Longhorn Ironman 70.3 - final race of the season

Barton Springs Pool

Pre-Race Adventures
As I sat on the airplane on my way to Austin, Texas three days before my final race of the season, I thought to my self, “what on earth am I doing flying to Austin to swim, bike and run?” Lugging my bike box, racking up grossly overpriced excess baggage fees, navigating my way through a new city in a rental vehicle and sleeping on thin hotel sheets seemed a far cry from what I really felt like doing which was to stay home in the comforts of my routine and well-defined schedule. It took mere minutes to flip my cynical and ponderous attitude on its head upon my arrival into the Austin airport and experience the welcoming openness of this great city, home of the Texas Longhorns and USA capital of live music.

Just two days before leaving for Austin, my travel partner and Professional Triathlete, Sara Gross, bowed out of coming due to a flu bug that wasn’t letting up. Sara is going on to race Ironman Arizona in a few weeks time so she felt no need to drain herself in the Longhorn experience. While I missed her company for the travel, I settled into nomadic mode and explored the town with vigor.

Day One was an unplanned excursion day as I attempted to get oriented and familiar with the landscape and climate. My first stop was Jack & Adams Cycles, a local’s shop for triathlon gear, nutrition products, and great service. Just around the corner were two more enormous cycling and triathlon stores nestled in between “Austin Java” and funky bistros. I was encouraged to explore the famous quarter mile spring fed Barton Springs Pool in Zilker Park a quick mile away from Jack & Adams (on Barton Spring Avenue). My eyes deceived me when I rode up to this enormous quasi-canal-like-pool with Lifeguard chairs and distance markers. Apparently, this was the training pond for local triathletes and long-distance swimmers. Next visit, I’ll be sure to go for a 4-lap splash just to say I swam a mile in Barton Springs Pool.

After a short run along the Barton Town Trail, also popular route to the svelte and fit, young and old neighborhood prancing along with their dogs or comrades, I GPS’ed my way to Luedecke Arena and Walter E. Long Lake for race registration and a tour of the transition site. Longhorn Ironman is organized by EndorFUN (Race Director, Keith Jordan). This company is now the event organizers for three more 70.3’s – Timberman, Mooseman, and Lone Star. After experiencing the organization of EndorFUN, the preparatory information, and coordination of logistics, along with the fact that the 70.3 (half Ironman distance) is a distance I am embracing as my main focus, I hope to schedule more of EndorFUN races into my season. As I said to Keith Jordan, his recruitment of enthusiastic volunteer support, the unmistakable course markings, the offering of quality event merchandise, a seamless transition set up, and the race-day spirit should be the model for other race coordinators.

One Day Before Race:
Saturday involved a refreshing swim, smooth ride, and short jaunt from T1 (transition one) where I was in fine company of at least 1,000 athletes doing the similar yet slightly personalized routine. I kept to myself and reveled in eavesdropping on in-depth conversations about race day nutrition, pacing protocols, “lack of training” and declarations of doubt and fear, all the while justifying their presence with sentiments of encouragement and grounding inspiration.

The Pro Meeting was efficient and informative. The USAT Officials assured us there would be at least four motorbikes accompanying us all day to ensure fair riding for everyone. This was a relief since they were MIA - missing-in-action - in Augusta, a short month earlier.

By noon, the race day preparations were a rap. Amit Bhutani, my almost-homestay-local-triathlete-recoverying-from-shoulder-surgery-race-day-volunteer-facebook- expert-new-friend and overly hospitable generous soul and I toured the Expo prior to my navigating (albeit poorly) back to my dinky hotel room to rest and rejuvenate.

Dinner both Friday and Saturday night consisted of a football size baked sweet potato and a Texas grain fed 6oz filet mignon. The tank was topped up and race day would simply require a focused mind clear of any thought and judgment coupled with a rhythmic stroke, silky slipstream, and gazelle-like steps.

Race Day:
All 2500+ athletes along with equal number of supporters and volunteers were crowding into transition as early as 5:00 a.m. The Pro’s wave was at 7:30 a.m. with 4-minute intervals to follow by age group. Some sorry souls only started at 8:40 a.m. yet had to have their bikes set up, morning clothes dropped off and be cleared out of the transition barricades at 7:15 a.m. This meant many of them were standing around in a wetsuit for well over an hour waiting for their long anticipated wave start. Some people ask me why I choose to race professionally; an early start is definitely one of the reasons.

My “staging” area was dialed within 5 minutes. Check, check…bike racked, shoes in pedals, helmet, race belt and sunglasses resting on bars, gels and electrolytes secured to frame, bottles in cages, and odometer set to zero…check, check. With wavering confidence that my bike would remain unhampered or that my tires would mysteriously deflate, I committed to the next phase of pre-race preparations – put on swim cap, goggles, wetsuit, loosen up and narrow the minds eye prior to plunging in for a warm up.

Swim:
With 30 seconds to the start gun, the Pro field had drifted well over 30 meters ahead of the start buoys, with 10 seconds to go, we were uncontrollable and in full propulsion. Much to my amazement, I had a powerful no nonsense start and stuck close to the splashing and commotion of the main pack. My swim starts are an area of weakness yet I have been training to improve my explosive power “out of the gates.” Maybe it paid off? Let’s just pretend it did.

The swim course was marked with 10 foot red buoys in triangular formation. The course was unmistakable and if feeling strong, anyone could have had a good swim. Without relinquishing any effort, I successfully swam through a few packs before the final turn. With 750 meters remaining, I caught Terra Castro and stayed on her feet for the rest of the swim. A thick bed of weeds welcomed us back to shore. Time: 27:53. Followed by a steep grassy run up to the bikes, there was no time to contemplate life since I was determined to improve my transitions shift into bike mode as fast as I could. Time: 2:01 (well within the top pros).

Bike:
Once onto the bike, I put my head down and focused solely on the road ahead of me. The roads were a buffet of chip seal, cracked asphalt, and smooth pavement. There was opportunity to stay aero and fast yet the undulating hills allowed for diversity and an out of the saddle stretch. The pace was painful, the effort required solid focus, and double the calories I had planned for. Every time the sensation of “pain” or “discomfort” entered my conscious mind, I would self negotiate to acknowledge yet ignore the distress until after the race. Once through the finish line, I would give all the time and attention necessary to restore my body to homeostasis. This little bargain seemed to put the unnecessary at bay. With increasing frequency, I found myself pulling this ruse out for the last 10 miles of the ride and most of the 13-mile run.

With the exception of passing two other girls and being past by Kate Bevilaqua, nodding to the odd motorbike or photographer, and rolling through four aid stations, my two and a half hours were spent in my own company and the voice of a steady unrelenting mind. The course meandered through the rural roads of Austin’s farm country and formed an odd figure eight that never intersected. While I was not “magic on wheels,” I was motivated to dig for the strength I knew I had. I remembered thinking “I may as well kill myself trying before giving into the effort.” Kate and I pulled into T2 (transition two) side by side. Time: 2:28:51.

T2
In keeping with my “quick transition” goal, I didn’t even tie my laces up on my runners. I bolted out and stopped to tighten them once I ran over the timing mat. Time: 2:41 (the fastest time was only 20 seconds faster).

Run:
The party was on the 3-loop hilly run course. Runners were treated to live music, a sprinkling of cheerleaders, 18-themed aid stations (being one week prior to Halloween, there were no shortage of outrageous costume-clad volunteers), some grassy paths, some trail but mainly roads and ice cold towels every 3.5 miles. The heat and humidity was escalating and if I glimpsed down, I could see the salt crystals forming on the roundest part of cheeks. While likely not the salt from my cheeks, I knew this mineral would be a major ingredient in my post-race snack.

If nothing else, my focus was on maintaining a quick foot cadence, relaxing my shoulders and hands, and keeping tight angle in my elbows. Training with quicker steps has been a major theme of my practice runs for the past few months - counting and recounting my steps for 60 seconds, aiming for over 180. My highest cadence thus far, with great effort, had been 200 steps in one minute. I would be more than pleased with 184-188 steps per minute for race day. This would ensure efficiency and a speedier time than my 1:33 split in Augusta.

The level of discomfort was at an all-time high for most of the run. For the second and third loop, the age-group divisions poured onto the course. It was wonderful to have the company and share the effort with inspiring athletes. Given the distance of 70.3 miles and the time of approximately 4.5 hours, I was tapping into any and all fitness available. Gatorade, gels, water, and salt were guzzled at regular intervals. With about 200 meters to go, I was passed by another pro who found some great sprint in her step to finish a near 10 seconds up from me. I do recall trying to challenge the pass but surrendered when a greater effort resulted in the exact same speed. The Longhorn Finish line was inside the Arena with cheering crowds in the bleachers. Final Time: 4:29. A Personal Best at this distance. 9th Place Female Pro.

Nothing beats ending a season with nothing left other than motivation for a strong recovery and rejuvenation for next year. The Half Ironman distance has opened up a new level of enthusiasm for my racing career. When coupled with attending stupendously organized and spirited events, it makes the adventure much more satisfying.

Amit & Rad
My new friend Amit and his wife, Rad, collected me from my hotel that evening for a wonderful outing to a casual brewery serving over 100 imported and local ales. They wanted to take me somewhere more “interesting” and authentic than this place but I couldn’t have been happier right where we were. Since Austin is my new favorite destination, I’ll be returning to explore a few more hidden treasures. Amit and I engaged in the pros and cons of Facebook-ing. I was the cynic and he was the opportunist. Our debate found a happy middle ground on the pervasiveness of a Global Village as a result of Facebook, and now Twitter; yet authentic socialization will always require in person grassroots connections and relationships. I think Rad sat somewhere in between but agreed slight more with my perspective ☻

Home
Back in Vancouver. No routine. No “training”. Yoga, work, friends, movies, late night outings, and reading fiction.
Always welcoming the experience of others and keen interest to challenge the body and soul. Yoga has become a wonderful tool to reconnect with many overlooked aspects of the self. We have a new studio here in Vancouver that could easily be coined a sanctuary. If not curled up reading, find me at YYoga Flow.

Send me your news, goals, or tribulations. Better yet, lets get together in person to share adventures!

Christine

A New Chapter - HALF IRONMAN

And so I land in Austin, Texas for my last officially planned race of the season.
Tomorrow is the Longhorn Ironman 70.3, a long running event that now hosts over 2500 athletes from all over the world. This is my 3rd Half Ironman race since my less than glamorous showing at Ironman Canada. IMC was an experiment, like all races I suppose, to race without judgment and execute a plan based on my fitness and experience. For whatever reason, I finished up my 19th Ironman proud of a finish but perplexed by my performance, or lack thereof.

With a quick shake of the head and necessary outburst of emotions, I dusted off and decided that my Ironman-distance racing chapter needs to close for a while. Maybe someday I’ll rekindle a desire to race that length again but my sense is it will be a long while. What a relief it is to have clarity in this decision.

The experience of training for Ironman races has instilled in me strength, confidence, sense of purpose and vitalization that would not have been found any other way. I can only hope to transfer these qualities to my everyday life and to the people I love and care about. The experience of traveling to race at Ironman events have opened my life up even more through the people, the places, and the challenge of the start line tension, the diversity of courses, and the finish line ecstasy.

And so I take it all in and be grateful to have had many years of preparing my mind and fitness for the 4km swim, 180km bike and 42km run.

My newest chapter reads HALF IRONMAN in big bold letters. If new to the ironman terminology, a Half Ironman is a 2km swim, 90km bike and 21km run. My body and mind work well at this distance. I don’t know why my experience at this distance is more rewarding but it may be because I race the entire event (instead of surviving as was typical in an Ironman distance race). At the half distance, I race at an intensity that challenges and uses my fitness to its edge. This leaves me with a snapshot of where I must improve upon in my training. It’s a thrill to participate in an event that offers up a true test coupled with a tangible challenge. My mind is free to race, not in anticipation of a melt down as it was in an Ironman. My mind is rooted in moving forward and welcoming the pain that comes from effort, power, and speed all the while knowing how sweet the finish will be. This is why I do this sport…this is why we all do sport.

And so for the next year, this distance will be the title of my chapter. While a few other changes are necessary to compliment this new focus, I have decided to make those changes after tomorrow.

How did I end up in Austin, Texas, home of Live Music, real beef, and the Texas Longhorns? In fact, this major triathlon is only one of many events going on in town this weekend. Livestrong and the Austin International Film Festival are only two of the other events competing for airtime. While I have not spotted Lance himself, I can certainly understand why he lives here. Austin is a beautiful, friendly, clean, quaint (but growing), funky, healthy, active, and temperate city (apparently quite hot summers). This road trip follows on the heels of a recent trip to Augusta, Georgia for the Ironman Augusta 70.3 event on September 25th to which I traveled down with Sara Gross. I finished 9th Pro Female and knocked 8 minutes off my Half Ironman time. Prior to this race was the Subaru Sooke Half Ironman on September 13th. Amazingly, I won this event with Ironman Canada still fresh in my legs. The Longhorn Ironman 70.3 was easily scheduled as my last hurrah in 2009. These races are just setting the scene for my chapter. I plan for an enthralling plot and complex characters.

And so…when I awake tomorrow, I’ll feel nervous and excited for the right reasons. I’ll feel anticipation and eagerness for the starting horn and rapid adrenaline gushing through my veins. I’ll feel focus and certainty. I’ll feel freedom to explore my fitness and search for my tipping point. No judgments, no holding back, no strings attached.

Racing From Within

Another short lapse since my last entry…I procrastinated to write a report on Ironman Lake Placid. It was an emotional experience and likely one I’d rather keep to myself. The lessons came tumbling in a few short hours after the finish. The race, the experience, and the result were supposed to happen so that I could search deep within and look at what is happening to me on race day...an Ironman Race Day no less. I have looked at my pacing, nutrition, and training a million times. Surely after all these years, I have most of those elements dialed enough for a strong finish. This leaves me with the mental and emotional aspects of racing, performing and believing. Ah ha.

Needless to say, Lake Placid forced me to look at why I have lost my power, strength, and confidence on an Ironman race day. It doesn’t take a PhD to figure out that it all comes back to me and my thoughts and attitude. What a relief, I say, because it is changeable and within my control. And, I love things that are within my control.

Someone very insightful wrote this to me after IMLP:
I believe that if we can get you to a place where you can let go of these shackles
you've carried for so long, you will be able to race and live the way you deserve.
You are a very powerful woman with skills and gifts that make most envious.
But when we let others take our power our source is damned up.
When we stop that thievery, that power will flow unabated.
When you do take control of your own destiny you will have a race that will
surprise everyone save me. Now we just need you to see that as clearly as I do.
- August 2009

I share this only because of how it was written. It actually brought tears to my eyes and inspired me to walk a new pathway of freedom and courage.

For the first time ever, I crossed a finish line and announced that would be my last Ironman. Well, here I sit in Penticton awaiting the start of my 16th Ironman. It was only with a new thought pattern and revised goals that I sent in my registration. Sunday will be a true celebration of my physical and mental efforts. My only goal is to be in my power at each moment and own the experience of the day. My mind will work in harmony with my body and be at complete peace with thoughts flowing in and out all the while my strength is expressed within a swim, a bike ride and a run. My butterflies are from excitement and eagerness to get the race underway. My fears are set aside for the day and overridden with each passing moment. My body will move with steady, patient effort, building strength and power all day. Watch or don’t watch, in fact, it doesn’t matter because Sunday isn’t about you for a change. What a relief.

cf

Ironman Lake Placid 2009 Photos

top, middle, bottom.

Sister in Law, Caroline & Christine

Brother, Mark and Nephew, Harry

Niece & Nephew, Jackie & Harrison Fletcher, and Christine

Curious from Lake Placid, NY

CAF, Pensive & Calm & Curious

It’s only a few short hours before the cannon blows of the 11th annual Ironman Lake Placid. My mom and I have been perched in the Maple Leaf Motel Inn since Monday preparing for race day. Thousands of other athletes occupy the town in anticipation of one of the largest Ironman events on the circuit. From what I hear, over 2,000 athletes will be starting at 7:00 a.m. on Sunday, July 26th.

Lake Placid is a resort town located 2.5 hours south of Montreal in the State of New York. The Olympic Games were held here in 1932 and 1980. In fact, the finish line is set along the track of the Olympic Speed Skating Oval where Eric Heiden won his five Olympic gold medals. The swim takes place in Mirror Lake, a narrow and protected lake that runs parallel to the Village centre. Under the water is a cable that lines the IM swim course. If lucky enough to be close to the cable sighting is completely unnecessary. From what I hear, this cable is for the rowers that frequently train in Mirror Lake. It seems like sporting history and inspiration is at the heart of the event.

There have definitely been some adjustments in my approach to this race. My sense is these shifts happened organically and perhaps due to the fact that I’ll soon be starting my sixteenth Ironman. Feelings of excitement and thrill are rarely dulled despite my veteran status on a start line but this time a sense of curiosity for what the day will bring and a willingness to go with it. Of course, my plan is to execute a stellar race and give everything stored up inside but if something unforeseen comes my way, I am curious how things will play out. It could be anything from a crazy thunderstorm to running down the race leader. My emotions are very much “in check” and my mindset is one of confidence and ease. My job tomorrow is simply to execute my race and pay attention to the little signals, both internal and external.

I have fallen in love with Lake Placid, the lakes, the roads, the views, the sporting venues, and quaintness of our little motel. Race day already feels like it will be over too soon. It is my intention to soak up the experience as best as I can and finish strong, satisfied, and solid. I am as curious as the next guy to find out how things will unfold.

Stay Tuned.
C

The “Greats” of an Injury

Paul Cross & myself

The best part of overcoming an injury (in my case, stress fracture in foot) is feeling grateful for our healthy body and sensing renewed freedom from the restraints of constantly nursing the wound. It’s remarkable how much mental strength and emotion come into play when something in one’s body goes awry. Having had the odd injury in my past, I am well practiced at the many stages of coping with an injury: first comes raging denial which settles into anger then despair and maybe some regret, finally admittance and acceptance percolates, then as the rollercoaster settles in its station, surrender takes over that can, at times, feel like a relief. The key ingredient to coping, of course, is one’s creativity in designing an adaptation plan that mimics the activity you would otherwise be doing as an uninjured athlete. My creativity was at its height at about 4 weeks.

After listening to an Endurance Corner Podcast with Gordo Byrn and Bobbie McGee in which they discussed the many ways to build endurance for an endurance event like Ironman (an event which isn’t terribly fast but is long and lasts all day). Bobby McGee http://www.bobbymcgee.com/ commented that one doesn’t have to exclusively swim, bike and run to build endurance, especially in the base and pre-build phase of ones training. Hiking, trekking, Nordic skiing, snowshoeing, and mountain biking can all be great substitutes. He also believes that inserting a few “go-all-day” days in a year is a great way to build that non-stop engine. So, I decided to plan a “go-all-day” adventure. It started with an early swim of about 4km at an easy to solid pace, home for breakfast (whilst standing), quickly on my time trial bike for 5 hours at base effort, home to have a snack (whilst transitioning into hiking gear), hopped on my cyclo-cross bike with knapsack and runners for a short trip to the North Shore mountains for an intense 45 minute trek up the Grouse Grind trail, down the 6-minute tram (standing), hopped back on my cyclo-cross bike for the ride home where I, finally, crossed my imaginative finish line. I did it alone so I could be in the moment and mimic what it might feel like in my next Ironman. Looking back, it was both the mental deposit and physical output needed minus the actual running event.

At 5 weeks and 3 days, my foot allowed me to jog 10 minutes on the treadmill. Two days later my foot and I did 20 minutes at a ridiculously slow pace. Each day after the 6-week mark, my foot was willing to go a bit further and resistant to any insult.

Some “great” did, however, come out of this little hiccup. For one, I befriended a few new gals who were also injured. We’d meet at Kits pool to stride through the water on our way to nowhere in dream-like slow motion. I was quickly reminded that proper technique (with or without a floatation belt) is crucial when water running. If the body is not upright and poised while producing a powerful stride and arm swings, the running muscles will not be recruited. All to often water runners fall forward, collapse at the hips, and use the hands to move forward. This technique resembles breaststroking instead of running. While I am far from an expert, and don’t wish to become one, I picked up a few tips from my water running buddies that had great technique and had me working up a sweat in no time.

Another “great” from my downtime was the motivation I had to work on my run form and efficiency and start a run specific core routine. It was no decision for me to hired Paul Cross, http://www.crossathleticconsulting.com/ as the master behind this new focus. Why did I wait so long to do this? Paul’s approach to running form is inspired by Bobby McGee (as mentioned above), a Boulder-based running coaching I follow and admire. Bobby has helped many athletes become world class runners and surpass their running goals. Say no more, sign me up!

It only took 30 seconds for Paul to see we had some work to do after he assigned me my first drill which he says would “…dramatically improve my running” - SKIPPING! Not like the days of elementary school but rather like Sylvester Stallone in Rocky. With two feet and quick rebounds off the floor. This drill (aka: coordination test) posed a problem – I could hardly get to 15 seconds…my feet didn’t rebound, they stuck. With Paul’s guidance and observations (aka: encouragement and patience), I worked up to 45 seconds by our second session together. My timing and the elasticity in my calves was improving, and I was almost ready to go head to head with Mohammad Ali. My neighbor tells me 4 minutes of skipping is equal to 1 mile of running…I was sold.

My run specific core routine progressed from skipping to glut activation, hip drive strength, posture alignment, and trunk stability was tailored to my weaknesses. Paul even had me agree to diligently incorporate three stretches into the program.

Once my foot was healed, Paul took me to a track for a drills and striders program. Much like our gym encounters, it was quickly evident that this program was really going to help my run performance. After all the running books, videos and articles I have read about running form, every drill Paul introduced was unique (and totally logical) and every move I made was prompted with his cues and coaching until integration was apparent. After a few sessions, my running form has improved dramatically and leaves me only excited to practice the drills and striders more and more. In truth, however, my ability to make change in my form was really only because of doing one-on-one sessions under the skillful eye of Coach PC. Now, I want everyone who loves running to work with Paul so they too can benefit from his expertise. I have no doubt these sessions would elevate their experience of running to new heights.

The final “great” (that I will share) as a result of my injury was how the shift in my racing schedule taught me openness for change. For many weeks in May and June, there was no point in scheduling a race since the time to heal my foot was unknown. It sounds pitiful to even suggest this could cause angst within but in fact it does and it did. While I love to train for sport, I love even more to train for a purpose. For months, I had been preparing for a goal and all of sudden it was removed without a new one to take its place. To be honest, I became a bit obsessed with researching possibilities. I was looking at every race in July: France, Switzerland, Germany, Lake Placid, and the UK. My friends and family had to endure daily phone calls to weigh the options of selecting one race over another.

Once healed and after much thought and indecision, I decided on Ironman Lake Placid, which takes place in the State of New York just two hours from my hometown, Montreal. The trip was booked. New energy could be directed towards this fast approach event.

Since that decision everything has been on fast forward including the decision to sign up for a tune up half ironman race on July 12th – the Vancouver Subaru Half Ironman http://www.lifesport.ca/ . The skilled team of Lance Watson, Paul Regensburg, and John Bothello hosted their third annual Half Ironman on a glorious Vancouver day. The race attracted a superb field of pros and enthusiastic age groupers. I had the pleasure of dining with Christine Cogger (3rd in sprint) and Marie-Anne Prevost (2nd in sprint) from Whistler the night before, sleeping in my own bed, riding on familiar roads, and rejoicing with real friends. A few spectators even commented on my great running form. I didn’t have Paul’s business cards on me but I hope they all read this entry.

Jasper Blake http://www.jasperblake.com/ and I shared the 3rd placed spot on the podium. Jordan Rapp http://www.blog.rappstar.com/ and Magali Tisseyre took home the title while Steve Kilshaw http://www.stevofiveo.blogspot.com/ and Bree Wee http://www.breeweehawaii.blogspot.com/ finished in second place. It was a pleasure to be in the company of such great athletes and instill confidence for double the distance in only a couple short weeks time. More exciting was to witness and congratulate so many of my training buddies place in their division. If I didn’t say it enough on race day, I hope Lifesport continues to host quality local events for our triathlon community.

Since having my injury, I am the ultimate sympathetic ear to anyone I meet whose health isn’t 100%. Words are unavailable to express the mental battle of being “down” when being “up” is the norm. What always brings me back to earth is a quick reminder that one must surrender to the signals of dis-ease (niggles or outright pain) and that this too shall pass. When it does pass, we will be, without a doubt, stronger, humbled, and grateful for the new day.

More from Lake Placid.

C

Cold Feet, By Adam Janke

Take care of your feet in the winter too! By Adam Janke
Most of us have learned to look after our feet during the running season. We go to the local running store and get the best shoes we can. We make sure to replace our shoes every six to twelve months. We use off-the-shelf (OTS) insoles or even custom orthotics if poor biomechanics warrant. But when winter comes around we forget all about it. Why?
Well, it’s not that easy finding the right biomechanical tools for the job when it comes to winter footwear and equipment. This tends to wreck our enjoyment and performance in winter sport. Winter activities that involve weight-bearing and movement similar to running, walking, or hiking such as snowshoeing, snowshoe running, alpine touring, and classic styled cross-country skiing require the same attention to biomechanics. Lesser weight-bearing activities such as hockey, skating, downhill skiing, skate skiing, snowboarding, or anything that involves gliding or downhill gravitational inertia creates different biomechanics but can still offer major discomfort and poor performance if foot biomechanics are ignored.

So what exactly is biomechanics and how does it apply to you? The term is thrown around regularly and loosely in the professional and recreational sporting world and depending on whom you’re dealing with it can mean a wide variety of things. Biomechanics as defined by Webster’s Dictionary is “the mechanics of biological and especially muscular activity (as in locomotion and exercise) . . ..” At the most basic level biomechanics can be defined as the evaluation of sporting technique (e.g., running biomechanics, swim stroke technique, etc.). For the purposes of this article, biomechanics will refer to your skeletal, ligamentous, musculotendinous, and myofascial anatomy and movement tendencies due to this anatomy from a lower limb weight-bearing perspective. Put simply, what happens to the joint and soft-tissue structures in and around your feet, ankles, lower legs, knees, upper legs, and hips when you stand or move?

Why does it matter? Numerous overuse injuries of the lower limbs have been connected to a biomechanical tendency present in a large portion of the population, excessive pronation of the foot, Plantar fasciitis, metatarsalgia, shin pain, patellofemoral pain, iliotibial band syndrome, and other overuse injuries can all be linked to abnormal foot and lower limb biomechanics, depending on the individual. Three effective methods of treating and correcting lower limb biomechanics are choosing proper footwear for your given foot type, using off-the-shelf (OTS) insoles, and, at the most specific level, using custom foot orthotics. These methods are all designed to control excessive foot pronation, commonly referred to as “collapsing arches,” “falling arches,” or, more appropriately, overpronation. It is important to understand that simply correcting the position of the feet and lower limbs is seldom the only solution to addressing a person’s biomechanical needs. There are numerous other variables that must be addressed through the treatment methods of chiropractors, physiotherapists, and registered massage therapists, depending on the individual.

If during the warmer months you require a specific shoe or shoe type that helps stabilize or control your foot, or you use some form of OTS insole in your shoes, or you wear custom foot orthotics for your day-to-day life and activities, then chances are you need similar support or control for your winter sports and activities as well. Not everyone needs some form of insole or orthotic for winter activities, but if you generally need some biomechanical help in the summer, you probably need it in the winter.

Assess the basic structural characteristics of winter sports footwear:
Q: Does the winter shoe or boot possess a strong heel cup or heel counter?
A: Knock on the back of the heel. If it makes a knocking sound, it passes.
Q: Does the winter shoe or boot have a straight last?
A: Look down the length of the shoe for a straight heel to toe alignment.
Q: Is the winter shoe or boot torsionally strong in the mid-foot?
A: If the shoe or boot does not bend, flex, or twist easily at the point immediately under the arch, it passes.
Q: Does this apply to all winter footwear?
A: No. It doesn’t apply to skates, cross-country ski boots, DH/AT/telemark ski boots, or snowboarding boots. For these, pay close attention to fit, lower-limb symptoms of biomechanical deficiency, and address with OTS insoles or see a specialist such as a certified pedorthist.

Adam Janke is a certified pedorthist and owner of Active Orthopaedic. He can be reached at adam@activeorthopaedic.com.

Now What? Saturday, June 13th, 2009

On Monday, May 25th, I got the results of a bone scan that indicated a stress fracture in my navicular foot bone. A world of opportunity opened up for me that day. That new world includes changing my race plans, being adaptable, strengthening weaknesses, and motivating myself in different ways. Most definitely, it means trusting those around me that we need this time to heal and focus solely on what is possible not on what isn’t (such as running). This week in particular, my foot was starting to feel 99.9% better and runable. My physio, Harry Toor, and my Chiropractor and Active Release Therapist, Dr. Tyler Hunsberger, have both insisted we take another full week’s rest before testing the bones. I trust them wholeheartedly and will keep my promise to continue to water run and be patient.

As planned, I did venture over to the Big Island with Steve. It turned out to be a training week of low mileage but frequent swims and bikes. I jumped into the race for the swim and bike hoping to come off close to Belinda Granger and Sam McGlone. In fact, I did and was 4th pro off the bike. I slipped on my shoes and headed out the transition only to stop as I crossed the timing mat. Britni Bakk also raced and secured her coveted Kona spot as the first female in her age category. As a result, Britni will not race Ironman Coeur D’Alene and neither will I due to my foot.

Steve was the ultimate travel companion for this trip. Just home from two weeks in Italy where he was in full tourist mode, lounging by our hotel pool, shuttling me to and from the race and willingly going to bed at 8:30 p.m. was right up his alley. He had nowhere to be, no agenda and no hang-ups. This world needs more people like Steve when it is inundated with people like me. Our hotel overlooked the famous Manta Ray Bay where at night these beautiful marine mammals would come to feed on the florescent plankton lit up by the Sheraton spotlight. Steve organized for us to snorkel and scuba with the Manta Ray one evening. It was spectacular and a highlight of the trip.

Was it hard to DNF the race? Sure it was. But I had come to terms with this decision and knew it was the right decision. I focused on having a strong bike ride and getting in a few other hard training sessions before and after the event. Being in the heat and humidity of Kona was taxing in and of itself. The town was so quiet compared to Ironman week. Kona grew on me even more. Even Steve was amazed by the lava rock and landscape and quickly appreciated the elements that make the Hawaiian Ironman such a difficult event.

Back in Vancouver, the sun is shining, Kits Outdoor Pool is in full swing, and the entire city is seemingly at the beach. My whole focus is to rehab my foot better and have a strong foundation to spring off of. My Chiro, Tyler, has a new Laser Therapy machine in his office, which I have been using everyday for the past week. Research shows that laser therapy increases the rate of cell regeneration and tissue growth. The benefits are seen when treatments are done frequently and consecutively. Obviously this form of therapy if catching on because it is near impossible to get an appointment.

Since I am seeing so much of Tyler these days, he graciously invited me to go mountain biking with he and a friend on the Test of Medal course in Squamish, BC. In keeping with my “fun” perspective, I joined them. I was sure I warned him of my rusty technical skills, that my bike was old with very little suspension and worse yet, it wasn’t a Specialized. I was sure I asked him if this would be a technical ride with logs and rocks and switchbacks and steep drop offs. I was sure he said no it was a single-track cross-country ride and we would ride easy. I didn’t have him sign a letter of understanding but I thought we were speaking the same language. In my humble opinion, the ride and trails were anything but smooth and non-technical. A few scrapes, four hours, hike-a-biking, and badly bruised ego later, we found our way out of the deep woods. Tyler was beyond patient, encouraging and navigating the trails like a pro. His buddy was a smart ass, that was anxious to demonstrate his off road skills and get the ride done as quickly as possible, was another story altogether. Needless to say, we will not be having a second mountain biking experience together. Tyler is willing to ride again with me without an agenda. Yet another testament to what a decent guy he really is. While I must speak to Specialized about getting a mountain bike, it was still one of those days that opened my eyes up to the beauty of sport, testing limits and finding new ways to test of mind and our muscles. Change it up, rattle the cage, fire new fibers, be daring, discover new places through curiosity and be open to the possibility of change. I’m game.

Now what? Still undecided. My options are Ironman Lake Placid on July 26th, Ironman UK on August 2nd or Ironman Canada and Louisiana on August 30th. My instinct is to go somewhere new and explore total newness. My rational side says, find a comfort zone, go where you know the ropes. So I remain undecided but dedicated to the journey. Maybe I’ll end up in an off road triathlon some day?

The Importance of the IM Brand

In September 2008, the owners of the Ironman brand, World Triathlon Corporate (WTC), sold out to an investment firm called Providence Equity, based in Providence, Rhode Island. For a private investment firm to analyze the demographics of Ironman participants and believe there is benefit to owning the marketing rights of the M-Dot brand is a clear testament to the growing popularity and direction of the Ironman distance, as well as the sport of triathlon in general. Hopefully, the only noticeable change from this acquisition will be an enhanced experience for participants, volunteers, spectators, sponsors, onsite retail, the community, local businesses, and the tourism industry. The Ironman is a prosperous brand, with a finely tuned operating machine and growing appeal and availability to the masses.

Prior to the recent acquisition, the Ironman brand spent thirty years morphing into its current presence as the true test of endurance, determination, and perseverance. It first emerged in Waikiki, Hawaii, as an event that could settle the debate over who was the most fit athlete: biker, swimmer, or runner.

Growing intrigue and participation led to the formation of the WTC in 1990, when the Ironman brand was purchased from Valerie Silk, a Hawaiian-based health club owner. Today, there are 21 WTC-sanctioned Ironman-distance events, with qualifying spots to the coveted World Ironman Championships held on the Big Island of Hawaii in October. Adding to the exponential growth of the brand was the introduction of the 70.3 Ironman series, otherwise known as a Half Ironman. This shrewd business decision allowed thousands more athletes to participate in an Ironman-tagged event and potentially qualify for the World Ironman Championships or the newly launched World 70.3 Championships (held in Clearwater, Florida in November).

Regardless of the Ironman brand ownership or M-Dot symbolism, athlete participation should be the ultimate goal. Professionals and amateurs alike share an interest in fostering the development and continued legacy of triathlon, regardless of the IM logo now seen on clothing, athletic equipment, souvenirs, and Timex watches. If offering more accessible events in distance and location with World Champ qualifying slots means an increase in individuals willing to swim, bike and run, travel to beautiful places, spend hard-earned dollars on equipment, accommodations, nutrition and sign on for a new lease on life as a result of the Ironman experience, we should encourage what the savvy WTC and Providence Equity folks are doing.

The Hawaii Tourism Authority released a report in 2000 revealing that the Ironman and the NFL Pro-Bowl (Honolulu) achieve equal status when it comes to global recognition of sporting events held in Hawaii, a direct result of worldwide NBC television coverage viewed by millions of people multiple times a year. The economic impact for the town, city or state hosting an Ironman race could be stretched out to include the entire year. In Hawaii alone, a Department of Business Economic Development and Tourism study concluded that US$14.9 million is pumped in to the island economy over Ironman race dates. If athletes travel to the island in the months prior to the event to train, acclimate or combine some vacation time while learning the race route, this number will likely mushroom by a multiple of two or more. It’s a known fact that the majority of the athletes travel to the race site seven to fourteen days prior to race day to ensure a stress-free taper and mental preparation. And, after such a grueling day mixed with emotion and physical trauma, the local businesses can still reap more economic gains from the athlete-turned-tourist, probably in the mood to indulge!

Over the past thirty years, Ironman-branded events have proven that they represent much more than a 140.6-mile distance. At their heart are the athletes who proudly perform in order to hear the magic words “You Are An Ironman,” proclaimed by the renowned IM announcer Mike Reilly. They tested their human will and ability to endure, not to mention the patience of their families and employers. As the sport continues to grow in popularity, what was once thought to be the exclusive domain of the few exceptionally fit athletes is now becoming a more mainstream endeavour. This evolution of the IM brand is an exciting and natural progression, and encourages participation, longevity and shared experiences.

A Shifting Perspective ~ Friday, May 15, 2009

This is the longest span of time I have ever let pass since 2005 to write a little bit about my adventures of preparing for an endurance event or comical training escapades. A few times I have asked myself why I willingly chose to cease writing for a few months, why I willingly decided to make other activities a priority and what, I wonder, would motivate me to sit down and write again. I recall the internal shift of pulling inwards and losing interest to share via the written word for others to see, read, and perhaps judge. This shift came right after Ironman Canada 2008. My parents, along with some friends, Britni and Warren Bakk, graciously came to experience the Penticton event unfold – a race I have now done six times. As like most of us, I can now see that something was not right from the get-go - my body was not “clicking.” Maybe I had raced too much already, many I was tired, maybe I was over excited to have my parents watch, or maybe I was just not that into the race? Regardless, it came, went, and made me a stronger person and athlete as a result. Having both my parents there was a real treat and I am hopeful they will come to a few more.

Shortly after Ironman Canada, I had an interesting discussion with an acquaintance that has watched me train and race from afar over the years. He asked if he could make a few suggestions to help my performance (in his opinion). Since I was more intrigued than anything, I spent a considerable amount of time sharing my experiences with this person and listening to his feedback and input. Sometimes a distant observer can offer the most accurate perspective. It was at this point when I decided to operate a bit more internally and keep many of my thoughts to myself until I was ready again to put words on paper. I went on that September to race in the Sooke Half Ironman (http://www.lifesport.ca/) where I place a stunning 2nd next to up and coming talent Haley Cooper.

For most of September and October, I traveled over to Victoria on the weekends to prepare for Ironman Arizona. This was an intense block of high mileage training with Steve Kilshaw and Jasper Blake who were preparing for the same race. Together, we toughed out the Pacific Northwest weather and bonded through epic rides up and down the Patricia Bay Highway. Again, always smarter after the fact, I may have pushed my needle a bit too much during that block and arrived at Ironman Arizona with lingering fatigue which caught up with me on the run. I finished up in the top 10 and ended my season fulfilled and ready for a break from structure.

Another major change was to start working with Client Lien as my coach. Clint is based in Victoria, BC and close friends with Lori Bowden and Peter Reid amongst a multitude of other triathlete types around the world. He once coined himself a competitive athlete but now revels in working with others, sharing his knowledge and passion as a coach, mentor, and the ultimate motivator. Clint’s personality, disposition, and temperament really jives with my character. He is a laid back guy all the while stirring up some great training blocks, encouraging smart efforts and recovery practices. He doesn’t over analyze any situation but is astute enough to read into the subtleties of a training log, conversation, or lagging swim times. Better yet, his interest in his athletes is unconditional, meaning one’s performance or fitness level does not correlate with their worth. His athletes are first and foremost highly valued individuals with depth and integrity. At a very distant second, they are seeking to do their best in sport under his guidance. Clint willingly, without arrogance I might add, gives back to the sport through his endless hours of swim coaching, group rides, and coached track sessions. On occasion I asked myself where this sport be if we didn’t have dedicated people like Clint encouraging a thriving community of participation. And furthermore, do we acknowledge these efforts? Surely the volunteer or coach is putting in the effort because they love what they do and are not looking for validation but it never hurts to express one’s appreciation. As I head out solo for my ride and run I often refer back to Clint’s efforts with admiration, gratitude and respect.

December quickly became January or so it seemed. I was well recovered from any fall racing or training and ready for something different from years past to build my fitness back over the winter months. On January 1st, the stars aligned while snowshoeing up Mont Tremblant. In minus 30 temperatures, my friend and guide, Louis Ludwig, and I were sweating buckets. As my heart rate soared and my lungs burned, there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather have been. And so it was - for the winter months, Nordic skiing and snowshoeing were the sports of choice with only a small amount of running, biking and swimming sprinkled in. The white snow, blue sky, and view from the mountaintop spoke volumes and were timely reminders of how small and meaningless we all are. On many occasions, I was overwhelmed with appreciation and a sense of privileged for these experiences. For some reason the training effects felt a distant second to the main benefit.

On February 22nd, I raced in the Whistler Nordic Ski Loppet that covered 30 km and most of the Nicholas North Golf Course. Being a timid Nordic racer, I started at the back (sound familiar to all you non swimmers?) and let the “fast” girls go. Big mistake. After the first climb, I was stuck behind those that had a good sprint but no endurance. The fun part was herringboning (skis in a “V” quite similar to scrambling up a hill) through others in the narrow trails while working my way into the top 10. Upon finishing this excursion, I realized why Nordic Skiers tend to have the highest V02 max levels of most athletes. Every muscle in the body gets worked with no reprieve.

This race seemed to mark the shift away from winter sports back towards the traditional swimming, biking and running. Fortunately, my dedicated training partner, Britni Bakk, and I were able to link in for some indoor computrainer sessions. We’d set up, as we have for a few years going now, in my unfinished makeshift garage, with a new itunes playlist and some concoction of intervals to pass the time. We were purposefully both on track for Ironman 70.3 California on April 4th, Ironman 70.3 Honu on May 31st followed by Ironman Coeur D’Alene on June 21st.

In my logbook, my training seemed to be coming along and California was scheduled as a season opener to get the cylinders firing. Now that it is over, it was the platform I needed to practice the mental, physical, and organizational steps for my 2009 racing season. From the travel, taper, preparation, transition, and raw exposure during a race, I was left hungry for more after crossing the finish line. As it turned out, the highlight was not the race; it was my travel companion (and second mom), Roslyn Boniface, and our accommodations in Fallbrook, San Diego. The Grierson’s (Jackie & Dennis) are long time golfing companions of my parents from Montreal who have made Southern California their home. They graciously opened the doors of their “guest house” for Ros and I, making us feel like we’d landed in heaven. Perched on top of the rolling hills overlooking endless acres of vineyards and avocado orchards, their home can be likened to a sanctuary. We lounged on their deck with a miniature putting green, infinity pool and mindless magazines at our disposal. Roslyn brought her golf clubs and planned to play at a local golf course while I was resting. As her luck would have it, the Grierson’s already had golf games lined up and included Ros in their foursome at one of the most prestigious courses in Southern California, Pauma Valley Golf Course.

Roslyn was a brilliant wingman and awoke at the crack of dawn to join me on race day. I left her in the very capable hands of Clint and his social crew. Amazingly enough, Jackie and her daughter, Cassandra, arrived just in time for the final stretch of the run. As a memento and expression of our thanks, I left behind my “hat” (a.k.a. helmet), as Jackie liked to call it, a term she will never live down.

My attitude towards specificity training started to shift after the California trip. I was, and still am, open to the workload and dedication to lift my fitness for Honu and Coeur D’Alene. Up until this point, I had been maintaining consistent training and following my program but willingly diverting from the structure of “specificity” in favour of fun, social, or a different sport. I’d maybe opt for a road ride instead of a triathlon ride if it meant I could ride with a group. Or perhaps I would participate in the masters swimming workout when Clint had suggested a straight 4000-meter set. I figured there were a million ways to get fit and if option B was more appealing than option A, I was game. Playtime and sharing experiences with others were (and still are) a high priority for me. Despite adding more structure, I am still of this playful mindset but practice it with a bit more consideration. My roadie friends will have to endure riding with me whilst I am on my TT bike.

It is almost one week until I leave for Hawaii. Steve Lafave, my surrogate brother, is joining me for the race. He’ll be a wonderful energy to have as company and always keep things light and fun. This race is very low priority since we have had two four-week “builds” in the past six weeks. The first two “build” weeks were daunting on paper and approached with trepidation. I sailed through the training (and intensity) without draining the tank dry…until the final two days. The final 48 hours were painful. I was done. Almost to the point of declaring “dysfunctional.” The upside was that I was granted a full week’s recovery prior to starting the second build.

Now in the middle of a second build, I have rediscovered the roads of Whistler and Pemberton. Whistler, an international resort destination for winter and summer travelers, is home of the 2010 Winter Olympic Games. The Sea to Sky community is bustling as they prepare to welcome the onslaught of international visitors and athletes next February. Until then, it is a training haven equipped with arduous mountain climbs, endless rural roads, soft packed technical trails, a 25-meter swimming pool, icy lakes for post training sessions and best of all, some great training partners.