Eight days of bliss in Riccione, Italy

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                                                  “Follow your bliss!”- Joseph Campbell

A few weeks back, as I stared at the ceiling of the ambulance, the first real thought that popped into my mind was, “damn, no Italy!”  I have been looking forward to riding in Riccione, Italy for almost three years. 

Back in 2010 or so, Mark Pietrofesa wrote me a note and told me he had found the place to train.  He shared with me that there was a hotel on the Adriatic coast of Italy where the riding was life-changing and that the person who runs the place, Marina, makes it the vacation of a lifetime.  From that email, I made a note to myself that riding in Italy in a situation like Mark described was now officially on my bucket list, a term for life “to do’s”. 

I wasn’t able to make it last year due to work and some other things.  I didn’t think it would happen this year either.  In my role in the navy, I was supposed to be locked down in San Diego for a navy exercise.  With sequestration came the cancellation of that exercise.  I told Teresa that if they really did cancel that thing that she and I better get to Riccione, as these opportunities are precious.  I am so glad we did.

Teresa and I spent 27 hours getting to Riccione, literally using almost every mode of transportation save pack mules to get there.  I knew that it was going to be a good trip when we walked out of the train station and there was one of the cycling guides, Marcus, waiting for us fresh off a ride.  We checked into the hotel and got our bikes dialed in within an hour of arriving.  Mark was already there, standing around in a cycling kit after riding all day.  It was obvious immediately to us that we had come to the Promised Land.

Teresa and I rode every day we were there.  I ended up riding just shy of 700 kilometers, saw a stage of the Giro d’italia, and even swam a little in the afternoons after riding.  We barbequed on mountaintops, dined midday in villages, sipped cappuccinos every 30k or so every single day and ate food that was world class three times a day.  Our days were spent primarily in the saddle riding up steep hills, descending through varied and magnificent open country full of vineyards, open fields, small villages, and so much more.  The joke became “how long until we stop and have espresso at the next castle?”

In the evenings, we ate as a family at the “Pietrofesa party” table there in the hotel.  The staff is so attentive, the food so good and the vibe so nice, there was no real reason to leave the hotel for anything.  We just ate, rode, relaxed and slept.  What an awesome vacation- the best I personally have ever had. 

                                                                  THE CREW 

Mark Pietrofesa.  I met Mark at the race that is now called Oceanside 70.3.  It was called the Ralph’s Half back then.  Mark really helped me in 2009 in Kona with some badly needed encouragement right when I needed it on the run back up the Queen K.  In 2010, we rode within 30 meters of each other the entire bike portion of the race.  Since then Mark and my friendship has grown.  The primary reason for that is Mark is just easy.  He is easy to be around, easy to ride with, easy to talk to- just easy.  His girlfriend, Karlyn Pipes was there with Mark.  I have known Karlyn since I was 21 or so.  She was the lifeguard at the Navy pool in Coronado back in the 80’s where I would train when I was a young enlisted dude.  She and I didn’t really know each other that well back then.  Just the hello you say to the lifeguard as you jump in and out of the pool.  We got to know each other on this trip, and the seed is planted for a long and wonderful friendship, as she is one of the most pleasant and positive people I have ever met.

Zach Poehlman is a friend that I met back in 2005 at Vineman 70.3.  He and I have had the opportunity to train a lot over the years.  He is a navy pilot in his early 30’s and has become a wonderful friend to both T and me.  That friendship continues to flourish.  Zach was accompanied by his wife Jen, an orthopedic surgeon in the navy, who I had met in years prior.  Jen is understated, humble and brilliant.  My favorite thing about her is when she laughs, she laughs with her entire body.  It is a joyful enterprise to share in a laugh with her.

Chris Crosby and I had not met prior to this camp.  He happens to live in Boulder and is a geologist who is a very strong and serious cyclist.  This young guy and I have lots of mountains to climb together in the future.  We got along with his girlfriend Kristie like peas and carrots.

Eric Prime is another navy pilot who I had not met prior to this trip.  He knows his way around a bike and we got to ride a fair amount together during our week in Italy.

Gordo and Monica Byrn have been friends of ours for a few years.  Gordo coached me in 2004 and we have built a friendship over the years that I very much enjoy.  He is wise beyond his years and likes to hash things out through dialogue.  Although quite different in many ways, he and I see a lot of the world through the same lens, so the contrast between us both is fun to discuss over a meal.  He is also a former pro triathlete who can really wind it up proper when motivated to do so.  Monica is also a former pro and is the best swim coach in Boulder.  She is fun to hang out with and I look forward to every opportunity to do just that.

Scott Molina is the most decorated triathlete in our sport.  He was one of the original four giants (they call them The Big Four) that actually put our sport on the map close to 30 years ago.  He dominated triathlon through the 80’s and is respected by everyone who ever raced against him or has trained with him.  On top of his athletic accomplishments, he is a sage who peels the onion as fast as anyone I have ever met.  I have never had a boring or superficial conversation with him.  He gets right to it.  He coached me in 2006 to the Military World Championships and to my personal best in Kona the same year.  I hold him in very high regard.

There were a few others from England, Norway and Long Island that were there to train with the crew and I very much enjoyed getting to know them as well. 

      BIKE CRASHES SUCK

This year had been challenging for me almost all the way back to Kona last October.  I had a nasty hamstring pull that forced me to not run a good portion of the winter.  I was thinking that I was making solid strides in my fitness right up until my crash a few weeks ago.  In early April, I was out training by myself.  I was doing some harder efforts and was barreling down a country road north of Boulder where we all ride when I got loose in some sand.  As I tried to sit up on my triathlon bike and get my hands back on my handlebars to navigate through the sand, the back of my glove caught my brake hood and with my weight very forward of the bike I more or less lost my balance and then hit a guard rail doing 30mph or so.  I impacted right under my right arm taking the full blow in my rib cage.  I heard bones break and felt them crunching from the inside, so I knew before I even hit the pavement that I had broken my ribs or my back.  I was blessed with the first responders who showed up to take care of me within minutes of lying on the ground.  A couple of Hispanic farmers rushed over and helped disentangle me from my broken bike and helped me to wrestle my heart rate monitor from around my ribs as I was really struggling to breath and was immobile for the most part.  The ambulance and fire department showed up very soon after that and before I knew it I was on a backboard in the back of an ambulance on my way to the hospital.  I am not much for drama, so I will just say it has been a pretty rough cut 5 or so weeks since the injury with the persistent and enduring thought that my racing life might be over. 

I was so excited to be going to Riccione to train with Mark, Zach, Gordo and Molina.  I have trained with all of them before and love to be in a bike pack with those boys.  They are all crazy fit and tough, but they are also extremely kind and mature athletes.  There is no bullshit with those guys.  You just train.  Not much chatter, not much flash, just train.  Molina and Gordo are famous within the hard core side of our ironman community for a number of sayings, with one of the most famous being “JFT”, which stands for “Just Fucking Train.”  There is simplicity and beauty in that statement.  With these guys, they live it. 

After the crash, I shared with T that the most costly aspect of my being hurt was not that my racing season is most likely over; it was that I would not be able to train with these guys in Italy.  I got off the train in Riccione not expecting to be able to ride with the boys at all.  I had only ridden three or so times in the previous week just to prove that I could stay upright in the saddle and would be safe to ride outside and not on the trainer.  Mark (we call him Petro) told me the night I arrived that he didn’t care how slow I rode that we were going to ride together.  That, alone, was probably the most encouraging thing I had heard since I got hurt.  I was nervous, but quietly psyched! 

There is so much that I could write about regarding the content of each of the 100-140k rides we did last week.  I will just say that for me, I was in the back of the pack or slightly off the back most of the time-and so happy to be there riding with my friends.  I suffered pretty much the entire way due to the atrophy in my fitness and overall physical weakness, but I loved it.  The first couple of days were really rugged, as I rode literally as hard as I could ride just to stay with the boys.  Sure, I will admit, that I bled from the eyes and genuinely wondered everyday if I would be able to do the entire ride.  I am ok with those types of challenges.  It is fine to wonder if you have bitten off too much each day.  I was extremely fortunate that in a couple of times when I thought I had reached my absolute breaking point, a guardian angel would show up. 

The first time I thought I was going to crack wide open and have to stop was on the second ride.  We had started off right after clipping in to immediately starting the ride at 36kph.  It stayed that way for about the first 80 minutes.  Somebody in the pack mentioned that his power meter showed a normalized power of 280 watts for those 80 minutes.  When we went up hill, we went fast uphill.  After half a day of this, our guide Felice (a former Giro d’italia stage winner, who is a lovely man) led us up a very steep extended 8k climb.  I am not good at percentage of climbs, but guys were using words like 15-20%.  About half way up, I seriously thought my legs were going to seize and I would just stop. 

Due to my injury, I don’t have any intercostals strength yet in my upper body, so I could not stand to climb.  I had to just grind my way up while staying seated.  I am obviously exaggerating when I say “bleed from the eyes”, but not by much.  Anyone who has ever really suffered on the bike can relate when you get what I call the “puffy eye” effort.  Your eyes just feel like they are going to pop out and onto your cheeks because you are working so hard.  Right about then Gordo came cruising back down the descent and jumped in front of me and paced me up the mountain nice and easy, but purposeful.  It was exactly what I needed-just a back wheel to look at and to have as a target to stay focused in order to keep moving uphill.  Mark did that a couple of times last week and Molina got me through a ride I seriously thought I was going to have to quit later in the week.  It is the surges or the erratic standing climbs less experienced riders do in front of you that can wreck you when you are “creaking”, a term I use when an eyelash away from “cracking”.  Those steady and smooth pulls rescued me and would be just enough for me to get my shit together and ride solid again.  I found solace in that I got stronger every day and found some fitness by the end of the week.  After a long, hard slog up a mountain, Molina would turn around and yell “find some fitness yet, Jonser?!”  I would tell him that it takes a long time to get good and there is no easy way!  The joke there is that is a famous quote from Molina that Gordo published in his book “Going Long”. 

So that was the week of riding in Italy for me.  Hard, long climbs and surviving the occasional 40-50kph pain train back to town and steep exhilarating winding descents through the Italian countryside only to stop for the best espresso in the world and donuts purchased by Petro to get Jonser home!  If the boys would not have been there for me, I would have not been able to ride that terrain at those speeds.  I am in their debt.

  WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT FOR ALMOST 20 HOURS IN THE SADDLE?  IDENTITY.

When I was still pinned to the couch high on vicodin, I was having a heart to heart chat with my dear friend Brandon.  Brandon is a former track star at UCLA, a former pro triathlete and has been a close friend since we met when he was 30 at a triathlon camp back in 06.  Brandon has moments of clarity that I have come to trust.  I was sharing with him that day that I was worried that I might never fully recover and scared that I won’t race ironman anymore.  Brandon (known as Brando or BDC) said quickly off the cuff that my role as an athlete was probably the least I have to offer the world.  At first it stung, as what I heard was that I was not a good enough athlete for it to matter if I ever raced again.  After a few hundred miles to think about it, that is not what BDC was talking about.  What he was saying was actually a compliment.  He was simply stating that I have a lot to offer the world and most likely that my being an athlete is not that big of a contribution compared to other endeavors in which I am currently engaged.

I talked to Gordo about this a lot this week over coffee and nutella.  I shared with him the statement BDC made.  He saw it a different way.  He agrees that role as an athlete ain’t curing cancer, but it does set an example and that in itself has value.  So I chewed on that for a few k’s of climbing. 

I think what this all gets down to based on heart to hearts with Karlyn, Petro, G, Molina, Zach and of course, the best friend I have ever had in my life- T, is that it comes down to our perception of identity.  Specifically, how do we perceive our own identity?  I asked someone this week what was his goal in life.  What is his identity?  He didn’t even hesitate.  He matter of factly and confidently stated that his goal in life was to be the man his wife needs him to be.  I can tell he has really spent time thinking about it, as the answer was right there for him.

I have to admit that at 48, I am not that resolute.  I wish I were.  I wish I could just blurt out ice cold what I perceive my identity to be.  It is easy for me to answer questions like what do I stand for, but not as quick with what is my identity.  That is not to be confused with the statement that I don’t know who I am.  I, of course, know that one.  I am the son of Maxine, the brother of Chris and Eric, the father of Ben, the Pop of Allison, the grandfather of my unborn granddaughter Tigerlilly, and obviously the husband of Teresa.   They are my priorities, along with my faith.  That is the easy stuff.  I put them first and it is black and white.

Identity is different.  What is your identity?  Is it your rank?  Is it your reputation in your sport?  Your community?  Your church?  Your gym?  The letters after your name based on how long you went to school?  Your looks?  Who you are married to?  Your world ranking/records?  How much flight time you have?  How your friends perceive you?  Your mistakes?  Your achievements personal and professional?  Your income?  Your possessions?  Your lack of possessions?

It is a solid question.  I am still rolling this one around in my grape.  I think sometimes the hardest part to finding an answer is to discover and truly understand the question.  I wonder aloud if this is the reason I had the crash.  Obviously, the simple answer to why there was a crash is because Jonser needs to learn to ride his bike better, but along the way maybe this is the question I am supposed to be working on right here, right now.

I plan to keep working hard on this question as soon as I get home.  I think I will go for a ride and try to sort it out.

Peace,
Jonser

Kona Blog Post #4 Epilogue

My 12^th Ironman and my 6^th Kona are now in the books.  This race, as I wrote in my last post, means so much to me and I respect this course and the talent that races here like no other.  The athlete experience here is wonderful.  It all starts when you register.  There is no line, the volunteers are really wonderful and know exactly what they are doing.  When you put your bike in transition, it is like parading in front of the grandstand like a thoroughbred horse prior to the start at Pimlico.  All the industry guys are lined up on the side and are taking copious notes on what bike you are riding, what shoes you are wearing, what handle bars are on your bike, etc.  They really do their homework on their products here.  Once you get to your first volunteer, they inspect your helmet and bike and then you are assigned your own personal volunteer to escort you through the entire transition area.  The volunteers are wonderful.  I have always had great chats with them as they walk you over to park your bike, tell you any changes in the rules and then hang your transition bags in T1 and T2.  In the morning when you walk into body marking the volunteers are super attentive.   You wait for very little time.  My volunteers yesterday were from Brisbane, Australia.  They know our friends Robbie and Susie, so we had a great chat.  I asked if they knew my wife, Teresa.  They looked at me as if I had two heads and said you aren’t allowed to call yourself a triathlete in Australia if you don’t know the name Teresa Rider.  I smiled with pride. 

I got in the water and paddled out to the start.  I decided to go far to the right up against the pier.  It was crowded everywhere and I thought I would at least be on the buoy line.  I am a big believer in the shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

Mike Reilly, the race announcer, does a fantastic job in keeping the swimmers in place prior to the start.  It is more challenging than one would think with the swells moving us in and out, up and down.  Imagine 2000 bodies treading water in close proximity awaiting the cannon to go off.  Being on the inside line the whole way, I marveled at the terrific job the kayakers and surfers did to keep us from swimming out to sea, which would have happened, as we tried our best to avoid the contact from the frenzy of swimmers to our left.  The water was choppy and the swells large.  It was a big boy swim.  I enjoyed it. 

The first transition and the bike mount are always crazy.  Luckily, I spent seconds in the transition vs. minutes.  Not much to see in there.  The tent is filled with naked dudes doing all kinds of unmentionables with their get ups and electronic whatever’s as they get ready to go ride for half a day.  The ride up Kuakini was as dangerous as ever.  I had some clown drive me straight over an orange pylon as “on your left, excuse me, come right” meant nothing to him.  I hit the pylon at about 27 mph.  My front wheel popped up and I was thinking that this was not a good thing.  I threw all my weight aft like a mountain bike jump and just thought about staying upright.  Luckily, my front wheel only slid a few inches when I landed and I stayed on my bike.  There is a lesson here for my athletes- do not overinflate your tires.  Just because your tubular can be inflated to 150 psi, don’t do it.  If I had done that, I can guarantee you that I would have touched the floor when that overinflated wheel bounced off the asphalt.  So I pulled back up to this guy and let him know I was less than pleased, and for him to calm down and not be such a knucklehead.  Actually, that is a lie- I wire brushed him (navy term) rather harshly, drawing freely from the Jonser lexicon.  He told me to relax.  He didn’t care that he almost took me out.  Some triathletes are absolutely terrible bike handlers.  If you are going to be a terrible bike handler, stay right so you don’t endanger others.  To his credit, he apologized when I passed him on the Queen K and we had a pleasant exchange.   So the bike ride was brutal, windy, and everything Kona is supposed to be.  I survived.

This run course is by far my favorite.  The crowds in town are unbelievable.  It was great to see the smokin’ hot wife and my sister from another mother, Kaye Hert, in their lime green bikini tops and short zebra skirts.  I am motivated by chicks wearing next to nothing- its how I roll!  My buddy Paul was cheering at the top of his lungs, and always ran beside me for a few seconds when he would see me to offer words of encouragement- very much appreciated.  Bob Korock was all over the course and he had great things to say when I made the turn to Hawi and when I came back the other way.  He and Mark Pietrofesa were out on the Queen K when I went running by.  It helps a ton to have your buds out there, as the Queen K is a rugged stretch of running.  Bob was also there when I popped out of the Energy Lab.  Thanks Bob!  The run was long and hard, like it always is, and when I did finally get back into town, it was wonderful to see so many folks I know.  Simon Ward, Scott Greene, Sergio Borges, Denny Meeker, Linda Rahal, and a host of others were cheering their guts out for me.  A number of current and former military guys stepped out of the crowd, saluted me and cheered me on.  I saluted back and worked hard to keep from getting emotional when a young man saluted and said “well done shipmate!”   He was standing on two prosthetic legs.  It was this visual that reminded me that my challenge was for only a day…    

So there it is.  Another Kona is in the books.  We enjoyed a fantastic vacation here in paradise with two of our closest friends, Paul and Kaye.  I am rejuvenated from taking a mental break from work and seeing so many friends that I have gotten a chance to reunite with here on the island.  I go home renewed in a trust in myself that when things get really difficult that I won’t fold -that when tested there is absolutely no quit in me.  This stuff bleeds into your real life.  If you can muster the courage to persevere in the lava on the hard days, and you can endure the suffering that comes with that challenge, you can do the same in other aspects of your life, whether it is work, a challenge in your personal life, or any other aspect of your life that requires you to cowboy up and grind it out. 

As the vacation comes to a close, I now will get caught up on work and flying.  This afternoon I get the honor of presiding over and reading the oath of office, as we promote my navy teammate Cam to the rank of Lieutenant.  I love administering this oath to junior officers.  In my mind, I always recommit to that oath myself. 

 I plan on taking a few days off to reflect on what I can do better next year and then stand by- I am coming back stronger and fitter next year!

Train with joy or not at all!

Jonser

Kona Blog Post #3

This week in Kona has gone by in a paradise infused blur.  I was able to put in the last bit of my training here on the Big Island before pulling the pin earlier in the week.  The remainder of my days have been spent relaxing with short, sharp training sessions in the morning followed by coffee and catching up with friends. 

I was thinking today while I was swimming in the ocean what this race means to me.  I first came to notice this race when I was still in high school.  I remember watching Dave Scott and a Navy SEAL by the name of Chuck Newman battling it out on ABC's Wide World of Sports in one of the earliest Hawaii Ironmans.  I was instantly captivated by the event.  Ironman was always a sport I thought I would love to do.  I remember having pictures cut out of a Sports Illustrated magazine of Dave Scott, Mark Allen and a few others and having them taped in my navy locker while I was still a teenager.  The story on how I went from being a youth with these guys as my heroes to not even doing an ironman until I was 37 years old is a story to be told on a different day, but this morning I was thinking about how strange it is that I would admire those dudes from afar so long ago and now here I am getting ready to roll in my sixth Hawaii Ironman.  I am a big believer in the saying that if you can dream it you can do it. 

I was asked this morning by a friend on Facebook if I was nervous.  Nervous isn’t the word, but it is a word close to that.  Right now I am not sure what that word would be.  It is a mix of fear, anxiety, anticipation, excitement and a feeling of triumph. 

I think anyone who doesn’t experience a little tinge of fear coming into this race doesn’t know what is coming.  I respect this course and the difficulty of the day to come.  I fear the potential  what if’s out there.  What if I get a broken nose from an unlucky heel strike in the swim?  Broken orbital bone?  Broken goggles?  What if I get a front tire flat coming down off Hawi at high speed?  My response is-what if my sister had balls?  Well, she’d be my brother!  So I can intellectually move through the fear component.

I feel a bit of anxiety.  I think this is very normal for all triathletes coming into a big race.  We just want things to go smoothly and get it rolling.  I go to a “flat mind” and I can handle that one as well.  Anticipation and excitement are the emotions I am feeling the most intensely.  I am ready to roll and want to get in the water and hear the cannon go off.  I spoke a little in my first Kona blog this year on the triumph part.  I am literally just glad to be here.

Having done this race 5 times before, I know that this race cracks you wide open at some point and you get to look at a part of yourself you rarely get to see.  I have never completed an ironman here where at some point I didn’t genuinely wonder if I was going to finish.  I know there is pain coming.  I know there will be issues out there I will have to deal with in real time, be it mechanical, physical, mental, or all three.  At some point I am going to reach a level of genuine difficulty and get cracked wide open and get a real look deep inside and see what I am made of.   My hope is when I get to that point tomorrow and I have to go inside for a look, I am not disappointed.

There is a lot of chatter about the military boys this year.  This is by far the most talented field of dudes we have brought to the lava.  Cam Loos, Brad Williams and Rob Hilton are all the real deal and I would imagine all three are shooting for a sub nine hour effort.  I had a pro cyclist tell me one time that the first key to your own success is “to know how good you are not” and from that basis you can start building yourself into the athlete you could like to become.  That is where I am.  You will never hear me confused with a sub nine hour guy in Kona.  My PR here is 9:38 or so and I am realistic of my capabilities.  I cheer those younger guys on and I hope they all race out of their skulls and have the day they would like.  For me, it is not necessarily tied to time, but in full disclosure; I would love to go my fastest ever.  This island and the conditions can make this course completely different on any given day.  The wind and the heat one day can make the brutality of the course exponentially harder than a calmer, cooler day that could follow the very next day.  I am not that fussed about the predictions of tomorrow being an extremely difficult day with regard to heat and wind.  I have been able to summon up the toughness and strength to be successful on the brutal days in the past.  I am cautiously and respectfully confident that I will be able to do the same tomorrow. 

The whole race changes for me when I put on a navy race uniform.  I know that I am here to go fast, but I am here, more importantly, to be an ambassador for our service, our presence in the sport, my leadership with the other service members, and to continue to show how we military athletes race with honor and dignity.

So those are my goals for tomorrow- go as big as I can, be ready for what I find inside when it gets painful and hard, and above all- to race with honor and dignity.  You can look forward to me crossing that finish line happy with what I found on my day long journey and look for that sharp salute!

Shaka,
Jonser

Kona Blog Post #2

I have completely enjoyed my time thus far in Kona. After getting settled in, I have been able to get in my training, and more importantly, rest and recover as I get ready for Saturday's race. When it comes to rest, it is actually more important than the training during the last 10 days. My everyday schedule in normal life is pretty aggressive and dynamic. If there is one thing that is not optimal in my training, it is my ability to adequately rest the way that is appropriate for the amount of training I lay down week to week. This week has been great in that I have been able to truly rest. A couple of weeks ago, I was still training with a pretty considerable amount of volume, but my work travel was the same so there was definitely some sleep missed and have accumulated an appreciable amount of fatigue. Being able to lay around mid day and take big naps has been huge. This is one of the few times I allow myself to be lazy. It feels great!

There is definitely a buzz happening here in Kona this year. I always write about how the town comes alive slowly from the weekend prior through the week. I was commenting to a friend of mine yesterday that the crowds seem to be here a bit earlier this year. I don't remember it being this alive this soon. Of course, that could just be my perception and not the reality. I never get over how bloody fit everybody looks walking up and down the street. It is really something to see. I know of no other town where it is completely acceptable to cruise around town in nothing but a speedo. We swam at "Dig Me Beach" yesterday. It is always fun to get in and swim the course or portions of it. The most fun part is the people watching. I will start to lay low the further we get into this week, so as to stay off my legs and out of the heat, but it is really fun to check out the whole Ironman scene. It is something one has to see if they come to the race.

The race. As I get closer, I can tell I am getting more amped about getting this thing rolling. Our training gets shorter in duration with pieces of sharper intervals to both shed the fatigue from the big weeks of training while sharpening and ensuring we activate all three energy systems and recruit all our muscle groups to keep that engine idling for the big day Saturday. The key during a proper taper is to keep the engine idling without either removing the key and letting the engine stall or more likely, burning matches by getting excited about being here and digging into our fitness a little to ensure it is still there. The latter is very easy to do. As one feels better and more rested, the natural energy of this place, along with the caliber of athletes, creates the perfect environment to go harder than is appropriate.

The social side of this race is by far my favorite part of the pre race life. I have seen so many folks the last few days that I only see at the big races. Yesterday, I got the chance to meet up with one of my mentors in this sport and one of the guys I respect the most. Eric Hodska and I met while coaching a camp together almost 7 years ago. Eric is a personal trainer and triathlon coach from Connecticut. He is a family man and speaks non-stop about how crazy he is about his wife Lisa and kids. His balanced approach to our sport is something I really admire. It is very easy to go OCD about Ironman and start blocking out stuff in our life that is clearly more important. Eric does not make that mistake, yet is still one of the best age groupers around. He has competed here in the lava 9 times and his age group record still stands for his performance a few years back at Ironman Lake Placid. It was awesome to grab a cup of joe with him and solve the world's problems.

Another one of my mentors arrived last night and I cannot wait to see him today. I met Bob Korock through a mutual friend back in 2006 and he was my coach for over 2 years. I still reach out to him regularly to keep me on track and to ensure I am not doing anything stupid with my training. I have written a ton about Bob in the past and we coached a camp together in his home town of Lodi in 2011. Bob is a former pro, and in my opinion, one of the true sages in our sport and in my life. We text back and forth all the time and our friendship gets deeper each year. I dig that.

That leads me to a topic that just dropped into my grape. One of my anchor themes these days is authenticity. Authenticity is a key component to how I want to live my life. I want to be authentic in all I do. Inauthentic relationships are no way to go about life, if you are asking me. Twelve years ago or so, I used to do some negotiating and collective bargaining for a major union in my profession. My major take away from that role was the temporary and tenuous nature of the friendships formed. Those friendships all hinged on what my positions were on various issues, and a good number of the folks I dealt with were solely my friends based on my role within the union. What a bullshit way to go through life. I apologize to bluntly spurt it out in such vulgar terms, but that is exactly what that life was for me-bullshit. I want a life that is authentic! What you see is what you get. If you are talking with me or we are training, flying, whatever- it is authentic and real. That is what I enjoy with the friendships I enjoy today- they are authentic. The two gents I mentioned this morning are exactly that, and that is why I love my life.

Today should be another dream day here in Kona. I plan on running and swimming and continuing to sharpen up for Saturday. I am excited what today will hold, as every day has held something to truly be happy about. The sun comes up in an hour and then I will get out there on the road. I can't wait to get this day rolling!

Shaka,
Jonser

Kona 2012. Me? I am just digging the ride.

It is hard to believe I am on a jet to Kona this evening. It seems like yesterday I was talking with a friend of mine, who is also a coach, and I was telling him I thought that I might not have a season at all this year. In February I was really struggling to get in 7-8 hours of training in a week. My work commitments and travel schedule were pretty aggressive and I had, yet again, found myself training in the seams of my life, instead of it being a normal part of my daily routine. I was really struggling with my motivation to train, along with the reality that my life was filling up with so many "have to's" that my "want to's" were getting squeezed out of the schedule.

I don't do well when I am not fit. I think about it non-stop and it adversely affects my morale. As the year progressed, I came to the conclusion that if I am not training regularly and am not in decent condition with regard to my fitness, why am I signing up for any races at all? It was then that I made the adjustment in my schedule and my season started to come together. By April, I had gotten myself into decent early season shape and raced respectably in a local Olympic distance race down in Texas. This was the boost that I needed all winter. Things started to come together after that. My fitness was still slow in coming, but with some help from my friend, Scott Davis, I started to put things together. A call from the Navy Triathlon coach, Jim Felty, really motivated me when he asked me to not only coach this year's squad, but would I send in an application as an athlete. To be very honest, I thought my days of actually racing as an All-Navy team member were over. I am almost 48 years old and ITU draft legal racing was never my bag, but especially not something I would think I'd be doing now in a crowd of young military elites.

The short story is all of this lead to me showing up ready to go at Armed Forces National Championships and rolling my best time ever. I had gone faster in 2006, but the course was a bit short that year, so my 1:58 in June was very encouraging. I also PR'd at Eagleman 70.3 and now was starting to think good thoughts about Ironman Canada coming in August. As I was just about to start my taper for Canada, I received another call from the All-Navy coach. It was very disappointing to hear that our All-Navy Ironman selectee, Nick Brown had crashed and broken his elbow and wrist. I was genuinely heart broken for Nick. Nick is a fantastic young navy officer, who I have written about before in my blog. He, and a few other navy officers like Cam Loos, are the future of the Navy Ironman teams. These disciplined and gifted athletes have yet to go as fast as they will in the coming years. As things go in my life, Coach Felty asked me if I was fit and could I represent Navy at the Hawaii Ironman. I told him I was quite fit and would be honored to once again represent my service at this prestigious race. So that is how I found myself on my way to Kona this year.

I honestly believe that my fastest races in the lava are in front of me, too. So why do I think that I will go faster in the future? There are a bunch of reasons, but the major ones are that my life is really starting to settle down. My personal life is beyond wonderful. I have a lovely home life with my wife, best friend, training partner and soul mate, Teresa. We live a simple and quiet life in Boulder. We both feel we have hit the jackpot living there. Another reason I think my racing will improve, is I switched to a plant-based diet (vegan) 6 months ago and the results for me have been amazing. My recovery, sleep quality, and wellness have changed dramatically. I have leaned out and feel I am at my optimum or close to optimum body weight at 152lbs. That is 10-13 lbs lighter than I raced in 2009 or 2010. Lastly, the major reason is that I have made a conscious decision to carve out that space in my life to make room for the thing that I truly love to spend my days doing-triathlon. I no longer train in the seams. I don't make any excuses or avoid the question. I schedule in my training into my daily calendar and I am open about it. In the past, I have been a bit self conscious about admitting that I regularly train on the north side of 20 hours per week. Yes, it is true, I have to say no to a few more work commitments. I had to commit to getting up earlier in the morning to get in my training. I have also had to ratchet up my time management skills to continue to have the capacity to be successful at 3 jobs while being Ironman fit.

So when I get off the jet tonight in Kona, this season is already a success. I am stepping onto the island in literally the best shape I have ever been. My personal life and work life are the best they have ever been. I am the healthiest I have ever been. Lastly, I am the happiest and the most content I have ever been. I want for nothing. I am scary fit, my wife digs me, I am closer to my friends than ever, and I love living every day. We never know when the journey will end, so we better dig it while we can. Me? I am digging the ride more than ever.

Shaka,
Jonser

Kona 2011 Part 2- Life in my sport. Why?

I am often asked how I can train and race while having three jobs. It is a challenge, to be honest. The logistics of having a few careers along with training daily can be a real grind- and I would not have it any other way. I am on my path. I have said it in past posts in this blog- I love my life in this sport. It forces a strict regimentation into my life that I find comforting and fulfilling. Obviously, I would not be in my 30th year of military service if I did not enjoy a little structure.

I love the routine and life rhythm of training and racing. It is fun to think how and where I am going to get in my training. As one who lives a good portion of life on the road, figuring out how that training is going to take place is a huge challenge. It is also hugely rewarding when I do get that training in there with everything else I have going on. I sometimes have to train tired after flying all day. From an exercise science perspective, it isn’t optimum, but a lot of things in life are not optimum. Life is frenetic, confusing, and can be wrought with mistakes…and so is some of my training. As I get older, it gets easier as I have figured out how better to do things, but it is never perfect. What in life is?

On the drive back from Buffalo Springs, Teresa and I had a very long talk about why we still race triathlons. We both had unsatisfying efforts. T was forced to DNF due to sickness and I was run down by two athletes in my AG after having been in the lead of the race for 4 hours. The travel, the money, the time training, the pre-race nervousness, the obvious suffering that takes place in long, hot, difficult races- why? T and I are in our late 40’s and early 50’s. Why the forced, unnecessary pain? We spent hours driving through the northwestern part of Texas breaking our sport down in great detail. The answer we came up with is that in the rigor of racing and training hard, one can often find their “best self”.

Your best self is that part of you that surfaces when you draw from deep within to find strength, courage, and toughness and the other personal qualities one needs to make it through this life and avoid the enduring downward pull toward mediocrity. The demands of living a life in this sport forces a person to continue to work on finding their best self. In order to set the table in your life to find that best self requires that you build a system for living that facilitates finding the extraordinary in yourself- every damn day. If you can find it in Ironman, you can find it in love, work, and any area you need to. I have come to embrace all areas in my life at the same temperature I approach Ironman. I believe I am better for it. Ironman, like real life, never gets easy. You have to continue to try harder every day. The results are extremely satisfying when you do succeed and infuriatingly maddening when you don’t. It is in that tension between success and failure where the contest of life truly resides.

In addition to constantly searching for your best self, other reasons for continuing to live a life in this sport are the authentic friendships in which I am blessed to be a part. Some of my best buds are in my triathlon community. Obviously, I am blessed with a tight navy network of dudes that are my dear friends for life. Triathlon has also provided me with a “bro network” of wonderful and authentic folks with whom I like to stay in close touch. Along with those close buds, the overall community of folks we see at races is really fun. Big events like Kona really drive that home. It was such a pleasure to walk through town this week and re-unite with so many wonderful people from our Ironman life. Aussies, Kiwi’s, Brits, Americans, South Africans, Austrians, Germans, Brazilians, Canadians, and Portuguese- our triathlon friend network is literally global. I find that part of our sport to be fantastic.

So there it is. Life in this sport is an exercise in finding your best self. Along the way, it is very likely you will find a bunch of epic friends to help you in that search. The thought of that makes me feel at home in a sport that I have decided to invest a sizable portion of my life.

Jonser

Kona Blog 2011 Part 1- Ironman. It can be a freak show, but it is my kind of freak show!

I seem to not feel the urge to blog much when I am not at race venues. When I am at these epic venues such as Kona, my grape fills with perspective on a number of topics. Obviously, this week it is mostly on Ironman and life in this sport.
Teresa arrived here last Thursday and I followed on Sunday after work. It is good to be back on the Big Island for this race. I am not racing this year. Teresa is here to compete in her 11th Kona and her 24th Ironman overall. In my opinion that is pretty remarkable. It comes at a cost, but she continues to love the sport, as do I.

There is a lot to love about this sport. The lifestyle, the race venues, and the types of people this sport attracts are what keep me fired up on Ironman. I would have to say that there is a freak show aspect to Kona, but it’s my kind of freak show. I dig it. I can only imagine what some folks think if they have never been around a big triathlon and this crowd rolls into town. The streets are lined with tanned ectomorphs with their shaved legs, skintight everything, knee high compression socks, and the obligatory M- dot (ironman corporate logo) tattoo on their ankles. Many are sporting a minimum of two watches on their arms so they can track their every move by GPS, monitor their heart rate, and count their kilojoules of energy expended. I’m not kidding. They track their energy expended and measure it in kilojoules to come up with a TSS. I forget what TSS stands for (I think it is Total Stress Score). I have athletes that report theirs to me. It is a 1 percent solution for all but the really big volume boys, and I deal in 90 percent solutions. With ironman training, it is a basic JFT prescription for most folks. JFT is a quote from a couple of mentors of mine. It stands for Just F—kin Train. I find with most, that if they consistently JFT, they hit every athletic benchmark they can set for themselves.

So let us get back to the freak show. Walking around Dig Me Beach here in Kona in the morning is an epic freak show, but I love it. You see everything. This morning was the Underpants Run. A couple of famous US coaches, who are married to a couple of former champions of this race, conduct this run at a few Ironman races around the world. It is a kick to watch. Folks show up in their underwear and run like an army platoon around town, perform funny calisthenics and various group running drills. You see just about anything you can imagine in these runs. It is hilarious. This morning, there were small kids running with their dads, in public, in completely crazy underwear. All part of the freak show-my freak show.

On the whole, when you come to these races you see very committed athletes who are the best 1,700 in the world, along with some lottery folks and CEO’s who pay their way in. I live in Boulder and get to see the pros train on a daily basis up close, with a few of them being my good friends. I respect the pros, but that is their job. I have a huge appreciation for the working age group athlete. They are the backbone of this sport. They pay the exorbitant entry fees so that these races happen, they buy the products that support the companies that sponsor these events, and their story is the one I am most interested in telling.

Ironman is on a lot of folks’ bucket list. It is a stop on their journey of self discovery, and I think that is the coolest. I have to admit that is not where I am. Ironman is not a stop on the journey, it is a destination. This is my sport. This is my freak show. I have wanted to compete in this sport for as long as I can remember, and I love being here. I hope to be here for a lifetime.

More later.
Jonser