It's 1am... Duh, that's all I have left

So here's where we are. Everyone is still standing, the race is over, t-shirts and medals have been passed out and it's now 1 am. If you've ever done/trained for one of these things you know one inescapable truth. What is it you ask? Simply put, when you're done you're hungry... duh. Me? Not this time, but everyone else absolutely.

What's open at 1am in the outskirts of Coeur d'Alene?... A Mc... yup. one of those. And that's where they went. Probably got a shake too.

Dean's short recap of the experience goes a little like this:
A calm mostly perfect looking morning in Cd'A sent a few clouds and a robust sustained wind through the town of Hayden (where the hills were). Dean wrote as much as he could about everything that he was seeing and hearing, not to mention texting updates to family and friends, and family of friends who where here in town unable to read the blog from the street.

Weather is one thing on a long list of things that are not in your control. You have control over yourself. Not water temperature, not cloudy nor rainy days, not the slow ass guy at Dennys that forgot your pancakes, just yourself... That's why we train/practice.

The unpredictable causes us to adapt and change. Some days it produces uncommon results both large and small, good and not so good. Today it produced all of these in both amounts. At the end of the day though we have finishers, whether you finished all or pieces, we have finishers. Each person putting themselves through as much of the day as they have control over, and adapting as best they can to the rest.

Perhaps this ramble is longer than I meant it to be, and perhaps it's because I'm tired. It's not the brief piece it was supposed to be.

So I'll close with this, from a coach of mine. It was a good day, no one drowned.

Peace. Good night.
-dean

IM C'dA 2008 - What Dean's Bike Would Look Like

Let's say hypothetically that I was to go out and "look" at a new bike... Here's what it might look like...

IM C'dA 2008 - Here we go

It's Saturday night and the work has been done. Workouts completed. Nutrition dialed in. Bags and bikes to transition. Practice swims nailed. It's 630pm and dinner has been take care of. As of now we're T-minus eleven hours to the starting cannon and we're down to last minute prep. Think, night before any major workout. Mixing bottles and getting in a good nap.

This is my third trip to Idaho, and every year the town seems to grow a little bigger. Thankfully the race distance remains the same 140.6 miles. Weather tomorrow looks pretty good. The paper this morning projected that tomorrow would have a high of 75 degrees and not be raining. Not bad considering that it snowed here less than ten days ago.

The good news is that it felt like the lake was warmer today than it was yesterday. I have to say that I'm a little bummed that I'm not racing. For reasons that are all my own, it's good that I'm not, but that competitive part of my brain still objects; softly.

This is my first year as a spectator at an iron distance event and I expect it to be killer. I have the advantage of having completed the course twice so I know where everyone will be and where the best burgers are.

Race Report : 2007 Ironman Coeur d'Alene : Bike

This year in Coeur d'Alene marked the first year of an all new bike course. There are a number of reasons that I have heard for this, but they don't really matter to me. The old course took riders out to the Idaho/Washington state line with a fair amount of climbing and had pieces of the ride that in retrospect felt like unnecessary filler. There was a long piece past mile 35/85 (or so) that followed the centenial trail along the highway and caused riders to hit a decent headwind.

The new course took us out of Coeur d'Alene and in to the town of Hayden. This year's course was quite a bit harder. Though in looking at my polar altitude data from last year and comparing it to this year, it seems like there 4300 feet of climbing (30 miles or so) and last years course had 4600 feet of climbing over the same distance. Though there was 300 fewer feet of climbing I'd say that this course was harder, if only in my mind. I'd say that last year had the climbing over a shorter distance forcing riders this year to climb for a longer period of time.

The biggest change was that the course was far prettier than last year. To the uninitiated this might sound petty, but over a seven hour period having great stuff to look at makes the time that much better. The rolling hills were beautiful, and the long line of riders looked like ants climbing over them.

For me I had the opportunity to talk to several people over the ride. (Most of them were passing me). It was by all accounts, despite being difficult perhaps, a great ride. The weather we had was wonderful, mid 60's to low 70's with a small headwind for most of the ride and a longer stronger headwind right near the end of the ride. If they keep the course the way that it was and you intend to ride this race next year, I'd recommend longer sustained climbing as a large part of your training.

End result, last year 7:50~ish, this year 7:20 (and that's with 12 minutes worth of bathroom stops because of the cold weather and hydration planned for a warmer day).

Race Report : 2007 Ironman Coeur d'Alene : Swim

A year ago I was here in Coeur d'Alene it was summer. The air was warm and the humidity a little higher than anything I'd had trained in. Race day last year brought (see last year's race report here) high temperatures and an introduction to one of the most beautiful courses that I've ever seen.

This year the course brought early spring-like conditions with air temperatures in the low 50's to low 70's, and a 8-12 mile per hour headwind. Of course the more observant amongst my readers will ask, "How can there be a headwind the whole way?" I ask the same thing.

The lake wasn't the smooth glassy surface that I remembered from the year before. Instead we were greeted with an uneven wind chop that produced 1-2 foot white caps depending on the day and time. Conditions were such that as of the race start the swim became optional, with those who wished, an opportunity to work the day as a duathalon beginning the bike at 9:30am. For those of you out there who know me, this wasn't an option worth considering. I didn't come all this way just to bike and run. For those of you who don't here's a little background. I've been around water for a good bit of my life and would tell just about anyone that I'm a fair swimmer. However in open water conditions with a mass of people around me that are kicking and clawing their way forward, I experience a little more anxiety than I'm used to. As a result my swims are a little slower than my pool times would reflect. This time around, the messy conditions did a fair job of seeding the field, pushing those unused to ocean swimming around the course. Many of my team reported finding huge pockets of open water. I was not one of them. I seemed to follow several swimmers who were having a rough time. At almost every chance I had to pass some one would swim cross and close out my path.

That being said I was remarkably more comfortable in the water and despite the water conditions and traffic I finished the swim four minutes faster than last year.

I hear that back in LA while we were in the water rumors were circulating that the swim was cancelled. Rest assured it was not. Though close to 35 people opted out.

Stay tuned, more reports to come.

Those words...

I remember this. Sitting at the race banquet, siping my gatorade and watching the inspirational videos. I missed this place. It's more than the town, though I love it. It's more than the distance. It's the whole event, the stories, the lead-up, and my team in training Coeur d'Alene Ironman Team. Most are ironman first timers and are a joy to have spent time with, and have trained with all this weekend.

Love you guys. I'll see you on the course on Sunday. Stay focused, remember all the training, enjoy the day. It's a single moment that takes eight months, and one 17 hour day to create. And when it's all said and done, you'll hear, ''YOU ARE AN I-....'' nah, you'll hear it just fine when you all cross the finish line.

-dean
http://irondean.blogspot.com

Iroman Coeur d'Alene - Anything is possible

Anything is possible. That's the theme of what I'm calling my sport. For me over the past three years my journey has netted me four new personal records in endurance sports, what I'm hoping will be my second healthy Ironman start, new friends, and a smoother healthier lifestyle.

In taking a moment, there are a number of groups that have made getting here easier if not making the notion of all of this possible in the first place.

First, as should be, are my family. Yes, that solid group of people who desite calling this crazy have put up with slowly returned phone calls & emails, dinners cut short due to exhaustion, and a smaller amount of time in general.

The same could be said for my friends.

I'm not not formally sponsored but I've made some friends along the way. Special thanks go to Motortabs. After trying several available hydration options, Motortabs with the remainder of my carbohydrate needs filled by Carbopro and Powerbars, have been the best practice and race day nutrition for me

11pm - Do you know where your sanity is?

I'm getting on a plane in six or seven hours to fly to Seattle to then fly to Spokane to then get in a car or a shuttle to ride for another hour in to Idaho where my race weekend will begin. A year ago I was sitting in my apartment in Long Beach, my bags weren't packed, my brain heavily in denial over where I was going and what was about to happen. I tell people at work that I'm going on vacation, but this is hardly a vacation from their perspective.

I'm leaving the state for a couple of days. I'm staying in a hotel in a resort town. I'm travelling with friends. We'll see the sights, eat good food, and enjoy each other's company. All true. It's a Holiday inn express in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, a picturesque town on a lake in Idaho. I've trained the whole year with a fantastic group of athletes and we're going together to Idaho. Ironman is in our future, but that's not until Sunday. We'll drive the bike course and see the hills and the long straight aways in our future.

To be honest it'll be an experience not to be missed. I can only hope that it means as much to them as it has to me. A chance to return to a course that pushed me to test myself and my desire to get what I wanted. I don't think that I wanted any thing more in my life than to finish that course that day. Nothing was going to stand in my way, nothing was going to keep me from that finish line. I'd worked for nine months, given up my weekends, and my nights to train my body to accept distance, pain, and the joys of a hard day's work. At the end of it all it was a joy; A joy to walk through the airport. A joy to walk the expo. A joy to see my teammates on the out and back stretches as we passed one another. Training for ironman was worth every minute.

And now here I am again. Five hours from having to be in a cab on my way to the airport all over again. I feel ready. Though I'm not sure I know what that really is yet. It takes time to know what that means. I feel better than I did last year. Stronger. Leaner. Smarter. I want it just as much.

It's ok. I'll sleep tomorrow and Friday night. I'll see the things that make me happy. Wake up in a new place. Swim in a lake. Ride in the mountains. Run near a beach. It'll be a vacation. A vacation called the 2007 Ford Ironman Coeur d'Alene. An adventure. I'm ready.

G'night.
-dean

Wow... 19 weeks

I was looking at my friend Heather's blog (also available here at blogspot.com) and realized that we're, gasp, twenty weeks from Ironman. The sound of it just resonates. TWENTY WEEKS!!! A short time in the grand scheme of the world, and certainly less than half a year. It's getting close people. Now we do a little building, a little racing, a little recovery, and for those that are inclined, a little drinking. (Note: replace any of the "a little" for any of the following as the situation demands: tons of, way too much, just enough, well needed, killer loads of.) In the meantime see you all at practice.

2007 Ironman season has officially started. First major race for us is 2007 California 70.3 race at the end of March... Can you hear it coming?

Cool stuff to look at

I have some pictures to show you, I mean if you're in to that sort of thing. Really though, some good stuff from last year, and this year.

Stuff from my time at Ironman Coeur d'Alene last year (http://deanspace.smugmug.com/gallery/2341195)

A little about my team this year (http://deanspace.smugmug.com/gallery/2341292)

I'm just a wee bit of a photo geek. So with any luck at all there will be some more up here soon. Hope you're all having a great week. Enjoy the pics. -dean

Charity in Ironman: A chance for extraordinary things

If you haven't guessed already I'm a fan of ironman. The whole thing. As a business they've taken what must have been a drunken challenge bet between a bunch of military rats in Hawaii, to a place where women and men, able and challenged, professional and age-group, can come to test themselves on a professionally run course where everyone moves the same distance. They've taken a swim, a ride, and a foot race and made it a profitable brand in the world. Kudos.

As a race, the distances for each discipline are challenging. The locations that can accommodate the number of people and each race event are not numerous but the ones that are selected are still some of the most beautiful in the world.

The opportunity availed to normal, ordinary, every-day, guy/girl next-door, people to be great and achieve is incredible. The road to an ironman finish, a first place daylight glory filled sweet victory, to a 16h59m59s nail biting cross, to an 18 hour solo cross of the line with no lights, no crowd, no applause, nothing but the drive to finish what you have started, is long. There are no short cuts. And every story, no matter how gifted an athlete begins, is fraught with challenge and no shortage of sweat, blood, and time spent training.

As an event ironman north america (World triathlon corporation (WTC) or North America Sports as they have been rebranded) and their presenting sponsor, Janus, have created another way for ordinary people to achieve. Clarification required. I DO NOT believe that anyone who would consider ironman as a part of their active life to be anywhere near ordinary, just extraordinary.

The Janus Charity Challenge is a fundraising program wherein, any registered participant may raise money for the qualified charity of their choice. In 2006 participants in Ironman Coeur d'Alene raised a record breaking $1.36 million dollars for charity. This was the result of a mere 49 athletes (8 of which were Los Angeles Team in Training Ironteam participants).

Of the top five fundraising efforts there were four people, as one person took both 2nd and 3rd position on the top fundraising list by raising a combined $390K for two different charities.

The top five can be viewed by clicking here with their respective charities

Janus not only provides the infrastructure to support these fundraising efforts, but also provides supplemental funds to the causes:

1st Place Individual : $10,000 donation

2nd Place Individual : $8,000 donation

3rd Place Individual : $6,000 donation

4th Place Individual : $4,000 donation

5th Place Individual : $2,000 donation

The beneficiaries of the next 30 highest fundraisers who raise a minimum of $750.00 will receive an additional contribution of $750.00 from Janus.

The beneficiaries of the next 15 highest fundraisers who raise a minimum of $500.00 will receive an additional contribution of $100.00 from Janus.

Some people out there have a sour taste in their mouth from the way that the race has become a business, how inflated the rates have become, and the expense caused by the merchandising of the brand. On the other hand, the business gives to each community that hosts them, offers the opportunity for people to work for causes they believe in, and brings an event of massive relative scope to people who might otherwise not have had the opportunity to challenge themselves.

It is a multi-discipline race, which can be ten to twelve months of training, for an exhausing 17 hour day, but whose finish grants the victor bragging rights for life. I've finished my first Ironman. I'm coming back for a second. I look forward to seeing all your smiling faces at the finish line. -dean

2006 Ironman Coeur d'Alene Race Report

An extract from my post race YAWHOO!!! email.

Hello EVERYONE!
Before a full month sets in let me get this email out to you. On June 25th, 2006 I successfully completed my first IRONMAN distance triathlon. How was it you might ask? It was a good long day. LONG of course is the word that you should be keying in to right now. Why did it take so long to get this recap? Well, I've been "recovering" (read: sleeping, and eating lots...)

I successfully crossed the finish line after completing all 140.6 miles after dark with a total time of 15 hours 43 minutes.

(Note: I just finished typing this and it goes on for a little while so if you're at work and should really be working, maybe later is better for this... or not) ;)

The Ironman was something that, until a month ago, was inconceivable. Who in their right mind would get voluntarily move that far for that long without a valid excuse, like being chased by a wild hungry animal of some kind? Well, on that day in June there were 2500 of us, walking and talking at six a.m. waiting for the race to start. I'd say that that was at the crack of dawn, but in Idaho in the middle of June 4:30 a.m. is the crack of dawn (who knew?).

The Ironman of Coeur d'Alene, Idaho grants competitors of all skill levels the opportunity to participate in what is known as a mass start. Standing shoulder to shoulder, ten and even twenty deep in some places, in a line stretching thirty or forty yards down a beach 2500 people, surrounded by fellow racers clad in wetsuits, stand poised for the blast of the canon which will start the race (yes, there actually was a canon, I have video to prove it). At the blast of the canon every racer charges the water to make a pair of 1.2 mile loops, at the end of each, you get out of the water and charge back in or head off to the transition area to prep for the bike.

For those people who were watching my times online (THANKS!!) my swim wasn't as fast as I would have liked, and here's why... Cornering at the buoys was like sitting in traffic on the 405 freeway on a Saturday afternoon, everyone seemed to know where they wanted to go, couldn't get there, blamed the person in front of them for stopping so suddenly, and was left at the mercy of the block of people in front of them. Needless to say that took some time. On my second loop a swimmer in front of me stopped and I ran in to him. When I stopped to see how I could get around him he was floundering around with two huge cramps in his legs and no way to get to the safety kayaker. Stopping to help him stretch out and then eventually pushing him through the steady stream of traffic cost me some time too (but you can't just leave someone like that out there can you?). So yeah, not quite like doing laps in a pool or even a solo open water swim at the beach.

After an hour and twenty minutes it was finally time to start the bike. Up until this point all I knew of the weather was that the sun was out and it was time to get out of the water. At this point it was still under 80 degrees outside. Funny note here, there are people in transition to "help" you out of your wetsuit, basically they yell, "Get down on your back!" Whereupon two volunteers strip the wetsuit right off your body. It takes less than 10 seconds.

The bike is a charming 56 mile loop from the town of Coeur d'Alene, along a river, up two good sized hills (ugh... pain), and out past the Idaho/Washington border and then back again (repeat just one more time for the full 112 miles). The first loop was great, a balmy 78 degrees and nothing but joy throughout my body and mind over having survived the melee that is a mass start group swim. Within an hour the temperature shot up to 93. By the time I started my second loop the temperature was well on its way past 100, ending up spiking at 103 (I have a thermometer on my watch) by the time the ride was done. Couple that with humidity at over 60% and you have GREAT conditions to complete what was the longest physical day of my life. Supposedly the rate of people dropping out of this race was the highest that it has ever been for this venue.

At mile 80 of the bike I found a pair of my teammates sitting off the road, off their bikes around some volunteers at an aid station well on their way to dehydration, heat stroke, and some other heat related malady. Only slightly disheartening because they were/are the two best cyclists that we have on our team, if they're getting beat up, what's next for me? We rode the last thirty miles in to transition together.

Nothing like being done... with the bike. Now we just cool down with the marathon. Note to the masses here, I'd never run a marathon (measured or timed) in my life. I'd made it to 22 miles, 24 miles, but never the full 26.2. Thankfully again, the venue won me over. We ran around the lake, and through town. Some of the neighbors, in addition to cheering us on for hours and hours, volunteered to hand out food/water, AND turned on their sprinklers and hoses. Two hours in to my marathon the temps were still over 95 degrees and just starting to come down. With aid stations every mile you can't help but stay hydrated and maintain a fair amount of energy. They had all the usual stuff, Gatorade, gels, water, fruit, pretzels and some surprises. You wouldn't believe it but there's coke on the course and it's great for runners (provided that it's flat), that plus water in equal amounts has sugar, caffeine, and for most people it is familiar and easily digestible. The other life saver on the course was warm chicken broth, sounds strange, but it was really good.

Those last three, the coke/water, and the chicken broth brought me in the finish line (that and all the ice I could shove under my hat). It was dark by the time I hit the home stretch. I had had dreams of finishing in daylight, but the heat of the day threw all that out the window and now finishing was all I could see in my head.

One of the cool things about small towns is that there really aren't any street lights, so winding through the streets on my way in to the finish line there were spectators and volunteers with glow sticks in most places and the simplicity of the road, my shoes, and me plugging away at the last few miles in the dark for the rest. The last turn on the course is a left that dumps you out on the the town's main drag, it's a downhill stretch over a mile long (or that's what it felt like). Coming out of the darkness of the street the finishing stretch is lit up with huge portable stadium lights, bleachers with family/friends/well-wishers of all kinds, and over a loud speaker is the voice of Ironman announcing the return of each successful road warrior with words I've waited two years to hear. My legs lost whatever fatigue was there renewed with adrenaline and hope, hope that I'd see the finish line and not drop on the road in sight of the end. I dropped in to a mad sprint toward the lights. Spectators at the finish line watch the chute, an inflatable archway housing the timing mats and cameras displaying each finisher on a huge screen. One by one over the last seven hours participants, now finishers, have trickled in. Some in fine shape, some in not quite so fine shape. Every one of them is met by a pair of "catchers" who escort the lucid finisher towards the final aid station, stocked with pizza and more gatorade than you can shake a stick at; And those not so fine ones off to the medical tent, for a heating blanket and/or an IV. On my way down the street I pass one person after another as they will their bodies just one more step and then another, collecting high fives from the spectators and cheers, huge cheers, the closer I got to the finish line. With everything I had left I actually crossed the finish line in midair celebrating my first finish as the voice of the Ironman announced over the PA, (pronouncing correctly I add):


"DEAN SAKIHAMA YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!!"

When I crossed the finish line I felt fine and as it turns out I knew my name, what day it was, and who the president was so they deemed me well enough (physically) to grab my well earned slice of pizza.

I crossed the finish line in 15:43. I beat out a mass start, hills, heat, humidity, eight months of training, and that part of the brain that most people call sanity which continuously yells, "Just go to the movies next time" to finish the distance. I loved every minute of it, no matter how hard it was, and perhaps because it was hard... Having said that, I can't wait for the next one. Though a few long naps before I have to start training again are probably in order.

My thanks to all of you for supporting me in the ways that family and friends do, talking me through the things that life throws at you, by encouraging me along the way, not writing me off when I stopped talking or writing or falling completely out of touch, and most importantly by being there.

My love to all,
Good night and thanks for reading.
-dean

ps.
Shameless plug, if you have the opportunity to get involved with Team in Training for an endurance event, be it a half or full marathon, a century ride, or a triathlon, I highly recommend it. I've been surrounded with dedicated, positive people, throughout this training period, without whom, I am certain, I would not have been able to finish my race. (Nor would it have been as fulfilling)