Simon vs. Lance

Someone had to do it; someone had to put Lance Armstrong in his place.  So why not first ever Olympic Gold Medalist and all round nice guy, Simon Whitfield?  The two have recently raged a war of words through the popular social media site Twitter after the brash Texan slighted the Olympic-distance triathlon – Simon’s event – as merely “a shampoo, blow dry and a 10k foot race”.  Really Lance?  So brace yourself all you ‘Lance-aholics’  out there as I’m about to unleash a serious ‘hate-on’ for the seven-time Tour De France winner.

Let's get ready to RUUUUUMBLE!!!

First off, yes, I realize that before Lance pedaled off to conquer France he was a triathlete himself, and a rather good one by all accounts.  But since then, it has become increasingly difficult to separate the man from the myth.  I mean, what hasn’t  this guy got going for himself? First and foremost, he conquered the European cycling world and elevated it something just above Women’s Bocce as a spectator sport.  Pre-Lance, the professional cycling world was relatively unheard of, nor appreciated here in North America.  To us it seemed a rather boring sport. It was a sport for weirdoes in costume to spend all day by the side of the road on top of a remote French mountainside waiting for the moment when a gaggle of riders in tight shorts raced by at 80 mph only to disappear again over the horizon a few moments later. Shit, at that point I’d probably have rather watched Jessica Tandy trim her pubic hair. After all, how can you get excited over, what, 30 seconds of action just for the opportunity to cheer “Pedal, le bitches, pedal!”   Of course, my interests and opinions have changed a lot since then and largely thanks to Lance Armstrong. 

Even before that, there was the whole testicular cancer thing and that ever-popular yellow LIVESTRONG silicon rubber wrist band trend that continues to plague us today.  Now, suddenly, everybody has a bracelet including anti-smoking, cystic fibrosis, AIDS, racism, tsunami relief, poverty, supporting overseas troops, Autism, even the fucking Discovery Channel has one available for its loyal legions of couch potato academics.  The whole rubber awareness bracelet trend just exploded outward with the force equitable to that of the first ‘Big Bang’ that gave birth to this crazy solar system.  Thanks Lance!  Of course, he also bikes around Central Park with that gimp Robin Williams and for a while was banging, arguably, the hottest woman in rock and roll, Sheryl Crow, who’s days, while being filled with winding roads, must have also been filled with multiple screaming orgasms thanks to Lance’s functional lightsaber he wields as a penis.  Hell, depending on who you believe, he also single-handedly built the pyramids at Giza, the temples at Chichen Itza, and the complex at Machu Picchu in six days using only an ice pick and sandpaper. In fact, those gigantic carved circles in the remote coastline mountains of Peru aren’t really ancient flying saucer landing pads, but actually the huge circular impressions of Lance Armstrong’s balls when he sat down briefly to rest on the seventh day. Lance Armstrong can walk on water, not because he is Jesus; but because the normal force as described by Newton in his modern law of physics does not apply to him – the guy is simply that fucking awesome.  Shit, I bet you could bottle his piss and make millions marketing it as a cure for herpes.  And, now, Lance has returned to the world of triathlon.

In his first comeback race at the Panama 70.3, he finished second and then snubbed the winner by refusing to shake his hand.  Nice.  Next he finished seventh at the Memorial Hermann Ironman in Texas in April, and this time he snubbed…his daughter as she tried to aware him his participant’s medal.  I guess Lance has no use for such insignificant hardware.  Next on the Armstrong agenda: Ironman. Maybe this time he’ll cross the finish line and kick Dave Scott in the junk…who knows?

In the meantime, you have to understand…it’s all about Lance.  It always has been.  Hence his recent criticism of the Olympic style of racing I guess.  The argument stems from the age-old debate regarding drafting.  In the Olympic triathlon model, hugging the rear wheel of another cyclist, thus conserving energy and presumably saving your legs for the run portion of the race, is completely legal. At the 2000 Olympics, this tactic was utilized to the fullest extent when other Team Canada member Colin Jenkins, ‘took one for the team’  so to speak, by blazing a trail through the swim and bike course and therefore sacrificing himself by allowing Simon the opportunity to ride on his tail and slingshot himself onto the run course at full gas and ultimately the medal podium.  Jenkins finished dead last.  In Ironman racing, Lance’s event of choice, there is no drafting.  There is no teamwork whatsoever.

Lance criticized this racing tactic in his tweet by saying:

Lance Armstrong: “is a draft legal tri ‘the race of truth?’ NO. I certainly never called it a joke.”  And then again later with, “Just feel as if drafting ought NEVER to be allowed.”

But hold on, is Lance claiming that he is somehow opposed to team work?  Pardon?  Isn’t the very nature of multi-day cycling team based in itself?  How likely would his seven “maillot jaune’s”   have been without a team there to assist him?  Sure Simon had Colin at the time, but didn’t Lance have Floyd Landis, George Hincapie, and Tyler Hamilton among others to help him?  And what did they get in return?  Convicted charges for EPO doping for which Lance himself was also accused but acquitted.  Hello?  At least Colin got the official recognition from Simon that he was both owed and deserved and the two are still friends and occasional riding partners to boot.  How often do you think Lance rides with poor Floyd or Georgie?  No, now he merely passes them off as “trolls”.  Nice.

So while I may recognize that Lance is colder than a polar bears asshole, and I genuinely loathe him with intensity of a thousand Christian Bales, I also realize that this type of self-centered attitude is indicative of long distance athletes.  I think it’s just a bi-product of covering hundreds of kilometers in a single week, largely on your own in periods of physical and mental duress.  Would I love to have a Colin Jenkins sometimes?  Absolutely!  But do I want one?  No.  But I do appreciate the concept of ‘team’ at that professional level…something Lance seems to have forgotten, or simply ignored because it doesn’t happen to jive with his current interest.  And as far as Lance goes, he wouldn’t be able to get close enough to read the name WHITFIELD  emblazoned across Simon’s rear end anyway, so who gives a shit what he thinks.  I hopped off the Lance bus a long time ago.

In fact, I hope the ‘Whitfield Express’ backs up over him a few times on the way to another Gold in London at this summer’s Olympic Games.  Of course, Lance being Lance, he’ll still create and maintain the ultimate media attention in his bid to do whatever.  After all, it’s all about Lance.

Reflections of a Born-Again Runner

• Long Bike (click to see stats)
• Long (Brick) Run (click to see stats)
• 70.52k (2:33:19) – 16.75k (1:26:53)
• Avg. Heart Rate = 130 bpm – 154 bpm
• Max. Heart Rate = 150 bpm – 165 bpm
• Avg. Speed/Pace = 27.6/kph – 05:11 min/km
• Best Speed/Pace = 39.6/kph – 04:16 min/km
• Calories = 4653
• Temp = 3º
• Nutrition:  1 btl. Perpetuem (bike), 1 pkg. Sport Beans (run)
• SOTD: ‘Camelot’  by Bronx Cheerleader

“If you think it’s impossible, please don’t interrupt me while I get it done.”

Today marked my first long brick session of what promises to be a long, and often painful training season leading into September’s challenge (Ironman Wales).  I had originally planned to do this workout yesterday but given the near sub-zero temperature and the gale force rains that poured all afternoon off Lake Erie, I decided to err on the side of caution and headed indoors for a pool workout instead.  But there was no escaping the inevitable this morning. It was still damn cold but at least it was dry.

The bike ride was, for the most part, uneventful, except for the bitter cold northerly winds that whipped down the Niagara Parkway turning my poor feet into slabs of ice.  I even had to break my pace once to stop and resuscitate some circulation back into my toes with my hands for fear that I was getting frost-bitten (in April no less).  Seriously, they looked like frozen breakfast sausages.  I used to scoff at the idea of those faggy-looking neoprene bicycle booties that I see some other riders wearing; instead preferring the ‘suck it up, buttercup’  philosophy of training.  But I’ve already made up my mind to bite the bullet and purchase a pair for next season – most definitely.  I did end up with my first flat tire of the season early into the ride, but I managed to change it with little difficulty and was back on my way quickly.  Good show.

Of course, the post-ride run (brick) is really where the fun ceases to happen in my opinion.  Bike riding is usually fun, even at the worst of times but, running…not so much.  Some days you run for speed, some days for distance, and some days you just run to leave something behind.  Today felt like one of those days.  I tend to get into my own head a lot while running. Particularly, when my feet feel like blocks of frozen meat.  As a means of dealing with the initial discomfort early into the run this afternoon, I started to recollect my earliest memories of running as a child.

My first foray into the world of running occurred back in grade school as part of the cross-country team.  In short, I sucked at it but I enjoyed the thrill of competition even then.  In Grades 3 and 4, there was no such thing as ‘training’ unless you counted the odd sprint to the candy store for penny candy had you been lucky enough to find a quarter in the street as “training”.  The meets back then were only about 2-3k,  which is still a long way when you’re only knee-high to a grasshopper.  It was always me bringing up the rear with Sipacert Changsovang, the exchange student also from my school vying to be dead fucking last.  For the most part we walked, picked the daisies, or skipped stones across the creek at Burgoyne Park where the races were held, and then maybe jog for the last 300/400m  once the spectators came into view before we sprinted the last 50m  or so to avoid being last; it was usually me though.  Lord knows why I put myself through it but it was my habit to join everything…even though I bit at it all equally.

Once, a few years later, as a “warm up” to the ‘Terry Fox Charity Run’ I had signed up for, I decided to jog to my grandparent’s house; a distance of about 8k.  I had no concept of base training back then and have no idea what got into my head, but I set out to ‘practice’ and got the idea to go see grandma.  I remember the sweat dripping into my eyes and the burning in my legs as I trudged along the same ‘Merrit Trail’ that runs along the old 3^rd Welland Canal that I train on now.  By the time I arrived, nearly three hours after setting out, I was totally spent and in some serious pain.  In fact, I couldn’t walk for nearly a week afterwards.  Oh well, live and learn.  I feasted on peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts removed and happily accepted bus fare in order to get home again.  Thank God!

I also did some running in high school, albeit reluctantly.  The reason this time had nothing to do with competition, but rather as a requirement for gym class.  I recall running endless laps around the track behind the school – or what we considered a ‘track’ anyway.  In actuality, it was just a worn dirt path that happened to form a loose circle around the football field.  Making matters worse, our teacher Mr. Newman usually ran with us…typically at the back of the pack with us fat and slow kids.  Mr. Newman also had this gross habit of blowing snot out his nostrils as he ran; something affectionately known now among runners and cyclists as a ‘farmers blow’.  So the entire time we ran those afternoon Nazi death marches on that dirt track we had to either stay just ahead of him or risk being hit in the face with wads of freshly expunged balls of mucus.  Talk about motivation!

Fast forward to present day.  I still think running blows and I don’t consider myself a ‘runner’ so much as I do a guy who happens to run…albeit frequently.  And as I was having this thought, I checked my Garmin.  To my surprise, I had been maintaining a comfortable 5:11/kph  pace through the back country roads as the feeling returned to my feet and my legs warmed to the task at hand.  In fact, I felt strong.  I was really given’er considering I had already ridden 70k  that morning.  It’s as if after all these years of poor running and hating it, I had suddenly developed something resembling skill.  Who knew?

Moreover, my legs felt fine afterwards.  I wasn’t limping, not in any great pain and still felt relatively good.  Huh.  I needed this confidence booster early in the season as the thought of attempting my first marathon distance run after a 180k  ride and a 4k  open water swim has been literally giving me nightmares.  However, suddenly, the impossible now seems possible.  Maybe I can do this.  I still have a long way to go, and lots more long bricks to complete before I get there, but I’m not scared anymore.  And, dare I say it, I’m actually beginning to enjoy this whole running thing.

Scary…I know!

You Know You’re a Triathlete When…

As I’m already into my fourth, and what promised to be my most significant season yet, I have learned that the sport of triathlon is not so much a hobby or an interest as it is a total lifestyle overhaul.  Speaking for myself, the last three years that I’ve dedicated to this sport were not so much a total renovation on my life as they were a complete teardown.  Simply put:  I’m not the same guy I was when I started, or even the same guy I was last year.  I continue to grow, to develop, to learn, and get better.  Hell, I’m like the ‘Six Million Dollar Man’…just a bit chubbier.  Oh, and I don’t wear red jump suits.

Be all that as it may, it occurred to me that I view life very different now.  I’ll say it:  triathletes are weirdos.  We have to be.  Why else would we be up at the crack of dawn and burn more calories before we make into the office at 9:00am than most people burn all day; never mind what we do when we get home.  So how do you know if you’ve successfully made this cross over to become a dedicated triathlete?

Well, here are 30 typical signs that might suggest there’s no turning back now.

1. You don’t giggle anymore when someone uses the word ‘Fartlek’.
2. You can plow through a whopping plate of pancakes and sausage and go back for seconds with a clear conscience.
3. Popping blisters is as every much part of the morning ritual as pooping and brushing your teeth.
4. You don’t mind your spinach in liquid form.
5. When someone yells ‘Go long!’,  you’re gone for hours.
6. Your cologne of choice is chlorine.
7. You consider Clif bars as a legitimate food group.
8. At any given moment you know exactly where your heart rate monitor and your swim goggles are, but cannot remember where you left your car keys.
9. You consider ‘bonking’ a bad thing.
10. Whenever you’re handed a cup of water, you have to immediately resist the urge to pour it over your head.
11. Your apartment and work place is littered with half full water bottles
12. You time yourself each time you put on your shoes and socks to go outside.
13. Your bike costs more than your car.
14. You shout “on your left”  when passing people in the aisles at the grocery store.
15. You have more pairs of shoes than Imelda Marcos.
16. You wait a couple of days to take your car in when the “check engine light”  goes on, but when your bike needs a tune up you take it right away.
17. Your annual energy expenditure is comparable to that output by a small electricity generation plant.
18. The owner of the local shoe shop runs his hands together when you walk in the door.  No, he isn’t glad to see you, he’s thinking that this may well be the day your yearly expenditure in the shop tops the US GDP.
19. Your workmates have given up asking “what are you up to this weekend?”  knowing that the reply will always be the same, ie. “training”. The only variation is “racing”.
20. You take most of your showers at the gym and you keep extra soap, and deodorant there.
21. You haven’t bought work clothes in years, yet you own bike shorts and running tops made by every manufacturer under the sun.
22. You use the words “only”  and “10k”  in the same sentence.
23. IM no longer refers to ‘instant message’.
24. You have a swim cap to accessorize with every possible tri suit on the market.
25. When you can’t conceive of sight-seeing unless it’s from the saddle of your bike.
26. Whenever you cut yourself shaving, you bleed chocolate milk.
27. When you’re asked for your age, you typically respond with your age category (35-39) instead.
28. You take your resting heart rate (RHT) first thing in the morning, even before you take a dump.
29. After a long workout, you bring your recovery drink into the shower or while sitting on the toilet afterwards.
30. You spend more on a pair of sunglasses than you make in a month.

My Tri-Shit (Part 2)

Just about everything has found its place now.  It’s either within arm’s reach of leaving or entering the front door, conveniently stashed away for later use, or laying out in the open much to my girlfriend’s dismay.  Whatever the case, it is very apparently to those in the know that a budding triathlete leaves here; to others, it stills says: “what is all this shit”?

The front door dumping ground...

Everyone I assume has a convenient nook and/or cranny to stash their stuff when they enter the house, and then retrieve it again when they leave.  Mine just happens to hold more than just my wallet and keys.  Besides the coffee tin full of loose change (yes, I pick up loose change on my easier runs – hey, it nearly paid for an entire vacation to ‘Meh-hee-co’  last year, remember?), I keep a coconut bowl with my assortment of running and cycling sunglasses, a tire repair kit and chain oil, and a tube of wetsuit cement glue.  Oh, let’s not forget my little baggie of toilet paper for my runs on the off-chance that I might need to…never mind.

Hydration personified

Now, you really know when you’re in the home of an endurance athlete when every conceivable level piece of surface in the home is sporting a collection of water bottles.  So let it be sung from the rooftops:  I have LOTS of water bottles; I could drink from a fresh bottle every day of the month if I wanted to.  And this doesn’t even include those on my desk at work, in the car, or those still fixed to my bike.  I probably drink more out of cylindrical plastic or metal containers than anything else throughout the day.  In fact, drinking out of an actual glass feels somewhat ‘fancy’ now.

Daisy in her her glory

Here’s Daisy, my faithful steed.  She will soon be relocated to her new digs in the backyard shed come nicer weather, but for the time being she is loving stashed away in the basement ‘workout room’ with the rest of my immediate riding equipment (riding gloves, helmet, etc.).

The old-school home yoga studio stereo system

Also in this ‘workout room’ (I know, right?  How lucky am I!), is my cheapo stereo unit complete with vinyl record player to listen to while I stretch post-workout.  I haven’t found a convenient yoga studio out here in the sticks yet, so I’m making the best of it at home with my own home yoga practice.  To that regard, we have all the toys:  blocks, rollers, matt, Pilate’s balls, yoga guides and headphones for when I really decide to get into it and block everything else out.  Personally, I like to listen to old jazz and other classic albums while twisting myself into a pretzel.

Compulsory triathlon gear.

Here’s an absolute triathlon training essential if you ask me: my iPod.  Much to my coaches’ disapproval at times, I still consider my tunes as absolutely critical to any successful and invigorating workout, and for that iTunes is my savior.  Structuring out a playlist on my home computer prior to any long run is as much a part of the routine as taking a dump before, and coffee and a stretch afterwards. What can I say?  Sometimes I do enjoy running sans-tunes, say, if it’s foggy or in the early morning or at night but, mostly, I look forward to getting lost in my playlists or intended live concert recording.

Pick yer poison...

Now, I wouldn’t be much of a triathlete unless I had a collection of training guides, magazines, and other assorted triathlon-based literature lying around would I?

It's whats for dinner...

Part of any successful training regimen is a healthy diet to fuel workouts, as well as assist in recovering from them, so I have amassing a collection of cookbooks and recipe magazines that I draw inspiration from.  I showed you already some of the nutritional staples of this diet plan, but knowing how and when to use them is also paramount to its overall success.  Besides, I have found they make better coffee-table ‘curio-reading’ for visitors than, say, ‘Penthouse Letters’.  Who knew smut would ever go out of style?

The Big Drawer 'o Shirts n' Shorts

So if you thought that I had a lot of shoes in Part 1, boy, you haven’t seen anything yet.  I have an entire drawer full of running, cycling and tri-shirts, dry-fit shirts, and compression gear.  Likewise, I have more event and race shirts than you can shake a stick at.  Each year, about half goes to the local Good Will while some become bike rags and dish towels.  I keep those that will either fit the best, that I have some fond sentimental attachment for, or are just some funky color that stands out from the crowd.

And still more shirts n' shit...

Also, I have an entire spot in my closet dedicated to my growing collecting of riding jerseys and tri-suits. Yeah, I went a little crazy once while shopping in the Megamall (located in the Philippines) when I saw how inexpensive they were compared to here in North America.  Now, there’s no need to go all ‘Queer-Eye for the Triathlete Guy’  here, I just like having the variety since, as my girlfriend will tell you, I pretty much reek by the time I get home from any long ride.  So having some back-up’s is ideal given that I don’t do a load of laundry each and every day (which I could easily if I wanted).  And, no dear, my other “Ugly Shirts” are not hidden among them.

And the rest of it...

Oh yeah, and let’s not forget the cardboard box that keeps everything else, including my Yak Traxs, hydration bottles, bicycle arm and leg warmers, cycling gloves, sunglasses, a variety of different colored swim caps, and all the other assorted crap.  This just sits out of the way in the darkest recesses of my closet until needed.  If my professional career doesn’t turn out the way I hope it does, at least I will always have the option of becoming a secondhand triathlon equipment salesman.

The Bitter Truth About Chocolate

• Long (Easy) Run (click to see stats)
• 11.25k (1:00:01)
• Avg. Heart Rate = 147 bpm
• Max. Heart Rate = 154 bpm
• Avg. Pace = 5:20 min/km
• Best Pace = 4:30 min/km
• Calories = 1069
• Temp = 11º
• SOTD: ‘Gold on the Ceiling’  by The Black Keys

It’s the Easter weekend, and you know what that means:  C-H-O-C-O-L-A-T-E. 

Yes, Easter, the Jan Brady of holidays; that confusing mass consumer-based holiday whose true religious significance has evolved into something so banal that its very ridiculousness can knock you over the head with all the weight of a four-ton Cadbury’s Cream Egg.  I mean, seriously, how bunnies and chocolate eggs became associated with the crucifixion of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ is beyond me and entirely worthy of a completely separate blog post.  As a matter of fact, if you’re interested, you can click HERE  for more info.

What this specific weekend represents for me, however, is just another training day with one additional twist:  the tempting lure of that heavenly milk-chocolately goodness afterwards.  At approximately .023k  into my long run, or about the 3 second mark of my 11.25k  easy run (recovery week), the craving sets in and it’s all I think about with each strive and passing kilometer.  Total workout killer!  Hey, I like my chocolate bunnies as much as the next guy – maybe even more – and if I don’t do all this triathlon shit for the odd guilt-free indulgence then what the hell am I doing it for?

But, this begs the ultimate question then, ARE there any plausible excuses to indulge – even if just a little – in some chocolately Easter goodness.  I wonder if there are any health benefits for chocolate.  In an effort then to explain and rationalize those ample chocolate stains around my lips and the protruding belly poking out from under my running shorts after I pass out on the couch from a self-induced sugar high once my girlfriend gets home from work, I figured I’d Google it and see what justifications I could find as possible defense.

As it turns out, there is!  But first let’s come clean on one thing:  we’re really discussing the pros of chocolate in its purest form – as close to the bean as you can get. If you want me to tell you a Milky Way bar is good for you, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.  Nor can I ever expect to completely justify inhaling copious amounts of Cadbury’s mini eggs by the bucketful; no one would ever buy it.  That doesn’t mean, however, that there aren’t any chocolate bars that are good for you. The key is to find a bar with high cocoa content. The higher the cocoa content, the less room there is for cocoa butter, sugar, lecithin, vanilla, milk, and all the other tasty stuff that makes chocolate less of a vegetable and more of a candy.  Dark chocolate might require a little getting used to in the beginning, but with some research and dedicated sampling, there are some pretty delectable options out there even you might pay a bit more for them.  But, hey, it’s chocolate we’re talking about here, bitch, and good things in life are seldom cheap.

Now having said that, just what are the amazing health benefits of chocolate? Most notably, chocolate is a champion antioxidant.  Antioxidants help rid the body of free radicals, nasty little molecules running amok in your body which cause aging, disease and just about everything else that might hinder you from excelling in long distance endurance.  Antioxidants bond to free radicals and whisk them from your body via digestion and other means; they are your body’s ‘Swiffer’  in that regard.  In essence, antioxidants stop us going rusty inside. Quick. Think of the best antioxidants you’ve ever heard of. Red wine? Green tea? Pomegranate? Blueberries? Dark chocolate leaves them all in the veritable dust. The USDA published a chart of antioxidant foods measured in ORACs (Oxygen Radical Absorbance Capacity Units). For every 100 grams, dark chocolate has 13,120  ORACs, and blueberries have only 2,400.

Antioxidant-rich diets have been linked to a lowered risk of heart attacks, stroke, cardiovascular disease, cancer, high blood pressure, cholesterol problems, arthritis, asthma, Alzheimer’s and more, thanks to something known as ‘polyphenols’.  What’s more, the particular polyphenols present in chocolate are of the super-protective variety known as ‘procyanidin flavonoids’.  While some of these flavonoids contain just one unit and are classed as monomers, the most protective are those containing two, three or more units, known as ‘oligomers’.  And, yes, you’ve guessed it, chocolate is especially rich in the larger oligomers that can prevent that harmful LDL-cholesterol from becoming oxidized and taken up into artery walls.

Furthermore, simply put: eating chocolate makes you feel good. It increases brain levels of several chemicals, including mood-altering PEA (‘phenylethylamine’,  related to ‘amphetamine’), which produces a mild, confidence-instilling buzz…or ‘chocolate high’.  Chocolate also contains ‘tryptophan’  (that same stuff that gives you that snuggly, warm, euphoric feeling after your Thanksgiving turkey dinner) – a chemical converted to serotonin in the brain to lift mood and increase feelings of pleasure – and ‘theobromine’,  a stimulant that peps you up. Chocolate is also virtually unique in that it melts in the mouth at body temperature, producing a silky, luscious sensation that adds to its appeal and, according to psychologists, is one of the main reasons why chocolate proves so addictive.  But, seriously, do we really need Google to figure that out?

Additionally, chocolate contains mild doses of caffeine.  The amount of caffeine contained in chocolate is around 10 times less than that in the average serving of tea, cola drinks, and even my normal cup of pre-race ‘poop juice’ (coffee).  In fact, low intakes of caffeine can be beneficial, as they improve fat metabolism, exercise endurance, increase alertness and decrease the perception of effort and fatigue.  Shit, that’s right up my alley!  Hell, maybe had I scarfed down a bunny before my long run this morning I might have even succeeded in establishing a new PB for the half marathon distance.

Now, of course it’s not all a Willy Wonka-esque fantasyland, as chocolate also carries some pretty significant drawbacks.  Besides being extremely calorific, not to mention being high in glucose (sugar) lending itself to producing glucose swings which, as well as encouraging you to eat more, it’s being increasingly linked with the development of obesity and type 2 diabetes.  Fuck.  Then there’s the whole acne and tooth decay thing to boot.  So you’re hardly an easy Snickers bar away from perfect health, a six pack and a winning smile.

But here’s another interesting tidbit.  You know already that lead is bad for you, right? This is why we have such a thing as “unleaded” gasoline, and in general don’t allow lead near anything we’re about to breathe or eat.  So what does this have to do with chocolate you ask?  Well, it just so happens that the shells of cocoa beans, the chief ingredient in chocolate, have an almost supernatural ability to absorb lead from the air. Of course, this is only a big deal if there’s a lot of lead in the air, right?  Sure, which is why it’s unfortunate that Nigeria, where a shitload of our cocoa comes from, still has lead in their gasoline. That’s why a Hershey bar tastes so damn good: The secret ingredient is African exhaust.  It’s true, the average candy bar ranks fourth for highest lead content in a food.  But don’t panic yet; lead occurs naturally in everything, even wholesome vegetables and grains, and while there is no amount of lead that isn’t harmful to the human body, a little bit of the stuff in our bloodstream is more or less unavoidable and probably won’t do anything bad enough that we’ll ever notice.  Fingers crossed.

However, given this weekend for what it is, it stands to reason that if chocolate is so chocked full of antioxidants and polyphenols, while providing us a bit of a boost, it’s actually good for you.  I realize that this might be a bit of a far stretch, but I’m tired and my legs hurt and I’m really craving the sweet stuff so I’m choosing to go with it.  So how do I incorporate chocolate successfully into my diet, even if just for the weekend?

All in all, it seems that, as part of a balanced diet, we might all benefit from eating – minimally – 100g of chocolate per day – but make sure it is dark, not to mention expensive!  Likewise, instead of gorging yourself, try and consume small amounts after a meal while you are already full.  That way, hopefully, you will be less likely to over-indulge in the long run and ultimately only add on all those calories that you burned during your workout earlier in the day.  However, if you really want to stay on the straight-and-true path, I have a solution: try carob chips instead.

Carob chips are made out of carob powder. They are similar in appearance and texture to chocolate chips, although the taste is distinctly different from that of chocolate. Carob is a naturally sweet substance, so there is generally no sugar added to the chips during manufacture, and they also lack the stimulants caffeine and ‘theobromine’  found in chocolate.  Because carob needs less sugar than chocolate to make it sweet, carob chips have long been used as a health-food substitution. Plain carob has about one-third of the calories of chocolate and is low in fat. Furthermore, there is also some evidence that you can use carob to help ease diarrhea.  Typically, I satisfy my periodic chocolate cravings by adding a few carob chips to my fruit salad or yogurt at lunchtime or for dessert.

Today, however, I’m putting my healthy lifestyle on temporary hold and sitting down with a chocolate Easter bunny the size of the Empire State Building, and mowing down on that bad boy like my life depended on it.  And if anyone has a problem with that, they can go suck a chocolate egg for all I care…this triathlete wants his holiday reward.

And another one bites the dust...

Yoga Music Pick #6

Lately, I have been focusing more on my home practice as I’m now a much longer drive to the Yoga by Sarah studio, not to mention that my Ironman training schedule eats up just about every waking hour that I’m not already at my regular ‘9-to-5’ professional job.  While there’s a lot that I miss about my studio practice, there is one thing that I’m not missing so much:  the 2 or 3 musical CD’s they seem to play on repeat.  Hey, I can only listen to so much peaceful solitude music before the over-abundance of rushing water and wave-like noises make me have to break my downward dog  to go piss; at home, I get to listen to whatever I want.

And, lately, that soundtrack of choice has been ‘Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld’  by The Orb.  Released as a double album (I strongly recommend hunting out the UK release), there is lots – 150 minutes actually – of contagious meditative grooves to get all pretzel-like to.  One of the finest ambient trance albums, and affectionately referred to as the best ‘chill out’  album ever made, this LP inspired just about every other future sonic pioneer to come with a laptop and keyboard.

Founded in 1988 by Alex Paterson and KLF member Jimmy Cauty (yes, the ‘The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu’  guy), The Orb began as ambient and dub DJ’s in London and basically provided the blueprint for the electronic music genre of the early-’90s.  Its own early performances were inspired by ambient and electronic artists of the 1970’s and 1980’s, most notably Brian Eno and Kraftwerk.  Similarly, they have culled much of their prominent motifs of outer space, science fiction and mind control from everything including NASA transmissions and Woody Allen movies.  The end result is a lush, trippy, multi-layered sound to get your divine yoga on.

Yoga soundtrack extraordinaire

From “Little Fluffy Clouds”,  the first and shortest song on the album, which you might remember ad nauseum from those annoying 90’s television adverts, to the ending piece d’ resistance, a nineteen-minute monstrosity with the charming title, “A Huge Ever Growing Pulsating Brain That Rules From the Center of the Ultraworld“,  this album just literally drips with the Cool.  And, yes, there is even some rushing water sounds for the typical yoga solitude enthusiast to boot.

Now, doesn’t that just make you want to yoga your ass off and slip right into shavasana  or what?

Around the Bay 2012

• Around the Bay 30k (click to see stats & route)
• Chip Time = 2:34:13 (click to see race stats)
• Category Place = 198/454 (M 35-39)
• Overall Place = 1617/7000
• Overall Place (by gender) = 1243/2967
• Avg. Heart Rate = 160 bpm
• Max. Heart Rate = 168 bpm
• Avg. Pace = 5:06 /km
• Max. Pace = 3:27 /km
• Calories = 2880
• Temp = 14º
• SOTD = ‘The Wicked Messenger (live)’ by Phil & Friends

The good news:  I bettered last years’ time by just less than 5 minutes.  What’s the bad news?  Well, I damn near killed myself doing it.  But that’s just how it goes sometimes in this crazy world of endurance sports I guess.

The day started out early with even less of an idea on how I planned to run today’s event than I did last night.  Kelly and I were up and packed to go by 6:30am,  including my having two changes of possible running attire, a post-race recovery ensemble and even more possible clothes to stretch in later at the gym (we never made it there).  By the time we peeled out of here at 6:45am  I may as well have been Paris Hilton embarking on a month’s road trip to Rio de Janeiro for all the clothes I was carrying.

You could say I was a bit undecided as to what would have been the most appropriate thing to run in today.  The weather called for a late morning high of 14 º with gusts of wind and possible showers.  So warm and breezy with possible chances of wet and crappy.  How does one prepare for that?  In the end, I settled on my running tights, a base layer long sleeve shirt with a light windbreaker…and I damn near ended up dying of heat exhaustion.  But that story to come shortly…

Getting to the event was pretty uneventful thanks to a volunteered free parking pass right across from Copps Coliseum from a friend of mine who works in the immediate area (cheers, Jeremy!).  However, first we were able to quickly meet up with some other colleagues at the Grimsby YMCA to pick up my race kit before stopping off quickly at Tim Horton’s to pick up my pre-race usual of a toasted honey wheat bagel with cream cheese and a small cuppa’ joe which I affectionately refer to as ‘Poop Juice’.  Hey, don’t laugh as that’s exactly what it is.  I don’t want to be carrying any extra weight if necessary during the race so to aid in the process a little (besides giving that little extra perk prior to the race start), a small cup of coffee helps me drop this unnecessary load and get down to my proper ‘race weight’ if you will.  And, since I’ve brought it up, any bathroom will inevitably smell like the 8^th Circle of ‘Dante’s Inferno’  approximately 30 minutes before any event giving credence that I am not the only one who swears by this routine; it’s a raw combination of nerves, adrenaline and a caffeinated shitstorm that becomes the true bouquet of long distance athletics…make no mistake.

With about 20 minutes to go prior to the race, I made my way out with the other 7000  or so participants to the starting point approximately a block away from the actual finish line at the entrance to Copps itself.  Now, I don’t know why I do this but I fall victim to this at nearly every event: I misplace myself towards the back of the field and yesterday was no exception.  No sooner do I join the herd before I realize that I’m also going to have to maneuver myself through this enormous crowd of people for the first 7-8k  or so.  F-r-u-s-t-r-a-t-i-n-g!

And so it began, with me dodging, darting, veering and steering my way through the dense pack of runners looking for the 2:30:00  pace bunny I was hoping to find.  No luck though.  I did navigate around (or in some cases, through) runners in some pretty remarkable get-ups though, including girls bright neon booty shorts (okay, I ran behind them just for a little bit first), Elvis, and a guy wearing a helicopter costume.  Over all, it was like being beamed directly into a forward-only game of ‘Frogger’.

In case you’re wondering what the start of an event 7000 strong looks like, here’s an idea:

It also became clear to me after the first 5-6k  that I was completely over-dressed and I began to expunge gallons and gallons of sweat.  My base layer absorbed moisture like a sponge and my jacket had saturated itself straight through, and I became aware of a serious stink emanating from body.  Oh well, it couldn’t be helped now so I made a conscious effort to stop at aid stations for water where I typically wouldn’t bother.  I knew though that without that sweet, sweet, precious liquid the chances of my dehydrating by the 20k  mark and turning into a quivering pile of protoplasm by the roadside were quite inevitable.  So stop and drink I did.

The "Reward"

Over all, the first 10k  went pretty well, resulting in a 2 minute improvement over last year, not to mention a new personal best for the 10k distance with 49:33.  In fact, all my splits this year were faster; 1:14:39 vs 1:18:00,  and 1:40:45 vs 1:44:28 .  However, the real difference was that I was feeling a bit stronger heading into the hills this year and I was able to reign in nearly seven minutes in total through the difficult hills in the last 10k.  Of course, it might not exactly have seemed that way at the time as my legs felt like cracking lead.  I didn’t high-five the karaoke midget, I didn’t bother with the numb nuts coaching people up the hill at 26k, I didn’t take in the motivational slogans on each kilometer marker, nor did I notice many spectator signs this time (although the guy trying in vain to coax runners in his ‘Quitter’s Throne’  at the 21k  mark seemed pretty enticing).  Instead, I hammered on even though I felt rough.  In fact, I was even beating myself up at the time for not feeling stronger, being able to go faster, what have you, but the data suggests something else quite different and you can’t fuck with the numbers.

Maybe this improvement in the last portions of the race was better conditioning on my part this year to deal with hills, my emphasis on speed work this year, or perhaps just the benefit of another years’ worth of racing experience under my belt paying off – I’m not entirely sure.  But I am happy with that end result.

So where do I go from here?  Well, it’s onward and upward in my training for Ironman Wales, where the run course is also known for being hilly and challenging.  So I predict many more hard, hilly and painful runs in my near future such as this one.  At least I know they’re in my ability to do, I just have to focus on getting stronger, work on my pain threshold a bit and get comfortable in coping with that, as well as developing my overall confidence level a bit.

Where the ‘Around the Bay’  last year, represented a break from the real  long distances, this year it marks only the beginning; and what an eye-opener it was.  God help me.