Tuesday, August 31, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog # 35

The Ironman bib numbers were recently released. I will be #104 on your scorecards and #1 in your hearts.

I specifically asked the Ironman event organizers not to start with #100 and issue numbers sequentially based on looks and charm. Obviously, my request was callously disregarded. I’m not sure if George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Dr. McDreamy are ready for the 140.6 miles of challenge the day holds, but nonetheless it will be fun toeing the starting line with these dudes in my posse.

Truthfully, I Googled “104” to see if the number had any significance. Here’s a partial verse from Psalm “104:”

“He lays the beams of his chambers on the waters;
he makes the clouds his chariot;
he rides on the wings of the wind.”

I’m thinking my much needed divine intervention is numerically in sync with #104.

Taper-time has been nearly as idyllic as I originally expected. That is no doubt a reflection on my naivety and ignorance. I anticipated rest-filled days with leisurely workouts followed by gluttonous consumption of food and beverage. The reality of my taper has been quite different. Saturday was a 75 minute swim, followed by a 1.5 hour bike ride. Sunday’s workout included a 3.5 hour bike ride, followed by a 65 minute run.

The logistics surrounding the Ironman are an endurance event in and of themselves. In addition to travel arrangements, bike transportation and hotel accommodations, there’s pre-event meal planning, nutrition, rest, bike pumps, spare tubes, CO2 cartridges, body glide, swim suit, wetsuits, goggles, T1 bag (biking shorts, Team 4 jersey, chamois butter, socks, bike shoes, helmet, gloves, sunglasses, biking shoes and electrolyte tablets, gels, bars, hydration and food),  bike special need’s bag, T2 bag (running shorts, running shoes, running socks, hat, sunscreen) run special need’s bag (socks, nutrition, warmer clothing for the cooler evening temperatures) and then the ancillary planning involved with out-of-town family, guests, friends and well-wishers.

I do believe a cruel irony associated with the Ironman is that priority sign-up for next year’s race is the Saturday before the actual event.

I am racing the Ironman for Team 4 and their efforts to help those whose lives and/or the lives of their loved ones have been impacted by the four cancers primarily affecting women: breast cancer, cervical cancer, uterine cancer and ovarian cancer.

Anyway, September 12th is quickly approaching and time is dwindling for me to prepare, taper and for you to donate. So please log on and donate now: https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=330383&supID=298775840

No donation is too small and each will help win the race against cancer. Thank you in advance.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, August 16, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 - Robin’s Ironman Blog #32

As the early mornings become lighter later, the kids playing on the neighborhood ball fields switch from baseball to football and back to school sales on television battle for attention amidst the clutter of the ever-so-annoying political ads; the thought occurred to me that Ironman will soon be here. Damn, time to start training I guess….

Actually, it will soon be time to start tapering. Taper-time is that wonderful time of the year when the months of training, the hours on the bike, the endless laps in the pool and the miles running are in the rearview mirror. Taper-time is when the body rests, restores and reinvigorates in preparation for race day magic. I’m guessing my Taper-time will equal the excitement of Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, New Years and birthdays. Look soon in the “social expressions” section of your favorite retailer for “Happy Taper” cards from Hallmark. (And the one thing that makes “Taper-time” only slightly less cool than “Hammer-time” are “hammer pants” – those wickedly fashionable long pants tapered at the ankle, with side flaps on the hip that button at the waist – while “Taper-time” only has nerdy compression wear in its closet.)

For me, Taper-time can’t come soon enough. Last Saturday, my training plan called for seven hours on the bike, followed by a run. Yep, you read it right, seven-frigging hours!  After Saturday’s ride, I have become a medical marvel with a soon-to-be-named after me condition that will be forever hence be known as “saddle-straddle-itis.” I believe no further explanation is needed – lest I subject myself to a rash of cruel jokes.

This week, on Wednesday I have my last long run of 2.5 plus hours. Next Saturday, I will be on the Ironman course and swim 2.4 miles, followed by riding the 112 miles of hills which nature carved out of glacial remains as a kind of latent “gotcha” to test triathletes’ mettle, resolve, fitness, skill and sense of humor. (I’m counting on my sense of humor to carry me because I am a little scant when it comes to fitness and skill and “mettle” is a really dorky word.)

Over the past couple of weeks, my training has average 16 hours per week. Truth be told, I have loved every minute of it.

That’s why I am no longer an “endurance athlete.” You see, “endurance” infers pain, suffering, hardship, stress, fatigue and adversity. I have read much, listened well, talked little and studied hard from those triathletes like Emily and Coach Heather who have so willingly given of themselves and shared their wisdom. Each has emphasized the importance of being mentally prepared, being positive, focusing and embracing challenges.

Thus, I have re-titled myself and all other triathletes, marathoners, ultra-marathoners and those who compete in similar distance events as “epic athletes.” Yep, “epic athletes” – athletes overcoming adversity with larger-than-life feats of accomplishments in impressive, ambitious and grand endeavors. 

But Epic athletes are not heroes. True heroes are those whose lives and/or the lives of their loved ones have been touched by the ravages of cancer. These true heroes are in a race they didn’t choose to sign up for, a race you can’t train for in advance and a race with an undefined finish line. These true heroes have borne untold hardships as they courageously face each day with uncertainty, hope, faith and an unwavering determination to endure and to win.

My race is dedicated to Team 4 and raising money for those true heroes. Please donate @ https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=330383&supID=298775840

So if you’ve liked these blogs, donate. If you’ve hated these blogs, donate and I will promise to only write a couple more.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, August 09, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 - Heroes Among Us

The true endurance heroes aren’t the ones who have the good fortune, time, health, resources and support network to line-up at the start of an Ironman Triathlon.

True heroes are those whose lives and/or the lives of their loved ones have been touched by the ravages of cancer. These true heroes are in a race they didn’t choose to sign up for, a race you can’t train for in advance and a race with an undefined finish line. These true heroes have borne untold hardships as they courageously face each day with uncertainty, hope, faith and an unwavering determination to endure and to win.

On September 12th, I will race 140.6 miles for these heroes: in celebration for those who have won, in memory of those who have lost, in support of those who will follow and in hope that the cancer race will soon be over - forever. My race will be dedicated to help raise monies to help find a cure for the four cancers primarily affecting women: breast cancer, cervical cancer, uterine cancer and ovarian cancer.

I am asking that you consider joining me on race day and teaming up to help beat cancer.

My race will be dedicated to grandmothers, moms, daughters, sisters, cousins, aunts, friends, in-laws and co-workers who one day found they were entered into the biggest race ever without a choosing to do so, without understanding why and with the time-clock ticking. My race will be dedicated to their grandparents, parents, siblings, children, friends, in-laws, and caregivers whose lives were changed, whose sacrifices were many, whose prayers were bountiful and who heroically offered race-day support everyday.

My race will be dedicated to help TEAM 4 whose mission statement is: “TEAM 4 is committed in the race to fight cancer.  We will inspire women to live healthy lifestyles in all we do.  We believe that education; early detection and support will lead to more lives free of cancer.”

All proceeds from TEAM 4’s efforts will help fund important research at the Medical College of Wisconsin Cancer Center. The Cancer Center exists to provide quality education, research and patient care, leading to the prevention and cure of cancer.  In just five seasons through grassroots efforts, TEAM 4 has raised nearly $125,000 to fund in these research projects. With your help, we can move closer and eventually win this race.

Because my race is a triathlon, I am asking three things:

1.) Please consider writing a check – The (tax deductible) check (no amount is too small or too large) is payable to:
Medical College of Wisconsin (Team 4 on the memo line) and mailed to:
Robin Gohsman
W342 N 4870 W. Lindy Lane
Nashotah, WI 53058

Or donate online: https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorreg/donorpledge.asp?ievent=330383&supID=298775840

2.) Please consider forwarding this message to those in your circle in hopes that they might join the race and pass this forward too.

3.) Please offer your prayers of support for those in the race against cancer, your prayers of thanksgiving for those who have won this race and your prayers of strength for the family, friends and loved ones who have lost someone dear to cancer.

My goal is to raise $14,060.00. That’s $100.00 for each of the 140.6 miles I will travel that day. Thank you very much for your consideration and your hopeful contribution to support the heroes among us.

Robin

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Monday, August 02, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 - Robin’s Ironman Blog #30

As I ramp up the final leg of my training regimen for my September 12 date with destiny; I find myself preparing mentally as well as physically for the rigors of an event that will likely last longer than my aggregate studying time in college. Fortunately, I have a simple mind that can only comprehends three things at a time, which coincidentally coincides with the triathlon theme. These groups of three people and three words are who and what I will be thinking about on race day – a day starting before most people get up in the morning and likely ending after they’ve already retired for the night. So here goes my:

“Ode to Threes”

Swim. Bike. Run.
2.4. 112. 26.2

Pain is temporary.
Cramp. Bonk. Puke.

Pride is forever.
Finish 140.6!

Know no limits.
Kristy. Jenny. Robin.

Never dream small.
Tommy. Jori. Oscar.

Life is awesome.
Jimmy. Andy. Chuck.

Think. Feel. Be.
Brian. Mike. Kristine.

Knowledge is power.
Heather Lynn Haviland

Never stop discovering.
Emma. Max. Jackson.

Desire. Dream. Do.
Madeline. Mara. Ella.

Own the moment.
Mallory. Alex. Steve.

Live in wonderment.
Katie. Deb. Mike.

Believe you can.
Trish. Tina. Jill.

For healthy kids.
Kris. Judy. Stacie.

Friends to meet.
Kelly. Paula. Shawn.

Be the change.
Cory. Heidi. Jane.

Live. Laugh. Love.
Emily Ann Kratz.

Never stop believing.
Danny. Frances. Joey.

Be young forever.
Bill. John. Tom.

Great brand ambassadors.
Mike, Kristin Kiss.

Chris’ merry men.
Tim. Pete. Dan.

Best friend ever.
My wife Mary.

Life is good
Blessed to tri!

And so, shortly after the event is over, those three words sayings will fade into a faint and blurred memory, much like the knowledge I didn’t really retain from my college accounting classes. The people will stay with me forever, as each and everyone has touched, inspired, loved, taught, motivated, challenged and helped me.

Thanks. Gracias. Merci.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, July 26, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #28

Today, I am not an Ironman. I am a Luckyman!

After last week’s 70.3 and my inaugural finish of a triathlon distance extending beyond a single zip code; many of you graciously complemented me on the accomplishment. I am very grateful for your words of encouragement. Thank you.

One of the serendipitous benefits of being slow on the bike is the extended solitude the day provides. While other competitors were furiously pedaling and zipping through transition with the speed and dexterity of the Roadrunner, I pedaled with a cadence not too dissimilar from that of the Wizard of Oz’s demonic Miss Gulch as she road away with Toto in her wicker basket. This extra time gave me time to reflect and thus re-title myself, “Luckyman.”

I am Luckyman because of: replacements – while many of my contemporaries are faced with hip and knee replacements; my replacements concern lost water bottles, electrolytes and CO2 cartridges for tire tubes. The gift of health is precious.

I am Luckyman because of: my business partner – Even if Chris didn’t tower over me height-wise, I would still look up to him. He is intelligent, creative, committed and passionate about health and wellness with a heart bigger than his massive hands. Plus, he and his fellow “merry men of the mountain” were too cute.

I am Luckyman because of: the Body Basix team – I can’t imagine a more talented, dedicated, professional and fun group who tirelessly work together to help bring forward products and programs to help you reach your health and wellness potential. Cory, Jane, Heidi, Shawn, Mary, Michele and Kristy – I am grateful for the privilege to work with you.

I am Luckyman because of: you – It is because of you that I am able to wake up each morning with enthusiasm and excitement and go to a job that I love. It is immensely rewarding.

I am Luckyman because of: Coach Heather – A triathlon combines a swim, bike and run into a single event. Heather combines beauty, knowledge and professionalism into a journey that results in fun, challenges, improvement and self-discovery. And Heather does it with a true passion for her profession and deep compassion for her athletes.

I am Luckyman because of: new friends – Too many to mention individually, but a special thanks to Bill, Jill, Deann, Craig, John and Emily (is this kind of like a gratitude journal, Em?) You each nspire me and my life is enriched because of you. Thanks for the gift of our friendship.

I am Luckyman because of: my family – Our family motto is the “we put the fun in dysfunctional” but I am truly blessed to have absolutely the most wonderful daughters, sons, daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, significant others, grandchildren, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, parents, in-laws and extended family possible. With a gang this large, there’s bound to be occasional drama. We handle each family challenge the mature way - with love, respect and especially avoidance and behind the scenes gossip.

And finally, I am Luckyman because of: Mary – anyone who has lived with an Ironman-in-training knows the sacrifice, support and self-less giving a spouse provides. Anyone who truly knows how quirky and semi-whacked I truly am can appreciate just how truly wonderful and special Mary is. Anyone who knows Mary truly knows how lucky I am.

Enough of this introspective contemplation and gratitude gushing; it is time to get back to the business of being a hard-ass athlete and train for hours.

And when this Luckyman finishes on September 12, I will not define myself as an Ironman. I will let my tattoo do the talking for me.

Until next week, thanks to all of you (and Toto too0 for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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P.S. Coach Heather thoroughly analyzed each component of the bike portion of my 70.3. My skill, technique, technical, tactical abilities and bicycle mechanics are all top-notch. The sole determinant of my slow bike times has been identified – I have not shaved my legs like an authentic triathlete! So, it is time man-up and get the Bic out. And with this new-found speed, Craig Alexander - look for me passing on your left. And yo, Chrissie Wellington, I know you’re not drafting behind me; so you must be admiring the back of my snappy Team 4 jersey and coveting it. Don’t worry, I can get you one. I know people.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog # 27

The good news is that I completed my inaugural Half-Ironman – the Racine 70.3. The bad news is that I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it was the easy half of my upcoming 140.6 – the first one.

The day started with a 3 AM wake up! After a nutrient-packed breakfast of a banana, yogurt and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I headed out the door for the 75 minute drive to the site, hydrating continuously in advance of a hot and humid day.

It is somewhat ironic to be driving east in preparation for 7 hours of grueling physical activity, knowing that a handful of those driving west were designated drivers (hopefully) returning with revelers after bar-time.

On-site, the Ironman event was awe-inspiring and truly impressive. There were 2,000 participants, each with their own story (and most undoubtedly much more interesting than mine.) The energy at 5 AM was palpable and flowed through the venue like electricity through a transformer.

After carefully laying out my gear, clothing, and nutrition selection for each of the respective transitions; there was a 1.5 mile leisurely stroll to the start of the swim. As per usual, my age group’s wave started nearly an hour after the elites, giving me plenty of time to contemplate the day and ready myself for a fun-filled event that would challenge my fitness and speak volumes about my readiness for the 140.6 less than seven weeks away. Ever imagine how many thoughts and scenarios your mind can process in two hours?

The Lake Michigan water temperature was an invigorating 64 degrees. The swim was actually quite enjoyable. Strange, nine months ago I couldn’t swim an entire length of a warm pool, comforted by lane lines with the added security of lifeguards and coaches. Now I can move relatively quickly through 1.2 miles of cold, deep and crowded waters.

Euphemistically, my biking skills are still “in development.” I have only ridden for approximately three months and despite having two 100 mile rides under my belt (actually over my handle bars), I still lack speed. Nowhere is this more apparent than on a flat course populated by genetic mutants riding tri-specific machines with less wind resistance and more aerodynamics than a NASA space ship. In comparison, I am the allegorical Orville and Wilbur Wright of bicycling.

(I’d like to think that I was at a thorough disadvantage in comparison to my fellow age-groupers due to the fact that they were undoubtedly all hopped up on performance enhancing drugs like Viagra; fact is – they’re just stronger riders – for now!)

While other competitors shaved nano-seconds off their bike splits; mine was seemingly timed with a calendar as opposed to a timing chip. I rolled into the transition only to find a torrential downpour had completely drenched all of my gear and I headed out onto the run course with sloshy shoes and soaking wet socks.

A hot “tri chick” once told me that “the elements mean nothing to an Ironman.” And so, despite temperatures approaching triple digits and tropical humidity, I embraced the run.

It is amazing what the mind can will the body to do. I gleefully finished 70.3 miles in under my goal time of seven hours, feeling strong and proud; knowing I was another day closer to September 12 and infinitely more knowledgeable about myself, my strengths and my “hey, there’s some room for improvement here” areas.

And a special shout out to the seemingly thousands of volunteers who manned aid stations, assisted competitors, braved volcanic-like heat and at all times were accompanied by warm smiles, pleasant demeanors and words of support and encouragement.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

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The good news is that I completed my inaugural Half-Ironman – the Racine 70.3. The bad news is that I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it was the easy half – the first one.

The day started with a 3 AM wake up! After a nutrient-packed breakfast of a banana, yogurt and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I headed out the door for the 75 minute drive to the site, hydrating continuously in advance of a hot and humid day.

It is somewhat ironic to be driving east in anticipation of 7 hours of grueling physical activity, knowing that a handful of those driving west were designated drivers (hopefully) returning with revelers after bar-time.

On-site, the Ironman event was awe-inspiring and truly impressive. There were 2,000 participants, each with their own story (and most undoubtedly much more interesting than mine.) The energy at 5 AM was palpable and flowed through the venue like electricity through a transformer.

After carefully laying out my gear, clothing, and nutrition selections for each of the respective transitions; there was a 1.5 mile leisurely stroll to the start of the swim. As per usual, my age group’s wave started nearly an hour after the elites, giving me plenty of time to contemplate the day and ready myself for a fun-filled event that would challenge my fitness and speak volumes about my readiness for the 140.6 less than seven weeks away. Ever imagine how many thoughts and scenarios your mind can process in two hours?

The Lake Michigan water temperature was an invigorating 64 degrees. The swim was actually quite enjoyable. Strange, nine months ago I couldn’t swim an entire length of a warm pool, comforted by lane lines with the added security of lifeguards and coaches. Now I can move relatively quickly through 1.2 miles of cold, deep and crowded waters.

Euphemistically, my biking skills are still “in development.” I have only ridden for approximately three months and despite having two 100 mile rides under my belt (actually over my handle bars), I still lack speed. Nowhere is this more apparent than on a flat course populated by genetic mutants riding tri-specific machines with less wind resistance and more aerodynamics than a NASA space ship. In comparison, I am the allegorical Orville and Wilbur Wright of bicycling.

(I’d like to think that this competitive disadvantage in comparison to my fellow age-groupers was due to the fact that they were undoubtedly all hopped up on performance enhancing drugs like Viagra; fact is – they’re just stronger riders – for now!)

While other participants rode well and shaved precious time off their bike split; mine was seemingly timed with a calendar as opposed to a timing chip. I rolled into the transition only to find a torrential downpour had completely drenched all of my gear and I headed out onto the run course with sloshy shoes and soaking wet socks.

A hot “tri chick” once told me that “the elements mean nothing to an Ironman.” And so, despite temperatures approaching triple digits and accompanying tropical humidity, I embraced the run.

It is amazing what the mind can will the body to do. I gleefully finished 70.3 miles in under my goal time of seven hours, feeling strong and proud; knowing I was another day closer to September 12 and infinitely more knowledgeable about myself, my strengths and my “hey, there’s some room for improvement here” areas.

And a special shout out to the seemingly thousands of volunteers who manned aid stations, assisted competitors, braved volcanic-like heat and at all times were accompanied by warm smiles, pleasant demeanors and words of support and encouragement.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

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My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog # 27

The good news is that I completed my inaugural Half-Ironman – the Racine 70.3. The bad news is that I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it was the easy half of my upcoming 140.6 – the first one.

The day started with a 3 AM wake up! After a nutrient-packed breakfast of a banana, yogurt and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I headed out the door for the 75 minute drive to the site, hydrating continuously in advance of a hot and humid day.

It is somewhat ironic to be driving east in preparation for 7 hours of grueling physical activity, knowing that a handful of those driving west were designated drivers (hopefully) returning with revelers after bar-time.

On-site, the Ironman event was awe-inspiring and truly impressive. There were 2,000 participants, each with their own story (and most undoubtedly much more interesting than mine.) The energy at 5 AM was palpable and flowed through the venue like electricity through a transformer.

After carefully laying out my gear, clothing, and nutrition selection for each of the respective transitions; there was a 1.5 mile leisurely stroll to the start of the swim. As per usual, my age group’s wave started nearly an hour after the elites, giving me plenty of time to contemplate the day and ready myself for a fun-filled event that would challenge my fitness and speak volumes about my readiness for the 140.6 less than seven weeks away. Ever imagine how many thoughts and scenarios your mind can process in two hours?

The Lake Michigan water temperature was an invigorating 64 degrees. The swim was actually quite enjoyable. Strange, nine months ago I couldn’t swim an entire length of a warm pool, comforted by lane lines with the added security of lifeguards and coaches. Now I can move relatively quickly through 1.2 miles of cold, deep and crowded waters.

Euphemistically, my biking skills are still “in development.” I have only ridden for approximately three months and despite having two 100 mile rides under my belt (actually over my handle bars), I still lack speed. Nowhere is this more apparent than on a flat course populated by genetic mutants riding tri-specific machines with less wind resistance and more aerodynamics than a NASA space ship. In comparison, I am the allegorical Orville and Wilbur Wright of bicycling.

(I’d like to think that I was at a thorough disadvantage in comparison to my fellow age-groupers due to the fact that they were undoubtedly all hopped up on performance enhancing drugs like Viagra; fact is – they’re just stronger riders – for now!)

While other competitors shaved nano-seconds off their bike splits; mine was seemingly timed with a calendar as opposed to a timing chip. I rolled into the transition only to find a torrential downpour had completely drenched all of my gear and I headed out onto the run course with sloshy shoes and soaking wet socks.

A hot “tri chick” once told me that “the elements mean nothing to an Ironman.” And so, despite temperatures approaching triple digits and tropical humidity, I embraced the run.

It is amazing what the mind can will the body to do. I gleefully finished 70.3 miles in under my goal time of seven hours, feeling strong and proud; knowing I was another day closer to September 12 and infinitely more knowledgeable about myself, my strengths and my “hey, there’s some room for improvement here” areas.

And a special shout out to the seemingly thousands of volunteers who manned aid stations, assisted competitors, braved volcanic-like heat and at all times were accompanied by warm smiles, pleasant demeanors and words of support and encouragement.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)

The good news is that I completed my inaugural Half-Ironman – the Racine 70.3. The bad news is that I’ve got a sneaking suspicion it was the easy half – the first one.

The day started with a 3 AM wake up! After a nutrient-packed breakfast of a banana, yogurt and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I headed out the door for the 75 minute drive to the site, hydrating continuously in advance of a hot and humid day.

It is somewhat ironic to be driving east in anticipation of 7 hours of grueling physical activity, knowing that a handful of those driving west were designated drivers (hopefully) returning with revelers after bar-time.

On-site, the Ironman event was awe-inspiring and truly impressive. There were 2,000 participants, each with their own story (and most undoubtedly much more interesting than mine.) The energy at 5 AM was palpable and flowed through the venue like electricity through a transformer.

After carefully laying out my gear, clothing, and nutrition selections for each of the respective transitions; there was a 1.5 mile leisurely stroll to the start of the swim. As per usual, my age group’s wave started nearly an hour after the elites, giving me plenty of time to contemplate the day and ready myself for a fun-filled event that would challenge my fitness and speak volumes about my readiness for the 140.6 less than seven weeks away. Ever imagine how many thoughts and scenarios your mind can process in two hours?

The Lake Michigan water temperature was an invigorating 64 degrees. The swim was actually quite enjoyable. Strange, nine months ago I couldn’t swim an entire length of a warm pool, comforted by lane lines with the added security of lifeguards and coaches. Now I can move relatively quickly through 1.2 miles of cold, deep and crowded waters.

Euphemistically, my biking skills are still “in development.” I have only ridden for approximately three months and despite having two 100 mile rides under my belt (actually over my handle bars), I still lack speed. Nowhere is this more apparent than on a flat course populated by genetic mutants riding tri-specific machines with less wind resistance and more aerodynamics than a NASA space ship. In comparison, I am the allegorical Orville and Wilbur Wright of bicycling.

(I’d like to think that this competitive disadvantage in comparison to my fellow age-groupers was due to the fact that they were undoubtedly all hopped up on performance enhancing drugs like Viagra; fact is – they’re just stronger riders – for now!)

While other participants rode well and shaved precious time off their bike split; mine was seemingly timed with a calendar as opposed to a timing chip. I rolled into the transition only to find a torrential downpour had completely drenched all of my gear and I headed out onto the run course with sloshy shoes and soaking wet socks.

A hot “tri chick” once told me that “the elements mean nothing to an Ironman.” And so, despite temperatures approaching triple digits and accompanying tropical humidity, I embraced the run.

It is amazing what the mind can will the body to do. I gleefully finished 70.3 miles in under my goal time of seven hours, feeling strong and proud; knowing I was another day closer to September 12 and infinitely more knowledgeable about myself, my strengths and my “hey, there’s some room for improvement here” areas.

And a special shout out to the seemingly thousands of volunteers who manned aid stations, assisted competitors, braved volcanic-like heat and at all times were accompanied by warm smiles, pleasant demeanors and words of support and encouragement.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, July 12, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #26

In addition to training for the Ironman and fulfilling my other work, family and friends obligations, this week I established three near-term goals: (1) win the Powerball lottery, (2) be selected as a body double for Usher and (3) finish a sprint triathlon faster than I have ever before - and thus earn a coveted “PR.”

Since the odds of winning the lottery are infinitesimally small and almost identical whether or not one actually purchases a ticket, I seldom purchase one. This week, again I went ticketless and thus the chances of my winning obviously evaporated.

As for personal goal #2, upon meticulous investigation, I discovered that there is only one thing keeping me from being Usher’s body double and it is not correctable. Usher is really, really short. Our height differential is an obvious elimination factor. I guess going forward the wee-one will have to find another body double or do his own stunts – but that shouldn’t pose a problem because Usher is a stand up guy – albeit a close-to-the-ground, stand up guy.

And so, my trifecta of this week’s goals was unceremoniously reduced to the sole objective of finishing a sprint triathlon in less than one hour and thirty six minutes.

Fortunately, one was scheduled this past weekend and I had entered.

My plan was simple – I would take each of the three legs of the triathlon and dedicate the respective discipline to a Travel Channel food show. The swim, obviously, was Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations.” I’d enter the water with a confident attitude, mildly smug, slightly arrogant and boldly optimistic. The bike was dedicated to Adam Richman’s “Man vs. Food.” Whatever quantities of pedaling challenges were heaped on my platter, I’d handle each one with a vigorously optimistic enthusiasm and gulp it, one bite at a time. The run was “Bizarre Foods” with Andrew Zimmerman. No matter how unpleasant, I would gut it out and eat whatever the run was feeding; devouring the 5K equivalent of ant eggs, seal eyes and warthog ears with relish.

The triathlon was a mega event with scores of waves of 50 athletes each, starting approximately every four minutes. The first wave was the “elite” athletes and they went off promptly at 6:30 AM. Eschewing all preferential treatment normally bestowed on a famous triathlete like me, I huddled with the masses and we were relegated to wave #18. As I completed my swim warm-up, I calculated that with good fortune my wave would enter the water after the elite athletes had already returned from their bike ride.

Bourdain and I rocked the swim and coming in to T1, I saw the elites exit T2. The bikes in wave #18 were racked in the next community and despite leaving the zip code for my bike, the transition was the best kind – uneventful.

Ever see one of the “Man vs. Food” episodes when Adam’s met his match and his stomach is in his throat and he struggles to swallow another morsel? Well, that wasn’t me on the bike. I was somewhat pokey, but okay and finished the ride ready for the allegorical sheep testicles or whatever bizzarre food was being served up 5K style.

All in all the day was great. Many of my friends and training partners had absolutely awesome days. And a special shout out to “Lady D” who knocked 15 minutes off her previous personal best. Way to rock it Deann, but NASA just called and would like their jet propulsion engines back!

All-in-all, I had fun, learned much and left some gas in the tank for this weekend’s 70.3 – which will be “Hell’s Kitchen.” But I’m ready for it and am planning on washing Gordon Ramsey’s mouth out with soap after I devour this three course feast.

Oh, I did get my PR.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, July 05, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #25 (Guest Written by Doofus the Dog)

Today Robin completed another 6 hour, 100 mile plus bike ride, followed by a run. Afterwards, I heard him complain that a “certain area” of his body was sore. Well, my friend, pay back’s a bitch (and actually, so was my mother.) It wasn’t too long ago that he tricked me into jumping into the truck (which I did with my customary exuberance and enthusiasm) for an excellent adventure. The next thing I remember is waking up; only to discover that my man parts were gone. And to add insult to injury, I had to wear a stupid halo collar/lampshade for a week that made me the laughing stock of the neighborhood. So man-up big guy and quit complaining – at least you still got some man parts to be sore.

And while we’re complaining – how about a little variety in the music selection maestro? Last week on the way back from Colorado, I was subjected to 16 hours of abysmal noise – 60’s rock, hip hop, John Prine – even some friggin’ symphony. How about a little music for man’s best friend? Maybe “Who Let the Dogs Out?” Gnarles Barkley or even Three Dog Night? Or something from my main man “Snoop Dog?” Hell, we were on the road on the anniversary of Michael Jackson’s death and couldn’t even crank out a little “Puppy Love” in memory of the gloved one.

Robin’s actually working pretty hard in preparation for his upcoming 70.3 in two weeks. The week’s plan called for 16.5 hours of training. He’s swimming up to 1.5 hours straight in open water (you think he’d throw in an occasional dog-paddle for me, but noooo….) Actually; he’s not swimming 1.5 hours straight – his sighting still sucks, so he’s swimming continuously for 1.5 hours in a slightly loopy, zigzag pattern.  This week my good buddy the UPS man stopped by with a package and inside was Robin’s new wetsuit. Looks like one less excuse on the list for him. (Wonder if he knows how much he’s spent on his journey to 140.6?) He’s running far and well. One morning last week he headed out and returned two naps and 1, 762 licks later; so I’m guessing his run was about 2.5 hours. (Sometime, remember to ask him why he returned from the run with only one sock, okay?)
As for me, Doofus, I am quirky, Robin’s just weird. Case in point, I am starting to pee with my leg up – but get this…it is my right front leg! Ever see that before? Didn’t think so. And I am part Labrador, part Poodle, part something else – not the “Island Beach Dog” Robin tells people when they ask about me….. (I am quite dashingly handsome, but little good that does me now, thanks to the snip-meister.) As for the “Island Beach Dog,” he tells people with great sincerity that the breed is rare and indigenous to the Gallipolis Islands and was bred specifically to protect the nest eggs of sea turtles from predators. Weird, hey?

And now that Independence Day is in the rear-view mirror – it is almost the greatest time of the year – THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER – Yeah Puppy! (And Ironman Wisconsin is less than 70 days away….)

Anyway, thanks for reading… (maybe print this out and read it often so the page will be come dog-eared!)

Doofus

Doofus@the greatest dog ever.bow

P.S. – And a special bark-out to my BFFF (Best Fido Friend Forever) Charlie…It was great hanging with you in Colorado and thanks for sharing some great times hiking, scratching, sniffing and fetching….And they’ll never know what we do when they’re gone!

Monday, June 28, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #24

“The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page.”– St. Augustine.

When “Augger the 1st Blogger” first put quill to parchment and penned those words, little did he suspect he was foreshadowing my journey to 140.6.

Last week, my worldly travels took me to exotic locations and blooming metropolises including Ogallala (Nebraska,) Wahoo (Nebraska,) Muscatine (Iowa) and Last Chance (Colorado.) Indeed, my triathlon book is becoming voluminous, the pages many and the adventures most excellent.

Colorado is to other states what high def is to regular television, gourmet cuisine is to fast food, Pandora is to AM Radio, Aaron Rodgers is to Brett Favre, my Specialized Tarmac is to a Big Wheel, and an iPhone is to rotary – more bigger, more beautiful, more better, more higher, more snowier, more spectacular, more dramatic, more breathtaking! (In fact, if I was the Colorado Tourism council, my tagline would be: “Colorado…More.”) And last week, Colorado was “more warmer” with three digit, record temperatures.

The week was a kaleidoscope of activities and training that was awe-inspiring, educational and thoroughly enjoyable. Mountain biking at 10,000 feet with an experienced, thrill seeking, skillful and fun-loving co-rider (thanks Jimmy) was an experience I will forever treasure, my quads will always remember and those riding Great America’s rollercoaster will eternally envy. Bicycling from Boulder to Estes Park was an unbelievable, calf-straining experience as the rolling terrain slowly morphed into steep climbs and viciously fast downhills – and the shoulder on HWY 36 was shared with a rolling party on wheels of close to 100 like-minded, but way-faster riders. Running with a panoramic view of postcard scenery was awe-inspiring and offered time to reflect on just how lucky I am to be on this journey and how grateful I am for the so many special people I’ve connected with and who have supported me, encouraged me and taught me.

The focal point of my Colorado voyage (my nephew’s wedding not withstanding – congratulations David and Courtney) was Boulder’s infamous “Stroke and Stride” Aquathon – a combination of 750 yard swim in the Boulder reservoir and a 5K run in the adjacent foothills.

The event was unflippin believable (flippers weren’t allowed on the swim portion.)

The first person I saw upon exiting my truck was wearing a “NCAA Triathlon All-American” T-shirt….and I think the quality of athletes went up from there. “Slightly intimidating” may be an understatement.

Also in attendance was the New Zealand National Triathlon Team – in the area for some high-altitude training. They thoroughly enjoyed my greeting of “Gidday Kiwis.” (And now I got some mates down under if “Augger the blogger” and I want to add another travel chapter south of the equator.) I also chatted up Colin Laughery who was the night’s eventual first place finisher. Colin is a great guy, amazing athlete, accomplished Ironman and has a beautiful wife, great mom, an awesome aunt and a gorgeous, way-cool cousin. Way to rock it Colin!

Coach Heather had cautioned me in advance that swimming at altitude would be like having a boa constrictor around my neck. Yea right….I had trained at higher altitudes for five days and she had been instrumental in transforming my once pudding-ish body into a finely honed athletic machine of 180 pounds of twisted steel and sex appeal…

The temperature was hovering close to 100 when I got into the water for my warm-up. I immediately knew there was something askew…..after swimming for 100 yards my chest tightened, my throat closed, I gasped for breath and my arms flailed….panicking, I turned on my back and headed back to where I could stand and tried to conjure up an acceptable excuse of why I skipped the event…..

I focused on deep breathing, relaxation, visualization, lessons learned and experiences shared with others (thanks Coach Heather, Cheri, Emily, Deann and Anita) and went for another warm-up lap…it was slightly iffy but “okay” and I decided to give it a go….

As for the event itself, the “Stoke and Stride” was magical.  My swimming was awesome (despite some sighting challenges.)  Coming out of the water through transition (difficult/comical again shedding the duck-taped wetsuit) and starting the run was challenging. My heart rate was high Z11…but I eventually settled into my pace and finished great - with a Personal Record (which was impossible not to do because this was my first such event.) I actually placed 2nd place in my age group!

To paraphrase another famous quote from our now good friend St. Augustine, “It is better to have tri’d and finished, than never to have tri’d at all.”

Until next week, thanks for being on along on my journey to 140.6

Cheers for now,

Robin

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P.S. - Happy Birthday, Kristy!

Monday, June 21, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #23

English poet William Blake once astutely observed, “Great things are done when men and mountains meet.” With confidence that his long-ago, insightfully uttered words would still be prophetic today; my plan involved traveling to Colorado to spend the week working remotely (wink, wink), training, racing, spending quality time with family and re-acquainting myself with an old friend I like to call “The Rocky Mountains.”

Packing for such an epic adventure belied my natural, minimalistic preferences and would have made Imelda Marcos nod approvingly and Carrie Bradshaw quiver with envy. My shoe category entries alone included: road biking, mountain biking, running, trail running, dress, amphibians, casual, sandals and my now-signature go-to Five Fingers. Count ‘em -  nine friggin’ pairs of shoes!

The shoes neatly occupied the bottom layers of my “traveling locker room” bin which also included: bike pump, helmet, sunglasses, bike gloves, biking shorts, bike jerseys, swimming suit, running shorts, various performance tops, my now-famous and duck-taped wetsuit, fuel belt, Body Basix Energy Gel Plus, bars, electrolyte tablets, sunscreen and multiple pairs of socks. And for the ride out, the bin was lovingly swaddled next to my bike with the care and attention a mother showers on her new-born the first night in the bassinette.

The 16 hour drive to Denver can be succinctly and accurately described in only two words, “boring.”

Conceptually, “training at altitude” sounds like a great idea – increased EPO levels, increased red blood cell levels and higher V02 max.  The challenge is that the altitude acclimation period can be long on a short visit and it is difficult to train at the same intensity at altitude than at sea-level - thus possibly reducing the potential benefits.
That, combined with the fact that I am a wus, necessitated that the training amped up quickly.

Home-base is a quaint mountain chalet B&B, nestled 8500 feet up with a panoramic view of some of the most beautiful sites my good friend Rocky has to offer. The inn’s proprietors, Jimmy and Katie, are gracious hosts and two of the world’s most wonderfully special people (though they do have a quirky habit of dressing alike.)

My inaugural workout consisted of running up a verticality insane switchback trail. It was an experience eerily similar to pulling a cart loaded with any family’s emotional baggage while breathing through a straw…a true Rocky Mountain High.

The next day, largely due in fact to combining intelligent hydration with my now-Himalayan Sherpa-like lung capacity, was an immensely rewarding 4 hour trilogy of endurance experiences – road biking, mountain biking and hiking at altitudes ranging from 8,000 to 10,500 feet!.

Hopefully, as the week progresses, my bicycle climbing skills – which can charitably and euphemistically described as “just sucks” - will show improvement. I am swimming and running and Coach Heather has feathered in a variety of regimens which will help make the week an experience worthy of Blake’s words and “great things will happen when this man meets the mountains.”

As long as those dammed Vuvuzelas don’t follow me up the trail….

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin
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Monday, June 14, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #22

If my Ironman training regimen was analogous to BP’s preparation plan for the catastrophic tragedy that is engulfing the Gulf (protect sea otters, walruses, and seals – and other non-indigenous species), I would be honing my skills in archery, cross country skiing and ice skating.

It is both unfathomable and unconscionable to me that a simple endeavor like planning to compete in a one-day triathlon event has more advanced thought, strategy, preparation and scientific-based training than all the containment domes, top kills, junk shots and dispersants that BP seemingly conjures up on the fly; based mostly on hopes and wishful thinking while the lives and livelihoods of so many are devastated….

Social commentary aside, this was somewhat of a watershed week in my training cycle and would prove to be an indication of whether I was involved in this Ironman journey or committed to finishing. (In bacon and egg breakfast parlance, the chicken is “involved” in the meal; the pig is “committed.”) The week’s plan called for seventeen hours of training – culminating (or so I thought) with a 100 mile ride on Saturday.

The Century ride was an extremely important milestone for me as race day calls for 112 miles on the bike. I first mounted my saddle three months ago – and shamefully walked back from my inaugural ride with my bike at my side, my pride gone, my confidence shaken and my Ironman resolve in question.

Time precludes sharing each glorious moment of the sub-six hour 100 mile ride, but for the finish picture Rocky Balboa bounding up the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art while the pulsating beats of “Gonna Fly Now” permeated the stratosphere.

I rode with my BFF’s: (Bicycling Friends Forever). The day was a kaleidoscope of spinning, sassing, slowing, saying and speeding.  I couldn’t imagine who I’d rather lose my Century-Ride virginity with than this “ménage a tri.” Thanks, Bill, JT and Em, I will remember this forever. But call me like you promised. Okay? Call me.

The day ended with me basking in the afterglow of my accomplishment, a leisurely dinner, a couple glasses of wine and ten hours of solid sleep. I awoke at five AM the next day and realized that my training plan called for an additional one hour bike ride, followed by a one and a half hour run. Dutifully, I geared up and finished the week’s seventeen hours of prescribed training.

While finishing the run, I realized two things: (1) I was committed to (rather than involved in) this Ironman quest and (2) if I could convince IM officials to separate the bike and the run with an eat, drink and sleep intermission; I was already ready for this Ironman challenge. Since the prospects of this happening are as unlikely as Rocky not answering the bell; it is three more months of training.

Bring it on.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, June 07, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #20

After last Sunday’s adventure (or was it a mis-adventure?) on the half-marathon course, my excuse book was nearly filled. To date, temperatures on my race days were the athletic equivalent of the Three Bears’ porridge: too hot, too cold, too windy - too bad!

My plan for redemption was to set a PR (personal record for you triathlon-linguistic neophytes) in the sprint triathlon on this week’s schedule. My long and illustrious career as a Triathlete includes a total of two previous sprint triathlons (and for those neophytes who’ve stayed beyond the first sentence of this paragraph, sprints are shorter races usually consisting of a 400 yard swim, a 15 or 16 mile bike ride and a 5k run.) My inaugural sprint triathlon was in 2002, on the same course in Lake Mills, WI.

Fortunately, since then I have finely honed my skills, trained my body to be a lean and mean racing machine and relentlessly practiced each discipline of the triathlon – including transitions. Plus, I have the indisputable advantage of working with the world’s best endurance coach. And as an added bonus, Coach Heather is as nice personally as she is good professionally; I’m immensely appreciative of her expertise.

Sunday’s brisk winds seemingly angered the waters and when my wave went off, the lake was churning and choppy. Little did that daunt me, as I was ready; tightly swaddled in my wetsuit and confident that swimming three times a week for the last six months would pay liquid dividends. And it did! I was the third person from my wave to exit the waters. I was styling, flying, stoked; ready to rock the ride with a mischievous smile on my face and an optimistic twinkle in my eyes…

I entered the transition area and got to the bike rack. That’s when the fun began.

In 2002, my wetsuit was already old – as it apparently was the same one used by divers on the original expedition searching for the Loch Ness Monster. Brittle and rigid, with zippers on the legs. The top half came faster than a prom dress, but a slight glitch occurred when I tried to get my legs unensconced. The zipper on my left leg was stuck! I pulled, stepped, pried and made every contortion possible; while I hopped around like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest. It was amusing to a few curious onlookers and certainly a sight-to-behold for fellow age-groupers as they exited T1 and headed out on the bike leg; they having just devoured in minutes the swim advantage which I spent six months gaining.

Eventually, one ripped wetsuit leg later; I was onto more challenging things - like putting on my top. Because of the wind and chill, I (mistakenly) decided to go with a long sleeve compression top. Unfortunately, compression tops and wet skin work as well together as feeble fingers and old-school wetsuits. Especially if you’re putting your shirt on backwards (unknown at the time). Five minutes after entering transition, I exited with my shirt facing the wrong direction and my race-belt upside down, my ego only slightly bruised, my smile intact and my enthusiasm unbridled.

The bike went as expected. My T2 time was a respectable minute-plus. (Hey neophytes, T1 and T2 are the transition areas to properly gear-up between the swim and bike and the bike and run, respectively.) The run was fine. I crossed the finish line in 1:36. It was a PR with an exclamation point, almost fifteen minutes faster than my 2002 time and minutes faster than my other sprint triathlon (on a different course with a shorter bike distance and calmer waters!)

All things considered, despite the Jackson/Timberlake-esque wardrobe malfunction, the day was great, the smiles many, the laughs hearty, the camaraderie even better and the prospects of having to learn to dress and undress myself at this advanced age slightly humorous.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6! This is truly fun.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, May 31, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #20

On race-day, Mother Nature and Father Time tag-teamed and opened up a can of whup to give this son-of-a-gun a beat-down in his quest to break the elusive two hour barrier in a half marathon.

With temperatures soaring into the nineties, humidity approaching Amazon tropical rain-forest levels and a chronological clock spinning faster than the fan I wished I had to cool myself from the blast furnace heat, I fell somewhat short of my goal; but was immensely enriched by the experience.

Madison cherishes its nickname of “Madtown” and her citizens work hard to continually earn its designation as one of the greatest US cities in which to live. And it’s no surprise why! Wisconsin’s capital city and perennial winner of the best partying university knows how to host a running party for 8500 lucky participants with a flair and panache second-to-none. Throughout the entire course, the streets were lined with supporters, cheerers, partiers, revelers, high-fivers and hosers. (Not derisive, Canadian hosers popularized by the McKenzie brothers referring to beer-guzzling idiots; but friendly, neighborly hosers who cooled off runners with much-needed sprays of refreshing liquid coolness.) As a fitting toast to Madison’s heritage, a group of indigenous partiers actually set up a table and passed out Bloody Marys (with beer chasers) to passing runners! And an immense thanks to the volunteers who donated their time to make the event the success that it was (my finishing time not withstanding…)
For me, Sunday’s run was going to be a shout-out with an exclamation point in my Ironman quest; highlighting how I was becoming a finely-honed Swiss Army knife in the world of athletes. Instead, it was a lesson in humility, an appreciation for others, an indication of the miles still to go and an opportunity to learn. Plus it was fun.

The race plan was on pace for success through the first 6 miles. I was feeling strong, hydrated and eagerly anticipating the closing seven point one miles. Then, almost instantaneously, the aforementioned dynamic duo of Mother Nature and Father Time gave me the proverbial, “not so fast.” My legs grew tired and despite hydrating continuously, I had a desert-like parchedness. My “get-up-and-go” had “got-up-and-gone” and my body was flipping off my brain, my will and mocking my sub-two hour aspirations.

I struggled to mile 10 and calculated that I would need to run eight minute miles to break the two hour barrier. Though that might be possible on fresh legs and with a hurricane-like tailwind, it wasn’t going to happen on this day. I wanted to quit. Instead, I began to hallucinate! I dreamt that three angels appeared to carry me to the finish. These weren’t the idyllic, Michelangelo-type angels with billowing wings and cherubic faces. These were strong, powerful, beautiful, authentic angels; riding bikes rather than flying amongst the clouds, and cheering, encouraging and supporting me and my group of fellow-runners to finish strong.
I crossed the finish line six minutes past the two hour mark and my hallucinations were soon replaced with a sense of relief and accomplishment. Shortly after I exited the finishers’ shoot, I ran into Coach Heather and her fellow Team 4 Elite Triathletes, Emily and Jill. What these three were doing there on their bikes at a running event I’ll never know, but it was great to see them anyway.

Speaking of Team 4, in a close election unmarred by hanging chads, ballot-box stuffing, fraud and other voter irregularities (with the exception of a large number of absentee ballots from Dade County, FL cast for George Bush,) I am honored to report that Team 4 was selected as the Janus Challenge designated beneficiary for the fund-raising component of my Ironman quest. I am humbled, proud and hopeful to collaboratively and significantly contribute to this heroic cause.

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey to 140.6.

Cheers for now,

Robin

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Monday, May 24, 2010

My Journey to 140.6 – Robin’s Ironman Blog #19

On Saturday, I was scheduled to ride 100K. But because I am somewhat perspectively-creative, I instead decided to ride 62.1371 miles and completed the entire distance in less than 4 hours Celsius – averaging an impressive 36 MP1/2H over the entire the 10 million centimeters on the course.

Saturday’s event was a fund/awareness raiser for the Lyme Association and I renamed the ride, “The Tick 100.” Riding along side (actually I was tucked in behind) John “The Professor of Pedal” and Bill “The King of the Hills;” I earned my new moniker as “The Dean of the Draft.” John and Bill were over-the-top helpful and two of the greatest riding partners ever. Despite the fact that their combined age will closely approximate the number of games the hapless Milwaukee Brewers will lose this year; John and Bill rode with power, energy and a youthful exuberance that was inspiring. And speaking of “hapless” – my “hap” level is perfectively optimized and is neither “less” nor “more.” (Someday, I’ll share with you my secrets on how you too can have the perfect amount of “hap” in your life.)

Throughout my entire Ironman journey which started nearly six months ago, I have never ceased to be amazed at the willingness of others to help, offer advice, show encouragement and share positive energy and good vibes. (On Saturday’s ride, a wonderful woman unwrapped an energy bar for me and offered tips on nutrition, flavors and eating while riding.) People sharing their passion with others via races, rides and other events is a cherished thread woven into the fabric of pursuing an active and healthy lifestyle.

In that spirit of community and people helping people, last week I announced that I was signing up to participate in the Janus Charity Challenge to raise funds for a deserving charity in conjunction with the Ironman race. This week, you’ll select the charity which will be the beneficiary of funds raised in the completion of our Ironman quest.

• Team 4: http://www.goteam4.com/ (Team 4 inspires women to live healthy lifestyles and raises money to battle the four cancers which primarily affect women - uterine, ovarian, cervical and breast.)

• MACC Fund: http://www.maccfund.org/ (Midwest Athletes Against Childhood Cancer - The MACC Fund provides hope through research to find a cure for childhood cancers.)

• Jesuit Refugee Service – Haiti: http://www.jrs.net/home.php (Since the January earthquake, JRS Haiti has provided emergency assistance and pastoral services in seven camps near the capital, Port-au-Prince, serving over 23,000 of those displaced by the disaster.)

Though each organization is deserving and needing support, we can only select one to be the beneficiary of this fund raising component of our Ironman journey. Simply e-mail me at my address below with your selection for the designated beneficiary in the subject line.

(And I promise that after your vote is tallied I will only share your e-mail with legitimate companies offering much-needed services like body-part enhancements, mortgage relief, debt consolidation, miracle cures, ancient remedies, easy weight loss and instructions on how to partner with the relative of an exiled Nigerian government official and share in the money he needs to transfer.)

Last week marked the culmination of a three week build cycle in my training with 14 hours of challenging workouts. This week is for recovery in preparation for my half marathon on Sunday. (Technically, it is not MY half-marathon, rather the Madison Half-Marathon; but I do plan to own it with the sub-two hour finish that eluded me by a mere 43 seconds in March.)

Until next week, thanks for being along on my journey.

Robin

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