Who Knew?

Another great tip from the GWTC Discussion List -- this one comes from Andrea's friend and running partner, Sandra:

While running this morning in Killearn, a police officer stopped and advised Andrea and I that it was against the law to run in the street if there was a sidewalk. Well, guess what: it is true.

Florida Statute 316.130(3) states, "Where sidewalks are provided, no pedestrian shall, unless required by other circumstances, walk along and upon the portion of a roadway paved for vehicular traffic." You can receive a $15 ticket if you do this.

Florida Statute 316.130(4) says that if sidewalks are not provided, "... when practical, walk only on the shoulder on the left side of the roadway in relation to the pedestrian's direction of travel, facing traffic which may approach from the opposite direction..."

There is a 27-page publication which outlines the Florida Pedestrian Law Enforcement Guide. So now you know. Have a great run on the sidewalk or a dirt road.

Safety First, Training Second

Terrible news came from Cary, NC, this week, where a female runner was abducted and murdered. Read the story here.

The GWTC Discussion List email contained some great safety tips today, so I wanted to pass them along to you:

1. Vary your running route often, even if this means running clockwise rather than counter-clockwise.
2. If running early or late (in the dark), try to find a running partner or adopt a dog that would enjoy a good daily run.
3. If possible, let someone know when you run and where (e.g., if you don't show up for work, a close colleague may know where to tell police to look for you).
4. Always run with your cellphone handy, turned on and programmed with an emergency code and GPS enabled.
5. Stay aware of your surroundings - if you run with headphones, keep the music low so you can hear an approaching runner or bicyclist (yes, bicyclist - in Tucson, AZ, there was a guy who was grabbing women as he rode by them on his bike).
6. Carry a whistle or noisemaker but do NOT wear this on a chain around your neck. A neck chain is easy to grab and strangle you with.
7. Make a mental note of public telephones (which are rare these days) and nearby businesses/homes that appear occupied at that hour; do not hesitate to run to such a place and even throw a rock through a window to set off an alarm if you believe this will scare away your attacker (the window can be fixed).
8. If you run with a water belt, it would be wise to carry a pen and paper to write down anything, including a license plate, if you feel threatened by anyone in any way (you can do this with a cellphone by taking a photo).
9. If you are comfortable doing so, run with a weapon and more importantly be prepared to use it (gun, knife, mace).
10. Take a self-defense course and again, be prepared to use the moves you are taught.

But most importantly, you guys: use your head! Be smart -- don't go running by yourself in the dark in some remote area (I'm looking at you people who run at Overstreet by yourselves). My dad always taught me that the best defense against danger is not putting yourself in danger in the first place.

The Bike Whisperer

I have achieved a major milestone in my life as a cyclist. I've come-of-age, if you will. I've been tested by the road and I have not been found wanting.

I have changed a flat tire.

Or tyre, if you are Emma.

No, this girl-becomes-woman event did not occur roadside (blast!), but rather in the sweaty safety of my back patio. As I was unpacking from my trip to Marianna, after returning home from the Freedom Springs Triathlon (where I finished second -- don't know if you heard), I found that my front tire had mysteriously flattened.

Armed with the skills I acquired at my one and only bike workshop, I got down to business. Only ten minutes and three swear words later, I had a good-as-new tire!

Yay me. But I really hope I never have to do that in a race. Or anywhere away from home. Or ever again.

You never know...

...who you will meet at the pool at 5:30 a.m. Normally too groggy to speak and focused on the task at hand (swimming), we early-bird regulars rarely speak. That really is a shame, though, because it stands to reason that if we share the common insanity that swimming year-round at an outdoors pool before sunrise requires, then we probably have more in common. Or, at least, we have other unique and quirky characteristics.

Take my new friend, for example.

Mustachioed Swimmer: We must be crazy to be out here at this hour.
Me: Crazy is being out here in February.
MS: Well, in my line of work, we're all a little crazy.
Me: What line of work is that?
MS: Computer systems maintenance...IT.
Me: Yeah, that's a job requirement for that industry, isn't it?
MS: (chuckles) Yeah. And I'm a blacksmith on the weekends.

How many of you have met a real, bona fide blacksmith? He even offered to make a tomahawk and teach me to throw it!

Lesson here, kids: talk to the person in the lane next to you. They might offer to teach you to throw a tomahawk.

The Secret to Placing 2nd in Your Age Group...

...find a small race. That's right -- I completed triathlon #2 on July 4 and finished 2nd in my age group! Trophy and all. Woo hoo!

The 2008 Freedom Springs Triathlon was a very sweet non-USAT-sanctioned race. Banjo-accompanied highlights included:
1) jumping from a floating dock into chest-deep spring water, alive with a mixture of muck, plants and God-knows-what at the bottom
2) sudden panic as the race director shouts, "Okay, go!" five minutes too early as half of the field is still trying to wade to the start line/area/random unspecified place in the water
3) bleeding feet as a result of sprinting across loose gravel between the swim and transition
4) insistance by race director's wife that the delay for the awards ceremony "is not as bad as last year," as everyone is still waiting hours after race is over

I'm sorry for the complaints. I shouldn't be such a snob after only two triathlons. I suppose I was spoiled by the Red Hills Triathlon, which I felt was very well-organized despite (or perhaps because of) the terrible weather they had to deal with.

Freedom Springs has a lot going for it. Held in a very rural county in North Florida, it has a laid-back quality that makes it perfect for first-timers and mid-to-back-of-the-packers. And I won an award! The transition was nice and open, and the bike/run courses very scenic and quiet.

I would recommend this to local athletes (it's certainly nothing to travel much distance for) -- as long as you can deal with the laid-back-to-a-fault nature of the race.

In related news, congratulations to Jennifer, Andrea and Nikki, for completing their first triathlons!

My Tri Training Partners

I just got this photo, taken just before the Red Hills Triathlon, from Emma. What a good-looking training group she, Cathy and I make!

Training to Ruin a Marathon

From theonion.com:

I'm Training To Ruin A Marathon
By Paul Consella

When I set my mind to something, there's no turning back, no slowing down, and no excuses. So when I heard about the upcoming 17th Annual Richland County Marathon, I started training immediately. For the last four months, I have been pushing myself to the brink of exhaustion to prepare my mind and body for the ultimate physical challenge: ruining a marathon.
I'm going to ruin the whole thing.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Sure, everyone would like to ruin a marathon, but who among us has the discipline and energy to get up at the crack of dawn morning after morning, through rain, sleet, and snow, and practice handing out cups of vinegar to the frontrunners? Me, that's who. Yes, there are some mornings when it's darn near impossible to keep going—when you feel like you just can't chip one more pothole in the course with a pickax. But endurance ruining is all about pushing through the pain. And when the big day comes, and you make it over that final hurdle, dodge the cops, and shove an old guy into the bushes, you'll know all that training was worth it.

Granted, I've never taken on anything of this magnitude before. Oh, I used to ruin cross-country meets back in high school. And there was that father-son fun ruin I did back in '06, of course, but that was just for charity. If I'm going to needlessly sabotage a full 26.2 miles of road, I have to make sure I'm at the top of my game. No ifs, ands, or buts.

That's why I like to start off my training day bright and early with a full breakfast of espresso, some diet pills, and a small bag of rock candy. It keeps me edgy and volatile when I'm in the thick of disrupting a tight race. Also—and I can't stress this enough—it's very important to stretch properly before and after yelling derogatory remarks at Kenyans. You don't want your legs cramping up on the way to the escape route.

Training rituals like this may seem tiresome and pointless now, but trust me: When you're two hours into terrorizing a highly anticipated marathon, they make all the difference in the world.

After you've been ruining a marathon for a couple hours, your body will just take over and you won't even realize that you're spoiling the day for everyone. I call that getting in the "ruiner's zone." It's like my arms and legs could just keep dumping buckets of cooking oil off a highway overpass forever. When you get there, more than ever, it's important to keep focused and not let your mind wander. You've got a lot of race to wreck, and you've got to keep your mind sharp for what's coming up ahead.

It's good to make a checklist in my mind, so I don't get distracted on race day. Are there any cables or streamers around that I can use as trip wires? Is this a good time to call the fire department to report a massive four-alarm blaze at the 12-mile mark? Do I hip-check the guy in front of me or stop abruptly and trip up the three people behind?

If I make all the right decisions, and really push myself, I could ruin this marathon in record time.
The biggest thing I've learned about training to thwart a marathon is that you have to set small, manageable goals for yourself, and then gradually work up to bigger, more challenging goals. Try starting off with something simple, like printing out "Marathon Continues to the Right" signs and pasting them up by the on-ramp to the interstate. Once you're comfortable with that, you can work your way up to a larger goal, like breaking beer bottles into a sack and dumping them out in front of the wheelchair racers, or loading up on carbs and dairy so you can vomit all over the finish line.

As the day of the marathon approaches, it's easy to psych yourself out by thinking of all the tiny things that could go wrong. The hornets could all die en route to the starting line, or I might forget to slash the tires of the first-aid trucks that follow the runners. But when you're ruining a marathon, you have to push all those little what-ifs out of your head and just go out there and try your hardest.
Sure, you might not end up ruining every inch of the marathon, but just imagine the looks on their faces when 300-plus people fail to cross that finish line.

Race day's tomorrow. No more excuses. No more letting my own fears, or my wife's sobbing pleas, or the combined efforts of city and state law enforcement agencies get in the way of me accomplishing my goal. No, sir. Not this time.

I've trained too hard for that.