Do you remember your first time?

It was near the end of June 2009 that I was going to race in my first triathlon. I had went to sign up for a race in July, The Appleman, and found a few others that sounded like something I wanted to try. There was no rhyme or reason to what races I chose other than that they were all close to home. The next set of races that I signed up for were those that a friend was doing. At one point I had two races in one day with one in Salem Ma. and the other out in Greenfield. Maybe I could have used a little better planning and attention.

Up until the end of June 2009, I had been to spin class a number of times, I had swam in the pool for only 20 minute max. or a little over ½ a mile and I had run on a treadmill 3 miles a few times. I was convinced that my first race was something called a sprint that would be around a ½ mile swim, 13 mile bike and 3 mile run. It was not. A week before my first event, it dawned on me that I was racing in an Olympic length event and I started to worry a bit.

The days leading into the event I was taking Entrepreneurial Masters Program classes at MIT, a few of the guys in my class that week had done tri’s in the past and I got lots of info from all of them. None of which made much sense until after I had done a few races. Saturday night after our 4 day long session of time together we all went out on our last night to The Estate in downtown Boston dancing. I was out until around 2 am and had a race that was starting at 8 the next morning. I awoke around 6 to quickly get ready and be at the race around 7 am some 40 minutes away from my home. It was in the low 50’s and pouring rain out, and I was not sure what to expect.

I arrived on time in the parking lot and had no clue what to do, so I just followed what everyone else was doing. I got in line and got my race bag with numbers and stuff in it and went back to my car to get my bike ready. I really had to simply copy everything that the guy in the car next to was doing. Would have killed me to ask a few questions. Next I brought my bike over to the bike rack and transition area where I set it up just like I had learned to do on active.com as well as YouTube.

As race time was getting closer everyone else started putting their wetsuits on, I did not have one and I stated to panic a bit. Could I buy one, did someone have an extra? Could I rent one? There were none to be had and there I was alone in my speedo out in the pouring cold rain. Everyone started to walk away from the Transition area, so I put my dry clothes in my car and ran after them, wearing nothing but my Keen's a speedo and my pool goggles. Down to the lake was a ¼ mile walk down the hill and through the woods over some very rough terrain. There were 300 guys standing on the beach and three of us did not have wetsuits. I felt a sense of camaraderie with these two others that quickly went sour when I looked out at the lake to see where the buoys that we had to swim around were. Holy crap is a mile a long way. How was I going to be able to do this and how can I warm up quickly was all I could think about. The water temp was about 74 and that felt so warm and inviting, after getting in and swimming a bit I did not want to get out. I had to get out for a bit until my swim wave started. I was in the 40-45 year old wave, the second in the water the toughest group of all. These guys have been racing for years, they were all far more fit than me and I was now feeling like I was way in above my head. As the race was about to start for me, I got to the front and middle of my pack. All that I had read had said to stay in the back or off to the side. 100 or so yards into the swim I got swam over by one or two racers, I got kicked, I was out of breath as my body adjusted to the cold water and I would have jumped on an aide boat had there been one next to me. I stopped myself and let all the others swim by so I could get my bearings and senses back in order. I was determined to finish what I had started no matter what it took. I swam a bit, looked for the group and next buoy and kept going. Sometimes I was swimming freestyle and much of the time I was doing the breast stroke to save energy. I got passed by almost everyone, many of the waves behind me had passed me by but I just kept swimming after making the turn for home I knew I was going to finish and I was expecting huge cheers from the crowd for such an accomplishment. I am not sure what my swim time was but I was done and felt like I was totally beat and tired. I stumbled out of the water and found my Keen's to start my walk up to the transition area, how were all these others running at full speed up the hill, were did they get all that energy and endurance?

Once I got to my bike, I had got my breath back and was feeling a little bit better about what was in front of me. It was still raining but that didn’t matter. The first mile out of T1 was up a hill and took a lot out of me, I was thinking I was a strong rider and this was very humbling indeed. I managed my way around the 13 mile course and on the second lap my energy levels and confidence were getting stronger. I was not watching my heart rate, I was not watching my cadence, I was not watching my speed and I had no idea what it meant to watch my power. I just rode with all I had. As I passed what I believed to be another EO member I screamed EEEEOOOOOOO and kept riding feeling strong and secure. As I rolled down the hill into the dismount section I quickly realized I was in trouble as I hit the brakes only to realize I had not set them back on. I dropped my new shoes out of the peddles and came to a grinding sliding stop just passed the entry area and walked back to go over the timing mat. Getting of my brand new bike that was three weeks old and had only been ridden 2 or 3 times, I was shocked at how unstable my legs were. I had given it my all on my road bike and was very unstable on my feet. I got my running shoes on and everything else in order and had stopped long enough to catch my breath again. I didn’t even have it in me to be able to run all the way out of the T2 area before I found myself having to walk a bit. I had a mile straight up that same bike hill to go and that took me a good 20 minutes to do. I had been having knee issues that I now know to be IT Band issues and it was starting to contract and lock up, leaving me with just the ability to walk. I was going to finish this race even if I had too walk the remaining 5.5 miles. It was a long walk that had small bits on jogging in it some that lasted no longer than a few 100 yards. Every step I took while running was as painful as I had ever experienced, but there was almost no pain while walking. All I could think about the whole walk was the desire to run across the finish line. I walked back up to the top of that hill at the end and knew there was only a mile to go. A bit more walking and I would be in sight of those at the finish line. Kimberly was going to bring the kids and I had not seen them yet, I could not let the see me walking and I wanted to run so bad. I ran for a bot and it hurt quickly, I walked some more and the self talk just took over and was killing me. I had to dig deep and just look at the finish line that seemed so far away. All of a sudden I was running again and could feel nothing but truck loads of emotion, I was going to finish this race strong and run across that finish line. As I came to the line I saw my kids and wife, I crossed that line with a huge smile on my face and a lot of pain in my body. My wife was there and as I hugged her I just lost it and started to cry like a little baby, what an amazing experience, when can I do it again.

Tired, beaten down, sore and limping I was amazed to see others who had finished so calm and collected, some where getting on their bikes to ride home, others were playing Frisbee or just sitting around with family. I was just out of it and in another world and wanted a little bit of what they all seemed to have.

It was a few days until the IT band pain went away and at least a day until I was human and helpful around the house. With two young kids I am sure Kimberly was hoping I would have been a bit more helpful after the race and I was sure she was not going to be excited about the idea of another race.

Training has gotten better and race recovery has gotten better, but it has taken a lot of work and guidance from others that have been there before.

Never let the race day be the first time you have gone a new distance, always train longer and harder than you expect to go one race day.

Ask lots of question from those that have been there before, it is amazing how much info others with similar interests have to share and how exciting the sharing experience can be

Prepare your self for battle, with lots of rest and proper nutrition. These races take a lot out of you and simple things can make the race and after race experience much better.

Have fun.

Conquering the Ironman Longhorn 70.3

From the moment I arrived in Austin, I knew this was going to be an amazing experience. I met up with Mike Ferranti and James Fitzgerald at the airport and they all piled into my rental, along with my three bags of luggage and huge bike box.

When we got to the Driskill hotel there was just enough time to drop off our bags in the room and get right to a pre-race meeting where 30+ from Team Titans were in attendance. What a great group of people from all over the country. All of the details of this weekend were coordinated by Justin and Jason Abernathy of Sureclick.com

The principals from Boulder Coaching Simon Lessing and Darren de Reuck, were our guests and coaches for the weekend. Simon is a five-time world champion Triathlete and Darren is a former professional runner. Their thoughts, ideas and insights into all aspects of pre-race training over the past few months--whether it was nutrition on the course or just knowing what to expect--were so very helpful.

Friday night consisted of a quick, early dinner and getting to bed around 8:30pm for a great night’s sleep.

On Saturday morning we all met at 9am for a quick swim, run and bike along with some bonding, networking and great interaction at the race site. Then it was time to see what the water was like, check out the run course and check to make sure our Nikes were in top condition. We got our bikes set up in T1, dropped off our running gear in the T2, and then checked out the vendors inside the indoor stadium where we would finish the race.

I visited the Koalla Massage tent and got my IT band stretched out and taped for race day. A special tape from Kinesio Tex is designed to keep the IT from contracting and it worked long enough for me to be able to finish the race. That evening, another early dinner with 40 racers and over 100 family members and supporters at the Spaghetti Warehouse in downtown Austin. It was so great having so many wonderful supporters around the whole weekend. After dinner it was right to bed for me.

On Sunday morning I woke at 4am, had my three bottles of Ensure along with a bagel and a banana. By 6am we were loading the car for the quick drive over to the arena where we would board buses to take us to the lake. It’s very dark in Austin at 6am. Final set up for bikes took place in the dark with the help of major lighting. Around 7am, we were all led out of transition to the waterfront where we enjoyed seeing a parachuter waving a huge flag to the sound of the Star Spangled Banner.

At 7:30am, the first wave of pros took to the water and the race was under way. My wave was 15th and not for another hour and ten minutes, so I relaxed on the grass as the waves went off one by one every five minutes. Seeing the pros coming out of the water with such a fast swim time was inspiring and such a humbling experience. Here I am in the best shape I have ever been in my life and these people are just machines.

Race recap: My wave started around 8:35am and I was calm and relaxed after sitting on the grass enjoying the energy all around me for a while. The swim was not my personal best, but I knew I wanted to come out of the water strong and I just did not push it at any point of the 1.2 miles in front of me. I came out of the water 39 minutes later and felt like I was 100% physically. There were wetsuit strippers all around me waiting to help get our wetsuits off, and although I truly thought I was functioning at full capacity, I probably wasn’t, since I asked some random guy to strip me rather than one of the beautiful women ready to do so.

I ran into T1 with all the confidence in the world, my wet suit and accoutrements put away. I then put on my bike shoes, helmet, sunglasses and ran to the area where we could mount our bikes and start riding. I was 100 feet into the ride when I remembered to put on my race number and GPS device that were dangling from my bike by a thread. Off I went for 56 very comfortable miles. I felt strong on the ride and had a great nutrition plan that helped me execute very well. I had two bottles filled with Perperteum, at 900 calories in each, along with an extra bottle of water that I knew I would replace along the ride a few times. I could have used a bit more electrolytes so I’ll have to adjust for that next time.

At one hour into the ride, I had covered a little more than 20 miles. My goal was 18 mph and I had an average of 20.4 MPH for the entire ride. I came in with a bike time of 2:45 and knew I had time to spare on my run to make my goal of a six hour race. My legs felt great, and I only have to thank my bike fit guy for this, Jay Courant of 53 Eleven in Arlington, MA.

My first mile of the run was over in just 8 minutes and I felt great, except for having to go to the bathroom, which made me start to clinch. I found a restroom on the course around 1.7 miles, and I stopped there for about five minutes. My mom, who was watching this online, said later she was concerned that something had happened when I didn’t move for five minutes. She wondered, “Why isn’t he moving?” “Did he fall and hurt himself?” I was fine, but the time stopped made my legs and IT band start to tighten and it was a grueling run walk for the rest of the remaining 12 miles..

At the 5 or 6 mile mark, I thought there was no way in hell I was going to make my time of sub 6 and I started to get a bit discouraged, however, all along the race course there were Team Titans supporters, and I could see other Team Titan racers. So, I dug deep to find my happy spot and worked through the pain. A sign on the road even said, “Pain is the feeling of fear leaving the body.” If that’s so, a lot of fear must have been leaving my body at that point.

Around the 7 mile mark with five more to go, I had 55 minutes to make my sub 6 and I started to think it might happen. How bad was I going to feel if I came in just over 6 hours? That five minute crap was going to haunt me! I dug in like I had never before, took all the water and Gatorade I could, dunked my entire head into a huge barrel of ice water and did whatever I could to finish strong and beat my goal. My gratitude to the Abernathy Brothers who I passed with two miles to go who said, “Go for it!” Thanks to Simon for being there at the last set of hills reminding me to walk fast on the ups and run the flats and down hills. Thanks to the crowd of over 100 Team Titan supporters who flew in from all over the country who were in our tent seconds before the finish line. What an amazing experience running by that tent and hearing all that screaming and yelling—now that’s what I call support.

Making the final turn with the finish line 100 feet away, I thought, “I did it, I am a ½ Ironman and I can do anything I set my mind to.”

Finding Balance

How do you find time to do all of the things that you do? I’m talking about being around for your family, being a good husband, going to work, finding time for your hobbies and advancing yourself professionally? It’s definitely a tall order.

For a long time, I struggled with finding balance between my work and my personal life. I read a book called The Four Hour Work Week by Tim Ferris, and I also got a lot out of Cameron Herold’s painted picture philosophy, which basically requires you to “reverse engineer” your goals by first visualizing the end result, and then working backwards towards to achieve that goal.

But what really helped me the most in finding the right balance in my life was training. From first starting out to training for a sprint, an Olympic, two half Iron Man competitions, the Boston Marathon, and now Iron Man Lake Placid, I’ve learned how the discipline of training can help you prioritize your life, and eventually help you achieve a work/life balance that works for you.

The most important thing here is determining what’s important to you. No one can figure that out for you. So, take some time to consider your own personal “painted picture.” Where do you see yourself two or five years out? Then figure out what you need to do to get there.

Here’s an exercise to help you put it all in perspective: come up with a list of “non-negotiables.” These are the things that you are completely committed to in your life right now. I’d cap that list out at four or five items, but that’s really up to you and what your “personal bandwidth” is for commitment. Then come up with a list of priorities related to those non-negotiable commitments. By structuring your priorities within your commitments, you’ll get a clearer sense of what you have to do to make your dreams a reality and feel in control of your destiny.

Pedaling into the Unknown

In January 2009, I weighed 230lbs, wore a size 40 waist, and felt completely out of shape. I’d been on the diet roller coaster for a while, filled with its own unique blend of highs and lows: I’d start by going to the gym and eating healthfully, and then I’d get out of the groove and “forget” to work out. Take that cycle and repeat it a bunch of times, and you’ll understand what my life was like for a long time. Not good.

The actual task of working out was never a problem for me, though. I’ve used a personal trainer many times in the past and was fully versed in the “ways of the gym” (sounds all spiritual, but eh, not so much). If I felt heavy, I’d string a few weeks at the gym together and drop 10 pounds. Still, there wasn’t anything guiding my workouts or serving as a foundation for motivation. All I was doing was reacting to weight gain and putting a temporary fix on the situation.

During the fall of 2008, the same approach of reacting pervaded my work, too. I’d sit at the computer responding to every email as it came in, chasing every issue that needed attention in nanoseconds of it rearing its head, without waiting to see if it fixed itself. I guess I was like so many out there, doing what I liked to do, but not loving it. I wasn’t taking control of the situation at hand. Business in retail after October 2008 had started to fall apart, just like every other part of the economy, so I thought it was even more reasonable to stick by the phones and handle crap as it came in. I was once again reacting to everything instead of making things happen.

During all of this, I continued to go to the gym. One day, a trainer invited me to try a 6 am “spinning” or cycling class on a Monday morning. The following week, as I drove in the dark to the class, I truly thought I’d lost my mind. I wasn’t sure what to expect. As an entrepreneur, you often take risks that feel like a shot in the dark, you drive towards darkness in the figurative sense a lot of the time—so how was this any different? Well, for starters, it wasn’t totally about business this time—it was about me.

I walked into the room where the spinning class was going to take place. Bikes were lined up with towels hanging over the bars and I ambled over to one and set myself up on it as best as I could, without asking for help. I got a weird look from a very cute girl who got on the bike next to me, and was sure that this was going to be a long class. Later I realized that everyone set up their own bikes and towels before class and I’d taken the bike reserved for her boyfriend or husband. I’d already broken the rules!

Class started and I pedaled. And I pedaled some more. I felt my throat get dry, my lungs get heavy, and my brain went into survival mode. Brief questions crossed my mind as I battled every imaginary hill, and they went something like this: Why don’t I have any water? Why are all these people so much more fit than I am? Why am I the only one not pedaling right now? Even though I had all these questions, my brain was focused on the task at hand. All of the other mental clutter floated away. All I could do was pedal.

I made it through my first spinning class. Despite the fact that afterwards I found myself on the couch in my office wondering if I was going to die from exhaustion, I felt good. My head was clear. And I couldn’t wait to try it again.