Running at Google

On Friday I traveled to the Googleplex, Google's headquarters in Mountain View California, to run with my Berkeley classmate Glen and the Google employee lunch run group  

I thought about

 complaining about all the problems I have loading pictures and charts into this blog (Blogger is owned by Google), and complain about my startup's poor ROI on our adwords campaign.  But I am just way too exhaused as we race around the landfill area next to SF Bay.  As you might expect at Google, the runners are intense - several are competitive triathletes.  

Supposedly even Google has been forced to cutback on expenses during the global economic crisis - but any austerity drive was not apparent to me.  After the run we quenched our thirst with unlimited free smoothy drinks and showered in the comfortable employee changing rooms.  And it is a challenge to choose from the unlimited free food prepared by world-class chefs in the cafeteria - spicy green curry soup, black sea bass, masala chicken - it went on and on.  

Palo Alto Tri Club

I lived in Palo Alto, California from roughly 1997-2002.  In those days I thought a lot about becoming a triathlete but did little other than bike through the rolling Peninsula hills and occasionally join a group jog on Wednesday nights through the streets of Palo Alto.

 

On Wednesday, I finally make it back to the weekly 5.5 mile run.  Of course I intended to keep up with the leaders and demonstrate how impressive I have become.  However I get cutoff at a light at around 2 miles and never manage to catch up. 

Just like in Tokyo the group goes out to a Vietnamese restaurant after the run.  Vietnamese food seems to have become the universal choice among run clubs.  Except in this case it is a spacious restaurant in a strip mall along El Camino rather than a cavernous hole-in-the-wall.   And I also could also tell this was America because with everyone at dinner talked about their jobs and their investment portfolios.

Sitting there it felt that nothing had changed since 2002, but then I recall that at least now I have some claim of being a real triathlete.   

Shibuya Ekiden

My teammates in our 4-man relay last Sunday really set me up for glory.  I was the anchor runner and was handed the sash in second place in the field, 5-seconds behind the lead master's team.

Within 500 yards I managed to catch the leader, and then stayed behind him, thinking maybe I should just wait until the last 100 meters and t

ry to sprint.  But, as captured in this picture, I surged into lead at around 

1k and held on to cross the tape 12-seconds ahead of second place.

Here are my teammates and team sponsors, Juergen and Fabrizio, amidst the 

extravagant Shibuya award celebration.  

Beer mile

I ran a beer mile yesterday.  

A beer mile entails drinking one beer befo

re each of the 400 meter laps that make up a mile. 

Why would I do this?  

I had heard a lot of discussion of the beer mile from my teammates and studied the beer mile website and was simply curious -- how would I do?

I did terrible. 

When the starting gun went off I realized quite quickly that I ca

nnot drink a can of beer as quickly as other people.  I caught up with many of the other participants on the first 400 meter run lap and felt fine run

ning.  But then I had to choke down a second beer which seemed to take forever and I found myself in last place.  The third beer took me 2-3 minutes to consume, and the fourth beer was not much faster.  It felt so good to stop drinking the horrid beer and be able to run.  I still felt quite strong and fast running even the 4th 400 meter lap.  Though on the 4th lap of the race I somehow got lost.  Apparently I was a bit drunk by this point - none of the other 20 odd runners seem to have gotten lost on the simple loop through the park.   

"You are not a strong drinker are you Jay?" asked Satohi, Japan's number one beer miler who finished in an extraordinary time of 8:10.  Apparently drinking is not my strength.

Next year I am hoping for a coffee mile. 

Training in Laos (3)

The global credit crisis has made it more difficult to support the high cost of training in Tokyo. Several other triathlete friends are thinking of relocating to Laos where we can survive on less than US$10 per day.

The biking is a bit rougher, so we need to re-focus a bit on competing in the Xterra type events which entail mountain biking and trail running. I managed to find some good cycling and hiking routes along the Mekong and was able to begin preparation for the Saipan and Ome-Takamizu events in the Spring.

Triathlon Training in Laos (2)

Vang Vieng proves to be another fine city for triathlon training. I plunge into the scenic Nam Song river for swim training and the water appears clean and free of snakes, piranhas and villagers doing laundry. In fact the only real hazard is dodging the flying drunken bodies. A third of the way into my swim I round a bend and come upon the most surreal site -- an enormous and elaborate deck bar perched above the river with a huge slide and rope swing and hundreds of inebriated, bikini-clad Australian and European young woman swaying to blaring Laotian pop music - it reminds me of the Suzie Q entertainment scene in the movie Apocalypse Now. As always I stay focused on my swim technique.

The next morning at dawn I run up in the limestone hills surrounding the town Most travelers take the jarring, spine-crushing trucks to explore the caves. Running is much more easy and sublime - especially at this hour when it is just me and a few cows and villagers.

Running in Luang Prabang

Luang Prabang proves to be a fine city for triathlon training. This is especially true if you wake at 6am for 12k run along the Mekong river and around the historical former capital of Laos. The best thing about running so early is stumbling onto the quintessential Luang Prabang experience: the procession of saffron-robed monks collecting alms from the townspeople lining the street. It was quite magical to accidently discover this on a quiet edge of town. I try to be respectful and try not to gawk too much at the monks. Upon reaching the center of town the alms-giving process deteriorates into a tourist spectacle with throngs of westerners with cameras and local vendors.

Okutama Ekiden

I reluctantly agree to participate in the Okutama Ekiden this past Sunday. Reluctantly because of the logistic challenges of the traditional ekiden - a running relay with individual legs from train station to train station.

These logistics require that each team member carry the warm clothes to change into for the runner handing off to him. Of course I am late and screw everything up. So I need to run well to redeem myself. I manage 29:30 on the downhill 8.5k anchor leg and pass 7 other teams. Everyone is delighted and says this is a good performance.

And in the end it seems very much worth the time and effort to enjoy the highly traditional and scenic Okutama Ekiden.

.

Mr. Donut

- I manage a 36:22 10k at Ohtawara last Sunday despite my feeble mileage.












- Solette, Staffan, and Mary from the US all are captivated by the unique Japanese running experience













- In the end it is all about coffee and honey-dips at Mr. Donut

Fast Seattle Women

I wished to get in at least one quality training session during my 3 weeks in the US.  So last night I returned to Seattle's Green Lake track to run with the unfriendly running club mentioned in my June 28 post.  

The group may not offer a warm welcome, but they certainly provide a rigorous workout:

4x1000 at 3:25 with a mere 60-second rest, then after a brisk 10 minute run we launched into 4x400 in 77, 75, 73 and finally a blowout 69-seconds.

I was roughly in the middle of the group of about 30 runners.  Maybe that is not surprising.  But get this - running right around me (and ahead of me) were 7-8 women, several around 40 years old.  So much for my dismissing all American woman runners as overweight, 7-hour marathoners carrying balloons and raising money for charities. The woman next to me, Susan, was 39-years old and had run a 2;47 marathon last year.  

Edogawa 10k

I participated in the Edogawa 10k yesterday, an event I have enjoyed in the past for its convenient location, elaborate award ceremony, festive post-race lunch and casual ambiance. Problem was that this year I was absurdly over-confident about running a good time going into the run.

At least through the first 4 kilometers I did feel reasonably OK - maintaining a steady 3:33 pace. But I found myself increasingly worried to be so winded and also to find myself ahead of faster teammate Gerard. I kept thinking that surely I should be able to run a pace significantly faster than the 36:48 10k portion of the Murakami Triathlon. But this proved to be wishful thinking.

I faded dramatically over the last half of the race and was clocked in 36:32.

Of course I could still enjoy the elaborate award ceremony. Here are pictures of me struggling to follow the proper marching and bowing rituals and receiving an incredibly heavy bronze medal for my 3rd place age-group finish. Naturally I am thinking to melt the medal down and sell the bronze to pay for food given my precarious financial situation now that all my projects are losing their financing.

Murakami Triathlon

I am astonished to run 36:48 for the 10k run portion of the Murakami Triathlon Sunday. I am astonished I could run 36:48 at all, let alone after pushing through a 72-minute 40k ride. So despite the fact that stormy weather forced the cancellation of the swim portion of the event, my second triathlon event of 2008 proved another fine adventure.

When we arrived in Murakami on Saturday we were met by fierce winds blowing in from Siberia and huge foaming breakers crashing on the beach. Since I have been laser-focused on swimming this summer I was disappointed when the officials replaced the swim with a 1k beach run in heavy sand to start the event.

As usual I was unorganized during the final hour before the triathlon start. I felt reluctant to take my bike to the official race bike mechanic knowing I would be met with scorn and disgust, but I am so clueless about bike mechanics and could not get my front wheel to spin true. Sure enough the bike doctor was shocked and horrified by all the rust and neglect. I could not understand most of his grumbling in Japanese as he struggled with my bike, but what I picked up on was clearly shock and disdain: "hidoi, maintenance wa dame desu, toriazu shoganai..." I had pinched my front brake cable when I reattached my aero bars and lost various bolts and my front spokes were completely rusted, but thanks to the last second adjustments it appeared that my bike could survive another event.

When the starting gun went off I high-stepped through the sand as best I could, entering the bike transition zone about 10-seconds ahead of most of my teammates. But alas they overtook me right away, despite all my effort to prepare and focus on a fast transition.

The 40k ride along the Sea of Japan coastline was scenic with the huge waves breaking on the rocky shore. I rode well - my approximate time of 1:12 is a PB for this distance though I struggled a bit in some wind after the turnaround and during a short downpour toward the end of the ride.

Perhaps I slacked off a bit on the bike to save strength for the run, but I think I pushed pretty hard and my thighs felt sore when I dashed out of the second transition zone. And yet the bike ride did not seem to slow my run down at all. I felt like I was moving fast and this was confirmed when I saw my 2k split of 7:15. I passed Phil Ryan around 3k and he told me Anthony was just up ahead which further emboldened me. I hoped to finish ahead of the upstart Anthony who has just started doing triathlons this year, but who is clearly a natural talent. I finally managed to pass Anthony at about 7k as I maintained a steady 3:40 per kilometer pace to the finish.

My effort was good for 3rd place out of 49 runners in my division.

Murakami Triathlon Preparation

I have been thinking I should change the blog's subtitle to "NOT training for a triathlon in Tokyo" or most accurately "Complaining about bicycling in Tokyo"

As is so often the case over the last several years, I have a whole litany of complaints about cycling training.

I had hoped to do at least a half-dozen good rides leading up to Sunday's Murakami Triathlon.  But then a bizarre series of flat tire problems eliminated 3 crucial rides.  Of course these flat tire problems were largely a result of my own neglect and my ineptitude with mounting the tube properly and starting my rides so late in the day.

I was thinking I was swimming and running reasonably well, but this is meaningless when your bike leg is slow and your legs are shot after the bike.

Beijing Olympics 5

It is my last night in Beijing and naturally I am compelled to experience another track and field session.  So I wade into the throngs of ticket scalpers lined up outside the Olympic Village entrance and spot a young Chinese holding a ticket for that night.  When I try to begin negotiating he frantically gestures for me to follow him and leads me to a nearby building entrance.  Apparently the Chinese authorities are still frowning on this market clearing mechanism.  The young seller types out his asking price of 1500 yuan (US$215) on his cell phone. I point to my watch to indicate the fact the session is already starting and offer 200 yuan.  I am a bit surprised when he indignantly marches off, and I grow concerned as I walk along the gate and all the tickets held up for offer are for events on later days.  Then a burly Australian walks up beside me, asks if I need tickets, and asks 700 yuan.  I respond that I can pay half that and I discretely slip him cash as we stride past the Chinese security forces and chat about US hopes against the Jamaicans.  It is a win-win transaction; the Australian is no doubt delighted to unload his ticket at the last second at 350 (50 yuan below the face value) and I am delighted to get back in the Birds Nest.

One of the really great things about attending these international events is the camaraderie with fans from all over the world.  I find myself sitting next to Ivan, a young 800-meter junior champion from Ukraine and a boisterous group of Estonians.  They are all so extremely excited to learn I am from the US and they hug me with joy when Americans Dawn Harper and Jeremy Wariner win their respective races and try to console me when the British sprinter overtakes Sanya Richards in the 400.  Of course we all go crazy when Estonia wins the discus throw.

One other thing that just does not come through on TV is the emotional power of the medal award ceremonies.  When everything else at the track stopped and 90,000 fans rose for the New Zealand national anthem for the woman's shot put gold medalist on Sunday both Christian and I were deeply moved.  For New Zealand!  For the woman's shot put!  an event we had not even seen or even thought about prior to that moment.

Beijing Olympics 4

I attend the Athletics competition at the Birds Nest Sunday night. It is amazing to actually be at the Olympics. I feel goose bumps when we came out of the subway and in the distance I catch sight of the huge Olympic torch in the distance.

Only ticket-holders can go through wide perimeter security tents to get into the main Olympic Village. It is like entering a magical new world. Granted it is a bit of a corporate sponsor world with numerous Coca-Cola and McDonalds kiosks, Visa ATMs, and Bank of China VIP tents.

As amazing as the competition is, the architecture may be more memorable for me. It is breathtaking to see from different angles. Christian and I cannot stop take pictures in front of the Birds Nest and Water Cube. Most of the other 100,000 spectators are also posing in front of the stadiums as well.

The restrooms are hidden, the concourses are long and steep, the concession lines slow, but none of this detracts much from the magic of being at Olympics.