• Have a blast
• Soak in every second of the whole race

Based on my training and fitness levels, I have expectations of what I know I’m capable of, but that isn’t what is motivating me to get to the finish line.

Although I’m not COMPLETELY without time goals. I do have a time goal I want to finish under, but that is top secret. Even if I’m over it by a minute or an hour, I don’t think I’ll be all that upset unless I missed it because I didn’t give it my all.

If I nail the primary race goals, I’ll be posting a ton of race pictures of me with gigantic goofy smiles sometime next week.

In the words of the all wise HolisticGuru:  “Enjoy every second on race day. The ups and downs. Because you’ll never do your first IM again.”

My gear is all organized and my nutrition plan is solid. I have a little notebook with mini plans for the day before, pre-race morning, swim, bike and run on their own pages. Between now and Sunday I’ll carry that notebook with me wherever I go and re-read each page whenever I feel the nerves spike or need a reminder that I’ve got this all locked down.

Until 7 am on Sunday morning, it is just short workouts with a little intensity to keep my body loose and mind straight. Then the last part of my ironman journey can begin. The 140.6 mile long part.

It has even started to influence how I physically organize my apartment so I can spend less time getting ready for training and more time actually out there getting ready to race.

I’ve quarantined a bottle of special bottle of EFS and Liquid Shot to make sure I have enough nutrition goodies for race day and don’t go through it all before I roll into Sandusky.

I’ve made separate swim, bike and run boxes for the cabinet in my triathlon cave for all the random goodies and nick nacks. I also keep all the nutrition bars, GUs and other random stuff in a shoe box so I have everything all in one place.

Can’t find that pair of shoes I need? Nah. They are all hanging on the back of my closet door.

My road bike is neatly hanging on the wall out of the way.

The TT bike is always propped up on the bike trainer, ready for a century ride or 2 hour trainer session at the drop of a hat.

My random assortment of recovery stuff and supplements is all stacked together.

I have a whole shelf dedicated to water bottles.

I’ve been good (usually) about diligently recording every single one of my workouts in Training Peaks.

But no matter how organized everything else is, my drawer dedicated to workout clothes WILL NOT SHUT.

I don’t think that thing has closed in over 6 months. It just won’t happen… Nothing is folded or organized. Thankfully it is at least all clean, but I’m thinking I need to head over to Goodwill to donate gear to some needy triathletes.

Yeah. I’m a huge nerd.

Who the heck gets geeked out about a new hydration system?! I’ll tell you who.

The same guy who is sitting at work dreaming about how aero it looks, fitting neatly against the down tube and seat tube and how he can’t wait to drink out of it on my ride tomorrow.

A big freaking triathlon nerd.

Enter the Speedfil. 42 oz of hydration goodness straight into my face without leaving the aero position. I’ve seen a ton of people battle with aero bar-mounted bottles and was really hesitant to go that route. The Speedfil seemed like a perfect solution, especially after I did the math and realized that with my nutrition plan, 3 standard bottles just wasn’t going to cut it. ESPECIALLY if it is hot on the day of Rev3 Cedar Point. I got the new hook up from All3Sports.com and some new hydration goodness showed up at my door a few days later.

My stomach is going to be nice and happy all the way into T2.

Sure you can read this post here, but go at least go over to the original post over on Kelly’s blog. She has a whole bunch of other Tri Mommy readers and I love reading all their comments.

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Let’s be honest.

Triathletes are some of the best looking athletes out there and I’m not the only one who let that play at least some small part of my decision in what sport to devote hour after endless hour of my free time.

Have you seen a football player in their 40′s?

Have you seen a pro cyclist with his shirt off?

Have you seen the average body type of most pro golfers, well, ever?

My point is that if you want a fit body that even as you age, will probably still make you smile if you catch a view of yourself in your birthday suit in the mirror, that triathlon is a pretty good good choice to get there.

Hence one of my favorite movie quotes from American Beauty:

• Jim Olmeyer: Are you just looking to lose weight, or do you want increased strength and flexibility as well?
• Lester Burnham: I want to look good naked!

Sure, being fast is nice and age group medals are a nice ego boost but being happy within my own skin is a much bigger reward for me. That it what keeps me coming back to compete in this sport. But it isn’t at all about being self absorbed to the point of relentless narcissism. It is about building confidence in what my body is able to accomplish because of the way that it looks.

Despite how my quads, calfs, hamstrings and gluts feel after a +19 mile run or a +100 mile bike, I almost always find myself with a big goofy smile on my face as I come back through my front door. It is a fresh reminder of the huge distance that I was able to cover with nothing but my own two feet.

Since I started training for triathlons, it has done wonders for my self esteem. Not because of how it has made my body looks (either naked or clothed) but because of what I’m able to do with it.  Sure, there are plenty of things I’d still love to change about my body, but so far there hasn’t been any physical challenge that I’ve thrown at it that I haven’t been able to overcome with the right training, so I couldn’t care less about those little things.

24 hour ultra-marathon relay? Hot

4 half ironman triathlons? Beautiful

Training for my first iron-distance triathlon? Sexy

Basically what I’m saying is that the finish line makes me feel pretty.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t think that people examine their entire environment deeply enough when trying to change their body to loose weight or gain fitness.  Ultimately, your body is the way that it is at this moment because of the decisions that you make on a daily basis.

You are fit because you have made frequent choices to stay physically active.

-or-

You are soft around the middle because you have made frequent choices to eat unhealthy food.

Over my adult life, I’ve had distinct different body types that directly correlated to the choices that I made every day and the environment that I created for my body. This ‘ol bag of bones has shown a crazy ability to adapt to whatever it is that I throw at it. I’m constantly amazed and I love seeing how my body reacts to new stimuli on a daily basis. My body is like my own science experiment that I carry around with me every day.

	High School: By the end if HS I was about 130 pounds, running 6-7 days per week and was as fit as f*ck. Sure, I wasn’t the first person you’d call if you needed some help moving some furniture, but I was lean and fast. I ate like crap, but I exercised often enough and hard enough to more than burn it all off. You could count all of my ribs. On my back.
	College: I rocketed to 195 pounds and drank Keystone Light and ate pizza at 2am like it was going out of style. And my body looked like it. I spent zero time running and any athletic activity was spent in the gym pushing weights back and forth. It was the first time in my life where I actually had distinguishable pectoral muscles instead of just the etheopian-like skeleton look I was rocking in high school.
	Post-College: I got hooked on triathlon, which led ultimately to where I am today. I am a soon-to-be iron distance triathlete. I’m not all that fast, but won’t bat an eye at a 7 or 8 hour training session any day. I’ve plateaued at 165 pounds, look at food more as fuel and nutrition than I do a solution to my hunger and I’m probably just as lean as I was in HS with the muscle to avoid looking like some sad cancer patient when I get out of the shower.

What I’m really getting at here is that I don’t think people think holistically about the type of environment that they create for their own bodies when setting up their fitness and weight loss goals. My body adapted to three completely different lives over the past 10 years as a direct result of the physical and nutritional environment that I created for myself. But it isn’t just what I eat and how often I excersize. It is how often I’m sitting in front of this computer every day, walking around outside, riding my bike to the grocery store and cooking my own meals vs. eating out. Whatever it was, my body adapted to it.

I ran as fast as I could and tried to carry as little weight as I could along the way for 3.1 miles. My body adapted.

I abused my body with booze and cheese. My body adapted.

I abused my new weapon – ironman training. My body adapted.

While mental focus and dedication is a huge part of overall wellbeing, you can’t simply wish yourself into the body that you want. Create an environment where no other version of your body can survive except for the one that you want and you’ll find your body adapting closer and closer to your ultimate fitness goal.

This weekend was another long lonely set or workouts. Saturday was a solid 110 mile bike and 2 mile BRick run. Today was a hilly 4.5 hour hilly hike.

I’m feeling strong and ready for race day. Actually, I’m feeling sorta invincible. It has become a common occurance for me to come home from a workout and start flexing and grunting for Sam in the middle of the living room. She just rolls her eyes, but I think it is hilarious. I think I’m looking all fit and glistening in sweat, but in reality I’m just stinking up the whole living room.

But now all the major workouts are in the books. There is nothing left to do but slowly taper for race day. No cramming, just slowly dialing back the length and bumping up the intensity of my workouts, but keeping the frequency. I even got some sweet new race day kicks from Saucony. Check ‘em out. Super comfortable and they are going to keep my feet nice and comfortable to rock the marathon.

Here are the 5 things that I’m going to focus on over the next month:

1. Sleep – I’ve been doing a lot of early morning workouts so that I can actually see Sam between when work gets out and when I go to sleep. I can’t remember the last time that I didn’t have the alarm set to 5:xx am.
2. Eat Right – I’ve been pretty good about keeping my diet in check, but that is going to be extra important over the next month. I’ve gotten pretty lean over the last month or two. I’m hoping to keep that going so that I don’t have any muffin top peeking out under my tri shorts in my race pictures.
3. Race Visualization – This will be a biggie. I have to hone my top secret attack plan for race day and go over it until I can recite it forwards and backwards at 145 bpm.
4. Get my man cave in order – I’m the most organized when all my gear is in order. Plus, it will help me make sure everything is right where it needs to be come race day. Not to mention that the downtube on my bike apparently has dried worms or some crap stuck to it. That needs to get taken care of ASAP. Plus, a good chain degresing and lubing wouldn’t hurt either.
5. Stretch, Yoga and Massage – I’ve beaten up my body lately, especially over the last three weeks. With that comes a lot of knots, kinks and tweaks. Especially in my left hamstring, so you better believe that sucker is going to get some extra TLC. My new favorite massage therapist, Sam Peck, should be expecting a call. Any Boston friends in need of some poking and prodding, definitely hit up www.soarbody.com, but not until I make my appointment!

Anything I’m missing here?

Let’s start back in  elementary school real quick to give some perspective.

Just like most kids, my mom tossed me in the local soccer, baseball and basketball leagues. Unfortunately, I was about half the size of all the other kids and SUCKED at soccer, baseball and basketball. The whole hand-ball coordination thing was just not my thing. I stuck with little league for a while because all my friends were on the team, but it was more of a test of my mental endurance than my baseball skills.

I was the tiny kid stuck in right field picking daisies and not even paying attention to the score because I hated being there. The one time I made solid contact with the ball, it was a laser of a line drive. But it went foul. And almost took out my coach standing on the first base line. That was my one “hit.” At the end of the season I won the award for most walks. I was a joke.

Basketball was no better. Having awful hand-eye coordination and always being at least six inches shorter than all your classmates makes it pretty hard to become the next Lebron. I almost scored a basket once. Almost.

The one thing I was good at was running.

Running the mile fitness test in middle school

When I got to high school, my mom refused to let me become one of those kids that came home from school at 3pm and played video games all night. She forced me to pick a sport for every season. She didn’t care what it was, she just wanted me out of the house, being active and making new friends after school.

Freshman year cross country

Since ball sports clearly weren’t my thing and the one thing I really loved about middle school gym was the annual mile run test, I went with Cross Country. I knew a few guys in the team from Boy Scouts and jumped right in. They introduced me to people that would change my whole high school experience and I never turned back. Over the next four years, I  went from the skinny, shy and nerdy kid who could barely run two miles to the guy that was the captain of the winningest (is that a word) athletic team in the school and bringing home bad ass conference championship trophies. Sure, I still was skinny as hell and looked like an albino Ethiopian, but that was fine.

I was running. Running was me. All was right in the world.

Cross country in the fall, indoor track in the winter and outdoor track in the spring.

I went from the quiet awkward kid to the captain of the team. I wasn’t breaking any state records, but the team we built went deeper than any other in our conference and we started to build a little running dynasty at my High School. It was all about being a part of something bigger, and more awesome, than yourself. Our team rocked.

My senior year was a major turning point. I switched from “that tiny quiet kid” to the captain of the team and leading us to another championship. While living four years of pure running was great, I was burnt out. I was a six foot tall, 140 pound stack of ashes. It wasn’t the end of my athletic career, but there was some twinkling of more endurance sports to come. I just needed to get off my feet for a while.

I broke away from my pack of running friends and dove in to the pool, literally. From seeing a flier at the grocery store that I worked at for a local triathlon and watching Kona on TV, I started to think “hmm, maybe I’ll do one of those some day.” To get there, I figured out that I  needed to learn to swim freestyle. Joining the winter swim team quickly became the next step in my athletic career. Plus, it meant hanging out with cute athletic chicks in bathing suits six days a week. In High School, 90% of the decisions I made revolved around girls, so this was a pretty easy call. It was well worth having to rock the speedo.

I swam. It was fun. I almost drown at first, but slowly got faster and faster.

College came, and I was still burnt out on running. I had no desire to pick up my racing flats and go back at it. Instead, I focused on school, pizza and cheap beer. On top of that, I realized that college chicks, unlike High School girls, didn’t like 140 pound toothpicks. I started hitting the weigh room hard. Over the next four years, I ended up gaining more than 50 pounds, losing 100% of my running fitness and picking up myself a pretty cute girlfriend. Things were changing fast, but it was all in the right direction.

Still with that twinkling of triathlon in  my eye, I asked for a road bike for my  21st birthday and I got just a little closer to being a multisport athlete. Cycling kicked my butt at first, but I didn’t give up and took my bike to class whenever I could to get faster and faster.

Once I had my undergrad and grad degrees under my belt, I decided to finally take the step to complete what had become a race six years in the making: my first sprint triathlon.

I floundered my way through the swim only to battle back and forth with a 300 pound, 60-year old man and a 15 year old girl in cheerleader booty shorts on the bike. Humiliating. The run? It was clear that I was nowhere near the hard core single sport athlete that I once was, but I made my way to the finish.

Holding back vomit, I remember Sam meeting me at the finish line and asking “How do you feel?!”

All I remember saying is “SO HARD! Let’s do it again!”

And that is how I became a triathlete.

I imagine that the feeling is a little different for everyone, but for me the pain in my legs goes away, I get a huge smile, a burst of adrenaline and my entire body gets that “pins and needles” tingling. It doesn’t happen at every race, but when it does, I know it has been a great day.

At Timberman last year, the run course was a two loop out and back. At the half way point as I passed by the buzz of the finishing chute, I started to get “that feeling” and had to mentally calm myself down because I still had 6.6 miles to go and didn’t want to drain my adrenaline reserves with so much left in the race.

Yesterday, I did my longest training run so far for my first Ironman. 19 miles of running with only stops/walk breaks at “aid stations” that I set up to top off my fuel belt water reserves. At about mile 13, I started to get that “finish line feeling.”

It was the realization that all the pieces were coming in to place. My training is going smoothly. I am able to run farther than I ever have before with less effort. It was the ultimate “holy crap, I’m actually doing it! I’m going to be an Ironman!”-type of moment. But then I had to swallow it, calm down and knock out another 6 miles on my feet. There is still plenty of work to do between now and September before I can get that feeling again for real.

I’ve been dreaming of this day for at least 10 years and it is finally becoming reality.

I’ll be living the dream on September 12, 2010. Meet me in Sandusky, Ohio.

I made it to the top of the Ap Gap!

Click here to view the embedded video.

9.42 miles to the top in 55:15. Yeah, that is 10.1 miles per hour…

Total elevation gain: 1,775.

My quads are screaming (as was my mouth as I was climbing the last mile, which was also the steepest part).

Thankfully, the descent was a helluva lot easier. Plus, I found this little mountain stream off the side of the road. Perfect for a little cool down soak.

Portrait of a happy triathlete.

The biking routes are pretty sweet too. Just about all the country roads are framed with TONS of these blue and yellow wildflowers. I’ve gotta snap some good pics of some of the wildflower fields up here later this week to post here. I’ve been having too much fun riding to stop and take too many pictures, but there will be plenty of time for lollygagging later on.

See those mountains WAAAAAAAY off in the distance there? They are calling my name. I want to go ride over there later this week and conquer a few.

But enough rambling, lets get to the story behind the title to this blog post.

Yesterday a bunch of my friends I’m vacationing with went off to play 18 holes of golf, so I figured it was a perfect time to knock off one of my epic adventures for the week: head North to the Canadian border. I didn’t have my passport so I couldn’t go too far into Canada, but even if I could just roll across the border and turn around to head back home, I’d be a happy camper.

I loaded up my water bottles, pointed North and started pedaling. It was hot, but most of the route followed the lake shore so the breeze coming off the water was a huge gift.

Half way to the border. Stopped for 2L of water and inhaled a chocolate chip muffin at the Hero, VT general store.

As I started to get closer to the border, my phone started buzzing. I got a message from AT&T warning me about extra charges for international data rates, I knew I was close! I rolled past the “Vermont Welcome Center” building and there she was, the ultimate destination of the ride. Welcome to Canada: the land of maple syrup, hockey, God knows whatever else those crazy Canucks do up there.

Click here to view the embedded video.

The border patrol was about a quarter mile past the border sign. I didn’t bother trying to go through since I didn’t have my passport and the map didn’t seem to show anything worthwhile across the border for at least another 10 or 15 miles. Not wanting to deal with over zealous border patrol or adding another 20-30 miles to an already 80- or 90 mile ride, I did an about face and headed home.

On my way back, I was riding along and kept hearing this crow squacking right over my head. I didn’t think anything of it until I realized he was following me. Actually, it was more like he was chasing after me and dive bombing me, as if he was trying to shoo me out of his territory. This went on for a solid mile or two, no joke. Once I realized that he wasn’t going to stop, I just yelled “SHUT UP BIRD!” and he disappeared off into the distance. Pretty bizarre. Has anyone else ever had this happen to them?

And did I mention that it was hella hot?! This thermometer was in the SHADE at the VT welcome center. 90 degrees and barely any shade for the entire 88 miles. It was a really good test of my Rev3 Cedar Point hydration plan though. Nutritionally, everything went really well. I couldn’t have been happier.

Next up: exploring Burlington, running and whatever other adventures I can manage to think up while floating out in the lake and staring at the clouds…

I’ll be heading up to Burlington, Vermont with 11 of my college buddies to kick our feet up lake-side. Do some swimming, grilling, boozing and IRONMAN TRAINING. Apparently Burlington is super bike-friendly too. I can’t wait.

None of my college buddies are athletes, so I’ll be the only one doing any actual working out. Needless to say, I’ll be packing WAY more spandex into my suitcase than all 11 of my friends combined. Instead they’ll be doing their part to make sure that everyone is keeping up with their 12 oz curl training regimen.

On top of hanging out with good friends, enjoying some good food and great local brews, there are some key parts of the trip that I’m looking forward to.

1) 90 mile bike route around the lake that requires 2 ferries. I’m not sure why, but this route just looks hella fun to me. Apparently there aren’t many bridges that span Lake Champlain, so taking the ferries across could be an adventure, but isn’t that the whole point?

2) Climbing the “Ap Gap”

I’ve only heard rumors of this legendary climb. Once I figured out that the house we are renting was within riding distance of it, I decided that I HAD TO DO IT. This is the elevation map of the last section of the ride. Need I say more?

3) Descending the “Ap Gap”

There are few things I love more than nasty climbs with awesome views. One of them just happens to be nasty descents with awesome views. I’m hoping that flying down the “Ap Gap” doesn’t disappoint. (Don’t worry Mom, I’ll be very safe and won’t go to fast and flying over the guardrail.)

By 5:45, me and about a dozen other endurance freaks gathered at the Boston Common, mounted our bikes, pointed South and started pedaling.

Destination: Provincetown. The very end of Cape Cod. 135 miles away.

We knew we had to get there by 7 pm or we’d miss the ferry bringing us back to Boston and we’d be stuck there for the night.

You’ve gotta love it when you can do such an epic ride with a group of awesome athletes and friends. Having great company for +8 hours in the saddle makes all the difference in the world.

The sun was out, my legs were feeling strong and the smiles just kept coming. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

At the half way point, we stopped at the Sagamore Friendly’s for some refeuling. They delivered my pancakes before I got my silverware. I was so starving that I just dug in and started tearing apart the pancakes and dipping them in strawberry syrup and eating it with my hands. Note to waitresses everywhere: don’t get between a triathlete and his food. Oh, and keep bringing over that big pitcher of water.

The P’Town Crew chowing down

Back on the road and we kept cranking along. We still had another 60ish miles to go.

Thankfully the second half had much nicer roads as we officially entered Cape Cod and rode up and down the dunes and through some gorgeous neighborhoods.

At about 70 miles in, I hear someone  yell out “TRAKKERS?!”

I didn’t recognize the voice as belonging to anyone in our group, and all of a sudden Trakkers Pro, Dede Griesbauer pulls up alongside and starts chatting. Too cool. We chatted about race plans, I oogled over her sick Shimano Di2 setup and before I know it she blew past our entire group and faded off into the distance. Gotta love surprise team meetups.

The biggest surprise of the ride came at around mile 90. I ended up leading the paceline for a solid 10 miles or so and felt really strong. We had some pretty fast riders with us and I kept expecting them to come up and make me either their dust. It never happened. I didn’t even realize that the tight paceline had formed right behind me until we stopped at the next major turn to make sure everyone had caught up to us and I got a few compliments about leading the group and keeping a fast even pace. Gotta love surprise compliments on skills I didn’t even know I had! Warms my heart. It also helps when we are at mile 90 and everyone’s legs are sufficiently drained and no one’s egos are threatened by sucking the wheels of slower riders.

Once I rolled through the 112 mile mark, I did a mental check. At this point at Rev3, I’d be getting off the bike and starting the marathon.

My legs? They actually didn’t feel too bad. The idea of running didn’t make me want to punch someone in the face, it actually seemed pretty pleasant after all day in the saddle! Could I run the whole 26.2 miles? Maybe only with a miracle, but I have two more months to squeeze out some extra run fitness. More than a training ride, this adventure was more of a confidence booster than anything else.

Nutritionally, I felt like I really nailed it too. While my effort level was way less than the bike course at Quassy and there won’t be a breakfast stop for strawberry pancakes, potato chips or beer at Cedar Point, I think I have a nutrition plan that I can trust. I started off the day drinking a TON (2 liters) of First Endurance EFS. Since it is less concentrated than liquid shot, starting with something that was easier on my stomach didn’t give me the GI issues that I had at Quassy. For the second half of the ride, I survived on straight water from my camelbak and a water bottle full of First Endurance liquid shot on my bike frame. I still have to work on the frequency of sipping on the liquid shot, but that detail shouldn’t be too hard to nail down and test.

Cruising down the Cape Cod bike trail

At around mile 120, we made our last stop of the day in Wellfleet. The Beachcomber.

Seriously, how could you ride past this place and NOT stop for a beer?

Pretty awesome views, right?

People were apparently very surprised to see a bunch of cyclists stroll up to the bar and grab a few beers and corn on the cob. I thought there was a good chance that because of the hot stink that we were laying down from 7 hours of sweating out in the sun, we would be ostracized.

Surprisingly, it was the exact opposite. Several groups of cute girls approached us and asked what the heck we were doing, how the hell we got there from Boston and were sufficiently impressed with our bad-assness. If I was a single guy, apparently strolling into a bar smelling like BO and wearing a cycling kit and leg stubble (I haven’t shaved since Rev3 Quassy) is apparently an AMAZING way to pick up chicks. Like fish in a barrel.

We stuck around for the last few minutes of the USA vs Ghana game. We lost. Got eliminated. The whole bar was silent, slowly dispersed and we jumped back in the saddle to finish the last 15 miles to Provincetown.

These were definitely the hardest miles of the whole route, probably simply because I knew we were getting close, but I wasn’t getting there nearly as fast as I wanted. I was eager to get off the bike, venture around P’town and toss back some ice cold beers. The last few miles were straight, flat and lined with beach cottage after beach cottage. The whole road smelled like beer, lighter fluid, charcoal and seaweed. It doesn’t sound like it would smell amazing, but it had me grinning from ear to ear.

Once we pulled up to the Provincetown pier, I rewarded myself with a pulled pork sandwich, onion rings and a root beer. EVERYTHING tastes better after 135 miles on the bike. My face was covered in ketchup and BBQ sauce like I was a 2 year old trying to eat spaghetti, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to have made the journey with an awesome crew.

The one last reward of the day, a bright orange sunset off the bow of the ferry as we ventured home.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Now I’ve gotta plan some more epic adventures. Time to get creative…