Another lost week

Codeine was good for sleep Monday night. Vomit immediately upon awakening Tuesday wasn't so awesome. So I discontinued the cough syrup.

The week just slipped by me. Wednesday and Thursday were a coughing, sleeping, body-aching blur. Saw another doctor on Friday morning. New drugs. Feeling a little better by Friday evening. Today I woke up just before 900a after almost 11 hours of sleep, made and ate breakfast, and cleaned the kitchen. That little episode left me a bit tired so I headed back upstairs. Watched an old episode of Arrested Development on Hulu and the next thing I knew, I was waking up again...at 145p. If this is what feeling better is all about, it's gonna be another long week.

My head is feeling okay but I'm tired all the time, have a funny tummy from all the drugs, and have dropped 5 pounds in the last 10 days. Since I didn't have much body fat to begin with, I'm thinking it's probably partly fluids and partly muscle atrophy. Only two workouts in the last 2.5 weeks: the Alcatraz race and the Taos bike ride. I don't even know where to start when I finally feel like getting back out there.

Maybe an easy hour ride tomorrow just to see what I'm dealing with--will just have to see how the morning goes. So who knows what this thing is--could be bronchitis, swine flu, some other crazy virus, walking pneumonia, or a whole host of other things the doctor mentioned that I can't remember at this point. Anyhow, trust me, you don't want it.

The 3 Greatest Inventions of All Time: Sliced Bread, Elastic-band Underpants, Codeine

Last night was rough. Not just a little. I couldn't even lean back, let alone lie down, without going into painful fits of coughing. Have you ever tried to sleep while sitting up and leaning forward? After about 5 hours if trying, I finally must have just passed out shortly after 3:00am. I managed a few hours of sleep and when I woke up, I was still exhausted. Teegan had already made me an appointment with my doctor so I headed straight over.

He prescribed some good stuff and, with the help of some industrial-strength cough syrup, I managed a solid 4-hour nap this afternoon--I was actually able to lie down. I'm feeling better this afternoon, though I'm a bit hung-over from the drugs. The coughing is now somewhat under control although it does appear that I'm frightening the children.

Looking forward to better days.

Convalescing for Sight

This has not been an easy few days. I came up to Taos as planned on Friday and was still feeling bad Saturday morning but wanted to try to put a few miles in just to see if that might help loosen things up and push them through. A century was on tap but I just planned to ride up to a few hours and not push at all.

We woke up to a cool, steady rain. Century cancelled. A small group of us rolled out later in the morning during a short break in the weather for about 50 miles, which included a trip to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge. I was feeling okay on the bike for the first few minutes but that was about it. The Gorge was surprisingly beautiful but I cut off shortly after seeing it and came back to the hotel having logged 32 coughing, spitting, uncomfortable miles. That was my Cycle for Sight this year.

Today, the other riders will cover the 75 miles to Storrie Lake while I ride in a SAG vehicle. I coughed myself awake at about 2:30 this morning and never really got back to sleep. So, I think it would be fair to say that this trip was something less than I had hoped for. I understand that there's nothing I can do about it so I'm not really upset, just disappointed. But I'll be back next year.

Day 1--Zero miles

After a tough night of sleep, I woke up with a debilitating pounding in my head and a seriously aching body. No bike riding for me for sure. It took me about 3o minutes to get off the couch, zip up my bags, and drag ass to the backseat of my truck where I planned to spend the better part of the day as a SAGer. First stop was another friend's house in the neighborhood to gather the rest of the caravan to the ride start. That's as far as I made it. The guys grabbed my bags as I unloaded myself and staggered directly to their guest room. I've pretty much been sleeping all day and, while I do feel better, there's no way I could even balance on a bicycle right now, let alone actually ride up and down hills.

So the new plan is to drive up to Taos (with the family I'm staying with) tomorrow afternoon with hopes of joining the ride for day 3 (Saturday). The trajectory of this virus or whatever it is has been unpredictable so I have no idea whether or not that's a realistic plan. Apparently, several of my SF friends who were at the Alcatraz race are experiencing the same thing. Not good times.

New Mexico is a delightful place to have an upper respiratory infection...

It came on very quickly, but I'm definitely sick--not getting sick. Sick. I'll be making day-to-day decisions about riding. Complete bummer but better here than San Fran last weekend. Stay tuned...

Looong-Form Alcatraz Race Report

This race seems similar in scale to Ironman. Huge fitness festival, supreme organization, 2,000 racers, lots of folks in from out of town. Packet pickup and the pre-race meeting were a breeze. Race morning started with at 430a wakeup and instant oatmeal in the hotel bathroom while Teegan slept. Smooth ride over to the race, quick TA setup, and then off to the ferry with some friends (great story on Matt here)—nice to be able to skip the shuttle buses. Body marking, successful trip to the porta-potty, and onto the ferry—all very smooth. Everything ran on time to the second—the boat pulled away from the dock at exactly 700a—1 hour to race start. I relaxed, chatted with some new friends, kept hydrated (plus another successful bathroom trip), checked out sighting for the swim and spent a little time checking out Alcatraz—cool to be up close again. Suited up at about 745a—no nerves—feeling ready. At 750a, there was a short prayer and then the national anthem. At exactly 800a, the pros started. They got a 15 second head start and then it was an absolute fire drill getting off the boat. There were timing mats at the door so you walked out, looked for a clear spot in the water and jumped off—about 8 feet down to the water.

Even though I had a hand on my goggles, I picked up a little water when I entered. Then as I came up, I felt someone slide down my back, but no damage done. Swam a few strokes to get clear and ended up with someone else’s goggles in my hand (they had apparently been floating—why don’t people put goggles on under their caps?). Spent a few seconds kicking on my back to adjust my goggles and do a mental reset after the crazy entry, and then I flipped over, sighted my navigation point, and hit the gas. Even though I was off the boat just ahead of the middle of the race start, there were tons of people in the water and it took a while to move into a good position. So I swam along the outside of the pack for the first 10-15 minutes until I moved mostly clear of the masses. The current was stronger than expected and there was a lot of chop in the bay. This was a much rougher swim than the other time I did it in ’05. For a while, I found a clean pair of feet and took a ride, but the chop was too much to make it worthwhile and I swam on my own for most of the way. Swimming from Alcatraz to the shore is more or less like swimming across a river—you swim perpendicular to the shore just about the whole time. I took in a fair amount of saltwater and was surprised by how rough it was, but I came to shore near the front of the race (57^th best swim time of the race). Coming out of the water, we ran a gauntlet of spectators and into T0—quickly out of my wetsuit and into an old pair of running shoes. The run to T1 was about 2/3 of a mile. Some folks ran barefoot in their wetsuits, but I passed a ton of them—I think the decision to take the time to put on shoes was a good call. Smoothly into T1 and quickly out onto the bike course.

My plan had been to push the swim as much as possible since it’s my strength anyhow, but also to get out on the bike ahead of the masses. The bike course is very technical—steep climbs and descents with sharp corners, all on pavement that’s in pretty rough shape. The course is beautiful—it climbs and descends the roads next to the bay, past the Golden Gate Bridge and loops through Golden Gate Park. Hands down, the most scenic course I’ve ever been on, but there wasn’t a lot of time to sight-see. The bike wasn’t as hard as I expected and I didn’t push too hard overall—I think it was just the right level of effort with good balance between hammering and resting. Big efforts on the short, steep climbs and then soft-pedaling and coasting on the downhills. I made careful turns but there was tons of space to pick a line so it was all good. I got passed by a few folks but didn’t notice anyone in my age-group. (It was impossible to tell race-rank on course because of the 6-mintue start window anyhow.) The bike course is mostly an out-and-back and as I returned, I could see the main part of the race going out. It looked like a big charity ride—bikes 4-wide, drafting, lots of yelling, folks getting forced into bad lines in the corners. It’s just what happens when you put this many riders on such a short course. So my plan to be out front was a good call. I rode the last few miles very hard into transition still feeling strong as I cleared my head for the run. After another good transition, I was quickly back out on course.

I hadn’t been able to preview the run course—I had only read the description and talked to friends about it. I thought I knew about what to expect but wasn’t fully prepared for how tough it would be. The first two miles were flat and mostly on a nice wide trail. At mile two, we made quick turn onto a set of about 50 railroad tie steps and then a steep, twisty, up-and-down section that included a tunnel that started with about 7 feet of clearance but moved down to about 4½ feet by the end—duck!! After about a mile of twists and turns, we came out on the road and began a steep downhill that moved onto a twisty dirt trail and then dumped out on the beach. This downhill was the most painful part of the race for me as I kept my speed in check to avoid wiping out on the dirt. We ran through the soft sand down to the hardpack and then again onto the soft sand to the turnaround. From there, it was back past where we entered the beach to the sandladder (a few hundred log steps held together by cables that took us from the beach up onto the bluff). I walked the sand-ladder (as was my plan) and got up with relative ease. This was probably a mistake not to push—looking at the results I gave up a lot of time here. It’s pretty much downhill from the top so it wouldn’t have been a big deal to have gone hard. Oh well…

Back along the trail, through the low tunnel, down the stairs, and out onto the flat path with a tailwind and 2 miles to go. I pushed very hard and passed several folks then came flying through the crowds that were several people deep in the last mile. I came into the long finishing chute still pushing but I took the time to look up and enjoy the experience. Across the line with a big hand clap and a smile—a memorable finish—I knew this was a good day for me.

2:44:44 overall, 11^th in my age group (out of 253 finishers) and 102^nd overall (of about 2,000). I know I left a little time on the course (as is often the case), but this was as close to perfect execution of a race plan as I’ve had. I loved this race and highly recommend it—definitely should be on any triathlete’s bucket list. That said, I don’t expect to be back anytime soon (but I’ll do it again someday)—it’s expensive to travel to and race this one. But that doesn’t take away from the great experience.

Many thanks to all of my friends and family for their support, to Pansy for making me a tough runner (well, tougher than I used to be), and extra-special thanks to Teegan for arranging travel plans, meals, and logistics—my trip was easy (and race-focused) because of you.

I’m leaving tomorrow for Cycle for Sight in New Mexico. I’ll keep blogging so check in often. And please consider donating—it’s an incredibly important cause. No amount is too small. http://www.cycleforsight.org/html/donate.html.

Thanks for following along.

A few pics from the race