Triangle Running Group

UPDATE – IM Newfoundland 2007 is history! RMS finished 7:53:52. Congratulations on banging out another Half Ironman!
______________
So Rap Master Sass made some remark about a ‘newfie’ in an email about a week or so ago. I thought, hmm, maybe a typo? Did he mean ‘newbie’? What the hell is a newfie anyways? Some kind of cross between a roofie and a newbie?

RMS takes off tomorrow for a big race. Lets all wish him good luck – maybe by now he has upgraded his Crackberry to the International version so he can get our spammingly good best wishes emails.

Give em hell and watch out for the polar bears/icebergs/etc.
_______________

Here is the report – fresh off the wire.

In 50+ years of over-estimating my abilities, rarely have I learned such a painful lesson. You’d think that being able to do the three legs individually in a total of six hours, and get through an Ironman in 16 hours, might point toward a 7-hour half. Maybe somewhere else. In Newfoundland, I was barely able to break 8.

I hurt too much to sleep last night. My eyelashes are sore, and my teeth are tired.

I do not want to sell Master Kenobi death sticks. I want to go home and re-think my entire life.

Newfoundland’s a beautiful place. Fir trees, moiuntains, and tundra for as far as you can see. The Humber River is bounded by banks so hgh that it could be considered a fjord. Unfortunately, I caught the place in a heat wave of 29 degrees — or high 80s.

This race was a big deal. One of the people who beat me was Craig Alexander, the reigning world champion. All the competitors had shaved legs, no body fat, and $10,000 bikes.

The lake was transparent, and about 60 degrees. It started off so shallow that we walked to the first buoy. I could see my feet turning blue. When it became time to swim, my face would not go down into it. My hands stung with each stroke. Little did I expect that this would be the most fun I would have all day.

The web page describes the bike course as “flat and fast.” I should have looked at the logo, which incorporates several jagged peaks. This was tougher than Lake Placid or the Blue Ridge Parkway. We ground out 18 miles uphill and into the wind, culminated by a 3-mile screaming-calf climb that got steepest at the top. My back went out, and I had no confidence that I would ever do it twice. Although we went plummeting back down at 45 mph, my average speed never got up to 15.

On. July 4, I went through 56 in 3:10 (17.5 mph). In all of my training rides, I did at least 3:30, or 16 mph. But in Newfoundland, I limped home in 3:46.

I was still in a position to break 7 with a 10-minute per mile run pace. I held that pace for almost a mile. Then, I went to my fall-back of 11:30 (my sub-five marathon pace). That also went by the boards. By halfway, I was just hoping to break 3 hours for the run.

At the end of the first lap, I attracted the attention of the race director. He wanted to know how I was feeling, whether I was eating and drinking, who my insurer was, how many fingers he was holding up, and whether I would mind signing a simple release. At least, that’s how it seemed. I must have looked like Walking Death.

On the good side, though I did not break 3 hours for the run, I broke 8 overall.

I managed to beat two or three people.

I found someone who was heavier and hairier than I. He was waist-deep in the river, scooping out salmon.

I killed fifteen minutes chatting with Craig Alexander at the airport this morning. How many other sports can you walk up to the equivalent of a Tiger Woods or Roger Feder, and compare notes?

Oh, yeah. I came within five spots of qualifying for the World Championships.

————————–
Sent from my BlackBerry Wireless Handheld