I'm A Radiator...So Are You

It was warm and sunny, last Sunday morning, as we began our eight-mile jaunt.  By the time Charley, Teri, Suzanne and I reached our bottle stash at two miles I knew the middle four miles were going to be, er, interesting.  As we approached the turn-around point, Teri mentioned something about the heat and asked where the (moving) “air” was.  Fortunately we realized the reason for the “warmer” conditions had to do with the fact we were walking with a breeze to our back.  Immediately we began to feel, perhaps not more comfortable, but at least a little less-overheated.

We’re not running at a fast pace this time of the year, so I have more time (and oxygen going to my brain) to think about things, especially when people pass by on their run/walk/bike.

‘Why is it,’ I asked to no one in particular, ‘I see a whole lot of cyclists training for an upcoming triathlon with empty bottle cages on their bikes; why there are no water bottles in those cages?’

Perhaps they are a special breed of triathlete; they are part camel and don’t need water.

Perhaps they have never had a flat tire or a mechanical situation they could not fix on their own, so they didn’t have to wait for bike support, or worse, have to walk their bike for a long distance.

Or, perhaps it’s simple ignorance.

I’m a radiator.  And if you’re human so are you.  And when that cooling system fails, we can, too.  A 160-pound person participating in a high-intensity sport can have their ability to perform (power) limited by almost 50 percent by a four-pound decrease in body weight.  That same 160-pound athlete, if they’re participating in an endurance event, can see a 5-percent decrease in running efficiency with the same amount of fluid loss.  Take another pound or two of body weight away and that drop in running efficiency goes up to 30 percent, depending on the event distance; the longer the distance means a greater decrease in efficiency

And that same 160-pounder, should they lose 8 or 9 pounds of fluid, can find their normal endurance to do a low-intensity activity, such as walking or easy cycling, cut in half.

I can speak from hard experience that hydration, especially in the summer, is important.  A near-fainting episode during an aerobics class two decades ago proved to me just how a “small” fluid loss can lead to a big problem.  I never thought until that time about how much I did sweat during workouts.  But I’m reminded every time I spin, run on a treadmill, or hit the cardio machine at my gym.  That puddle was originally inside of me, part of my blood which was sent to the capillaries near my skin. 

Unlike our automobiles we don’t have a sealed cooling system.  Our sweat glands, nostrils, mouth and (to a degree) our genitourinary system leak like the proverbial colander.  Sweating decreases blood volume, which means our blood cells have less fluid through which to travel and becomes more thick.  And even if we’re not noticeably sweating on colder days we still lose fluid by exhaling water vapor.

So we need to put fluid back in to replace what is lost. 

I recently mentioned that exercise activity (workouts) of lower intensity, or less than an hour in duration, can be served by plain (cool) water as tolerated during the activity.  Don’t forget about post-workout replenishment by the 150 percent of body weight change (loss) during the exercise period guide.  Don’t feel like taking it all in immediately?  No problem.  Just make certain to drink over the next few hours as tolerated. 

Workouts which go beyond 60 minutes need not only rehydration, but replacement of carbohydrates, protein and electrolytes which are being used.  Every person is an experiment of one; every person has a favorite sports beverage for their long workout.  My recommendation is to find the beverage which best suits your palate, your gut, and your wallet, in that order; the best sports drink in the world for you is the one which ends up in your gut and not in your sports bottle.  The beverage manufacturers know this, also; one particular sports drink, until about two decades ago, tasted more (to this writer’s palate) like powdered drink mixed with seawater.  At that point they developed several different flavor combinations (including iced tea, which I loved) and adjusted the level of salts and sugars in the formula.  (Add a marketing campaign with a dominant basketball player, and the rest, as you say…)

While you might not necessarily think you need to rehydrate on the run it’s always better – as people like to say – to have it and not need it, rather than need it and not have it.  Be prepared.

Can't Unspeak the Spoken Word

Have you ever opened up your mouth, typed an e-mail, or written a letter, and you realized in the first moments after you said, sent or mailed it - once there was no turning back - it was going to cause a ruckus?

Several days ago I saw something which I felt merited a comment within the boundaries of social media. I saw three ladies jaywalking. Some people would have ignored this particular scene. Maybe not, had they seen some of the ironies I had:

First, all three of these women were several pounds beyond the Rubenesque, pleasingly-plump stage. Second, they were jaywalking from the county health office to a fast food restaurant. Third, there was a signal-controlled crosswalk only twenty yards out of the direct path from the county office to the restaurant. Fourth, their journey took them across a major thoroughfare during the morning commute of many local workers. Fifth, they continued their travel without regard for the traffic signal.

I ranted for thirty seconds once I was able to continue my drive unimpeded, then began to marvel at the ironies I just mentioned. When I typed the observation in the social media site I don't think it would have raised as many eyebrows if I had not used one little word.

I used the term "bovine" to describe their attitude during their travel. The term was frowned upon by one of my family, and I'm not talking about my wife.

Suzanne has heard me use the phrase "to get all bovine" at one time or another. I've used it to describe walkers or joggers who by pace and/or position manage to impede the travel of faster track walkers/runners or race participants. Large groups of human beings who stand in a queue, often in a mindless fashion, caused her to use the term. She does a lot of travel. Use your imagination, friends.

But what caused my family member to comment about what she perceived as a lack of compassion on my part had much to do with the description of cattle, tied in with my observation of the bodily habitus. Perhaps she was correct. But when you add the jaywalking across a busy street and the fact they walked into a Hardee's, there's not much I could do to either mitigate the rant or soften the commentary.

Neither this family member, nor a friend of hers who decided to chime in for that matter, have seen me work with people over the past six years. I've met and worked with folks who wish to lose weight, increase speed, develop a life-long habit of exercise or gain endurance/confidence by accomplishing a goal tied into running.

I've also met people who make excuses for why they cannot drop a few excess pounds, shave a few seconds off their 5K time, run when the weather conditions are less than optimal...or even when they are optimal. Some call me on the phone and ask about the workout schedule. Others have my business card.

I gave up chasing folks this last year. It's not that I don't care. It's because I do.

So You're Thinking About Triathlon, Eh?

So you're thinking about doing a triathlon event, huh? I'll admit I like the sport a great deal, which makes perfect sense if you've read my postings from a couple of years ago. Multisport is great because it's an inclusive bunch; the type-A folks, the rank recreational participants and even the professionals are all pretty much together on the same course and the same conditions.

I've participated in the sport at a variety of levels; athlete, event volunteer, course coordinator, and race director. Over the past four months, I've worn the red polo shirt of a USAT official and worked the water, transition, bike and run courses of sprint, intermediate and long distance events.

I walked through the transition area of an intermediate (Olympic distance) triathlon during the first week of September and heard someone say, 'oh, the penalty guys are here.' That's one way to hurt someone's feelings, even if they are wearing a red or zebra-striped polo shirt.

The role of a USAT certified official blends two different professions, that of educator and of law enforcer. Before the gun goes off, the referee/s work to make certain the "playing field" is safe and fair for everyone. The head referee for a race wears a zebra-striped shirt and serves as the final authority when it comes to the rules and penalties. Any violation written by an assistant referee (who wear red shirts) is verified or can be nullified by the head referee, depending on the assistant's description. Not even the race director can overturn a violation penalty. The zebra serves as defense counsel, prosecution, judge, jury and (regrettably, sometimes) executioner.

The referees check the water temperature to determine if wetsuits can be used, review the transition layout to every athlete travels the same amount of distance as their fellow participants, checks to make certain bikes are safe, legal, numbered and racked correctly, looks at helmets and equipment to make certain they meet USAT standards, and answers rules-related questions.

Once the gun goes off, it's time to enforce the rules.

Often, new and relatively-inexperienced participants suffer - at the least first-race or tri-newbie angst, at the worst variable time penalties and even disqualification - for mistakes made in training or in training groups. Really.

I think back to my first handful of races; I would have been penalized at least twice in my first triathlon and probably disqualified in my first long-distance triathlon for rules I said I knew and agreed to follow when I signed my event waiver. So, not only am I talking from the perspective of a guy who knows most all of the relevant rules, I'm talking from a guy who's seen or broken most of the easily-broken rules.

So, let's talk about some things you can do to make those first few races go more smoothly.

Before you go inside transition, make sure you've mounted your race numbers on your bike and helmet. Both should be clearly visible from the left-hand side. Make certain your body marking is clear and large. If the race director provides body marking tattoos, place them slowly and carefully. Most importantly, check to see whether your tires are inflated, gears shift and - most importantly - the ends of your handlebars are plugged. If they aren't, ask a transition volunteer to direct you to bike tech support. In the case of the bar ends, they have to be plugged or you won't be able to ride that bike. Of all the rules referees are charged to enforce the bar end rule is one of the three which can lead to a disqualification.

Once you are in transition, it's all about you. Some events are more stringent than others in keeping family members out of transition. It's both for the safety of the racers and the security of their gear; some bikes I've seen are two months' worth of paychecks on skinny tires.

Once you find your rack area, place your bike either with the handlebars on the rack or hang it by the saddle. Now take a look at your bike. Whatever way you have racked it, the space from the rail from where you hung the bike out to where your bike wheel touches the ground is space which is reserved for your gear. If there's no space in the area where you are supposed to rack your bike, talk to the racers in that area, a transition volunteer or a referee to help adjust the bikes. Staggering so every second bike faces the same direction allows each racer to have a space up to 75 centimeters wide (the legal maximum width of a bicycle according to USAT competition rules) for their gear.

Take a moment or two to look at the layout of really experienced triathletes. You'll find they have less gear than the less-experienced athlete. It's not necessarily that they have more on the bike, but they've learned to bring the least amount of gear necessary for their event. I recall the layout of a guy in my age group from my first triathlon; he had a stool for a seat, a bucket for his feet, not to mention the towel, helmet, bike shoes, water bottle, etc. His wife stepped in to assist him in transition, too, but that's another story.

So the gun has gone off and you got through the swim - I'm usually smiling about this point, because if anything is going to do me in it's going to be the swim.

Once you've come out of the water and entered transition for the first time, think: Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Put on the helmet first. Set it properly on your head. Facing forward - only the pros are required to wear their helmet properly, but a properly worn helmet is a helmet which might save your life. Buckle the chin strap. Good. Now work on everything else. Once you have the shoes and helmet on, walk quickly and smoothly to the mount line, then get on the bike.

The unbuckled chinstrap can get you in a world of trouble if you mount your bike; it's a variable time penalty in transition and a disqualification if you're on the course. I've seen new racers with buckled chinstraps which hang down like they were playing hockey. Or the helmet is tilted back on their head; especially ladies who have pinned their hair up. The helmet has to fit snugly; a loose helmet is one which won't protect the head in a crash.

I saw an athlete walk through transition toward the mount line at a recent race. I called out, 'racer number (blank)...racer number (blank)...YO, DUDE!' He couldn't hear me. He was wearing an iPod. Another racer had a set of headphones hanging around his neck.

Music headphones are not allowed in triathlon events. Even if they aren't on your ears. Outside of being dangerous on the bike, because it's impossible to tell who or what may be approaching, USAT considers music players, cell phones and radio devices unauthorized equipment, something which can be used to provide a tempo (pace) reinforcement or possibly provide you information on the location of fellow competitors. Either way you want to look at the use, it merits a variable time penalty.

The bike leg of a triathlon has four very simple rules; ride on the right hand side of the road. Pass on the left hand side of the road. Stay back three bike lengths from any rider in front of you. Make the pass in 15 seconds; once you make the pass keep pedaling and move to the right side of the road. If you're passed, move back three bike lengths before trying to make a pass. The hard part, usually, is that inexperienced riders are used to riding side-by-side with friends or being closer than three bike lengths apart from another rider.

Hear those motorcycles? That's the referees. They're riding along to make certain all the riders are following the rules. A group of riders on the road is usually a tell-tale sign for the motorcycle and referee to come watch and make sure everyone is playing fairly.

Sometimes the sound of a cycle will make riders tighten up their distance or position. Other times it will force a rider to attempt the pass because they were too close when we arrived - 7 meters/23 feet is closer than most people think, but once you're within that space there's only one legal way out. Through the front. In 15 seconds.

If someone is drafting off you, don't yell at them or argue. If there is enough referee coverage on the course they'll be eventually found out.

When you get to transition, slow down before you hit the dismount line. Get off the bike, then walk into the transition. Again, remember the mantra...slow is smooth. Smooth is fast. Set your bike on the rack, remove your helmet, then put on your shoes.

We've had many racers ask whether their spouse/child/friend can run with them on the run course. Only if they run with everyone else, we tell them. Impossible? Only one family member and hundreds of runners? I guess it wouldn't be fair then, would it? They can stand along the curb and cheer you on, but don't use your cell phone to chat with them. Remember, those things aren't allowed, right?

And while we're talking about being on the course, make certain that everything you take with you during the event stays with you. Don't toss your empty bike bottles or gel packets unless you're literally in sight of an aid station. A lot of towns really are down on triathlon events because the participants treat their roadways and lots like it is their own personal rubbish bin.

And if you find you've been penalized after the event, the head referee normally stays until the end of the awards presentations to answer rules and violation questions. They might have written your violation, or their assistant/s may have. Either way, they will be able to explain what was seen on course and how it violated the rules.

Multisport is like golf for the high-strung: You can have the perfect race and still find areas which need improvement. You can focus on one area and get really good, then suddenly find out you've slipped in the other two. So, it's a balance of power, speed, technique and smarts...two hours of racing can whip your butt for the day...or you can achieve a state of euphoria after six hours. Find the distance you like and try it out.

The Smartest Person In The Room

'Aceptese este consejo aunque sea de un conejo.' (Accept this advice even if it comes from a rabbit.) - Witticism posted by Dr. Luz Paredes Lono, Hillsborough Community College, FL, Spring 1998.

"...Can you take a look at something for me?" I limped toward my local running specialty store proprietor, Paul, as he walked up the front stretch of the track. "I'm watching one of my athletes and something looks a little unusual."

He says, "Sure. Don't tell me what you see, though," and watches the two female runners running along the back stretch.

Paul turns and mentions a couple of things about both of the ladies, then returns to his group of youth runners and their stretching routine.

"Thanks. I must be reading too much into what I see," I call.

Coaching, like teaching and other disciplines where science and art intersect, can either be a solitary or a collegial endeavor. Whether coaching is their vocation or an avocation, the odds are good every coach doesn't possess an encyclopedic knowledge of 'everything there is to know about training runners.'

Most coaches know what we don't know, but there are times we don't know the degree of what we don't know. I can research and learn more about those things; sometimes the learning curve is smoother if I make a phone call, make a visit or send an e-mail to a friend who's had a little more experience with the topic. If they are in a profession (or a business) in which their knowledge of a topic means the difference between success and failure, why should I over-work myself?

I can refer my athlete/s to "the smartest person in the room."

A 19th century German writer and politician coined the term 'realpolitik,' which described the acquisition, maintenance and application of power or authority in a practical, goal-oriented manner. My friend Paul occasionally refers interested adult runners to me; I point runners in need of good shoes to him. It has not always been an equitable state; I do not have to depend on coaching to place food on the table and keep a roof over my family. But, we both are well-aligned in our goals: We both want to help people become and remain lifetime athletes.

And that's the smartest thing we both can do.

The More You Complain...

...The Longer God Lets You Live. - Bumper Sticker

One of the first things I love/hate to do immediately after a local running event is to read the bulletin board for the local running organization. I am amused & appalled, all at the same time, by the commentaries. Traditionally these are the posts you end up seeing:

1. Looking For Results. - This person may (or may not) know the event was produced by someone other than the organization who hosts the bulletin board, & doesn't check the web site for the race management company who did time/score the race. Diagnosis: Benign lack of knowledge. Treatment: Education on who scored the event, taken every six months. Prognosis: No known cure.
2. Where's My Award? - this person couldn't stick around for the age group awards because they had to work, didn't want to spend time around a bunch of people drinking light beer at 9:30 in the morning on a Saturday, or knew if they stayed and had beer at 9:30 in the morning they would be completely useless for the remainder of the afternoon. Doesn't matter the award is a nondescript beer glass with no specific year, age or place information (I used to complain about that before, but now, as a race director I learned it's a way to keep the award costs down.), or worse, a nylon ribbon with no race information on it...they want that piece of swag; they need that piece of swag for their I Love Me wall. Diagnosis: Low-grade isolationism. Treatment: Proxy award recipient, taken as needed. Prognosis: Curable, usually by attending evening events or events where beer is not served.

3. You Timed/Scored Me Wrong. - When the individual participant's time doesn't match exactly with their Timex Ironman. I've seen some discrepancies of 10 seconds for every three minutes it takes to run a mile, on average, for which I have no clue. Sometimes I think it's human/computer interface, sometimes I think it's 50 cycles versus 60 cycles of power...again, something for which I have no clue. I once thought bandits were the reason, then I figured 'dude, there'd have to be a lot of banditry to put an ever-increasing margin of error across the board...' Of course, in my humble opinion, as long as you get my score correct (first master, first age group, second age group, whatever...) I'll can accept my own timing & overlook yours. Diagnosis: Multifactorial time-space-training continuum dysfunctionality. Treatment: Popsicle stick/three-by-five card scoring system, take for next three mid-summer races. Prognosis: Presumably non-fatal, but replacement of wanna-be professional chip with amateur chip may be needed in two years.

4. Race Organizer Done Me Wrong. - This could be something as simple as not announcing a name correctly during the awards, to a perceived slight, to not getting the right sized t-shirt...not enough beer...stale bagels...cold chicken wings...no chicken wings...and the list goes on...and on...and on... Diagnosis: Sub-acute Nominally-Anonymous Running Know-It-All Yahoo B@stard (abbreviated: "SNARKY B@stard"). Treatment: IP search, followed by clumsy bludgeoning until apology elicited.

The postings become more & more anonymous, & more inflammatory as you move further down the spectrum from 'can you help me find the results?' to 'why was so-and-so (in my humble opinion) acting like a jerk?' I haven't figured why someone with an axe to grind (all right, that's me on some occasions...) takes their frustrations out on someone in a bulletin board without having the decency to either say it constructively or to identify themselves positively.
I guess it's always more fun for the knucklehead who posts anonymously on a bulletin board to be the one who throws the grenade into the crowded conference room. Rather than saying: 'dude, this race s*cked because this wasn't done; where can I help out to make the event better next year?' they say, 'dude, this race s*cked.'

In defense of most race organizers, they're trying often to do the right thing; make certain nobody gets hurt, then make certain people have a good time...usually in that order. Usually the people who are posting derogatory, anonymous posts are a very small minority, the ones you would not mind not showing up to your next race because they'll never be happy & you'll never be able to encourage them to help out with an event...see the other side of the fence.

OH, AND BY THE WAY...

Happy 69th Birthday, Dad. I'll do 69 minutes on the treadmill in your honor tonight.