Travel Tuesday: San Francisco (Golden Gate Overlook)

A series of stories & tips about training & traveling. 
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Four miles from my house in the heart of The City. It’s easy to draw inspiration in San Francisco.

Travel is great for so many reasons –  expanding our perspective, trying new things, learning about other ways of life, adventure or relaxation. But sometimes the best way to recharge is with a solid staycation. And that’s exactly what’s on tap for Travel Tuesday this week.

I’ve lived in San Francisco for over seven years now, as many years as square miles in the city. I’ve covered most of that by bike or foot and let me tell you, a lot happens in that 7x7mi space. World class parks, like Golden Gate, Presidio and Crissy Field, provide a wealth of gorgeous outdoors almost impossible to imagine in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city.

And that’s precisely why there’s no reason someone visiting San Francisco should go for a run in a stop light interrupted, overcrowded street outside their hotel. Heck, sometimes it’s easy for residents to fall into their routine and forget how fulfilling it is to run in these parks!

If you have time for one run in San Francisco, incorporate the Golden Gate Overlook on the Coastal Trail into your mileage. I recommend this because if you run shorter distances, it’s easier to park a rental car or get a Lyft to the Golden Gate Bridge parking lot. If you’re looking for a longer run, it’s a 5mi one way from Union Square via Crissy Field. My favorite is to start from gate at Presidio and Pacific and enjoy The Presidio on one of its signature mystic mornings. I’ve linked that route here:

Presidio run to Coastal Trail (8.7mi)

While it’s true that the views and San Francisco are tough to beat, anywhere I’ve lived or traveled to, I’ve found favorite tracks that put my mind at ease as I cruise through. What are some of your favorite “back pocket” runs in your hood? Leave a reply below!

Race Report: Ironman 70.3 Santa Rosa (DNF)

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I charged my battery, but that’s none of my business

Can you write a race report if you only get 27% of the way through the bike before pulling out? Maybe this is more of a race blurb. Or perhaps I could write a sonnet. Well, whatever  this is, it’s pretty short and sweet, but plans moving forward are at the end so read along to get the latest!

This past Saturday morning, circa 7:03am, I knew I was in trouble. I’d just completed the swim in the cold, but way more bearable than expected, Lake Sonoma and run up the crazy steep, even longer than expected, transition to my bike.

I’d taken measures against the 45 degree air by putting a long sleeve jersey over my wet body.

I took my first few pedal strokes and my legs felt ready to roll, not to be taken for granted after a swim.

And then, after the small hill out of transition, I clicked my electronic shifter to shift over to “big ring.*” Nothing.

I clicked again and again and the bike wouldn’t shift. I, of course, charged the bike before the race, so I was shocked at the first sign of a low battery, a dead front derailleur. Especially after working with mechanics to diagnose and fix battery draining components weeks prior.

This was the internal thought process that led up to the decision to drop, for this blog post narrated by Morgan Freeman:

0.25mi: “Ok, the next two miles are down hill. Tuck, bomb, get to the bottom and get off the bike to change it with your hands.”

2.25mi: “I don’t think you can change electronic derailleur with your hands.”

2.26mi: (click, click) “Ok, time to spin your legs as fast as you can to keep tension and salvage a bike split and deliver yourself to the run.”

4mi: (going up hill) “Not so bad, maybe this is possible!”

5mi: (going down hill) “Crap. Most of this course is downhill or flat.”

15mi: “Yeah, spinning like a maniac and watching the race pass you is kind of dumb. At this rate I’ll be done about 30min slower than expected. Last option, does this aid station have mechanical support? No? Time to pull the plug.”

And with that pun, I rolled with my teammate Brad KS who’d dropped with a chest cold, to the next town where a gracious family of spectators gave us a ride back to Santa Rosa.

I’ve learned a couple of reasons why my battery could have drained in 36 hours. I’ve put them at the bottom of this post.

While it’s a major bummer that when I was fit and ready, I wasn’t able to race this big local race against such a talented field and my teammates, I realize things happen and like the cramping at Oceanside a month prior, it’s all part  of racing. It was great to cheer so many teammates onto podium performances.

But since we’ve had a tough start to the season with duds at the first two races, I’ve made the decision to race Chattanooga this Sunday, May 21. We’ll have a lot of guys there, it’s the site of 2017 Worlds and it’s a chance to put this fitness to work. Hopefully I’ll be smiled upon by the racing gods for good race luck.

Thanks to everyone for the kind messages, sponsors for the support, Dani for being in my corner and all my teammates for the inspirational finishes to light that fire.

 

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Podium studs enjoying some suds

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Reasons Di2 electronic could have lost charge:

  • How the bike was stored in the back seat of the car
  • Break cabling work week before race could have knocked something loose
  • Cold temperatures over night
  • In transition, something pressed or if the bike was knocked over ttriggering  the system response to freeze the gearing

Race Recap: Ironman 70.3 California (aka Oceanside aka Cramp City)

They don’t call it Oceanside for nothin. Thanks, Jen, for the photo!

I do well with consistency. I’m not sure if it’s nature or nurture, but let’s just say you can’t wake up at 4:30 for workouts without it. So in the spirit of that consistency that athletes hold so dear, I had a melt down in my first Ironman 70.3 of 2017, just like last year (though that was more of a freeze out).

Yes, Oceanside 70.3 didn’t go as planned. That might be putting it lightly. I was laying in someone’s front lawn putting ice down my pants at mile three of the run. It was a mess. But unlike last year’s bout with hypothermia, I was able to grit and bare my way to a finish. I even ran a few miles with Andy Potts! Keep reading to find out how I went from front lawn to finish line.

(Here’s my Instagram – press follow to see more pics of me doing exercise)

First thing’s first…

Let’s get something out of the way: I was not having the race of my life only to be foiled by cramps on the run. Even though it was the new rolling swim start*, I swam the same (slow) 31min I’ve swam for the last two years. The first half of the bike felt great! The second half I could not attack on the climbs as I would/can/planned.

Consequently I got off my bike further behind the competition and really needed a stellar run to salvage a result. Instead of panicking, that’s exactly what I planned to do.

 

Some of these splits are not like the others…zapped by massive leg cramps.

 

Cramps…what’s the big deal anyway?

A fun fact about me is that I’ve never cramped in a race before. I mean, I’ve “been crampy” before, pressing my stomach up into my ribs while running to get rid of side stitches. But I’m not sure I ever understood how cramps could be so debilitating.

Oh, I get it now…

After feeling my way through the first two miles I started to turn up the intensity, only to feel my lower back tighten. I stopped at the aid station just before mile 3 to loosen it up and both abductors (inner thighs) went off like car alarms, sending me to the ground.

The volunteers at aid station 3 were great, bringing me bananas, pretzels, oranges, water and Gatorade (which I politely declined**). They brought ice, which I put down my pants and on my core. I rubbed the cramps, I stretched, I prayed. I did it all.

If you’ll recall, I didn’t have a second to spare on this run, so as this continued, I realized my race goals were donezo and for a second I thought about quitting. But that second came and went, and my new goal was to finish. Not for a podium spot, but for the volunteers who were rushing around to help me, the spectators who cheered when I stood up, for the team name EVERY MAN JACK plastered all over me, and finally for me – to leave the race stronger, wiser, and sure that I’m not a pansy.

Getting up, falling, and getting up again

As I shuffled away from the aid station thinking about how much ten miles was “gonna suuuuck,” Andy Potts came running by on his way to the finish. Of course the natural thought for anyone who just writhing on the ground would be to run with an Olympian and Ironman Champion, so that’s what I did. I could tell Andy was perhaps having an off day, so in a way we were helping each other out; it’s amazing how much better you can feel being pushed by someone vs. suffering solo, something visible in mile splits 4 and 5 above.

As Andy peeled off to finish, I turned up the hill for lap two and had there not been a railing lining the course, this would have been me:

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The abductors blew out for good this time and I came to a halt, grabbing the railing, and inching forward. A spectator told me I needed to walk or it would get worse, so that’s what I did. Then I began to jog. Then run. The objective for the rest of the run was to run just beneath the point of “cramp explosion,” which I was able to do while slightly building mile by mile.

As I crossed the finish, turned to give the crowd an applause; they spent their free Saturday morning standing in the sun willing a crampy gimp to the finish. Respect.

So what was it that caused the cramps?

I really wish I knew. As athletes we love to point to that “one thing” and say, “Aha! I will fix that and move forward!” But the reality is that I have a handful of theories ranging from fitness, to equipment, to health, to nutrition that I will discuss with my coach, Matt Dixon and the purplepatch crew. Having a coach and/or trusted, knowledgeable sounding board is really important to learn from situations like this and I’m fortunate to be surrounded by smart folks to get it fixed before Santa Rosa.

Thank you

Thanks to all my friends and family, teammates and sponsors who showed their support! It goes an especially long way on days like this. See you at Santa Rosa!

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* Ironman installed a new “rolling start” to the swim, which was a self seeded time trial start. This was great for the faster athletes to get out in the front of the race and while I wasn’t able to capitalize on it in the water, made the rest of the race much more enjoyable. I hope they adopt this moving forward!

** I cannot drink Gatorade, or other sport drinks, especially during intense efforts. I’ve thrown up while cycling and running after drinking it (Muncie), my stomach just can’t handle all of the sugar and food dyes. Sometimes it makes sense not to make a bad situation worse.