Suzu Triathlon Results

Here are my results from this past Sunday's Suzu Triathlon

Total time: 6:43:22
Swim (2.5k) 52:07
Bike (100.2k) 3:54:23
Run (23.3k) 1:56:52
65th place overall

1. Swim - 52:07
I swam well. At the Lake Stevens Half-Ironman earlier this summer it seemed like I was just floundering along - merely trying to grab a breath every stroke, avoid getting kicked, and keep pointed in roughly the right direction. At Suzu I could concentrate on making long smooth strokes and positioning myself in the pack. During the second half of the race I passed at least 10 swimmers. I even managed to draft for long stretches off swimmers from the previous wave overtaking us. Compared to my last place swim finishes of a few years ago, I felt like a real competitive swimmer as I staggered out of the water (117th out of 400).

2. Bike - 3:54:23:
Riding through Suzu's scenic blend of rugged coastline, forested mountains and traditional Japanese village was almost pure pleasure. I was able to stay in my aero bars on the flat stretches and maintain a pace over 30k per hour.

At all the big triathlons I have done (Sado, Wildflower, IM Japan..) all the participants exclaim how that particular triathlon is the most mountainous of all. I would say emphatically that Suzu has the most steep and challenging hill section.

I kept reminding myself of Mary's advice to keep eating, and consumed 2 Powerbars, 3 gels, a pack of Cliff Shot Blocks, and 2 bananas. I was worried about running out of energy like I did at Lake Stevens and my recent Edogawa training ride. But I felt genki throughout - I was loudly singing (Walking on Sunshine by Katrina & the Waves) during the last section of the bike. The caffeine helped too -during the whole race (and pre-race) I consumed a coffee, 2 Vivarin, an Espresso Love gel, a Coke, and a chocolate gel - probably a total of 800mg of caffeine.

I had grown to assume that all big triathlons will provide a water bottle exchange, but unfortunately Suzu only had tiny paper cups of ice cold water at the exchange. Foolishly I only had brought one water bottle and felt terribly unprepared - twice I stopped at aid stations and had volunteers ladle water into my bottle.

3. Run - 1:56:52 -
I managed to hang on reasonably well during the run. I walked frequently. Very frequently. Probably 20-25 times. My strategy was to run 5 minutes at 4:30 pace then walk for a 20-second interval, but the aid stations every two kilometers meant I was walking even more frequently. Mentally I felt pretty good, and for the first two-thirds of the race I clung to the fantasy that I would somehow speed up at the end and finish under 1:50, even under 1:45. But the heat started taking a real toll on me (I am convinced I am more atsugari than other triathletes). My lack of long training runs for a 23k distance over the past 6 weeks also hurt. I struggled the last 7k.

After the race I was hot and weak and had no appetite. I decided to rest next to the medical tent because it was the only place I could find shade and room to lay down. I must have looked pretty bad, or maybe the medical staff was just bored. They brought me a sleeping pad and blankets and ice and took my pulse and my temperature. I repeatedly told them I was just chotto kimochi warui, but they still looked pretty worried. I kept thinking if I could just get to somewhere air-conditioned (maybe a Royal Host?) I would regain my appetite, eat something, and generate some strength, but our minshuku was 8-kilometers away. I weighed myself when I finally did get back to the minshuku hours later and I was a startling 56 kilograms.

The end of my triathlon was not particularly "glorious" but everything else was a triumph.

Countdown to Suzu

I am trying to have realistic expectations for Sunday's Suzu Triathlon.   Everything I learn lately is causing me to ratchet back my goal time for the event:

2.3k Swim -  
I saw Yamada-san at Ys Bike shop yesterday and she informs me that the Suzu Triathlon is known for its strong currents, currents that pull swimmers wildly off the course.  I grow worried of being sucked out into the perilous Japan Sea and finding myself washed ashore in North Korea. 

100k Bike -
Apparently the swimmers who end up in North Korean prison camps are the lucky ones though.  According to the elevation map we just received, the Suzu bike is a torturous roller coaster with a long, almost vertical climb at the 40k and 80k mark.   Moreover, as teammate Mary reminds me, a 100k bike segment requires a series of long training rides.  She notes that my single 100k training ride last week (and indoor training) is pathetically inadequate. 

23k Run -
The weather forecast for Sunday is for 32 degrees (90 degrees F) by the time I start the run at around noon.  The course is cruelly exposed to the sun.  Last year few participants broke 2 hours.  So 5 minute per kilometer is actually a very competitive pace.

Nonetheless  I am looking forward to a fun weekend - the course is said to be very scenic and we have a good crew participating.

Edogawa Ride

I decide it is imperative to get in a long bicycle ride prior to the looming Suzu Triathlon and set out on a 120-kilometer ride along the scenic Edogawa River, thinking it will boost my confidence for Suzu's 100k of cycling.

But instead the Edogawa ride leaves me a broken, exhausted shell of my former self with my hopes for Suzu shattered and reduced to simple survival.

The first 60k of the ride upriver is fine thanks to the strong tailwind. But when I turn into the headwind I know I am in trouble. The 33 degree heat, sore quads, and overall fatigue bear down on me. My speed soon drops from 28k/hour to 13k/hour. Soon I can hardly pedal at all.

When another cyclist goes by me I try to jump in behind him and take advantage of the draft, but I don't have energy to keep up. Later I come upon a young schoolgirl riding a little pink bike with a flower basket, and draft off her for awhile, but she provides little shield from the headwind.

I abandon my initial plan to ride back to the Bay and stagger onto a train at Matsudo where the other passengers look upon me with mixture of concern and disgust. Upon returning home I weigh myself and am a shocking 57kg (126 pounds), my lowest weight since around the age of 14.

I run with our Yoga Master, Michael Glenn, after the ride, but I am so spent that I repeatedly implore Michael to stop and walk

Indoor trainer

Most people migrate to their indoor trainers in winter to escape cold and sleet.

Not me. I simply cannot will myself to go out into the 35 degree weather and ride for hours through the sweltering, smoggy, traffic-clogged streets.

To extent I have trained at all for the cycling portion of the upcoming Suzu triathlon it has been in the relative air-conditioned comfort of my living room. Indoor training has the advantage of being more efficient - one can obtain a decent workout in less than an hour and work on strength and speed (and watch episodes of Prison Break).

Will the indoor trainer suffice for the mountainous 100k at Suzu?

Apparently not. My teammates have lost all respect for me now, and inform me that I am doomed.

Summer Time

Apparently the US instituted daylight savings times in Japan after the war, a practice that became known as sanma taimu (summer time). The Japanese wasted no time in abandoning daylight savings time upon regaining sovereignty.

I long considered the absence of daylight savings time and resulting summer sunrise at 4am and darkness by '7pm an abomination - sweltering morning commutes and no sun light after work for cycling, trail running or barbecues.

However this past week with the afternoon sun making outdoor workouts unbearable, I am eager to see the sun set as soon as possible. I was ready to run by 5pm yesterday, but waited another 90 minutes for dusk and relief from the glaring heat. I still felt weak and light-headed doing 18k in the middle of the Tokyo urban heat island. But it is mercifully cooler in the dark and the illumination of the Tokyo skyline around the Palace is lovely, and I can understand why the Japanese jettisoned "summer time" and expedited the day.

Shiba Koen Swimming Pool

During that narrow 6-week window of time that is the official Tokyo summer, city officials open the impressive outdoor 50-meter Shiba Koen pool.

Keren swam on a drizzly night earlier this week and shared the pool with one other swimmer.

I went to the pool yesterday, a gorgeous summer weekday afternoon, and the scene was something like the accompanying picture. The pool deck was jammed with men sunbathing (so much for that salaryman work ethic Japan was so famous for).

Jostling with crowds is more representative of the conditions I will face in triathlon swims, so I am content to battle the crowds.

Kamakura Swim & Beach Party

Yesterday found us in Kamakura seeking that eccentric mix of surf/hiking culture and 1,000-year old Japanese history. Instead of my usual logical route incorporating the temples of Kita-Kamakura and the Great Buddha, I took a group of 15 runners through rugged trails to the north-east and east of town:

Kamakura lies at 35 degrees latitude and one imagines a temperate climate. But yesterday running through the forest trails it was very easy to imagine we were in the equatorial jungles of Southeast Asia

I had forgotten how scenic these forests can be on a sunny day. I had also forgotten how muddy these trails can be after a rainy day.

The mud slowed our running, but that was OK. The whole point of yesterday was the beach experience anyway, the run was just an excuse to travel down to Kamakura Beach.

Yes, some cynical locals my complain that Kamakura Beach is an urban wasteland with packs of enormous crows picking through garbage strewn sand. But for a brief period of the year which officials designate as "summer beach season", the beach is cleaned up, a remarkable city is constructed on the sand, and Kamakura Beach is just like Rio's Copacabana Beach without the crime and the volleyball. It is bizarre to witness how much resources the Japanese officials and corporate sponsors invest in this temporary beach-house metropolis -- especially taking into account that during the course of the typical beach season the whole beach city is blown apart several times by typhoons and needs to be rebuilt.

As you would expect, this little beach city provided us hot showers and lockers and a wonderful array of Thai and Okinawan beach cuisine. But what was surprising was the splendid entertainment provided: Thai fire dancing and exotic pole dancers. Yes, the pole-dancing was PG-rated entertainment, and not completely consistent with the squeaky clean, family image of our training club, but pole dancing has gone mainstream in recent years as a fitness regime, and several female teammates are taking it up for cross-training purposes to build core strength.

In addition to ogling scantily clad pole dancers, eating green curry on the sand, running in the jungle, and frolicking in the surf after a hot run, I managed to do something useful -- a one-hour swim with Mika and Keren. After my struggles at Lake Stevens Triathlon, I vow to train more in open-water.

Running in San Francisco

During my week in San Francisco I manage to run two of my favorite courses:

1. Golden Gate Bridge 20k Loop - (MAP)
Surely this is the most spectacular 20k urban run in the world.
The run starts along Crissy Field, a military air strip that has been lovingly restored to wetlands -- this is where all of San Francisco's 20-something professionals run - creating a moving dating meat market - as well as an impressive display of running talent.
Most people turn around after the Golden Gate Bridge, but I think the best part of the run is to continue out through the Presidio, Baker Beach, and the upscale Seacliff neighborhood to Lands End, and then along Ocean Beach. There are a variety of return routes, but for the most variety (and for old times sake) I run through Golden Gate Park and then straight north back through the Presidio.

2. Rancho San Antonio Park -
The mecca for Silicon Valley runners - 23 miles of great trails. Of course every high tech worker in the Valley seems to be out on their bike or running on this sunny July Sunday morning. As expected once we climb out of the forested canyon trails the crowds disappear and we wind our way up some 400 meters where we are rewarded with panoramic views of the entire Bay

Lake Stevens Triathlon

 

I was optimistic about achieving a good mark at the Lake Stevens Triathlon, perhaps even impressing my family and friends.  Whether I recorded a good personal performance or not, I looked forward to the sheer enjoyment of the day itself - anticipating a day like the Sado Triathlon where I burst out singing during much of the bike.

 

But the Lake Stevens Triathlon was just an ordeal, and my results disappointing.   So now all my impressions below are perhaps unfairly negative --

 

1. The course - 

The lake was a murky swamp, the bike course a tedious homogeneous journey through rural trailer trash blight, and much of the run was repeated loops through an industrial area.  The bicycle route was narrow and clogged with vehicular traffic which on two occasions forced me to slam on my brakes.

 

2. The local fan support -

The only local people we saw were the drivers in their SUVs and pickup trucks who were invariably flipping us off for daring to slow down traffic on Sunday morning.  (nothing like the support of the crazed people of New Zealand passionately cheering for every athlete all day long or the throngs of 90-year old Japanese ringing noisemakers along the bike course in pouring rain).

 

3. Race organization -

I am always grateful for the hard-working volunteers.  But amidst the constant chaos of Lake Stevens, I found myself missing the amazing diligence and precise organization of Japanese elementary school kids at aid stations, and the fussy elderly officials in their white hats and blazers.

 

4. My fellow Americans -  

Outside the US I am not accustomed to seeing large rolls of fat bulging over bicycle shorts. On Sunday I was shocked to see so many outright obese people participating in an event like a half-ironman.  What shocked me even more was to see how fast these overweight people were going.  And what really, really shocked me was when a heavy-set lady passed me... during the RUN.   I had recently read a thread on the Slowtwitch triathlon forum filled with mean-spirited rants about jumbo-sized US triathletes.  But as for me, I just wanted to express my admiration for how fast and determined they were given the extra pounds they were carrying.

 

5. My swim -

Why do I even bother training in a pool?

 

6. My transition - 

Why am I the only half-ironman distance triathlete who deems it worthwhile to spend 4 extra seconds to change from cycle shorts to run shorts?

 

7. Triathlon t-shirt - Superb.  But I left it in a drawer since I don't want to be reminded of the event.  

 

8.  My support - Much thanks to my parents, TC and Elaine for coming out to cheer me on.

 

9. What's next - After a few dark thoughts of abandoning the sport immediately after the race, I hope to redeem myself at Suzu.  But at Ironman Switzerland next year I plan to follow teammate Mary's strategy of doing minimalist bike training and just trying to coast along until the run.  And in Switzerland I plan to arrive earlier to recover from jet lag.

 

Countdown to Lake Stevens Triathlon

The race officials at Lake Stevens Triathlon registration are so impressed when they note that I have come all the way from "exotic" Tokyo - some 5,000 miles -- for the Lake Stevens Half-Ironman.   I don't want to point out that I was born in Seattle and actually used to run along Lake Stevens some 20 years ago.  The starting line is only a 20-minute drive from my parents house north of Seattle.

The 5,000 mile trip from exotic Tokyo on Wednesday was not optimal preparation for tomorrow's half-ironman.  I feel really jet-lagged.   But I decide that I have been whining about jet-lag too much and I will simply not let it enter my mind  tomorrow.  It is not something that thousands of milligrams of caffeine cannot solve.  And caffeine is in abundance here in Seattle.

 

The old bicycle I left at my parents starts to worry me.  As I look around at the bike check it seems apparent that my bike is easily the oldest, the heaviest, the cheapest in the entire field of 1,100 participants.  But I decide this isn't terribly important either.  Keren sends me an email exhorting me to pass as many people on $8,000 carbon bikes as possible. 
 

The fact that I haven't done any open water swims since last September could also be a source of concern.  Especially since the water will be cold in the morning and we will have little or no opportunity to warm up.  Nothing like the shock of icy water to precipitate panic and hyperventilation.  But I have swam frequently in choppy oceans, and a calm lake will not be intimidating.

All in all, my preparation for Lake Stevens has been adequate.  I may not be at the level I was for Sado last September, but I certainly should better the mark at my only official half-ironman - Wildflower in 2003.  And it will be fun.


 
 

Dog running

To support my triathlon lifestyle, pay off the huge yoga bill I have accumulated at Be Yoga, and push back the yonige (see my May 2006 blog posting), I have been thinking I need to find other sources of income. Since so much of my time (15 hours again last week) is pure training time, my colleagues have encouraged me to generate income from the sport I enjoy so much.

Alas I would have to improve by extraordinary lengths to generate prize money, my casual, instinctive training mindset does not lend itself to coaching, and as far as I know this blog does not achieve the level of traffic that could be monetized.

One thought is to hook my indoor cycle trainer to the electric power grid. Even better is the huge new industry of "dog running" as outlined in yesterday's New York Times article "They Take the Bounce Out of Bowser" In New York the going rate is $20 - $40 per dog , per run and business is growing 20% per year. Apparently pet owners find their dogs are too hyper to deal with, and simply walking the dog does not adequately exhaust the pet. I know from my own vast experience running with dogs how much they love to run and they are fine training partners, especially for tempo runs on trails.

Sudden frenzy of half-ironman training

At the airport lounge in New York I am seized by a burst of inspiration and I register for the Lake Stevens Half-Ironman.  Suddenly the prospect of actually competing in a triathlon to be held only a month later launches me into a week of frenzied of training:

June 9 -
I wake at dawn (jet-lag) and ride through empty streets to the Arakawa River.  Unsurprisingly I find my teammate Keren Miers is also cycling along the river this morning (Keren's training regiment for Japan Ironman is so intense that I presume he is doing intervals on a 24x7 basis).  On this morning he is comfortably cruising along at his ironman race pace.  I desperately struggle to keep up for a 20km stretch.  Keren talks about his ironman race strategy, but I am too winded to say anything in reply.

June 10 -
I wake a little past dawn (still jet-lag) and join Chuck, Mary, Manuel and Gary at Oi-futo.  In the afternoon I do painful and slow 15k run.

June 12 -
I strap my running shoes to the back of my bicycle and head up to a running track alongside the Arakawa bike trail.  I can just feel the disgust and dismay emanating from the other cyclists when they spot my shoes and bike bag clumsily bundled to the awkward-looking bike rack I affixed to my bike seat stem.  Cycling is 95% about looking cool and streamlined on your ultra light-weight bike.  The fact my shoe laces and bag are flapping in the wind is a grievous affront, a slap in the face to everything these more serious cyclists hold so dear.   But it is great training to jump off the bike after 75k and step right onto the 400 meter tartan track for a 5k at 20:00.

June 13 -
The one constant in my life - I run the grueling track intervals with Tokyo's most "serious" international running club.

June 14 -
I make the effort to swim in a "grown-up size" pool after months of lazy, hedonistic swim sessions at the 20-meter Roppongi Hills Spa.  Halfway through the first length of the 50-meter Sendagaya public pool I begin to worry about drowning -- 50 meters is just so far to swim without the comfort and reassurance of touching the side of the pool. I manage to calm down, collect myself, and do 2,400 meters. 

June 15 -
A long day of work combined with a short swim and a medium-length run.

June 16 -
An hour of furious pedaling on my indoor trainer followed by 24-kilometer long run.

So all this adds up to some 19 hours of triathlon training.  The experts do not recommend such a burst of training - any effect at all is more likely to be counter-productive.  But mentally I feel better knowing that I have done all this.

Running in New York

 

Of course the highlight of this week's business trip to New York is the opportunity to run in Central Park where I joined my friends Robin and Subash for a 10k jog with the Reservoir Dogs, a group of friendly and  relatively casual runners.  

It was the club's Recovery Run which was good for me since I was recovering from jet lag (OK, I tend to always be recovering from jet lag - being jet-lagged is my natural state) 

 
The 10 block run from the Waldorf Hotel to the Park up Lexington and Park Avenue at evening rush hour is not a smooth cruise, but a combination of walking combined with brief bursts of running in the bus lane allows me to cover the distance in less than 10 minutes.

The river of runners and cyclists circling the Park was remarkable on this summer evening - a steady stream  of twenty-something Wall Street types, many of them racing past us.  As intense as these runners appeared, Central Park did not seem nearly as high-caliber as Sydney's Harbor, or even Tokyo's Imperial Palace, perhaps because there were enough extremely slow joggers to bring the average speed down. 

Both the number and speed of the runners were even greater this morning when I ran with Jim Weissman at 6:30am.   What really impresses me is the packs of cyclists circumnavigating the Park at high speeds.  Next time I need to bring my bike.
 

5,000 meters - 17:26

Last night I attempt to shift gears and run a fast 5k at the Godo Time Trial.  Back in the halcyon days before my ironman training began, I have rose-tinted memories of  running much faster in shorter distances. 

I had no idea what to expect when I arrived at the track, but fortunately my teammate Juergen knows my condition better than I do, and told me firmly that I should run a 17:30.  I was also fortunate that another teammate, Gordon, was targeting 17:30 and led me through the first 3k.  Thanks to the cheers of other teammates who endured pouring rain to support us, I managed to  pick up the pace on the last 2k and run a respectable and gratifying 17:26.  Here are my rough splits:

3:31 / 3:29 / :3:35 / 3:27 / 3:24

Triathlon Step Cycles

Triathlon training programs typically follow a "Step Cycle" - three to four week blocks of training in which the first 2-3 weeks entail a heavier load and the last week offers a lighter training load for recovery.

Looking at my weekly training hours listed below you might remark on how diligently I have been following a train/recovery step cycle:

March 4 -10 11:00 hours
March 11- 17 16:00 hours
March 18-24 14:45 hours
March 25-31 4:15 hours
April 1 - 7 10:30 hours
April 8 - 15 12:00 hours
April 15 - 21 4:30 hours
April 22 - 28 11:00 hours
April 29 - 5/5 12:15 hours
May 6 - 12 4:15 hours

Well, actually rather than being a carefully calculated training program, I just found myself with some extra time on my hands in mid-March and so my triathlon training went from very little after the Tokyo Marathon, to a massive 16:00 hours the week of March 11. A business trip the week of March 25th forced me to cut back. The same pattern repeated itself the last 4 weeks with a business trip to Europe forcing me to cut back my swim and cycling to nothing, then returning from two weeks in the US wiped me out last week.

I am convinced this pattern of build and recovery is effective. I am just not so certain that it is ideal that the recovery be composed of a hectic business trip entailing very little sleep. In the optimal training situation, the recovery week is composed of sleeping, lounging around on soft pillows, receiving massages and sipping carbohydrate/protein milkshakes -- not seven flights in 10 days.