Less than two weeks to Ironman Lake Placid

Hard to believe but Ironman Lake Placid is just 10 days away and the taper is well under way. Like many long distance racers I find the taper period harder in many ways than the long training. My legs feel like hell even as I have barely done anything this week!!!! In a rational way this makes no sense, yet this is how it always is. Next week I expect to get hit with a case of the "marathon flu"* for at least a day or two.

This will be my 6th time at the distance, 3rd try at this particular course. Lots of thoughts about making it to the line as well as what I have to do on July 24th. Just getting to start an Ironman-distance race is incredible. To be healthy enough at 46 years of age to swim 2.4 miles, ride 112 miles in the Adirondack Mountains, then run a marathon is just incredible. I am truly grateful I have the ability to do this. No matter what happens on race day, just getting to the beach for the start is a win.

Like past efforts this one has been a long journey. Last July I was in Lake Placid as a race day
volunteer with Cassie and The Mayor, signing up for this year's race the following day. While it hasn't consumed my life, I have thought about race day a lot since the moment I handed over my credit card to pay for the race.

Ironman training is a discipline. The past few years I have been self-coached which takes a different kind of discipline. The only person I'm responsible to is myself. When I was coached in the past it was a great experience, but one that began to not suit me. Just as you need to be disciplined enough to get the work done, you also need to know when the workload is too much. I am wired to work my ass off, which worked for a good long time. As I moved from my 30s into my 40s I found what had been my strength (the ability to get the work done) had started to become a weakness. Drilling yourself into the ground is great, but not if you can't function correctly for three days, or it leads to injury.

I think back to last December and a run I was doing with a few of my training partners. Both of my mates had never trained with me when I was really focused on getting into top shape for an event of this distance. Yes, they were with me for my Ironman Florida training, but that was done after April knee surgery. I trained hard, but training had to be limited. I pretty sure they didn't believe me when I said I had a way I would be training, which is different than what they had previously experienced. Going into this year I had a plan.

This might not be exactly what tapering is, but after weeks of
long training days it's sure what it feels like.

There were some notable departures from years past. My overall mileage was much less than I did for any of my other Ironman events, with the exception of run training for IMFL (just 6 months post-knee surgery). Intensity was higher than ever via intervals. But more easy as well. Hard is hard and easy is easy. That grey area many of us have a propensity to train in? Not me.

If my body wasn't ready to go I would bag a workout. If I felt a little niggle in my calf I would stop running for three days then reevaluate the situation. Still an issue? Two more days with no run. These two simple, rational things kept me able to train on a consistent basis with no injuries.

So now that the training is over it is about getting race ready. These two weeks are about getting rid of fatigue and getting my head ready to race. This is not my first rodeo. Tapering is something I don't necessarily like but I am pretty good at getting the body ready to race. Mentally I need to be prepared to suffer. Specifically, here is I think I need to do come race day:

Pacing - This isn't just me, this is really what we all have to do. OK, the pros are a different story, but for the rest of us a successful Ironman is all about proper pacing. On the swim I have no worries. Every time I have raced a 70.3 or longer my swim has either been paced where it could be or, more so than not, slower than I am capable of. I am not a swimmer and am mostly self taught. I am good, but in a non-swimmer kind of way. My expectations are very reasonable. On the opposite end of the race is my run. Even at IMFL I had trouble on the back end holding it together. Go out at my slow and maintain it. Which leads to ...

Ironman Coeur d'Alene 2008

Control myself on the bike - I love, love, love to ride my bike. I have expectations on the bike. I can climb. Give me a series of rollers and my smile can get in the way. And that, my friends, has been my biggest problem at this distance. Ironman is a controlled effort that I am not programmed for. As much as I dislike the deep suffering one can have on the run, I really enjoy it on the bike. This is completely backwards!!! For 112 miles I need to make sure I ride within myself so bad things don't happen later on. That means I can ball down the descent to Jay, but "just ride along" for the long climb from the base of Whiteface Mountain back into town ... TWICE. Must. Have. Control.

Nutrition and Hydration - One of the problems I have always faced at this distance is the desire to keep shoving liquids and calories into my pie hole. What makes this worse is I am a heavy, salty sweater so "forgetting" to hydrate for 45 minutes can be devastating. Ten years ago at my first Ironman in Lake Placid I screwed it up so bad that my upper body was cramping, I thought I had a little green man walking the last few miles with me, and the last half-marathon took 3 1/2 hours to complete. I think I figured it out in Florida two years ago, but that was a cool weather race.

This is what bad bike pacing looks like at
mile 15 of the run.

Listen to My Body - I have always had a habit of getting a bit too robotic when I race long. When I considered myself to be a runner I would have a marathon pace and stick to it until it didn't work. Over the last few years I have changed my approach and started to listen to the signals the body was giving me at any given time. Racing the Philadelphia R&R 1/2 Marathon last year I beat my goal time by not running a pace but by letting how was was feeling dictate weather I pushed the pace or held back for a few minutes. Given my history this is probably most important for me on the bike.

Discipline - Everything up to this point comes down to discipline. I have always told my coaching clients who are racing the Ironman distance for the first time that they should think of it as the longest training day of their lives. That takes the ability to stay within yourself and just continue to move forward while staying present enough to do what needs to be done to continue on. The first four items on my list come down to maintaining my discipline all day long.

Keep the Demons Away on the Run - That little voice inside your head can be the best thing, and the worst thing, when racing. At this distance I have never found that voice to be very helpful. This year that has to change. I have a mantra. I will count my steps. I will focus on my form. I had this for almost 17 miles in Florida before my legs just gave out on me. With the almost nonexistent run miles I had for that race I was happy to make it that far. This year I have another 9 miles to quash the negative self-talk. Bottom line is I just need to harden the F&$k up and shut down the negative self talk.

As always, thanks for reading.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

*The "Marathon Flu" is what I have always referred to as that feeling during race week that you are getting sick. That little scratch in your throat that you normally ignore, or the achy body that is a result of actual muscular healing? That's the marathon flu. Can really screw with your mind.

Racing Ironman? Respect the Distance

A few years ago The Queen and I ran into an acquaintance while picking up our race packets for the St. Luke's Half Marathon. Let's call him Mike because, well, that's his name. Mike was "getting ready" to race Ironman St. George, and was just 6 weeks out from his race. He went on and on about how ready he was because, you know, he had "done" all three distances before. And by done them, he meant he has swam a 1.5 mile swim, rode his bike 80 miles one day, and has completed many a marathon. I reminded him that the Ironman swim was 2.4 miles and the 112 mile bike was a bit more than the 80 he said he had previously completed. To be fair, Mike had completed a good number of standalone marathons.

Now Mike is not the leanest person you would ever meet. And in case you know nothing about the Ironman St. George race course, all you need to know is the race is now an Ironman 70.3 because the long course was just too much of a challenge (becuase Ironman should be easy?). To say the course was hilly is an understatement. Put these two facts together and race day would be a challenge for Mike.

I wished Mike luck and went on my way ...

OK, that last sentence is bullshit.

Truth be told, I don't remember the exact wording, but I basically told Mike there was no way he would be hearing Mike Riley at the finish line calling him an Ironman. No, he would be finishing his race by handing his timing chip to a volunteer, not crossing the finish line after a 26.2 mile run. Not a matter of if he would fail, but a matter of how far he would make it before calling it a day.

Mike made it to mile 30-ish on the bike. I am sure he heard my voice in his head when he handed over the timing chip and sat down in the support van. That must have really sucked.

As hard as it may be to believe, I'm pretty sure Mike doesn't like me anymore.

Now I know what some of you are thinking right now - Jon's a real f'in a$$hole for saying such a thing. You need to support people in their efforts; Everyone can't be fast; He paid his money and can do what he wants; And on, and on, and on ...

I admit, I could have handled the situation differently. I COULD have wished him luck, told him he would be fine, make sure you properly fuel your body, etc. Yes, I could have said any and all of those things without upsetting my acquaintance. I would have come off as the supportive friend. It's what people do, right?

No. Not in my world anyway.

I said what I said for one very important reason (at least to me) - respect for the distance. See, I have no problem with someone racing a long distance endurance event and either completing the distance in a "slow" time or having something happen and not completing the course. Not only am I fine with it, but in my little side training business I have worked with people who's goal was to simply complete the Ironman distance in the 17 hour allotted time. And when they do it, it is pure awesomeness. Everyone has their own goals, their own desires. Whatever it is YOU want to do, I'm cool with it.

What I am NOT cool with at all is thinking you can just half-ass your training and muddle through the day. One hundred and forty point six miles is a long day. Heck, just running 26.2 miles or riding a century is a long day. And don't get me started on long swims. I did the 3 mile distance at Steelman OWS one year and wanted to quit somewhere between miles 2 and 3. Problem was I happened to be in the middle of the lake so walking off the course wasn't an option at the time. Never doing that again.

Preparing for an Ironman is no joke. My first full Ironman was at Lake Placid in July 2005. I started training for the race on January 2 of that year. I remember sitting down with Bill and getting that first week of training and thinking he was crazy. The amount of work he had me doing is what I expected to see during peak weeks, not the first week of January. Funny thing is, everything I did those first three months were more about getting fit enough to train for the training I would need to do for the main event. Come race day I was ready (Thanks again Bill!!!).

You just can't wake up one morning and decide you will go out and go 140.6 miles on Saturday. It takes time and dedication. It takes focus and determination. It takes patience and persistence.

Now let's say you signed up for an event that you had all good intention of completing. Because of the popularity of the Ironman you need to sign up for most events in North America a year in advance. Sometimes you can do it online, but for other events you are better off going to the event and volunteering the year prior to make sure you get a spot for the following year. I've done that twice myself.

The problem is, a lot can happen in a year's time. You can suffer a major injury for example. I have experience with this as I had to back out of Ironman Coure D'Alene last year due to injury. Didn't take much for me to realize that I just had to skip the race and move on.

The other thing that can happen is you simply lose your motivation to properly prepare. I totally get it. The IDEA of becoming and Ironman is much different than the day-to-day reality of doing the necessary work to complete the Ironman. 

There are times you are going to give up social activities to ride your bike. There will be times you just don't want to swim, let alone do a 3 x 1k main set. And I don't know anyone who craves a 2 hour run off the bike. The body will hurt and you will get tired. Real tired. All of this is part of the Ironman experience. This is what is necessary to do it right.

Do it the right was and there is a very high probability you will successfully complete the distance. At the end you will either be a one and done, checking the Ironman box, or you will fall in love with long course racing.

When I crossed the finish line in Lake Placid at the end of Ironman #1 my family and friends were there to meet me. The Queen, knowing me as she does, looked at me and said "this isn't done, is it?" I looked at my feet and squirmed like a child caught with his had in a cookie jar. Nine years later the flame is still lit.

I know I am not the fastest, but I have a respect for the distance. I enjoy the process, I crave the work. I love the feeling of being Ironfit.  If the drive to go long - the drive to put in the necessary work to race long - leaves me I'll call it a day. I have too much respect for the sport, for the distance, to have it any other way.

Getting back to Mike, my problem wasn't with his desire to race the race. My problem was with the lax attitude he had towards proper prep for the race. Back to what I said earlier, the idea of being able to call yourself an Ironman is much different than the reality of the work needed to cross the finish line. I find it rather arrogant to think that you can just half-ass it and expect to muddle your way through. I have much more respect for someone who says they can't do it and gracefully backs out than shows up thinking they can fake it enough to succeed.

My point is a simple one - if you decide you want to do an Ironman, respect the distance and put in the proper training to complete the Ironman. If you can't or won't do the work, don't do the race.

Thanks for reading.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

Rule #12: The Post-Ironman Decision Rule

In the world of endurance sport Ironman is a different beast. There are other incredible endurance challenges (Ultraman, Badwater, Leadville 100, Race Across America) for sure. These events are small in size and really only available to a small number of elite athletes. Completing an Ironman, however, is achievable by Joe or Jean Average if he/she has the desire to pay the entry fee, put in the work, then go the distance. Nothing is quite like an Ironman.

Completing 140.6 miles of swim/bike/run in 17 hours or less is a huge accomplishment, taking months of dedicated training and personal sacrifice in the pursuit of crossing the finish line to Mike Riley's voice pronouncing you an Ironman. Those last few hundred meters are emotional for everyone - from first-time finisher to grizzled veteran. For some it is the highest of highs, for others it is pain and frustration. I've yet to meet someone who crossed that line and said "eh, that's was OK."

Ironman Florida Finish - 9:37 finish (swim cancelled race)

Post-race, the emotions continue for sometime. For some the immediate thought is they have checked the Ironman box; for others it is a high like no other. In race terms, one either wants to get back out and race tomorrow, or never, ever go the distance again.

Over the course of the next 4-5 weeks an interesting thing happens. The day after the race everyone is walking around town in their finishers hats and shirts while the best of the best get the opportunity to punch their card to Kona. Once home it continues on with friends and family congratulating you and asking about your race. The emotional highs (or lows) just keep coming as you tell your Ironman story.

And then it happens ... life get back to normal. You are no longer Joe Ironman, but simply Joe once again. Now, after a few weeks time, you can finally get some perspective. What went right? What went wrong? Do I want to give 140.6 miles another try? After about 30 days time one can truly reflect back on race day, get a grip on what happened and decide on future racing.

The rule then is this:

Any decision on racing a future Ironman-distance race should not be made until at least 30 days have passed since your last Ironman race.

Exception #1: The professional triathlete who is racing for a living and KPR points.

Exception #2: The injured triathlete who already has a second Ironman scheduled for the year can decide to opt out of race #2 if physically necessary.

One month ago, on November 1, I crossed the finish line at Ironman Florida in Panama City Beach, for my fifth Ironman finish. Since then I have embraced the off-season, keeping active but without any structure. Mentally I'm starting to get back into it. On Saturday I felt motivated to do a short swim workout, which is a good sign. It was short and sucked, don't get me wrong, but it is good to once again start coming out the other side of the Ironman experience.

As for next year ... time to start making some decisions.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

Related Posts:

Rule#1: Hard is Hard, Easy is Easy

Rule #2: Be Consistent

Rule #3: Don't Become a Slave to Sports Technology

Rule #4: The 20 Minute Rule

Rule #5: Harden the F#$k Up

Rule #6: Don't be "That Guy" ... NOBODY likes him

Rule #7: If You Are Out Training in Horrible Weather, You Are a Badass. Period.

Rule #8: Don't Think, Free the Mind and the Legs Will Follow

Rule #9: When You Train or Race, Dress Event Appropriate

Rule #10:  It Doesn't Suck, It's a Challenge, It's an Opportunity

Rule #11: When It's Time to Take an Off-Season, Take an Off-Season

Ironman Florida Race Reivew - 140.6 miles of ... err 138.2 miles of fun

On November 1, 2014, approximately 3,000 people stood on the beach in Panama City Beach, Florida in anticipation of the start of Ironman Florida. The wind was blowing and the Gulf of Mexico did not look happy. Around 6:40 am, just 10 minutes before the professional men were set to start their race day the official announcement was made - due to unsafe conditions the swim was cancelled. The event would go off as a bike-run only with a time trial start beginning at 8 am.

And so my fifth try at the Ironman distance began, not with a swim, but with a walk back up to my rented condo. My 2014 triathlon year has been an interesting one, starting with a major injury, a DNS at Ironman Coeur d'Alene, a planned DNF at Eagleman 70.3, some solid racing over the Summer months, and now this. Really, I shouldn't be surprised. Nothing went as planned all year, so why should this be any different!!!

Ironman Florida was originally intended to be an experiment. I have never done more than one 140.6 distance race in a year and this would be #2 in 2014. I figured what the hell, give it a shot and see what happens. Honestly, this is not a race I would normally consider doing because the race course doesn't really fit me. Yes, the course is flat. Really, really flat. Which means that the course is "fast," or so the theory goes. But there are issues with as much undulation as you get on your bike trainer.

For a certain type of athlete - the big unit - this is an awesome course to be competitive on. I am not a big unit. Me likes me some hills. Lots and lots of hills. My previous four efforts were in Lake Placid (twice), Wisconsin, and Coeur d'Alene. What do all these races have in common? Climbing on the bike.

The other issue I have with flat terrain is what it does to the body. Specifically, sitting in the aero position for 112 miles and one gear is not fun and hard on the back. Yes, you can get up out of the saddle and stretch out, blah, blah blah, but not what I would consider ideal for Jon. Making matters worse, I know how I am and what could happen ... that moment of saying "eff-it" and laying down the hammer at mile 50 of the bike is much more likely when the road is flat than when I know there are hills down the road that need to be climbed.

This is what flat looks like.

Must. Fight. Inner. Urges. Must. Fight. Inner. Urges.

This race ended up on my schedule because a friend wanted to do it, and she wanted someone to do it with her. Obviously, the list of people most of us know who can and will do an Ironman is not the longest list. I made the decision to help her out and do it, which with the way my season worked out did give me the opportunity to race 140.6 miles this year ... or so I thought.

Anyway ... before I get into how the race day went I want to be perfectly clear about something: WTC and the local race officials absolutely made the correct decision in not proceeding forward with the swim. There was no way in hell it would have been safe to put us out there for the swim. There was a rip current that made it hard for the boats and nearly impossible for the kayaks to get in place. What do you think would have happened to the weak swimmers? How many DNFs would there have been if we ran into the ocean at 7 am?

The weather reports leading up to race day had been getting more sketchy by the day. We arrived on Wednesday, but The Queen and Shelly didn't come down until Thursday. This worked out well as I called The Queen before she left for the airport to have her retrieve some arm warmers I left behind because, really, who needs arm warmers for a race in Florida?

The picture below is what the ocean looked like on Friday morning, 24 hours before the start of the race. This is also what it looked like 24 hours after the race. Oh, what could have been.

On Saturday night a front came through the Panama City Beach area. By Saturday morning the temperature was 44 degrees, the wind was howling at 20-30 miles sustained with gusts, and race day started to look like an interesting little adventure.

This is what the ocean looked like on race morning:

Source

So back up to the condo to take the wetsuit off and figure out what to wear for 44 degrees and windy conditions. Also, I started to consider how this changes the dynamics of the race. With a TT start and no swim, there would be a much different mix of people out on the course around. Being the 2696th person to start, there would be a lot to consider, as well as a lot of weaker cyclists to pass.

Swim  Pre-Race

Around 8 am Emily and I got back to transition. I had taken in a gel around 6:30 in prep for the swim that didn't happen. Back in transition I was unsure of exactly what to do from a nutritional standpoint. I drank water, a bit of EFS, and hit the port-o-john twice. After Emily went off around 8:40 I found a semi-wind-free area to sit. Not exactly warm, but not unreasonably cold. Around 9:45 I finally could jump on my bike and start my day.


Bike - 112 miles 5:23:17 20.7 mph

The original game plan for the bike was simple: ride steady, stay within my abilities, stick with my nutrition plan through the entire ride, and get off the bike ready to run. With the change in the race I contemplated what to do. During the almost 2 hour wait in transition I decided to take things out a bit harder than the original plan. Without the energy burn of the swim and the expected headwind during the first hour plus, I felt the extra effort would be OK.

So after sitting around for almost two hours I took the initial minutes of the bike to get clear of the people immediately around me and get some blood into my legs. Without a 2.4 mile swim as a warmup the start felt more like the beginning miles of a long training ride than an Ironman ... except for the log jam of cyclists out in front of me. With conditions being less than ideal, I made sure to swing wide when passing, worried about swirling winds causing a crash.

The first 7 miles of the bike took us west along the coastline before making a right hand turn due north, almost directly into the NNW winds for the next 16 miles. These miles were harder than ideal conditions would have handed us. While fighting the winds I kept reminding myself that we would be coming back this way with the wind in our favor.

Then it happened. Just before making the turn to the east, somewhere between mile 21 and 22 it happened ... the train came rolling through. Not two. Not three. But four guys in my age group came riding by, sucking wheel, blatantly cheating.

I nearly lost my $hit.

I picked it up, passed by with a few choice words for the three wheel suckers before informing the dude up front that he was escorting a group of douches. Felt bad for the guy as he was working hard. Well, not too bad as he knew what was happening and he did nothing about it. They passed me back and I let them go. Then I made the decision to let it go, worry about my race, and make sure I had legs for the run.

F'em. Let the cheaters cheat. Get your head back in the game.

The pace picked up when the wind was at my back but, honestly, I really didn't feel good. The downtime in transition had me feeling a bit tight. Didn't feel bad, but didn't feel good. Around mile 30 this all changed, suddenly feeling like my legs were finally ready to ride.

The ride here is nothing special. The roads are flat, there isn't a whole lot to see, and the biggest worry is the traffic on some of the roads and the rough road on the out-and-back from miles 53 to 58. I continued to ride along just staying in my zone thinking about running well off the bike.

Around mile 47 I did something I have never done during an Ironman, then again around mile 72 - I got off the bike to pee. I saw this as a great sign that I was doing what was necessary to set up a good run. And yes, I know that you don't necessarily need to stop to take care of business, but it was windy and cold. Better to "lose" a minute for the stop than freezing up the junk. Just sayin'.

Bike Data via Garmin Connect

Other than the woman who crashed at mile 58, I had no real drama on the bike. After my mile 72 pee break I felt good and pushed a bit into the wind before making the turn south around mile 83. By mile 100 I finally had little company as I passed most of the riders I would pass for the day while the faster riders were up the road. For a good 40 minutes or so it felt like it was just me and my bike.


T2 - 6:11

Coming off the bike I felt better than I did at my first 4 attempts at the Ironman distance. I was hydrated, fueled up and ready to run. I had my own volunteer in the tent who helped me prepare for 26.2 miles of running. I could have been faster, but wanted to make sure I took care of two important things before starting the run - get a new layer of suntan lotion applied, and pee.

Run - 26.2 miles 4:07:53 9:27/mile

How the legs will react in the first few miles of the run is always the great unknown. More so this time around as my run training had been limited all year. Heading into the race my longest run logged all year had been just under 17 miles. With the low run volume heading into the race I had a simple plan: head out easy, take a walk break through every other aide station (approx. every 2 miles), and stay on top of nutrition by taking in some EFS gel and water at every aide station.

Heading out of transition all was good. After getting my nutrition right on the bike, I felt energized, hydrated, and ready to run with a smile on my face. As I headed out I was greeted by cheers from family and friends. The first mile had a supportive crowd, a group of Captain Americas, 10 people dressed as Chiquita Bananas, and a crew of young ladies dressed for Halloween. All were nice distractions as I settled in.

During the first loop I found a sustainable pace between 8:00 and 8:30 per mile early on. All was going to plan and by mile 10 my pace had slowly moved up to a steady 7:50ish pace. Unlike previous efforts at this distance I made it to the halfway point without an unplanned walk break.

Around mile 13 the runners return to town where you get some love from the crowds and a chance to get your run special needs bag. Which leads me to kudos to the volunteer who not only had my bag ready for me when I reached the bag area, but he ran in stride with me, handing off my gel flask on the move. Thanks for taking the extra effort.

Heading out onto the second loop I remained steady ... and then ... it happened. My first (and only major) mistake on the day. Stomach problems.

Somewhere along the line I started burping. Nothing unusual, but it is a sign that you aren't processing the nutrition you are taking in. Solving it is simple - stop taking in calories while taking in water until it passes. The sugar isn't getting into you so there is no reason to take in anything but water. Once the burping stops you are good to resume calorie intake. Where I got into trouble was ignoring the blatant sign.

For the next 45 minutes or so I ran when I could, walked when I had to, while drinking as much water as I could manage, hoping this would eventually pass ... which it did ... in the way that it always does ... with a few huge farts. Suddenly my gut felt much relief and running could proceed. Shortly after I began running I could take in nutrition once again.

And for those of you who may be wondering, yes, this is a thing. This whole process is eloquently referred to as the burp-fart method.

Back to the race: at this point the sun had gone down and it was getting pretty darn cold. The second mistake I made on the day was leaving my gloves in T2, figuring I wouldn't need them. My hands were freezing. Completely forgetting the early sundown time in early-November and that I started running around 3:30 and not 1:30, running in the dark and cooler temperatures weren't the consideration they should have been.

From mile 20 on in I ran slow, walking in spots, enjoying my best marathon off the bike. It became clear that the inability to put more run miles in were an issue. Nothing I could do except keep on moving forward to the best of my ability. Yes, a 4:07 isn't a super fast time, but a 59 minute PR. This represents not only how well I held it together on the day, but how piss poor I have done in the past.


Overall: 9:37:27 43rd in AG 45-49, 286th overall male, 320th overall finisher

When it comes to Ironman racing the race you imagine is never the race you get. Something always happens, even for the best. There is never that perfect day. But my day here turned out to be pretty good. My bike split was 13+ minutes than my best effort (a 5:36 at IM Wisconsin, 2007) and my run split 59 minutes faster than the 5:06 I ran in Lake Placid in 2011. While you can't just throw a best-guess swim time in front these results and say I would have gone XX:XX:XX, I think it is safe to say this effort turned out to be my best one to date. Still, there is an asterisk next to these results, because without a swim ...

Overall Impressions and Final Thoughts

As I stated previously, IMFL is not a race I would have chosen to do on my own. I prefer to race a hillier course and am physically more suited to that type of terrain. I signed up to help a friend out, get another Ironman under my belt, and try and get a PR. Due to the cancelled swim, the PR will have to wait. I did help out a friend and I do have race #5 under my belt. With the highly competitive nature of my age group and my lack of physical gifts, my best bet to getting to Kona is likely to come from either the mother of all days or, more likely, a legacy spot after 12 finishes.

Would I come back to Panama City Beach to race again? Maybe, but not because I disliked the race. The area is nice, the race venue is very user friendly, and the host hotel condo we stayed in worked out nicely for the two of us racing as well as our support crew. (Please note: if you are going to stay at the host hotel, pay up for one of the condos, which is a much better experience IMHO than the basic hotel rooms). For the big unit or the person who doesn't want to deal with hills, I would most definitely recommend this race.

For the 1000+ first timers I feel a bit sad. After months of training to have the swim cancelled is a hard thing to deal with. Yes, you crossed the finish line. Yes, you have your finishers medal, t-shirt and hat. Not sure if you really can say you checked that box off without the first 2.4 of the 140.6. It's tough, for sure, but with the conditions being what they were, better to not get the swim in than to see 100s of people DNF on the swim, or something so much worse. Safety first. WTC made the correct decision.

As for me, I am deep into my off-season doing very little in the way of swim/bike/run. Last week I started back up with the strength training, looking to build my strength back up. I will be at a few local running races in the coming weeks in participant-only mode. There's a time to stress the body. November is not that time.

Will there be another Ironman on tap for 2015? Maybe. I don't know. At some point I will contemplate what I would like to do next year. Now is not that time. The Ironman experience is too fresh to think clearly about next year.

Thanks for reading.

Train hard. Stay focused.

Jon

Ironman Florida - Game Plan, Goals & Thanks

Ironman distance (and longer) racing is unlike any other distance a triathlete will race. With shorter races it's all about speed. The Half Ironman (calling it a 70.3 still feels awkward) distance is more about pacing than the shorter races, but still has that element of speed to it and poor race-day nutrition can ruin your day.

Ironman is a different beast.

When you are lining up for 140.6 miles you need to be fit. To race "fast" you need to be super-fit. If you don't put the miles your best-case scenario is a long day of hurt and struggle. If you are fit you will still have periods of hurt and struggle. Why? Because it's an Ironman.

As my training cycle progressed I had a general idea about my fitness level and what I should, in an ideal situation, be able to accomplish. I'm not talking about what I think I can time trial 112 miles in without a marathon to follow, but about a time I can realistically step off the bike and have my run legs under me. Same for the swim. Same for the run.

I have some numbers in my head for each of the three disciplines as well as an overall time goal. And yes, I know, we shouldn't have time goals, even as we all have them in some form or another. Those times I have in my head, however, are not really relevant.

My PR at this distance is a 12:06:xx, which is nowhere near my physical capabilities then or now. Ironman is about being physically fit, but also about race day execution.

At four attempts at the Iron-distance my execution has been for shit.

Goal number one for tomorrow is execute my race plan. Here's how that breaks down ...

Swim: Over the years I have become a respectable swimmer. As a late starter I will never be able to hang with the big boys and girls, but I certainly can post a respectable swim time/placing. Tomorrow's swim is in the Gulf. Execution of my plan is to get into the water in a good position to find feet that are a bit faster than mine and use the draft for a comfortable warm for the day. While I am not the fastest swimmer in a pool, I have developed the open water skills to conserve energy but still swim fast (for me).

And because it is a mass start, goal #2 in the water is to not get kicked in the face.

Bike: Here in lies both my strength and my Achilles heal. There is a saying in triathlon that you "ride for show, run for dough." Me likey show ... and that stops tomorrow. At my four previous attempts at the distance I have rode respectable and ran for shit. Coming out of T1 I need to hold myself back. I need to listen to my own advice. When someone goes by me I need to let them go. Truth be told, dude is either going to blow himself up or he is flat out better than I am. Either way, that's his (or her) race, not mine.

After settling in I need to find my effort level and stick with it the entire ride. I train with power and heart rate but race with heart rate only. After settling in, I have a heart rate cap I plan on sticking to.

Nutrition on the bike is vital for my success. My advice to others is always that their job on the bike is to get the liquids and calories in. You are fueling on the bike to not only get 112 miles of riding in, but also well hydrated and fueled to run. A good bike ride will have me coming off the bike feeling ready to run. Bad fueling = bad ride.

On my best half and full Ironman rides I have always found a group to legally ride with. Sitting at a legal distance you get a small drafting effect. More important, I find it easier to follow a steady wheel than a completely solo time trial. Think about the strategy the pro men use when they race. With this being a flat course I expect to find guys to ride with. While there will surely be drafting out there, I promise it won't be me.

Run: Slow and steady out of T2. Get my legs under me, then find a steady rhythm. Continue to fuel at every aide station. Walk aide stations when necessary and keep the heart rate in check. A good run is one without extended walk breaks. A good run is one where I keep my head in the game. A good run = a great race.

My default when I race any distance is to push my limits and see what happens. Which is exactly how NOT to race an Ironman. In a real sense I will spend the day fighting my own inner instincts to just go. A good race will be well paced, well fueled, and include a respectable run. Do all that, and the overall time will work itself out just fine.

----

One of the things about racing in Florida is you need to be prepared for weather. the weather I expected to be concerned about - heat and humidity - is the furthest thing from what we will have on race day. Take a look at the weather forecast for Panama City Beach for Saturday morning and two things will pop out at you. One, the temperature. At the start of the race it should be in the mid-40s and a high of 61. Second, the wind. Right now they are calling for 20-30 mph sustainable with gusts.

Guess the crazy, windy rides the past few weekends will come in handy.

----

To get to the starting line of a long distance triathlon takes a lot of time and personal dedication to a goal. On race day it is you who is out there racing the race, challenging yourself on the day. If you have ever gone the distance, or live with someone who has, you know that it is not a solo journey. Getting to the start line is a team effort for sure.

Of course I have to start with The Queen who gives me the time to train and puts up with the large quantities of food necessary to train on a daily basis. She lives with a middle aged man with the eating and laundry habits of a 16 year old boy.

Speaking of training, it wouldn't be possible without my training partners. Between the Towpath Running Crew, Kenny's Wednesday Night Ride, and Char's Kick Ass Sunday Morning Ride I always have someone to push me when needed. Not to be overlooked are both Cassie and Danielle who let me periodically take them out for a ride and kick their asses. Hahahaha.

And speaking of training partners, I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Emily. More than a year ago she said she wanted to do an Ironman and Florida was the one. At the time my response was, "what the hell, I'll do it with you." And here I am, ready to roll.

Speaking of ready to roll, I must thank Dr. Robert Palumbo at OAA for making it possible to even make it to the start line. Coming into 2014 Ironman Florida was to be my second full Ironman of the year. After tearing my right meniscus IMCDA was off the table. Fortunately I had a great surgeon in Dr. Palumbo who had me back on the bike two weeks after surgery. Now just six months later here I am.

Finally I would be remiss if I didn't mention my parents - Bob and Hilda Soden - who think I'm crazy for doing this but still follow me to big races, as well as my partners at Magellan Financial, who cheer me on and let me slip out at times for a swim, bike or run.

Again, thank you to those who have helped me make it to tomorrow morning's start line.

Train hard.Stay focused.
Jon

Some Quick Thoughts on Saturday's Ironman Florida

Wow. Finally time to get 'er done. After a rather interesting year, my final race, my "A" race, is less than 48 hours away. After a full day of flying, then driving yesterday, Emily and I had a chance to get out for a quick bike in the morning and a few minutes swimming in the gulf.

Here's a few thoughts I've had since stepping foot in Panama City Beach yesterday afternoon:

From an accommodation perspective, we made the correct choice on where to stay. The host hotel (which could best be described as what you might stay at in Wildwood, NJ) has condos associated with them. After seeing the hotel rooms we opted for the condos. Turns out, great choice!!! Full kitchen, a lot of room, and a great view. If you do this race in the future, this is the way to go.

Seriously, how horrible is this view from out room?

Flying isn't fun, but hours in a car is worse.

You can get some really good food in some off the radar places.

Not the fanciest joint but good eats for all - Flamingo Joe's Grill and Seafood 

Ironman is not a cheap endeavor, but for the money you get a very well organized race experience. Both the athlete's pre-race meeting and check in this morning were smooth. With 3,000 volunteers for the event all the bases are covered.

Florida is really, really flat. We rode 17+ miles today and my Garmin showed a net elevation gain of less than 30 ft. The 112 mile bike course shows 620 ft of vertical, which I find hard to believe. Must be a bridge out there somewhere.

Swimming in open water can be just awesome. We spent about 20 minutes in the water this afternoon, looking to get used to the ocean. Took me about 10 seconds to get over it. Swimming straight out away from the shore in crystal clear water is pretty awesome.

Training can be grueling while tapering can be mentally challenging. After months of training big, slowing down to freshen up isn't as fun as it sounds. Healing legs tend to be sore or dead or something other than fresh. Now don't get me wrong, I am feeling good. Going through two weeks of getting to this point ... never feels good.

November 1 is late in the year to do an Ironman. Part of the challenge this time around has been staying motivated to get in the pool and get out on the bike. My last triathlon has traditionally been in September. Scheduling like this has allowed me to back off the swim while preparing for a running event. Even last year, when I did a half Ironman in early October, I cruised through September on lower swim volume. As for the bike, pre-work rides have been in the dark while weekend rides have been done in some of the windiest conditions I can remember.

Having a race-day plan is a must. Once you have the plan you must go over it many times to make sure it sticks. For an Olympic or sprint distance race it is simple - go as hard as you can until you hit the finish line. For a 70.3 I usually pull back a notch or two on the intensity and I'm good. Iron-distance is a different beast. It takes planning and focus on the plan.

For those who have an interest, my race number is 2696 and Emily is 1192. The event will be posting updates at www.ironman.com along with live video feed at the transitions and finish line. In the past Ironman.com has had issues with timely updates, but have no fear ...  The Queen will have possession of my phone and Facebook page for updates as well.

Tomorrow I'll have another post up with my thoughts on the race.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

Ironman: A Queen's Perspective

I am not an athlete.  Never was.

Yeah, I take CrossFit classes. I run.  I've even finished two half-marathons.  But I really don't consider myself an athlete even though I've been accused of being one.

You see, I hate running and I hate CrossFit.  I REALLY hate to sweat.  But I love it. All of it.  And I'll tell you what else I love...I love to eat. Running and CrossFit give me caloric freedoms I've grown to depend on. But I'm not an athlete.

I am, however, married to one.  Not just an athlete, a TRIATHLETE.

Jon Soden runs. He bikes. He swims. He puts more miles on his body in a week than I put on my car. And he's good at it. He strives to become better.  He's an athlete.

When we got married Jon was a powerlifter.  Nobody saw this triathlete thing coming.  He started running one day and then things just "ran away" so  to speak.  I'll never forget the day he told his mother and I he had decided to do an Ironman.

We were in New Hampshire for a triathalon eating breakfast when he broke the news.  I think he figured he had safety in numbers to deal with our reaction.  His mother was there, so I probably wouldn't kill him and there were witnesses.  His Mom and I had the exact same reaction, "What the F$&K is wrong with you?" 140.6 miles.  I told him to get his affairs in order. I was convinced he would die.  He didn't.

And now, this Ironman thing just won't go away.  He is ready to take on #5 in Panama City, FL. Although I do respect anyone who completes a physical competition of this kind,  I still think it takes a special kind of crazy to do this. I've come to find enjoyment in asking the people who have joined this growing "cult" to please take note of the moment they ask themselves on that long, grueling day, "What the F$@k was I thinking?"  Because the fact of the matter  is, I don't care who you are, that question is going to cross your mind.

I won't ever have to worry about asking myself that question because you will never see this "athlete" riding that crazy train and here's why...

10. 140.6 miles.  I honestly don't put that many miles on my car in a week.

9.   I'd rather drown trying to save my cocktail from going overboard than getting kicked in the head at the mass swim start.

8. The last time I rode a bike it had a basket on the front. I probably fell off.  I do that a lot.

7.  Port-o-potties. Or worse yet, not making it to one.

6.  Chafing.  In all of the places.

5.  140.6 miles.  Did I mention that already?

4.  The 17 hour time limit. If I trained for this thing, you better give me a month to complete it if that's what it takes.

3.  The fact that you can simply walk around in the tin foil warmer blanket and people will congratulate you on your Ironman finish.  It happened to me for real.  All of the glory, none of the pain.

2.  The only thing I can do for 12 straight hours (or more) is sleep.

1. I. AM. NOT. AN. ATHLETE.

But, like I said, Jon Soden is.  And regardless of how crazy I think Ironman is (and I do), he seems to "enjoy" it.  There's something to be said about that.  There's something to be said  about someone who has the dedication and love for the sport that enables them to complete countless hours of training and 140.6 miles of competition. There's something to be said about riding that crazy train for the 5th time...voluntarily.

I've stood at an Ironman finish line before.  Sometimes it's pretty, sometimes it's not...but it's a finish, an accomplishment.  And a HUGE one at that.

I guess that's what happens when you're an athlete.

The Queen

Why Ironman?

On July 23, 2006 I was in Lake Placid, NY racing Ironman Lake Placid. When we jumped into Mirror Lake that morning it was about 50 degrees with a light rain. By the time I started the marathon the sun came out and the temperature climbed into the 80s. From a fitness perspective I was ready to race. My big mistake that day had to do with nutritional intake, or more to the point what I didn't take in. The back half of the marathon took me close to three hours to complete. After crossing the bridge after the River Road out and back I thought about laying down on the big rock right next to it. Which would sound completely rational except for one thing - there is no big rock. Yeah, I screwed up my nutrition so bad I literally saw things that weren't there.

After the race The Queen took one look at me and said, I quote, "this isn't over, is it?"

I smiled that smile that says this is only the beginning. I was hooked.

In thirty days I will be in Panama City Beach, Florida for my fifth go at the Ironman distance. I am older and, hopefully, wiser. This year hasn't panned out as I originally planned, but that doesn't really matter. My fitness is solid and I have some big goals for November 1. In 30 days we go and get 'er done.

But why? Why Ironman?

When asked, I tend to blow it off with an "I don't know, it's just something I do." Really. I don't think anyone buys it, but that's my usual response.

Truth be told, everyone who toes the line at a full Ironman-distance race has a reason for being there.

For some people they do an Ironman for a cause. Others do it to reach a life-long goal. The professionals do it for the paycheck. There are as many reasons as there are Ironman finishers.

For me it's more complex. It's been said that the Ironman is the worlds hardest one-day endurance event. I don't know if racing 140.6 miles of swim/bike/run is the hardest one-day event, but it certainly ranks right up there. I like that.

The Ironman is not something you can just wake up one morning and say, "I think I'll go do an Ironman today" and then go out swim/bike/run 140.6 miles. You could try, I guess, but even the fittest among us would have a tough go of it. To go 140.6 it takes time, persistence, discipline.

Just getting to the start line of an Ironman is something I find impressive. It takes work ... lots of work, over an extended period of time to get ready to complete the distance. I like that too.

My training for Lake Placid in 2006 started on January 2 of that year. For almost four months I trained almost every day just to get my body ready to specifically train for the race. Then, for the next three months I swam, biked and ran more than I did the previous four months. Waiting on the small beach area of Mirror Lake I felt confident I would end up in the speed skating oval slapping spectators hands as I headed to the finish line.

But unlike single sport athletes, the work you do is not so straight forward. If you are a runner, you go outside and run; If you are a cyclist, you hit the road and ride; If you're a swimmer, you spend your time looking at the black line as you go back and forth. To excel, or just improve, at any of the three sports, you put in the time, you do the interval work, you work on the technique. As a triathlete you need to do this for all three sports, all at the same time. This takes work and discipline.

Just to complete a full Ironman distance race you need to have at least a base level of competence at three separate sports. You may be able to get away without swimming and doing a sprint or Olympic distance tri, good luck with swimming 2.4 miles without putting in the pool time. Or for that matter, biking 112 miles or running a marathon without a certain level of fitness specific to those sports, let alone on a whim.

Once race day comes you need to have patience, discipline and focus for the 9 - 17 hours it takes to complete the event. I admit is a challenge for me. The swim is about getting through without getting kicked in the face or punched in the nose while burning as little energy as possible. Biking 112 miles requires one to stay well within your means while properly fueling for the run. The run is about pacing, then survival. Sounds easy in theory. It works in practice. But damn is it hard to execute (at least for me) on race day. But that's what makes it appealing - having the ability to stay within myself so that my fitness can be reflected in my final results. Haven't done it yet ... but I will.

So while I would like you all to believe I don't really know why I do it, I know exactly why I'm out there: It is the pursuit of the patience to build fitness, the focus to do the work, and the discipline to keep from doing something stupid that will ruin my day so my fitness level reflects my performance. Over the years I have been able to figure out how to get to the starting line rested, injury-free and fit. As for race day, that continued to be a work in progress. The plan on November 1st is to make the 5th time the charm.

For you, my friend, if you are doing an Ironman in the future, or are thinking about doing an Ironman at some point, you really need to know why you are out there. When training gets hard you need to remind yourself of why you are doing it; When the racing gets hard (and it will, I promise) you need to remind yourself of why you are out there.

Do you have an Ironman on your schedule or do you want to do one in the future? What's YOUR motivation?

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

About That Knee Surgery I Had Last Week ...

Whatever you could say about my athletic abilities - or lack there of - the one thing you could never accuse me of is being lazy. As Woody Allen said, 80% of life is showing up.  And show up I did. Day after day, month after month, and year after year, I was there training and racing. You can say and think whatever you do about me, but you can't call me lazy and you can't call me inconsistent.

After beating the $hit out of my body with heavy squats and deadlifts for years I caught the endurance bug, running the first of many marathons in 1999. Eventually I caught the triathlon bug which inevitably (in my mind) led to my first full Ironman in 2006. I might not be close to being the best at it, but I have been going long for a long, long time. And I have been doing it, for the most part, injury-free.

Last week, for the first time in seemingly forever, I went 5 days without any swim/bike/run. As the title of this post notes, my extended rest has been forced upon me by my first (and hopefully only) major injury - a torn meniscus. Last Wednesday I had surgery to repair the problem.

As far as the actual surgery, everything went fine. After arriving at the surgery center around 11:30 am I began the process of being readied for procedure. As a part of this process everyone - and I mean everyone - you meet asks you your name and birth date (something about making sure they are doing the right procedure on the right person). They also want to make sure you are comfortable, which is nice when you haven't been able to eat or drink for 16 hours or so.

The procedure took about an hour and was good and bad. Good because there were no complications; bad because there was more damage than originally expected. None of this came as much of a surprise.

The next day The Queen drove me over to meet with the Physical Therapist, Rick, and see what was going on under the Ace bandage. What we found was all good. While swollen and bruised, it wasn't bad. My range of motion was close to normal while all of the surrounding muscles were working just fine. Apparently muscle activation post-surgery can be an issue for some. I was able to walk  (slowly) without crutches. PT Rick instructed me to keep icing, take it easy, and do a few basic exercises three times per day. He cleared me to drive starting Friday.

My original plan for the weekend was to spend the bulk of my time on the couch with my legs up and ice on my repaired right knee. Other than a few short ventures out and Easter dinner with The Queen's parents, that is where I spent my time. I'm fairly certain I not only got my money's worth out of my Netflix subscription for the year, but that I read more in those five days than I have in the past month.

After seeing PT Rick on Monday everything looked "very good" and I received clearance to start riding a bike on the trainer for 30 minutes each day. Needless to say, I have been riding, hoping to be back outside next week sometime. In the meantime I continue to do exactly what I'm told I can do, nothing more.

Recovery time is expected to be weeks, not months. Bike will be first, then back in the pool. Physically I could probably swim today, but need to wait for the wounds to heal or risk infection. I choose to avoid infection. Running is still 4-6 weeks out.

So in the short-term, I'll be back. This Summer I expect to be racing myself back into shape and Ironman Florida is still a-go.

But what about the long-term? The damage in the knee was worse than expected. Tomorrow I'll be back with The Doc and get to hear and see all the gory deets. I'll be able to run again, but not nearly as much volume as I have in the past ... unless I want to ruin the knee and not be able to run. I can, however, swim and bike my ass off without concern for my right knee.

The practical application for me appears to be the days of running 2500+ miles and 3 marathons in a year are over. When the roads get sketchy I either stay in on a treadmill or skip that day's run. Triathlon is good, but my approach to getting physically prepared will be much different with more focus on the bike and less emphasis on running mileage. Long distance racing should still be doable, but emphasis will have to move to shorter distance events.

In the end it is about remaining active and making sure I have longevity in this crazy world of sport. I have become comfortable with the fact that things have changed, forcing me to adjust. Better to listen to sound advice than it is to be foolish with my health. Better to take care for the long-term than it is to be self- destructive. Better to continue on with a different focus than it is to be permanently sidelined.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

Do you remember that time you had the perfect plan and it all went to ...

"Race when you are healthy and able because you never know when that may change." - Lo-Jack

After the final race of the year and a few weeks of R&R, I started to plan out the 2014 race season. Already having two "A" races on the schedule - Ironman Coeur d'Alene and Ironman Florida - it was simply a matter of filling in a few tuneup races, filling in the training blocks, and tracing out the important workouts. For once in my life I had it all sketched out on paper BEFORE the season started. Once January hit it would be a simple matter of filling in the weekly details.

Come January 1 all was good. I started my base period, focusing on strength on the bike and speed in the pool. Coming off a calf strain, running was mostly base miles. Simple, straightforward training.

Then it happened ...

On morning after a run I felt some tightening in my right knee while stretching. This pain was not an unknown to me. Presenting like a tendinitis issue I have dealt with in the past, I went with my standard protocol for this problem. A few week later, things were no better, and I was not running.

Something was different.

For what is probably the first time ever I made the decision to call a doctor. A few days later I was in the office of a sports medicine doctor at OAA Orthopedic Associates getting an x-ray and MRI. A few days after that my fears were confirmed - a meniscus tear. Fortunately, the tear was minor, probably with me for some time, and not necessarily bad enough for surgery. Long story short, after working through the problem, thinking we were in the clear, then dealing with the problem again, the decision was made to get a surgeon involved. Yesterday (April 3) I sat down with a surgeon and will be having surgery in a few weeks.

How things have changed ...

A few weeks ago The Queen informed me that Ironman Coeur d'Alene wasn't going to be happening - I wasn't able to train as needed and nothing good could come from attempting 140.6 miles in an unprepared state of fitness. More than likely I wouldn't be ramping up the run fast enough to give me a chance at a successful marathon off the bike. We talked about it (I had already looked into a number of options), and both agreed it wasn't going to happen. Even if I could have evaded surgery, The Queen was correct.

I have been keeping in shape on the bike and in the pool. I do miss running, but have hit new PR times in the pool and am starting to feel good on the bike. Between now and surgery I will continue to build fitness knowing I will be out of commission for a period of time. I've been told that getting back into the pool and on the bike will happen relatively fast, with running dependent on how much repair needs to be done. Big picture, Ironman Florida and my Fall racing season are still on tap.

Mentally I'm OK with this and will be writing more about it. I did my first of 30 marathons back in 1999 and my first of four Ironman distance events in 2006. All this time I have been relatively injury free, dealing with minor muscle strains and the occasional lower back pain. Don't get me wrong, it's not all "happy happy joy joy" around here, but I do understand the miles I have in my legs. I would much rather be thinking about 20 mile runs, 100 mile rides, and a crazy long transition workouts than surgery, rehab and planning out a comeback.

And that's how your perfect plan goes from awesome to crap.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon

2014 - The Year for Racing Ironman

I have always taken the view that my racing is something that is very personal and should be what I find enjoyable. Some years it is about doing the familiar races, other years about destination racing. Over the (many) years it has changed.I started out just running a few 5ks, then I added some half marathons ... then marathons ... then triathlons ... then finally Iron-distance triathlons. This evolution has occurred over way too many years.

My opinion is every season of racing is, and should be, different. While I do have a number of races I enjoy doing most every year, I am not the guy who races the same 6 or 7 races every year. I enjoy a new challenge and I enjoy riding/running a new course.

In 2013 I raced 13 events - 7 of which I do most years and 4 that were new to me, and 2 that I have done at some point in the past. There were triathlons, running races from 5k to the marathon, and even an open water swim.  It was eclectic. It was enjoyable. Maybe I'll do a recap ... maybe not ... I don't know.

2014 is a much different beast. In 2013 I raced what I wanted without much thought about building a season to a pinnacle event. This year is much more focused. My habit of racing more will be put on hold with many more weeks of "just training." The races I have on the schedule have a purpose in the big picture. For 2014 is not just an Ironman focused year, 2014 is about TWO FULL Ironman races.

Ironman Coeur D'Alane, 2008

Such a big year is both exciting and a bit scary. Exciting because I have some big racing on the docket. Scary because I have some big racing on the schedule. The Full Ironman races will be #5 and #6 for me so the distance isn't my issue. My concerns come with keeping focused and healthy for the next 11 months. To stay healthy I need to listen to my body and not overdo it, which is easier said than done. In the past when I had a coach my problem had always been doing what was no the paper for that day/week. If I was sore or tired or a bit nicked up ... it was on the page so it had to get done. This is good, but can lead to really bad stuff - injury, overtraining, dead legs on race day. The problem was never Coach, it was always me.

Since I have been self-coached this problem hasn't been as much of a problem for a number of reasons. First, I have stopped thinking in week time periods and more in terms of the month. By extending my time frame I find I am better able to listen to the body and push a workout off if needed. The next thing I have done is be more out there with what I am doing on this blog. By putting things out there I force myself to stop listening to that little voice inside always telling me to just keep working harder, and listen to what is the more reasonable approach.

That said, the key phrase in that last paragraph is "hasn't been as much of a problem." I still find the voices in my head always wanting to do more, more, more with not though of what my legs feel like. It's a constant fight to stay on track.

Here's what I have planned for 2014:

January 25 - Fred Lebow Manhattan Half Marathon - This 2-loops around Central Park course is not about racing, but about getting a solid, early season 13.1 miles in on a hilly course. I've done this a number of times in the past as a way to get the legs moving a bit faster with no pressure of performing. This time around I have no goal other than enjoy the company of 10,000 other runners, see where my run fitness is, and a great post-run breakfast at the Country Griddle. In other words - a catered training run.

February 15 - Myrtle Beach Half-Marathon -  Heading down South for a long weekend to visit my parents and this race was conveniently happening during my visit. Many years ago I ran this marathon and decided it was way too early in the year to race a marathon. Might use this as a test of my fitness level.

May 17 - Jerseyman Tiathlon (Sprint Distance) - Tuneup race. Two years ago I raced here as a way to go through the motion of swim/bike/run in order to make whatever transition mistakes I had in me at a low-key event. Once again this will be a training race. Located in Clinton, NJ the race is close to home AND close to the Country Griddle (do you see a theme here?).

June 8 -Ironman Eagleman 70.3 - This race comes a few weeks before my early season "A" race and I plan on using it as a tuneup/test for IMCDA. The goal is to race the swim and bike at 1/2 Ironman pace and then run at Ironman pace. If I feel good on the run I'll pick up the pace. Right now, that's the plan. As a side note, why do we call these 70.3s now instead of Half Ironman?

June 29 - Ironman Coeur D'alane - First "A" race. Did this back in 2008 and we loved the venue. The town is great, the people friendly, and the race day temperature featured a high of 73 degrees. The course was to my liking with a hillier bike and mostly flat to rolling run. Right now I have an idea of what I want to do here, but my training will ultimately dictate what the goals are come race day.

August 11 - Steelman (Olympic Distance) - This is one I race every year with the same two goals. First, I want to finish in the top-10, which requires me to have a good day, but as an old man is a good challenge I have been mostly successful at in year's past. The other is to have a top-3 bike split, which I have accomplished once. Coming off IMCDA I should have plenty of fitness this year. (2013 Race Report)

August 31 - The Great Six Flags Triathlon (Tentative) -Did this race in 2013 and loved it (race report) ... with the sole exception being the 1/2 mile run from the swim to T1 (seriously, that's a long way to run with a wetsuit on). They moved the race from the 3rd Sunday in September up to the end of August. It fits, I just haven't made a decision on doing it or not. If I do race this, it will be right before I start gearing up for IMFL. I will be racing this all out, looking to make up for the tactical mistake I made on the bike in 2013.

September 14 - Rev3 Pocono Mountains 70.3 - WTC put this race on for two years before deciding it didn't fit with their agenda. Rev3 revitalized the race and moved it from early October to the second weekend in September. The weather should be pretty good and I hope to race well on a short taper as part of race prep for IMFL in November.

November 1 - Ironman Florida - Final race of the year and the second "A" race on my schedule. This will be an interesting challenge for me as I have never raced two full Ironman-distance races in the same year. I worry about two things - motivation to put the swim training in the Fall and being mentally prepared to race this distance so very late in the year.

So that's what my year is going to look like. I am looking forward to the challenge of not just racing two full Ironmans, but also staying fit, fresh and healthy.

Thanks for reading.

Train hard. Stay focused.
Jon