Eric Mellow

Ironman

2010-09-28T18:32:00.000-07:00

No football,rugby,soccer,or whatever player can touch him.
He has become the ultimate endurance athlete. He is now an "Ironman"
-from Urbandictionary.com

This blog begins, as most race blogs do, with a sleepless night the night before the race. Of course, there was packing, the drive down, race packet pick up, etc., but those things are of little interest and should go without saying. I think I slept solidly for about 2.5 hours, before spending the hours between 1:30 and 4:00 tossing and turning. At 4 I got up to eat about 700-800 calories so it would have time to digest before the start of the race. I woke Emily up at 5 and soon we struck out into the dark to Lake Hefner. It was a calm, warm morning, but for some reason getting ready in the dark always makes me feel cold.

Pinks and oranges were just beginning to leak from the horizon as we entered the water. I had nearly gotten sick before we left the hotel, but now I just wanted to get started. The anticipation is always the worst - unless, of course, you have a bad race, then the bad race is the worst. The water was was warm, and rusty from the red Oklahoma dirt. We're staggered about the start line, but as the 2 minute warning is called, we become more cohesive and a line is formed. The gun goes off, and the journey begins.

We quickly turned the quiet lake into a frothy mess, like a school of attacking piranha. I was so distracted by getting hit by other swimmers, and so concentrated on looking for open water in which to swim, that we came to the first turn of the rectangular course before I knew it. It spread out a little the second half and I finished the first loop in 42 minutes. I was pretty much on target, so I set back in to a steady pace and tried not to think about the long day ahead. Unfortunately, on the second half of the second loop, it became hard to concentrate, and I let my mind wander. I stopped sighting for the buoys, and was just swimming away. Then next thing I know, I look up and I'm nearly in the middle of the rectangle. I'm sure this mistake cost me some time, but I'm not a fast swimmer, and it wasn't worth getting worked-up about. I got back on course and finished the swim in about 1:30. It was 10 minutes slower than I anticipated, but what's 10 minutes in a 12+ hour day?

I exited the water and, for the first time in my life, had the pleasure of being helped by wetsuit strippers. Here's how it happens: upon exiting the water, you unzip your wetsuit and free yourself from the top half. You pull it down as low as you can around your waist as you are running up the swim finish chute. Then, once you reach the wetsuit strippers, you lay on the ground and the yank the wetsuit off of you, pulling you partially off the ground in the process.

2.4 miles out of the way; I'm 1/3 of the way done?

I got my bike gear on, grabbed my bike, and headed out. It was a 4 loop course of about 28 miles each. Once we got out of town, it was mostly rolling hills through the countryside. It reminded me a lot of Nebraska, actually. I was a bit surprised, because the website made it seem like it was going to be flatter, but there were no significant climbs, so I'd say it was a pretty easy course. There were a couple stretches of a few miles each where the road was really rough, but other than that it was pretty smooth sailing. With 112 miles and a marathon still ahead of me, I tried to remember to race smart and made sure I was taking it very easy the first lap. I started in on my nutrition and made sure I was eating or drinking every 15 minutes. By the end of the 2nd loop the wind had picked up a little bit and It was getting hard to make myself eat. By the end of the 3rd loop, I didn't even want to go back out. The wind stuck around and on the 4th loop it was starting to get hot. It was also nearly impossible to make myself take in nutrition, but I forced myself because I knew that I might not get in anything other than liquids on the run. I finished the bike in 6:30, about 30 minutes slower than I wanted to; I was tired and definitely could have been done for the day, but I knew there was still a lot of work to be done and I tried to stay in the game mentally.

112 more miles out of the way; only a marathon left?

The marathon was another 4 loop course of about 6.5 miles each. I knew that if I started walking I would easily add 4-6 minutes per mile to my time and ruin a decent race; in fact, I planned my entire race around making sure that didn't happen. I picked a steady pace and headed out on the run. Immediately I was met by people walking - either heading out on their first lap or heading back in. I was tired, sure, but I had high hopes of running the entire marathon, and I was going to try to run until I couldn't anymore. I got through the first loop about 5 minutes faster than I thought I would, but during the 2nd loop was when everything started to hurt. Pretty much everything from my bellybutton down hurt. Also, my stomach was sloshing from all of the liquids, but it was hot and I was too scared of my body shutting down to stop drinking at the aid stations. Every second that I spent walking through an aid station (to make sure I was getting down my fluids) felt like heaven. It was amazing how much better it felt to walk than to run, but I was determined to keep going if I could. At this point, during the second and third loops, there were very few people actually running the marathon, so any time the spectators saw one of us they were genuinely impressed. Their words of encouragement and exclamations of awe at the fact that some of us were actually still running the marathon we're quite inspiring.

The sun was dragging a trail of purple and gold clouds with it as it began to set behind the lake at the start of my last loop. At this point I had been so focused on parts all day, that all I could think about was that I was going to make it through the last loop and run the entire marathon. The thought that I was going to finish an entire Ironman didn't even cross my mind. I did, however, realize that I needed to pick up the pace a bit if I wanted to break twelve hours and 30 minutes. Everything hurt, but I was able to go faster without much of an increase in effort - a sign that I had paced myself well and maybe even could have had a faster time had I known where that thin line was. On the way back to the finish line I started replying to and high-fiving the spectators. Finally I was having fun. After three loops, I knew where all the turns were, and I knew I was running faster, but the finish line just didn't seem to be getting closer. I came around the final turn, about half a mile from the finish, and I could hear the announcer calling out the name of a finisher. As I got closer, I saw the clock and knew I was going to break 12:30. I walked the last few feet of the finish chute, and raised a hand in victory.

Such a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders, and all I could think about way laying down and not getting back up. It wasn't until a volunteer hung the medal around my neck and said, "Congratulations, Ironman," that it really hit me. I just did an Ironman triathlon. I sat down and drank some chocolate milk. The volunteers kept asking me if I was ok and if I needed to go to the medical tent. I guess it's a serious event when they continually ask you if you need to go to the med tent after you finish. I really didn't know what I wanted - I wanted something to drink, something to eat, and to lay down and sleep all at the same time. I knew I probably shouldn't keep sitting, so Emily helped me up and walked me to the tent to get my finisher's shirt. I was pretty much a wreck at this point. All of my muscles were stiff and sore. My feet hurt and I was walking like someone who just got hit by a bus. Emily helped me gather up my things and then brought the car around so I didn't have to walk to it. She was out there all day too, and she was amazing. I'm really glad she wanted to come with me.

When we got back to the hotel, all I wanted to do was lay down, but I was disgusting, so I manged to shower. The shower drained slowly, and after I got done and all the water finally trickled down the drain, there were a number of small ribbons of salt snaking their way towards the drain. It was ridiculous how much salt there was. I was actually kind of impressed. We got some food and went back to the hotel to get some rest. I had just done a 12.5 hour race on only a few hours of sleep, but unfortunately I was so sore that I couldn't get comfortable. I would spend the night tossing and turning, and only get a few hours of sleep for the second night in a row.

Sunday I was a wooden doll whose hinge joints were rusty, but Monday I was starting to feel better. Thanks to having the day off and my girlfriend getting me a massage, I was nearly moving normally again by Tuesday. Honestly, it took a couple days to sink in, but I'm really proud of what I accomplished. There were points during the race when I was sore and I knew that my body wasn't working right or digesting food that I thought that an Ironman is probably not something that anyone should ever do to their body, but I'm only a few days out and I'm already thinking about breaking 12 hours.

Frame of reference (140.6 miles):
Had I started the race in Lincoln and raced a straight distance, I could have raced to Kearney, NE; Manhattan, KS; St. Joseph, MO; or Sioux City, IA.

Awesome:
I had the 4th fastest marathon time

Not awesome:
My swim time was comically slow

Best part of the day:
Wetsuit strippers or being called an Ironman at the finish

Worst part of the day:
Forcing myself to eat at the end of the bike

Next crazy adventure:
www.canadiandeathrace.com?

RAGBRAI 2010

2010-08-15T17:30:00.000-07:00

Saturday, July 24th, was a warm summer day, but not nearly as hot or humid as you might expect for Nebraska in July. My wonderful girlfriend, Emily, drove me up to Omaha to meet up with my college buddy, Matt, and his friends from Kansas, who would be joining us for RAGBRAI. Emily dropped me off at The Upstream and I met up with Matt. Matt ate lunch and we killed some time walking around the old market as we waited for the guys from Kansas. After a couple of hours they finally showed up. They couldn't find a parking spot close to where we were, so they parked a few blocks away and Matt sent me ahead to screw with them. I found them (Larry, Kyle, and Colin) milling about the car and took them for a ride, asking them if they were, "on some sort of racing team," and "if they had room in their car for me and my bike because I've always wanted to do RAGBRAI." It was a magical first meeting. They had a good laugh when I told them the truth and I knew they would be a good group of guys to spend RAGBRAI with. We left for Sioux City in two cars.

When we arrived we found a nice grassy knoll upon which to set up our tents and, once our campsite was established, we immediately started drinking. We took a short break to check out the expo, where Matt and Colin (both bike mechanics), kept running into people working the tents that they knew. We milled around for a bit, joked about missing the Smash Mouth concert, and headed back for more drinking until we called it a night.

RAGBRAI, for those of you who don't know, is a cycling event across Iowa. It is the oldest, largest, and longest multi-day bicycle tour in the country. There are about 15,000 people who do it and cyclists completely take over both lanes of the highway. There is a start town and an end town each day, and in between we pass through little towns that are essentially shut down and turned into one big street festival. The enormity of this event is nearly unfathomable and, unless you've done it before, there is no way to accurately describe it that would convey the true chaos of RAGBRAI.

This post has the potential for becoming excessively long, so I'm going to do the rest of the week like this...

Day 1:
Woke up too early (this was to be the theme for the week because insanely slow people get up at 5:00 to be obnoxious and get ready to start riding, since it's going to take them all day)
Beautiful weather
68.5 miles with 3,687 feet of climbing
Matt's drive day (one person had to drive each day to get our gear to the end town. Matt rode a single speed, so he decided to drive the day with the most climbing)
Best thing that happened - found a party farm 5 miles from the end town with free beer and brats. Also, free watermelon at one of the towns along the way.
Ended in Storm Lake. That town is beautiful.

Day 2:
Woke up too early
Another beautiful day
100 miles with 1,416 feet of climbing
Colin's drive day since we were all doing the extra loop to make it a century ride and Colin thought that Idea was dumb.
Best thing that happened - stopped 10 miles from the end town and gorged on all-you-can-eat pasta and garlic bread (which was delicious), but then had too many beers and got WAY too full. Also, was on the periphery of an accident and got stabbed in the Achilles tendon by my big chain ring. Kyle and Larry were riding drunk the last 10 miles and were hilarious (and STILL way faster than us).

Day 3:
HOT AS HELL
59.9 miles with 1,068 feet of climbing
My drive day, since I figured I'd be sore from the longest ride of my life (I was right)
Best thing that happened - Went to the pool in the end town. We all got sunburned and watched a (probably drunk) older lady with fake boobs have WAY too much fun

Day 4:
51.8 miles with 1,180 feet of climbing
Kyle's drive day
Best thing that happened - Stopped for Mr. Porkchop (delicious), took the wheels off of Colin's bike, and left while he was still in line for food. "Really, guys? Really?!" It was priceless and would not be the only time his wheels got removed from his bike.

Day 5:
Larry's drive day
82 miles with 2,635 feet of climbing
Best thing that happened - I had a good ride and took some strong pulls (letting people draft off of you - at one time I had a train of 6-8 people following me. I almost felt like a real cyclist for a second!)

Day 6:
Matt drives again (because he blew up the day before)
Rainy
Best thing that happened - being done with the ride. The weather was crappy and I finally blew up and was unable to keep up with the guys. We went to some crazy bars, I got Iced twice...about 30 seconds apart. It was a good ending to a crap day.

Day 7:
I drive again since I blew up the day before
47.5 miles
2,591 feet of climb (I guess there were some killer hills on this day
Best thing that happened - being finished and saying goodbye to a new group of friends. Matt and I stayed with Emily and her parents that night at their house near Des Moines. We got to clean up in a real shower, ate a ton of awesome food, and I Iced Matt (finally).

RAGBRAI was twice as much cycling as I usually do in a week and 100 times more drinking than I usually do in a year. We also had lots of, "fellowship," as Larry liked to call it, which was basically just us eating at a restaurant and hanging out. Spending all of my time with these guys for an entire week sort of reminded me of being on tour, which was good; I miss that feeling. There were plenty of other crazy and cool things that happened, but if you want to hear about them you'll have to drop by for a chat or give me a call.

2010 Season

2010-03-08T16:23:00.000-08:00

Inspired by Barrett Brandon's new post on his 2010 season. Mine isn't as epic, but it does have two half Iron-distance races 5 weeks apart.

March 13th - Leprechaun Chase 10k road race
April 17th - Novartis run 10k road race
June 5th - Dam to Dam 20k road race
June 20th - CSG sprint triathlon
July 17th - Lake Geode Olympic distance triathlon
August 22nd - Pigman half Iron-distance triathlon
September 25th - Redman half Iron-distance triathlon
November 20th - Living History Farms 7 mile XC race

And for anyone who only keeps up with my life via this blog...join Facebook (Barrett)! ha HA! Kidding. Today I started my first "real" (salary, business casual, benefits) job today. I fought the good fight for 31 years, but I guess it's time to move on.

Also, I have a girlfriend and she's awesome. REALLY awesome. :)

2010 (01-01-10)

2010-01-01T07:41:00.000-08:00

If I’m completely honest, I never thought I’d be updating from Europe, and I’m not just talking about this new year post, but any post in general. Sure, I’d dreamed of living in a foreign country, but who hasn’t? I always thought it was one of those things on my “bucket list” that would just always be there, as a quaint thought in the back of my mind. It’s interesting to think about how completely unexpected nearly everything in my life has been. If you had asked me when I was a senior in high school, I would have told you that I was going to go to college and then grad school to become a psychiatrist. Instead I have an English degree (I didn’t love books then), spent 10 years running around the country and playing music with my best friends (I didn’t play bass then), became a triathlete (I couldn’t actually swim then and had never even heard of a triathlon), and moved to Europe (I had never even thought of living abroad and only very rarely thought of traveling). There have been sacrifices--boy, have there been sacrifices--but I consider myself quite lucky. So what’s the message here? Don’t make plans? All of life is an unexpected adventure? I don’t know; I don’t have the answers. I just think it’s amazing where my life has taken me and almost shudder to think how differently my life would have been had I skipped touring for grad school and rushed into a full time job.

2009 was a very turbulent year in the already crazy life I had created. Maybe turbulent isn’t the right word, but a lot of big stuff happened. I went on two tours and the stressful life of scraping-by and touring finally got the best of me, so I quit the band. Maybe the decision is still too fresh, or it’s too early to tell in the grand scheme of things, but that might be the only decision I’ve ever made that I really regret. I knew that if we couldn’t “make it,” at least to the point of being able to support ourselves, then it would have to end some day. I know we had some small success, were able to tour the entire country multiple times, and sell records in Japan, so I should feel good about that, but there’s going to always be a part of me that wishes it could have gone on forever. I ran my first marathon, which I trained for nearly all year. I moved to Hungary, which has been hard, but good for me.

For whatever reason, I think 2010 is going to be a good year. I’m actually looking forward to a little normalcy. I’ll get to come home. I’ll get to see my friends. I might be able to get a really good job. It would be nice to finally start digging myself out of debt, have health insurance, and be able to do little things like buy my family Christmas presents (which hasn’t happened for a number of years). I’ll spend a lot of time swimming, biking, running, and reading. I’ll probably train for another marathon and half Ironman (I hope to do my first Ironman in 2011). I don’t usually get this way with the new year, but I feel like 2010 has a lot of potential, and I’m making plans to make it great so that it doesn’t pale in comparison to the last 10 years that I’ve spent having the best time in my life with my best friends.

Krakow (Photos)

2010-01-01T04:26:00.000-08:00

Krakow (Part 2)

2010-01-01T04:11:00.000-08:00

The alarm goes off at 9 and I’m probably still a little drunk. We drag ourselves downstairs to eat the free breakfast, which is far better than any free hotel breakfast I’ve had in the states, and includes scrambled eggs and ham. Unfortunately, we have to choke down our food because neither of us are feeling that great. Now aware of where we actually are, we walk the few kilometers to the city center and find the bus station. We buy tickets to the town of Oswiecim and get on the bus. The trip takes about an hour and a half, and because of our crazy night and lack of sleep, neither one of us have a very comfortable ride. I have the same initial experience with Auschwitz that I had when I went to the Alamo--I’m completely confused at how it exists in a town. I always imagined it would be located in a barren field somewhere far from civilization, but there is a town living in the shadow of this monument to horror; there is a mall within walking distance from the gates.

There’s not much that I could tell you about this place that you’re not already aware of. In addition, there’s no way to describe the gravity of that place--the way it has the ability to make your heart so heavy and pile more weight than you think you can handle upon your shoulder--so I won’t even try. The one thing I noticed that I wasn’t expecting is that it isn’t ugly; the grass was green, there were birds singing in trees, the buildings don’t look terrifying (from the outside). I had almost assumed that the things that happened there would have had a Chernobyl-type effect on the land. Anyway, we walked around and through the buildings, many of which have been turned into sort of a museum. It was nearly 3:00 by the time we left, which meant we didn’t have time to go down the road to Birkenau. I am told that it is even more gruesome, and that children under the age of 14 aren’t allowed to visit that site. It’s probably a good thing that we couldn’t go, because I don’t know how much more either one of us could handle.

We’re pretty quiet the entire ride back to Krakow. We get to town and go find a polish restaurant for some food. It has a log cabin feel, with a stone hearth and blazing fire in the main room, as well as some delicious food. Full and warm we walk back to our hotel to shower and nap again. We head back into town and meet up with some more people from CouchSurfing. Zenia, who is a first generation Pole from Chicago, and her friends Matt from London and Echo from China. They take us to a techno dance club that is too loud. JM and I don’t feel like drinking because of the last two nights, so we sip sodas. Echo has some crazy stories, when you can hear her, but Zenia and Matt are more interested in making out. We hang out until about midnight and then call it a night.

There are couple of inches of snow on the ground when we wake up. Our free breakfast is delicious this time around, and we’re feeling pretty good about the trip, overall. We get packed up, check out, and head back to the main market square. We walk around for a little bit and then start making our way to the bus station, determined to get it right this time. There’s a giant, four-story mall on the way, so we walk through. It’s packed with people and looks like any other mall. We get on the bus and watch two year old movies overdubbed in Hungarian, but with English subtitles. After nearly eight hours on the bus, we finally make it back to the apartment. The really strange thing about taking a trip from Budapest was that the whole time I kept thinking that when the trip was over I should be going home, but instead I knew that I would be going back to Budapest. Still, it was a great trip. Next up is Rome, tentatively planned for late February.

Krakow (Part 1)

2009-12-31T14:31:00.000-08:00

The trip started out a wreck, as do most things that JM and I do together. We got up at 4:30, after less than 5 hours of sleep, ate a quick breakfast, and headed out the door. We walked to the metro, took the red line two stops, changed to the blue line, took the blue line 6 stops, and got off the metro. The travel agent said we need to go to the bus station once we get off the metro at this stop, so we walk upstairs to look for the bus station. The stairs open into a huge, bright building lined with benches--the bus station. It’s surrounded by huge charter buses, so it looks like we’ll be riding in style. Way too easy. We look on the board and see our bus leaves at 6:15 instead of 6:00, so we sit down and close our eyes for a bit, since we’re about half an hour early. The bus finally pulls up and we wait in line to get on. As I walk onto the bus, I had my ticket to the driver, who is checking the tickets, and he says something in Hungarian. “I’m sorry?” I say. “Wrong bus line. You want one by stadium,” he replies, and points across the street. Dammit! I step off the bus and we look across the street to see, what is probably our bus, driving away. We go underground and across the street anyway. We come up the stairs to a dark street corner. The building that is the other “bus station” isn’t open. It’s not lit. There are no buses around. We stand confused for a few minutes until another bus pulls up. People suddenly pile out of cars and appear from the shadows, and board the bus. We are now sure that we missed our bus. We head back home and decide to straighten it out after a little more sleep.

When we get up JM calls the bus line, only to find out that there isn’t another bus going to Krakow for 3 days. He walks about half a mile to the train station near our place and books us on the night train to Krakow. We have a small lunch, nap a little, have dinner, and then, to prepare for the long train ride and to help wash the morning away, we kill a bottle of Johnnie Walker. We get to the train station nearly an hour early (we’re not taking any chances) and the alcohol has definitely kicked in. A homeless man hassles JM for a cigarette and some money. Being drunk, JM isn’t in the mood for speaking Hungarian, so he replies in English. We’re drunk, so for some reason we get a kick out of the pantomiming and five-or-so English words this guy knows. Anytime he says a Hungarian word that reminds me of an English word, I start talking to him about it in English. A girl standing near us can understand both sides of the conversation and can’t stop laughing. JM gives the guy a cigarette and 300 forint, and we get on the train. Already round two is getting off to a better start, or at least the alcohol makes it seem that way. We chat with the Aussies a couple doors down from us for a bit, and then settle into our little bunks. I must say, a train isn’t a terrible way to travel overnight, if you get to lay down. The bunks were actually more comfortable than my “bed” in Budapest, which says nothing about the comfort of the train and EVERYTHING about how uncomfortable my bed is. We both sleep fitfully¾nodding off when the train is rolling and waking up when it jars to a stop at the stations.

We get to Krakow just after 6:30 in the morning. We magically pick the right direction to walk from the train station and end up in the huge market square in the city center. It’s an interesting and unique experience to be walking the streets of a new city as the sun is coming up, and before most of the people who actually live there are out and about. We walk around the square and window-shop. We check out St. Mary’s Basilica, which is in one corner of the square. We take a small side street away from the square and come to a big park. We learn that the wide green space circles the entire city center, and is where the main wall used to stand. We walk back into the center and find a little café that is open early (7:30. Everything else opens at 9) and go in for cappuccino. Warm and awake, we head back out to start taking everything in. We hit up all the usual tourist stuff (the market square, the city center, the churches, the statues in the green space). We find a little restaurant and eat brunch (potato pancakes and goulash). We walk up the hill to see the castle and it’s church. There’s a massive marble courtyard in the middle. We walk down the hill to the Dragon’s Den. We walk along the river. I’m not going to go into much detail since I have pictures and this post is going to be massive already.

At this point it’s late enough in the afternoon that we can check into our hotel. It’s only supposed to be 4 kilometers from the city center, so we decide to walk it. JM has directions and after about 15 minutes of walking, we situate ourselves enough to head to the street we need. We walk for about 45 minutes and end up where the Google directions sent us. Unfortunately, our hotel is not there. We ask around and most people just give us confused looks. We sort of get directions from a guy who doesn’t speak any English. He writes down a new street name, so we feel like we’re back on track. We think he says that it’s just down the road about 800 meters. We get there and not only is there no hotel, but the street that he has written down for us isn’t there either. We walk around for a bit and still can’t figure it out. We find another guy who roughly tells us that we have to take the bus, but we think we should be close and he doesn’t seem too sure about it, so we walk around some more. We cover the entire neighborhood one more time before we ask another lady. She doesn’t speak English at all, but gives us very specific directions to go straight two stoplights and then go right. We walk in that direction and finally come to a part of town that looks like it might actually have a hotel. We see a taxi, give up, and get in. He drives us directly to our hotel…on the other side of the city center! The directions Google maps gave us were at least 10-15 kilometers off. After nearly 2 hours of walking, we’ve made it.

Finally at our hotel we spend a little time taking naps or showers. We kill just a couple hours there before we head out to meet up with Ewa (Eva, for all you Americans). We met her through CouchSurfing.com. She seemed very nice, invited us to dinner at her place, and said we could hang out with her and her two friends who were in town. We get there and she tells us to make ourselves at home. Already the beautiful little apartment smells like delicious food. We chat for just a few minutes before her other two friends show up; Andre from Romania, and Karolina who is from Krakow originally but lives in London. We start in on one of the four bottles of wine (we all brought some) and jump right into the conversation. Ewa is finishing preparing the meal, Karolina makes a salad and then makes birds out of the napkins for the table. After dinner we finish off all the wine and catch the last tram to the Jewish district. Ewa takes us to a bar, which I believe was called the Singer or Singers. I don’t remember exactly, but most of the tables were made out of old Singer sewing machines. It was a cool little place and was pretty mellow when we got there. They bought us hot beer, a shot of some special Polish drink that was absolutely toxic, hot honey wine, more hot beer… By our second drinks (third if you include the shot, sixth or seventh if you include the wine), there was a drunk couple attempting to dance in the middle of the bar. They were barely doing a good job of even standing up, but no one seemed to be bothered by them at all. In fact, everyone there seemed to just be having a great time. We had been drinking a lot and went from zero to drunk pretty quickly. The next thing I know, most of the people in the bar are dancing, including our group. At one point, Ewa and Karolina even end up dancing on a table. Eventually we leave the bar but I think I left my camera so Andre and I go back in. We search for a few minutes before I find it in my coat pocket. We get back outside and, somehow end up in a cab, and then somehow end up at the hotel. We stumble out, slurring goodbyes, drag ourselves into our hotel room and pass out at nearly 4am.

This is the second time in a few months that I’ve done drunk goodbyes, and I must say I hate it. The same thing happened at my going away party. I got drunk and stumbled out of there to walk home, just like I would at any other party. None of the goodbyes were very heartfelt, and I even forgot a few people because they were passed out or I just didn’t remember they were there. Same thing here, I didn’t get to fully express my gratitude and appreciation for the good time we were shown by these great people, and I regret that a little bit.

This thing is getting pretty long, so I guess the rest of it will have to wait for the next post.

Thermal Baths

2009-12-27T09:09:00.000-08:00

Yesterday JM and I went to the Király Baths. Here's a little history first: Hungary sits on one of the largest resources of geothermal water in the world. Of the approximately 1300 thermal springs registered in Hungary, about 300 are used for "bathing" purposes and about 130 of those are located in Budapest. The Turkish ruler of Buda started building the Király Baths in 1565 (which was finished in 1570), just inside what was then the Castle gates. He wanted to make sure that, in the event of an invasion, the Turks could still bathe. Some of these baths were only for men as recently as 2007, and even now there are only certain days when women are allowed to go.

OK, so here's the story: JM and I decide to have a little relaxation before our trip to Krakow (a little relaxation before our relaxation?). We went to the Király Baths, and as soon as you walk in you can smell the sulfur. We paid at the front desk and went upstairs. Once upstairs you walk into what is essentially a locker room that had sex with a dressing room. The man at the door hands you a "towel" that much more resembles a thick bed sheet in size and thickness, and, what I can only refer to as a "junk apron." This is essentially a thin white piece of cloth about the size of an unfolded napkin, with two very long strings attached at one end, which you use to tie it around your waist; it's a loincloth. Oh, and it's white, so it's pretty much useless as soon as it's wet. We were there on a mens only day, so the entire experience had a very locker room feel.

Anyway, you go into one of the dressing rooms and change into your loincloth. When you come out there is a guy with a bunch of keys. There is one key in the door, which you use to lock the door and then tie to your loincloth, and then he uses a key to lock the other lock to the door and your stuff is safe. We walk through the locker room, making sure to walk exactly side by side so we don't have to see each other's butts (we do still have to live together). We head down a couple flights of spiral stairs, and the entire time the smell of sulfur (from the water) gets stronger. Once at the bottom the air is so thick with it that it's like eating a sulfur/air sandwich. There are showers at the bottom of the stairs, which you must use before you get in the baths. You walk down a short hallway and it opens into a large domed room with a giant octagonal pool in the center.

We went in and sat on the second stair, which let the water come up to my neck. The dome of the room is dotted with small circular windows in a concentric circular pattern. There are a handful of other guys there, most of whom are older gentlemen, but a couple who looked about 40 and one other guy who looked to be in his late 20's. There wasn't much talking going on, and what we did hear was mostly in low voices. After just a short time in the main pool, I realized that the water wasn't really hot, but more like warm bathwater. JM went to test out the other two smaller square pools, located around the edge of the main pool. He dips a foot in the first one, turns around and shakes his head no. He goes to the other one and gets in.

When he returns he says that the first one is cold, and the other one is very hot. I venture over to the hot one. After 10 minutes I come back to the main pool which, in contrast, feels cool now. We sit for a little while longer before JM decides to check out the steam room. This is when stuff gets weird. While he is gone, two guys have gotten quite close. One is laying face-up with his neck on the edge of the pool, almost floating. This was the younger guy. The other guy was at a weird angle to him and I was pretty sure there was some inappropriate touching going on, however, none of the other guys seemed to notice.

Upon JM's return, my suspicions were confirmed. Not only did he say he thought the two guys I saw were up to something fishy, but he said there was some questionable stuff going on in the steam room. Of course, he said the steam room was crazy and I had to check it out. We go in the steam room and it's amazing. I've never been in one before, but it's just oppressively hot and humid. After being in there for about 5 minutes I came to the realization that the water dripping off of my body wasn't because I was just in the pool, but it was because I was sweating profusely. We're in there for maybe 10 minutes before we leave again.

When we come back out, the main room has become a fondle-fest. The two guys from before have moved to the other side of the pool and one is unabashedly fondling the other one. There is a group of three older men, two sitting against the side facing the middle of the pool, the other standing between them facing the edge of the pool; he's fondling both of them at the same time. When one of them leaves, another guy floats up to the other two and starts very gently stroking the face of one of the men, while positioning himself for some of the action. I'm sure I was wide-eyed, because I wasn't expecting this. Sure, I had steeled myself against seeing old, flabby men in nothing but a loincloth. I had also steeled myself against the guy doing a weird naked spa workout, and sure enough, there was one. I had not, however, expected blatant sex acts in the middle of a public bath. There were only a couple of other guys in there who seemed to be caught off guard as well. We decide to call it a day.

That was by far the craziest thing that has happened in Budapest. While searching for the information in the first paragraph, I found many reviews of the baths, most of which had something or other about the Király Baths being "the gay one." Now you know. In two hours we leave for Krakow to explore a new city for a few days and meet up with some random internet people. I'll be back in a few days with my blog on the trip.

Christmas Market

2009-12-16T08:31:00.000-08:00

I had a pretty good weekend; I got a job offer, a phone call from my mom and grandma, and I finally made it to the Christmas market. Yesterday I got a Christmas card from my grandma as well. My family will be sad to hear about the job offer because it means that I can afford to stay here until June. It will be nice to be able to afford to do a little traveling. Krakow in a week, and (tentatively) Rome in February and Geneva in April. However, I just found out we're only a train ride from the area of Romania know as Transylvania. That's right, just 500 kilometers from Dracula's castle. I think that calls for a weekend trip for sure. I mean, this is the real deal, not that "Twilight" B.S. Anyway, it was nice to talk to mom and grandma. It's difficult being away for the holidays, so it's nice to hear some familiar voices and get caught up with how the family is doing.

From what I understand, there are a couple of different Christmas markets in Budapest, but I went to one of the bigger ones at Vörösmarty tér. There are a bunch (50-75) of little log booths set up in a huge square in the middle of the shopping district. Some are serving foods, such as meats, vegetables, hot wine, baked goods, etc. It smells like a delicious version of the state fair. Others are selling various hand-made wares, such as dolls, wooden chess sets, metal ornaments and candle holders (made on-site by a real-life burly blacksmith), pottery, glassware, etc. It is quite a neat experience, but I can't help but feel that it's at least partially a show put on for tourists.

We finally got snow here today. To be fair, there were flurries the other day, but they didn't stick. Today we got maybe a quarter to half inch. By late afternoon it had mostly melted from the streets and sidewalks though. It's finally getting cold here (below zero degrees Celsius), but I'm getting conflicting stories on what to expect of the weather. Some people tell me that in recent years it hasn't snowed that much, others tell me that they've heard we're in for a lot more snow this winter. Weather here is a guessing game, just like anywhere else in the world. I guess some things never change. I don't start my job until the new year. 2010. I can hardly believe it. It seems so futuristic every time I say it. Anyway, JM and I will be visiting Krakow soon, so I should have some good stories and pictures from that trip. I hope that wherever this blog post finds you, you are well.

-E

Glimpses

2009-12-14T12:40:00.000-08:00

Today I walked outside into the cool autumn air. The sky was blue and there were thin wisps of clouds sailing by overhead.

There is a guy who lives on our floor by the stairs. Occasionally he’s sitting on a chair outside his door, enjoying a cigarette and a cup of coffee. We always exchange, “hallo’s.” He never smiles.

There’s a gumball machine by the front door of the little corner store down the block from our apartment. I’ve never seen anyone use it.

Sometimes when I’m walking through the city I try to guess if people speak English as their native language, just by looking at them.

Being here has been difficult at times, but it has helped me straighten some things out in my head in a way in which I can’t quite explain.

The Christmas lights along Andrassy Utca are on now and it makes the city seem more warm and inviting. It’s getting cold here, but it doesn’t feel like it. Not having to deal with the wind makes the temperature deceiving.

The streets are narrow and I feel like I’m always in the shade. That’s not a metaphor.

The lady in the apartment next to ours is listening to opera music and doing a fair job at singing along, although at a considerably lower octave.

The city is still not familiar to me, but I don’t feel lost here anymore.

2009-12-03T06:03:00.000-08:00

I went to the National Theatre a couple days ago. It was another wonderful day when I started out, but it seems to always get cloudy, and thus cold, in the early afternoon. The sun sets by about 4 and leaves me longing for the drawn-out days of summer. The weather has been mild, and it still doesn’t feel like winter yet. I’m sure it’s coming. I hear there’s a winter market set up somewhere in town, and I think I’ll go look for it sometime soon. But I digress. The National Theatre has some crazy architecture. It looks almost as though the entire building is sitting on a boat in the water and the water spills over the edges. The edges start by the building, as if it’s the base of a triangle, and meet at a point in front of the boat. The cool thing about this is that the water just trickles over the edges near the building, but once you get to the point the water is rushing over the edge and roaring the small lion’s roar of a miniature waterfall transplanted in the middle of this urban jungle. They also kept a wall from the original theatre before they tore it down to build the new one, and it’s laying in the water next to the boat. There are a few statues sporadically dotting the grassy landscape in front of the building as well. Johnmark told me I should go check it out, and I’m glad I did.

Click here to see all the photos

Today I gave my first lesson to a student I picked up to tutor. She’s a senior in high school and is applying to colleges in the US. She speaks English pretty fluently, but mostly wants help with her written grammar and punctuation for her college application essays. She’s cool, and the lesson went well. I made six grand (in forint) for an hour and a half, and actually doing a little “work” left me feeling productive for the rest of the day. I might get to tutor her mom as well, so things are definitely looking up on the job front. JM and I decided to celebrate by getting groceries and eating crazy Hungarian food. I tried some lo kolbasz (horse sausage). Yeah, you read that right, horse sausage. It tasted like…sausage. Surprise!

Cheers!
-E

Chat

2009-11-29T07:06:00.000-08:00

The other day I was talking to a friend online. I said I was, “hanging in there,” when asked how I was doing, and she asked why. When I explained my situation of not having a job because I got here too late and all the teaching positions were already filled, and that I am living on savings, she seemed concerned, but I told her I wasn’t too worried about it. That I was rolling with the punches. She called me crazy for not being worried, and I think she legitimately meant it. She told me not to spend my ticket money because that would be tragic. I confessed that I don’t actually have the money to buy a ticket home and that I’ll have to wait for my US tax return before I can come back. She replied with, “I hope you learned a lesson.” She logged off before I got a chance to ask her how she meant that or to reply to it. I think that statement makes a lot of assumptions about the state in which I’m living. I feel like the only mistake that I made was not securing a job instead of just interviews before I moved, but I‘m not even sure that was a mistake. I don’t think I’ve screwed up. I’m not stuck in Europe with no money and no way to get home. I’m not going to have to call home in a state of distress and ask my mom to bail me out and get me a ticket so I can come back. I have enough money to live on, although I do have to live frugally, but that’s something that I’m used to. I can’t come home immediately, but I will be able to return to the states and I’ll be able to do it by my own means. Life has no guarantees. Had I waited until I had a job, I’d still be in Nebraska and probably would have never lived in Europe. I’m not going to go home and regret this experience, even if I never get a job, have to go home earlier than expected, and use all of the money I have in the process. This is probably a once in a lifetime chance for me and, had I not jumped at the opportunity, I would have missed it. Oddly enough, instead of making me worried about my decision, it only reinforced it. It made me realize how lucky I am to have this opportunity, even if things aren’t going as planned because, what does go as planned, really?

Euro Thanksgiving

2009-11-29T05:35:00.001-08:00

Thursday was Thanksgiving in America - here everything went on as usual. I decided to fill my day with a trip to Gellert Hill. I’m pretty sure the hill is one of the highest points in Budapest, and it’s famous for a couple of reasons, most notably the death of Saint Gerard. Saint Gerard was killed there by pagans during the great pagan rebellion, which I believe was in 1046. There are two versions of the story; one is that he was thrown down the hill and then, being found still alive, was beaten to death. The other version is that he was PLACED IN A BARREL WITH SPIKES AND ROLLED DOWN THE HILL! That’s awesome, in the crazy and disturbing sense of the word. Anyway, there’s a statue of him on the side of the hill. Another thing the Gellert Hill is famous for is the Liberty Statue on the top of the hill. The statue was placed there to commemorate the Soviet liberation of Hungary from the Nazis during WWII. The statue is still there, but the Russian soldiers were removed from the base of the statue after the Hungarians transitioned from Communist rule to a more Democratic form of government.

Gellert Hill is quite steep and is crisscrossed with trails - switchbacks that lead up to the statue on the side of the hill and eventually to the Liberty Statue on the top. You can go right up to the statue of Saint Gerard, but since it faces away from the hill towards the Danube, the view isn’t that much better once you’re there. In fact, the best view of the statue is probably from the Bridge in front of the statue. I trudged up to the top to see the Liberty Statue and get a great view of the city. I knew Budapest was big, but was surprised when I got a good look at the Buda side for the first time and realized how far it stretched out. Something that struck me as interesting is the fact that there are no skyscrapers in this big city. The tallest buildings here are probably about 10 stories tall. I guess when you don’t stack people on top of one another, a city must become sprawling by necessity. Anyway, it made me feel just a little smaller to realize that the city in which I now live is twice as big as I thought it was.

Saint Gerard

the Liberty Statue

View of the Buda side.

View of the Pest side,

Last night we had, “orphan Thanksgiving.” We got together with a small group of Americans who are currently either living or studying in Budapest, and we had a wonderful dinner. Everyone brought a dish (or two) and a bottle of wine. All of the food was delicious and I had a good time sitting around and chatting with everyone. I really am thankful for this experience - not only for the opportunity to be living in and experiencing Europe, but also for the experience of getting to have a “Thanksgiving” with some good people. The actual holiday passed with barely a notice but it wasn’t until sitting down to dinner last night that I realized that, even though the holiday snuck by me, it still managed to leave a small void that needed to be filled. The wonderful food and great conversations definitely did just that. I hope the same can be said for all of you. Take care of yourself and each other.

Cheers!

Simple and honest.

2009-11-14T14:41:00.000-08:00

Thursday I found my way to the huge cemetery that’s about 2 kilometers from our place. I do not consider myself a photographer by any means, but everything about that day came together so perfectly that I could hardly take a bad picture. It’s a strange feeling to walk through a graveyard as a tourist - not being there to mourn or remember, but just simply to stand in awe of the sadness and the beauty of the gravestones and the breathtaking monuments. The sun rolled in and out from behind the clouds as the leaves shuffled and crinkled beneath my feet. Fall has dipped the leaves in reds and golds, and softly blanketed the ground and gravestones with the ones that were dry, leaving the ones that were still wet hanging out to dry. This, more than any other thing since I’ve been here, reminded me of home. The cemetery is enormous, and parts of it feel as though you’ve stepped out of the city and into the woods - with more trees and overgrowth than gravestones. Here are just a few of the pictures:

Friday I had a job interview. I had directions to where I was going, but somehow I missed a street and ended up getting a little lost. The big problem was that the street I was looking for didn’t go through to the other major streets and was only two blocks long before the name changed. I ended up pretty much walking in circles around the periphery of where I needed to be. I finally used my very limited Hungarian to ask a doorman if he spoke English and then asked him where the street was. I was nearly a half an hour late to the interview, but the guys were very understanding.

That night we went to the ballet at the Hungarian State Opera House with a huge group of people. We were in the cheap seats, which wouldn’t have been that bad if we had been in the center, but we were off to the side where we could only see about 70% of the stage. I don’t know enough about ballet to speak definitively, but it seemed pretty “modern.” It was quite interesting and beautiful, but the best part was that, even though we were in the highest seats, we were still close enough to see that the performers were breathing heavily. I think it’s impressive that they can make such precise movements look so fluid and easy when they are actually working that hard.

Today JM and I went to a friend’s house to help him film a video for an internet contest. He’s a great mandola player and we ended up recording a song for the video. Levi played mandola, JM played mandolin, and I played bass. The video is pretty funny but being able to play bass for a couple of hours was the best way to spend an afternoon. Playing felt like home - like waking up in my own bed and knowing my way around the streets. It felt like slipping on my favorite hoodie. It felt good.

On our way home we stopped a vegetarian Humus restaurant. I had a huge plate of…stuff. I’m not sure what most of it was, but I do know that I had falafel for the first time in my life and it was pretty delicious. Their humus was really good too and I’m pretty sure they make their own pita bread. Tasty.

Tomorrow I plan on going to Margit island if it’s nice out. If I’m lucky a lovely girl might take me to her gym during “family” hour so I can do a swim workout. I haven’t done a workout of any kind since the marathon a month ago. This may be a new record for me and, consequently, I’m going a little stir crazy. At this point I honestly don’t know if I’m more excited about being able to workout or about getting to go with this very sweet girl. There’s also a good chance that this won’t happen, so I’m trying not to get my hopes up.

JM and I are going to have dinner at the Café in The New York Palace on Tuesday. Fancy. Other than that, I don’t have any plans for this week. You can be sure that I’ll be reading and writing, as always. I should probably find some other cool stuff to explore in Budapest too. We really need to decide where we’re going on our trip next month. I think Oslo would be cool, but we might end up in Belgrade because it’s close. We’ll see. I’ll keep you up to speed.

Cheers!

-E

Fall

2009-11-11T09:22:00.000-08:00

To be honest, there are good days - days when I barely think of home unless I'm reminded by something or someone - and bad days, during which I waste my idle time by daydreaming of home and attempting to plan the future I might want to carve out for myself when I return. A friend of JM's sent us a bunch of photographs she took of Nebraska. I know that this is a great experience, and the fact that I get to share it with one of my best friends only makes it that much better, but on days like today - days when it is overcast and the rain spits and mists incessantly - I can't help but stare at these photos of trees exploding firecracker red and gold to celebrate the coming of fall. I can't help but stare and feel a little jealous. We're going to cover one wall in the apartment with the pictures; a sort of shrine to "The Good Life."

Last weekend we hung out with a group of awesome (and crazy - "of course we have weed!") Romanians and a few Hungarians. I met a guy named Zoltan. Seriously. I tried Palinka which, as far as I can tell after drinking it, is probably Hungarian for jet fuel. We took the bus without paying. We drank. We played some guitar. Sebe tried to get us to move from the kitchen to the living room, where there was more room for everyone to sit and hang out. I didn't know how to tell him that standing in a kitchen and drinking with people made it feel like home. Luckily, no one paid any attention to him. We hung out. We drank. Sebe wouldn't let me pay him for the alcohol JM and I drank; he's a good guy. We walked home. Could have mistaken it for a good night in Lincoln.

As for the rest of this week: tomorrow I'm going to walk to either the National Museum or the huge cemetery near our place. JM and I, along with a large group of people, are going to the ballet this Friday. Here is the link to what we're going to see: http://www.xpatloop.com/news/62876. Luckily I've already read the book, so I'll have a better sense of what's going on (hopefully). This weekend it's supposed to be sunny and sort of warm, so I think I'm finally going to check out Margit Island (where I'll be doing most of my running once I'm all healed up). Everything else is up in the air, as it always is.

Des Moines Marathon Race Report (Warning: this is nearly as long as the race itself)

2009-10-31T03:44:00.000-07:00

I awake before sunrise after a fitful night of sleep. At this point the opportunity to get up is a relief. I’m not prone to nervousness but, in spite of the fact that this has never actually happened to me, I’m always worried I’ll sleep through my alarm on race day. Consequently, I repeatedly awake with a start, like a kid nodding off in his 7:30am entry-level college Economics class because it’s just so damn early in the morning and, admittedly, Economics is just so damn boring. Since this is always the case, the lack of good sleep causes me no concern. Running my first marathon promises to fill me with enough nervous excitement and adrenaline that if I could bottle it I could give Starbucks a run for their money in the business of keeping awake college students stuck in 7:30am entry-level Economics classes.

Without stepping out of my hotel room I know that it is just under 40° and slightly windy. I had committed the hourly weather report to memory before going to sleep. It’s cold, so I pull on some layers of clothes and my shoes and head out for an easy jog to raise my body temperature and “get the plumbing working.” My jog is more of a shuffle. The city is still quietly wrapped in dark and stars. I jog the three blocks to the start line, where my excruciating journey will begin in just a few short hours. The only people out are those unlucky volunteers who are constructing the Start and Finish lines and setting up the fencing. It’s hard to imagine these streets filled with over 6,000 participants, not to mention their friends and families who will be there to cheer them on. Looking back on it now, I never got to enjoy the happy crowd of lunatics who tackle the marathon with me that day. Honestly, I lined up at the front and between the start and when I left the finish area, I probably didn’t see more than a couple hundred runners. There’s a good chance I saw that many volunteers that day. Strange.

I shuffle a few more blocks and head back to the hotel. The entire jog takes me about 15 minutes - just enough time to get me feeling a little warm. I go back inside and have a cup of coffee and breakfast; nothing special, just exactly what I’ve been eating before all of my long runs for the last two months. The routine comforts me, but I know there is still a lot of time before the race and that I won’t get through this morning without at least a few pre-race jitters. As I mentioned above, I’m not prone to nervousness, but this will be the first time I force my body to run this distance, and I’m attempting to do it in 3 hours no less. Many people think the Boston qualifying time of 3:10 is tough enough and many more people think 3 hours is crazy. They’re right, but I didn’t sign up to do this because I thought it would be fun. I did it for the challenge. Hell, I could walk the damn thing and say I did a marathon, but that won’t tell me anything about myself.

I eat with my thoughts. I turn on the TV to drown out the thoughts. Now I’m eating with my thoughts and the news, but I don’t manage to catch any of the stories. I finish breakfast and try to relax for a bit. I flip through the channels. I go to the bathroom. I peel off my layers and put on my race outfit. I go to the bathroom. I drink some water. I grab arm warmers and gloves, knowing it’s too cold for just shorts and a singlet. I put on a few layers and head out for an honest warm-up, but since there’s plenty of time during a marathon this warm-up is a jog - one step up from the shuffle of an hour and a half ago. The sun is up now and, despite the increasing wind, gives the illusion of warmth. I come back, drink some water, and go to the bathroom. I head out for the Start line.

I get to the Start line and go through my warm-up routine: strides, butt-kicks, high knees, some light stretching. I drop my layers and go to line to search for the 3:00 pace group. I introduce myself to the pace leader and wait nervously for the gun to go off. This is the worst part. Months of training being smothered by anticipation. Suffocated. I’m gasping for the freedom to just start running. Someone sings the Star Spangled Banner. I’m not sure if she does a good job. I bounce nervously in place. They start the wheelchair athletes. I turn around and see nothing but heads. Somewhere behind me are over 6,000 people, but I can only see the few hundred around me. Finally, “runners, take your marks.” Finally, the gun.

At the front of the race, the pack thins out rather quickly. We go through the first mile in 6:30. This is 20 seconds faster than goal pace. I look at the pacer. He looks at his watch. He shrugs.

“I always do that.”

“Sorry.”

Granted, I would have done that if I where trying to pace this thing on my own, but that’s why I was with the group. So it goes. By mile 2 the pack has already thinned out. At mile 4 the runners doing the half marathon branch off onto their course. By this time the 3 hour group is larger than I thought it would be with about 40 of us running together. The course gets hilly. Mostly rolling hills with a couple long gradual inclines. These are the types of hills I like. There is one hill in a tree-lined residential area that is about 300 meters long and what feels like straight up. This type of hill I could do without. The route is mostly through residential areas, with shafts of sun stabbing through the already golden autumn leaves and people dotting front yards to cheer us on. The miles roll by easily at this point. Some of the guys in the group talk to each other. I crack a nervous joke early, but save my energy. Even though I’ve never run a marathon before, I know this race actually starts somewhere around mile 20.

I’m aware of very little. I notice my breathing. I hear the marching of our feet. We’re an army and we’ve come to take your marathon in under 3 hours. We won’t take no for an answer. I’m aware of what I perceive my effort to be. I notice my breathing. Anything not happening to me is none of my concern. The cheering crowds of people aren’t much more than 10 feet from us on either side, but they seem far away and their cheers come muffled. From the other side of a wall, maybe. Or through a pillow. We hit mile 9 and I’m nudged back to reality. I know this is the end of the hills and I tell myself it’s all easy from here. I have no idea, but it seems like a good thing to tell myself at the time

More miles roll by. We run through the halfway point in 1:29:43. Perfect. I feel fine but we’re only halfway done. I don’t let myself start counting down the miles yet. I know it’s too soon.

“We’re going to start shooting for 6:45s.”

I don’t ask questions. He’s the pacer. He ran this race in 2:58 last year, so he’s the boss. Probably he’s working on getting us a bit of a cushion of time to prepare for the almost certain slowdown that will happen in the last few miles. The group is down to about 30.

We run 6:22. We run 6:42. At mile 15 I start to hurt. It starts to get hard. My breathing still hasn’t increased, but my legs know the cost of running 15 miles at 6:50 pace. I worry a little. It’s too early. There are still 11 miles to go. We run 6:43. We go up a small hill, something I would never have considered a hill until now, and it hurts. We run 6:40. My breathing is labored now. We pass through an aid station and I slow just a bit to grab a cup of Gatorade and make sure it ends up in my mouth instead of on my face, but when I drop my cup and try to catch back up to the group, which is now around 20 guys or less, I just can’t go any faster. I run 7:13

Suddenly it all begins to unravel. I feel every step. I’m now aware of all of the bones in my feet. I start to learn how many muscles are in the thigh and begin to feel them individually on every impact. My calves begin to whittle themselves into knots of wood. They spasm and jump under my skin. I have to stop to stretch them. While I’m doing this, the volunteers at the aid station as if I need anything.

“Yeah, to be done.”

But I’m not, so I keep going. I run 8:04. I try to tell myself that I maybe my legs will come around and I’ll still be able to do this. I force to go faster. I run 7:47, but every inch of that mile hurts. There are still 5 miles left, but my race is over. I run 8:15. My calves spasm again and once again I have to stop and stretch. I run 8:39.

I’m hemorrhaging. I’m bleeding precious seconds all over this course, but it’s at this point that I realize that if I can push through these last 3 miles that I can still run under 3:10 and qualify for the Boston marathon - the last race in the US that you still have to qualify for outside of the Olympic trials. I run 8:15. I run 8:24. The 3:10 pace group catches me. They encourage me.

“Come with us.”

I want to, but my legs won’t respond. I manage to run 8:03. I can see the Finish line. I know it’s going to be close. I force myself to try to sprint, but I don’t know how much faster that actually is. I can read the clock above the Finish line. It’s counting up, but as far as I’m concerned it’s counting down. If it reaches 3:10 before I get there, my race has blown up. I run harder. I wince at every step. I cross in 3:09:44. My legs buckle and someone catches me as someone else puts a medal around my head. The medal hits my chest with a dull thud and I’m surprised of the weight of it. I remember thinking that I’m glad that it’s so substantial because of what I just went through, but I’m not sure it’s quite enough. I hobble, with the help of a volunteer, to the massage tent. They work on my calves. I don’t want to get up.

I drag myself out of the tent and get my clothes. It’s sunny and considerably warmer than when we started over 3 hours ago, but I’m suddenly freezing. I go to the food tables and engulf anything that sounds good. I’m starving. I eat as much as I can for 5 minutes and grab more food to take back to the hotel. I don’t know what it looks like, but I’m sure my walk is ugly. I know it’s deformed. I try to hobble in such a way that causes no pain, but everything causes pain, so I try to hobble in such a way as to cause as little pain as possible. It’s not possible. It’s all pain. It takes me probably close to 15 minutes to walk the 3 blocks to the hotel. I sit down and feel like I could stay there all day, but the hotel refused to give me late checkout. I sit wondering why anyone would run 26.2 miles at once. Ever. I sit until the last possible minute, throw my stuff in my backpack, and checkout.

This is (almost) exactly how it happened.

2009-10-30T02:00:00.000-07:00

This morning before I went to Pertu, the coffee shop near our apartment on Dob Utca, I listened to the new JVA demos. They’re amazing. The longing to be a part of that tore straight to my gut, but not the easy way - through my torso - oh no. It ripped my head off and ate through my heart before turning into a whale in the fishbowl of my stomach. I know I can’t make it through a second listen so I drag myself to the coffee shop. Pertu has become home base in a sense. I go daily in an attempt to make friends with the baristas. I want friendly faces. I want someone who recognizes my face and the smile that comes with that acknowledgement, even if it is only an empty pleasantry. Even if it’s not warm with honest emotion.

I set up shop in the upstairs corner and turn on my computer. The internet is a small refuge from my alien surroundings. I read up on my friend’s lives. I fill in the details as only one with intimate knowledge of the people and places can do. Today, however, the internet has turned on me. My inbox brings only bad news. There’s a rejection letter from a freelance writing company. There are emails from English language schools telling me I’m too late. They’ve already filled all of their positions. I tell myself it’s not that bad.

I’m the worst kind of liar. I’m lying to someone who already knows the truth. There’s no comfort in these empty words. I don’t mention it to Johnmark until we get ready to leave. He tells me the same things I’ve been telling myself.

We leave Pertu and hop on the tram. We take it to the other side of the Danube river where we begin walking up the hill. We’re going to Buda castle. It’s on the top of the hill which, admittedly, is a good place to put a castle. We walk up hills through narrow, winding streets. The buildings are packed so efficiently together that, while looking down the road, sometimes only the color of the paint can be used to distinguish one building from the next as there is barely enough room between them to create shadows or even the illusion of space. We climb stairs. Lots of stairs, until finally we reach the castle walls. We spend the afternoon walking. We take in the view of the entire city from the castle walls. I feel bigger and wonder at how such a large city can suddenly look so much smaller. I think of how small home would look if it were nestled on the other side of the river. I think of how small home would look if I could see it now, where it currently sits, from this distance on this hill. Suddenly the city re-inflates and I feel tiny again.

We see the palace. We see small shops and statues of war heroes. We walk down the hill and across the Chain Bridge. We walk to St. Stephen’s Basilica. Europe is not lacking in ornate churches, to say the least, but the enormity of this one radiates an effect that can be felt from blocks away, before the entire building is even in sight. Even if you’re someone who loathes organized religion, the awe felt when you enter the church will steal away your breath leaving you nothing with which to even whisper a single bad word about it. There’s no proper way to describe it and even showing someone a picture of the inside wouldn’t transmit the feeling of being there. It would be like if someone asked you if there were in love and you tried to show them a picture of love and ask them if that’s how they felt.

On our way home we realize that, not only do we have no groceries waiting for us, but we only had a pastry for lunch and the afternoon of walking has left us starving. We decide to stop in a small Hungarian restaurant. We sit down, open our menus, and I’m a child again. I make out one word, the Hungarian word for spinach. I turn my menu towards Johnmark and ask him for help. He starts reading through it without complaint but I decide on the first thing that sounds remotely like something I would want to eat. I don’t want to be a burden. I end up with beef cooked with red wine and mashed potatoes. The food is cheap and delicious.

We get back to the apartment and I lay down for a quick nap. Johnmark inadvertently falls asleep with his head on his crossed arms on the table. We are wiped out. We wake up and have a light snack. We head out to Nona’s apartment. Nona is from Ohio and is studying Environmental Studies at an English language college in Budapest. She’s having people over for Hungarian hot wine. There will be people from here school there. It’s an English speaking party of sorts. It’s nice to meet people who I can just talk to. I feel like I spend all of my time outside of the apartment just listening. I only talk to Johnmark.

We meet a guy from Portugal and his girlfriend, who is from California. There are two girls who are roommates, one from New Zealand and the other from England. There’s a Hungarian girl. There’s a guy from Zimbabwe by way of Australia. I couldn’t even imagine a group like that getting together in the US, except for maybe on a college campus somewhere. Everyone has traveled so much. I feel inexperienced and undereducated. We all share amazing stories. We talk about crazy clubs and about racism alike. We talk about theatre and maternity leave. We talk about governments. Almost no one has anything good to say about governments. The Americans try to explain fraternities and sororities. We laugh and joke. I marvel at how different we all are and yet how, when it comes down to it, we’re all the same. Human.

Turned out to be a good day after all.

Hallo from Budapest.

2009-10-24T09:24:00.000-07:00

Other than having to run through the airport to catch my connecting flight in Detroit and having a 10 hour layover in Brussels, my trip over was relatively uneventful. It didn't start to get crazy until I got to Brussels and didn't hear anyone speaking English for hours on end. I spent part of the day sleeping here:

I somehow skipped customs in the Budapest airport. I think that's bad. I was so drained from the day and a half of travel and almost no sleep that I almost didn't recognize Johnmark when I saw him, but was so happy and relieved when I did. This trip is definitely and adventure of epic proportions for me, but having JM around is making it so much easier. Unfortunately he only has a week off from work to get me acclimated and then I'll be spending a little more time on my own. Most likely that time will be spent exploring the city and butchering Hungarian words from my phrasebook. Hopefully I'll get a job soon, but I'll also need to find some things to fill my time. I think it's safe to assume that the main two will be reading and writing...and learning Hungarian.

For everyone who is wondering what it's like being in a foreign country, I must admit it is a bit disorienting to not be able to read anything. I feel awkward and isolated in that sense. On the other hand, probably about half of the people here speak at least a little English, so I can manage better that way. Still, this would be impossible without JM.

We live right near downtown in the middle of the city. Public transportation is available all over, but we can walk pretty much anywhere we need to go. We spent the whole first day walking around and I got to see a lot of cool stuff that I'll explore more in depth when I have the time. However, here are a few pictures of where we went the first day:

Chain Bridge.

The Danube River.

Parliament.

Church 1 block from our house.

Here are two things that I was completely unprepared for:

They drive on the right side of the road.

Just how small our "apartment" (A.K.A. room) is.

OK, I'm too worn out to make this very good or interesting, so I'll stop now. For now it still feels like a vacation. Waiting for reality to set in.

Cheers!

Eric

1 week to race day.

2009-10-11T19:06:00.001-07:00

Not much to say. The days off are driving me crazy, but the days I run I'm feeling really fit. I've done the work, now all I can do is wait to see how it all plays out on race day.

Three days after the race I'll be leaving for Budapest. It's crazy to think that in 10 days I'm moving to Europe. I'm sure the weight of it will hit me somewhere over the ocean and I'll have far too many hours on that plane to think about it all, but for right now I'm just really excited to see Johnmark.

Got to catch up with an old friend (Jess) from college today. Two wonderful hours and I wish we would have had a few more. It was great to see that she's lookin' good and doing really well. We should all be so lucky.

I've decided on the books I'm going to bring with me to Budapest: Moby Dick and Walden.

Honestly, I'm just trying to keep myself preoccupied. The only thing I'm thinking about right now is running a sub-3 hour marathon. Guess I'll just update this after the race.

It's all in the hands of the gods.

2009-09-27T14:13:00.000-07:00

Three weeks from now I will have completed my first full marathon. Hopefully I will have done it in under 3 hours. I've had some workouts in the last few weeks that have let me know the fitness is there; they were also great confidence boosters as well: a 16 mile long run with the last 13 miles at race pace (6:50s), a 22 mile long run with the last 6 miles at race pace, and 10x800 on the track in 2:50 with one lap easy jog active recovery. I've prepared as well as I can, now it's, "all in the hands of the gods," as they say.

In 11 days I'll no longer have a cell phone. In 24 days I'll be on a plane to Europe. In high school I would never have imagined what twists and turns my life would take up to this point. What wonderful surprises they have been. I made it through college, somehow became a bass player, made some of the best friends in the world and then spent years making music and touring with them. I've been just getting by, but I've never felt poor. I became an endurance athlete - first a runner and then a triathlete. I've never had a "real" job. I look back on all of these things and smile. Now I'm moving to Budapest with one of my best friends. I can only shake my head and wonder what the future will bring. Although this isn't the path that most people take, I feel like I'm doing it right.

T-36 days to liftoff.

2009-09-15T20:49:00.000-07:00

With this one way plane ticket in my hand, I know there's no turning back. I'm starting to count down the days. I stare at empty bookshelves and for the first time I feel the weight of leaving, and of what I'm leaving behind. I'm finding it harder and harder to fall asleep. I'm having dreams of airplanes crashing in reverse. The plane flies tail first out of a fiery explosion, like a phoenix. It takes me through the clouds into the clear, blue sky. I always wake up before it sets me safely down back home. I'm starting to look at the city and imagine how it will look in the future. I'm starting to see things as "staying" or "going." I'm starting to count down the days. I've started missing my friends while I'm hanging out with them. I pay more attention to their details, as if I'm storing them up - saving them to get me through a long winter. Every time I've ever seen the ocean it looks like it goes on forever, but I'll bridge that horizon and forever will end on another continent. I've stopped buying things I can't take with me. I'm missing you already. I'm starting to count down the days.

In case you missed it.

2009-09-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

I don't know how many people read my blog who don't read my facebook, but in case you missed it I quit the band. There's really no good way to explain why, so the short version is that it just became more stress than fun.

Also, I'm moving to Budapest, Hungary with Johnmark. Best idea ever? We'll see.

I typed an entirely different update here...

2009-07-26T20:29:00.000-07:00

then I deleted it. You want to know what I've been doing? Honestly, I spent 47 miles this week trying to outrun my problems. So far it's not working, so next week I'm shooting for 50.

Yeah, it's been a while.

2009-07-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

In my defense, I was on tour for a month. Or, I'm lazy. :P Now I'm home, so I have no excuse. Here's the tour recap:

Week 1:

Lincoln kickoff show was rad. Played a house show in Omaha with Houston Calls (great band. awesome dudes.). Two days in Springfield with our good friends. Went cliff jumping (50 foot cliffs) at a lake and grilled in the evening. Hot Springs, OK with The Last Slice (great ska band. crazy kids.). Another couple show in Oklahoma.

Week 2:

Dust storm in Lubbock, TX and friends. Show in a weird metal venue/practice space and friends. Day off at Elephant Butte Lake with Mike's relatives. Awesome relaxations times. :) Tucson show where kids were singing the words to our songs. Tempe with Nebraska friends. DISNEYLAND!!!

Week 3:

San Diego - got to eat at Sombrero's! Couple shows in the L.A. area. Awesome backyard house show with our Claremont friends. Concord show with our NoCal friends. Beautiful drive through northern CA kind of reminded me of home. Hotel in Oregon upgraded w/ a pool! Beautiful running trail. Portland has the biggest bookstore I've ever been in. <3

Week 4:

Unexpected Nebraska friends in Seattle. Met Mike and Tom from MxPx in Bremerton (Tom was our bartender at the venue)! Super nice people made us feel at home. The Pacific NW is beautiful. It's a crazy, mountainous forest! :) Boise is an AMAZING town with really cool people. Two shows that night. Todd was super great to us. Logan, UT is quaint. Slept in the venue. Had a great (and hilly) run there. Beautiful views. Ft. Collins show was a bust, but got to see old friends. Fun show in a weird venue in Denver. Drove home that night. Blew a tire on the trailer at 6:30 in the morning. Made it back alive!!!

Came back to my job at The Lincoln Running Company. Love that place. Picked up a second job at the YMCA (so I can do swim workouts again). :) Ramping up my training in hopes of doing the Des Moines marathon. Will be my first full if I can make it without getting injured. 36 miles last week, 42 this week. 14 mile long run this morning with Ben. Went in the country where it was SUPER hilly. Both of us felt bad. Averaged about 8 minute pace. That's not going to cut it, but I'll worry about speed later in the training (and on a day when I'm feeling better). Top of my right foot has been hurting a bit. Don't know what it is, but it's not slowing me down so I guess I won't worry about it for now.

Now you're all caught up.

Wicked

2009-05-11T09:19:00.000-07:00

I've had some good times since my last post. Got to hang out with Evan Bovee. It was good to see him, and I'm excited to hang out with him again in a few weeks when we play Springfield, MO. Kate and I skipped the Jason Mraz show and just hung out. That was probably the best decision of my week. I always have a great time when I'm with that girl. Thursday I packed a bunch of friends in the van and we headed to Lawrence, KS to see NFG with Bayside, Set Your Goals, and Fireworks. NFG played for well over an hour and didn't play a single bad song. It was a great show. Last night I went to Omaha with my brother and some friends to see Wicked. It was absolutely amazing. We went to Old Chicago and got some food and drinks after the show got out.

The band has been stressing me out lately. Between single-handedly booking our month long June tour to the West coast and spending all of the money I have, and some I don't have (I had to sell my bass cab) to order new t-shirts and reorder our CDs, I've just been going crazy. I feel like I'm not getting any help at all. So it goes. We've got a few things in the works that might turn out to be good for us, so I just need to keep it together and get through this.

Guess that's about it. Nothing fun specifically planned for this week, but I'm sure something will come up.

-E

...and then Kate called me out.

2009-05-03T17:48:00.000-07:00

So now you get another update. It's been just over a month since my last blog. Here's what you've missed:

We went on a short, week-long tour through the Midwest. Didn't really make much money, but we had a KILLER time!!! :) Lots of fun and friends in the Midwest

I can run again (kind of)!!! My IT band is still really tight, but I've been stretching, strengthening, and using the TriggerPoint on it (this stuff is AWESOME), and now I can run pain free for about 30 minutes. Slowly but surely, I guess

Because of said injury, I was unable to run the Lincoln Marathon today, but I went out to cheer on all my friends. It kind of bummed me out being around all the excitement but not being a part of it. However, I saw my friends go through some amazing and heart wrenching things today: Kate ran the half really fast and hit her goal time! Ginni ran her first marathon in 3:31 and qualified for Boston! Ben, founder of Market to Market, killed the half with a PB 1:27! My training buddy, Jorge, had a bad day - he's a new daddy :) - but still ran a 2:53 marathon! Mark's legs shut down around mile 22, forcing him to mostly walk the rest of the race. I saw him break down in tears after crossing the finish line, only to learn later that he was on pace to run 3:25 before mile 22, but ended up running 3:34 and missing his qualifying time by 4 minutes.

This week I'll be seeing Jason Mraz (yeah, you read that right, Barrett) and The Plain White Tees with Kate. Mraz is a little chill for my tastes, but he's growing on my. Plus, I've always wanted to be just like Barrett. That show is on Tuesday.

I'll stay in Omaha Tuesday night and drive to Ames, IA to pick up our new trailer.

Thursday night I'm heading to Lawrence, KS with some friends to see New Found Glory, Bayside, and Set Your Goals!!! Can you tell which show I'm more excited to see? Ahaha. However, I'm more excited to go with Kate on Tuesday than with the pop punk friends on Thursday, so it all evens out. :)

Friday? Maybe a date...maybe.

Saturday I work all day. 15 hours. As usual.

Sunday just might bring a long bike with Jorge. Looking forward to getting out on the bike more now that the weather is getting nice.

Guess I have a busy week, but I'm looking forward to all of it. Other than that, it's been business as usual. Booking our June tour to the West Coast is stressing me out. Working too much. Not working out as much as I'd like. Finished reading Once a Runner. Good book. Started reading Slapstick by Vonnegut. So it goes.

Because Barrett called me out...

2009-03-30T20:02:00.000-07:00

OK, so it's been a while. I forget that some people actually read blogs to keep up with what's going on in their friend's lives (even though that's really the only reason I have one). That reminds me, Lauren, I think you should get a blog. Or you and Barrett need to join facebook. If not, I'm going to have to get better about calling both of you! Here's a quick recap:

Tour was great. Had a blast with the Hercules crew. Got to see Barrett AND Lauren. Man, I miss those two. Had lots of crazy adventures. Made some money (well...broke even). Decided that Gainesville, FL is one of the few cities in which I could live, outside of Lincoln. Got to see a lot of friends, and make a lot of new ones. Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede!!! (google it if you're curious). Ran (a lot). 56 miles one week! Got injured two days before we got home, after spending the majority of tour missing out on some fun so I could go to bed early and get up and run before we had to be on the road. Went to the beach. Twice. :) Missed a month of crappy winter weather.

Since I've been home I've just been biking and swimming (and lots of strengthening and stretching to try to get the knee better). I haven't been able to run since we got home. Well, I did test it out tonight, since it was so nice out, but I only made it a mile before I had to stop. Looks like the marathon is out of the question. I've been working like crazy. 62 hours my first week home. Even though I get to go on tour, I still have to pay the bills. I am a little more than 400 pages through "Lore of Running" by Tim Noakes (it's over 900 pages). It's all about the physiology and training of running and it's AMAZING. If you're a serious runner, you should definitely read this book. I've been running for years and I've already learned so much...and have been corrected on a lot I thought I knew. I got a new toy - the Trigger Point massage kit. Also AMAZING. It hurts in just the right way. I also ordered some Infinit nutrition drink mix. I'm excited to try it out. I'll let you all know how it goes.

Guess that's about it. I'm very thirsty and way tired, so I'm off to chug a glass of water and go to bed. Gotta get up at 5:30 for a swim workout.

Berzerkermode

2009-02-13T06:42:00.000-08:00

Well, we're a week out on the JV Allstars/Hercules Berzerkermode tour and I must say that I really love those guys. Great guys, great music. Traveling with friends definitely makes tour more fun. It's hard to believe that we get 3 more weeks of this!

Running has been going well. I'm running longer miles every other day, rather than trying to run 6 days a week. Jorge and I talked it over and that seems like the best idea for training specificity (since I'm training for a marathon) and it seems to be working well with my crazy schedule. Since we left I've done 15, 10, and 14 mile runs and seem to be handling it well. I hope to meet up with Barrett tomorrow for a 16-miler. Luckily I'm not at home because that 16 miles will be a lot easier to do in the 50 degree weather than it would in the 10 inches of snow that Nebraska is supposed to get. The only thing I'm worried about is having lower volume since I'm running less days a week, but if this keeps me in relatively good shape, I'll be ready for what Jorge is calling "bloody March" when I get home. I think that means it's going to be a tough month of training?

It has been great seeing friends that we've made on other tours, but I'm excited to get out of the Midwest and start making some new friends in the South!

Oh, I have a blog?

2009-01-27T16:52:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I honestly forget that I have this thing. I mostly use it to keep up on other people's blogs. However, sometimes I just don't know that anyone is that interested. Regardless, here is an update:

Running:

Other than a small IT band scare, I've been running well and injury-free. I hit my miles last week (46), so that's a start. I guess I'll actually decide if I'm running the Lincoln Marathon once I get back from tour. I have some 50 and 60 mile weeks I'm supposed to do, and, since I've never tried to run while on tour, I'm not sure how feasable that is. If I can get the training in while on tour, I plan on putting in the real work and signing up for the marathon as soon as I get home!

Band:

We leave for tour in just over a week, which means I'm running around like crazy trying to get everything done (get the breaks fixed on the van, reorder t-shirts, order stickers, pack, etc.). We're headed to Florida which is exciting because we've never been there, plus, we'll be down south so I'll get to run in some better weather! :) Maybe I'll be able to hook up with Barrett and he can remind me of the difference between an elite athlete and us mortals.

We're also in the process of signing a publishing contract, which is just as scary as it is exciting. It basically just means that some guy is going to take our songs, remix and remaster them, and try to get them in movies and commercials. That's a great step for us, however looking over and negotiating the contract is kind of scary.

I'm also excited for the new songs we're writing!!! :)

Well, if you know me you know that that's pretty much my life. I'm working quite a bit so I can afford all the tours we're going on. I'm reading a couple books, as usual. I'm hanging out when I can (or, more realistically, when I feel like it). Watching quite a few movies (on the trainer - it is winter in Nebraska). The girl situation is looking pretty bleak right now. Guess that's how it goes when you're looking for something pretty specific. So it goes. I don't want to end on that note, so I guess I'll just say that at this point I'm feeling pretty excited about trying to run a sub-3 hour marathon! :)

2008 Totals

2009-01-03T17:09:00.000-08:00

Well, it wasn't a great year for training, but, in my defense, I was gone for two month-long West coast tours, one month-long East coast tour, and a two week Midwest tour. Since I don't usually train while on tour, not only did I miss those three and a half months, but I essentially had to start over when I got home. No triathlons on the schedule for 2009, so I'll swim and bike to my liking, but I'm training for the Lincoln marathon, so I'm sure my running will be up this year. Anyway, enough excuses. Here are my totals for this year and how they compare to last year (when I trained for my first half-ironman).

Swim:

2007 - 294,300 yards or 167 miles

2008 - 96,200 yards or 54.66 miles

Bike:

2007 - 167 hours

2008 - 24 hours

Run:

2007 - 1,291 miles

2008 - 856.5 miles

Barrett, I finally did it! Or, Johnmark would be so proud. Or, because I know you hate it when I don't smile in my pictures.

2008-12-27T19:14:00.000-08:00

I finally grew a beard. Sort of. As much as I could handle anyway. Here's the progression:

Week one (weak one)

Week Two (front and side) - I liked this length the best. If I had to keep it, I'd keep it trimmed to this length.

Week Three (up close and scary!)

Finally!

In case you are wondering, yes, that's a new hoodie I'm wearing above. Gotta love Christmas! Can't wait until tomorrow morning so I can go running with Jorge and be reminded of how cold a north wind is at 8 in the morning at the end of December. :)

Lab rat (chasing Lance Armstrong)

2008-12-17T12:03:00.000-08:00

So my buddy, Jorge, who is getting his PhD in exercise physiology at UNL, asked me to do a max test on the bike today; he needs baseline readings for a study he is doing. I told him that, other than doing exactly one hour on the trainer on Sunday, I haven't been on a bike since early August, and that I have only been running for a week after being off for the entire month of November for tour. "Perfect," he says, "I need readings for normal people." Well, I was willing to help out and slightly interested to see what kind of fitness I have in the off season.

So, I get to the lab, he puts all kinds of sensors on one of my legs, straps a heart rate monitor on me, shoves a big tube in my mouth, puts a clamp on my nose, and tells me to go (that's the shorthand version). I was to pedal at 70 rpms, starting at 25 watts, and every 2 minutes the resistance would go up by 25 watts.

It was hard to keep the rpms down at first because it was so easy, but then it got better. It was also hard to breathe with that tube in my mouth, but once I actually started to work I didn't even notice it. The one thing I did notice was that 70 rpms is hard to do for someone who is used to cycling because it was quite a bit slower than I wanted to pedal.

I was really happy with the numbers, and Jorge said he was impressed. I was pushing 275 watts when the test ended (I couldn't hold 70 rpms any longer); Jorge said that was 50 watts higher than he thought I would do given my weight and current fitness. My max heart rate was 190. My VO2 max was 61.5. They said that because of the difference between running and cycling it would have been around 66 if I had done the treadmill test.

Of course I had to find out how good that is, so I did a little research. The average untrained male has a VO2 max of 45. Apparently if it's over 60 you're considered an "athlete." Lance Armstrong's is 85. Not bad for being "out of shape," and considering I ran 5 miles yesterday and did a swim workout at 5Am this morning (which apparently is not allowed for an actual max test), however, I would like to have it done sometime when I'm in racing shape. The only downside is that Jorge says I have a lot of potential and that now he knows how much harder he can push me when we're running together.

Guess I need to get to work if I'm ever going to be as fit as Lance!

Netflix and a long winter spent indoors

2008-12-15T20:56:00.000-08:00

Contrary to the title of this post, I ran outside in a windchill of -20 degrees today. Yes, outside. Yes, -20 degree windchill. I can only stand the treadmill so much, so I'll save those days for when it's icy or when I want to do a little speedwork.

That being said, yesterday I set up the spin bike that Barrett so kindly left here when he moved (because he couldn't fit anything else in his truck) and did my first indoor ride. It was only an hour, but went more quickly than I remember indoor rides going. Unfortunately, if Barrett ever comes back and manages to find a way to get that thing home, I'm going to have to shell out the money for an indoor trainer. On the bright side, I joined Netflix so I will have an endless supply of movies to watch while I'm hammering away on the bike. Luckily, that won't be too much, since I've decided that we'll be touring too much for me to do my first Ironman next year. Instead, I'm going to ramp up the running, (attempt to) run through February tour, and try my first full marathon in Lincoln in May. Planning on getting up around 70 mile weeks for about 3 weeks before I begin a long taper for the race. I figure some big run mileage will make for a good base and building a big "engine."

Johnmark and I decided we're going to re-read Moby Dick together. If you want to be part of the reading/discussion, let me know and we'll figure out how to include you. I think we're starting on Sunday.

In other news, there is no other news.

Cheers!

Eric

What does a blog do?

2008-12-10T18:55:00.000-08:00

Got back home last week from our second successful tour in a row. We must be doing something right? However, I paid for the good karma of tour with a busted computer. I spent all of my savings on a new computer so I could continue to book our February tour. Down to about $40. So it goes. Other than that, I'm just getting back in the swing of working and training. I have been doing some nice short (6 miles or less), easy runs, and on Sunday I went climbing with Kate. I'm still a little sore today (Wednesday), but I REALLY miss climbing (and that girl). Also meeting back up with Jorge on Sunday to get our long runs started back up again. I'm excited to see that guy. We're only going 6, but we always have a lot of fun. It's great to have a good running buddy, especially during the cold and windy Nebraska winters!

Back Tour The Future

2008-11-12T09:40:00.000-08:00

Tour is going really well so far. We're actually making money, which I attribute almost completely to the low gas prices. It's a beautiful day in Ft. Collins, CO, and I wish I could go out and run. It's probably a good thing that I can't since walking up 3 flights of stairs at altitude leaves me a little winded. I'm reading "Running With The Buffaloes" by Chris Lear; it's a great book and a good way to keep myself pumped up to train even when I have to take a month off (it's also keeping me from eating too much fast food). Time to wake up the boys and drive to Grand Junction for another show.

Cheers!
E

Easing into the "off" season

2008-11-02T09:50:00.000-08:00

I do long runs with my friend, Jorge, on Sunday mornings. Last weekend we dropped from 12 miles to 10. This weekend we did 8 miles then went back to his house for breakfast. Oh, how I'm enjoying this much deserved rest...for a while anyway, until I get antsy and have to get back to doing at least a LITTLE work. This month I'll take entirely off, but being on tour will keep me preoccupied enough that I won't even think about training. When I get back I'll start running a little and I think I'm going to hit the weights this winter. Hey, it can't hurt, right? Probably won't start swimming and biking (trainer. ugh.) until January. To everyone who is done racing for the year (which is everyone I know except for Barrett, who ALWAYS races too much), enjoy the downtime. :)

Cheers!
E

Last swim workout of 2008. :(

2008-10-29T12:21:00.001-07:00

At least it was a good one! I put my membership on hold today, in preparation for leaving for tour next week. Since I will 1) be gone and 2) not be able to afford it, this was my only option. Oh well, it's the out season. Plus, tour is going to be a BLASTY! Anyway, what did I do for my last swim workout of the year? This monster, stolen from this badass blog:

A "broken" continuous 1500:

25 sprint/25 easy x 3
50 sprint/50 easy x 2
75 sprint/75 easy x 1
do the same thing again 2 more times

Man, it was tough, but what a workout! Chuckie V's blog is great if you're into triathlon but not into B.S.! I really have no reason to be doing two workouts a day right now, but it's so beautiful out that I might take in a quick run before work.

Cheers!
E

P.S.
Congratulations to Kate for completing her first (only? :P) marathon!!!

The First One (Breathe, stupid!)

2008-10-22T12:19:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone! I decided to make a new blog and went with Blogger since almost all of the other blogs I read are published through this website. This blog will be a happy mix of my triathlon training & racing, my crazy adventures as a touring musician, and just general life stuff.
So today I did a short (seeing as how I'll be taking November off for tour and "out season") swim workout. I got to share a lane with an Olympic gold medalist! I pretty much swam with him...when I was doing my fast intervals and he was still warming up. I'm sure he's nowhere near Olympic shape now, but he was still beating all the fast guys by almost an entire length when they were doing 600s. Impressive. As for me, I just did 8x75 (2 easy, 1 fast), 5x100 best average on :20RI (went 1:40s), and 3x100 pull descending 1-3. I finally realized the other day that you don't hold you're breath when you're underwater, but you slowly breathe out continually until the next inhale (breathe, stupid!). It's a completely new experience for me to be able to swim until my muscles are sore instead of until I'm gasping for breath. However, now that I'm swimming faster, I'm still gasping for breath. :)

en·dur·ance [en-door-uhns, -dyoor-]

2008-08-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

–noun

1.the fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc.

2.the ability or strength to continue or last, esp. despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina: He has amazing physical endurance.

3.lasting quality; duration: His friendships have little endurance.

4.something endured, as a hardship; trial.

Yesterday I raced my first half Ironman triathlon which consists of a 1.2mile swim, 56mile bike, and a 13.1mile run. It was definitely an endurance event, both physically and mentally, and in many ways I crossed the finish line a different person. What follows is a peek into what I endured that day.

I awoke just before 4am to eat and do a quick shake-loose run. I was up before my alarm because I had been waking up periodically throughout the night. I don’t generally get nervous before races but, even though it’s never happened to me before, I have a huge fear of sleeping through my alarm. I stepped out of my hotel room and even in the dark I could tell the sky was overcast. Still, the weather was pretty calm. The forecast for the day seemed to change hourly - such is the nature of the weather. I did a quick jog and forced down a good amount of food knowing I would be racing for at least 5 hours and would need those calories at some point in the day.

I got to the race at 6 and got my stuff set up in the transition area. I was early enough that only the race volunteers and a few of the athletes dotted the transition area. As the light gray of a cloudy morning sky began to seep into and overtake the darkness of night, more and more athletes entered the transition area to get set up and mill around nervously until the start of the race. I, however, had decided not to be nervous even though this was twice as long as any other triathlon I had done. I had trained for 8 months, so I felt well prepared. Plus, a half Ironman is long race and anything can happen out there. There are so many things that are out of your control no matter how well prepared you are, so I figured, why waste my energy worrying?

The race starts at 7:30 and I run into the water knowing that this is my weakest of the three disciplines. Now, I'm a pretty mediocre swimmer, but this swim was awful. I only got kicked in the face once, but I was having trouble sighting and apparently I wasn't swimming very fast either. With everyone swimming together and stirring the lake into a frenzy, I felt like a rickety wooden ship stuck in a hurricane. When we made the turn around the final buoy, I was so happy to see the swim finish getting closer. I trudged out of the water and was relieved to be back on the beach, but when I looked at my watch and realized that I was 8 minutes behind where I wanted to be, that suddenly drug my relief into the pit of my stomach and planted it there as the uncomfortable feeling of dread. Right then I knew that I was really going to have to hammer on the bike and have a perfect run to reach my goal of breaking 5 hours. I came out of the water 408th out of 600+ people (including teams). I ran into transition, cracked my sunglasses putting them on, grabbed my bike and was off.

It had rained a little while we were swimming, so the roads were wet for about the first 10 miles, but I knew that I didn't have the time to spare to take it easy for the sake of safety. This is, after all, a race. I exited the park and there was a big downhill followed by a long flat. There was a line of bikes that stretched out quite literally as far as I could see. I tried to stay calm and remember that there was still a lot of racing left to do, so I just thought to myself, “No worries. You’ll just have to pass them.” The first 5 miles were pretty flat, but that was the only easy part of this, "challenging," bike course. It was pretty hilly the whole way. In fact, we had to ride up what felt like a vertical wall at about mile 16. The only good thing about bombing the swim was that I was constantly passing people on the bike, which was a great confidence booster - especially during the later stages of the bike when I was tired and it was hard to focus. The first 20 miles or so went by pretty easily; I was keeping a good pace with little effort and was really able to attack the hills. There was a stretch from about mile 25 to mile 40 where we had a pretty stiff headwind, and I really had to push to hold my pace. By mile 45 I was getting really tired and was ready to get off the bike and on to the run which, as a runner, I figured would be a piece of cake. At about mile 50 my legs started cramping a little bit, but I only had that big hill back in to the park and the bike was over. I held an average pace of just over 20mph to finish the bike leg in 2:45. During the bike I had passed over 200 people to come off in 178th place.

The clouds were beginning to break and the sun was making it hot and humid, so I threw off my jersey, slipped on my shoes, and was off for the last 13.1 miles of this 70.3 mile adventure. I came off the bike with a total time of about 3:30 and knew that if I had a perfect run that I could still hit my goal. I had some side cramps right away, but that's pretty usual for me when running off the bike, and I just hoped they would go away as I settled in to my pace. I was still on target through about 4 miles, running about 6:45 pace, but then everything began to unravel. My pace slowed to a couple 7:30's and then I decided to walk through the aid stations to make sure I was getting enough fluids since the course was all sun and heat now. I quickly realized that it was too late and that I was dehydrated and had gone out too fast on the run. Luckily the heat had turned the run into a death march for everyone, so I was still passing people pretty regularly. This helped to keep my spirits up a bit but I was still going too slow; it was hard to deal with the fact that I knew I could run faster but my body just wouldn't respond. My right knee started to hurt, then my quads started to cramp up, and finally my calves knotted into wood in my lower legs and slowed me to a couple of 9 minute miles. There were so many people walking, but I just couldn't let myself do it. I knew I was not going to make my goal time, but I trained for 8 months and drove 5 hours to race - to see what I could do - and I was going to give it everything I had. I managed to force myself back down to 8 minute pace and drug myself to the finish line. My run time was 1:46 (just over 8 minute pace), for a total time of 5:21 and a final place of 103rd.

As I lay in the grass, my quads twitching with spasms and my calves knotted into solid blocks of wood, I stared at the wisps of thin white clouds painted against a blue summer sky and marveled at what my body was able to endure. Sure, I was sore and tired, but I had just traveled a total of 70.3 miles by swimming, biking, and running. I traveled 70.3 miles under my own power and I did it in less than five and a half hours. It’s amazing to realize what my body was able to do and exciting to think about what else I might be capable of. What are the limits of the human body? Every time I tackle a new challenge or distance I think I get closer to finding out.