Our Story So Far...

October 16, 2006

I am not a masochist. I don’t like pain. I’ve just adapted to a higher level of discomfort than most humans. This is what I do: multiple iron distance races, more specifically double the iron distance: 7.6km swim followed by 360km cycling followed by 84.4km running without sleeping. I’ve done 8 of these and attempted 10. I’ve finished under 24 hours 3 times with a best of 22 hours and 44 minutes. I’ve also finished a triple iron distance race 11.4 km swim, 540km bike and a 126.6km run/limp/stagger in 52 hours including a few 10 min cat naps. This almost killed me is probably a topic for another post or two or three. Oh, in between there have been some iron distances races (9 of them), a few marathons, and two Ultraman Canadas (a bit farther than a double but over 3 days).

While doing all of this I have managed to stay married, stay employed, raise 3 children, several cats and the occasional retired greyhound.

This is about as much ego as you are going to get from me.

I did my first double in 1993 in Huntsville, Alabama. There aren’t many from those days that are still in the sport. Many do one and are content. I’ve seen a number who throw themselves into the sport, do as many IUTA events on the circuit in the space of a year or two as possible, burn themselves to a crisp and disappear. A few others, like myself, pop in and subject themselves to an annual beating and return next year.

To get to the point of this blog, it will chronicle my journey to a deca iron distance race. Specifically it is the one in Vidauban, France in June 2008. The distances are: 38km Swim, 1800km Bike and a 422km run. Oh, it just gets better: the swim is in a 25m swimming pool. The bike course is 350 5.2 km laps in, according to the website, “the winegrowing area of Vidauban”. This does make it sound kind of attractive. However, the run of 533 laps of 0.788km quickly dispels any visions of idyllically sipping wine.

Hopefully, it will still be held in 2008. If not, I have some other options such as the 10 iron distances in 10 days in Mexico. This sounds a bit more manageable, I mean I can sleep between races. However, by day three I will, no doubt, be begging for the sweet embrace of death.

Don’t worry…I think both races are remarkably bad ideas. I’m not too crazy about this blog thing either but I promised my legion of fans (1) that I would have a crack at it. In any case, some find my meandering race reports mildly entertaining. My last two reports from Ultraman Canada can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/teamjft/RaceReports.html buried under a bunch of other race reports. I was also faced with the daunting prospect of updating my old web page, www.geocities.com/stimpy242, but thought that a fresh start can’t be such a bad thing. One thing will carry over from the old webpage: the black background. I’m either mourning Johnny Cash or despairing over the death of a free yet productive society. Take your pick.

Back to the event- why is this a bad idea- other than the distance? During the swim of the German triple, also held in a 25m pool, I was overcome by either or some combination of, motion sickness, German chlorine, jet lag, or bad bratwurst and became, what could only be described as a “human vending machine”. The others in my lane were less than impressed. How much fun do I think 38km of pool swimming is? Secondly, I’ve managed to sustain 2 stress fractures in my left ankle over the years just from the relentless pounding. A race week flare up with 400 plus kilometers to run is less than appealing.

So why the interest in an event that I don’t know I can finish or leave me a crippled piece of meat lying on the pavement or worse, flopping around like a barfing seal on the pool deck? Some recent history would help.

Over last summer, I found myself in the rare situation of having free time on my hands. It’s a long story that began three years ago with my children’s track coach resigning in mid-season (even a longer story) and faced with 40 children (including my own) without a coach. I reluctantly agreed knowing that (due to the small city politics of coaching track) it would, for lack of a better word. “suck”. Local coaching politics demanded a five to six night a week volunteer commitment 8 months out of the year and three evenings for the remaining four months. I’m surprised I lasted that long. However, the club merged with two other clubs, there was a surplus of distance coaches and, rather than have a disjointed distance program; I thought this would be a good time to bow out.

With this sudden influx of leisure time, not to mention far less stress, I found that, while training for Ultraman Canada, I could run 100 miles per week, on top of 300 or so kilometers of cycling and the occasional swim. I also found that during these runs, rather than fretting about arguing with the club treasurer about buying running shoes for inner city athletes, giving up and buying them myself or which parent hates me this week, or how to get two teenage girls who hate each other to run on the same relay team, I found myself with the luxury of thinking about…..nothing. Alone on the bike path, I would emerge from thinking about “nothing”, unsure where I was or how much time passed, and occasionally smiling at passing insects. In short, I fell in love with logging ridiculously long miles all over again. Finally, thanks to orthodics, I think my ankle has healed to the point where 422 kilometers is within the realm or possibility. It’s not a reasonable thing to do but either was coaching six nights a week.

I suppose, if I approached this in the conventional way, that this would be a training blog/log. However, in case it’s not clear, I’m not very conventional. This will be more of travelogue of the journey from now to the deca. A training log would put people to sleep. Above all, it will be entertaining, I promise. After all, you’ve probably determined that I have a keen sense of the absurdity of all this.

I hope during this process I can answer the burning question: What comes first, the tranquility or the training? During my thankfully brief sojourn into executive management, I found myself riding the indoor trainer at 4:30am (because I had a breakfast meeting, I’ve learned to loathe breakfast meetings) unable to concentrate on the task at hand (the ride) because my brain was too full of work “what-ifs”. I thought that if I had some freakin’ peace in my life, this ride would be going so much better. But then it hit me: the sweat, the noise, the music blaring in the head phones, and the elevated heart rate was about the only peace I was going to have that day and the workout took on a bizarre sense of tranquility. Or, on the other hand, does the tranquility come from being exhausted and lapsing into a stoned semi-comatose state at the end of the day? I have a little less than two years to sort this out.

I guess I should discuss some logistical issues. Regardless of how good you are ultra-distance triathlon in Canada hold about the same interest as Jaialai. As a result, I, for the most part, cover the costs. This means I have a job. Actually, I have two. First of all, I work in the gaming industry, crunching numbers. This makes perfect sense, because I have no interest in gaming (and surprisingly little knowledge). I was invited to a poker night once and showed up with my copy of “The Idiot’s Guide to Texas Hold’em”. Apparently, I had a significant negative impact on the pace of play due to my reading of select passages such as, “Bluffing….hey, there is whole chapter on bluffing!” and my inability to ante up without being told to every single hand. My other job is a consultant. I do economic impact studies from my home office. I have a Master’s degree in economics with specialization in input-output analysis. It is not as exciting as is sounds. However, I get an unnatural amount of enjoyment out of putting on, as my children would call it, “stoner music” (Old Pink Floyd and Bob Marley, mostly) and working through complex matrix algebra. This is where the absurdity comes in. I can’t afford to race internationally without working two jobs. However, training to race internationally while working two jobs is likely more insane than a deca. In any case, the sleep deprivation I will undergo will be ideal preparation for the event.

I should note that there is no way none of this will occur on my own. I will introduce the cast in a later edition.

Above all this will be the story on the process of getting there. The end result will be a brief footnote in comparison.

The few people in the ultra world that I discussed a deca with assured me that there is no way to train for this. It is just too mind-warpingly long. I said “thanks”. I imagine this will work out in my favor because I don’t have enough time to train long and, believe it or not, will swap intensity for distance like a madman. It seems to work for me. And I do have the workings of a training plan; it just does not look like any pre-packaged base-miles-followed-by-intensity plans usually nailed together. The “plan” is more like a vast, nebulous cobweb of logical functions in a borderless excel spreadsheet taking into consideration time, work, sleep, weather, family, health, level of fitness, time before next race, peer pressure, whimsy and the position of Saturn relative to Jupiter.

Perhaps this quote (one of my favorites) from the Australian miler, Herb Elliot, will put things in perspective. "I believe you must train intensely. There's been a tendency these days to be overawed by the scientific explanations of why long slow running or interval training is the answer. Both are probably physiologically and biologically defensible but what they neglect is the spiritual and mental side of a person. If you emphasize the physical side of training you may become superbly conditioned but mentally not advanced at all. On the other hand, if you concentrate on the mental aspect it is inevitable that the physical side will follow. My golden rule is to train for the mental toughness and don't train for the development. I used to have one day off a week but four of my other six runs would be excruciatingly intense and challenging. About half-way in each of the runs your body would be telling you to ease off, slow down or even stop and you've got to confront and grapple with that challenge."