The story of Milo, a little ball of crazy

I’ll never forget it… I was sleeping soundly one night, oblivious to the world around me, dreaming about whatever I was dreaming of that night, when suddenly I was snapped back into consciousness. It was an odd feeling, it wasn’t like I was jolted awake, where you jump up in your bed, or your eyes snap open to see what’s going on. One second I was deep asleep, my subconscious filling my head with various images and sounds as my brain processed the day, and then suddenly I was pulled into reality, but not in the typical panic-y way that happens when you’re rudely awakened.

Milo isn't too fond of a camera in his face when he's trying to sleep.

Milo isn’t too fond of a camera in his face when he’s trying to sleep.

It wasn’t a sound or motion which woke me, those usually prompt an “OMGWHATISTHAT” type of waking up. It was a smell. A really foul smell to be precise. I immediately knew where it came from, considering the source had been peeling paint for almost his entire life, so I laid with my eyes closed waiting for the smell to dissipate. What felt like minutes passed, but the smell hadn’t faded. My thoughts shifted from waiting for a smell to pass, to worrying about having to clean up a mess, so I slowly opened my eyes. I first noticed a strange black shape in front of my face, but it was hard to make out precisely what it was. I squinted, waiting for my eyes to clarify the world around me… and when they eventually did, the horrifying truth became evident.

An inch or so in front of me was a stubby black tail. So my initial hunch was correct, what I was smelling was a fart. What I didn’t expect was the fact the fart’s source was about 3 inches from my nose.

Milo, my lovable little jerk of a Boston Terrier, had literally farted in my face.

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Silverwoman – A Guest Post by Tam

Tam finally finished up her race report for Silverman, and I was more than happy to host it up on my site for everyone’s enjoyment. So, take it away Tam!

I am not much of a story teller. In fact, I hate it. And I don’t have much of a memory, especially for an event that lasted 8 hours. I have no idea how to write this thing. I wrote my first draft in 3 hours, just to get all the thoughts out. They were just gigantic chunks of word vomit. So I hope this draft will be much better. Here goes nothing….yet everything. My first race report. And I shall try to keep it as clean as possible…..kinda.

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Seven and a Half Hours of Torture – Ironman 70.3 Silverman

70 miles is a long distance. Most people are reluctant to drive that far unless there’s a very good reason, so it’s wild that there are people who willingly swim, bike, and run that far. It’s physically demanding, requiring tons of training and preparation, which is why most people start training for it months in advance. Hours a day spent swimming, biking, or running, with very few rest days in between, so your weekdays quickly start revolving around your workouts, foregoing dinner with friends for a brick ride and run. Pretty soon you find yourself more concerned with having clean workout clothes than having clothes to go out in! Not gonna lie, it’s a huge time suck.

But that’s just the distance, the low hanging fruit. Lost in all the training, the talk, the preparations, are the aspects of these races that really push them over the edge. The things that take them from just “races” to something else: the course, and the mental game.

The “course” is multi-faceted. There’s the actual terrain you have to traverse: the water, the hills, the corners, the road conditions, the chop. There’s the stuff that could be “sharing” the course with you: traffic, be it from other competitors or from vehicles on the road or in the water, wildlife, spectators, and so on. And then there’s old Mother Nature, with all her lovable un-predictableness. A week out the forecast could be perfect, then you show up on race day to sheets of sideways rain. You can prepare yourself for the terrain, study the course maps, and even pre-swim/ride/run parts of the course, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to account for all the variables the course throws at you. A difficult course can turn a well prepared athlete inside out and wreck their mental state, and even on an “easy” course, with so much distance to cover, there’s no telling what will go wrong.

Then there’s what’s going on in your head. There’s a bunch of evidence that suggests we humans were built for long distance endurance activity, muscles and tendons in our legs act as springs, storing and releasing energy as we run, our lungs are situated in a way so we can breathe deeply regardless of how fast we’re moving, our brains pump out endorphins so we feel rewarded as we go, the list goes on… but there’s a limit. There’s a point where you switch from having an enjoyable workout to your brain freaking out, wondering what the hell is going on. When it starts telling you, no, SCREAMING at you to stop, and setting off every alarm bell it can. When it’s magnifying every ache, every pain, every labored breath a thousand times over and using it as fuel to talk you into quitting. Many people never start the race because panic sets in before they even get in the water, and many more never finish because of the toll it takes not only on your body, but on your mind. It’s brutal, and it’s a significant reason why these races are so difficult… and honestly, so addicting. When it’s over, and the panic centers of your brain realize everything is ok, the most miserable day of your life quickly becomes one of the most rewarding.

It really takes a special kind of crazy to want to do these races… so allow me to introduce myself. I’m Joel, and apparently I’m a nutjob.

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An Easy Warmup – TriRock 2015

It’s been about a year since my first foray into the world of triathlon, having completed this same race at around this time last year. Things are a bit different this time around though… First and foremost, in addition to doing this race with my Team Challenge peeps again, I was finishing up my first season as a Mentor. I was doing the intermediate distance this time around instead of the sprint like I did last year. I’m in better shape this time around than I was last year, so I was hopeful for better results, in the form of faster averages. Finally, this wasn’t my “A” race, it was essentially a warmup for the race I’ve been preparing all summer for: Ironman 70.3 Silverman. Still, I was hopeful I’d put up a good time, and having a good race prior to Silverman would be a nice positive boost before the big one.

My overall goals for this race were pretty straight forward: finish with a respectable time, and with no injuries. I wasn’t intent on going pills to the paint while out there, but I wasn’t going to just doddle through the race.
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I Semper Tri’d…

It seems my race reports always show up just before my next race… but that’s just because I tend to write a LOT, and I re-read everything over and over and over and over again. But… here it is, enjoy!

A while back, a friend tossed up a post for a local triathlon: The Semper Tri, on Camp Pendleton… it was just a sprint, a short race compared to the Bass Lake Olympic distance race I recently competed, and the upcoming Silverman race we’re training for. I took a quick look at the course, 500 meter swim, 30K bike ride, and a 5K run, “short”, relatively speaking, and it looked like a nice mid-training race to just see where I was… especially when it came to my performance in the water. Nothing jumped out at me when I was reading about it, the race was quite affordable, and it seemed like a really cool spot for a race, right on the base. So I signed up!

Retrospective lesson number 1: Make sure you do your research.
Retrospective lesson number 2: I’ve said this before, I’ll say it again, “nothing new on race day.”

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My visit to Sufferlandria – HHNF

Day 5

I’m still not sure how I ended up here. I recall riding my bike along the 101 in California, stopping to fill up a water bottle, and then nothing until I woke up here. I’ve spent the last 5 days cooped up in what I imagine is the remnants of a medieval torture chamber, only there are shredded bike shorts hanging from the walls. I don’t have a bed, it’s just a slab of wood. Oh, and my bike is here, bolted to a trainer in the middle of the room. Every once in a while a tray of “food” is slid under the door, although I’m not sure I’d call it food. It’s primarily a plate of rusty nails, a jar of angry bees, and a glass of some kind of bubbling concoction. I figured if I shake the bottle enough I can knock the bees unconscious and get a few down. I’ve managed to mix the nails and whatever is in the glass together and get that down too. It burns pretty badly though.

On this day, instead of the plate of food the door was opened, and an older man walked in. He glared at me for a few moments, and then waived in what looked like a few trolls. They scampered over to my bike, unbolted it from the trainer, checked the tire pressures, and walked it out of the room. The man told me to follow him. I obliged, although I was more than a little freaked out about this whole deal. As I followed, he began explaining, in rather broken English, where we were going and what was going on.

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Bass Lake 2015 – A Story of Bass Kicking

It’s been a good minute since I’ve written anything on my personal site. While fundraising was going on, I decided to focus my efforts on updating my fundraising page, as well as fundraising in general, so this site had to take a back seat. Of course TriRock is in full swing, so while I sat down and typed this up, I never had a chance to edit it (and have Tam do the final edit, Thanks Tam!) and post it. Well, I’m doing that now… better late than never right? Oh, and yea, this will probably be long, but hopefully it’ll be entertaining. 🙂

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Never Ever Tri Anything New on Race Day. Ever. Everevereverever (Mission Bay Triathlon)

Clever use of the “Tri” not withstanding, the lead into this particular post is a very old adage that’s been passed on from coach to racer for millennia. The logic is this: on race day, you’re going to be pushing yourself to the max, dealing with other competitors, and you may have to deal with unforeseen obstacles (flat tire, crash, jellyfish, etc.), so the last thing you want to do is introduce something unfamiliar and only make things more complex. If you decide you’ll use a new pair of shoes, you run the risk of crazy blisters or injuries. If you get a new bike, you could find yourself miserable and slower because of it. If you add new nutrition elements (different type of gel, new sports drink), you could get a wicked case of the “trots” mid race, and brown shorts are no fun.

Or, if you decide to try mounting your bike using a different method than you’re used to, you could end up on the ground. [Keep Reading…]

12 People Get Into a Van (Ragnar Relay: Part 1)

If you sat back and thought about all the birthday gifts you’ve gotten over the years, you’d probably come up with things like toys, clothing, jewelry, a vacation, surprise parties, game consoles, cell phones, bikes, etc. Now, if any of you out there came up with “pile in a van with 12 other people and run for 33 hours straight,” raise your hands… Just one? That’s a shame, because after being one of the 12 people in the van, I have to say it was a heck of a gift.

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Not so Frequently Asked Questions

Few quick notes I wanted to toss out there:

  • I’ll probably start adding pictures to posts eventually. Depends on if people care or not… or if I feel like it. 🙂
  • There has been a request for a profile of my dogs, which you can see up top. This will happen, soon. I have some funny stories about both of them I can certainly share too. Their names are Milo and Penny, Milo is the one hogging the frame…
  • I might share some pictures I take in the future.
  • Oh, Ragnar, yea, I really need to finish part 2. Not sure I remember it vividly, but I’ll try.
  • I’ll probably ramble on a bit about my car and bikes, so yea.
  • I may review the occasional thing.

That’s about it for now.