Sorry for the absence. I’m hopefully not disappearing this year during the off-season like I did in previous years. I’ve just been relaxing and taking a little break from everything - blogging included. :)

As an update, my knee is feeling much better these days. Thanks for all the get well thoughts and wishes. It was actually comfortable to walk on as of late last week. It’s still not 100% and I’m nowhere near being able to run on it. But I’ll take walking without pain for now. I’ve started my routine of NSAIDs, self-massage, and stretching. Strengthening all parts of my lower leg will begin soon. Hopefully, it won’t take me until the Spring before I’m back on my feet again.

What else? For the past eleven days, I’ve been eating everything in sight. Lots of fatty, starchy foods that I’ve been depriving myself of for months. My parents were here for the race and just left yesterday so I’ve been living the good eating life with them. The end result? I weighed in this morning at 158.8. I left for Madison at right around 152 even. So figure sixish pounds (I’m sure at least 0.8 is food bloat) in eleven days? That’s about par for the course. I’m trying to minimize the damage though - it’s back to fruits and other “tasties/nasties”, as I like to call them, today. :(

Other than that, I’m enjoying the downtime. Getting a little antsy especially as the pants get a little tighter around the mid section. I plan on getting back into the pool as early as next week just to stay in shape and to try and avoid further weight gain a little. Maybe getting back on the bike and hopefully back to running at the end of October?

All for now, I guess. I’m so very terribly behind on all your blogs, but I’ll try and catch up soon! Hope you all are doing well! Oh yeah… and before I forget:

 Registration: 2007 Ford Ironman Wisconsin
Purchase Date: 09/18/06
   Event Date: 09/09/07

See you 2007 IMWI’ers next year! :)

Despite the recent buzz and influx of positive vibes surrounding the recent running of Ironman Wisconsin, there have been those that seek to challenge those vibes with a strange negativity of their own. I’m not sure where the negativity stems from? Maybe they weren’t hugged enough as children? Or ever given a cake with candles to blow out on their birthday? I suspect something like that anyway, as I don’t know why else someone would choose to feed on other peoples’ misfortunes. It’s quite sick though and I can’t help but wonder what runs through the minds of these folks on a regular basis?

Still, I feel sorry for them. Sorry that they can only ever see the negative for with every bad situation there is some good that can be made of it if you stop sulking and just look. I do believe that there is a silver lining to each and every cloud. That, more or less, everything happens for a reason whether we realize it immediately or not. Some of my best lessons learned in life are from things that I’ve experienced that I would hardly categorize as “good”.

Much like in training where our bodies are broken down, allowed to recover, and come back stronger, our minds also work this same way. When we experience hardships that break our resolve, ultimately we realize that we still have a purpose here and that life continues on. You can choose to pick up the pieces and learn from the experience or you can sulk and wallow in misery. The latter seems like no way to live.

Simply put, it takes big dreams to accomplish big goals. It’s sad that some folks don’t like to dream big or that they choose to sit back and criticize others instead of accomplishing something magical for themselves. It’s not fair and it’s not right to judge. That duty is left for one Man and He alone.

So I leave you this morning with this. One of my favorite quotes and one that really sums up everything that I’ve written above.

Dare to dream… BIG!

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt

Pre-Race:

I was itching all week to get out to Madison. Some folks were leaving as early as Wednesday and most folks I knew were travelling on Thursday. Not leaving until Friday had me all sorts of anxious and I couldn’t wait to bolt out of town and get down to the race site.

The drive out there was long, but registration seemed longer. Registration started inside Monona Terrace on the top floor, but the line to register was all the way down the hall, outside, and continued along the side walk! Huh? It was never that bad in the previous years? The line moved slowly and there was bottleneck upon bottleneck while getting registered. It took two hours from the time I lined up until I had my timing chip in hand! Unreal. This is definitely something that WTC is going to have to work on next year.

By the time I got registered, I only had time to go back to the hotel and drop off my bags before it was time to go meet up with our fellow bloggers. Stu was nice enough to be our gracious host, and I finally got to meet blogging celebrities Sara and my long lost twin, Wil. Let me tell you, these gals are as wonderful in person as you’d expect them to be from reading their blogs. I felt like I have known them for years. It’s a shame we don’t live closer together as I think they’d make great training buddies. I also got to meet Pharmie, XT4, Siren, RobbyB, Manitouba Guy, and several others. It was a really great evening and it was so great to meet everyone. I love putting faces to names. Great food, great company and just a great night all around!

Saturday was mostly business. I strolled around the farmers market on the way to the expo, and then went off hunting for some cold weather gear. The expo didn’t have any full fingered gloves, and the bike shop that was in walking distance from the expo had sold out of them. So I ended up with some short fingered gloves instead. Not exactly what I was looking for, but it was better than nothing! I went back to the hotel, got my transition bags packed, my bike adjusted and headed down to check everything in. I made it back just in time to make our early reservations that we had set for dinner. Then it was back to the hotel to get off my feet for the first time all day.

I went to bed early that night, but was up early on Sunday. I downed my breakfast of cereal, Gatorade, some dutch apple bread and a Gu while I checked the weather forecast - high temperatures in the upper 50s, windy, and a 50% change of rain. Lovely! I left for Monona Terrace around 5:30 AM, got body marked, and made sure my tire pressures were good to go. TriAl v2006 had stopped by before I got there and left a sticky on my aerobars wishing me good luck. Better than that, he must have just been there, because he came over soon after to chat.

We walked a ways before I went back inside Monona Terrace to sit down and relax a little. There were folks all throughout the building and the pre-race nerves extruding from the athletes was so high you could cut it with a knife! About 30 minutes before the cannon was going to go off, I made my way down the helix to the swim start. There of all places, I bumped into Jason who I just recently discovered stalks me reads my blog and is the husband of one of Carol’s co-workers. It was so bizarre. Of the two thousand people or so all waiting to get into the lake, I ended up right next to him in the masses. It’s a small world! Jason is an ultra-marathoner so this Ironman thing was going to be a short workout for him!

Getting into the water and to the start line took almost the full 30 minutes. It’s always slow going trying to get athletes past the timing mat and into the water. I swam up front and center for the start figuring I didn’t want to leave any time out there on the course. The pros got a 10 minute head start, but it would soon be time for us mortals…

Swim:

BOOM! The cannon went off and I sprung into action!

I was going to follow the same plan as last year of going out a little strong to get clear water and then dialing it down after that. It didn’t quite work the same, though. I was getting hit and pummeled left and right. For the entire first loop, I just couldn’t get any clean water no matter what I tried. The turns were especially nasty. For whatever reason, everyone seems to like to swim to a buoy and then stop as soon as they turn to spot exactly where to go next. Never mind the hundreds of folks that are swimming right on your butt! Those corners are always just chaos. At one, I got kicked in the face and it banged my goggles enough to cause one of the sockets to fill up with water. I thought my contact lens had fallen out, but luckily it didn’t. I dumped the socket out and kept on swimming.

The swim was a rectangular course. The length out wasn’t so bad, but on the length back the water was pretty choppy. If I wasn’t getting hit and thrown off course by rogue waves, I was swallowing lake water, or having water go up my nose as I picked my head up to sight. On the second loop, things finally started to thin out a bit. It didn’t really help my sighting which was awful that day, but it was nice not to get hit every few strokes.

Soon, I was making my way back to the beach ready to hit T1. I checked the clock at the finish, and saw that I had just done my worst IM swim ever! Well, my best was only two minutes faster and my other was less than a minute off so not all was lost. But it was still slower than I was expecting!

Time: 1:02:35 - 1:38/100m pace - 140th position overall

T1:

I exited the lake and made my way to the peelers. I checked quickly but couldn’t find who I was looking for so just stopped at the nearest person. Then I heard them, “Chris!!!” I looked over and it was Trimama and Trihubby waving their arms. I ditched the strippers that I had gone to first and made my way over to them instead. They were pros and had my wetsuit off in no time! They’re very cheery folks and it’s always a pick me up when I see them out there on the course. Thanks for the help!

I ran up the helix and into the transition room. It was much more crowded than I remember it being. A volunteer came over to help me with my stuff. I opted for a base layer under my tri jersey to try and keep me warm on the bike. It took me a little longer getting the tight fitting long sleeve top on with a wet body, but I’m guessing everyone was taking a little longer today.

Time: 9:11

Bike:

The plan for the bike was to ride easy for at least the first loop if not until mile 80. I wanted to get to mile 80 without feeling like I had done much work at all. But before I’d have that chance, I ran into other issues…

First and foremost, I realized that it was going to be a miserable day on the bike. I’m the biggest fair weather training person - I don’t ride when it’s wet and I don’t ride if it’s cold out. Well, Sunday I got to do both at the same time! I was sort of dry for the first half hour but soon after, the rain had completely soaked through my base layer and tri top and I was out in the early stages of the bike course completely soaked and riding in 52 degree weather. We had the wind at our back for the first few sections so it wasn’t that bad at the start, but I knew that tailwind was going to greet me as a headwind later on that day.

Somewhere around mile 30, a guy rides up as passes me telling me that my saddle bag was hanging on by a single strap. I second or two later, I could hear the bag rubbing my rear tire. I pulled over to the side of the road to fix it, but couldn’t really see what had gone wrong so I decided I’d just take if off completely and stick the whole thing in my back pocket. This should have been a trivial task but after an hour and a half or so in the wet and cold conditions, my fingers weren’t working so well. My fine motor coordination in my fingers had failed me and I lacked the physical strength to pinch with my pointer finger and my thumb at this point. It took a while, but I did manage to get it off and a minute or two later after the whole ordeal, I was back on my way.

Further up the road, around mile 40 or so, I had to pee. I thought about just peeing on my bike like I did last year. I figured, I’m already soaked to the core of my bones that if I pee on my bike, it’s all going to get washed off before I hit T2 anyway. But we had shifted from having a tailwind to riding into a rather strong headwind and I was just getting punished out there. I opted to pull over not only because it’s gross to pee on your bike, but also because I just wanted a break from the cold winds if just for a minute or two. I stopped and did my business and it was relieving in more ways than one! I wasn’t happy to get back on my bike and moving again, but I kept on.

Not too much farther, a guy goes to pass me on the road. He pulls up on my left and starts swinging back over to the right not even having cleared my front wheel yet. I yelled out, “Woah.. woah… WOAH!” but it was too close and I went onto the gravel shoulder. As I tried getting back on the road, my tires didn’t clear the asphalt lip and I went down. I suppose it was good that the roads were slick as I skidded down the pavement for a little bit before coming to a stop. A quick self assessment and I seemed to be OK. No sharp pains or bones sticking out from my skin. My hip was a bit sore, but I could live with that. I had some road rash on my legs and my base layer, tri top, and my toe booties now had a few holes in them. My shorts didn’t have any tears in it either, so I wouldn’t have to race around with my butt (or anything else!) hanging out all day. *phew* I hopped back on my bike not thinking to check it out first to see if it were safe to ride, but it was functioning normally. I could shift and the brakes worked so kept on my way.

The crash must have knocked the saddle bag that was in my pocket loose because another few miles up the road it fell out. I had to hop off my bike and run with it backwards to go pick it up. Have I mentioned that I’m still on my first loop of the bike course?!

Luckily, that would be the end of my misfortunes on the bike course unless you count my overall time which I haven’t gotten to yet. The crowds on the hills were awesome and I couldn’t believe how many folks were standing out there cheering their heads off despite the adverse weather conditions. It was just as awesome as I remember the crowds being and I was appreciative to have them there - especially for the first timers who hadn’t experienced the Madison crowds before. Verona was equally awesome! I saw Carol, my parents and my friend there who were cheering me on. I made it through the first loop and despite all that had gone wrong, I didn’t really feel like I had worked hard at all so that was mission accomplished.

I tried picking it up a tad on the second loop, but my body was just too cold to work as hard as I wanted it to. I’m pretty sure it had its own inner struggle that day of either listening to me and working hard on the bike or diverting resources to keep me from going hypothermic. I’m glad it over ruled my decision and chose the latter, for what it’s worth. On the second loop, I wasn’t going any faster, but folks around me were definitely going slower. I passed a lot of folks that I saw and remembered had passed me earlier that day. I like to keep mental track of folks who pass me early that don’t give the Wisconsin course it’s due respect. The hills on the second loop always seem substantially harder than the first loop. It seemed a little warmer, but not by much. I wasn’t shivering anymore, but I was still very, very cold. As I turned the corner onto the ~15 mile stretch of road that heads back to the transition area, I was greeting with a nice stiff headwind. Just what I needed when I was already down in the dumps. But it was the final stretch of the bike leg and I knew that every pedal was bringing me closer to home so I carried on.

All in all, it was the worst of my three Wisconsin bike splits by far. About 20 minutes slower than my first year and almost 25 minute slower than last year!

Time: 6:18:07 - 17.8 MPH - 431 position overall

17.8… ugh. I think that’s the slowest pace ride I’ve done all year including all my training rides.

T2:

It took a while to get my Polar HRM off my bike and ready to be used for the run. My fingers were still numb at this point. I eventually got it off and made my way into the transition area. I can’t tell you how happy I was to get those wet sponges off my feet and to put on dry socks and dry shoes! Ahhhhh! I was in heaven!

I chose to keep my base layer on. I was still cold and as the race went into the evening, it was only going to get colder.

Time: 4:19

Run:

My easy paced bike was supposed to set me up for a good run. Rich Strauss and Gordo Byrn always write about how folks over pace the bike and suffer for it on the run. That wasn’t going to be me today. I had also decided before the race started that I was going to take a one minute walking break per mile starting at mile one regardless if I felt I needed it or not.

The past two years, I’ve blazed out of T2 posting a 7:45 mile the first year and something like 8:00 flat the second. This year, I wanted to run as even paced as possible throughout the whole marathon so started out what felt extra slow. After having a high cadence on the bike for so long, I usually find it hard to slow down for those first miles of the run.

My parents, Carol, two of Carol’s co-workers - Nate and Stephanie, and my good friend T.J., were all out there again about half way into the first mile. They’re such troopers, standing out in the wet cold mess to cheer me on. T.J. reminded me to keep my pace slow which was hard to do because my legs felt great. I kept things nice and easy, letting folks pass me left and right. I wasn’t going to let poor pacing ruin my run.

Around mile two or three, I felt the ever familiar twinge in my knee.

“Oh, hello ITB! I haven’t seen you really since the early Spring! How have you been?”

Like clockwork, it’s always there to greet me the first week of September. It wasn’t bad for the first few miles, but the longer I ran the worse it got. I’d say the pain got bad somewhere around mile 5. Not good, considering I had 21 miles to go.

I managed the pain as best as I could but as the miles went on, it was harder and harder to pretend like it wasn’t there. Starting and stopping again was especially rough. I think walking gave it time to swell up and running again made that inflammation all that more apparent. I was bummed because I actually felt absolutely great at this point. My legs were fresh and my heart rates were still in zone 2 - something that I’ve never felt this late in the game. But that knee was threatening to ruin my run split.

My cheering section was there again at mile 6.5 on State Street. I was down in the dumps but seeing them cheering their hearts out really boosted my morale. Despite the ITB pain, I had been keeping pace, but my morale was dwindling. But, every time I saw them, they recharged me to the max and I was able to refocus and concentrate on forging on so I could see them again in another 6.5 miles.

Shortly before the turn around, I saw Tiffany from our tri club. She was all smiles and put some more fuel in my morale bank. At the turn around, I saw Trimama and Trihubby again and waved, “Hi!”. Except for my knee pain, I was still feeling great. It wasn’t until probably mile 18-19 that I really started to feel the effects of the miles before me.

“Nut up!”

I’m not even sure what that means literally (I suppose there’s a lot of slang that doesn’t make sense literally though), but it was something my friend told me that Rich Strauss had said in his pre-race talk in reference to getting tired on the run. I remember reading something similar in Going Long:

The race really begins somewhere near the end of the first half of the marathon. By this stage, everyone is feeling quite tired, and the race is starting to grind down people’s resolve. The second half of the marathon is where you will find out the results of your training, pacing, nutrition, and hydration efforts. It is also where you will discover whether you have the toughness to push well beyond your comfort zone. Athletes who are looking to achieve their very best should bring all of their mental strength to bear on the final half of the marathon…

So “nut up” I did and pressed onwards. Miles 20… 21. Time seemed to be moving faster during my walking breaks in the later miles and they weren’t long like they seemed like they were in the early stages. At these later miles, I knew I wasn’t going to break 12 hours like I had hoped earlier in the morning, but I had a shot still at a PR and a sub 12:10 effort if I kept on.

After my walking break at mile 23, my knee completely seized up. I’m talking like frozen solid; I couldn’t bend it in either direction. Try as I might to get myself to run, the pain was just too much.

“!@#$% What am I going to do now?”

I walked for another minute hoping that it’d get better but it didn’t. I was crushed at the thought of having to walk the rest of the way back. I only had four miles left and I knew I could will myself to run that far back no matter how tired my legs were. Another minute of walking and my knee seemed to loosen up a little. I tried running again and it was better than it had been the previous two times. I hobbled for a few dozen steps before it loosened up enough to let me run again.

“Woohoo! No more walking breaks for you! Suck it up for three more miles and you can finally stop moving for good!”

My legs were still tired but I just bore down and told myself, “Just a few minutes and you’ll only have two miles to go… That’s it! Come on, it’s just another two miles! You can do that in your sleep!” And finally, “One mile to go! Let ‘er fly!” Well, fly as best as I could at that stage in the game. I hadn’t given myself too big a cushion for that sub-12:10 goal time, but I knew I was going to make it now.

Those last few turns near the state capitol are heavenly. The crowds grow louder as you approach the finish. I knew that after a long, miserable day of terrible weather and internal suffering, that it was all be over in a matter of moments. I looked around and let everything soak in. I was ecstatic! Short of my planned walking breaks, I had run the entire marathon! Something that I have never done before! Floating down the finishers chute, I saw a big 12:08 on the clock and knew that I had made it.

Time: 4:34:14 - 10:28/mile - 549 position overall

Summary:

Overall time: 12:08:26. My fastest Ironman yet and while I personally still think last year’s conditions were harder, these conditions were extremely challenging in their own right. There wasn’t a time other than the swim and a couple of miles on the run course where I didn’t feel cold.

I swam a tad slower and transitioned a tad slower, but despite a 20+ minute slowdown on the bike this year, the energy that I saved out there gave me a 31 minute time bonus on the run compared to the previous two years. I’ll take that kind of trade any day!

I went inside Monona Terrace and can’t tell you how happy I was to change into some dry, warm clothes. It was totally the highlight of my day! I had been cold and shivering for the last 11 hours and the big, cozy warm sweatshirt that my mom and Carol had picked out for me was just what the doctor ordered! After the post race massage, I got my transition bags and went back to the hotel to get something to eat and sit in an ice bath for a bit. I then hobbled myself back to the finish line to see the remainder of the folks finish up.

As I write this, I sit here in my finishers t-shirt with stiff legs and a bum knee that still gets all sorts of pissed off when I try and move it at all. But it is true that pain is temporary and that pride is forever. There were many points during the day that I thought about throwing in the towel. While on the bike shivering, my mind tried to convince me that I already had two of these under my belt and I didn’t need to suffer today through another one. And during the run, I knew that I was going to be a full week at the very least with a sore knee and a few months of rehab before it would resemble being “normal” again.

“Is it worth it? I mean, really.”

You bet your ass it is!!! There is NO feeling in the world like finishing an Ironman! A HUGE thanks to my family and best friend who stood out there and cheered me on all day. You guys were what caused me to dig deep when I was struggling the most. And a HUGE thanks to all the volunteers that helped out on race day. I know that many of you would have rather been someplace warm and dry, but you all still stuck it out to help out a few thousands strangers who you’ll likely never see again. My deepest gratitude to all of you and to all the spectators to were out cheering us on when there were certainly more comfortable places to be.

I’ve got my hotel booked and my sign-up certificate in hand ready for 2007. The weather can’t possible be bad four years in a row, can it?! :) I plan on being there September 9th, 2007 to find out!

Well, I think I finally got all the icicles out of all the crevices in my body. IMWI just won’t give people a break. The previous three years in a row, they course sported 90+ degree temperatures and today we get 50s and rain. The warmest part of the day was the swim and the rest of the day was just very cold and very wet.

In any case, I’ll post a full race report in the next day or so. I’m entirely too exhausted to make my brain work that hard right now. Thanks to everyone for their kind comments on my last post and for all the well wishes. I am very appreciative of each and every one!

A BIG thanks to all the volunteers who stood out in those conditions to make the race possible for those of us competing. I know first hand how miserable it was out there, but yet you guys all showed up and made the race a huge success. These races are all about the volunteers and just wouldn’t be able to happen without them.

To all the athletes that braved the course today, congratulations for toeing the line and taking on the challenge. Regardless of the result, I know that the experiences that you gained during training and in the race will be life changing. You’ll probably never look at the world quite the same way again.

Signing off… (I can’t believe I’m still up!)

Well, we’re almost at our destination. For the third year in a row, I’ll be making the plunge into Lake Monona, tackling the hills of the urban Midwest, and plodding through downtown Madison. But really, it’s not about the swim or the run and contrary to Bolder’s motto, it’s not even really about the bike (although I do love the bike!).

Ultimately, it’s about the journey that takes place. It’s what happens to you as soon as you click “Submit” for your entry into the big show. A year out, you don’t fully understand what you’ve gotten yourself into and really have no idea what lies ahead. Throughout the course of the season, you push yourself to places you never thought you could get to - that you never imagined that you’d be. You psych yourself up and have great ambitions of riding to the end of the world to see what’s there. And when you arrive, utterly drained and exhausted, you realize you’re not at the end at all and that there is a whole new stretch of pavement you never even knew existed, but that still needs to be charted. What used to be “the end” is now nothing more than part of your intimate world and a place that isn’t strange, but now familiar.

I remember my first run with my best friend. We were only going to run three miles. THREE. MILES. I pulled up at 1.1 miles into the run gasping and too tired to run any further. I remember when the idea of running six miles seemed like a monumental feat and thinking how studly I’d be if I could run a whole six miles straight. I remember riding 80 miles for the first time and how I got back home and collapsed on the floor utterly exhausted and thinking to myself, “I’m never going to be able to ride 112 miles, let alone do it and run afterwards?!”

And I could go on and on about my former self and how I have accomplished things that I never thought possible over the course of the past three years. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that Ironman isn’t so much about the race and travelling 140.6 miles in a day. The heart of Ironman is what you’ve already done before you even leave for the race. It’s about the lessons that you learn and the knowledge that you gain along the way. Not knowledge about heart rate zones, glycemic index, and lactic threshold. I’m talking about a deep knowledge of yourself and who you are at the core of your own being. Just like some distances used to seem insurmountable but are now routine, along the way there are mental obstacles that perhaps used to be mountains that are now nothing more than a speed bump. And the real beauty of the Iron journey is that this mental fortitude that is gained along the way is something that carries you not only through your workouts and races, but is also something that sticks with you for the rest of your life.

Have you ever noticed that Ironman athletes as a whole have this strange ability to willfully shrink down any problem into something so small that it almost isn’t there? It’s something that I didn’t know about let alone think about when I first signed up for this madness a few years back, but it’s without a doubt the gift that Ironman has given me that I’m most appreciative of. We continually push ourselves to the brink and routinely suffer day in and day out to the point where it takes an extraordinary amount of pain to make us suffer. And slowly, things that used to bother us and used to make us “suffer” no longer do. The world slows down. We notice things we didn’t used to before because we’re not so stressed, paranoid, and worried all the time about things that we cannot control. At least that’s the way it has been for me.

So, for those thinking about one day doing something that you’re not sure you can… or that are too scared to commit because you fear the unknown, jump in head first. The truth is, you’ll never know. Others have posted on their blogs that they don’t know if they’ll even finish on Sunday. Hell… this is my third and I don’t really know if I’ll finish on Sunday - stranger things have happened. But ultimately, it doesn’t matter what your result is at the finish line, be it first, last, or even DNF. What matters is the refinement that happens to you along the way.

Anyway, I’ve gone and said too much. I’ll be leaving bright and early on Friday for Madison. For those that want to follow along at home (you can do so at http://www.ironmanlive.com), I’ll be donning number 586 on Sunday. Thank you to everyone who has followed along so far. And to the recent lurkers of my blog that have come out of the shadows to say hi. Your support means more to me than you all know.

Awwww! That sucks. :( I totally hearted Steve Irwin (in an entirely heterosexual way). He was all balls with huge heart for all sorts of wildlife and creatures ugly and “cute”. My condolences to Terri, Bindi, and Bob for their loss.

There are others out there now that have tried imitating the type of show that he created, but there’s always something special about the original. Rest in peace, Steve.

“Crocodile Hunter” Irwin dies

Steve Irwin, the quirky Australian naturalist who won worldwide acclaim, was killed by a stingray barb through the chest on Monday while diving off Australia’s northeast coast, emergency officials and witnesses said.

“Steve was hit by a stingray in the chest,” said local diving operator Steve Edmondson, whose Poseidon boats were out on the Great Barrier Reef when the accident occurred.

“He probably died from a cardiac arrest from the injury,” he said.

Police and ambulance officials later confirmed Irwin had died and said his family had been advised.

Irwin, 44, was killed while filming an underwater documentary off Port Douglas.

Irwin had been diving off his boat “Croc One” near Batt Reef northeast of Port Douglas. A helicopter had taken paramedics to nearby Low Isles where Irwin was taken for medical treatment but he was dead before they arrived, police said.

Irwin won a global following for his dare-devil antics but also triggered outrage in 2004 by holding his then one-month-old baby while feeding a snapping crocodile at his Australian zoo.

He made almost 50 of his “Crocodile Hunter” documentaries which appeared on cable TV channel Animal Planet and won a worldwide audience.

The series ended after he was criticized for the incident with his young son and for disturbing whales, seals and penguins while filming in Antarctica.

Khaki-clad Irwin became famous for his seemingly death-defying methods with wild animals, including crocodiles and snakes.

He made a cameo appearance alongside Eddie Murphy in the 2001 Hollywood film Dr Dolittle 2 and appeared on U.S. television shows such as “The Tonight Show With Jay Leno” and on children’s television alongside The Wiggles.

Irwin was married with two children, Bindi Sue and Bob Clarence. His American-born wife Terri was his business partner and frequent on-screen collaborator.

(Additional reporting by Michael Perry in SYDNEY)

Well, folks. We’ve finally made it and race week is upon us. At this time next week, the cannon will have gone off in Madison and we’ll be a few minutes into our swim. Monona Terrace will be filled with spectators lining the helix and the upper level. A helicopter may even being doing circles overhead watching how the events of the day are going to unfold. I’m getting all psyched and jittery just thinking about the race start!

I’m still feeling pretty good here. I know that I haven’t posted that much over the past week or two, but life has been rather plain and ordinary here these past few weeks. My taper has had me bouncing off the walls at times, but I’ve been doing what I can to stay occupied without wearing myself out. I feel good an am cautiously confident about the race next Sunday. My body is telling me its ready. I still have that inner conflict of not feeling deserving of the fitness I think I have since I’ve suffered in training less this year than in years prior. But we’ll see. It could be that I’m not as fit as I think I am, and that will certainly be plainly obvious race day if that’s the case!

I think it’s pretty healthy at this stage to doubt. Well, to have doubts so long as you believe. Wil did a great piece on her blog on that subject. If you roll into Ironman with nothing but doubts, eventually those doubts will get the better of you and your mind will give up far before your body will. On the other hand, I’ve known too many athletes rolling into an Ironman with nothing but confidence and buckling once something doesn’t go their way. They have a picture perfect race in their mind and when something doesn’t go quite like they expect it to, their confidence goes out the window because they certainly didn’t plan for this. Some coaches may disagree with my sentiments here, but I think a good combination of nerves and confidence are healthy here so long as there is a good balance of the two. You’ve got to respect the distance. The course has this way of sensing arrogance and it’ll be ready to chew up and spit out those folks that don’t give it its deserved respect.

So… I’m leaving for Madison on Friday morning! I psyched to meet so many of you that I’ve known only virtually for the past few months. It’s going to be great to put faces to names and to hang out with many of you. I’m psyched to see Ironman Village again and to walk through the expo. Heck, even the idea of walking through registration has me all smiles. Life has largely revolved around this one day for the the past few months. Be sure to bask in the Ironman atmosphere and take it all in. It’s going to be a great weekend!

The following piece wasn’t written by me, but by Tom Demerly from Bikesport Michigan. He’s a bike shop owner from Dearborn, Michigan just outside of Detroit. He provides a great insight into the upcoming Ironman Wisconsin race and some interesting perspective from someone that was doing tris before the invention of aerobars.

September 10, 2006 is the fifth running of the Ford Ironman Wisconsin Triathlon.

According to the event website, one hundred forty-two athletes from Michigan will toe the line.

Wisconsin, more than any other Ironman, has become a phenomenon. It is more than just a Midwestern phenomenon. It’s an Ironman event unique to the sport. It’s also a paradox. It is among the most difficult Ironman Triathlons in the world with a crowded two lap swim, difficult, technical bike course and animated run usually contested in extreme weather conditions but more first time Ironman aspirants attempt Wisconsin than any other race.

The gentlest version of Wisconsin was the very first edition in 2002. Since then it has been ugly. The first and second fastest times were set at Wisconsin in 2002 by Chris Lieto and Chris Legh. After 2002 the race has taken on an angry character that equates it to the Cheese Grater of Ironman Triathlons. A quick search of environmental conditions shows that the record high temperature in Madison during September was 99 degrees and the low was 25 degrees. That is a wild swing. Given these weather records it is as conceivable that you could be racing in 90 degree heat or a 50 degree chill. The past three editions of Wisconsin, especially last year, have been hot. The run course in 2005 looked like a civil war battlefield due to the heat. The race spared no one, including temporary race leader and bike course record holder Bjorn Andersson. Andersson nuked the bike course in 4:33:35 at an average speed of 24.6 m.p.h. Then the weather nuked him on the run. “There are too many turns… You can’t get going. It doesn’t suit me.” Said Andersson after the event.

According to one report the 2005 Ford Ironman Wisconsin had the highest drop-out rate of any Ironman Triathlon since they’ve been keeping track, somewhere around 20%. There are likely several reasons for that.

Firstly, Wisconsin is among the most populated of Ironman races. Since the event is located near several large athlete-population centers such as Chicago, Milwaukee, Detroit and Minneapolis it is a huge destination race. Athletes don’t have to fly there. With concern over flying your bike and the attendant logistics the appeal of a big, international caliber race you can drive to is obvious. Even though races like Brazil, Florida, New Zealand and others may have less challenging courses and be more exotic destinations Wisconsin is more convenient. For that reason the race sells out every year in the blink of an eye. You get a population of participants that may be marginally prepared and you put them on a sinister course of hills, heat and turns.

Another reason is the race is easy to commit to, but hard to follow-through on. When you click on “submit” the day after this year’s race you invariably do so with visions of long training rides and strict diets. The reality that unfolds between hitting “submit” and the cannon sounding a year later on Lake Monona is something we can’t always control to the degree we’d like. Since the race is close, and they post your name on the website under “participants” a year in advance you almost get guilt-tripped into at least trying the thing. After all, it is just a six hour drive…

Wisconsin is a blue-collar race. There are no hula dancers, no mystic local lore to inspire you. The locals can be a trifle grumpy about all the bikes on the road (understandably) and the painting on the roads to support Uncle Al or Sister Nancy (don’t do that- use chalk please). But the fans are like a crowd at a Bruce Springsteen concert- loud, enthusiastic and in your face.

The course itself is truly challenging in every respect. There is little open water on the swim. With well over 2000 athletes and an in-water start on two laps the swim doesn’t shake out much. You always have company in the water. You go up and down a parking structure for transition and then the bike course.

My friends who have done Wisconsin tell me you only need to know three things about the bike course: “Climb, descend, turn left- repeat.” That basically describes the two lap topography of the rural course through Wisconsin farm land. There are over 80- turns on the bike course. That is a turn every 1.4 miles on average. At 20 m.p.h that means you are turning ever four minutes and twelve seconds on average. That is a lot of turning. And then there are the hills. The first year they did Ironman Wisconsin we sold a lot of 11-23 cogsets to people going there. The second year, a lot of 12-25 cogsets. Now people have surrendered to common sense and just take a 12-27 or use compact cranks. The hills are relentless and steep. Throw in some heat and wind and you are on your way to having legs that feel like grated mozzarella.

Because of the technical nature of the bike course in Wisconsin bikes take a beating. Your shifting has to be spot-on because you will use every gear over and over, shifting literally hundreds of times. The course favors fresh tires and brake pads since you are cornering hard and braking hard. The bikes we send to Wisconsin come back looking like they’ve done three Ironmans. If your equipment isn’t in perfect condition going to Wisconsin the chances of something going wrong with it are high. The course has a way of exposing little problems and making them big.

The run is unique among Ironman runs. It is entirely urban. There are fans the entire way. While this is certainly appealing to those who draw on the energy of the crowd it can be maddening when you are having a bad day. It is like being in the coliseum on the wrong end of the gladiator’s sword. Everyone is watching and it just keeps getting harder. If the course, the weather and your preparation give you the thumbs down there are thousands there to watch you bleed. At least at Lanzarote, Hawaii and New Zealand you share your humiliation with the earth, the sky and wind instead of your Aunt Bessy from Dubuque wearing a giant cheese hat and waving a sign with your name.

So that is the ominous bad news about Wisconsin. It’s tough, it’s crowded, its hot.

But the other side of the coin is that when you finish the race, and finish you will, you have a huge feather in your cap. It is the working man’s Ironman. A grating, difficult and metaphorical day that is like a few long shifts on the assembly line, a tough day in the farm fields under a hot sun and long overtime at the steel mill all rolled into one. If you make it, you’re tough. You’re an Ironman from one of the toughest of the 19 world wide Ironman events. There may be races in more exotic locales, there may even been one or two tougher races, but none more uniquely challenging and Midwestern than Wisconsin.

I’ve never done Wisconsin. I’m too scared. If I went there and had a bad day I’d look like an ass. So I’ve hidden under the bed and stuck to other Ironman races in sunny places with. I’ve never had the courage to hit “submit” for Wisconsin the day after the race.

I love the Ironman Triathlon. To me it is the big show. I’ve done four Ironmans around the world, five if you count the slightly shorter Isostar Nice Triathlon in France now used as Ironman France. I’ve never done great, but I’ve done OK. My best race was Canada 1997 in 10:43:20. I did Hawaii before aerobars, modern sports nutrition and training techniques back in 1986. I’m not fast, but I’ve been around a little. But I’ve never had what it takes to cross the line in Madison. I know one day I will have to walk the walk and get in Lake Monona for Ironman Wisconsin. But this year, I’ll hide under the bed again and watch you guys on the Internet. Best of luck and have a great race.