Yesterday, Randy and I (and our friend Keith) raced the HITS half-iron triathlon in Hague, NY.
Friday afternoon, Randy and I drove up to Hague to pick up our race packet, attend the last 20 minutes of an hour long athletes meeting, and drop off our bikes. There were only about 160 people racing the half. They also had about 40 people doing a full iron-distance on the same day. Each athlete had a little stool to sit on and plenty of room for their transition area.
After doing what we needed to do in Hague, we drove the bike course to my parents place on Loon Lake in Chestertown and went out to dinner with them - always so nice to do!
We got up a little before 4:00 the next morning and got ourselves together. Instead of using numbers for bodymarking, the race gave us tattoos - very cool. It had been raining and storming all week, so it was questionable about what weather to expect. But, for the moment, it was dry and around 70 degrees. We were able to park right across from the transition area. No rushing around. Once we got ourselves all situated and zipped into our wetsuits, we got into the water. Lake George is such a beautiful lake and up where we were, the water was clear and refreshing.
It was a mass start (with only 200 people, that's easy to handle!) and a counterclockwise loop. I learned very quickly that sighting the buoys was going to be difficult. It was cloudy and the buoys were a dark red color, making them challenging to find. But, I followed the crowd. I figure that if there are people to the left and right of me, then I can't be too far off course! Of course, that wasn't the case at the end. After rounding the last big buoy, I aimed for the beach (with all the other people around me). Apparently, there was a small buoy that we were supposed to go around, which I never saw. I don't think I was too far off the course and no one in the large group I was in seemed to see it either. I came out of the water in 35:01. I'm pretty happy with that.
I got my wetsuit peeled off (best volunteers ever!) and ran into transition. Randy was right behind me and Keith was right behind him! My transition was okay. It wasn't fast (about 3 minutes), but I managed to get myself settled for the beginning of this bike course.
Ahhh....the bike course. The 56-mile course has over 3000 feet of climbing (more than the 56 mile loop for Lake Placid Ironman). 1300 feet are in the first five miles. Upon leaving transition, the course immediately turns onto Route 8, otherwise known as Granite Mountain Road. Up the mountain we went. My goal was to keep in in small gears and keep the heart rate down. I knew it would be slow. It took me about 35 minutes. Of course, after that, we got a great downhill on the other side of the mountain. It was wide open and not very technical, so I could get some decent speed. And the views of the mountains were amazing! After that, the course is rolling with one last climb near the turnaround. My mom and dad came out to watch us go by too, which was fun. Coming back wasn't so bad, until we had to go up the mountain again. The last five mile, of course, were all downhill. I felt great on the bike course, despite a slow time. If I disregard the first climb, I averaged about 17+ mph, but my overall time was 3:36, which was much slower than I was hoping for. My computer said I went 58 miles and apparently others thought the course was long as well. Slower than I wanted, but still strong considering the difficulty of the course
My second transition was fine, about 1:40. Then, I headed out on the run.
I thought the bike course was tough. The run course was downright mean! There were constant hills. I knew it was hilly (after all, we were in the Adirondacks), but I didn't expect not having any flat sections. None. However, I seemed to be moving right along at a 10:00 pace. Until about mile 9. That's when my body was just getting tired of the hills. Plus, it was getting hot and sunny. I ended up walking some of the steeper parts. My pace got a bit slower then, but I never felt terrible. I ended up with a 2:16. Not too bad.
Overall, this was one of my slowest races at this distance (6:33 and I'm normally closer to 6 hours), but I think it was one of the most challenging courses I've ever done. I'm generally happy with the experience, but I think it may be time to look for a flatter course!
This was also the friendliest race I've ever done. The race director and transition area coordinator treated us as if we were old friends and the volunteers were great. The athletes were just as friendly, cheering one another on and giving shout-outs to familiar tri clubs. The course was hard, which makes it questionable as to whether I'd want to do it again, but the experience was great!
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Friday, June 21, 2013
Ironman and Teaching
Four years ago, I was elected president of my local teachers' union. I was cleaning out some of my old stuff and I found this speech I gave about Ironman and teaching. I thought this would be a good place to share...
I’ve completed two Ironman races. When people hear that, they usually ask, “Why?” But no answer I give ever satisfies the curiosity of someone outside of the world of triathlon. When someone asks me why I teach, it feels the same way. Any answer I provide sounds like a cliché.
At the beginning of an Ironman race, there are over 2000 athletes wading in the water. The tension in the air is thick. Everyone is at least a little bit anxious. Will I make it to the finish line? What if I panic during the swim? What will I do if I get a flat tire? What if I get sick along the way? What if I don’t make the time cutoff?
The beginning of the school year feels a little bit like the beginning of an Ironman. What will my class be like? Will I inspire my students? What if I have a student with special needs? What if I have a disagreement with a parent? What if I don’t make it to the end of the year?
At precisely 7am, the cannon goes off and the athletes begin their Ironman journey. Arms are flailing, people are pushing and pulling each other, and some feel like they’re drowning.
At precisely 7:39am, the bell rings. Students fill the halls, pushing their way to lockers and classrooms. Teachers are passing out books and memorizing names. Guidance counselors are adjusting schedules and looking for “phantom students.” We all feel like we’re drowning.
Once we get through the chaos of the swim, it’s on to a 112-mile bike ride. I know what you’re thinking – “112 miles? Who would be crazy enough to do that?” Now think of all those people out there that say, “A classroom full of children? 180 days a year? Who would be crazy enough to do that?” But, the athletes settle in. Of course, those 112 miles are not always the smoothest and they are rarely flat. One of the worst feelings is when you are riding along, feeling good, then you hear and feel the “thump, thump, thump” of a flat tire. So, you break your rhythm, pull over, and hop off the bike. If you are well-prepared and well-practiced, you can get that flat fixed pretty quickly and pick up where you left off. The flat tire hasn’t kept you out of the race – it only slowed you down a bit.
You and your students settle in as well. You get into a rhythm and just when you think everything is going smoothly, “thump, thump, thump.” Our flat tires often come in the form of a student’s failure. So, what do we do? We teach those students how to deal with the disappointment, but we also teach them that all it did was slow us down. That one test grade hasn’t kept us out of the race.
We are off the bikes and onto the run – a full 26.2 miles. This is where the true test of wills begins and the real doubt starts to creep in. Did I eat enough on the bike? Did I drink enough? Did I drink too much? How will I ever find it in my legs to run a marathon? What did I get myself into? Will I make it to the finish line before midnight?
The end of the year is like an Ironman run. Did I do enough for my students? Are they prepared for the next grade level? Will they be able to graduate? What did I get myself into? Will I finish the curriculum before the Regents?
It is important to note that no one would become an Ironman without the support and encouragement of the volunteers and spectators along the course. They want each and every athlete to reach his or her goal and they will do everything they can to help. All you have to do is ask. Spectators stand for hours and hours, sometimes in the pouring rain, to support the athletes, celebrate their little victories, encourage them during their disappointments, and cheer them across the finish line. People even come out of their homes to offer more food at the aid stations. The best part of human nature is on full display and it carries you to the finish line.
As teachers, we also have a support system built right in – each other. Our colleagues are there to offer us their help and support throughout the entire year. And remember, asking for help is not a sign of weakness. Together, we celebrate our little victories and encourage each other during our disappointments. Sometimes teachers even bring in treats from home, and sometimes that plate of cookies in the teachers’ room is the little bit extra that you needed to get through the day.
So, when someone asks you why you teach, tell them about that day’s little victory and then tell them about the big celebration when you and your students cross the finish line.
I’ve completed two Ironman races. When people hear that, they usually ask, “Why?” But no answer I give ever satisfies the curiosity of someone outside of the world of triathlon. When someone asks me why I teach, it feels the same way. Any answer I provide sounds like a cliché.
At the beginning of an Ironman race, there are over 2000 athletes wading in the water. The tension in the air is thick. Everyone is at least a little bit anxious. Will I make it to the finish line? What if I panic during the swim? What will I do if I get a flat tire? What if I get sick along the way? What if I don’t make the time cutoff?
The beginning of the school year feels a little bit like the beginning of an Ironman. What will my class be like? Will I inspire my students? What if I have a student with special needs? What if I have a disagreement with a parent? What if I don’t make it to the end of the year?
At precisely 7am, the cannon goes off and the athletes begin their Ironman journey. Arms are flailing, people are pushing and pulling each other, and some feel like they’re drowning.
At precisely 7:39am, the bell rings. Students fill the halls, pushing their way to lockers and classrooms. Teachers are passing out books and memorizing names. Guidance counselors are adjusting schedules and looking for “phantom students.” We all feel like we’re drowning.
Once we get through the chaos of the swim, it’s on to a 112-mile bike ride. I know what you’re thinking – “112 miles? Who would be crazy enough to do that?” Now think of all those people out there that say, “A classroom full of children? 180 days a year? Who would be crazy enough to do that?” But, the athletes settle in. Of course, those 112 miles are not always the smoothest and they are rarely flat. One of the worst feelings is when you are riding along, feeling good, then you hear and feel the “thump, thump, thump” of a flat tire. So, you break your rhythm, pull over, and hop off the bike. If you are well-prepared and well-practiced, you can get that flat fixed pretty quickly and pick up where you left off. The flat tire hasn’t kept you out of the race – it only slowed you down a bit.
You and your students settle in as well. You get into a rhythm and just when you think everything is going smoothly, “thump, thump, thump.” Our flat tires often come in the form of a student’s failure. So, what do we do? We teach those students how to deal with the disappointment, but we also teach them that all it did was slow us down. That one test grade hasn’t kept us out of the race.
We are off the bikes and onto the run – a full 26.2 miles. This is where the true test of wills begins and the real doubt starts to creep in. Did I eat enough on the bike? Did I drink enough? Did I drink too much? How will I ever find it in my legs to run a marathon? What did I get myself into? Will I make it to the finish line before midnight?
The end of the year is like an Ironman run. Did I do enough for my students? Are they prepared for the next grade level? Will they be able to graduate? What did I get myself into? Will I finish the curriculum before the Regents?
It is important to note that no one would become an Ironman without the support and encouragement of the volunteers and spectators along the course. They want each and every athlete to reach his or her goal and they will do everything they can to help. All you have to do is ask. Spectators stand for hours and hours, sometimes in the pouring rain, to support the athletes, celebrate their little victories, encourage them during their disappointments, and cheer them across the finish line. People even come out of their homes to offer more food at the aid stations. The best part of human nature is on full display and it carries you to the finish line.
As teachers, we also have a support system built right in – each other. Our colleagues are there to offer us their help and support throughout the entire year. And remember, asking for help is not a sign of weakness. Together, we celebrate our little victories and encourage each other during our disappointments. Sometimes teachers even bring in treats from home, and sometimes that plate of cookies in the teachers’ room is the little bit extra that you needed to get through the day.
So, when someone asks you why you teach, tell them about that day’s little victory and then tell them about the big celebration when you and your students cross the finish line.
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