I’ve gotten a lot of questions about doing the triathlon. So I thought I’d answer some of them here plus tell you a little more about what it was like.

My motivation for the whole thing came from the feeling that I had the potential to be a good athlete but had never actually attempted anything. I had participated in one charity bike ride when I was 18 and that’s pretty much all I could point to and be proud of. I have a few friends who have done triathlons and the sprint distance races never seemed impossible to me. But putting it all together sounded like a huge test of endurance. In November, I decided to upgrade to a nicer gym that had a pool and part of my reasoning was that now I could train for what was then a hypothetical triathlon. About the same time my friend Claire joined the same chain of gyms and she had the same mild aspirations for trying a race. Together we pushed each other into making it a reality.

All winter we worked out together and created our own training by combining days of running and biking or biking and swimming at the gym. We didn’t have much for daily goals but we got comfortable with the work. I was an awful swimmer in the beginning. It took me weeks to work out the rust and remember my childhood classes. We asked our friends with experience for advice and my friend Matt let us borrow a book he had. In March we signed up for the Webster Lake Triathlon. We figured a race in June would be mildly warm and it gave us plenty of time to train for the .5 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run event.

In April we started following an 11 week training course for beginners outlined in Matt’s book. The early weeks were easy. We were more than ready for 1 mile runs, 5 mile bike rides, and 8 laps in the pool. I had some pain in my right calf muscle so I decided to take advantage of a personal trainer who worked in my building. I started meeting with John once a week for strength training and to get advice. I knew I was someone who’d need to be reminded to work with weights in addition to my regular training. It was an expensive choice but I think it really helped to keep me disciplined and strong.

The nicer weather in April meant that we could do more training outside. I bought a ultra lightweight racing bike, which intimidated the hell out of me for a while. I learned how to use my pedal clips and cycling shoes and I started to feel more comfortable on it as I explored our neighborhood and towns nearby. Chris started joining me on weekend runs and Claire and I continued to cycle and run together. I kept up my swimming at the gym and became more comfortable with that as well. When I traveled for work, I did what I could to keep up my running and used the hotel gym. Before I knew it, May was gone; it was June, and the race was three weeks away. Things like 18 mile bike rides and 4 mile runs became part of my routine and I was doing way more in training than I ever thought I could do regularly.

A week before the race, I started going back over tips offered in the book and looking for advice online. I decided to buy a suit designed for triathlons since I didn’t have much for clothes that I could compete in comfortably. I started paying more attention to the weather reports and the forecast wasn’t good. The whole time I didn’t change my diet much but I tried to avoid alcohol the week before. The day before the race we were at a wedding and my options were limited so I stuck to mostly the meats and simple carbs like rolls (what a great excuse for an extra large slice of wedding cake) and washed it down with water.

The night before the race, Chris and I checked out the site and drove the bike portion. I had heard there was a huge hill but I didn’t know much more. It really helped to see what I was in for, in person. The hill was huge and came in four parts but what really jangled my nerves was the steep ride back down with a 90 degree turn at the bottom. For dinner we went to Wendy’s and I had a grilled chicken wrap and a baked potato along with almost a liter of Gatorade. We spent the night in a hotel close to the race and I barely caught a wink between worrying about the hill and the weather over the noise of the AC kicking in and out.

On race day, we got up early and got moving. Breakfast was a Powerbar chased by what remained of the Gatorade. The sky was dull gray and the weather was cool with a mist keeping things damp. We got to the site at quarter to seven, with a little over an hour before the race. I dutifully checked off my list of to-dos: retrieve race packet, get arms and legs marked up with race numbers, set up bike and gear in transition area, put air in my tires, and fill my water bottle. Claire and I met up and set up our stuff together. Since we registered together and were in the same age group, we had consecutive race numbers and could share a spot in the transition area. Bev and Erin, Chris’s mom and sister, came out to Webster that morning to help Chris cheer us on.

With fifteen minutes to go, our little group walked the quarter mile road down to the lake to get into position. Claire and I were hyper with anxiety and took a few photos to try to look confident but we didn’t fool anyone. We handed our shoes over to Chris and family, donned our swim caps, and headed over to join our group of women in the fourth heat. A little more than half of the participants had wet suits and this worried us even more. How much were we going to suffer by deciding not to bring one? The lake was dotted with buoys and we tried to make sense of what the course would be but the announcements overhead were muddled and hard to understand.

Shortly after 8am, the gun went off and the first group swam off. Every three minutes another heat would take off and we watched them swim out further and further to the first buoy. Eventually it was our turn to wade into the water and jump and splash to warm up. The water was cooler than the air but not frigid. The last few seconds ticked down and then we were off. I ran out to my waist then dumped over and started paddling out. I tried to get into my well-rehearsed freestyle stroke, but was surprised by how scared I was to put my head under the choppy water. It was cold, dark and chaotic. I’ve swam in lakes before, but always on sunny days where the light could penetrate deep into the clear water. I looked around and most people were keeping their heads above water and paddling as best they could. Some had flipped over into backstroke. Halfway to the first buoy, I could hear someone yell for help behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a kayaker move in her direction. I tried to make myself do three good strokes before I would stop and go back to paddling along. I kept moving by trying to do a few proper strokes and then would break to look around and make sure I wasn’t going to wander off course. The older men and team swimmers were the heat behind us and I knew in three minutes they’d start catching up and passing me. I was half way to the second buoy when I started getting swum around. I could usually feel them coming and tried to stay out of their way. Once they were past me I tried to follow their lead and that gave me the courage to keep going. In under twenty minutes, I made it back to shore and ran up the beach to the timing mats where my time was recorded using a chip on a Velcro strap wrapped around my ankle.

My little entourage was on the beach cheering me on. They raced over as I picked up my flip flops. Claire hadn’t come out yet so they stayed behind for her while I ran back to the transition area to get ready for the bike ride. I dipped my sandy feet into my bucket and struggled to put on my socks while standing up. The weather had held off raining but it was still gray and I was happy I had sunglasses with orange lenses to help me see clearly. Claire joined me just as I was putting on my shoes and I waited a minute while she got her gear. Within a few moments we were on our bikes headed out on the road.

The cycling course was entirely on roads open to vehicles. Luckily, regular training had gotten me used to checking over my shoulder for traffic. The course was mild except for mile 4 where we started to push up the hill. I knew it came in four parts and I yelled out when I knew we’d need to pick up momentum to power through. After much heaving and pushing, we got to the top and I tried to brush my nerves aside for the part that terrified me. I let the downhill slope take over and tried not to rely too heavily on my brakes as I kept telling myself that the faster I went, the sooner it would be over. Volunteers along the course called out to be careful and helped distract me a little from completely freaking out. At the bottom, I managed to slow down with control and make the delicate right turn. The next part I knew was a flat straightaway so I hit my gears to take advantage of long strong strokes that would give me the most power. There was a slight delay and when I hit my gears again by mistake; my chain fell off my front cogs. Cursing, I pulled over and struggled to flip the bike over to fix it. Luckily, Claire was right behind me and helped me get the chain back on in a minute. The rest of the ride was smooth sailing as we pushed through the mild country hills and came back around the lake to the transition area.

To get ready for our 3 mile run we racked our bikes, switched to sneakers, and grabbed a little water and nutrition. I used a raspberry flavored energy gel and Claire ate half a Powerbar. With a little wave to Erin and Bev, while Chris clicked photos, it was off to the running course. My legs were a little wobbly for the first mile and I was tired but we kept pushing each other on. It seemed like the halfway point for the run would never come, but eventually we circled around and started working on the home stretch. We sprinted the last few yards hard and hit the finish line with big smiles on our face.

With the race a few days behind me now, I feel kind of empty without a goal to work on. The let down has been even bigger than after the wedding. I’m really glad I finished in under two hours. I think I might have an hour and thirty minute finish in me one day if I work really hard and do a lot more races. I’m wondering if I should sign up for another race in July or August or September. On Sunday Claire seemed kind of iffy on if she’d do another one. Matt has offered to do the next one with me. I think it’d be fun to try it with him since it would be a very different race. I’m really pleasantly surprised that Claire and I got to do our first race while sticking together. I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything. I know Matt and I would be separated and I’d be on my own. It was a great first race and it’s a relief that all my worries about the hill and the weather and about my stamina were put to rest. I was surprised by how most of the participants were older than me (some had thirty years on me!) and 95% of them beat the pants off me. It makes me really want to start working now on becoming a stronger and better competitor so I can join their leagues.

A selection of photos from our trip to AZ have been uploaded to Flickr:

Succinct synopsis:

It’s just a bunch of senseless noise to some people. But I really believe that this group is inventing an all-new kind of music, and it’s simply brilliant. It’s a sound that asks us to reconsider how we define everything that music is, from chord structure and patterns to rhythms, lyrics and the way it makes us feel.

Musings: 2009 Already Better Than 2008

If you’re look for something a little (ok, very) different, give ‘Merriweather Post Pavillion‘ a whirl.

My Girls (video) – Animal Collective

Mark the date — on Friday night, over a glass (or three) of wine at this little Mediterranean-inspired restaurant in Cambridge, Amanda relented. I’m getting my turntable.

Alright, “relented” isn’t the right word considering she never truly opposed the idea in the first place — though she certainly did express some hesitation at the prospect that I might end up like Rob Gordon from High Fidelity.

She confessed that she had been planning this as a birthday gift for some time but feared that I wouldn’t hold out until June. So, to give credit where credit is due: that would have been an awesome gift.

Her sincerity was sealed when she came home yesterday with an old Commodore reissue of some Billie Holiday classics and a single of Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover”.

I took the plunge this morning and ordered a nice starter set.

I like the idea of having a collection of my select favorites on hand as LPs for a couple of reasons.

For one, my music library is entirely digital. In our last move, we hefted two full boxes of empty jewel cases around. Its just ridiculous for me to perpetuate that kind of clutter when I do the vast majority of my listening at the computer or on my iPod. Even my home stereo is wired into my PC, so with the exception of my commute, I have very little need for a physical CD anymore (even then I can just plug in my iPod).

That said, I lose out on the tangible aspect — physically choosing an album to listen to, absorbing the artwork, and leafing through the lyrics. It makes listening an experience rather than a pastime. And with music having evolved into the one activity that I might consider a true hobby, it’s that experience that I’m looking to explore.

Furthermore, music is all about the album. That can be a pretty provocative statement in the age of the MP3 but, for me, it’s true. While I’m certainly not opposed to the ole “random” function, I never buy individual tracks. There’s just something so scattered, so incomplete about the notion of not experiencing an album in its entirety. Many argue that, with the advent of digital distribution, artists and labels have repurposed the album as a large collection of singles. There may be some truth to that but since when must an album have some cohesive concept that strings all of the tracks along?

An album is about a snapshot in time — it’s about some point in creative-space that a musician happened to occupy when some collection of songs were conceived. A detective doesn’t make a case on a single piece of evidence, nor should a listener draw some conclusion based on a single song. The notion of being able to sit down and absord an album, in full, is one that’s very appealing to me.

It’s a simple novelty but its breathing new life into vinyl even as the CD takes its last gasps. With many labels offering free MP3 downloads with LP purchases, I expect there to be quite a few new adopters of this old technology over the coming years.

Hot dog! With one of these, all you’ll need are a pair of Air Jordans and a fresh hi-top fade and you’ll be ready to hit the streets.

I have a parking dilemma at work that’s causing me some pretty intense anguish. It’s wintertime in New England so naturally our building’s lot sports its share of ice and snow. Normally a non-issue, people just park right over it, except for the fact that the one car (native to my lot region) that arrives to work before I do is apparently desperately afraid of the elements and decides to park like a dillhole every morning. Please note exhibit A.

Now, my dilemma isn’t the fact that this guy should have just parked over the ice if he so desperately had to be one spot closer to the building. My issue lies in determining the proper ettiquete for choosing my spot in said region under such circumstances.

My options, as I see it, are the following:

I consistently choose Option B. My reasoning being that equal space is wasted in both options thus I must err on the side of order. In Option B, the rest of the cars can file in neatly whereas Option A would result in all cars having to park over the lines.

Hell there’s even still room to fit a motorcycle, a bag of money, and a boom box!

Nevertheless, I still despair that there may be a flaw in my logic and the rest are just cursing me through the veil of parking lot anonymity. Which option would you choose? Is there any argument for Option A?

It seems like every magazine article or op-ed piece that I read about our Great Recession starts with some variation of the following:

“Who’s to blame for this mess? Some Wall Street douchebag, some CEO douchebag, …and YOU!“

I may know little more than diddly about the economy but I assure you that I had nothing to do with its downfall and I’m pretty sick of being lumped in with those that did.

I’m very grateful for the fact that my wife and I are able to provide a comfortable living for ourselves but part of living comfortably is understanding your limits. We carry very little debt, month-to-month, beyond the essentials (e.g. school loans). We paid for our wedding in cash. We didn’t go running out to buy an overpriced home at the moment we thought we might have an inkling of a chance at qualifying for a mortgage. It’s just about being responsible. When Amanda and I wanted to move into a nicer albeit more expensive apartment, we didn’t just eat the loss. We cut back in certain areas (cable bill, et al) to make up the difference.

People feel as though they’re entitled to drive a hot car or own a home with two bedrooms too many when, in fact, they’re entitled to nothing. I feel like a cranky old man saying this but what happened to earning what you have? I rode the crest of the dot com wave into college with delusions of striking it rich but when that pipe dream fades you have to pull your head out of the clouds and pay your fucking bills.

Something needs to be said for those that live within their means. There are people out there that are making responsible decisions and they’re better off for it as they try to weather through this thing. There’s a lot of blame to go around for this recession but it sure as hell shouldn’t fall on you.