2012 Houston Marathon RR

Sun, 15 Jan 2012 17:20:29 -0600

So the plan was to go for 3h15 or 3h20. Nothing glorious, but 5/10 minutes faster than my PR—on the same course—and on no taper. That would be a good improvement over last year and a good training run.

My A-race for this year is IMTX in May. So my coach, François, had me go long-ish on the bike yesterday, after a regular week of training. No days off. Learn how to run on tired legs, prove yourself that you can do it—the reasoning went—and you'll be in a good place.

But since everyone I met this past week has asked if I was going sub 3h, I started to second guess the plan. So I did what all specialists tell you to do (insert pink font): I changed the plan in the starting corral and decided to go faster. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

So I decided to start with the 3:10 pace group and see how I felt after a few kilometers. It would always be time to slow down, or speed up. We got started as usual: crowded. But there were plenty of spectators: the Elvis impersonators, the chicks with the cowboy boots—in five words, your typical day in Texas—so it was all fun.

Right past 10k, I was still comfortable with the 3:10 group. That's when the pacers veered right and slowed down to pick up some fluids at the aid station, and I decided to not wait. In fact, I was feeling good enough, so how about picking up the pace?

After a few km at that higher pace, I was still feeling so good that I started thinking about, perhaps, bridging to the 3:00 pace group.

I'll be frank, two things motivated me to move myself today: the first is the awesome training program that François put together over the past few months. Lots more speed work than usual... and lots more volume, with one week at 120km over the Christmas holiday. (Of course, in Modave’s world you can’t complain when he has you run 120km in a week, because he is running 200km himself, but still, that’s a nice volume for me.) The second was, well, vanity. Yep, vanity: I decided people around me didn't look quite as fit as I did. So, surely, I could go faster.

So for the next 17k or so I kept a pretty nice pace (for me), right below 7min/mile. I was in the no man's land between pace groups: the 3:10 folks well out of sight behind me and the 3:00 not quite in sight in front. But that was fun: picking up runners as you move forward and having the spectators for yourself, I was not complaining.

At each mile marker, a volunteer was shouting my average pace, and it was dropping each time. Right by 27k, I caught up with the 3:00 pace group... and decided to fly by. Feeling good—I mean, ready to go home, that's for sure, but with enough ammos to carry on. Next mission, get as unchicked as possible.

The next 15k were hard, but good hard. I knew I would come in below 3h, so it was just a matter of keeping a sustained pace and picking up as many people as possible. “If I'm going to come in below 3h”, I was thinking, “I might as well be comfortably below it”. So, off to work.

The penultimate km was probably the hardest, but this far in, you just power through it... and cross the line. 2:56:25. Cool, that's almost half an hour faster than last year! That's also faster than I ever imagined I’d go this morning. And my pacing was pretty regular (see below).

That will be a platitude for many, but I learned a lot today and, in the end, it's pretty simple: first, do what it takes to be ready. Second, if you've done the work, just push. Much of it is mental, so drive yourself through it.

Oh, and I did get chicked—I always do. But this time, just by 16 people, that's pretty good for me.

So if I can learn how to swim between now and May, IMTX will be a lot of fun. Meanwhile, I think it's time celebrate...

Bit of a farewell tour?

Sun, 2 May 2010 18:33:34 -0500

I’m in Monterrey only for a few more weeks. Same for my friend Casper. Since last December, when we mountain biked our way from my house to Cola de Caballo through back trails, we promised ourselves we’d do the return trip before we’d leave. That’s what we did today; and what a trip that was!

We started off from the hotel at Cola de Caballo.

The first 10 km were straight up, with a 9% average. As you go up, you get a view of the Eastern part of Monterrey, including la Presa de la Boca (the lake in the background).

Most of this first part is twisted mountain roads, but we did get a few straight lines. The vegetation is still green in the foreground although it is changing in the back. And the Moon was there too, which is always nice...

As you go further up, all signs of civilization disappear and you’re left with only the Sierra Madre.

Casper did make a point of smiling for the photos but I suspect that he was working hard on the way up. I know I was.

After some 20 km you get to Ciénaga and the road flattens out. The vegetation has turned to pine trees and everything looks more arid.

The first 90 minutes were a tough section and we enjoyed the bit of a flat spot.

No more road after this point, the next 50 km are pure trail.

Some of the drops are majestic!

The halfway point is a bit of a gorge.

But the trail opens up again and the view is spectacular.

After some 50 km, you get to Rompepicos, a dam whose purpose is to regulate water flow in case of storms. It’s dry on both sides these days but when the water comes in, it goes through the black hole at the bottom of the structure (the picture doesn’t give it the right credit: the dam is huge (you can stack up two cars in that black hole at the bottom).

The trail after Rompepicos is a flattish, fast surface. No more of the dried-up waterbed with so much loose rocks that the only way to move forward is to be in your smallest gear.

Some 10 km before home, the trail becomes a road again. The view of la Huasteca is always impressive. We are now on the western side of Monterrey. No more trees: the vegetation is essentially bushes and cactuses; we’re in the desert.

Turning the last mountain on our right, we arrive in Santa catarina, with the iconic Cerro de la Silla (the mountain in a shape of a horse saddle, which is Monterrey’s emblem) in the back.

Kudos to Casper who did about half of the trip with a pain in the left knee so, essentially, with one leg.

That’s 75 km in 5h17. We gained—and lost—about 1,000 vertical meters. It is a wonderful trail and I’m glad I found it before I left.

Ironman Brazil 2009

Wed, 3 Jun 2009 19:25:42 -0500

So, here I am, on the starting line, at day break, for my first ironman. I’m just there to finish. Under 12 hours, if possible, but I’m only looking for the finish. 12 hours, that’s easy. That’s two for the swim, transitions and incidents (I am a slow swimmer); six for the bike; and four for the run. Peace of cake. I haven’t swam, biked or ran the course but it should be pretty straight-forward, right? I mean, I just went sub-5 for a half a couple of months ago, how hard can this be?

Well, maybe it’s a little harder than I thought. It’s not the first time this week-end that I’m finding out I’m just not quite prepared enough. First, the food. No problem, I thought, I’m going to an ironman. There will be plenty of Powerbars for sale at the expo. No point taking any. Ooops first mistake: there’s some sort of import embargo in Brazil so there wasn’t any energy bar for sale. And I did various other mistakes after that one.

But now I’m on the starting line. I know the drill: I’m a pathetic swimmer, so I’ll let the others go first and I’ll follow suit. As we enter the water, it’s much more agitated than any of the previous days. No big waves, but tall enough to make us work to find where the buoys are. And it doesn’t help that there are only four buoys to signal the entire course. Anyway, as we reach the first buoy, everyone makes a 90 degrees to the right to go for the second which, according to the course map, is at the same distance from the shore than the first. After a few minutes, though, we hit a bunch of kayaks with fellows signaling for us to make a sharp turn right and to go for a small buoy way out further from the shore. So we did. We hit a bit of current on the way there and by the time we turn it and head back to shore for the short run between the two legs of the swim, I’m starting to feel tired. I walk the run and head back to sea for the second, shorter leg. Now the water is more agitated. There are still a few swimmers with me but, clearly, I’ve lost big chunks of time. I turn the two buoys and head for the shore. By now my technique is completely gone. My pulse is way up, even though I tried to make a conscious effort to take it easy, and I’m wondering if I’m going to make it through the day. I’m finally crossing the swim finish line. Head for T1. I have no strength left, I have to walk it. Look at my watch. 1h41. Ouch.

Out of T1 in five minutes or so and off we are, rolling. Did I mention I didn’t come with a clear preparation for race day? Well, that includes my race strategy. So I spent the last two days reading the tips that the race prospectus gave us. Start slow, they say. The first quarter on the bike should be really slow. So I do. I resist the urge of jumping on the wheels of the fellows passing me and I get into an easy pace. Not that I could push it too much, anyway, since I have some serious stomach cramps due to, what it feels like, drinking half the swim course. And how’s the bike course anyway? My friend Vicente said it was flat when we signed up and I never bothered to check. Also, that girl at the hotel said we shouldn’t have any problems with it. Of course, I didn’t know who she was when she said that. Turns out that it’s a good idea to do your own research. And if you’re going to rely on the advice of others, make sure you know who your source is. Because, as it turns out, if it is the bike record holder who says the course is no problem, it doesn’t mean that it will go smoothly for all of us. Anyway, so here I am, biking along. I spend the first 20k drinking only water and having a gel or two. After the first hour my stomach problems are gone. Time to increase the pace? Nope, they say I should take it easy, so I do. Eventually I make it to 90k. First pit stop and I pick up my special needs bag. 3 hours straight. Time to pick up the pace, but still keeping everything way within the limits. Another 90k, with a negative split, and I’m back in the transition area. Almost 6 hours straight on the bike. We are still going according to plan but I was secretly hoping for a quicker split. Oh well.

The run course is simple. One 21k loop and two of 10k. Here I go. Slllllooowwwly. Take it easy, that’s what they say in the magazine. I’m eating and drinking at every aid station. And here I am facing the first massive hill of the day. Not long, just ridiculously steep. Come on, is this supposed to be here? Note to self: next time, do check the course. The three parts of the course. I finish the first loop after two hours. Right on time. Finish the second loop in another 50 minutes. Hey, I’m picking this up! Another 10k and I’m done. Surely I don’t need to fuel anymore, right? Wrong again. 6k short of the line I feel this massive wall coming up. So I’m emptying my pockets: four gels and two packs of beans in maybe five minutes. Come on, I have a deadline to make and I won’t make it if I walk. Two Pepsis at the aid station and... I’m still running. It feels that the juice is coming back. I didn’t miss that wall by much but I did miss it. Just 2k to go. The crowd is getting thicker. 1k. People are cheering around. Now there’s a line of fellows parting in front of me, Tour de France like. That’s fun! The bright finish line appears ahead, people are giving me high fives. So that’s how it feels, huh? Not bad, not bad at all. Another left turn and across the line. 11h54.

I’m delighted I finished. I’m glad I did it under my official time limit too. But secretly I was hoping to go faster. I think I still had some juice left so I’ll need to improve my race management and, of course, learn how to swim. Also, I’ll come prepared (course, food, simulations of long runs after long rides). For the time being, I just generated one data point that will give me a reference for next time. ‘Cause there will definitively be a next time. Actually, when can I race again? This stuff is addictive!

Plenty of people supported me over the week; I’m grateful to all. Justyna, who was supportive during the long preparation months and the race week-end. Vicente, who first proposed to go to Brazil, who trained with me the entire time and who had to bail at the last minute. Lilia, who provided the training plans. François, who gave me last minute fueling advices and helped avoid a disastrous calorie crash. Astrid, who always had a nice line to write. Of course, all of my team at UDEM who had to cope with me day in and day out during the entire preparation. And then the fellows I met last week-end: Lisbeth, Alexander, David, Morten, Sebastien, Katrina, and everyone else I forgot to mention here. Thanks to all for making it such a splendid experience!

Lonestar Half-Iron 2009

Sun, 5 Apr 2009 19:45:28 -0500

I still can’t swim.

But this time it didn’t matter that much: at the Lonestar tri, this week-end, I had a personal best of 4h58. I was shooting for less than five hours, so mission accomplished!

Actually the entire weekend was in the same flavor: I had a wonderful support crew between Bob, with whom we stayed, and Justyna. Some of the highlights included serious carbo-loading on Saturday night—complete with pasta and wine, we’ll call that European carbo-loading—a new bike position, courtesy of Tri on the Run, a good night of sleep before the event, no problem at the border, etc. It just went as well as it could.

This was my fourth race at the half-iron distance, and the second in Galveston. This year, the race was part of my build-up for Ironman Brazil at the end of May, so I didn’t really tapper. That worked out fine, though, since I PR’ed in all three disciplines and improved my 2008 time at the same event by, well, over 30 minutes. I just need to lose the same time twice more and I’ll be seriously competitive... Meanwhile I was in the top 20 of my age group, so I qualified for the USA Triathlon Halfmax National Championship.

I also caught up with many friends so, overall, it was a great week-end. Thanks everyone!

I am in BusinessWeek!

Tue, 17 Mar 2009 10:23:16 -0500

Marshall Goldsmith, a New York Times bestselling author with What Got You Here Won’t Get You There and a world renowned executive coach, came to UDEM a few months ago to give a lecture on leadership.

He published one of our discussions in his weekly column in BusinessWeek. We talked about how Mexico differs from the classical clichés and what UDEM is trying to do to change the country. Check it out here.

Thanks Marshall!