2007 Gear Review

As we all know, the sport is really just about buying stuff. Actually engaging in outdoor activity is a necessary evil to justify all these heavy expenses and trips to the store. With that thought in mind, here is my 2007 gear review:


1. Sports performance insoles - (Foot disc)
An amazing miracle cure. My shins and IT Band had been aching for weeks. After being analyzed and fitted with the insoles I felt better that night. Visiting a podiatrist would probably be even more effective, but would cost significantly more than the cost of my insoles - approximately $20.


2. Swim Goggles - Aqua Sphere Kaiman
Goggles have been an area of great paranoia for me. I seem to have an oddly shaped face and most of the leading goggle brands leak horribly. But Aqua Sphere fits perfectly. Moreover with the Kaiman, swimming in crowed open waters is less of murky, dark ordeal - the visibility is that much better. Definitely recommend trying on Kaiman.


3. Compression tights (2XU)
Apparently the idea is that these tights wrap around certain muscle groups to accelerate blood flow and oxygen delivery to muscles, and eliminate lactic acid. The wrapping effect also reduces muscle vibration which results in less muscle soreness and reduces recovery times. Hmmm. I was skeptical, but my legs do feel better. Moreover the compression tights are light, warm, and wick moisture well (and people say they look cool). Downside - they are really tight. All in all I would definitely recommend anyone buying a tight to spend a little extra (well probably a lot extra: $50-100) and get compression tights.


4. Neck gaiter
People like to point out to me how my hair is thin on top and thus I should wear a hat to keep 80% of body warmth from escaping through the top of my head. This does not seem true at all. OK, the part about my hair being thin on top may be true, but it is does not seem true that I need to keep the top of my head warm -- it is my ears I need to keep warm. But invariably after wearing a hat while doing exercise I get too hot and find myself carrying it. Then putting it back on. Then taking it off. Then eventually getting tired of carrying it and putting it down somewhere and losing it. The beauty of neck gaiter is that it provides a self-regulating system of rotating between my ears and neck depending on degree of warmth required.


5. Other -
I did not buy any other gear this year. Frankly, I truly hate shopping.

Kamakura Christmas 2007

The 25k run in Kamakura is becoming a fine holiday tradition. December is an ideal time for a group run through the hills and temples and beaches.

I have been contemplating buying a new camera for some time, but I am so much better served to rely on the great photography of my teammates -- like these shots from Renald --

Mitake Mountain

I certainly recommend the Mitake Marathon. I particularly recommend it to visitors to Japan seeking a quintessential Japan athletic experience. Mitake contains a number of wonderfully Japan running elements:

1. A brutal climb - Other countries have hill climbs, but a 1,000 people at an obscure, local race on a December morning? All bursting up an amazing steep incline when the starting gun goes off? All maintaining a hard pace for several agonizing kilometers?

2. Scenic - Where else in the world does a race take you through a "Rock Garden" where participants leap from rock to rock past waterfalls and moss-covered stones? The course also extends along ridges with sweeping views of the 30 million residents of the Kanto Plain, and over forested hills with colorful autumn leaves.

3. Crowd support - People of all ages in the most remote areas yelling out the ritual words of polite encouragement: "nice fighto desu" and "gambatte kudasai"

4. Shinto Shrines - The marathon finishes at the 2,000 year old Musashi-Mitake Shrine

5. Onsen - This is the real cool part of the Mitake experience. All participant's race numbers correspond to one of the numerous onsens near the finish line. After a hard trail run on brisk December morning, everyone is welcomed at an atmospheric inn, and within minutes of finishing is soaking in a steaming hot springs bath.

I ran OK. The first couple kilometers are absurdly steep, but since they are the first few kilometers of a race everyone runs hard. I decided it would be almost as fast to walk. My thinking was I would pick it up when I got to the top. Unfortunately we ran into the tail end of the first wave, so I could only pick up the pace so much. But this allowed me enjoy the scenery more.

I had been warned about the steep downhill plunge at 13k, but it did not seem so bad. I held onto the support ropes as much as possible on the way down to avoid plummeting to my death (or at least avoid the embarrassment and bruises Eric Fitzpatrick suffered coming down this cliff last year).

Bizarre as this might sound, I was disappointed to realize the race was ending. I actually wanted to run farther. Partly because I felt I had energy and could pass more people. Partly because I was enjoying the course. Somehow the varied terrain of a trail run allows me to run much farther than a flat paved course.

I hope to do the Ome-Takamizu 30k trail run on April 1st.

Short Intervals

Grown-ups are supposed to run longer, slower distances right?  I mean once you get out of high school gym class if you run at all it is marathon distances or at least 10k, but certainly not sprinting 200s on a track. 

Nonetheless, this past Monday I found myself doing a workout of 4x200, 3x330, 2x400, with Gerard and Juergen.  I blasted through the 200s in 33-seconds desperately trying to stay between my compatriots and surprisingly managed to do the 400s in under 70 seconds.

Short intervals are usually defined as repeat distances of less than 600 meters usually done at a fairly high level of intensity.  Even for marathoners, short intervals are recommended during the early build phase of training.  I have heard of the benefits of short interval training for a long time, but have been too lazy to make the effort.  But now with my hopes of redeeming myself I am trying again.   Believe it or not it actually was rather fun.

I will try to follow-up in later postings regarding any perceived benefits from short intervals.

 
 

Back from abyss?

My training has continued to spiral ever downward. Last Friday saw me plunge into the darkest abyss yet. I struggled through a pathetic and humiliating performance at the Ohtawara 10k - staggering across the finish line in 37:25.

My teammates tried to be polite and supportive, but it was impossible for them to hide their disdain and embarrassment for me. Several suggested I am washed up and my days in endurance sports should come to a merciful end: "Perhaps you should think about taking up more sedentary pastimes Jay - maybe darts? crossword puzzles? rock-scissors-paper tournaments?"

On Monday morning I could feel a searing pain in my IT Band every time I stood up after sitting for a long time. After a slow shuffling training run and a gasping, sputtering swim on Monday afternoon, I sank into complete despair and began gathering up my triathlon equipment and dragging it out of the apartment to dump in the recycling bin. But then as I started to toss my swim goggles and bike cleats into the bin for plastic, non-burnable recyclables, I begun to think about my teammates counting on me at the ekiden, and all our plans for Ironman China. What would my Grandma Magda think if I just gave up? Hadn't I been taught - A quitter never wins and winner never quits, and when the going gets tough, the tough get going?

So I dragged my gear back to my apartment and did some stretching and strength drills. Then I went to B&D Sports and had my foot plant and stance re-examined and bought some high-arch, high-cushion shoe inserts and new training flats. On Wednesday night I went to the weekly track workout and stuck behind Yoshida-san for 5-kilometers in 17:31 at an almost precise 3:30 per kilometer pace.

I still have a long way to go, but today I am feeling better that I can eventually get back on track.

Running in Qingdao

The city of Qingdao is famous among triathletes, but famous for its
Tsingtao Beer not for running or cycling courses. I only had one
free afternoon to experience the city, so naturally I decided to put
together an epic running course covering most of the city's
sightseeing highlights. I could not find much information on Qingdao,
but after scrutinizing the hotel map, I set out on a course that would
take over five hours of running/hiking/walking from east to west with
a taxi ride in the middle.

I had a taxi drop me off on the far eastern edge of greater Qingdao at
LaoShan Mountain's Taiquing Tao Temple.
It was beautiful autumn day and with the help of friendly locals I
found a path leading up the mountain looping around the coast and then
back along a ridge that parallels the coast. The path took me past
waterfalls and granite rock formations for about 10k (here is map of
this section of run).
http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/china/qingdao/514601474
(use the map's satellite view)

I was descending from mountain after close to 90 minutes of
running/hiking when I met a group of Danish and Canadian travelers
with whom I shared a taxi back to center of town. They had done a
much better job negotiating taxi fares out to Lao Shan and back. I
was told to expect to pay $30 to hire a taxi to get out to LaoShan
(one-way) and congratulated myself to have paid $20. My new friends
only paid $15 (for the round-trip) -- one of the advantages of staying
at a youth hostel. One of them told me (rather apologetically) that
he was on a "whirlwind" China trip of only 5-weeks and was spending a
mere 4-days in Qingdao. I hated to admit that I was only spending 36
hours in Qingdao, and had been thinking even that a rather extravagant
use of time.

The center of Qingdao is a forest of gleaming skyscrapers and
fountains and Starbucks and well-dressed urban professionals. I
re-started my run at the Sea Fountain, a strange piece of plop art
that the Qingdao city officials seem intent on making the symbol of
Qingdao (rather than the more familiar image of a Tsingtao beer
bottle). I ran along on impressive series of urban beaches where the
2008 Olympic sailing competition will be held. It was a weekday but
the beach was filled with wedding parties shooting wedding portraits
at sunset. I lost count of the brides in wedding dresses after 20.

The 9 kilometers along the waterfront path in the late afternoon was
great running. But for me the highlight of running in Qingdao was the
last 5 kilometers of my run in the older western section of the city.
I weaved my way up and down the streets filled with magnificent
colonial architecture. It felt just like being in Germany except
there were more Chinese restaurants.

Here is a map of the second half of my run:
http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/china/qingdao/302931086
Again use satellite image to see this

Running in Shanghai

Shanghai is another city I have visited frequently and always stuck on
the hotel treadmills since the sidewalks seemed so crowded, and the
streets far too perilous to run across. But I had heard rumors of a
mecca of running in Shanghai - Century Park - and sure enough on a
sunny Saturday morning in November I saw dozens of runners circling
the perimeter sidewalk of the huge park. The park's outside
perimeter path is approximately 5km which seems to be the global
standard for urban running loops (Tokyo's Imperial Palace, Seattle's
Green Lake, NY Central Park...). This may be the only place in
Shanghai where you can cover 5km without encountering a single
stoplight or cross traffic.

Being a tourist, I opted to pay the 10 RMB (US$1.30) and do part of my
12k run inside the park. Despite the throngs of local Chinese
families (invariably one child, two parents, four grandparents), most
of the park trails are quiet and empty. I managed two laps inside the
park before I joined the local runners streaming around the perimeter
sidewalk for half a lap. About half the runners appear to be foreign
expats and I learn from one that on my next trip to Shanghai I need to
come to Century Park's Gate 7 on Tuesday nights at 7:30pm for the
festive, weekly YiQiPao group run.

Century Park is on the Pudong side of Shanghai - adjacent to the
global financial district the Chinese government has built from empty
swampland over the past two decades. The park is right on the Metro
Line subway and my taxi ride back to the other side of town costs me
US$6

Mileage base

With the triathlon season over, you would think that I would be
laser-focused on run training.

Last summer and autumn I ran so little that when I increased my
mileage to prepare for the Tokyo Marathon I was beset my a whole
assortment of over-training injuries (shin splints, hip pain, back
pain). So I had grand ambitions of building a better mileage base
this year, and until mid-September I was largely on track. However a
lingering virus, travel, and minor hip pain have conspired to shatter
these plans.

The rule of thumb is never increase mileage by more than 10% per week,
so now as I finally start to run consistently I am still limited in my
training. Here is my monthly mileage: (in kilometers)

Gobi Desert Half-Marathon

After having such a fine time last December at the Angkor Wat
Half-Marathon, my more adventurous teammates were determined to find
another interesting destination that included a running event to serve
as something of a focal point. Isobel and Renald quickly identified
the Gobi Desert Half-Marathon, but for months I was reluctant to
commit to an itinerary that sounded so... uncomfortable. But I had
always hoped to be able to tell people that I have been to Mongolia,
and I figured this was one of my few opportunities.

In fact running the Gobi Desert Half-Marathon proved to be a fine
excuse for a surprisingly exotic journey to Mongolia, and a superb way
to experience Mongolia in an relatively authentic manner. Like most
of us I cling to the conceit that I am traveler experiencing something
"real" not a tourist being herded through a traditional packaged tour
of trinket shops and tired native dance performances for the
foreigners. The marathon created a shared goal with a group of local
Mongolians -- a shared sense of mission.

The run was the easy part - the real mission and fun was the journey
to and from the event. Ulaan Batar was far more modern and
comfortable than I expected, but outside the capital the pavement
stops and much of the life seemed to have changed very little since
the days of Ghengis Khan.

The other challenge was carbo-loading: the Mongolian diet is a steady
course of heavy, oily mutton, beef and goat milk - what you would
expect in a land-locked desert country of nomadic herdsman, but the
opposite of the light California/Asian cuisine I survive on.

After a plane ride down to the Gobi Desert we overnighted in a Ger
Camp then the whole field headed out to the middle-of-nowhere for the
start of the race. A local Mongolian in street shoes went out ahead
of me at 4:30 pace for the first few kilometers before I took the
lead. I was enjoying the solitude and vastness of desert when I heard
a support van behind me - the driver pulled up alongside and starting
shouting and gesturing. I smiled and thanked them for their support.
This went on for a little while before it became clear that the driver
wanted me to get in the jeep because I had somehow wandered off course
and was heading into miles of desolate wasteland.

Before being plucked out of remote desert I had ran past a lone
nomadic Mongolian family sitting in front of Ger. The family looked a
bit surprised to see a foreign runner emerging out of the vast
nothingness of the Gobi. They broke into wide Mongolian smiles as
they caught site of me and my Namban singlet and begun to shout and
wave. I could not be clear what they were shouting but I think it was
something like "Go Namban, go fellow barbarian horde, Bob/Genghis,
go, run" -- or something like that.

The course offers a dramatic finish line - the flaming cliffs - an
amazing red rock formation and even more amazing concentration of
dinosaur fossils. The team from Tokyo was impatient to finish the
half-marathon so we could scramble along the cliffs and dig up
dinosaur fossils and then head out on a little post marathon camel
riding into the sunset.

The return journey to Ulan Batar by jeep was even more of an adventure
--miles of rolling desert punctuated by tiny towns that truly feel
like they are at the ends of the earth. We spent a night in a Tibetan
Monastary recently rebuilt after decades of communist rule. We had
the inevitable jeep breakdown in the most remote possible spot. I
wandered off into the desert thinking I saw a Starbucks on the distant
horizon - it turned out to be a mirage, and my teammates managed to
track me down.

All of the expats and Mongolians with us agreed that the nomadic
lifestyle is starting to vanish, and will be largely gone in a
generation. It seems only a matter of time until the gers and camels
will primarily be trotted out for purposes of adventure tourism. But
don't despair - we are looking at another trip to Mongolia in less
than six months - the Baikal Ice Marathon next March is in Siberia
just north of Mongolia and will allow for yet another Mongolian
mission.

Terry Fox Run

I participate in the Terry Fox Charity Run this past Sunday. The
course is near my apartment, it is a nice social opportunity, and it
seems like a good idea to do a tempo run. The Terry Fox organizers
don't provide awards, they don't use timing chips, they don't even
provide race numbers. They don't provide race numbers since it is not
supposed to be a "race" – rather it is a commemoration of Terry Fox, a
young Canadian battling Leukemia who ran every day for about 40 Km to
raise money for cancer research. So I envisioned the Terry Fox 10k as
a friendly casual charity event with none of the aggressive
competitiveness that my team is so notorious for.

But of course I had to stay with Gordon and Christian.

Then when Gordon dropped out at 5k I found myself right behind the
pace bike. The volunteer on the pace bike barrelled through the
crowded sidewalk around the Palace clearing a path and I felt
compelled to stay right behind him though his sub-4 pace was faster
than I wanted to run. "Chotto matte" I shouted at him, but to no
avail. I repeatedly apologized and thanked the other participants and
tourists as they leaped out of our way. Thanks to the zeal and
determination of the pace bike, the second 5k loop turned out even
faster than the first (18:40 vs. 19:20). My charity tempo run turned
into another duel to death - this time the duel was with Christian who
unleashed a furious kick at the end (then amazingly continued straight
on into three more sub 25-minute loops of the Palace).

Given my recent struggle with hip pain and 23k run in the mountains
the day before, a 38 minute 10k seems to indicate I am in reasonably
good shape.

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.

Cycling on Whidbey Island

Seattle may rank on par with Mogadishu and Karachi in the global city rankings of quality of life, and I have to assume my hometown's poor showing is driven by the gridlocked traffic, constant rain, Mariner pitching, high suicide rates, etc. However when it comes to cycling, I am even more convinced that the area is among the best in the world.

Last week I took a 20-minute ferry boat ride from my parent's home in Mukilteo to Whidbey Island and rediscovered miles and miles of quiet, almost car-free roads.

Here is a rough map of my approximately 50-mile route.

Most of the ride was through forests of Douglas Firs, past small farms and along the waterfront. My ride included the town of Langley which seems to be composed almost entirely of bed-and-breakfasts and art galleries. This being the Seattle area there was no shortage of cafes selling organic coffee.

In addition to the Whidbey Island ride, I rode for 40 miles along Seattle's most popular route, the Burke-Gliman Sammamish Trail. This is a 41-mile dedicated bike path that runs from the center of the city out to Seattle's eastern suburbs. I joined the trail near Lake Forest Park and followed a huge pack of cyclists north along Lake Washington. The trail becomes quite rural, leading past wineries and houseboats before it terminates near the Death Star (Microsoft Headquarters) in the town of Redmond.

Unlike Australia or Tokyo, most of the riders on the trail seemed rather casual, and not the least bit competitive. In fact I observed an unusually large number of cyclists pulling dogs in carts, and at least a third of the other cyclists were on tandem bikes.

Running in Zurich

The consulting firm Mercer ranked the Swiss city of Zurich number one among global cities in its 2007 quality of life ratings (Tokyo is 35th. My hometown, Seattle, at a distant 49th at least managed to edge out Dhaka and Port Au Prince).

I certainly found Zurich a pleasant place during my stay there this past week. Everywhere I looked was so aesthetically perfect that it ceased to seem real, and felt more like a movie set or a Las Vegas casino faux version of a European city.

Of course the real criteria of livability for the readers of this blog centers around triathlon conditions. I can report that Zurich ranks pretty high on these standards. Most impressive was the sight of people swimming in the clear blue water of Lake Zurich right outside of the center of the city. In April no less. I also saw a number of cyclists on the bike lane around the 55-kilometer lake.

As far as running, fellow Nambanner and native of Zurich, Christian Sommer, suggested a wonderful course from where I was staying in the center of Zurich, the Hotel Schweizerhof; http://map.search.ch/8023/bahnhofplatz-7

The only real traffic I encountered during the entire 15km run was the trams and train commuters pouring onto the street just outside my hotel at 7am (people start work early in Zurich). After negotiating the first 200 meters from my hotel to the river, I was never forced to stop for traffic. I crossed a pedestrian bridge and followed the Linmat (river) straight out to the lake, running along the "Gold Coast" side of the lake until I reached China Garden, a gift of Kunming. I then returned back to the river, take the first bridge and continuing my run on the other side of the lake. It was all very convenient and efficient. Apparently if I had just a bit more time, the nearby mountain forests offer even more appealing runs.

While I am not yet convinced Zurich would rank at the very top of my triathlon location list (cycling must be tough in January), it was certainly scenic and efficient. Now I am pondering signing up for 2008 edition of Ironman Switzerland

Running in Edinburgh

Now I understand why Edinburgh has produced such great runners. The city center is remarkably compact and remarkably hilly, and my 15k, seventy minute run incorporated several ideal running areas and wonderful scenery. (MAP)

I was told that Scottish triathletes thrive by consuming lots of haggis, the local delicacy. Determined to emulate their stamina and keep my protein intake up, I had a hearty meal of haggis and mashed potatoes upon my arrival in Edinburgh and found it quite tasty with a smoky spicy flavor and nutty texture. I later learned was made from sheep`s guts (intestines, liver, hearts, lungs..) sauteed in the sheep`s stomach and then mixed with onions, oatmeal, herbs and spices.

Sufficiently fueled by my fine meal, I headed out yesterday morning at 630am from my hotel, The Scotsman, a building much like Harry Potter`s school Hogswarts. I ran down the Royal Mile, a medieval street scape which took me to Holyrood Park an extinct volcano that looms over the east side of the old city center. I followed a dirt ridge trail up around the mountain which provided a panoramic view back at the spires and castle towers of Edinburgh.

Coming down out of Holyrood it was only a few blocks to The Meadows, an expansive lawn crisscrossed by tree-lined paths. Apparently this is the running epicenter of Edinburgh, I spotted a half-dozen other runners around the perimeter. After a few kilometers around The Meadows I climbed a bike path through the University of Edinburgh campus to the Castle.

then looped back through town to the hotel.

The hotel manager told me that the Edinburgh marathon is coming up in May and Edinburgh is such a wonderful town that I am tempted to stay for it.

Running in London

 

Having run with throngs of competitive runners around NY's Central Park, Tokyo's Imperial Palace, Sydney Harbor, etc., and given the British reputation in the sport, I was expecting to be jostled by packs of fast, fellow runners around London's Hyde Park yesterday morning.  

 

Instead the run was an experience in wilderness solitude, more like a hike into the depths of the Olympic Mountains.  I was all alone in the vast emptiness of the Park even at the seemingly peak hour of 7:30am.  Finally I spotted another runner far, far in the distance, but as he approached I noted he was wearing an Iowa Hawkeye shirt which made me doubt he was a local Londoner.   

 

I begun to doubt that the British were such serious athletes after all, but then after a full day in central London it became increasingly apparent that no actual English people live or even seem to work in London at all.  The Russian and Saudi billionaires who do reside in the homes surrounding Hyde Park would not appear to be avid endurance athletes. 

 

Shame too, since Hyde Park is a splendid urban run with the perimeter trail creating at least a 7-kilometer loop and wonderful views of lakes, gardens and the vast open fields.  

 

Ishigaki-jima Triathlon

Today's Ishigaki Island Olympic Distance Triathlon had been the focus of my March training. But, alas, I am off in Europe this week on a business trip and could not join teammates Keren and Motoza for the tropical island adventure.

A large incentive for participating in the Ishigaki-jima triathlon was the excuse to visit the magical Okinawan islands of Ishigaki and Irimote.

But perhaps more importantly、it has become increasingly crucial to me to always have some upcoming target events for endurance sports. The events serve to greatly enhance my motivation, performance and overall enjoyment of the sport.

Now the question is what am I aiming for? What is the purpose of my current training? My teammates are urging me to sign up for another grueling Japan Ironman in June, however the Lake Stevens Half-Ironman in early July has a certain appeal.

Running in Sydney

Americans have a reputation for the diligence and intensity of their exercise regime, but the runners in NY's Central Park and along the ocean trail in LA are a casual bunch compared to the morning runners around Sydney's harbour.

I struggled to get out the door of my hotel Friday at the painful hour of 6:30am and was quickly greeted with an impressive sunrise over the harbour and the impressive sight of the iconic Opera House and Harbour Bridge. I was also almost immediately passed by a pack of 7 runners doing some sort of fartlek type workout. I thought this was an isolated case, but as I ran through the Royal Botanical Garden another group zoomed up beside me. Everywhere there were runners, swimmers, and people doing yoga. The most intense scene of all was at a steep set of stairs on a hillside at Macquarie Point which was filled with people doing stair repeats.

I have heard that Australia is a large and spacious place, but I cannot confirm this, my two trips to the country being confined to business meetings in the canyons of Sydney's central business district. But I certainly can say that the 6k loop around Sydney's harbour and domain is a great urban run.

Running in Hong Kong

 

I traveled to Hong Kong a dozen times, never venturing beyond the monotony of the hotel treadmill for my workout.  So it was a revelation when my Hong Kong savvy friend Mitch showed me an impressive network of trails less than a kilometer from my hotel in HK's Central business district.

 

Apparently Bowen Road, a 4k stretch of flat, wide pedestrian-only paved trail running a long a ridge, is something of a mecca for HK runners.   Hong Kong has fallen out of favor as a running location with horrific waves of toxic smog blowing in from the factories of China, but I saw more than 20 other runners during our hour run, more runners even that people walking their pets.  

 

The views from Bowen Road were impressive, but then Mitch and I ran up the almost vertical Wanchai Gap trail to a loop around the top of Hong Kong island via Middle Gap Road, dirt trails, and Blacks Link which provided even more amazing views.  As we finished the run in the early evening, the lights of Hong Kong's skyscrapers seemed close enough to touch, even as we descended through a dense jungle. 
 

No more treadmills for me in Hong Kong.

 

Transition

• One day of recovery is required for each of the marathon's 26 miles according to some ancient wisdom. 
• Several of my teammates entered races within three weeks of completing a marathon, and suffered debilitating injuries that left them shells of their former running selves for years afterwards.
• Cutting Edge  Runner insists on AT LEAST 2 weeks of "transition" after a major endurance event.

I keep this all in mind as I begin swimming and cycling training in earnest these past three weeks since the February 18 Tokyo marathon.  In fact my muscles do feel sore, and I have been almost continually fighting off a cold.  But the sun has been shining, work has been slow, and my teammates Keren and Mary asking me to join them on rides along the river.  What can one do?  Here is my weekly triathlon training totals over the past five weeks:

Jan 28 - Feb 3     5:30 total hours  / Run  59 km / Swim 3km / Bike  0     (taper)
Feb 4 -  Feb 10    6:45 total hours / Run  58 km / Swim 5km / Bike 0      (taper)
Feb 11 - Feb 17   4:45 total hours / Run  18 km / Swim 4km / Bike 20km (taper)
Feb 18 - Feb 24   7:00 total hours / Run  47 km / Swim 3km / Bike 0     (marathon)
Feb 25 -  Mar 3  10:00 total hours / Run  32 km / Swim 5km / Bike 125k  (recovery)
Mar 4 -  Mar 10  11:00 total hours / Run  37 km / Swim 5km / Bike 120k  (recovery)

Tokyo Marathon

I ran well at the Tokyo Marathon Sunday, finishing in 2:55:50, a personal best by over 10 minutes.

When I say I ran well, what I mostly mean is my pacing. Or to a certain extent Martin Verdier's pacing, since we ran together and traded off on pace for almost the entire run. Here are my 5k (gun) splits:

5k 22:32
10k 20:26
15k 20:28
20k 20:39
25k 20:35
30k 20:29
35k 20:45
40k 21:07
42k 9:18

Among the most challenging aspects of the day was coping with handing in my bag of warm clothes and then waiting in driving rain at the starting line. After that, the running felt relatively easy, at least until we reached the first turnaround at 15k and faced a bit of headwind.

When I reached the halfway mark in 1:28:20 I wondered about my chances of breaking 3 hours. I was already tiring, and everyone knows that marathoners slow down after 30k. That I actually managed to run a slightly faster second-half of the race could be attributed to:
1. Gels - 30grams of carbohydrates every 35-minutes
2. Martin and the other supporters - Elite athletes stay within themselves and focus on form, but talking and cheering other people helped me considerably
3. The psychological boost of overtaking 2,500 runners from the 2k mark to the finish.
4. Long training runs - My overall training was moderate, but I did four quality 30k-plus runs in the final weeks leading up to the marathon plus many long trail runs

Apparently I was 353rd overall. Given the caliber of the local running community, I am surprised to finish so high.

When I staggered to the finish of the Seattle Marathon in a time of 3:07 I told myself that I would be back and break 3 hours. Well it took 26 years, but it is good to finally run sub 3 hours (as evidenced by the film footage of the finish

Caffeine Taper - 2

Clearly the lack of caffeine is taking a terrible toll on me. I have been irritable and can't concentrate at work. I am staggering through the day, my mind in a thick fog and my head throbbing.

The plan was to cut down to less than 50mg per day of caffeine (the equivalent of half of a small cup of coffee), in the days leading up to the marathon, then get the boost of a triple espresso on Sunday morning, 45 minutes before the marathon. But this afternoon I broke down and bought a short Americano.

As I sit here sipping my caffeinated beverage, a sense of well-being and peace begins to seep back through my consciousness. But at the same time I am shattered to think I will still be wrestling with the coffee demons on Sunday morning.

Recalling my last marathon

In order to gain perspective on Sunday's marathon effort, I try to remember what I experienced the last time I ran a marathon*.  But the last time I ran a marathon was so very, very, very long ago (hint - Jimmy Carter was still in the White House), that all recollection is fuzzy.  I vaguely recall the following:

1. The rain -  Unrelenting cold wind and rain gusted off Seattle's Lake Washington.  It was a typical November day in Seattle.  No matter how wet it gets this Sunday, I am not terribly concerned about the impact on my run.  I am concerned that rain will dampen the crowd and fun and socializing (isn't this the main point of the event?).

2. The wall - I faded badly around 20 miles, walking much of the last few miles with other runners shouting encouragement as they went by me.  They say that the mind cannot remember pain, but I remembered it well enough that I did not enter another marathon for over a quarter century.  I have no recollection what I consumed during the marathon, but I am certain now that it was grossly inadequate, and a factor in my meltdown.  One of my main process goals on Sunday is to eat a gel or banana every 30 minutes.

3. My result - I finished in about 3:07.  So if I run reasonably OK on Sunday, I should be able to establish a new personal best time.  The marathon is one of the few major running distances where I have a realistic chance of posting a new lifetime PB. 

* In this case I am not considering the 42.1 kilometers of Ironman to be a "marathon".  The walking/running tactics and constant eating make it seem like a different event entirely.

Asics store

Today I visit Asics' first brand store, which opened this week in the Ginza area of Tokyo.

More than just a shoe store, the company says it is seeking to facilitate a whole "running lifestyle". I am signed up as one of the first store "members," though I have not yet achieved blue or platinum membership, so I don't know if I can use the shower facilities or join the group training run.

Of course the evil empire, Nike, launched their own dedicated, destination retail outlet, "Nike Town" years ago - with its overwhelming, in-your-face, videos, loud music, signage, colorful lights, lots of Maria Sharapova and Lebron James. All Las Vegas style hype not really aimed at the serious athlete.

The Asics store on the other hand is an austere, stark space of brushed metal and bright white light, like a contemporary art museum, with running shoes displayed like precious pieces of modern art.

The curators, I mean sales staff, in their sharp black outfits, intently explain the product features with loving reverence. The whole process certainly reinforced my image of the Asics brand as a being technologically superior.

Caffeine Taper

In preparation for the marathon, other athletes are focusing on reducing their mileage and increasing carbohydrate intake. Not me. I am focused on reducing my caffeine intake. This "caffeine taper" is crucial to surviving 3+ hours of grueling caffeine deprivation (not to mention running).

This week I began diluting my daily morning coffee (not my afternoon coffee though). Friday morning I blended one spoonful of decaffeinated coffee and two spoonfuls of the regular caffeinated stuff. Today I blended 50% decaffeinated and 50% caffeinated. The dream is to achieve a low coffee consumption level by next Sunday. Wish me luck.

Kanagawa

You may not think a running event that starts from a cooking oil factory, runs for 5 kilometers under a concrete expressway, past a sewage treatment plant, around a large electric power station and then back under the expressway sounds so terribly appealing.  And if that doesn't sound bad enough, you have to repeat the whole thing twice.  But the Kanagawa Half-Marathon is one of the highlights of the winter running schedule here, and so on Sunday I traveled to the Kanagawa Half an hour south of Tokyo with 17 of my teammates.

Prior to the run, I had a very clear vision of race strategy - teammates Martin Verdier and Juergen and I would run together at a pace of around 3:50 per kilometer (which would feel magically comfortable), then we would try to pick it up a bit toward the end.  This idyllic fantasy seemed to be materializing for the first 5 kilometers.  Martin and I caught up with a Juergen after a quick start and we all ran as a team.  I tried to encourage our squad to stay together loudly singing the Sister Sledge song:
"We are fa-ma-ly-
Mar-tin and Juer-gen and me"
and referring to us as the three musketeers (trois musketeers corrected our French teammate Martin). Teruyuki ran with us for a while so we were the four musketeers (or quatre musketeers).  Around 5k Juergen begun warning us that the our pace was too fast, but tragically I failed to heed his warning and soon it was down to just deux musketeers - Martin and I. 

My strength quickly began to drain away, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable, but still hung on to this 3:45 pace up to the 16 kilometer mark at which point the wheels came off completely and everything went terribly, terribly wrong.  Martin looked back at me and I waved him off with a "gambatte".  As I struggled slowly through the final 5-kilometers, I repeatedly smiled and shouted when I saw a Nambanner running past in the opposite direction, sortof a sad, pathetic effort to put on a front, as if to say "noo proooblem - I may be bent over and shuffling and drooling, but actually this is only my training pace and I am feeling just chipper".

Of course one thing kept me going - knowing a bottle of cooking oil straight off the assembly line is waiting at the finish line.   In the end it was all worth it -- I got my cooking oil, and over french toast and coffee at Denny's we all regaled each other with our tales of our exploits earlier in the day amidst the freeways, sewage plants and factories.

Winter Training Update

This ostensibly being a triathlon training blog, I suppose it is about time I summarize my training. Since early December my cycling has dwindled to nothing (due to cold weather and disenchantment with riding around the Oifuto cycling course). I am hoping that when I start cycling again in March, this 10-week layoff will not have caused too great a loss of conditioning. Meanwhile I have continued to swim 2-3 times per week, while increasing my running to 4 times per week in January from 3 times per week throughout most of 2006. This increased run training includes longer "cruise intervals" on Wednesday nights, and for the past 3 weeks, long runs at Tokyo's imperial palace. Here is total weekly triathlon training hours and weekly running mileage for the past 11 weeks:

Week / Triathlon Hours / Running Mileage
Nov 12 - 18 9:30 hours 18 km
Nov 19 - 26 9:00 hours 67 km
Nov 26- 12/2 7:30 hours 37 km
Dec 3 - 9 8:30 hours 56 km
Dec 10 - 16 2:00 hours 18 km
Dec 17 - 23 4:30 hours 48 km
Dec 24 - 30 10:30 hours 55 km
Dec 31 - 1/6 5:30 hours 39 km
Jan 7 - 13 9:30 hours 68 km
Jan 14 - 20 9:15 hours 78 km
Jan 21 - 27 8:15 hours 70 km

Wallet Mystery

Among my most consistent rituals is the Wednesday night track workout. At the track, like everywhere in Japan I have been completely unconcerned about crime (in contrast to say when I lived near South-Central Los Angeles in the early 1990s and one was expected to maintain a state of vigilance on a 24-hour basis). After a while you just grow relaxed here -- twice in Japan I have left my wallet on the train and each time it returned, cash intact. Once I left my passport on a public phone, and another time I left my cell phone in a taxi and again they were quickly returned to me. So when I finish my running workout and shower and my wallet is not in my pants pocket I immediately assume I somehow dropped it. However, I cannot find the wallet in a quick search of the surrounding area, and I know I must have had the wallet when I arrived at the locker room and put my pants in the locker. My locker was only unlocked for a matter of minutes while I showered, and surely no one would brazenly reach into the locker, take out my trousers, remove my wallet, and then neatly fold and replace my pants in that time? I start to grow concerned when the lost & found at the track office does not have my wallet and they send me to the nearby koban (the neighborhood police box).

I spend hours at the koban, a bizarrely low-tech process -- the police officer scribbles notes on tiny scraps of paper and then with glacial slowness rewrites them into a multi-page report which I certify by applying a thumbprint in dozens of different spots. The report is all in Japanese so I have no idea what I am actually certifying.

By the time I am through at the Koban it is late at night but I still am able to catch up with a few teammates nearby and manage to borrow a few thousand yen from Chris to get home and buy a rice ball for dinner. The effort and concern on the part of the Japanese teammates and track staff is astonishing -

• the area garbage collectors are put on alert to look for a wallet as they sort the trash
  
• a team of student assistants is mobilized to scour every locker
  
• Namban teammate, Chiba-san, contacts various local officials to pressure them to crack this heinous case
  

But days pass and the wallet does not materialize. Technically I am supposed to replace my alien registration card right away, but I naively cling to the expectation that my wallet will appear in my mailbox any day now.

Shibuya Ekiden

This past weekend witnessed the Shibuya Ekiden (a running relay, which entailed 4 participants each running 2.6 kilometers). I am a "captain" for the Namban Rengo Veteran B team, which was perhaps way too much responsibility for me given my constant befuddlement at the arcane rules and regulations involved in even the most casual of Japanese weekend athletic events. Thanks to my more Japan-savvy teammates we seem to have successfully registered, figured out the various sashes (which serve as batons), and negotiated the transition area and course itself (without further straining international relations).
I am in no shape to run such a short-distance, but my teammates, particularly our leadoff runner Fabrizio, run spectacularly and we finish third in our division. As a marching band plays, and hundreds of race officials look on, we receive our bronze medals in the elaborate award ceremony --