POULSEN RACING

First off i would like to appoligize for my last blog the spelling was terrible, most likely because i had a glass of wine after a race in which i bonked so horribly. I had to try the wine as i
was at Vineman. A few things first before i talk about training, this in the news, very sad: Vino caught blood doping you can read the report at the link on the bottom of this blog.

Next off i am going to add my homestays race report from Vineman, it is a great read and is very motivating, and unless i get hit by a mack truck i am going to make it my goal to finish every race i complete even if it is a bad day. Side note, Thanks Dano you will have to show me how to add peoples blogs to the side so i can throw yours on there i dont know how to do anything on here. I will chat ya at nationals for sure. Cheers.



Vineman 2007: "Regroup and Refocus"
I am sitting here today still bleeding after completing what was one of the hardest physical undertakings of my life. Despite a day riddled with Murphy-the man kept following me around--and unexpected challenges, I managed to successfully complete my eight month journey and finished my first 70.3 Ironman! Not only did I finish but I met my goal time spot on, and left nothing out on the course save for some skin, blood, a
little bit of pride, and a pair of sunglasses. Read on for the gory
details... :-)
"Go-day" was an early start with a 3:45AM wake-up. Brent Poulsen, the bad-ass professional triathlete from Canada who was staying with me, had a 6:25AM start time. We needed to be at the race sight early for some warm up. We arrived at the Johnson's Beach a little before 5AM in the dark. Except for some of the other professional athletes and the volunteers no one was there. I can say that I was a neat experience for me to be so close to the athletes who grace the covers of the magazines.
It was wild walking into the transition area with my bike while Michellie Jones, the current Women's Full Ironman World Champion comes
jogging past me on her warm up run. Even crazier for me to think about
is that she was going to spend about half the time on the course as I was.
I had a lot of time to set up and take it all in as I was in swim wave
#6 which did not start until 7:10AM. So, I spent the time stretching, and running around a bit and generally trying to look intimidating and that I knew what I was doing ("look" being the key word there!) I must admit, when I am in uniform complete with body markings I feel like I do look somewhat authentic. Hopefully my friends here will vouch for me!
Finally after months of hard preparation the announcement was made that swim wave #6 would start in 10 minutes. In a way it was hard to believe that my goal race was only 10 minutes away. Even when I sit here today typing this report, it is still hard to describe the excitement. The best I can say is that the excitement level was very much like the gymnastics days leading up to a big competition.
I was already on the beach when my wave announcement was made. I pulled up my wetsuit, donned my royal blue swim cap, and with goggles in hand
made my way through the starting gates and into the water. Unlike the
Wildflower race earlier this year Vineman is a water start instead of a shore start. Luckily the wetsuits add buoyancy. It was kind of funny when I turned around and saw a sea of little blue swim caps bobbing up and down in the water. Comment of the morning from the guy floating next to me: "we must look like a bunch of giant, blue condoms floating up and down out here". We all laughed and then the horn sounded and we were off.
The swim part went well for me. I ended up swimming slow and steady as this was only my second open water experience. I still have fears of starting out with fury and then running out of gas in the middle of the water. I don't think that this would really happen but I admittedly have not done many threshold miles in the pool to test myself here.
So, I stuck to my plan of slow and steady. This time out I also wanted to be right in the middle of the pack instead of at the back to get a real experience of having loads of athletes swimming around me. I am proud to say that I am no longer intimidated by this. I did my share of swimming over top of, elbowing, and kicking people. It was awesome! I really didn't have much concept how far 1.2 miles of swimming is. In the pool it is easy because I can count my laps and do the math in my head-gives me something to do. But, in the open water I find that I don't have much concept for time or distance. All I remember is that after what seemed like an unbelievable amount of time swimming, I thought was at the turn-around buoy only to find that I had to keep going straight. Finally, I made it to the turn-around and was on my way home. I did pick up the pace on the second leg of the swim. I finished strong and ran out of the water to my bike where the fun began...
The bike transition was like a comedy act for me. I must have looked ridiculous while desperately trying to find the cord to my wetsuit zipper. I was spinning around in circles like a dog chasing its tail with my arms flailing over my head. Note to self for next time: fold up the chord and secure it in the Velcro neck piece of the wetsuit so you can easily find it. So much for a quick T1 swim-bike transition.
After spinning in circles and getting my wetsuit unzipped, I then took a header while trying to pull it off my waist. I lost my balance, fell in the gravel and was then on my back violently yanking with all my might
at my left leg. Yes folks, there is nothing intimidating about me, I
really don't know what I am doing but at least I am having fun! It is too bad that no body got this whole scene on video (or maybe someone did and I will be in next week's You-Tube top 5.) The wetsuit was somehow stuck on the timing chip which was wrapped around my ankle. I managed to calm down and get it sorted out and separated myself from the wetsuit. I threw the wetsuit on the rack, gave it a stern stare and mumbled "until next time" and I was off. I was hopeful that my clown act in T1 would be the roughest part of the day. Little did I know what was in store for me a few seconds ahead.
I ran out of the transition area, to the bottom of a short hill, got on my bike only to find that my bike was in a monster gear and that I could not possible peddle it up this hill. Note to self: always make sure bike is in easy gear before racking. Meanwhile I look over and see Liz and Ilyce smiling at me and giving me the thumbs up while I look like a complete moron trying to get on the bike. I did manage to get on and get my feet clipped in while narrowly escaping falling down several times. (for those who are not cyclists, there is nothing more embarrassing than not being able to unclip from your peddles and just helplessly falling over when you stopped) I slowly pump my way up this short hill. I think that all my problems are over. I am up the hill.
I can breathe and start to go. Well, I am still getting situated on my bike at this point and am not "in the moment" yet. I am just starting to pick up some speed and I glance down at my chain ring to see where I am. I look up only to find that I am heading straight for a curb!
Damn! I managed to bounce off the curb, knock my chain off and found myself for the first time on the ground. How embarrassing. The bike race really hadn't even begun yet and I have already fallen off. I should have known that it was a foreshadow of things to come. The day was just not starting out well and it was the first of many times when I said to myself "no problem. Regroup and refocus and move on." Lucky for me, I managed embarrass myself right in front of a NorCal Bike Mechanic. He can running over and put my chain back on in record time,
did a quick once over on my bike and sent me on my way. Then, the fun
really began.
I am still in disbelief on how fast I raced the bike course despite the setbacks. I guess my calculated nutrition plan that Brent helped me put together and my new aerobars were really working. I literally ended up going 3 miles per hour faster than on any of my training rides. I averaged 19.2 mph for 56 miles! I just can't put into words how pleased I am about this (and I could have gone faster!) I am now actually wondering if the spectators could even see me or if I was just a blur!
I was passing everyone and not getting passed a lot in the meantime.
Everything felt great. I was really enjoying the ride. I actually didn't want it to end. I had never been so comfortable and in the zone
on the bike as I was on Sunday. I think that I passed about 50 people
while climbing Canyon Road. Everything was going great and then disaster. I just entered Alexander Valley and had covered about 35 miles. I was on a flat, long straight away and really cranking hard.
Then, without warning, I was down in a baseball slide on my side, leaving a trail of skin and blood on the pavement behind me. I was a little bit in shock when I stopped sliding. But, in true Lance Armstrong fashion, did a quick self and bike assessment, determined that we were both very lucky and OK. I said to myself again, "Regroup, refocus, and move on" and was off. I was back on the bike and peddling furiously while profusely swearing at myself. I again passed everyone who passed me while I was down all while leaving a trail of blood, and somewhere my sunglasses, behind me.
I finished the bike in awesome fashion. I was estimating starting the run about 11:20AM. Despite my challenges, I was out of T2 at 10:52!
Unbelievable! I felt so good. The most memorable part about running out of T2 was seeing the look on the spectator's faces as I came running by with my very bloody left arm-which was at the time freshly dripping again with each arm swing. I had more people pointing at me the facial expressions were priceless. It was great. I felt like a warrior in a battle.
I ran my first mile in 8:38. I really surprised by this as I was not pushing myself. I jest felt really good. I immediately backed off to
8:45 in mile two and then 9:00 in mile three. My strategy was to run the first half in 9 minute miles and the second half in about 10 minute miles. Things were going well but it was hot-and I mean hot. The temperature still was not sinking in yet. I said to myself "I have this in the bag. I am going to easily run this in and absolutely crush my goal time." I was on pace to break 6 hours which would be unreal for a big first race! This was the kiss-of-death thought and could not have been farther from the truth. For those of you who have never participated in an endurance event, let me tell you it is amazing how fast things can turn for the worst. Within a mile of my positive thought about finishing, my world started to rapidly crumble around me.
I began to think about the heat, I was actually drinking way too much and not the right stuff. I was cramping up and I felt dangerously overheated. There was no escaping the sun on the run course. We were totally exposed to 95 degrees, cloudless skies, and zero wind for all 13 miles. It was like running in an oven. You could actually see the heat radiating up from the black asphalt. I tried to take my mind off of the heat by thinking cold thoughts. In fact, I began to envision everyone on the course as penguins and that we were running in Antarctica. No dice. Although it was funny envisioning a bunch of Emperor penguins in triathlon uniforms waddling down the street. Had the race gone on for much longer than 13 miles I would have definitely hallucinated this scene! In the end, I ended up walking/shuffling about 40% of the course. I was very fit to run (just completed a 1:53 training half marathon 4 in Alaska weeks ago) but I was totally unprepared for the heat and did not have a proper nutrition plan. This is a BIG note-to-self for next time.
The run course provided me with some of most painful miles of my life.
I could barely run let alone walk due to cramping. I desperately wanted out of the sun, and I had virtually nothing left in me--the gas tank was empty. Luckily for me, Brent came and found me at aid station 8 and rode his bike next to me for a few miles while offering encouragement and advice. (He is a stud and finished in a little over 4 hours in the professional wave--and qualified for World Champhionships! Way to go
Brent--I expect podium in November!) My bloody arm, of all things,
apparently was an inspiration to others. Several people walked with me for a while and made comments like "Seeing you gives me and attitude adjustment. You're an inspiration. I thought I was having a bad day."
Well people, glad I could help. Let's raise the roof for Tom and his bike crash!
The last mile: I started to run again at mile 12 after having
completely walked the previous 2 miles. Let me say that I was sort of running. I couldn't really flex my right foot because my calf was cramping badly; my hamstrings were shot. But, I was still going to do this and "run" it in. Again, when I got close to the school and finish line I became a big conversation piece to the gawking spectators. This time I was not looking so strong, was covered in dried blood on my left side, was half limping/running, and looked real strung out. It was never a better sight to see the finish line. I slowly ran through it raised my arms in victory. I could barely walk. I badly needed food and I felt like I was a few steps away from completely hitting the deck.
The best thing about finishing-other than finally being done-was seeing
my friends at the finish line. Luckily Liz was volunteering at the
finish line. She immediately saw me, grabbed me and I literally collapsed on her. I wanted to cry but was really not capable of producing any tears. The only moisture running down my face was from the cold water being sponged on my head and neck. Many thanks Liz for supporting my dead weight and ensuring that I didn't end up face down on the finish line. My other friend Leigh was there with cold waters and a PowerBar recovery shake. Let me tell you, that the PowerBar recovery shake was like getting shot of adrenalin. Within a minute of ingesting I felt human and coherent again. I had my photo taken in front of the Ironman backdrop and it was off the medical tent to cleaned up. As I was being escorted to the medical tent, one of Liz's friends called to ask how I did. I overheard Liz saying, "I'm really not sure how he did.
We haven't talked yet. He literally just finished. He collapsed into my arms. He's really bloody and we're taking him to medical." I smiled at her answer as I slowly ambled to the tent and thought, "I did great.
This warrior battled valiantly today and finished with no regrets. I have survived and will come back next year to battle again." I will learn from this experience and next year I will run this course 1 hour faster and will finish in the top 50 in my age group. Enough said.
Overall synopsis: WOW! Triathlon is an amazing sport. It demands your all and then asks for more. I gave it my entire effort on Sunday and finished under my own power. I have been searching for years to find a hobby to replace the void of gymnastics and I believe that I have finally found it. This race is not an end point but rather a beginning for me. I do plan to continue racing, making friends, and using this as a new vehicle and excuse to see the world. I know that I'll never be as fast as the professionals but this sport for me is not about racing others but about racing yourself; constantly pushing your own personal boundaries and limits, making new friends, and inspiring others along the way. I have managed to do all of this over the past eight months and am looking forward to more of it in the future. Now it's time again to regroup and refocus...
Thanks to all for the kind thoughts and words of encouragement over the past few months. The next big race report will begin with "I crossed the finish line feeling good..." :-)
Tom


http://www.velonews.com/tour2007/details/articles/12910.0.html