IronMan to Beat Cancer

2011-12-07T18:42:00.001-08:00

Normally I shy away from ‘inaugural’ events of any kind. The last one I did was poorly organized and not a fun experience, sorry Atlanta. This time, I wasn’t quite so fearful of another total disaster of an event, because Dave Scott was one of the organizers. For you none Tri-geeks, Dave Scott is a 6 Time World Iron Man Champion and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training National triathlon coach. I figured ‘how could this be bad’…and I was right. It was a great event.

However, despite Dave’s monogram on the event, that wasn’t why I was there. I wanted to do another 70.3 event to gage myself for the upcoming training to do the Arizona IronMan event in 2012. I picked Palm Springs because of the timing and its proximity to Kris. I wanted her there to experience the whole Triathlon thing. At some point along the way this turned into something much more than an event for me; it became a run for some one’s life. To reprise:

Kris’s good friend has a brother. He is dying of Leukemia. The doctors have set out a treatment schedule for him to follow, but when all is said and done they can’t save him. He has already been told this. I know Kris’s friend and one day we are talking about her brother. I mentioned I’d like to run in Mike’s Honor.

She is excited and touched by the gesture. She tells Mike and like most folks who stumble upon the Team, he was taken aback and wondered why, why would someone he doesn't know do this and presumes I'm doing it generically and not specifically for him. Then he finds out I'm doing it specifically for him and his name will be on the back of my Tri-Jersey.

The event day is a scheduled chemo day. Mike calls up the doctor and tells him the chemo has to be rescheduled. The Doctor starts to express his concern about changing the schedule and how he thinks it would not be wise. Mike says “I don’t care; I won’t be there that day so you can either reschedule or just skip it.” What’s the worst that can happen, I’m dying anyway. Mike is going to drive 4 hours and be at the starting line by 7am Sunday morning

OK, so here I am. I haven’t even registered for the event yet, and I find out Mike rescheduled everything and will be there. All of a sudden this is no ordinary event. Kris is making a special honoree banner for the back of your jersey. I now feel the need to bust a gut and work harder because I am no longer doing any part of the event for myself, but only for Mike and I am going to let Mike know there are people out there fighting for him and that we won’t quit.

Now, fast forward to the event weekend. The Thanksgiving holiday wasn’t kind to me and my training, but I felt pretty good about things. The water temp and the potential for high winds were a bit worrisome, but no never mind, I am there and will complete the event.

Gear is dropped off the night before. It’s cold, it’s windy. Talking with Kris, I hear Mike will be there in the morning for the start. We head back to the hotel and I try to relax and eat a bit. I always get keyed up for events, but this time I was especially keyed up. Sleep was hit or miss at best, but come 4:30am, I’m up and ready to go. Arriving at the starting area I finish prepping my gear. Well, at least the water bottles didn’t freeze, nor did my tires burst overnight. It’s a good sign.

About 10 minutes before we line up for a beach start, Mike, Janet (his sister) and her husband John show up. I meet him, shake his hand and he thanks me at least 4 times. You can see the chemo has taken a toll, but he is grinning from ear to ear. I’m getting motivated and I’m ready to go.

That feeling quickly left my body as I hit the water, so did all the air in my lungs and my body is screaming “WTF!!!” 57 degree water temperature was not a pleasant thing. I had brought my sleeveless wetsuit that day (insert ‘dumb-ass’ here). I don’t like the sleeved one; it seems to restrict my stroke, so thought the sleeveless would be good enough. It was not. Should have been wearing a parka.

By the first buoy, my arms were frozen, my feet had lost feeling, my hands too are numb, and I couldn’t turn my head into the water for a proper swim stroke. 15 minutes into the 1.2 mile swim I was thinking I couldn’t do this; it was too cold, too hard. Then I thought about Mike smiling on the beach as I took off. What the hell do I know about ‘hard’? Quit whining you wienie and swim. So it’s cold, big deal; are you dying? No, so shut and stroke harder…my stroke got stronger and I relaxed a bit. At least until I got out of the water.

It was then I realized I couldn’t make my feet work. I had trouble walking up the sand to the bike transition. The feet were screaming and stung with every foot step. My hands were numb and non-responsive. Hitting the transition area, I first dried off the feet and put on socks and shoes. Next were gloves. Uncontrollable shivers began, I had trouble changing shirts. I needed to put on the one with Mike’s name on it. On the bike and off I go. Thank goodness I had remembered to put the bike in a low gear.

The sun is higher now and I can feel it warming up, though it took the better part of the 56 miles before the feeling came back into my legs and feet. I have some chronic abductor problems and it did not like the cold water so acted up throughout the entire bike ride. It should have been a quick cruise and I should have been able to hold 20mph average and be in sometime around 2 hours 45 minutes. Instead, 3 hours 15 minutes later I cruise on in. My abductor did not like being in the aero position, so I spent most of the return bike route in the upright position.

Out for the run, good transition, and feeling my extremities again. The run route is flat and fast, but I didn’t keep myself hydrated on the bike, so not up to par. Still running well though and finish off with a 2:17 half marathon. Kris, with a smile, is at the finish line to meet and greet me.

So, I finished. A little ragged around the edges, but was no worse for the wear. Of the roughly 160 people who started, only 116 finished. I hear tell the EMTs pulled several out of the water because they had been in there too long and were turning blue.

We hang out for a while because we saw this 17 year old tackle the event on a BMX bike and really wanted to see him finish. He worked over the summer to save for the $285 entrance fee and we were hoping he’d finish it off. We had been talking to his mom and she said he had stopped at mile 40 of the bike ride, but then after a short break decided to finish. He did: in 9 hours.

While waiting for the BMX, preliminary results were released and it looked like I might win something in my age group. I figured the usual 5 year grouping and it looked like I might have been 2^nd out of 6 or 7 in the 55-59 group. Instead, I was first – (insert asterisk) – they decided to give awards for every year, thus I won my 57 year old age group, by default…I was the only 57 year old there. Hey, a win is a win, and quite frankly, I couldn’t lose this day. I had worked in Honor of Mike and let him know we, the Team, were there to help if we could. There was no loosing that day for me.

If you would like to help find a cure for cancer and save people like Mike, go here and make a tax deductible donation: http://pages.teamintraining.org/dm/vancouvr12/rkarlt

A Mile of Quarters to Beat Cancer

2011-08-18T18:33:00.000-07:00

A Mile of Quarters to Beat Cancer!!!!

http://imagainstcancer.blogspot.com/

Lets get more quarters than Phoenix/Tempe.....Doante a Foot of Quarters ($3) or more and get your name in a raffle to win:
$50 gift certificate from Hifalutin
$50 gift card from REI
$25 gift card from Hard Rock Cafe

How Do I Get Involved? - You Ask.

Step One- Click on the link belowhttp://pages.teamintraining.org/vtnt/nattri11/rkarlt
Step Two- Make a donation in any amount starting at a quarter
Step Three- For any amount larger than 3 dollars leave a comment and let us know who you are honoring
Step Four- You will recieve an email with your prize drawing ticket numbers
Step Five- Check back often, we will be updating our mile progress and announcing the winners

Just the Facts...

This year 140,000 men, women, and children will be diagnosed with a blood cancer. 60,000 will die by the time the ball drops in Times Square. Every 10 minutes we lose brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends. Young. Old. People we love. In the time it takes you to read this someone will be diagnosed with a blood related cancer including leukemia, the most common childhood cancer. The patient's road to recovery is often catergorized as a marathon rather than a sprint. The marathon. The oldest test of physical and mental toughness known to man. 26.2 miles. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (LLS) partners with blood cancer patients on this journey. The mission? To cure leukemia, lymphoma,Hodgkin's disease,adn myeloma and improve the quality of life for patients and their families. Simply-to save lives. Each year 35,000 brave individuals help LLS raiase vital funds to make this mission possible by running a marathon of their very own. Many have never done anything like this before. Most have their own challenges to overcome. But everyone wants to live in a world without cancer. You can join the race. Make a difference. Save a life. Donate one quarter. One inch in the mile long battle against cancer. Together we will make cures happen, we will save lives.

Arizona Archaeologists Fighting Cancer

2011-08-04T11:52:00.000-07:00

Its lunch time….I have been moved by a couple of our colleagues to send this out.

Recently three people in the archaeology community we deal with notified me that their husbands were diagnosed with a cancer; or fighting it to the end.
In one case the person was diagnosed with Mantle Cell Lymphoma, a rare form of Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. At the present, Ken is in a ‘watch and wait’ status. This is particularly hard because there is nothing you can do but wait for the lymphoma to get worse so they can decide what to treat it with. The first suggestions for treatment, since this a rare form, is a drug in clinical trial.

To get to this point a drug has undergone years, sometimes a decade of research and testing. This after its development. To get the drug to clinical trial stage, Leukemia and Lymphoma dollars are needed, lots of them. Over the years the Team in Training, that I run for, has invested over $670 million toward the development and approval of cancer drugs. However, the Clinical Trial drug means there is not even the inference that it will work. It means it looked promising in the lab and we hope it will work well for you.

Right now, he is holding his own and the family is there to support – Connie is re-writing the lyrics to ‘Bad Company’ to ‘Bad DNA’ in support of Ken.

The second, also with a lymphoma, was in a more advanced state. Glennda is an ACS archie. Richard’s Treatment started almost immediately: chemo with Rituxan, Treanda/bendamustine, and Neulasta. Rituxan was developed with TNT dollars.

However, this regime of treatment costs money, and a lot of it. Each Treatment this person goes through costs the family $60k. He needs 6 treatments, that is $360k just this year; and this does not include all the ‘incidentals’ such as MRIs, PET scans, doctor visits, blood tests, gas money to get there, food to eat while you are there. To quote the wife: ‘fighting for your life is NOT cheap’. Sometimes insurances pick up part of the tab, sometimes they don’t… in this case they are not. Glennda and Richard have received some financial aid from the local hospital…dollars that come from people like you and the LLS and other Cancer organizations.

So far he is doing well and also holding his own. Side effects right now are only that he has lost a great deal of weight and has no energy. The quality of life is not what it used to be.

His family, too, is there to support and is proud of the way he is holding it together and how strong he has become.
The third, is a form of kidney cancer, RCC – Renal Cell Carcinoma. Connie works at Westland, her husband, Ben, was diagnosed a short while back. The treatments worked at the start, but have since failed them. The cancer is back with a vengeance. The new chemo treatment was started in 2009 and it has given them more time together. Ben is in a Hospice right now. Connie works as much as she can to keep the insurance coming. The remainder of her time is spent with Ben – lunch, naps, just being together till it’s over.

The dollars you have donated to my quest thus far have helped tremendously, but we still don’t have cures and our treatments are far from perfected. We can improve the quality of life and eventually save those lives with your help. The dollars we raise go to patient support to help cover some of the incidental costs I mentioned above. But as you can imagine there is never enough to go around.
My signature line has changed a bit….the note that “cures for cancer will come, I promise”. A promise I will run to keep, a promise by me to keep pestering anyone I can for a donation to support research and patient care, a promise that we will find a cure.
Any and all donation amounts 100% appreciated from the bottom of my heart and those of the people we save and help. I pay the bulk of my own fees to do these fundraising events, so your money does not support my running habit. It supports people like our colleagues’ husbands and people we don’t even know yet.

Use the PayPal link in the upper right hand corner...OR

Make a donation through this website: http://pages.teamintraining.org/vtnt/nattri11/rkarlt ...OR
send a check: made out to “LLS” sent to 2740 N Pacific Dr, Tucson, AZ 85705

Cures for Cancer are Coming...I Promise

A Remotivation of the Adrenal Glands

2011-05-06T19:08:00.000-07:00

Its a short Blog tonight, its Friday, again. Its the night I get my gear ready for the Team tomorrow morning. I'm still coaching folks, about 24 of them to be exact, and we are starting at 6am tomorrow; officially. Several of the Team wanted to start earlier, so I'll be there by 5:20am, this after I've set up the water station, so I'm out of the house by 4:45.
Tomorrow is the Team training. I and other coaches Brian and Sarah (with ghost coaches Teresa and Sean) will run back and forth with the Team and make sure they are OK. They are out for 15 tomorrow. The route I ran last Sunday, just to make sure it was good. Coaches go about a third more than the participants, so I'm looking at about 20 tomorrow.....OK, so like that wasn't the point of this blog tonight.

We had our first information/recruitment meeting for the hew Team last night. Our first meeting is usually low attendance and in fact we only had one person show up. Our presentation was given, and near the end we kind of asked if she had any questions. She very firmly said 'no, I'm here sign up'. No hessitation, just bang, she came there to sign up and raise over $3k to fight cancers.

Again, not really the point of this blog tonight.

My point here tonight: At these info meetings we play a short 10-15 minute video that gives a good overview of what the Team in Training is about. We have had the same video for a long time and it was getting dry. Last night we had a new one; first time viewing for me. It was motivational to say the least. I was getting goosebumps and becoming increasingly fired up to do more. It kept talking about what the Team was all about, finding cures AND keeping people alive. It had several survivors in it proclaiming that the only reason they were alive is because of Team in Training fundraising.

I was ready to sign up last night; even though I am already signed up for the Anchorage Marathon and thanks to all you great people have surpassed my initial goal. But I need to do more...I didn't quite no how right at the moment the video ended. I currently coach the marathoners, I'll be coaching the virtual Team of marathoners, and will begin coaching our IronTeam (people training for the IronMan Triathlon) AND I fundraise, paying a good portion of my own way to each event. But I felt I needed another something to do.

Then I read the new pamphlets and saw that the Nations' Triathlon, held in DC, was on September 11 this year; the 10 anniversary of 911....that was it; I need to do this. The 911 celebration is going to be a celebration of survival of determination of not letting anything stop us from living...its basically what a cancer victim faces each day...survival, determination, living. No, nothing like what happened on 911, but I can see a correlation.

So, I think, I might, maybe be signing up for Nation's Tri...and running it the name of some awesome people I know...Steve, Steven, Ken, Uncle Garry, Aunt Pat, Alex, Marissa, Louanne, Shannon...some in honor of, and some in memory of.
Donate if you can....use the PayPal link on this page, or go to this website:
http://pages.teamintraining.org/vtnt/nattri11/rkarlt

Oh, Ya, I will be doing another IronMan Triathlon in 2012....so stay tuned.
Thanks to you all

Paint Me Purple and Green

2011-04-29T07:12:00.000-07:00

Seems beating cancer is a good thing, but people like to, I don't know....hate to use the phrase "have fun doing it', but that is sort of what it is. Its not that people don't think finding cures for cancers is a worthy cause or that financially help those afflicted with this bastardous disease is worth caring about; because people do care immensely.

However, there is something more socially glueing when somebody offers to do something out of the ordinary for their donation. Its like they get to help out, find that warm fuzzy feeling, AND laugh at the same time. Its the 'laugh' part that gets them. Everyone knows cancer sucks and we need to find out what is causing our cells to mutate in such a way as to morph into the cancerous cells, but we need to bring ourselves out of the depressed mode thinking of cancer and all those people suffering and all those people dying has put us in. We, as a society, care very much about saving our fell man, why else have we worked so hard a curing diseases.

So, to help you get that laugh... I will paint myself Purple and Green for your donations. The more I collect, the more things I paint and the more events I participate in with this painting. We have made the first goal - at the San Diego Rock'n Roll event, I will coach wearing a purple and green tutu. At the Anchoarage Marathon that I'm running, I will have some purple and green nail polish, lip gloss, eye liner and other assorted things. The next big push is to tint my hair purple and green. Possibly body paint the face, though I'm not sure the problems this could cause while running. We shall see about the face paint.

So, click that PayPal link on the upper righthand corner and give what you can, want, need to. Its all good and it all goes to find cures, research better treatments, financially help victims....it goes to save lives.

I'm Asking for a Small Donation to Fight Cancer

2011-03-27T19:46:00.000-07:00

Why do I run marathons, coach 100 others a year to do the same, push myself through IronMan Triathlon Training and events. Why do I constantly remind you that I am doing this. Its because people need our help Reasons to help? You likely have many, but read these to get your started. They help tell you why I am here.
Donate if you can....all it takes if $5 from everyone of my FaceBook friends to make a huge difference in somebody's life. Thanks for taking the time.

I started because of my friend Steve; he was diagnosed with CLL 6 years ago. Since then there have been many reasons I stay. A couple-three years ago I remember sitting in the hotel lobby in Phoenix, I think. We had just checked in and I was waiting for all the Team to get there and checked into their rooms. While I was sitting there, a gentleman came up and introduced himself as Berry. He said he was part of the Desert Mountains States Chapter (that's us) and part of our Team. He was from Kingman, trained on his own and was suppose to hook up with us for the weekend. Usually the Chapter coordinators are good about letting us know somebody is joining our group, but this one they slipped up on, so I didn't know he was joining us else I would have included him in our emails and such. But, no problem, I welcomed him and we chatted a bit. He never let on why he was there. Near the finish line around mile 24, I was running back to look for Team members to run in, that's what coaches do, and I found Berry. He had a grin from ear to ear and doing quite well. He had a jump rope around his neck. I asked why and what he was planning on doing. He answered it was for his daughter. She had died a very short time before. He said she loved to jump rope and that when he finished his events, he always looked to sky, smiled and said 'this is for you', and then would skip rope across the finish line. As we got close to the finish line, I backed off and let him have his moment with his daughter.

Steven was 17 when they told him he had Leukemia. His parents were devastated; beside themselves. Steven, seemed to take it a bit in stride though. His attitude was that it was what it was and he would fight it as best he could. When I first met him it was in a coffee shop here in Tucson. He was here for a 3rd opinion on what treatment was the best course. Unfortunately, all three opinions agreed that a bone marrow transplant was it. Not just 'an' option, but 'the' option. He had no choice if he planned on see is 18th birthday.

Bone marrow transplants are tricky and iffy at best. The odds of success is very low and its definitely not a first choice of treatment. Steven had his transplant. Things went as well as could be expected. He got a little better and attended college back in Ohio.
But just as family was thinking the worst was over, it got worse. Complication after complication arose. Steven was in and out of the hospital for various infections and problems. All were related to the transplant.
Currently, he is out of the hospital and living back at home. He lost 50 pounds (which he didn't really have to loose), and is fighting to live every day.

Emily and her mom were peacefully playing a game of 'I Spy' while awaiting the results of what was believed by Mom as a urinary track infection. Emily was 9. The Doctor came by, called out Mom and explained Emily had a large mass in her abdomen and need surgery, now! Quickly a mass was removed as well as a kidney. Emily did well and started through her recovery which included intense rounds of Chemo and an assortment of drugs and needles.
Things went well for about 7 months, then masses started showing up around her lungs. Experimental and aggressive treatment seemed to be working. About year after diagnosis, the family seemed to be doing well and enjoying life.
Part II, about 2 years later - 'routine' scans, Doctor calling out Mom: "Emily has Cancer, and its bad". Emily's parents were being asked how much they were will to have done to Emily to keep her alive. Emily is all of 12 now.
On June 14, Emily's parents were told the cancer was out of control, nothing could be done anymore; she is not going to make it.
On June 15, Deb and John and Emily's little brother Andrew went into Emily's room. ..."It may surprise you to know the worst day of my life was not the day Emily died. That day was a blessing; she finally was at peace and not in any pain. The worst day came on June 15th. That’s the day John and I had to tell Emily her cancer was no longer curable. She then looked me in the eye and asked if she was going to die, and I had to say yes."
No parent should ever have to tell their 12 year old she is going to die.

Alex would have been 18 this coming June. Unfortunately, she past from our lives at just age 13, shortly after having her chocolate on chocolate cake for her 13th birthday in the hospital where she had spent the better part of her life. As we train, some of us are heading to the Anchorage marathon on June 18, where Alex's mom Betsy will participate. Her goal is to raise $18,000 by event day of June 18 to celebrate Alex's 18th birthday. Betsy will no doubt make this goal. She has been a motivation to many of us, as has Alex. I wear a yellow smiley face in memory of Alex on my jersey for every event I do and on most Saturday training days you will see one pinned to my jersey. The small purple pony on top of the water cooler is from and for Alex.

Notice to the Upper Right of this Blog, there is a convient PayPal link if you want to make a donation, or go to this other website: http://pages.teamintraining.org/dm/anchor11/rkarl
It doesn't have to be a lot....loose change in a mayo jar in the cupboard. The change in the ashtray of your car. That $5 you were saving for the Latte tomorrow. Whatever you got, we will take it and put it to good use.
Thank You.

Dying Everything Purple and Green

2011-03-11T09:17:00.000-08:00

Its been a while since my last post, it was just after the last IronMan.
I haven't fallen off the face of the earth yet AND more importantly, I am still running and riding....swimming sucks, so I haven't been doing much of that lately. Soon, I shall hit the pool again and start preparing for my next IronMan to Beat Cancers; November of 2012 in Phoenix.

Until then however, I am still fundraising to beat cancers. Why you ask, ok, maybe you didn't, but I thought you needed to know anyway: Because in the short time it took you to read to this point, a person died of a cancer and 5 more were diagnosed. Before you finish this blog, 1 person will have died of a blood related cancers - Leukemia or Lymphoma or Myloma - and another 5-6 were diagnosed with a blood cancer.

So, I'm still running. I get more motivated to continue the longer I continue. A recent motivation, one I remembered from a past event. The guys name is Barry. He is from Kingman, AZ. He was part of our PFChang's team year and a half ago. I met him in the hotel lobby the weekend of the event. He walked up and introduced himself to me as part of our Team. I was a bit puzzled as I had never met him and the Chapter people are usually pretty good about telling me when we have a Team member from another city, but they missed this one. No never mind....I said Hi, had him sit down with us and on we went for the weekend.
The weekend progressed, and I heard from Barry a couple times that he was fine and would see me at the event. As events go, it was typical for PFChangs... good weather, good fans, good music, good excitement. Coaches, as I am, are tasked with running along specific areas and then find their way to the finish line and run the course backwards looking for Team members in purple event shirts and running/walking them into the finish line. I had been running back and forth and as the event was winding into the 7 hour mark I was running back looking for our Team members; found Barry around mile 23. He was walking and running a bit, no worse for the wear and had a big smile on his face. I came up along side of him and started chatting about how he was feeling and continued in with him toward the finish line. At some point I noticed the jump rope around his neck and asked about it. He explained he would use it at the finish line, it was for his daughter. I asked if she would be there to cross the finish line with him. He answered 'oh, yes, she is always there with me'.
So, how cool I thought. He brings a jump rope for his daughter to use when he finishes. We ran a little and I asked how old she was. He said she should would have been 10. I paused...'would have been?'... He continued, she died of leukemia a couple years ago. I was a bit saddened, and he could tell. He smiled and said the jump rope is for her. I've done a couple of TNT events and at the finish line of each I jump rope for her because she loved to do that.
We talked a bit more, and when I got him to within a 100 yards or so of the finish line, I backed off and said 'good job, now finish strong'. He replied he always did for his daughter. He continued in and I watched. A few steps from me he stopped, looked up the sky and said...'this is for you'. He then took the rope from around his neck, and started to jump rope through the finish line.
I was more than touched and choked up and even though I had already done better than 30 miles that day I found renewed energy to continue and ran with head high back out to find another Team member.
I've kept in touch with Barry since then and will see him again at San Diego this June 5.

Because of Barry and others like him, I continue to run and ask for your donations to fight cancers. Everyone has a story; I seem to get a new one to wrenches at my heart each time I do an event. I'll be at San Diego on June 5, then Anchorage on June 18 running a marathon for your dollars to beat cancer to the gutter.

You can help with a donation to this website: http://pages.teamintraining.org/dm/anchor11/rkarl
,,,or you can send a check, made out "Leukemia and Lymphoma Society" to 2740 N Pacific Drive, Tucson, AZ 85705
Any and Every dollar amount helps. Just for some incentive, as if the above might not have been enough:

So, people want me to color or paint something for their donations. Some have suggested purple and green nail polish, others want sparkly purple lipstick, some want eye-liner (one eye green, the other purple), face paint, dyed hair. so, here is the deal. I've set Dollar Values to each of these. When I meet that Dollar Value, I'll do that dying or painting for the event in anchorage

Purple and Green fingernails - $7,000 (only another $160 to get to this one)
Purple sparkly lipstick - $8,000
Purple Eye liner - $9,000
One Eye Purple and one eye Green - $10,000
All of the above plus purple and green hair - $12,000 - my dollar goal for this event.

Yes, there will be photos for verification purposes.
Now, get those $$$s a'coming. the purple and green fingernails are almost here, only another $160 for that.

I thank you all for your continued support and hope that before I pass from this earth to the next life I see a cure coming to help the people I have met and will meet in the future.

IronMan Arizona: Lessons Learned that Won't Be Followed

2010-11-23T17:45:00.001-08:00

The Arizona IronMan Triathlon is over. I can tell because my body aches, I can’t walk, going downstairs is a new adventure in pain, there are blisters on my toes and I’m going to loose two toenails.

By the numbers: the event is a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride followed by a 26.2 mile run, yes in a single day. The winners are done in about 8 ½ hours. Some of us enjoy this so much we prolong the finish to as much as 17 hours. The event coordinators shut things down after mid-night….even if you are going to ‘let it all hang out’. Yours truly, came in at 14 hours, 1 minute and 9 seconds; a personal best by nearly an hour.

There are 2 conclusions that could be drawn from this year’s event, plus multiple ‘lessons learned’ which I shall get to later, but first the possible conclusions.

First, “I’m getting too old for this shit”. This conclusion has some very good statistical and physical support. The event had 2500 participants registered, not counting pros. Of that 2500, nearly 10% didn’t even bother to show up. Of those who started, 6.5% did not finish for assorted reasons, mostly from not making cut-off times.
Now, and here is the stats us children of the 60s may be interested in, of the 2281 people who started, only about 425 were over the age of 50, with only 84 in the 55-59 age group. Statistically speaking, most people in the late 50s don’t do these things.
The physical support comes from the statement above…”my body aches…pain….blisters…toenails…yada yada…” . The 56 year old bodies don’t like doing these things and they let you know it.
However, I have rejected this conclusion, because, well, because we can do anything we set out mind to, as verified by the same statistics above… 425 over 50 years just proved we can do this. So, we can and we will continue to do what may very well be perceived by society as foolish things that we ‘are too old for’.

Conclusion two I believe is a much better one. It is based simply on my goal and the actual outcome and concludes that had I trained harder, I could have done better. No messy statistics or socially imposed limits on abilities based on an age. I can do better if I train better. 41 people in my age group did better than me, so I can do better….next time I will….and yes, there will be a next time – Texas 2012 is the likely candidate.

On to the event recap…there I was…..

Rather than regale a long boring mile by mile (140.6 of them) summary of what happened, I offer this quick summary – I arrived early, it was cold, I swam, it was cold, I changed to bike, it was cold, I biked, it was windy and rained, I changed to run, it was cold, I ran, it was dark and rained, I finished, I was tired, it was awesome – I shall pick some points I remember from each of the main aspects of a triathlon: Pre-Event, the Swim, Transition to Bike, the Bike, Transition to Run, the Run, the Finish.

The ‘Pre-Event’ is long and sometimes a bit boring. Technically you could include all the training here, but I’ve already bored you on facebook many times with tidbits on my training. So, let’s start at 4:45am the morning of the event. I’m sitting in my VW listening to ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on the satellite radio. I arrived early to get a good parking space near the finish line; about 100 meters away. Logic and past experience tells me I’m not going to want to walk anywhere once I’m done. Even with good friend Sarah there to keep me upright, my navigational skills are going to be somewhat diminished.

Of the 2+ hours till the event starting cannon, what I remember is the camaraderie of the participants. All smiling and talking to each other about what’s going to happen and how much fun we shall have. Secondly, just walking around and looking at all the gear, was fun. Not just the high end, very expensive bikes to die for, but minor gear and what people carry on this bike ride. I saw one bike with no less than 16 gel packets scotched taped to the top of his bike. Another with bits of power bar just stuck to the handle bars. One particularly puzzling one had 4 peanut and jelly sandwiches. I could tell that’s what they were because the PBJ was oozing out the edges of the bread and on to the zip lock it was stuffed in. The sandwiches were neatly folded and then stuffed into his bottle cages and held in with rubber bands.
How interesting I thought, this guy, or gal (though for some reason this logic feels more manly as it makes little or no since and guys are better at doing things that make no sense then gals), felt PBJs were more important than water. Later in the ride I saw two of these sandwiches laying on the BeeLine Road. Perhaps he thought better and switched to water at this point.
Lesson Learned that won’t be followed: you don’t need much water for a 112 mile bike ride. PBJs will do until mile 63 or so, then its time to dump the sandwich and find some H2O.

The swim was intense, chilling, scary at times, and relaxing. It is intense and scary because nearly 2500 people are treading water in a confined area for 20 minutes and then they all start to swim at once. I once again decided I needed to be up close to the front to get out fast and avoid the slower swimmers. I however am one of those slower swimmers, and I got mauled at the start. I was being swum over, around and under. I had way too many people that I didn’t know that well, getting very intimate with their hands…it didn’t matter; just swim you fool. Do not stop else the guy in back of you is coming over the top… just swim you fool.
Sighting where I was going was much easier this time since I had prescription swim goggles. I could actually see the buoys I was aiming for. No sun glare because of the cloud cover and impending storm. I arrive at the finish and get hoisted out – 1:24:50, nearly the same as last time. That’s OK, the water was choppy and I was happy with the time. Strippers (folks who help take off the wetsuits) at the ready and I flash back trying to remember if I really did put on the tri-shorts – a fear of mine: forgetting shorts and having my junk hanging out, grounds for disqualification. I was good though; shorts were on and stayed there.
Lesson Learned that won’t be followed: Don’t start at the front dummy, you don’t swim that well.
A better lesson learned would be to train more so I swim better.

Along the bike ride I had an epiphany: I hate riding into the wind. I would rather do the entire 112 miles up and down Mt Lemmon than spend three-quarters of it riding against 20mph sustained head or crosswinds. I suck on hills, but I’m suckier on windy rides. Prior to the event, it was thought by all that our return trips on the out and back route would be down hill and we could gain some speed and time. Oh contraire my cycling fools. During the return trips into the wind, I was pedaling my little (ok, not so little) butt off and only holding 18mph. If I stopped pedaling, I stopped moving as the headwind would put a halt to any forward movement. Lest we not forget the cloud opening while I was in the port-o-potty. Sounded like somebody throwing gravel on its roof. I stepped out into a downpour. …and another thing, the dust storm that put all of us to a halt was not appreciated one little bit.
Lessons Learned that won’t be followed: Only do events where they can guarantee there won’t be a headwind, or your money back…ya, that ain’t going to happen
A better lesson learned would be to train more so the wind didn’t bother me

The bike to run transition was a trip. Everyone who came in sat down and mumbled something like….’holy shit’, followed by a quick observation that it was windy. We, at least the group who finished around me, were totally whipped when we got off that bike. My own observation skills were starting to go away. I dumped out my transition bag, quickly looking for my running shoes, panicked when I couldn’t find them…they were right there, but for some reason I only saw one of them and it didn’t register as a shoe.
I pulled off the cycling socks to put on fresh ones to run, then pulled on the shoes (note I didn’t say I put the fresh socks on yet). I put on my hat, changed into my honoree running shirt (a shirt with 24 names I was running in honor or memory of) and stood up ready to go. Except, that in my haste I forgot to put on socks and my compression sleeves.
Lesson Learned that won’t be followed: Slow down in the transition tent. You just spent 1 hour and 24 minutes swimming, and then 6 hours 44 minutes on the bike. Trying to shave 1 minute off a transition time isn’t going to get you to the podium.
A better lesson would be, say it with me….train more...so as to not be so toasted and not having to worry about hurrying in that transition zone.

Ah, the run; my strong suit. Off I go through the gauntlet of cheering fans, all of course cheering for only me… My feet hurt a little from the bike ride, but I can run this time, not like last IM when I could barely walk. I run with head up and smiling; cheers all around as though I just saved the little baby from the speeding train (we can talk about my mental problems later).
When doing long distance runs, especially when preceded by a long distance swim and bike ride, it’s good to have a distraction to start. I started out of the shoot with this cute blond, about 5 tall with white compression sleeves over what appeared to be very nice legs. I smiled more. She had a nice stride and moved a little faster than I. As the 26.2 miles progressed, I passed her several times. Not that she was running slower, but she stopped to talk with friends along the way. I was doing some speed walking and as she would catch me she would make a comment about how fast I could walk. Well, we went back and forth throughout the marathon chatting a little until at about mile 25. She comes up from behind, pokes me in the shoulder and says ‘tag, you’re it’. Meaning it was now my turn to catch her. I of course didn’t, but the pleasant, interim bonding over 26 miles was nice. No name, no sense of where she is from, don’t care. It was just nice to have the smile come up from behind every so often and boost me. There were many people cheering me on and thanking me for the work with LLS. It is amazing how many people at so many different athletic events recognize what the Team in Training does.
My stride on the run was a bit clunky. I owe this to trashing the legs trying to keep a good bike ride. So the power walking was necessary, but I think only partly and the rest was in my mind, because once I get the body moving in a run motion, it went well. I needed to stride out more and stop that stupid short stepping I do sometimes.
Well, the run ended with a sprint to the finish over the last mile or so. I saw sub-14 in my mind and thought I could do it. As I passed by some old guy, known as ‘Ironmike’, I apologized…a major foopah to pass somebody 50 feet from the finish line unless you are trying to win. I wasn’t going to win, so needed to apologize as I went by. He smiled and nodded.
Lesson Learned that won’t be followed: always get the girl’s name and phone number and sprint earlier so as not to need the apology to that70 year old guy you beat by 8 seconds.
A more likely lesson to follow is: don’t listen to your mind or body. Just do it for Rudy sake. (Bill Cosby fans will understand this). You have the physical capacity to go farther and faster than you mind or body is telling you can, and you know it, especially if you have 24 ribbons with names hanging off your back, and 13 of them have already died of cancer. You can do it.

The finish line was awesome. I don’t remember my name being called, again – I didn’t remember it the first time either. I remember running through a 6 foot wide area with hundreds of screaming fans cheering me on. I was pushing it and I looked good, I know I did. Across the line and the volunteer paramedic puts his arm around me, congratulates me and asks if I’m OK. A space blanket is around shoulders, a medal around the neck, a finishers cap on my head, a finishers shirt in my hand, and, yes you guessed it, a song in my heart: ‘ina gadda da vida baby….” Don’t ask why, I don’t know. That’s just what I was singing when they took my finishers picture.
OK, I’m done, Sarah is there to steady me and I smell pizza and French fries. I meander through the food tent and out to share with Sarah. Crap, Sam’s Club Cola…gag…but the pizza and fries were good.
Lesson Learned that will not be followed: Always bring your own cola to the finish line.
A more likely lesson learned is that I did good. I felt pretty alright when I finished. Ya, I was tired, but not totally out of it like the 26 people that needed wheelchairs before me – no I’m not kidding. And I’m pretty sure I was better off than the guy who crashed on the bike, broke his collar bone, but still finished the run with his arm taped to his chest.

There you have it. I finished, I was smiling and I am happy with the results. I raised about $550 in the 2 days prior to the event to fight blood cancers, ran in honor or memory of some pretty awesome people, and the laundry is about done. Now I’m going to hobble over to the lazy boy, pop some blisters, curl up with the afghan, take a nap and then go for a beer and greasy burger….but I’m not too old for this shit….”I’ll be back”.

Peace Love and Rock’n Roll my friends.