because of the language barrier, it is sometimes difficult to figure out when things start and end. And since I have full-time company in the form of a cousin aged 18-23, they administrate the day’s program. There may be talk of Renzo (who is a Great Uncle by marriage [?] about 70 and awesome) picking us up. Then sure enough, we’ll be walking down the street and Renzo will pull up and say “andiamo”! Renzo speaks Italian so we exchange brief words every once in a while. We both enjoy watching the Tour de France on the French station at his home.

- My cousin Lolly owns a bar, a very nice, popular one. You can even smoke hookahs with flavored tobacco. All of the servers are model-esque, as are the patrons (except for me). I asked for a traditional Greek drink and the bartender fucked me and gave me a mojito. Love it. Even the cousin of the owner gets fucked if he’s not a pretty girl.