I Do Stuff.

I've had a busy few weeks but I have been able to sneak in a couple of rides and runs here and there. With surprisingly good results, even.

First was the Royal Riders Century. This was a last minute entry to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute and Roy High Athletics. Two great causes, and I prefer to register for events that give back to something I believe in. And I believe in cancer research. You might say with my life. Quite amazingly, this was my first organized century ever. Normally it's just me out there with only me to talk to and my face in the wind for a hundred miles or so. But considering my condition this year, which is poor, I thought the distance would be a challenge and if I got into any trouble I could draft behind Mike. Mike has been training to ride RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) with the Air Force team, and his wife said he could have a new bike if he rolled 4k on his odometer this year. He's been riding like a fiend, devouring miles like a madman. Plus he was bringing along Angie, another first time century rider. I thought it would be a good ride to do. And I was right.

Long story short, it started out as the three of us with Mike and I trading pulls and keeping Angie out of the wind and on our wheels. As the miles wore on, our trio swelled as riders started to struggle with the distance and found the pedestrian 16 mph speed I pulled the group along at to be mostly accommodating to their sense of survival. Mike looked out for Angie and I sat on the front, where I like it. We shepherded riders along. They left aid stations when we did. Other riders came and went out the back. Michael nearly choked out a guy for trying to ride two up with him on a busy road, and I nearly choked the same guy out for riding in front of me like he was trying to take a pull and help out, but riding at 18 mph. A pace the majority in the group couldn't hold. WTF? I helped out a lady who had been dropped by her husband after his ego pulled them past us and then left her in no woman's land. He attacked something and left her in limbo, behind him and in front of me struggling to catch up. I bridged up and asked her if she just wanted to ride in the group. He finally faded and came back to us under the relentless pressure of the crushing 14.5 mph I was dragging the group at. Anyway, 6:15 later I was in and glad of it because my butt was starting to get sore. I guess that is how centuries unfold. You ride with your group and people come and go. People irritate you. I doubt this will be my last organized century.

Next was the Morgan Marathon. A new event, work was a sponsor and I won a comp entry. So, current fitness aside, I decided that since it was free, I was going to get my no-moneys worth and signed up for the full 26.2 marathon miles. I had two months to parlay marginal fitness into becoming marathon-worthy. With huge projects at work, a late spring that delayed everything and a week driving cross country, getting ready was a true challenge. Which I failed. However, I was buoyed by the confidence from the century bike ride. I knew that, at a reasonable pace, I would be okay and finish in maybe 4:30 without problems. I'd be fine.

I totally PR'd this run. That's right, personal record. Now I have only run a pair of marathons, but considering I ran the downhill Ogden Marathon in 3:53 and the ribbon candy-profile Morgan Marathon in 3:52, I am extremely pleased. And I did it with no blisters, lost toenails or gut wrenching stomach issues I am normally plagued with. Other than sore legs and feet I am none the worse for wear.

I doubt I'll ever run Ogden again, but Morgan probably. And I might even train the next time. But the problem with run training is that it isn't on a bike. And I miss biking, almost so much I could stop running and swimming, sell my road and cross bikes and just ride and race my mountain bike. I won't, but being a jack of all trades ain't easy and I'll take a PR anytime.

Rooting Away

I think a 9 month old mystery has finally been solved. That is, why I've been sick so much and why I've been tired more than usual.

I needed a root canal.

Sersly, I had a cavity fixed 9 months ago and it was a bad one. Painless (my dentist and all around good guy) told me I might have some trouble with it. Did I ever. Since it was repaired last fall, it remained sensitive. But all this time the nerves were festering and rotting inside my skull. I had headaches and, as you might recall, a load of sinus troubles last winter. I even started having pain in the maxillary temporal bone (whatever the hell it is) and shooting pains through my temple. A doctor even diagnosed me with TMJ (Temporomandibular Joint) disorder and have a load of muscle relaxers now.

All this came to a head (sic) over Memorial Day weekend (always over a holiday weekend!) when the tooth finally reared its ugly head and made it clear it was the problem, not the jaw or anything else.

And everyone was out of town. And out of cell phone range. I was screwed. But I had a fistfull of hydrocodone and an empty house.

I managed to score some antibiotics to start fighting the infection. Then I started running a fever, which gave me the chills and caused my teeth to chatter. Even THAT tooth. And it hurt. Not thinking, I thought it might be an allergy to the antibiotic and quit taking it. Turns out I was wrong again.

Anyhoo, two trips for root canal procedures later and I am feeling a lot better. But I am afraid I am not out of the woods yet. It seems there were some issues with one of the roots, and the tooth is more sensitive now than it was after the first procedure. But he also kicked my ass. I hope any new troubles will come up sooner than later. I don't want the next 9 to be like the last.

And remember kids, always practice good dental hygiene.

Canyonlands Half Marathon Race Report

I am so happy my first goal run of 2009 is behind me. But I would gladly do it again if I could have stayed in Moab for just a couple more days.

Wifey and I rolled into town last Friday and got settled into the Adobe Abode just on the outskirts of town. I can't tell you how great it is to have access to an actual home, and have friends that are so awesome to let us stay there. I've been to the Abode enough that, in addition to just being a great place to stay, I feel really comfortable there and already miss the quiet and solitude. Dinner at Eddie McStiff's was only adequate. But the beer was purty good so that made up for a weak meal. After dinner I donned my new trail runners - La Sportiva Crosslites - and went out for a short jaunt in the red dirt along a road that follows the base of the cliffs on the east side of town. My shins seemed to be okay, but did get a little sore. I wanted to get good and warmed up to allow a good stretch and ice session. A DVD brought the night to an early end.

Perhaps the best thing about the Canyonlands Half is the 10 o'clock start time. Conversly, the downer is the 8 o'clock bus pick-up. We had about an hour and a half to stand around freezing at the start. Sure, there was coffee and I always wear warm clothes, but then you have to strip down that last half hour. I'm here to tell you, being next to the Colorado River surrounded by towering canyon walls is as cold as it is beautiful. The sun sat tantalizingly close on the opposite side of the river, never quite making it to the runners until after the start.

We were well back in the throng of 5000 runners. About 4 minutes after the official start we finally crossed the timing mat. Not knowing how my body - specifically my shins - were going to hold up I ran with Wifey for the first couple of miles. The first mile is a fairly steep downhill and the shins were taking a beating. I was really dreading the rest of the race. But as the road leveled off, the pain went away and I decided to quicken my pace a little. I bid adieu to Wifey and took off. Soon enough the sun was in my face and things got really warm, really quick.

At first I sped up to about an 8:30 pace, but since I was feeling good, picked it up a little more. Then a little more. And still a little more until I was cruising at a 7:00-7:30 pace. I carried this speed until my average pace fell to about 9:00. I needed to average 9s to come in at my goal time of 2 hours. I found my rhythm was best at an 8:30 pace and pretty much put on the cruise control. I. Felt. Awesome. At least until I missed the second to last water station. There were no cups out and to stop at a water station means getting run the hell over by other runners. So coming out of the canyon I had a glob of not-digesting Power Gel and some dehydration going. That corresponded with a slight rise in the road and a headwind. It got hard for about 2 miles until the last water station where I was able to pound a couple of cups which made me feel immediately better. My chip time showed 1:53:11 and an average pace of 8:33. I ran hard only a couple of times and otherwise felt really good and ran within myself.

We spent Sunday with my in-laws, who braved the Apache Inn to come and watch the race. We went through Arches and did a couple of the arch hikes. It was good to loosen up a little before the drive back to reality.

Now it's time to take a little time off and let the shins heal. It's a good excuse to start biking more, anyway.

The Moab Half and an Apology...

The Moab Half Marathon is this weekend and I am really looking forward to getting into some warmer weather and enjoying my first longish run of the year.

You heard me. I am going to enjoy this run. No feeble PR attempts or banging myself into the ground. I am shooting for a reasonable 2 hour time, which is a 9:10/mile pace. That is going to be a big enough stretch this early in the year. It is going to be an exercise in restraint and test my maturity and ego, but I gotta do it.

Because I am hurt a little. I have a weird leg thing going with the inside of my right leg, where the calf muscle terminates. I am not sure if it's muscular or bonular or tendonular. It had been off and on for a couple of weeks, but since running last Sunday, it is so very much on all the time. Tender to the touch and generally bothersome.

But I am entered and so run I shall. I'll back it off (if backing off any more without stopping was possible) after and cycle more to ease off the pounding and see how it goes before heading to a doc.

And now, I would like to publicly apologize to generations of ladies whom I have generalized when it comes to shoe shopping. You see, I wanted to buy a new pair of trail runners. So I went to the running shoe store (Striders) and told them what I wanted.

Holy CRAP!

Within 5 minutes I had no fewer than 9 styles of shoes in 2-3 sizes each. I got confused and spent an hour and a half in there. Walking around and running on the treadmill. I finally settled on a New Balance because I was truly feeling stupid. I took them home and wore them around a little before deciding they were too big. So I took those back to find my size was gone. So I chose a La Sportiva Crosslite. Which is totally bad ASS. But I think they are too small. Plus, I can't put Speed Laces in them and they are a little tough to tighten up. Who cares? My bike to run transition cares.

So I may take them back and go with a Mizuno. Hopefully in the right size.

I don't remember being this wishy-washy in a long time. Especially not over something as simple as a pair of shoes. I guess it is more about the potential for the shoes to damage my feet with blisters that I worry about. Still...

I'll never make fun of women shoe shopping again.

Decisions...

As much as I despise making a payment to a cellular phone company, I really need a new phone. Of course when you get a new phone, they nail you with a multiple year contract to get said phone at a realistic price.

What's a guy to do?

As much as I despise the aforementioned phone and contracts, I've been thinking about one of those fancy-schmancy iphones, or the equivalent. Something that I can put reminders in and may actually benefit me by letting me know when something important is coming up. Like a birthday, sorry Dad!

The "big" news is that my epididymitis-ed testicle is approaching normal size and not nearly as tender as it was last week. It's back to being the leathery, tobaccey-chewin' nut of yore, always ready to lend a hand or shout an insult to someone that needs to be taken down a notch. Always writin' checks his nut-ass can't cash he is... Actually, after motorcycling in this morning, there was a little discomfort so I thought I'd give running a couple more days.

I've been doing some open water swimming lately. It's been going well. I got in a little more than a mile last Friday. I need some rest breaks and am not breaking any records, but I feel pretty good. I hit the pool this morning and ripped off a 1000 yard set with no problems. Funny thing is, as I type this and think about swimming, I am more comfortable when I am in the water than when I think about it.

That is an insight into my head. I'm a bit strange.

The decision I have to make this week is about my nemesis, XTERRA. I have to register by Sunday night. If I race I'll be doing the short course because I really haven't been "training." That's a mere 750 meters in the lake. I know I can do it because I've been doing it. But that first five minutes in the water gets me every time. I'm not scared so much of the water right now, I'm scared of failing another swim.

Ahhhhh... decisions.

What Next?

This is turning out to be a banner summer for physical issues, folks.

I have swimmer's ear in my left ear. This is bad. There are few things worse than swimmer's ear. I am fighting it but don't feel like I am winning. Aside from the pain and discomfort, it messes with my swimming.

Riding yesterday, I was halfway through a 5x5 strength interval when I had a wasp enter a vent in my helmet. I stuck my finger in the vent and grabbed it before it could sting my head, but it got my birdie finger.

There is a cloud of obsenity over east Layton and the Great Salt Lake still. And I'm sure that somewhere a baby cried.

My finger is still fat.

At least it doesn't affect my swimming.

XTERRA is coming fast. I still haven't decided to register or not. I know I should, and try and kick that swim demon I have. Still, I need to make sure I avoid failure this time.

Ear be damned. I need to get into the lake this weekend. VanGogh painted with one, I can swim with an ouchie in one.

Bugs

Somebody decided it was time to turn nature's thermostat up.

It's hot here in Northern Utah. With the heat come the bugs. I have a mild allergy to mosquitos, meaning if one nails me I don't just get a little bump, instead I get a large welt and do my best to not itch until I bleed.

My lawn also appears to have an allergy to bugs. Specifically the eat the grass at the dirt line bugs. It looks like hell! I thought the grass was just in shock from the sudden heat, but turns out I was just in denial (the mindset, not the river) and the grubs made a snack of it. My neighbors hate me. Probably for reasons other than the lawn though.

My final buggy battle is with illness. That's right, the Duckboy household is sick. Wifey and Smarty Pants have been battling the snotty hacks for the last two weeks. Smarty seems to be kicking it finally, while wifey is still hanging on to hers. I think secretly she enjoys waking me up at night with her booming cough, which is why I sneak down to the couch.

But now I have it, too.

You would think that being a little bit healthier than the average mouth-breather that I could avoid most of these illnesses. Nope. It's worse actually for healthy people. Most people get sick like this:

1) Wake up one morning and feel like shit.
2) Feel terrible for a few days.
3) Get better. Total sick time: about 10 days.

This is how I get sick:

1) Feel great, but...
2) Feel a little off the next couple of days.
3) Feel a little more off for a couple more days.
4) Fianlly realize something is wrong. Hope it doesn't take. Feel like this for a couple of days.
5) Get frigging way-layed with disease. My immune system was nothing more than a little Alamo fighting a losing battle. Coincidentally, it takes about the same amount of time for my immune system to fall as the Alamo.
6) Disease COMPLETELY takes over for two more weeks. Raids the fridge, grabs Wifey's butt, drinks beer all day and lays around.
7) Disease finally drinks all the beer in the house, gets bored, pukes on the floor and leaves.
8) Rebuild immune system.
9) Slow and arduous recovery.
10) Get better. Total sick days: 25 - 30

We are off to Bear Lake for some recreatin'. I'll be leaving the bikes home and taking my wetsuit (low 60s water temps - brrrr) to see how bad I can scare the jeebers out of myself in the water, last year I did a pretty bangin' job of it. I'll toss in the running shoes also. And the golf clubs. Should be fun for all involved. I can't wait to get Smarty into the pool again.

Have a great 4th holiday. Try not to burn or blow your faces or appendages off.

Moving Forward-ish

I feel like I've reached a milestone as of late. I am finally moving one step forward and only one step back, instead of the normal two steps back.

This, dear friends, is a good thing.

Other than some dry spots in the yard caused by the sudden INSANE temperature increase the last two weeks the lawn looks great. The garden is coming along and within a couple of weeks I'll be moving door to door begging neighbors to take vegetables and trying to convince children that if they shove a stick into a banana squash and put it into the freezer that it will, in fact taste like a banana popsicle. Even the marigolds and sunflowers are finally going to bloom. However, the Chinese lanterns and English daisys are MIA. They may have started and been pulled by Wifey or myself during a weeding frenzy.

Smarty Pant's bedroom is nearly completed after 3 coats and 2 colors of paint. Only chair rail remains and for that I have my trusty miter saw that makes an incompetent assclown like me look like I know what I'm doing. That said, I should have used it the other night when I put the ceiling fan in Smarty's room.

Naturally, the light outlet in the ceiling was not reinforced for a fan which left me with 2 options: buy an expandable support that installs through the hole in the ceiling; or go into the attic and install a 2x4 between the ceiling joists. Now, I've gone both routes and much prefer climbing into the 150-degree hell of the blown insulation of the attic then try and put in one of those godforsaken supports. So I put on a mask (safety first!) and into the attic I go. And it. Is. Frigging. HOT! I dig through the insulation and find the spot, measure 22" between the joists and head down to cut the 2x4. Measure twice, cut once, and back into the attic.

And the board that I just cut and measured at 22" will not fit. The board is 1/4" too long. Yet both the board and the space measure 22".

?

Back down the ladder and out to the garage, cut the board to 21-7/8". Back into the attic, drop the board in and it is now 1/8" too narrow.

?

These are how my attempts at carpentry go.

Anyhoo, I tow the board in with three screws and the fourth hangs up and bends. I fight to get it back out and head back to get another. And let me tell you, it is hot and I am sweating and just frigging miserable at this point. I start carefully lowering myself down through the attic entry and I touch my knee on the edge. The part of my knee where I have a large scab from last week's low side on the bike. And off comes the scab. And out comes the blood. And the expletives.

That, my friends, hurt and bled more than the original injury.

But I got a ceiling fan put up. And Smarty's room is much cooler now, and one step closer to being finished so I can move to the next project.

But I'm one step back again. I need to let the scab heal a little before heading to the pool. But not to go for a ride tonight in near 100-degree heat. I hope I don't dry up like the lawn.

Kung Fu Da Da

Last night I did something I didn't think I'd do for several more years, I took Smarty Pants to a movie. Aside from the staggering cost for two tickets to Kung Fu Panda, I didn't take a beating until the last 30 minutes of the film. That's when Smartie's attention span went out back for a smoke. She sat in my lap and proceeded to Kung Fu my patience for the rest of the movie. But it was fun and something we'll do again in about 1-2 years.

I felt almost like a cyclist again last week, which is why I haven't had a post. I rode Thursday, Friday and Sunday. Of course, that was last week and I'm back to wishing. I haven't been in the pool for a week because of a little crash Friday.

My friend Tie-Phil put on an Alley Cat Race Friday night. If you don't know, an Alley Cat is a point to point, scavenger hunt race through the city. Our city being Ogden. While I would love to regale you with lurid tales of out sprinting fellow racers, I won't because I can't. Though I finished 6th, I took yet another DNF as I forgot my Burger King crown.

I don't even know where a Burger King is. I haven't eaten at a Burger King in possibly years.

I could have followed some other guys, but after downing a surprise bloody mary at stop three, playing skeeball, and airing down my front tire only to get a whopping 25 psi back in, I forgot about the King.

Speaking of the tire, it made me crash. Well, the homeless guy who parked his goddamn bike across the river parkway didn't help either. I'm flying along and see the dude with his four teeth and instead of going across the path, he stops. Right. In. The. Center. Of the path.

I hit the brakes on the new Trek XO cross bike, the front tire slams through what little air I was able to get back into it from the shitty pump I used and hits the pavement. The bike gets all squirrelly and I have to lock up the back to keep from knocking out homeless dude.

I pick myself back up and he says something to the effect of "Good thing I wasn't a car." Yep, good thing, because a car would have just driven the hell by, not requiring any sort of attempted stoppage on my part.

My race, and my knee, were done after that. Except for the double barrel whiskey shots at the next stop anyway. Amazingly, no major damage to the bike, just some grindage on the shifter and brake lever, and I need to rewrap the bars. The knee however, had some road rash which is just starting to heal. But has kept me out of the pool.

I don't want my scabs sloughing off onto the guy in the next lane. Ewwww.

I started another two wheel project. Not a motorcycle this time, but a '55 Schwinn Corvette. It looks like hell, well, heck. I'm not sure where to go with it though. I can't afford to spend $500 on a $250 bike, so I'm debating powder coating it, having a cheap paint job applied, or borrowing a gun and trying to paint it myself. Should I buy reproduction decals or have it custom pinstriped? I go back and forth. I just want a fun bike to kick around on with Wifey and Smarty Pants. Got suggestions? Leave 'em in the comments.

duh, duh, duh duh duh...

I FINALLY made it to the pool this morning. And it was sad.

I've maybe been in the pool 5-6 times since September with the move and my sheer lack of motivation, and after the first length I knew I'd lost any and all swimming form and skill I've ever had. Well, not exactly as I've really only been able to swim for the past year of my life and was able to get across the pool okay. I ended up doing 50m in about 1:10 with a 30 second rest, hoping to remember some skills in the water.

It was one of those days that made me glad I was in the water. Because it hides my tears. I have a long way to go.

My knees are still bothering me after the marathon a little. Maybe a few more long runs will be in order before the next one to get my body used to the distance. Yes, I said next one. There might be another marathon in my future, oh yes. And it might be part of an Ironman.

While not an official declaration of insanity, I'll just say that I really want to do an iron-distance event in the next couple of years. That was part of the reason for running the marathon, to see what it was going to take to get 26.2 miles done. The 112 miles on the bike, well, I've done that and more lots of times in either distance or time.

Of course, there's that little 2.4 mile swim at the start of the race. Which is where my Ironman dreams have a burlap sack thrown over them and get beaten with a rubber hose. Think splashing and flailing but not really going anywhere fast and that's me, Mr. No Skills.

And I'm afraid of drowning. And deep water, like over my waist deep. And I get claustrophobic.

I've started two triathlons and not finished a swim. The anxiety kills me and I end up doing a half-assed backstroke. Or, in the case of the second tri, I made it halfway to the first buoy and turned around.

Maybe I watched Jaws too many times as a kid. And I remember nearly drowning a couple of times in pools. I really shouldn't let something as trivial as death get in the way of doing something I've always wanted to do. But the mind is jacked up. Even with a wetsuit on, basically a frigging life jacket suit, I lose my cool and can't keep my face in the water. Which is made worse because I'm not cool at all really and hate to lose the little bit I have.

After taking last week off from running to give my knees a break, I think I'll start up again today. It's a good excuse to take a long lunch.

An itch in time

Watching the weather this morning shows high temps in the 70s-80s for the next week. Perhaps spring has finally made it to Utah? In June, no less. Not really a big deal to most people, or the incredibly motivated, but for me poor weather presents some issues. Notably I don't like being cold. Or wet. Therefore being cold and wet together are right out. And that's been "spring" in Utah this year, mostly cold and wet. And why I barely planted my garden last weekend. Which means I'll be dining on fresh beans and radishes in oh, September. Just about the time my sunflowers bloom.

With spring here I am hoping to get more AM rides and trail runs in. Or maybe get to the pool. Not that cold matters when the pool is indoors, it is a question of motivation. Speaking of AM workouts, I have a question I need to throw out: I get itchy when I work out in the morning.

Really itchy. All over, Really really itchy. And it drives me nucking futs. I carry a Nathan Hydration belt, not to drink the water but to dump it on me to alleviate the itch. It lasts for about 20 minutes and blessedly goes away.

Does anyone else out there have this problem? Is there a cure? It think it could be dehydration after not drinking for 8 or so hours while asleep, or dry skin caused by my refusal to use moisturizers. But because it is mostly my arms and legs it's hell trying to run and itch at the same time. Or ride and itch. I've even been doing laps in the pool and had to scratch.

This is going to be a busy weekend. I'm hoping to paint Smarty Pant's bedroom and finally get my garage organized. I'm nothing without my garage, which is a far cry from the garage in the last house. All finished, painted floor, wider, deeper. I had room for everything. Not so much anymore.

But I will get a ride in.

Fall Out

Last night I lost my first toenail. This, of course, is a result of the Ogden Marathon. Now, it's a small price to pay for meeting my goals of finishing and going sub-4 but I gotta say it feels weird not having a nail. Wearing a sock is driving me crazy. Walking is painless, just creepy.

I meant to get into the pool this morning but didn't quite make it. I set the alarm for 5, but unconsciously beat the alarm for nearly an hour and barely managed a 6 wake-up. I'm bad. This time of year is the worst when it comes to waking up, the air is cool and the bed is warm.

I have not been in the pool since March and since my skills and confidence in the water are deplorable, so I'm really reconsidering my triathlon goals for the year. I promise a "race" schedule this week, once I decide how much time I'm really willing to put in this year. I need to have some goals or nothing will get done, except the ever growing honey-do list.

As for recent activity, Sunday was a great day and I got out for 50 miles on the road bike with Katie and Damy (married couple Dave and Amy). I had a mountain bike ride planned for Monday morning but would have needed an Ark to find a trail. Just a little run yesterday at lunch which confirmed what I knew: my knees still hurt. I'll be taking it easy for a while, at least until I figure out where I am taking this summer.

Smarty Pants is putting more miles on her bike lately than I am. She does great for only being 2.5. She rides up and down the sidewalk with her pink helmet, jumping off to look at bugs. Jumping off is much easier now that she uses the coaster brakes instead of literally jumping off the bike while it's moving.

I'll see if I can get some video up for all to see.