Simply rising off the couch was initially torture.  Getting in and out of bed was a near-death experience.  Credit to Nurse Roya for all the incredible compassion and TLC she provided, but even her super-human strength couldn’t help alleviate use of my core muscles which are at the root of my discomfort.  Now, on day twelve following the injury, I can move fairly cleanly and without significant pain.  I had to work from home however last week as there was no chance I’d be able to handle a subway ride, let alone the walk to the subway station.  Naturally, I couldn’t compete at Eagleman.

I heard that race day featured terribly hot and humid conditions.  As anyone who knows me can attest, I fail big time in such weather.  It’s my kryptonite.  My buddy Fernando managed to complete the event, his first at that distance, in a VERY respectable time despite the terrible weather, and while I hated having to miss the race, I didn’t miss the suffering that he and so many others faced.  Pics on Facebook depict some pretty worn-out individual.

I managed to get onto a bike Monday evening for a little while to help out a triathlon/biathlon clinic.  It was painful to get out of the saddle, but riding in aero position was manageable.  I felt pretty strong surprisingly.  I tried swimming last night but managed only nine minutes in the water before bailing.  I probably could have continued on and grit my teeth through the pain, but it became increasingly worse and my form suffered.  Making the call to quit was a good one.

I did manage to get back on the bike this morning as part of my triathlon team’s Thursday early morning brick workout and while the first loop of Central Park felt pretty good, I realized that I couldn’t get out of the saddle to attack Harlem Hill, and that my endurance while training a high intensity wasn’t good anymore.  By the time I finished the biking session, I was a humbled man by how hard it was to ride hard.  I tried in vain to run for the 20 minutes or so that was allotted for it, but it hurt too much.   I instead walked for 1.5 miles at as brisk a pace I could manage without causing too much pain.  It was very discouraging to say the least, but I’m trying to keep a good attitude about it.

My next race is in 10 days:  The Philly Olympic Triathlon.  It’ll be my fifth time competing at this venue and I do like it quite a bit.  I had hopes of getting a P.R. thanks to an improved run this season, but at this point, I’m just hoping to compete.  It’s entirely possible and likely that I’ll be able to swim and run by this time next week, and with a fair amount of base fitness under me (a good early-season training regimen, and 10 years of multisport training under me), I’m sure I’ll do okay.  The “A” race continues to be the NYC Triathlon.  That’s three weeks after Philly.

It’s hard to say how well the body is going to respond to the intensity workouts that are in my future, but I’m committed to working hard and that’s really the most important part.  For now, I can only cycle without pain, so I intend to ride A LOT in the next week.  I never thought I’d say that I miss running but dammit, I do.  I loved the feeling of being in the water yesterday to swim, and although I was in pain, I knew that once it subsides, I’m really going to enjoy this new phase of training.  I’m super motivated.

That’s it for now.  I’ll update this weekend with how things went training-wise.  I’m going to give it a try at swimming and running on Sunday/Monday.

Generally, with respect to the emergence from the depths of my training woes, things seem to be getting a bit better.  I’m still not logging the kind of mileage that I think that I would have otherwise, I am being diligent and intelligent with respect to what I do and when I do it.  My swim training is still less than it should be, but that’s more a function of poor scheduling on my part than desire (although a psychologist would suggest otherwise).

I’ve done a couple of long cycling rides that included both hills and long straights, and though I didn’t apply absolute power at any single moment on those rides, and while I still felt some of the deep fatigue in the leg muscles, I did feel like I had some good endurance and my climbing abilities don’t seem to have waned.  Most recently, on a ride in Central Park early in the morning as part of the weekly brick sessions that my team does, I played with my pacing and positioning on the bike and at all times, I felt comfortable.  The run following the bike however is what really has me optimistic.  I was able to find a good pace quickly and maintain it, and toy with it as well at will, for a solid 20 minutes.  I believe that I could have maintained that pace easily for another 30 minutes which, on race day, should take me to the just around the halfway point of the run leg.  The trick will be to get back!

I spent a lot of time on that recent run, as well as on the two other runs that preceded it, thinking about and evaluating everything that I was doing.  Such evaluation included foot placement, mental psyche, and quite simply, how my body liked or disliked what I was doing.  The message I got back was that it was no longer unbearable.  I no longer needed to survive from stop point to stop point.  The fluidity and control that I had early season seems to be coming back and that’s a VERY good thing.

As I look forward to race day a week from Sunday, I envision good things.  I think that my swim will be standard… which is to say unremarkable.  My goal is 38 minutes or less and that is feasible.  Absolutely it is.  I expect transition to be very quick as usual, and I expect to be able to get onto the bike and find rhythm quickly.  Thereafter, I think that my real challenge will be to figure out how hard to ride.  In 2007, I didn’t ride my hardest for fear of what might happen on the run.  I don’t intend to go all out this time, so the trick will be to find out where the proper middle ground is between 2007 and an all out effort.  With my strong affinity for metrics while cycling, I’ll likely consult my cyclometer often and use time increments to determine my effort level, e.g. go hard for 10 minutes, and reduce the effort level for 2 minutes, then repeat.  My goal is to beat the 2007 time of 2 hours and 41 minutes.  In 2007 however, the conditions were not very windy but the course is generally thought of as quite windy.  Let’s hope 2010 repeats the conditions of 2007!

On the run, my plan is to run the first two miles in bike recovery mode.  That is, I’ll run a little harder than comfortable and slowly back off a tad to find some pace that feels manageable, but fast.   Depending on how I feel at the two mile point, I’ll either shoot for mile 4 at that same pace before hitting an aid station, or ease up on the pace and hit every aid station for gatorade.  Mile 4 will be an important point for me as it will psychologically represent the two-thirds of the way mark to the turn-around point (actually slightly less than that, but it’s close enough).  If I need to stop for 15-20 seconds to slow the heart rate and just get my wits about me, that’s okay.  I know that the quality of the next few miles will improve as a result.  Thereafter, I know that the next 21 minutes or so will be to the turn-around point, and the next 21 minutes or so after that to the 9 mile mark.  It’s at mile 9 in 2007 where I began to bonk very quickly.  I’ll likely stop at mile 9 for another quick recovery, then just work the remaining four miles one-by-one until the finish.  I know that when I get to mile 12, I’ll feel like I’m almost done and that a pick-up in my pace will inevitably occur.

See, I’m optimistic!  This morning, I took an extra long shower thinking about how things are shaping up.  Two weeks after Eagleman, I’m doing the Philly Olympic race and I know that I’ll have great legs under me thanks to Eagleman.  Thereafter, I’ll have some confidence and strong desire to focus on speed and interval work for three weeks leading up to the “A” race of the season, the NYC Triathlon.  It’s all shaping up now.

Finally, I’d like to personally recommend RoadRunnerSports.com for making the shoe-buying process quick and painless (pun intended).

I’ve had such a good season thus far.  I’ve gotten personal records (“PRs”) in a few events, gotten onto the podium twice, and have felt solid and fast.  My confidence has been great and I’ve been so excited about the upcoming Eagleman half-Ironman event on June 13th.  A few years ago in this event, I was having a pretty decent race until mile 9 of the run.  Since I hadn’t been taking the proper nutrition, I hit the wall (aka bonked).  I was lucky to finish super slowly and I’ve vowed to do this race again and actually perform much better.  Until two weeks ago, I felt like the sky was the limit and that I’d absolutely blow away my time from 2007.  But, inexplicably, it feels like the rug has been pulled out from beneath me.

These days, even minor efforts seem arduous.  My legs felt super heavy and tired following the runs in Houston, so I listened to my body and rested.  I then fell into a bit of a mental depression or lapse and flaked on other workouts last week.  I knew that I’d get back into it easily and I convinced myself that the time off would do my body a lot of good.

This past Sunday, I went out on a low intensity, longish distance ride of about 45-50 miles.  I felt okay as I got up to mile 10 or so, but thereafter, it felt hard.  I didn’t push hard because I didn’t have a lot of energy.  I tried taking my energy gels and nutritional bars/drinks, but nothing seemed to give me a jolt.  I had neck spasms and never felt fast.  That feeling of being fast… it’s a strange thing and it does wonders for a person psychologically, which in turns makes a person want to do more and more, thus potentially getting faster and faster.  I learned the inverse was true.  I was moving a sloth-like pace.  Towards the end of the ride, I got a little stronger and my spirit picked up a bit, but I considered it a terrible ride and felt pretty bad about things following it.

The next day, I planned on running 13 or so miles, but barely managed to eke out 10.5.  From mile one on, my legs felt heavy, my GI system wouldn’t settle down (had to make a stop to address things), and I had to stop every 10-15 minutes to get my heart rate down.  When I finally got back home, I was more dejected than ever.  I finally got back into the pool this morning and didn’t do terribly well.  What’s happening?  Why the implosion?  I’ve asked a few of my Terrier Tri coaches and it may just be that I overtrained a bit, and that I’m neither getting enough rest or proper nutrition.  Frankly, I don’t believe that I’ve made major changes to any part of my lifestyle and that a subtle tweak could alone be the cause of this latest setback.

I am committed to overcoming this.  I have a big race in 19 days and I’ll be damned to let it beat me up again.  I know that I have the volume of miles under me in all three disciplines, so my plan is to remind myself of what fast is.  I’m going to ride and run shorter distances and do so with fast intervals.  I’ll swim quite a bit as well since recovery therein is actually quite quick.  I’m going to attend more of the team workouts in these next 2+ weeks since it’ll provide me with motivation while training with other people versus that which I seem to lack when doing so alone.  Then, there’s the diet.  Roya has been an angel about promoting organic and natural food consumption, and I’ve been eating very well thanks to her.

Work these days remains fairly uneventful and without much stress.  That’ll allow me to remain focused.  I am going to fight this.  It’s not a depression in the clinical sense, but I am pretty down about how badly I’ve been performing during training.  However, I know that I’m capable and likely to climb out of this and do fairly well, so I just have to practice patience, listen to my coaches, listen to my own wisdom, and just do it.

More to come on my thoughts preceding this Eagleman half-Ironman in later posts.

In the days preceding our trip, I conveyed my plan to Roya who explained that her parents’ area probably wasn’t ideal for a long run, but with plans to visit one of her best friends a few miles away who lives in a beautiful area, I still had a shot at finding a good route.  I visited one my favorite run/bike planning sites called mapmyride.com and I mapped an out-and-back course of 12 miles.  My plan was to run the 12 on Saturday, then do speedwork over the course of an hour on Monday.  I also planned on swimming on Sunday and found that the University of Houston featured a good pool and Sunday morning hours.  Planning component, check!

Once in Houston, I was consumed by amazing Persian hospitality which, as many have learned, means extreme politeness to the point of insanity.  At dinner, it was almost as if I was being rude by refusing my third huge portion of food.  Granted, it was beyond delicious and I wished that my gullet was bigger, but I already ate a ton and couldn’t believe how full I was able to get.  Even when I said no to pecan pie for dessert, I was given apple pie with ice cream.  Beautiful people with the warmest hearts, but pushy with the food!  I was worried how I’d be able to run the next day!

Come Saturday, Roya and I headed to her friend’s house to say hello and meet her new baby.  After a little while, I got dressed for the run and bid adieu.  It was hot, probably in the mid 80s, and the humidity felt like 95%.  Turns out it was 71% humidity but seriously, it felt like I was in Miami in August.  It was absolutely brutal.  I carried a fuel belt but figured that I wouldn’t need more than two bottles.  I also forgot to bring Endurolytes which, for those who don’t know, are essentially salt tablets with magnesium and potassium to help replenish the salt content that is lost through sweating and not replaced with plain water.

So, I plodded along and found it hard initially to control my pace.  I was running at a 7:30 pace, or so I felt, but I didn’t want to.  Finally, at around mile 3, I was able to calm down and settle into a reasonable pace.  At the 30 minute mark, I found that my shirt was incredibly bothersome, so I shed it and managed to stuff it into one of the bottle holsters on my fuel belt.  It was heavy from sweat, so it bounced with each step, but I eventually found a spot for it that jived with my gait.

Once that was settled, I realized that I wasn’t.  I was fading fast in the unshaded, sunny, flat, and windless road.  Aside from good tunes on the iPod, there was little to distract me from how bad I began to feel.  I decided that regardless of pace, I’d run to the 50 minute mark, then make a u-turn and head back.  I had to stop four times on the way back to take part of a gel and lower my heart rate.  For long stretches, my heart rate was north of 166 which is in my “red zone”; that is, it exceeded my lactate threshold.  I’m not opposed to running in the red zone in training so long as it’s done so strategically for specific intervals and the like.  This time however, my heart rate correlated with me running at a 7:15 pace when in fact, I was around 8:20.  See, my body was dedicating so much energy to cooling off (e.g. sweating) that it affected my respiratory system and metabolic function.  My legs felt great; the rest of me?  Not so much.

On the way to the turn-around point, I had been sure to register how long it had taken me to get to certain points along the way which essentially created bookmarks on the course.  On the way back, those were so valuable since I knew that I only had 13 minutes to get to this point, and 9 minutes to the next point, etc.  When I finally made it back to my starting point at Roya’s friend’s house, I hunched over to bring the ridiculous heart rate back down and it was at that moment that Roya stepped out of her friend’s house with shoes on, keys in hand, and plans to drive the route looking for me.  I kinda figured that she would; she’s great like that.  She also asked if I had been there a while since it looked like I jumped into a pond to cool off.  I said no; this is sweat baby.  It was all sweat, but subtract the “baby” part as if to suggest that any of it could be considered sexy; I was an abhorrent mess of secreted fluids.  Yuck.

Normally, I burn 950 calories an hour when I run.  On Saturday, that ramped up to 1,100 per hour.  Naturally, I couldn’t want to get back to Roya’s house to eat!  I only wondered if they’d be willing to feed me…

I bailed on the swim Sunday morning.  Too much late night fun with the family made for a late bedtime.  I did make it out to run Monday morning though.  Roya came into wake me at 6:45 since she knew that it would be so much cooler then.  I snoozed and dawdled and didn’t get out until just before 8 a.m. She was right; though 8 felt early to me, the weather didn’t share the feeling and presented me with heat, humidity, and zero wind.  Had I left at 7 a.m., it likely would have been better for me weather-wise.

My pre-Houston plan was to do speedwork but I bailed on it and decided to make it a recovery run.  At first, I thought running 20 minutes out and back would be good, but I eventually extended it to 24 minutes in each direction so that I’d be close to 6 miles in total.  As it turns out, I ran 5.7 in 46:30 minutes (including a 1:30 minute negative split) and generally felt okay.  It was shady on the way out since the sun was still somewhat low on the horizon, but the return trip eliminated any previous shade.  Naturally, I suffered a bit more, but still managed to run a few intervals at race pace.

So, that was 18 miles in two days in disgusting weather.  As I’ve often said before, humidity and heat are kryptonite to my body.  I just can’t seem to perform.  Bring me freezing cold weather and I can do well, but Houston’s weather?  Not well.  The half-Ironman in June will be held in Maryland, and if my memory serves me well, when I did it 2007, the weather was fairly dry and temperate (maybe in the low 70s).  The big deal at this race is wind.  I was lucky that in 2007, the winds were calm but one never knows with this course.  I’ll bring my disc wheel but only consider it on the morning of the race if it seems that the winds will be nominal.

The rest of the next three weeks will be all about this next race (FYI, called Eagleman).  I’ll be training with the team this Saturday doing 60 miles of cycling and 4 miles of running, then doing 14.6 miles of running the next day on my own in Central Park.  The following weekend (Memorial Day weekend), I plan on similar distances and efforts.  I’ll begin to taper thereafter and get the body well-rested for the next couple of weeks with the hope that I’ll have a banner day on June 13th.  Lots to say about Eagleman and the unfinished business I have there, but that’ll be for another post.

Escape From Alcatraz:

• I didn’t do any pre-race training like going into the water to test out the temp or the wetsuit.  Roya and I were too involved in doing our own thing as it was our first vacation together.  I did drive part of the bike course but I figured I was off-course because I couldn’t imagine that the real course could be THAT hilly.
• Saturday night, Roya wasn’t hungry, so I got my pre-race pasta meal to go.  It seemed to be no different than what I normally eat, but that night, my stomach was upset and I couldn’t sleep.  I almost never get pre-race nerves, but I wound up being so apprehensive that I only slept 2.5 hours or so.
• Sunday morning, I bid adieu to Roya and rode to the course.  I was lucky that my hotel was a half-mile away.  I’m a seasoned pro when it comes to the transition set-up, so I was done setting up quickly and spent the rest of the time admiring bikes.
• I got onto the bus that takes athletes to the boat and immediately saw my new friend Mike, a Terrier Tri teammate.  It was good to have a familiar face with whom to hang in the half hour between our arrival at the pier and the boat departure.
  

  SF Hornblower

• While on the boat, athletes were sprawled out everywhere.  It was chaotic and calming at the same time.  I found my little spot, and upon self-reflection, realized that I wasn’t nervous at all.  In fact, I had no fear, apprehension, anxiety, or apathy; I was happy to embark on this adventure.
• As the boat neared the launch point, I found a friend I made while at Ironman Brazil.  Steve was with a bunch of his buddies and with this now larger circle around me, humor and levity took over.
• Finally, as athletes got closer and closer to the side doors from which they jumped into the water, I couldn’t help but compare the experience to skydiving and watching friends jump from the plane.  When it was my turn, time seemed to stand still.  I jumped and remember not feeling the water temperature for at least 5 seconds.  When it finally hit me, I was already swimming the breast-stroke so that I wouldn’t be in the way for another athlete jumping in.  I hate when I get landed on!
  

  Ready to jump

  

  The Hornblower by Alcatraz

• It took me four minutes before I actually started swimming freestyle.  My goggles malfunctioned inexplicably and once fixed, I had a hard time keeping my face in the water.  Once acclimated though, I was comfortable and kept my sights on certain landmarks as best I could.  I did stop twice to look around and take in the amazing view that was unique to where I was; bobbing up and down in SF Bay between Alcatraz and SF is something that very few people get to experience.
• Turns out my swim time was atrocious; something like 90% of the athletes covered the distance faster than me which is both embarrassing and disappointing, but I have my reasons including the aforementioned tourist-like stops in the middle of the bay.
• Once on land, I found my first transition bag but upon trying to get out of the wetsuit, I realized that I had searing pain by my armpits and on the back of my neck, both due to wetsuit chafing.  Guess I wasn’t nearly as liberal with the anti-chafing cream as I should have been.  It therefore took me forever to recover from this pain and get my butt over to the bike transition area.  I got to see Roya though and she has a couple of good shots of me coming out of the water.  Her two local friends joined her, as well as a few other bystanders, in keeping watch for me; “He’s wearing a sleeveless wetsuit, a green cap, is white, and has a goatee.”  That’s all they had to go on.  Turns out that there were surprisingly few men with this description!
  

  Coming out of the water

  

  Swim Exit

  

  Swim to Bike transition

• I got out onto the bike quickly and immediately attacked the first hill.  For that matter, I attacked every hill.  I rarely felt fatigue and instead found myself strong and recovered quickly.  Not a single athlete passed me on the bike leg while I must have passed 200+ people.  On several occasions, an athlete raced me at the bottom of the hill, only to be passed by me at the end of the hill.  Guess all that work on hills paid off!

  

  Out of the saddle

  

  One of the few non-hilly sections

  

  Golden Gate Bridge in the background on the return trip

• It was cool to see the professional athletes biking back (while I was biking out), and running out while I was biking back.  I recognized Hunter Kemper in first and Andy Potts in third as well as Jenny Fletcher and a few others.
• I saw Roya on the return of the bike, and again as I began the run.  When I saw her on the run, I made a little detour to kiss her to which the crowd collectively said, “Awwww.”  If nothing else, it helped distract me from how uncomfortable I felt thanks to an uncooperative bladder.  I did find a little out-house on the course and timed my pee break:  45 seconds.  Not bad!
• The first two miles, though totally flat, were slow.  My stride length was short and I didn’t feel particularly strong.  Shortly thereafter, we had to climb stairs along a cliff, run uphill, run on trails, climb other cliff stairs, then run down a steep hill before arriving at Baker Beach.  The sand was black and deep, and while I followed the rest of the athletes to the water’s edge, it was only marginally better in terms of traction.  At the turn-around point, I began to find some rhythm.  About a half-mile later, we arrived at the infamous Sand Ladder.  It features 400 sandy steps up a cliff.  I went up two at a time and passed about a dozen people.  Couldn’t believe it!
  

  Up the Sand Ladder

• At the top of the Sand Ladder, I found myself launching into an aggressive pace.  The path was only one person wide, but I managed to skirt the cliff edge and pass people.  Descending the various cliff stairs was easy and when I finally got to the final two mile flat stretch, I found myself pouring on the intensity.  I saw a few guys ahead of me in my age group, so I made it my strategy to pick off each one, one by one.  When I did, I also realized that I wanted to make a statement and not enable them to pace off of me, so I picked up the pace even more.  With each small acceleration, I was able to sustain the speed.  When I looked back at my pace, I calculated that it was 6:28 per mile for the final two miles!!  My fastest pace EVER in a multisport race!!
  

  The final miles

  

  Building some speed

• As I approached the final straightaway, I had it in my mind to do so with a sprint.  As I picked up speed, I saw Roya and her friends rooting for me and gave them my ritualized fist pump (no, not like Jersey Shore).  Her pics of me in that stretch are pretty cool as are the ones from the official race photographer.  I finished strong and felt great!
  

  Going strong

  

  Straightaway run

  

  Sprinting

• In the end, I finished in the 52% percentile, which is to say that 52% of the participants were faster than me.  Oh well, guess I’m not that fast after all.  The swim clearly put me in this bottom half, but I did get to enjoy the views!  Completing this race was never in question for me and frankly, it was more of a celebratory moment than anything else.  Finishing my 70th triathlon in such grand style will be a lifelong memory.
  

  The Finish!

  

  Another Finish Shot

  

  I earned this

My greatest supporter

After the race, Roya and her friends took me to lunch where we drank a lot and shared a great time.  That meal took us to a couple of other places and eventually dinner.  Trust me when I say that I slept well that night.  Exhaustion and alcohol has a pretty good effect!

The next day, we headed to Sonoma for yet another amazing day.  Perfect weather, beautiful scenery, and great compatibility made for a relaxing day of recovery.  The wine helped too!

A week later, I competed in the Spring Couples Relay.  It consists of a male and female team where one party runs 2.2 miles, the other party bikes 12.2 miles, and both parties row around the pond in Central Park.  I’ve had lots of different partners in the past, and to be honest, I always look to find the fastest woman I can to run.  This year, my buddy Fernando’s friend Carin signed on.  She’s a very talented runner who is probably faster than even Fernando!

• Carin set out in the run pack and made it back in 6th place.
• I had my full aero set-up on the bike and went out hard.  I passed two competitors, but got smoked by another one.  I was at my limit and couldn’t counter his effort and before I knew it, he was gone from my view.  Kind of disheartening, but I remember him from years past and remember that he has great cycling prowess.
• As I dismounted the bike at the transition area, I passed the second of the two athletes and sprinted in bare feet to my bike rack area.  I tagged Carin, and told her to start running to the boats as I quickly put on my sneakers.  I caught her right at the boats and as soon as we were pushed out, I began rowing.
• The guy I passed at the dismount line was about 20 seconds behind us but he made up the time quickly.  Just before the halfway point of the row section, he passed me.  I thought about blocking him a bit, but that would have been poor sportsmanship, so I just tried to row harder… but it was to no avail.
• We eventually finished in 5th place and seemingly 2nd in our age group.  But, another team got penalized for a cycling infraction by riding in the pedestrian path, so the couple that beat us (who was in our age group) got moved up to the 3rd overall position, thus enabling us to get first place plaques in our division.
  

  Carin and I get our awards

• Very good friends John and Deanna, doing their first such race, finished 21st overall and 3rd in our age group, so they too got plaques.  Good for them!
  

  John and Deanna get awards

Size does matter!

Next up is potentially the Silverlake Sprint Triathlon in Houston.  I’m headed there this weekend to meet Roya’s family and she found this race.  I’m working out some logistics right now, but it’s super short and could be a lot of fun.  It features a 400 meter swim (1/4 mile), a ten mile bike, and a three mile run.  The cost is manageable, but I’d have to fly with my bike and incur a per flight fee of $100, thus making it an expensive proposition just to do a little race.  Then again, I do want to pump my numbers up and get to 100 triathlons as soon as I can, so I’m seriously considering it.

Ultimately, I’m focused on the Eagleman half-Ironman event on June 13th.  I will probably be fine on the swim and bike, but I need to get more distance runs under my belt.  I have been feeling great all year while running, so if it comes through for me on race day, I’ll beat my goal of 5:30 by a good portion!

That’s it for now.  So much for brevity.

Roya and I leave tomorrow afternoon for San Francisco.  We’ll get in early evening, get the rental car, then head to the motel I’ve stayed at twice before.  It’s not fancy, but neither am I.  It’s in the Marina District, so I imagine it will be a short drive to the race site Sunday morning.

On Saturday, we’ll head over to the race site to check out the expo, attend the mandatory pre-race athlete briefing, then hopefully drive the bike course.  It’s only 18 miles in distance but is described to be very hilly and with 20 or so turns.  I made a bet with my close buddy Jeff that my time in the bike course would be in the top 10% of all athletes.  It was a silly bet in retrospect (I can’t even remember what the bet was for!), but if I have to blow out my legs on the bike course and suffer on the run, so be it!  I HATE losing bets, especially to him, a friend of 31 years.

After the pre-race stuff, we’ll hopefully find a place with some good pasta bolognese as it’s part of my pre-race ritual.  We’ll hopefully crash early although knowing me, I’ll be up til midnight playing backgammon or scrabble or something.

Sunday morning, we’re supposed to be at the race site dreadfully early and I’m supposed to be in a staging area to board the boat that takes us into the bay by some specific time.  Thereafter, the boat takes us right near Alcatraz Island.  While on the boat, we will be corralled into various groups so that it’ll make the departure off the boat into the water a bit more organized.

Essentially, athletes make a six foot leap from the deck of the boat into the cold SF Bay feet-first.  With close to 2,000 athletes competing, the idea is to hit the water and get the hell away from the boat so that no one lands on you.  I don’t know what the water temp will be, but I’m guessing mid-50s.  I’ve competed in water that was 57 degrees and while the experience was not fun, it was survivable.  My feet were frozen for a while on the bike, but eventually became normal on the run.  I expect that I’ll be suffering a bit early on; typically, hyperventilation occurs, the solution of which is to bob the head into the water and back out over and over until assimilated.

It’s been said that predicting the currents is next to impossible, and there are no buoys in the water to direct us, so I’ve been told to simply choose a few points of reference on land and swim towards them.  It’ll be prudent to “sight,” that is, to pick the head up in mid-stroke, as often as possible to avoid making course corrections which obviously adds time and depletes energy.

Once on land, there will be a transition bag for each athlete that he/she leaves beforehand containing sneakers and maybe other gear.  This is because the location of the bikes is about a half-mile away and the pavement may not be smooth or feature pebbles and bits of glass.  So, after the athletes get changed, they put their wetsuits, goggles, and caps into their transition bags, then run to the transition area.  Once there, it’s off on the bike.

After the bike, the 8 mile run is reportedly very hard.  It features multiple surfaces including tarmac, wood chips, dirt, and sand.  Part of the course takes athletes into deep sand and eventually, we are to climb the infamous “sand ladder” which features 400 steps, in sand and with railroad ties or similar wood planks, to the top of a cliff.  Even the pros have to walk and use the rope along side for help.  Once at the top, it’s about a mile and change to the finish line.

My goal is to break three hours.  I think that it’s feasible if (a BIG if) I can do the swim in 45 minutes, do the bike in 54 minutes, and do the run in 68 minutes (plus the half-mile swim-to-bike run and other transition times).  Who knows though; it’s notoriously a very difficult event and I have no familiarity with the course as yet.  I’ve watched videos on youtube and have gleaned as much information from friends and other athletes as well as various websites, but until a person is out there, making solid predictions can be hard.

It seems as if many of my Terrier Tri teammates will be out there, so it’ll be cool to see them on the course and root for them, and to be cheered on by them.  More importantly, having Roya out there will be HUGE for me.  She’s tremendously supportive and this will be her first real exposure to a marquis triathlon event.  I’m kinda excited for her actually!

After the race, I expect that I’ll revel a bit in thrill of victory at the race site, then head back with Roya to get cleaned up and head out to meet friends.  My good friend Bonnie and her husband live in SF and since I haven’t seen her in a like a decade, it’ll be fantastic to meet up and celebrate.  Bonnie was, as I recall, my first friend when I arrived at college at age 18, and we’ve remained friends ever since.  She holds a very dear place in my heart.

On Monday, Roya and I are planning on visiting Sonoma County.  I’ve been to Napa and really enjoyed it, but Sonoma seems to be calling me.  Thankfully, our rental car is an automatic, so Roya can take control when (not if) the wine consumption sends me roaring past the legal limit to drive.  We then head back to NYC on Tuesday.

I checked my training logs today:  I’ve swum (I have a hard time with the swam/swum grammar) 35 miles this year, cycled over 1,000, and run nearly 300.  My swim has improved, but the SF Bay will be more of a survival leg for me I think.  My bike is very strong and is getting stronger.  I can climb really well at this point and so far, haven’t found any of my friends or peers who can match me; let’s hope that strength transfers to SF’s hills.  And, my run times have been amazing (by my standards).  I’m able to run off the bike easily thanks to many brick training sessions, and I’m able to negative split and find those extra kicks when I need them.  I’m ready for this event.

This marks my 150th multisport event and my 70th triathlon.  I can’t believe those numbers are mine, but I’m very proud.  And to be able to share it with Roya will make it all the more special.  I wonder what I should do when I hit the 100 triathlon mark, most likely in 2013.  Any suggestions?

Ironman is such a different beast than anything else.  But with two under my belt so far, and with my intention to hire a personal coach, I know that I will have a good race.  The pre-race jitters and psychological torture of Ironman Lake Placid will not exist this time.  The dilemmas with my running following an incorrectly surgically-repaired left knee will not exist this time thanks to the correct and effective procedure this past November.  The only issue I can foresee is the ability to get in my long rides and runs during the winter.  That is, with the race in April, I’m going to have to train from October through April and the cold weather will make it difficult to get in my 80, 90, 100, and 110 mile rides.  Running in inclement weather has never been a major issue; it’s really just the bike.

One possible solution is to make once a month trips to warmer environs.  That could mean the Carolinas or Florida or even southern California.  Another solution is to finally invest in some quality cold weather gear, e.g. better gloves, booties, undergarments, etc.  I have good equipment already, but a couple of pieces warrant replacement.  I’ve held off to save money, but this is the Ironman for God’s sake!

So, here I am, already contemplating this next huge goal in my life.  It’s funny though; now that I’m better acquainted with my brethren within the triathlon team, and with many of them accomplished long course athletes, I kinda feel like making a big deal out of an Ironman is silly, but I just can’t take it for granted.  This body was not born to be an Ironman; I willed myself to get to the finish line.  I’m neither a natural swimmer or runner, and it’s through my father’s genetics that these legs enable me to be somewhat competitive on the bike.  Truly, I believe I’m more of an athlete as the good coordination I have (I think from Mom’s side) has always made sports something in which I easily excelled.  The Ironman itself isn’t that hard; you just do it.  I know, that sounds trite to the non-endurance athlete, but it really is just that simple.  To be a fast Ironman… that’s an entirely different story.

First up is Alcatraz.  17 days and counting.  I’ve watched a bunch of youtube videos about the swim and the course in general and have a good feeling for what’s ahead of me.  Interestingly enough, I find myself comparing it to that which I faced during Ironman Lake Placid.  And now, with Ironman South Africa in my future, I’m finding myself more at peace with the challenges at Alcatraz.  I’m sure I’ll be singing a different tune come race morning!

I haven’t written here as often as I would have liked or intended, and it’s particularly disconcerting to me given my previous posts about wanting to write more often, but I’ll try to make amends hereinafter.  Here’s a quick recap, then I’ll get back to my freak-out re Alcatraz.

I wrote previously about my crazy weekend with the Ski-Bike-Run Triathlon and NYC Half-Marathon within the same weekend.  I think that I wrote that I finished 6th but upon checking the official results, one of the finishers ahead of me was on a relay team and we never include them in the overall standings with individuals, therefore it was a 5th place finish!  Wow, that felt good, as did receipt of my certificate from the race organizer which I had framed like the other two from this event.  It’s such a small race with barely 70 people, so rest assured, I know that any perception of being a big fish is limited to the tiniest of ponds.

The next weekend, I raced in the March Madness Biathlon.  It’s a 2.2 mile run, a 12 mile bike, and another 2.2 mile run.  While I missed a personal record by a very small amount, it still was a great day.  I was so much faster on the 1st and 2nd runs than in many years before (it was my 8th time), and while the bike was good, I realize that I never really went all-out.  Had I done so, perhaps the 2nd run wouldn’t have been so good.  Who knows; the end result was that I felt great about my performance.

The following weekend, I ran a 10k race in Central Park.  While I missed a personal record again, this time by a mere 20 seconds, it was still a good experience in terms of the learning curve.  I made the classic mistake of going out way too hard to compensate for some crowding at the beginning, but with the end result of feeling fatigued and failing to sustain that initial intensity level.  The average pace for me was still 7:17, and given my experience, that’s significant.

For the last three weeks and change, my girlfriend has been traveling, so I’ve been able to establish a good training routine.  It includes a mini-brick on Tuesday nights, a longer one on Thursday early mornings, and various other components.  Now that she’s back, the trick will be to sustain it as best I can.  Alcatraz throws a small monkey wrench into the works though as I’m almost exclusively using my road bike for training, since I intend to use it on race day to befit the hilliness and technical aspects of the course.  And, with my intention to back off from doing hard workouts for the week preceding the race, it changes how I’ll be shaping my workout calendar.  Thereafter, I’ll have six weeks before the next event, the Eagleman Half-Ironman.  Those six weeks will be very good in terms of getting back to my workout schedule, and with the nice weather in that part of Spring, I know I won’t be able to wait to get outside as much as possible to train.

So, with Alcatraz ahead in of me in 19 days, I’m not really freaking-out, but I’m not feeling super confident either.  The swim will be tough.  I’ve been watching YouTube videos of folks jumping off the boat and swimming to shore, but none seem to show enough of the swim itself, instead focusing on the launch off the boat.  I wear a sleeveless wetsuit and most people wear a sleeved wetsuit, so I’m probably going to suffer quite a bit.  That sucks.  I didn’t see anyone wearing booties, so while I have been toying with the concept, I’m still on the fence.  I will have to train with the wetsuit on in the pool in the near future, but it won’t come close to what things will be like in SF bay in 19 days, e.g. temp, current, waves, other people, potential marine life, etc.

The decision to ride the road bike has been universally endorsed except for my friend Scott from Columbus.  He and I met during IM Brazil and his recommendation is that I go with the tri bike.  The course seems ridiculously hard, and with my road bike being super light (around 16 pounds) and east to use when ascending hills, using it seems like a no-brainer.  Scott did Alcatraz and that fact, combined with his overall triathlon strength, has me double-thinking my decision though.  Ugh.

There are so many great aspects about competing in this Alcatraz race.

• It will mark my 150th overall endurance event.  And, it will by my 70th triathlon.  Big numbers in both categories.
• Many members from my Terrier Tri team will be there competing as well.
• My girlfriend will be joining me on the mini-vacation.  To know that I’ll have her there to root for and support me means the world to me.  It’ll also make it a lot more fun to celebrate afterwards.
• My dear friend from college, Bonnie, and her husband will also help us celebrate since they live in the area.
• I have a bet with my oldest friend, Jeff, about how I’ll do on the bike.  If I finish in the top 10%, I win something… but I can’t remember what it is.  If I don’t, I also don’t remember the payout.  I’m hoping it’s not like a bet I lost last year which resulted in me having to wear a Red Sox t-shirt in public (haven’t done it yet, but I know it’s in the works).  Dammit.

Anyway, with only 19 days till race day, there’s not a ton I can do to ramp things up.  I have this and next week as two full weeks to put in the hard work, e.g. long swims, cycling sessions on the hills, and load-heavy runs.  Hopefully, the final week of rest will finish off a training phase that allows me to not suffer too bad.  After having done the Ironman, no real race scares me that much in terms of my ability to complete it, but I want to do so with a respectable finish time.  The clock… I think that’s why a lot of us who are way deep into this hobby are so addicted.

All that aside, I feel good about getting into a good routine.  Post race weekend, I only took Monday off and got a massage.  On Tuesday, I got back onto the bike as I joined the Terrier Tri team for our regular Tuesday night indoor cycling session.  We did a bit of climbing which I seem to particularly enjoy.  I like being out of the saddle and ideally, I’d like to convert to being more of a climber.  With the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon looming, and with my oldest friend Jeff scaring me with stories of the hills, I’m eager to do whatever it takes to take them on successfully.  That’ll mean a fair amount of time riding the Alpine, NJ hill along River Road.  I figure that I’ll need to ride that route a lot and get to the point where I can ascend it 2-3 times in a session.  I suppose I should get up to Bear Mountain, but we’ll see how/when I can fit that in.  Alcatraz is on May 2nd, so as of this writing, it’s only 5 weeks away.  Yikes, that is soon!

The rest of this week has been good; I’m not doing a lot of heavy loading on the muscles given the March Madness Biathlon this Sunday.  It’s only a 2 mile run (actually, they always mis-measure it, and I usually clock it at 2.2 miles), 2 loops on the bike around Central Park (12.2 miles) and the same run course again.  I’ve been as fast as 70 minutes and as slow as 79 minutes, with two of my slowest performances occurring the last two years.  I did a quick 2 loop spin of Central Park last night and had generally had some good results, so I’m optimistic.  The set-up of my triathlon bike is really great these days, and I feel comfortable and fast.

What I haven’t done enough of is swimming.  It’s as if I’ve thrown it away.  I did swim today, but worked exclusively on form and technique.  As such, I didn’t cover a lot of distance, and I know that I’ll need to moving forward.  As I thought about things in the shower afterwards, I made a vow that I’d change things and get back to my focus in the water.  I’ll start on Monday and put in a solid 3-4 sessions per week.  I refuse to let this weigh me down and keep me from getting PRs in races.

So that’s it for now.  I’ll write a race recap on Sunday night.  Hopefully I’ll have good news to report.  It’ll be my fourth race in 14 days, and with just a 10k and a biathlon in April, I’ll be able to get back to focused training.  Bring on the hills!

I did all the right things leading into the weekend.  I didn’t do a lot of muscle-loading, e.g. no major threshold workouts or heavy lifting, and I had a carb-rich diet in the latter days leading up to Saturday.  I was in bed at a reasonable hour Friday night, and woke up nice and early Saturday morning.  With the race site a good 135 miles away, and with the requirement to be at registration no later than 11:30 a.m., my plan to leave at 8 a.m. seemed like a good one… except that I ran late as usual.  No worries on my end I thought; I still had plenty of time to get there, get in a run or two on the skis, and feel in control of the situation.  That is, until I got onto Route 80 in NJ.

I was nice and relaxed in the car, with the bike on top, skis inside, some breakfast food, great tunes on the radio, and fresh air.  Suddenly, in front of me, no further than say a tenth of a mile or less, I saw a car try to swerve to make an off-ramp.  Thing is that a big 18 wheeler was between it and the off-ramp.  The car slammed in the read-side of the trailer, careened off it sending smoke and debris into the air, then spun around about 4 times before hitting the right side guardrail twice and stopping.  I fancy myself a pretty good driver, and I put it all out there to both avoid the debris and maneuver through it as I swerved across four lanes to the shoulder.  I slammed on the brakes, pulled up the emergency brake, and with the car barely stopped, sprinted from my car to the crashed one with cell phone in hand.  As I frantically dialed 911, the two passengers got out and seemed okay albeit very dizzy.  After the dispatcher hung up, I somewhat corralled the two of them to the side since they were about to wander into traffic.  Just then, the truckdriver showed up and asked the male passenger why he tried to make that turn.  He then asked me to confirm that it wasn’t his fault.  I told the guy to calm down and wait for the police to arrive.  The main point then was to control the situation and make sure everyone was okay.

I helped the female passenger find her eyeglasses which were thrown from her body in the wreck.  I found them, some money, the male passenger’s gold necklace and pendant, and some other odds and ends but noticed that the engine was still running… but with no key in the ignition.  Somehow, the male passenger managed to kill the engine which was a relief.  I’ve seen too many movies where the car blows up unexpectedly and while I didn’t think that to be possible here, I was happier not having gas flow to a damaged engine.

The cops showed up shortly thereafter as did ambulance and fire personnel.  I helped kick some of the highway debris from the lanes to the shoulder until the cops yelled at me.  Figures I would get in trouble when I tried to help!  Finally, after about 45 minutes, I was given a piece of paper on which I was to make my statement.  After doing so, I was told I was free to go, and off I went.  I was now late.  So much for a leisurely drive.

After establishing some land speed records on the NY Thruway, I made it to the race site just before registration closed.  I had to rush to set up my transition area but it went well.  With the warm weather (about 65 degrees), I opted for my triathlon sleeveless top with arm warmers.  It was an interesting look for sure, but I didn’t care.  The key thing was getting on the boots and skis and hoping that they were in good operational order.  I grew up skiing, but in recent years, I’ve spent the majority of my snow time on a snowboard.  In fact, I hadn’t touched my skis in two years and from the edges, it looked it.  I wound up talking to an older guy who told me he had a bar of wax in his pocket which he’d gladly lend me.  I applied the wax as best I could and maybe it helped; I don’t really know frankly.

This race was set up in two waves:  all relay teams and women in the first wave, and all solo men in the second wave which left two minutes later.  It was kamikaze style where you all go at once.  Once I heard the countdown from 30 seconds, I noticed my heart rate start to rise.  I had myself well-positioned at the front of the line, and when the gun went off, I pushed off well.  With so many people poling themselves across the mostly flat top of the mountain, it was mayhem.  Pole tips were everywhere and I still can’t believe no one got hurt.  I managed to get in front quickly to avoid any problems but the warmth melted the snow and the resulting slush made everything seem like slow motion.  Eventually we made it to the downhill section of the ski course and I got into a tuck.  A few young kids were in front of me and took some wide angles into the sharp turns, so I wound up scrubbing off a little speed to deal with their and my trajectories.  I figured out quickly though that some previous snowmobile tracks on the side of the slope were smooth and quick, and off I went passing these kids.  Eventually, I made it to the bottom and based on what I know now, I was in fifth position

I got out of the skis quickly and clomped over to my bike in the ski boots.  Transition, my mainstay in multisport, wasn’t terribly quick, but as fast as I could manage.  I already had my helmet and sunglasses on, and I was wearing fingerless gloves, so all I needed to do was put on my cycling shoes.  With the bike course being very steep and technical, I decided to use my road bike and the shoes I use for them require a bit more attention than the triathlon shoes used on the triathlon bike.  Nonetheless, I got out fairly quickly and immediately got out of the saddle as if to attack.

As soon as I left transition and the parking lot, I turned to go down a huge hill and passed one of the kids (I keep saying kids, but they were probably in their late teens or early 20s) right away.  I looked at my spedometer and saw it climb to 45 mph.  Nice!  I wasn’t even pedaling!  Soon after, I encountered one tough hill.  I got passed by two guys on the hill; the eventual 2nd and 4th place finishes.  I was out of the saddle, breathing hard, barely moving, but I kept on.  I looked at the spedometer and it read 6.5 mph, then 6.0 mph, then 5.6 mph.  My God, I might be able to run faster than this!  I guess my conditioning was okay because I was able to conquer the hill right behind the eventual 2nd place guy and descend yet another hill.  The road quality was awful, with rocks, dirt, potholes, etc.  By that virtue and a number of hairpins turns and tons of hills, it was a technical course.  I managed it well and avoided crashing, but I was definitely pushing the envelope.  In one turn, it was something like 150 degrees to the right and at the apex of the turn was a ton of gravel and dirt.  Not wanting to lose that much speed, I literally skidded the rear around it with the inside shoe off the pedal like a fishtail.  The volunteer made some sort of “Whoa!” sound.  That felt good.

As I ascended the final hill, I began to see the lead competitors.  I counted them off to see if I could determine my current placing.  I saw only four of them.  That felt good.  I transitioned as well as I could to run shoes, but it was tough again because of the road bike shoes.  Once I had my second sneaker on, I grabbed my hat and sprinted out of the parking lot.  I saw one guy ahead of me and I was sure someone would be hot on my tail.  I couldn’t tell if while in transition, someone else had headed out, so I figured I was in 6th position at best, but maybe 7th or 8th.

The beginning of the run course, identical to the bike course, descends down a big hill.  I tried to control my legs, but with a very high heart rate and heavy breathing, it was tough.  I lengthened my stride, tried to keep the upper body still, and put on a serious face thinking that it would help me focus.  I got lots of cheers from other athletes who were finishing their bike legs.  Once I made a right angle turn, I had a chance to look behind me to gauge my distance to other athletes and saw none.  Okay, that was comforting.  I was then able to calm down a bit and focus solely on the guy in front of me.  After two miles or so of descending, I finally caught him.  I told him good job, and he returned the gesture.  Just then, the course turned to ascend the only hill, a super steep one.  Last year, I could run it.  This year, I had to walk.  I was praying that he would have to walk too, but alas, he was able to run it… and well.  When I got to the top, I figured I’d catch him again, but he did an incredible job of keeping me away.  Everytime I saw him pass a cone or mailbox, I gauged our time difference and sure enough, he was able to extend the differential.  With no one behind me, I stopped the heavy pursuit about 3 minutes from the finish.  In retrospect, I kind of regret not going for broke.  It’s so unlike me, but my cardio took such a pounding from the climbs on the bike, and I let it convince me that I shouldn’t let it all out.

When I crossed the finish line, I held my hands high in the air and it felt amazing.  I came in 6th place overall, my best ever finish in this, my 5th time doing this event.  I even noticed that post-race, I was chatting with the 3rd and 5th placed guys, kind of like a winners circle club.  I’ve never had that experience and it felt pretty good.

As soon as I could, I got outta dodge and headed back home to rest for the race the next morning.  A brief stop to say hi to Mom and Dad was great.  With Saturday being the Persian New Year (Now Ruz as we call it), it was important to share the love with the folks.  Got home very quickly and ate a big bowl of pasta before reclining for the night.  I was worried about how I’d fare Sunday morning when later in the evening, I tried getting up and felt the hips to be super tight.  When I awoke Sunday morning, they were practically immovable.  Not good.

I made it to the race and immediately ran into my great friend Chris.  I told him of my physical woes so that he wouldn’t have any expectations of breaking a record with me in tow.  He, like me, was just in it for the fun of it.  We ran the first three miles together at a reasonable 8:10 pace, chatting and catching up on life.  One of the best things about sharing the multisport lifestyle with friends is that racing and training are great excuses for hanging out and telling stories.

After mile 3, Chris decided to go faster and I happily let him go.  He’s definitely faster than me on a good day, but that easy 8:10 pace was harder for me because of the tired body.  Surprisingly, when I got to mile 4, my pace was faster.  Mile 5 had me at 7:55.  I was happy to see it, but also concerned that maybe I was putting too much effort into the initial portion of the race, and that I’d suffer badly towards the end.  But, by mile 8, I felt great.  I decided to push miles 8 and 9 and did them in 7:45 and 7:50 respectively.  I couldn’t believe it!  Finally, once the course made the final turn onto the West Side Highway, I settled into a decent 8:00 pace and stuck to the shadiest part of the course.  Nutrition was good, hydration was good, attitude was good, feet felt good, music was great, etc.  When I hit the mile 12 marker, I found another gear and put up at 7:29 split.  When I crossed the finish line and looked at my watch, I was amazed to realize that I had just run my second fastest half-marathon time ever.  WHAT?!  After Saturday’s efforts?  After I could barely rise out of bed that morning?

I don’t have a lot of answers for why the run component has been good to me this year.  Maybe it’s experience, maybe it’s the base training, maybe it’s the focus on hills, maybe it’s the intervals I do on treadmills, maybe it’s the now-solid state of my knee post-surgery, and maybe it’s the evolution of an endurance athlete.  Whatever the reason, I’m beginning to develop some confidence and it feels good.  I can only expect even faster results when the season heats up.  After all, it’s only March!!

The rest of the day was fun.  Fernando and I met up near the finish line, and we headed to visit Rafael who was house-sitting near the race finish.  A bottle of champagne later (who cares that it was early!), we headed to our respective homes.  I ate, showered, relaxed, and reveled in my perceived successes.  I did however have a football game at 5:30, and getting there was no easy feat.  I walked like a robot onto the field, barely bending my knees or flexing my calves, but once on the field, adrenaline took over.  On our first defensive set, I intercepted a ball near our end zone and nearly ran it back for a TD, but got caught at the 5 yard line.  I knew, as I was running with all that I had in me, that I’d get caught.  Even now, as I play that back in my mind, I’m pissed.  I kinda want that guy who caught me to know that with fresh legs, speed would be a non-issue but I don’t really care that much.  It was just fun to be out there with friends.  And really, my legs weren’t problematic; my toes were.  All those hard stops and foot plants did a number on the little piggies after they endured nearly two hours of pounding earlier in the day.

So that’s it.  Three races in 8 days.  Next up is the March Madness Biathlon on Sunday, March 28th.  I just wrote down my times from the other seven times I competed and hope that this weekend will produce the fastest results yet, but even if not, I’ll just be happy to be out there.  I know lots of friends are also slated to compete, so like this past Sunday, it’ll be another social call.