Kona 2010. It is a wrap!

Hey Jonser! How do you feel? “Like a bag of crap sandwiches, you?!”

Kona 2010 is in the books. The men’s professional race was spectacular and Mirinda Carfrae’s performance in the woman’s field was inspiring and fun to watch. I cannot wait to watch the NBC coverage this December. I am sure it will be riveting.

Teresa’s performance was terrific and I am so happy for her. I think this was her 5th 2nd place age group finish. She went as fast as she could all day and finished behind an extremely impressive performance by Ellen Hart of Denver, CO.

The morning got off to kind of a funny start. I woke up at 3am and waddled out to lay down on the living room couch in our condo. I sat there and listened to the coffee maker hiss as it brewed my favorite coffee. My coach, Kristian, wandered out and sat down at the table and we talked about nothing in particular. We then could hear the water hitting the leaves outside the back porch. My whole body just went limp. Rain. No way. How could it be rain? I hate rain. Fourteen years in Seattle and thousands of miles running and riding in the stuff. I hate it. There are only three things I hate on this planet- beets, sauerkraut, and the bloody rain. Kristian could tell I was really letting it bother me. I had just suffered in the rain in Ironman Canada. I was wondering how I was going to do it again. I got a little negative and chippy for a few minutes (understatement of the month). I went into the bedroom after my cup of coffee to put on my timing chip, swim trunks, etc. I noticed that I could no longer hear the rain out the open window in the bedroom. Maybe it has stopped! I looked out and the road wasn’t wet. How could that be? I quickly jumped out the front door to take a quick look. The road was dry as a bone and I could see stars. What is going on? I couldn’t get my brain around what was happening. I am not known to peel the onion very quickly before a couple cups of joe in the AM. I wandered back out to the back porch and then I figured it out. Sprinklers. The bloody sprinklers were on in the back area of our condos and that is why it was all wet back there. What a dip I can be. I had gotten myself all upset about nothing. Life is harder when you are stupid!

So now that I had climbed back in off the ledge over the “rain” issue, we got ready and Kristian drove us to the swim start and we made our way to body marking. It amazes me how slick the organizers of the Hawaii Ironman have every evolution of this race. There were 1,750 of us athletes and not once all week did I stand in a line. I have to believe the volunteer to athlete ratio is better than one to one. It is one of the really awesome things about this race. You are given the rock star treatment the whole way. It makes the whole experience even that much nicer. After body marking we made our way to our bikes and got everything squared away. We were ready to race about 15 minutes after we arrived at the race, so we proceeded to our friends Robbie and Susie’s hotel room right behind the pier and lay down on their bed and waited for the time to pass. It was a luxury to be able to use a real bathroom and chill before the day began.

It all happened pretty quickly after that. The cannon went off and let the aqua combat begin. I have written in other blogs about the swim here in Kona. It was equally as terrible this year. A critic would probably ask why they don’t widen the start line so we aren’t all forced on top of each other. It is going to take someone getting seriously hurt before they change it and I know it makes for great television to see all the amateurs thrashing the life out of each other for an hour or so. I won’t complain about it. There is a way for me to avoid this contact; and that is to just swim faster. The boys who go 55-56 minutes aren’t getting their goggles resealed by other swimmers feet and elbows. That is a slower swimmer’s problem. So that will be my answer to the beating I take every year. I am just going to get faster.

So coming out of the water I had one of the best volunteers ever in the T1 tent. I had just swum in a Speedo, so I had to don both bike shorts and a tri top and get all my gear to launch on the bike ride. That volunteer had me suited up and on my way in about 20 seconds. It helps so much to have someone dedicated totally to you in the tent. Again, the volunteers here are sent directly from heaven. The bike got off to an uneventful start and I was down the road in no time. I don’t have much to say about the bike ride. The winds were mild with the exception of coming back from Hawi when they got down right sporty and some folks got hurt when they touched the floor after being blown off their bikes by the gusts.  For the most part, one of the more mild wind days I have experienced there. I rode solid, but in the last two hours when it was time to start putting in the bigger watts, I was not able to summon the power required to get on with the bigger boys who were starting to reel me in. I was left to just pedal home on my own and I could feel the race going on without me. It was quite disheartening, to be honest. I had hoped to do big things on the bike and set myself up to run tough and into contention with the studs in my age group. I was unable to do that. No excuses, I just wasn’t able to make it happen regardless of how much I wanted it to happen.  Someone said to me after the race that if I were to have ridden my normal ride I would have gone in the low 9:30's.  Well, by that logic, if my sister had testes she would be my brother!  I don't do if's.

As I pedaled into town I promised myself that I wasn’t going to spend the next three and a half hours running the race pissed off at myself and worrying about whatever I had done wrong. I have never said hello back to everyone who cheered for me on the course. I typically just wave a hand at them and keep staring straight ahead. I wasn’t really racing for anything at that point and I just wanted to represent the navy well, as I had NAVY written all over my race kit. I am glad I did that. I enjoyed the run much more than I ever have. I ran as hard as I could and never gave up on the race. I kissed one of the Aussie volunteers, Bev, going into the bike/run transition. Bev is always there on the pier during race week making sure the athletes don’t need anything and she has been there for years. T introduced me to her last year and she and I have a short conversation everyday during the week of Ironman. Seeing her there and taking the time to give her a kiss was a perfect way to switch off the bike and turn on the run. Nice people give me energy and Bev certainly did for me. I moved quickly into T2 and sat down next to my buddy Scott Davis. We traded some perspectives on how the day was going and then boom, I was running the run in Ironman. I didn’t feel good, but my legs felt strong. I got a few miles up the road and my coach, Kristian, was looking at me in a sort of disappointed way. Hey, what can a guy do but his best? That was what I was doing. I stopped, shook his hand, and asked him how his day was going. He seemed perturbed that I had stopped running. I just wanted to take the opportunity to thank him for looking after my training this last year. He is a wonderful coach- for a midget.

At mile three, the Air Force athlete Scott “Kidd” Poteet pulled up next to me. We ran a few miles together. We moved right along at a 7:10-7:20ish pace and chatted, talked shit about the Army and general observations on the day. Kidd is a wonderful dude. He just finished a tour flying as the slot pilot (#4) for the Thunderbirds and is on his way to command an aggressor squadron later in the year. How he gets the time to also be a world class ironman is beyond me. There are just some superb human beings on this planet that are good at everything. Kidd is one of those guys. I still like to send as much abuse his way as I can muster. After he had dropped me and gotten up the road about 100 meters in front of me, some of the folks on the side of the road would shout “go Navy! The Air Force is only 100 meters in front of you!” I would shout back that he was my retarded younger brother in the Air Force and that I was proud of him EVEN with his disability. It was good for some laughs and that is good for morale, mostly mine, on a hard and tough run. That is pretty much how the run went. Solid, strong running with a tired, old body. Mentally I was in a good place, I was just tired and suffering a touch. Coming back down Alii before the run up Palani and out onto the Queen K, Teresa’s immigration attorney and one of our dear friends, Linda, asked me how I felt. “Like a bag of crap sandwiches, you?!” She thought that was pretty descriptive and for me, quite accurate. The run turned out to be a good news story. I was able to get out and back, ran with confidence the whole way; and ran the Hawaii Ironman marathon 6 minutes faster than I ever have in my life. Total time on the day was 9:46:00, my second fastest time ever here in the lava.

One of my early mentors and someone I continue to admire is a former pro triathlete by the name of Tom Price. Tom is a two time champion of Ironman Canada. The day before my first Ironman, Tom gave me some of the best advice I have ever received in this sport. Tom wished me luck on my race and as I was walking out of his bike shop he told me that no matter what time I run in my ironman, not to kill my friends' buzz with the five reasons why I didn’t have my optimum race. He said, and rightly so, that 90 percent of our friends and family don’t know the difference between an 8:30 ironman and a 12:30 ironman, so don’t torture everyone with all the reasons you didn’t go faster. Wear your performance and your finishing time like a Gold medal, regardless of what that time is. Your family just wants you to be happy with your effort. Why would you steal that joy from them by going obsessive compulsive and killing their joy with your woes over your race?! My son offered me his observation after his second or third time watching an ironman. He shared with me this, “Pop, the thing I like about Ironman is that it isn’t like the short races you do, where it is all about a podium or no podium. Here at Ironman, if you finish in less than 17 hours you are in the club!” How true is that, eh?

So my result last Saturday? Gold medal. I’m about results, not excuses. If there are things I need to fix for next year, you can bet I have written them down and they will get fixed. I am so happy I raced this race this year. I learned a lot about a lot. I plan to expound upon some of those lessons this winter in a few blogs.

I just have to add one more thing about Teresa and this race. When I am out there racing, I think about Teresa constantly. I wondered if the swim was as tough for her as it was for me. I worried that maybe the stout winds up at Hawi got her, I wondered if she is running ok and if the neuroma in her foot was killing her, and then there she was!  She was running straight at me on Alii while I was going the other way. It is one of the most amazing feelings in the world to see your wife running strong with a smile getting it done down the road after you have been worrying about her all day. The intensity of that feeling might not make it through these words to the reader, but there are few emotions as strong as seeing the one you love, your partner and best friend, barreling down Alii-the most famous road in triathlon next to the Queen K!  I was so relieved and happy to see she was having a good day.  I am so proud of her and her race. The perfect ending to that piece of the day was to be able to stand there at the finish line and catch her as she came across the finish line. It was absolutely one of the highlights of my triathlon career. It is experiences like these that made this year’s race so rich and full. I will always look back at the 2010 Kona race with this as easily one of my favorite races. Like I always say…just a little piece of heaven!

So now we are flying home to get on with what the autumn and winter have in store for us. For me, it will involve a lot of flying and work. For T, it will be the same with work. We both look forward to healing up and figuring out what we can do better next year. We hope some of you will be able to come out and train with us and tap into the Jonser/Teresa training machine. We plan on hitting it proper all year!

Train with joy or not at all!

Thanks for reading.

Jonser

Race day is upon us!

Well, here it is. The bikes are checked in. All the workouts are over. There is nothing left on the calendar in 2010 except to get out there and race. It should be exciting stuff. The town has absolutely been abuzz since Monday. I don’t remember it being this crazy all throughout Kailua, but I am sure it is just my lack of attention, not necessarily anything different than the normal Kona craziness. This race is so much more than just a race to me. It is more a celebration of a lifestyle and a personal statement to me of hard work, discipline, successful time management along with the overarching thought that dreams really can come true.

Even before I ever got into triathlon, I have dreamt of this race. When I was a teenager, the Hawaii Ironman was telecast on the old ABC Wide World of Sports. I used to watch it and wonder how a guy like Dave Scott could do what he does. I still find myself not believing that I am actually someone who gets to compete in the Hawaii Ironman. I know a lot of dudes who log their one Ironman and continue on other pursuits on their bucket list. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but that is not me. This is my destination. I don’t need to climb any mountains. I don’t need to jump out of any airplanes. I am where I am supposed to be. I want to race Ironman’s, fly airplanes, coach and write- period. I am in my wheelhouse. This is my happy place. I have to admit it feels great to finally know that. I wandered around looking for my raison’d’etre for a long time and it is such a calming feeling to know I am finally on my path. It is better late than never, eh?

This year was different from the point that this is the first year on the Navy team (my fourth in Kona as a navy athlete, with one year as the alternate) that we have had press coverage of the competing athletes. The special interest stories you see on the NBC broadcast are folks featured due to the Navy.com sponsorship of years past. We have the Armed Forces Network (actually the name changed, but I can’t remember what it is) interviewing us and filming us. While fun, and from a vain standpoint, flattering, I can’t help but feel a bit unworthy. When I think of navy stories, especially in our sport, I think the press has done a great job of picking up on some of the amazing individuals we have in our service. Last year’s special by NBC on CAPT Dave Haas was especially great in my eyes. He was the Commanding Officer of the ship who you saw riding his Computrainer on the bridge of the ship while underway, rowing and running on the treadmill all while being at sea. Those are the kind of stories that grab me. Right now there are thousands of sailors either in Iraq, Afghanistan or the Horn of Africa and some in places you would not even believe have sailors there, in harm’s way, doing our nation’s bidding. My story isn’t that interesting, but hell, if you are going to put a mike in front of my gob and ask me questions about the navy, I will take up all the battery life you have in your recorder telling the navy story and that of the military professional. Military service is a calling beyond self, and at most levels, three atmospheres above politics. I don’t mean to lose anybody in my strong feelings for my military buds, I am not one who wraps himself in the flag, or any particular cause or camp, but I am huge on the navy, it’s how I roll. You cut me…I bleed blue and gold. So as this is very likely my last All-Navy Team, I am more than enthusiastic in telling that story. It is much richer and deeper than my own story and it is an honor to tell it-especially in this venue. Ironman is exactly like military service; at some point in the race, things get extremely difficult. When it does, there is only one thing for you to do, harden up and press forward.

Triathlon.com online recently posted the age group picks for tomorrow. Teresa was named by them to win her age group. I agree with them. It is so good to see her racing well again. She is like everyone else in that she struggles from time to time to get in her training. She gets tired, burned out, and frustrated, just like the rest of us. The difference is she never quits. Never. She never throws in the towel and never lets up. She has that champion vibe. I am not embellishing. I can feel it when she has it; she has it in spades now. If I were a 50-54 year old woman, I would go like hell and hope T runs out of real estate, because T is going to hammer all the way to the finish line. I am hoping for great things for her tomorrow. She is feeling great and I can tell when she gets irritable she is getting her fangs sharp for a hard day’s work. Based on that metric, she is more than ready!

So the 45-49 year age group males? I really don’t know. On paper there are at least 15 dudes here who can clean my clock. I am looking forward to racing hard tomorrow and seeing where I stack up. I am still a relatively young athlete with only 8 years in the sport, so I plan on continuing to get better. I honestly can’t wait for the gun to go off tomorrow and see where I am at the end of the day. I learned in Canada that quitting is just not an option for me, so I plan on either going faster than I ever have, or damn near dying in the pursuit of that goal. One of the first” hello’s” that sunk in with me when I moved to Boulder, was realizing how good I am not. When I was training in a small venue like the eastside of Seattle, I thought I was one of the better ironman dudes in the area. When I did swim in a masters club or dropped into someone else’s gym, I would always be one of the faster swimmers in the pool and could ride with anyone in town. That is not the case in Boulder. I am lucky to only swim 3 lanes down from the fast lane, and I am swimming my ass off to be in that lane! The talent there is just sick. The benefit of that is you quickly realize that you are not zip codes, but states, from being the best one of the best in the world. This realization keeps me humble and grounded in the fact that I am not anything more than a very solid age group athlete with a huge passion for the sport and the people in it. I am more than good with that realization.

Well, tomorrow the Super Bowl of our sport will kick off at 6:30am. I am so stoked to be there and in the middle of the whole thing! What other sport allows amateur middle-aged dudes like me to throw the football around with the Joe Montana’s and Tony Romo’s of our sport? You are correct-none. I think that is beyond cool.

So tomorrow I am going to swim for all I am worth, ride smart and tough, and God willing, run strong and with courage on the back half. If I do those things, this race will be a huge success! Nobody is as curious as me to see if that happens.

Thanks for reading!

Cheers,

Jonser

Lets see that smile and that ego, because both will be gone on Saturday! - Kaye Hert, official IMJ photographer and cheerleader.

I am sitting here next to the Sweet Pea tapping away on the laptop with all of beautiful Kona outside waiting. That is the thing with race week and powering down to be ready on race day. I would love to just be out ripping it up every day and I can see that there are a few who are doing that, but the pre-race taper calls for the laying low the closer we get to the race.


The weekend here in Kona was just prime. Saturday we rode with the boys, and Sunday T and I ran out to the energy lab and back. The Saturday ride consisted of Hamster, Josh, Ross, T, Paul and me. We rode 3 hours and change, and it was very enjoyable. The rain christened our arrival back into Kailua on the return, but as all things in Kona go, even that was wonderful.

Having six of our athletes here is an absolute gas. We roll out as a tribe everyday and the energy is better than fantastic. I will give you a quick rundown of the boys…and of course, Rosie.

I have written plenty about my bud Paul. Paul qualified at Brazil by going 9:40 and placing third behind two legit big boys in this sport. Paul had a brilliant effort there and save the broken wrist in August is locked and loaded. I expect big things from him here in the lava this year.

Ross Hillesheim has only been with us for a few months. As a long time friend of one of my navy buddies, Ross contacted us out of the blue and was at our July camp. Ross got a lottery slot to Kona and is fairly new to the sport. Ross is a friendly, warm and fun 28 year old guy from Carmel, California. Ross works in his family business and was clearly raised right. T and I have taken to him straight away and we love having him around. It is fun to see Kona through his eyes this year and appreciate things we have taken for granted because they are new to Ross. Ross is a very gifted triathlete. I love coaching him and he will be a regular here at this race very soon. He is as pure an endurance athlete as I have met. I look forward to watching him progress over the years.

Josh Vincent has been part of IMJ Coaching for a few years. Josh came to me broken and over trained and we have struggled with his injuries for awhile, but is finally healthy and it is showing in his racing. Josh blasted out a 10:19 on a brutal day in Louisville and rightfully earned his slot to come to Kona this year. It is a very short turnaround from Louisville, but I would not be surprised to see this young South African bust out a great one. Josh lives in the city in San Francisco and is a technology guy. He is also the designer of our logo and is a classic renaissance guy. He, too, was at our July camp and is a phenomenal swimmer and strong both on the bike and run. This will not be his last visit to the lava.

I wrote about Hunter “Hamster” Hobson last year in my Kona blog. Hamster is back as the Marine Corps athlete. Hamster just belted out a 10:21 in Canada and is determined to do the same or better here. Hamster is not just an IMJ athlete; he is quickly becoming a very dear friend to T and me. His wife Margy, along with Hamster, were with us in St. Croix in the spring. It is the friendships that you build up in this sport as you march along on your journey that really become the real treat in this sport. Hamster is back for his second Hawaii Ironman. Having last year’s experience under his belt will be huge for him as we go at it Saturday morning.

Lee Boyer is a friend and navy teammate. Lee is the Executive Officer of a Navy squadron in Florida. Lee is primed to bust out a huge effort here in his first trip to Kona. I have seen Lee power through to some impressive race results and I don’t expect anything different here on the 9th. Lee has no weaknesses. He is a legit Kona player and his fast swim, strong bike and a genuine runners run could bode well for him on Saturday. I am excited to see how he goes. He is not only a great athlete; he is a super human being. I am proud to race with him and even more proud to be his friend.

Kristen “Rosie” Barnes is both an IMJ athlete and my navy teammate. Rosie and I go back a few years. Rosie is an F-14 Tomcat Radar Intercept Officer by trade and is good at just about everything. I first met her at a CpC camp I coached back in 2007 with Chris McCormack and Mitch Gold. I first noticed how tough she was back then when we were swimming heinous sessions that included 6-7k swims and 6-7 hour bikes. There is no quit in Rosie and she motivates me every time I open her logs. Rosie just got back from a year in Kuwait where she was working with the Army. Rosie emailed me out of the blue and asked if it was possible to start laying down serious training even though she was in isolated duty with not much for training venues. We worked it out and she has been laying it down since then. Whenever I need to get motivated, I look to Rosie. She gets me fired up for sure!

Having this crew here with T, me, as well as our coach, Kristian and his wife Charlotte has made this week wonderful. The daily sessions with each of us meeting up every morning is a great way to start the day. If you sometimes get down, just surround yourself with positive people. It will help every time.

Tomorrow, the Vulcans will start to arrive en masse. Let the games begin!



Jonser

“The person born with a talent they are meant to use will find their greatest happiness in using it”

I read a quote in my daytimer this morning when I woke up that says “The person born with a talent they are meant to use will find their greatest happiness in using it”. I have been sitting here sipping my coffee looking over the dark ocean, as the sun has yet to rise, thinking about that meaty quote. Some dude named Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe has now taken my morning hostage as I run the concept around in my grape for awhile. I have been thinking about talent, ones path, happiness vs. unhappiness a lot lately. I have an entire blog in the future to write about this one as I was heavily influenced by a documentary I watched last Sunday, Rush: beyond the lighted stage. It is a wonderful documentary about my personal favorite band of all time, but there is so much more about this amazing Canadian trio and their journey over the course of the bands history. Like I said, this one is a whole blog in itself after the race, but it comes down to the same principal to which Goethe speaks- using your talent to find your greatest happiness.

So Friday in Kona was just wonderful after arriving late Thursday night. T and I swam together in the ocean and I swam the entire course to just loosen up and settle in to being in Kona. The currents were sporty and I ended up taking the long route. It was nice of a kayaker to come all the way out to see if I knew where the hell I was going. I joked to the gal that now we know why my swim splits here are always terrible. It is not only because I am slow, but I am challenged at navigating as well. That is a tough combo to overcome! She laughed; we talked about the weather, the changes in Kailua in the last few years, the remodel of the King Kam hotel and other sundries. I then decided that even though I am a sailor and built to go to sea, staying closer to the shore might be a better call. At the turnaround buoy I stopped and said hello to a guy just resting at the half way mark. He was from Austria. He was keen to speak English to me and we had a nice chat. This was his first Kona and I could tell he was ecstatic and scared to death all the same time. He was a wonderful dude. I wished him well and swam in to shore.

There is something so free about swimming in the ocean. It is easily one of the most enjoyable things I get the chance to do in my life. I spent some time as a boy living on a lake in Arkansas and had unlimited access to swimming in that lake. At 11 years old, I used to launch out solo and swim all the way across the lake and back. It was probably a 3k swim or so and I used to love to just find a tree on the other side of the lake and swim for it. I would climb up on the brick wall on the other side, do a Tarzan yell and dive back in and swim back. I remember I used to feel like I had really done something when I would get back. When I was that age, I was a tiny kid. Scrawny and small, completely unsure of just about everything, but when I was slicing through that water, I was free, powerful, and as happy as I ever need to be. Thirty four years later, I feel exactly the same way. Maybe that is what Goethe is talking about. It is definitely something for me to think about for awhile.

The week before Ironman week is a great time to get here. The majority of the Vulcans have yet to arrive, so the town is not as crowded, it’s just more of the hard core that are here and it is wonderful. Friday afternoon, Paul got here and he and I went for a short, brisk run along Alii Drive to get our running legs back after a long day of travel. Paul and I have been buds for almost a decade and training partners for the same amount of time. We have run so many miles together over the years, literally thousands of miles. It comforts me to run next to him after all this time. Paul is a pure runner and his body sway, little foot slap he has, and his gentle laugh at just about everything I say, are so comforting to me. We no longer live right next to each other and don’t train together every single day like we used to, but it is like not a minute has passed since our last training session together. Everybody needs a closer than close bud. It is one of those gifts from God that I don’t ever take for granted.

After training, Teresa and I hit the bike shop to get the necessary race stuff and replace a few items that the TSA stole out of my bike box. One quick word on the TSA (Transportation Security Administration) and then I won’t touch it again. The TSA and I do not get along. The TSA gets to me because it is a group of folks that operate in a mode where there is no thought or reasoning involved in their search process. They might as well be robots. The only problem is they are operating off of strict rules, yet they all don’t know the rules. So here you have folks that won’t think, won’t reason, and don’t adhere to their own rules because they don’t completely know them. They hate guys like me who actually know that there is a website called www.tsa.gov and you can read the instructions for yourself. God help you if you point it out to them. I would have to say in full disclosure that I went to grad school with two TSA executives. Both were extremely intelligent and wonderful people. It is a problem downstream. I wouldn’t mind, but they never put my bike box back together right and my bike has scratches to prove it. They take stuff the regulations allow me to bring, yet you can’t debate them about it because nothing is more powerful than a knucklehead with a badge. I’m over it…not really, but I’m done blogging about it. Add it to the reasons why I drink!

So this quick little story about the bike shop and then I will go train. We go into the bike shop. We are there at least two hours. Teresa tries on just about everything, involves every single employee in her search for the perfect whatever it is she is looking for, puts everything back or returns it days later, asks everyone’s opinion on just about everything and then once they are all completely exhausted…leaves! She just kills me. I find it the funniest thing. T just has no problem involving employees in her shopping experience. As we are driving away I ask her if maybe she drives all those folks crazy. “Oh no, sweetie. They ALL know me in there!” You bet your bippy they all know her! Splits me in two. I crack up laughing just thinking about some of the shit she does. It is one of the thousand things I love about her and why she is my partner for life.

Well, the sun is up, I am properly caffeinated, and the princess has awakened and is ready to train, so out the door we go!

Thanks for reading.

Shaka,

Jonser

Kona 2011 Day 1

                                   
Kona baby! Here we come…again!


I have been traveling all day. 0300 wake up for T, Sassy and me. Sassy to the doggy daycare, T to United for some space available travel fun, and me to American Airlines courtesy of the U.S. Navy. T got on both flights and got into Kona this morning. I flew Denver to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Honolulu and then a 6 hour sit due to a cancelled flight and then over to Kona. I am currently in between Honolulu and Kona now.

I have been thinking about this year’s Kona all week long and have no idea how it is going to go. As a pilot, I just go by a checklist. It makes things easy for me. Here was my checklist last night when I was packing:

Bike-check, Bike stuff-check, run gear-check, swim gear-check, casual clothes, underwear and a shavekit-check, frazzled nerves because I am scared to death I didn’t recover from Canada-check, pit in my stomach because I have been breaking my own rule on getting 8 hours of sleep a night-check, amazing excitement because tomorrow I will wake up and swim the course-check, pumped because Hamster and Paul get here tomorrow-check, 14 days uninterrupted with my wife-check, checklist complete.

I will take the next week and spend some time talking about the inside of age group kona racing, general perceptions I have for this year, anything interesting that pops up, and of course, tell you a lot about my amazing athletes that are here racing Kona. I am fortunate enough to have six of them here this year.

For now, I would say that the only overarching feeling I have is one of gratitude. I am grateful to be healthy enough to once again come to the island and race in what I would consider the Big Daddy of our sport. Just getting here and getting here healthy is a huge accomplishment. Like I have heard it said- it is an honor to race Kona. I feel it huge right now!

The Flight Attendant just announced, “we have begun our initial descent into Kona Keahole Airport. Please bring your seat to the upright and locked position, ensure any personal items you have taken out during the flight are safely stowed underneath the seat in front of you, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign, this is for your safety and the safety of those around you. Please turn off any electrical devices, laptop computers, cellphones”…Doh! That’s me! More later…!

Jonser

Ironman Canada 2010- It is a thin line between quitting and winning!

    Paul, clearly enjoying the fact his Kona slot is in the bag!

I have said before in this blog that Ironman Canada is where I started my Ironman journey and that this race was by far my favorite event. I come away from this Ironman in Penticton feeling the same way.

We arrived in Penticton late in the evening and began our week in Paradise with an easy run. There is a magical quality to Penticton. It is hard to explain to someone in a blog, so I won’t try. I will just say that picture Tuscany on a lake close to some of the nicest human beings our planet has to offer, and you have Penticton. We had a special crew of IMJ athletes there this year. The mornings were my favorite parts with all of the crew jumping in the lake at 7:30 or so every morning. Race week morning group swims are easily one of my favorite aspects of our sport. Standing around with bed head and pillow marks on our faces, donning our wetsuits talking about whether the water is cold or not with the crew is just fun. There is a pre race vibe of excitement, slight nervousness, but generally just great energy amongst the bunch. Every morning we would all assemble, jump in and get wet. We would swim along the buoy line in a pack and when we would get a bit strung out; I would stop and re gather the tribe. We would usually toss around jokes, make fun of someone about something and generally just have a good time. Every morning after the swim we would all meet at the same café called the Bench. It is a lovely café with an international vibe as we would meet the Swiss and German athletes there every morning. I love to sit around café’s and get high on lattes, and this café is no exception.

Our pre race week is really not that interesting and is kind of just technical tri-geekery, so I won’t cover it blow by blow. Bottom line: it was fun.

The race:

I was a little more nervous this year than I remember being for past ironmans. I am guessing the reason for that is I felt like I was coming into this race with pretty good form. I had gotten a really good look at my fitness at the Racine 70.3 in July and had a chance to address the issues I found needed work between the two races. Coaching our two camps back to back provided me with a challenging 55 hour block of work in about 13 days, so I was absorbing that nicely and thinking that I might have the opportunity to run a personal best in this year’s IMC. In years past, I have never run well on the course along Skaha lake and was curious if my long runs in Magnolia above 9,000’ elevation back home might help to bring me into this race a bit stronger on the run, as that was my limiter in Racine a month prior. I found it interesting that I would be more nervous the more fit I was. I think the reason is I didn’t want to squander that fitness with a bad performance or by making a racing mistake. With my aggressive life and work schedule, I don’t know when I will be able to build that level of fitness again.

The morning of the race was miserable for me. I just sat on the couch eating my breakfast, nervous as hell. I am able to control it, but geez, no fun. I became very concerned after body marking when I ran out to the Starbucks to get to a restroom, and as I was running out there my legs felt terrible. Usually on race morning, my legs feel springy and explosive, and usually give me a shot of confidence that I am race ready. As I ran, I felt like my knees and ankles were just bottoming out. The visual in my head was like I was running with a pocket full of bolts; just heavy and flat. I didn’t panic, but I definitely remember thinking this does not feel good.

The swim got off quick and within 5 or 6 hand hits I was free of the crowd and swimming in clear water on a solid pair of feet. I was digging that for sure! The water was like glass and everyone around me obviously had a clue on how to swim in a triathlon. We formed a couple nice little lines and away we all went. The girl I was swimming on was swimming straight enough and was a classic two beat kicker, so it was easy to see where she was and where she was going. I was living large for sure. I stayed on her feet until the turnaround when she exploded and fell away to never be seen again. I saw a pack in front of me about 30 meters ahead, so I decided I would try to dig hard for a few minutes and see if I could bridge up. I was successful in that attempt and I found another set of female feet. This gal was going max gas and I had to initially dig hard to get on. I was able to stay with her until about 3 buoys to go and she lit off another rocket booster. I kept her at about two body lengths and could not get any closer, but she wasn’t getting any further away. Good enough! I exited the swim, saw 54 something on the clock and away I went into the changing tent.

It is not often you go into T1 and the volunteer helping you is a friend. One of my Canadian military coach friends was a volunteer in the tent. Michel recognized me as well, as we have been to Sweden and India together as athletes and coaches for our respective national teams. My only challenge was to put on my gear as fast as he was putting on the rest of my gear! He had me suited up and ready for bike combat in what seemed like about 8 seconds. Out on the bike, I was riding out Main Street and looked down to see I was driving 340 watts. A touch large on the power I would say, so I made a mental note to trim way back and not try to eat up the faster swimmers all at once. Climbing up McLean Road I lost my spare kit out the rear cage holder. I had to do a U-turn and go get it. I lost a considerable amount of momentum, not to mention the group of dudes I was leading up the climb. That is how it goes when you don’t tape things down properly. The ride was uneventful for the first 90 minutes or so. I was by myself the whole way. When I say by myself, I mean I can’t see anyone in front of me and I cannot see anyone behind me. Crickets and the lovely, hypnotic sound of a disk wheel- that is it.
After passing through the small town of Oliver, I looked behind and to my right and I could see the mountain passes I was going to be climbing in an hour or so. My pilot’s eye spotted the weather front moving toward the mountains. I thought to myself that the mountains are going to get ugly soon. I decided that I would risk going hard early in order to be up and over the passes before the real stuff hits. I dialed up my watts and was holding 260 watts on the flats and climbing the rollers at 280-320 depending on the pitch. I knew I might blow up, but if you know me, you know I do not tolerate the cold at all. Never have. I would much rather race in a furnace than a refrigerator. It is just how I am built. I got up the first pass called Richter and into the rollers, affectionately known as the “7 bitches” with no drama. I climbed solid, but not my best, and was generally moving well. I never felt like I had that pure pop in my legs that I usually have when I race, especially when I climb. I just felt flat for whatever reason. My legs weren’t tired, just flat. Anyhow, I just pressed on without much overall concern. I just kept riding my tempo, eating and drinking and hoping for good things. I got up Yellow Lake Pass and on the final ascent, the rain hit. At about this same time, payment came due for my earlier decision to ride watts I cannot sustain the entire 180k of riding. I was not surprised when it hit, I was just happy that I was inside 10 minutes of summiting and would be able to motor back into town on what I had left. The rain started hitting me pretty hard and my legs got really cold. I focused on descending safely down the mountain and a few of the younger dudes passed me going much faster than I was willing to go. When I was a flight school instructor pilot, I used to refer to that as NAFOD (no apparent fear of death). I wished the young boys well, and hoped they wouldn’t pay a severe penalty for the 55 mph descent on wet, slipper asphalt. I shiver uncontrollably on cold descents and if I don’t really focus, it can get really dangerous really fast. As I entered Penticton, I had become very cold and my legs were seizing a bit. I was solid on calories and water, but the overall cold had really soaked into my body. I was suffering for sure. I started thinking about pulling the pin. I worried that I would dig too deep into my system and not only finish this race poorly, but endanger my effort in Kona, which is only 6 weeks from Canada. As I tried to ride with pace back into T2, my legs were absolutely gone. I remember looking down and seeing 129 watts and I was riding for all I was worth. I decided to not fight the power and just rode comfortably back in. It is what it is, I remember thinking. As I got off my bike, I remember hearing the announcer, Steve King, state that I was the leader in my age group. Figures, I would quit a race that I was leading. Bike split 5:10:50.

I got into T2 and the volunteer there was just awesome. He was putting all my gear right in front of me and encouraging me to hurry. I was so cold; I had kind of gotten to the point where I was convinced I was going to pull out. I told him so and he couldn’t believe it. He told me he had only seen 30 or so guys come through the tent and that nobody as old as me had gotten there yet. I think that was a compliment, but I am not sure! I went to the restroom and took care of that urgent feeling that had been there the last hour and then decided I would run out on Lakeshore and talk to my longtime training partner and best bud, Paul. I got to Paul and he was full of stats, positions and other key race info that I should be caring about. I told him I might quit. I honestly can’t remember the conversation we had, other than he encouraged me to run for a while and see if I felt better. I got emotional and he ran alongside me until I quit balling. I tell ya, man. There is no crying in baseball, but there is a heap of crybabies in Ironman. I was feeling absolutely exhausted, my feet were numb, my butt hurt from a nagging saddle sore I had picked up late in August and I was freezing cold. Total freaking misery. I asked myself; why in the hell do I do this stuff?! This sucks! So I got my act together. Paul squeezed my arm and told me to give myself a chance to win, and that I had a big lead. I trust Paul. I have written enough about him in this blog, I will spare you the love fest.

So up I go onto Main Street with a Canadian in the 50-54 AG. He was awesome. We were running stride for stride and then he just fell behind and drafted off me up the hill. We were close enough that we were still talking. As we cleared the second aid station, all the bikers were starting to come in. In about a 2 minute time frame, four or five spectators on the side of the road were screaming “Go Jonser” and then about 10 riders from my crew and others I know all were screaming “Run Jonser” and then T rode by and screamed “Go Scott”. So now I am committed. There is just no way can I quit this thing. They have all seen me and I am in. I told myself I need to HTFU and get up the road. At least give yourself a chance to win this thing, I told myself. The Canadian also added into the mix when he asks me, “hey, is there anybody here you don’t know?!” We laughed and I could tell our running legs were starting to come to both of us so we started to lay it down proper. I came right at about the 7 or 8 mile marker and it was there I started thinking, hey, I don’t think I am stinking up this run. Things feel pretty solid here. I climbed up into the OK Falls and low fived Dennis Meeker, my Boulder buddy, coming the other way. Hey, I am almost at the turnaround and the fast dudes are just now climbing out. Things are ok. I just need to keep running, eating and don’t puss out of this thing!

As I was climbing out of the OK Falls, I ran into a friend of mine, Dave Ciaverella, who was on the side of the road on his mountain bike. I asked him if he had seen anyone in my age group. He shared with me that he thought he saw a dude running the same speed as me, 3 minutes behind. Holy cow, I thought, I better ramp it up and see if anything is there. I picked up my tempo at the 15 mile mark and ran as hard as I could all the way back into town. I was pleased with the tempo I was holding. I looked behind me and I could not see another athlete in sight. I thought, well this is a good thing and just kept running with everything I had. I came through the 22 mile mark and another bud, Ben Bigglestone, saw me and starting going crazy, cheering me and jumping up and down. I got choked up for some reason. It is just good to see people you know when you are suffering and hitting it hard. I was able to just go full speed all the way to the finish. I came down the chute, high fived my dear buddy Paul and Hamster’s wife, Margy and ran with authority all the way to the tape. 3:28 on the run. 9:40:52 on the day. Steve King looked down at me from up in the booth above the finish line and announced to everyone that I had just won my age group. 2010 Ironman Canada Age Group Champion 45-49.

My take-aways:

-When in serious difficulty, Franklin Deleanor Roosevelt offers outstanding counsel: Never ever ever ever give in!

-I owe Tim Deboom, two- time Ironman World Champion, a sincere thank you for my performance in this race. When I started the day, I did not feel good. I never felt good at any point during the day. I never felt strong, I never felt powerful. As I described, there were times when I felt worse than I ever have. Tim said during an interview after his 2002 victory in Kona that you don’t have to feel good to go fast. I repeated that to myself for 9+hours last Sunday. I don’t know Tim. I have seen him often over the last year I have lived here, and we wave at one another on rides in Boulder, but if I ever do meet him, I will be sure to thank him for sure. Had I not had those words with me, I don’t know if I could have kept charging all day.

-Having a wife that has taught me how to eat, sleep and live like a champion is indescribable. She tells me daily how talented I am and that I am going to keep getting faster. She has helped me change my racing from not trying to lose, to actually turning that energy the other way and racing to win. That sounds like a subtle shift in philosophy, but it is not. It is a very dramatic difference in how you execute your race. It changes how you structure everything in your life. Thanks Sweet Pea.

-Having a network of friends, especially dear ones that you can tell anything to, and can lean on when you are tired, cold, and suffering makes all the difference in the world. Thank you, Paul.

-I have significantly benefitted from swimming with Monica Byrn and seeking Joanna Zeiger’s counsel on race pacing. Monica has shown me the penalty in pacing poorly in a hard, long workout and Joanna has given me a couple of go to swim workouts that I do every Monday and it made all the difference in the world. Thanks JZ and Monica.

-One of my goals in 2011 is to become a better bike mechanic. Currently, I am a touch below absolutely terrible. Thanks to Shawn Burke for pre-flighting my bike for me and getting my Zero brakes race ready. I am not ashamed to say in front of God and everybody- Zero brakes suck. They are light for a reason; they don’t serve any other purpose. My new bike will have durace or ultegra. I won’t even sell my zero brakes. I wouldn’t put anybody else’s life in jeopardy. But seriously, thanks Shawn.

-Thanks to Dave Ciaverella. After the race he confessed that the nearest guy to me was over ten minutes behind, but that I was running well and he didn’t want me to slow down. Thanks, bro.

Lastly, I would like to thank all of my athletes. I read your logs daily, love to train with you at our camps, and you motivate me more than you would ever know. Our little mom and pop coaching enterprise is not only as fun as anything I have done, we are forming lasting life friendships beyond my wildest expectations. Just remember, rest days are for the weak!

I will close this blog with my own piece of advice to you. It has served me well over the years, as I am clearly an emotional type of dude. It is an old navy pilot trick; it is also a line from an old A3 song - “If you’re going to cry, leave your shades on!”

Peace,
Jonser

Forty days to Ironman Canada

Forty days to Canada.  Wow, how a year can fly by in a blink of an eye.  It feels like it was four months ago that Teresa and I stood in line to get our slots for Canada up in Penticton.  I had big plans for this year’s Ironman Canada.  I saw myself doing a pr with a crazy fast time, but to be honest, my winter and spring prep was just spotty enough in consistency that I am now just training to be respectable within my age group.  I am not a believer in excuses, only in results.  This year was a pretty work-charged year for me and there were weeks where training just could not come first, and it shows in my current fitness.  I will go as hard as I can possibly go, but I am also realistic in my expectations.  I never count myself out of anything, but I was planning on rolling into this final build with much better form.

T and I raced in the Racine 70.3 over the weekend up in Wisconsin.  First, I will talk about the race and then about my effort there.  Racine is a first rate race.  It deserves to be a major race and was happy to see the big pros show up and go fast.  Crowie, Bell, Major and Warriner all were there along with other top pros and didn’t disappoint. 

So what makes a race a good race or a bad race?  For me, it is all about safety, vibe/good energy, volunteer attitude, and a course that is laid out well for the athletes.  Racine 70.3 gets an A+ in all of those categories.  With safety always needing to be a priority, I was extremely pleased with the way the course was laid out.  The intersections were all perfectly marked, manned and guarded by police, so there was no way traffic was going to impede upon the race.  Also, the corners were all swept so clean you could eat off them.  I was able to corner at high speeds with no worries with sand, gravel, etc.  There were some chip seal breaks in the road that jar you around a little, but hell, that isn’t the race’s fault.  Its Wisconsin farm country and that is how they build the roads there.

The vibe of the race is a great one.  The expo was fantastic. The attitude of everyone we met from Kenosha to Racine couldn’t do enough for us…and with a smile.  As a people guy, I loved this aspect of our time there. 

One of the things that can be good and potentially bad in our sport are the kids that are volunteers.  Kids are the perfect volunteers if the aid station captains have provided enough instructions so that the kids help the athletes, not impede their progress.  I don’t think that I have ever seen a race that had trained the kid volunteers as well as this one.  The young folks were all heads up, paying attention, totally in to the race and they could not have done a better job.  That is saying a lot when you have to feed and water 2,000 athletes.  Also, children give me energy.   A nice young person with a smile throwing a coke my way is good for me in my heart and when I am racing with a good heart, I am at my best.  I think the aid station captains were magnificent with their crews in Racine.  God bless them.

The course itself is laid out beautifully.  The swim was a point to point swim.  We walked down the beach and swam from one end to the other.  I had never done a swim like that before.  Also, the buoys were perfectly placed apart so that when you passed one buoy, you could already spot the next one.  This made it simple to swim a straight line.  I am not known for my navigation, so if I can swim straight as an arrow on a course, you know it is perfect. 

The bike course is sweet.  It is an honest course in that while relatively flat, had just enough false flats and mild rollers to allow those whose bike is their weapon to get away and use that to their advantage without having a pack hunt them down.  I also would have to say that I did not see one single pack or drafting violation on the entire day.  The officials were there, but like a good referee in a boxing match, they were not a factor in the outcome of the race.  I loved this bike course-fair, but still laid out in a way that if you wanted to motor around at 25 mph, you could do it if you brought the legs.

The run was perfect.  Flat with just a couple of soul suckers climbing out of town that made ya work for whatever you got.  At the half iron distance, I like the two loop runs.  It makes it super simple.  Three miles or so out, same back, repeat.  No worries. 

The fans were terrific in this race.  Standard Wisconsin people- friendly, warm, enthusiastic, engaged.  What more does an athlete need, eh?  So Racine 70.3 is an A+ race in every way.  I look forward to doing it again!

As far as my race, I was neither displeased nor elated.  It was an opportunity for me to take a look at my fitness before my last four week build to Canada prior to my peak/taper.  As I have written in previous blogs, my training and racing has been spotty since 2006.  I gauge most of my efforts upon my 2006 logs to compare where I am at based on where I have been in my fitness before.  2006 was a strange year.  It was epic from the perspective of what I was able to do with my racing.  I plowed through barriers that year that I never thought I would be capable.  My cycling really went to another level with both a 53 min 40k in an Olympic and my 4:53 bike in Kona.  My swimming was as solid as it had ever been and my running, while not fast, was uber strong.  I could muscle the same pace forever- I just didn’t have anything but one gear.  But I was ok with that gear!  From a personal perspective, 2006 was also the most tragic year of my life.  I almost lost one of my best buddies I have ever had when my training partner Paul narrowly dodged death when he was hit by a car on a training ride.  2006 was also the year I got divorced, which is the single greatest tragedy in my life.  I doubt I will ever truly recover from that, but I don’t go there in this blog. 

So after 2006 I have struggled as an athlete.  Last year was super in that I started to build toward a recovery from that layoff.  I cannot be happier with my 3:01 in Boston.  Many thanks to my good bud Jim Felty for guiding me through my build for Boston.  If you are a pure runner and are looking for a wonderful coach and super person, work with Jim Felty.  Top shelf guy.  Also, as I have written in this blog, my 2009 Kona was my finest race ever.  Not because I went my fastest, I did not.  It is my greatest achievement because I was able to dig deeper than ever before and when I dug deep into the dark parts, I liked what I found.

So here we are in 2010, I am 45.  So now what do I do in the sport?  I had laid out huge plans for the season with some pretty high benchmarks.  The reality is a guy has to work.  Often, that work has to come first.  I spent a lot of this year sneaking in training around the seams and you just don’t get better doing that.  If you really want to get better in this sport, you can disregard most of the hyped BS methodologies out there.  Put away your powermeters, heart rate monitors, and all the other fancy stuff that people buy solely because it is embossed with an Mdot.  If you want to go faster in this sport than you ever have, you just need to embrace Gordo Byrn and Scott Molina’s mantra of JFT (just f*ckin’ train) 40 out of 52 weeks a year.  If you do that, everything else falls in place.  Once you are living that protocol, THEN you can start to worry about power and your FT, whiz bang gadgetry and the like. Not until you are consistent and frequent in all three disciplines can you even entertain the idea of looking at adding other aspects to your daily training regimen.  That is the short and the long of it with me.  If I want to get faster as I get older, I have to live the training I prescribe to my athletes.  If I am not laying down consistent and purposeful weeks of training, than I will not go any faster.  If that is the case then I will have to settle for 2006 being the highlight year of my ironman journey.  Hope is not a strategy, but I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen.  The prescription for this kid for the future is as simple as this- JFT, Jonser…and dig it while you do it!

So the report card on this race for me was a B+.  The last 5-6 weeks I have been laying it down proper and I can see that I am making genuine strides in building form for both Canada and then Kona.  My swim in Racine was 31 minutes.  I lead my wave from start to finish of the swim, so I had no gauge as to how fast I was going.  I felt strong and smooth in the water, so was surprised with the longer time; I am more of a high 26/low 27 kind of guy.  I rarely freak out when I see a slower swim split.  Swims are hard to mark perfectly for distance and with currents and things, it is even harder.  I am not unhappy with the swim.  I have struggled all year with my swim.  Bottom line, I am one of those guys that doesn’t improve unless I am hitting 15-20k of swimming a week.  If I swim less than that I basically maintain what I have in swimming fitness.  I have been able to get in some bigger weeks as of late and I can see my swim splits gradually sneaking down a touch.  

My bike was very solid.  I rode 2:19.  The winner of the race (my ag) rode a 2:11.  He was a stud on the bike.  We spoke after the race.  He was a super nice guy.  His name was Chris.  He shared with me he is a former elite cyclist.  It showed!  He came by me at about 35 miles and I asked him if he brought anyone with him.  He was incredulous.  He said hell no, he was averaging 27 mph!  Well there you go.  If you don’t want guys on your wheel in a half ironman, truck around the course at 27 mph.  You don’t have to worry about a wheel sucker at those speeds!  I kept him in view for about 10 miles, but I just couldn’t hang with him any longer and I had to ride my effort, not his. 

I got off the bike feeling good.  I ran the first loop at a 7:02 pace and the second at a 7:09 pace.  I was secretly hoping that I would run a touch better than 7 min miles, but again, races are a report card and my true running fitness off the bike for a half is not sub seven stuff yet.  I ran as hard as I could with no cramps or issues, and felt strong enough to run at max effort the whole way, so that is where my fitness really is- 1:33 stuff.  A fella can hope to be a 1:25 kind of guy all he wants, but if you run as hard as you possibly can from start to finish and you go 1:33, well, you are a 1:33 guy and you need to decide what you need to do in your training to get that run time to improve.  For me, I am working that over in my grape as we speak.  I’ll get back to ya and let you know what I did if I get it right.

Overall, I was happy to race from start to finish and go as hard as I could the whole way to hit the tape at 4:28:32.  It really helps me and my coach Kristian put together the pieces as to where to focus for the time remaining before taper.  If I were to have to factor in a flat or cramps, etc it would be much more difficult.  I have no excuses.  4:28 was all I had in me.  B+.

One area I need to dramatically improve is racing.  I am rusty big time.  T felt the same way.  In years past, it would take me about 15 min to break down and pack my bike and tri gear to travel and I would need about that amount of time to rebuild and set up in transition.  I was lost like a toddler in Wal-Mart in the transition area trying to remember what I need to have in there and where to put everything.  Layoffs are really detrimental to racing, in my opinion.  One of the huge takeaways from this weekend is as I plan next year, I am going to put at least 8-10 races on the calendar.  This racing 1-3 times a year just isn’t enough.  We felt the same way in St Croix.  I think surgeons remove gall bladders faster than I set up in transition this weekend.  I give myself a D there.  The good news is I know how to fix it-race more.

Lastly, the one area where I give myself a very high A, if not A+, is my mental focus for this race.  I just wrote a Monday minder about this on my website.  Check it out if you feel the urge.  I am finally getting my brain around the race nerves thing after 10 years of seriously racing.  I think I raced the entire race in a positive mental state, with a very quiet mind all day.  That makes all the difference in the world when you can just relax and feel your body do what it knows how to do.  No hr monitor, no power, just max effort with a flat mind.  It works for me and I am going to keep going with that.

That is all I got.  Thanks for reading.  As always, train with joy or not at all!

Jonser

Let's get this year started!

It has been quite awhile since my last post on my blog. It hasn’t been due to laziness, I usually don’t get pumped to post until I get deep into the racing part of the year.

Ironman Canada

I have been fortunate through the latter half of the winter and early spring to start putting my training together and make solid gains as I build my fitness toward my A race this year, which is Ironman Canada in late August. I have completed Ironman Canada 5 times and have watched the race 3 times in the last 10 years. I have to admit there is no other race that evokes such“specialness” to it, if that is even a word. While Kona is the “macdaddy” big boy race, Ironman Canada and that week in the Okanagan Valley each year is no less than an epic journey. I love that race.

As much as I love IMC, I never have my best races there for some reason. I do well enough, but have never nailed it. This year is going to be different. I want to put in a swim I am proud of, be huge on the bike, and not falter on that run. I usually get my butt kicked on the run, typically climbing back out of the Okanagan Falls after the turnaround and limping home. That isn’t going to happen this year! My goal is to run solid into the Falls and rage coming out. Regardless of my overall time, if I can power back strong all the way to Main Street, I will be more than satisfied! I proved to myself last year in Kona that I can run hard for the last 10 miles.

Living in Boulder

I think some of my life choices over the last year have really set me up nicely to continue to go faster at least through the remainder of my forties, but I am hoping for much longer ;) Obviously, the choice to move to Boulder has been huge. This town is clearly built for folks like T and me. We are very basic people with basic needs and desires. Living in our neighborhood quietly tucked away in the fields of Boulder County is my version of heaven on earth. I even like it that some of my neighbors have the blue tarps over their pickups with the flat tires. It just adds color and texture to that mosaic we refer to as humanity. It would drive me crazy if I ever intended to sell my house, but because I intend to die in my current home, it doesn’t bother me a lick…anyway, I digress.

The ability to cycle and run right out my front door is such a luxury. It is unbelievable what it has done for my consistency. My training crew is absolutely exceptional and I think will be the reason I will someday write in this blog about breaking age group records or winning a race outright. I don’t say that as anything other than that I truly believe that I have so much that I have not done in this sport and even though I am 45, I feel better (literally) than I did when I first gave this sport a go when I was 24. I am really blessed with the ability to train with folks that are perfect for me. For me, my wife is the perfect training partner. I love training with her. Where I am intense (so I am told, I think I’m as chill as they come, but some protest to that characterization) and sometimes all over the map with emotion, she is steady and mellow. It calms me to just be in the same room with her, and it is even more that way when we train. After all, that is how we met. I only knew her about 20 minutes before we were training in the pool together back in 2007. )

The Crew

One of the big surprises to my moving to Boulder is that I have gotten the opportunity to train consistently with Joanna Zeiger. I remember watching her in the 2001 Ironman coverage, which might have been a bit unfair, and thinking, “Wow, this chick is intense!” I got to know her a bit when she would train with Mitch and me in Palm Springs. She was always pretty quiet, but we had decent chats. She and I would go out for a second run every few days right before dinner and we would get to know each other a bit, but still were kind of strangers. This winter, she has been so generous, always extending the offer to train with her. We have put in some time in her basement on the trainer during the really cold months and ride our long Saturday rides outside now that it is warmer. Once you get over the fact that you are training with one of the most accomplished triathletes in our sport and get over the fact that she has a PhD in Genetics from Johns Hopkins and is a de facto Bronze medalist in the 2000 Olympics, you find you are training with a solid, consistent and generous athlete. She made huge contributions to my winter training this year both on the bike and in the weight room. My favorite thing about her is you can count on her. Triathletes can sometimes be flakes, and as a career military dude, that drives me freaking crazy! Joanna is not like that. She is where she says she is going to be and she shows up ready to train. I look forward to hitting the rides hard with her through the rest of the summer.

The other members of the crew are Brandon Del Campo and Billy Edwards. I have written about both in this blog before. I have been training with both for about 5 years and love every session I get in with either. They are both better athletes than me, but it ain’t about that. I have caused BDC to suffer before and he has certainly returned the favor. Billy is the same way. Billy and I were roommates during the earthquake in Kona in 06, as well as numerous races, and I just dig that kid. He has a crusty exterior, but its bullshit. He is as sweet as they come, and I am having a great time watching him make that transition from a young dude in his 20’s with his hair on fire, to becoming the coach/mentor/personal example that he has become for his kids he coaches at the Naval Academy.

With a crew like my wife, Joanna, BDC and Billy, I have no excuses. It all comes down to getting it done. I see this year at IMC as a test to see if I can do exactly that- get it done.

Will I ever really learn to swim?

One of my frustrations this year is something has happened to my swimming. I cannot figure it out, but when I first started this sport; my swimming was my weapon, with my cycling being solid and my run being slightly better than terrible. Both in Kona and last week in St Croix (a separate blog on its own) my swimming is now my worst of the three with my cycling becoming a legitimate weapon and my run being more than respectable (for long distance triathlon). I really have no excuse- I swim Dave Scott’s swims, Wolfgang Dietrich is hugely generous with his time, as is Simon Lessing. One of my hopes (fully recognizing that hope is not a strategy) is I unscrew this part of my racing and get my swims back down where they belong and not having to spend the first part of my bike catching back up to the leaders. I’ll continue to work on it.

Coaching…it matters!

Lastly, as I don’t want to make these blogs too long, is my coaching-as in who has coached me- not who I coach. I would have to say, I have been tremendously fortunate with coaches throughout my last 8 years in the sport.

My first tri coach was a guy named Peter Sleight. Peter really taught me a lot about balancing my weeks, training with a good attitude and letting my cycling develop through a focus on technique and being efficient.

My coach after that was Gordo Byrn. Back when Gordo wasn’t such a big deal, but every bit as smart and friendly, he used to coach guys by just answering their questions via email for $100 bones a month. In only about 4 months of swapping emails and a few calls with Gordo, along with reading his old school blogs, and his old forum, I learned a ton. I went from a 10:07 guy to breaking 10 and going to Kona in under 6 months. That was a sweet deal I had with Gordo, and it is unfortunate that he went off to do other things, because there were a few of us that hit the jackpot with that set up.

My next coach was 1988 Ironman Champion Scott Molina. Scott coached me during the summer of 2006 and man did that guy help me go to the next level! Living Molina protocols, while coaching Camps with CpC, put most of the stats in my racing bio that I list on my website. The reality is, some of these coaches like Molina charge a lot of money (because they are worth it) and I just couldn’t afford it.

After Molina, I found Bob Korock, a former pro and a phenomenal coach from Modesto, California. The tragedy with Bob is I signed on with him during a time that I didn’t have the time to really put in the sport for a few years. For the age grouper out there that is really looking for a guy to take him to the limit of his ability, I can’t say enough about Bob.

Last summer, after the navy selected me to represent them in Kona, I took Teresa’s advice and started working with a coach out of Queensland, Australia. His name is Kristian Manietta. Coaches are a personal thing and you can have two coaches tell you the same thing, but when a coach and an athlete just connect on another subliminal level, that training session becomes unbelievably productive. That is how it is with Kristian. He has a way of communicating with me that just make my training better than it has ever been before. My goal now is to take that wisdom and those sessions from Kristian and take my training and racing to a level that I can’t even yet know exists.

Yesterday is so… yesterday!

One thing I love about our sport is that in most circles guys my age are talking about how good they used to be or what their life used to be like. In triathlon we are all about what life is like now and how much better we are going to be in the coming days, weeks, and months.

Just thinking about how I am going to hit that next swim, bike or run gets me pumped. I don’t just limit that mindset to my sport. I use it in my flying, my coaching, and as a teacher/mentor/leader in the navy.

I think the primary take-away for me out of this post is that life is about today, while prepping for tomorrow. Yesterday is so…yesterday! Who in the hell cares about yesterday? I’m all about today. My former brother in law used to say something all the time that I thought was a great statement. He would say, “some folks look at the glass as half empty, and some look at the glass as half full. I look at the glass as half full, but it is only half full because I drank the other half and it was great!”

I dig it.

Work harder on yourself than you do your job- the late Jim Rohn.

Train with joy…

Jonser