Tom

The past 7 or 8 days were nuts. Peak training week. Ungodly high temps. Serious business "developments". And to top it all off, a friend died.

I'm kind of mad about the friend dying thing. Being as young as I am, even with my military background, I haven't had that many people that I know, family or friends, die. My friend was only a year older than me. I say friend, yet I'm positive I did not know him well enough.

Tom and his wife Lisa started as customers of Diana - she did some design work for them, including a remodel of his restaurant where I first met Tom, "McHale's Chophouse". It was absolutely the best food I've ever eaten. Tom cared about every plate that was ever served, and came out to check on his customers often. Oh, the calamari, and prime rib...it was all just awesome! He grew tired of his time away from family (he had 3 young boys) and the headaches of owning a restaurant (and a bar, and another restaurant) and closed down my beloved McHale's! I was NOT the only one in Brandon who was angry that day for sure.

But that's not why I'm mad now.

We had dinner at Tom and Lisa's house once, maybe twice, and met them out as well - Di continued to have a business relationship with Tom and a friendship with Lisa, but for some reason I never really had time (or made time?) for Tom. Now he was a busy man too - it's not like he called me, ever, or I called him and tried to get together for a beer. It just never...happened.

We had some things in common, Tom and I - he went to Cornell the same time that I went to West Point. He was riding a bike a couple years ago... actually he stopped riding just as I was starting to. We both struggled with our weight and size, and talked of diet and exersize. We both loved food. Tom was a lineman - played for the Bucs, the Eagles and the Dolphins. He still weighed-in close to 300 on a good day, and I don't know....big guys just seem to get along. He had way about him - he was just great to be around.

I'm not sure when I learned, but Di told me one day that Tom was in rehab. He was in constant pain as a result of his injuries earned during his football days, and had succumbed to a habit he was working to break. When I heard, I thought, "Tom's a strong dude - he'll be ok soon enough", and I really didn't give it much more thought. I got updates from Diana through his wife Lisa, and it seemed like he was struggling more than I would have figured, but not so much that it caused me concern. Why wasn't I concerned? I don't know, really I don't. I guess I just thought so highly of Tom that I figured he'd fix it.

So I missed out. That's what I'm mad about. I had a chance over the last 5 or 6 years to get to know a really great man and I blew it. No, I don't think I could have influenced him in any way to change the circumstances causing his death. He had plenty of friends - good one's in fact - and his family was loving and there for him as well. Selfishly - I just wish I'd have known him better. I know he would have added to my life.

Tom will be missed. If it's possible, or makes sense, I wish I could be missing him more.

Sizzle

I sit here sunburned and bleary-eyed, baked from a day in the beautiful Florida sun, and read my delicious comments from friends afar. And chuckle.

An off-comment about our short Spring, true, was a complaint about the lack of temperate temperatures. I know some of you are still digging out of the effects of Mr. White Christmas. Posting pictures of your POV covered in whiteness other than pollen garners sympathy from The Dot Bigun and other bloggers living below the arctic circle. Throwing snowballs in April, instead of beach balls, just makes me shake my tanned melon as I dive headlong into my not-quite-warm 70 degree pool to cool off after a run in the heat of the day.

While I don't feel your pain, well, I can certainly laugh at, I mean, with you! Where it's OK to gripe about the barely visible mercury, untoward comments visa-vie the Heat Miser bring scorn and contempt. The mere mention of the activation of a sweat gland at low heart rates triggers showers of hate mail and the resentment of the owners of not-quite-thawed bones.

I'm sorry, people!

If you didn't hear it, that was a heart-felt, sincere apology from the.bigun. I'm sorry you have to live in such conditions. To endure the hardships of the pilgrims and the first settlers of this great nation, suffering whilst they cuddled next to open fires. Braving howling winds and biting cold just to get in another lap at the local high school track...well, um, I mean, that's you...not them.

Soon you, too will have high humidity and double-digit UV forecasts! Your lakes will thaw. Flowers will bloom. Browns and greys will be replaced with greens and the colors of daffodils and honey blossoms. And when your thick, gooey red-blood-cell-rich frozen tundra blood does it's first run through warm, moisture laden air with the hot sun beating down your pasty-white skin - you too will bitch about the heat.

And I'll be right here laughing.

Editorial Commentation: Please, oh please take this seriously and comment back about what a heartless bastard I am. Get good and mad I wrote this - the anger might just warm you up a bit...bwahahahaha! (oh, and POV - Privately Owned Vehicle - one of those military vernaculars...)

A rant, of sorts...

I may be way off base. The lack of character in the actions of this RD (who will remain nameless) astounds me, but I'm open to dissenting views.

Here's the situation: I sign up for this race a day before the published document says that the price will go up. The company with which I did this transaction was Signmeup.com - a first for me as I am used to using Active.com - and for some reason Signmeup was using GMT as their web clock, and at 9pm my time (eastern) it was already the next day according to their website. I immediately shot an e-mail to the RD expecting that he'd be happy to know about this messed up situation and that he'd also take steps to refund my overcharged $5.

Right. The RD's response: "Sorry, Marc, I have no control over the time that Active changes the price on the date that I specify" Wow. I wonder if he has control over other mundane things, like Police directing traffic or First Aid stations?

My quip back: "So does that mean that you won't be sending me the $5 extra dollars I spent on your race?" was followed up with his ever-so-kind, "Yes-" and that was all he said. Of course, I'm angry. I really feel like this guy is stealing $5 from me; it just seems like it should be obvious.

I write him back, "Of course, they (SignMeUP.com, not Active) sent the extra $5 to you, and you do have control over your hand which signs checks - I guess the "easier wrong" in this instance is to do and say exactly what you said in your e-mail, but the right thing to do is to simply write a check for $5 and mail it to me. You have $5 of mine that you shouldn't have.

Now you also have a triathlete who will never sign up for another of your races (I think I've done 2 or 3, plus this one coming up), and will tell all his buddies on his blog and podcast that you could care less. Maybe even make some noise over at Slowtwitch. Sure it's only $5...but it's only $5 for you too. I wonder who all else will agree with me on this subject? I'm disappointed.

Marc"


Am I making too big a deal over this? This is an experienced RD with 20 years of managing events. He's probably good at it - he manages events for NA Sports among others. When a person of his influence shows such a careless attitude towards my hard-earned dollar, and is nonchalant about his own integrity, then I really wonder how else he's effecting ethics in the Triathlon Community. This really erks me.

Later that day, I got another e-mail from the RD - "Sorry, I am not able to refund your $5.00. I would be glad to offer you a $5.00 discount on any other NTC Race in the future. Just print out this e-mail and send it in with a printed application. They way you do not have to go through the on-line process."

You know, had an Internet vendor overcharged me for some bike tires or an aero-helmet, I'd have gotten an immediate refund of my money, a sincere apology and most likely a discount coupon in an effort to keep me as a customer. With this businessman, I had to rattle his cage before he finally offered to discount me money I've already invested in his company in the off chance I'd ever spend another $100 on one of his races. As if I'd want to go through the mail in process and waste the stamp that he's so reluctant in using.

My promise never to do one of his races again was made in a sincere protest of being treated like my future business meant nothing - his offer of discounting me my own money only serves to infuriate me more. I had honestly hoped that this adult....this man would snap out of whatever character-flawed-haze he was in, realize that his integrity was at stake, and do the right thing. No go. Didn't happen. It's amazing how $5 turns my perception of a man I've never met from being a person respected in the industry as a competent Race Director to a man barely worthy of the bottom of my foot. A stealer. A man of no Character.

I've already paid for this race...so I'll darn well do it. And have fun while I'm at it. But I won't participate in this man's income any longer.

Unfortunately, this promise forces me to withdraw any further attempts at making the EvoTri team. This is in no way a reflection of the EvoTri team or any of it's members - good people all! I cannot, in good character, fulfill the one race requirement of EvoTri team membership - what would it say of me if I ignored a statement I made solely for personal gain? The more I think on this, the more I'm certain it's the right thing to do. For me.

Train to Standard

All of us have been in this situation (yes, even you, Blink)...be it in school, a work training program, in the military, etc. The lesson is done, the points were made, the mission is accomplished - but the block of time allotted for this instruction has not yet expired. The bell hasn't rung yet.

The instructor, or leader of the group, in all their infinite wisdom and time-honored toe-the-line glory, either babbles on with one eye on the clock, the other on his or her sleeping students, or simply states, "we still have 15 minutes - are there any questions?". Train to time. Paid by the hour. One of the most inefficient systems the world has ever seen. How much time have you wasted waiting unproductively for a bell to ring?

This is why the concept of Training to Time, and not to distance, bothers me so. I know, deep down, that it's all the same, really. Anyone can look at their training schedule and see a planned hour run, knowing their training pace, and say to themselves, "ok, lets do that nice, flat 6 mile route...". Feeling slow today? That 6 miler may take 1:02. Or - and perhaps more likely, you'll run for exactly 1 hr, and walk in the remaining distance.

But if you are feeling good - if you worked hard and are enjoying the benefits of a series of awesome training days, your reward is, well, you get to look forward to tacking on some distance to your run or bike to make up for your greatness.

Being uncoached, I have the luxury of doing or training however I damn well please. If I ever do get fortunate enough to be able to afford some needed help and advise with my training, I'm sure it will come in the form of training blocks disbursed in time increments, not distance. Except for swimming, of course. Somehow the "train to time" standard has not yet been found to be important in the pool. You don't see too many, "do 8 sets of 2 minutes, followed by 4 sets of 1 minute and then finish up with 4 sets of 30 seconds going all out..." - no, it's still distance and pace in the pool.

Hey...it works. I know it works - the "train to time" standard that is. Hundreds if not thousands of athletes each and every day wake up looking forward to a 2.5 hr bike with a 45 min run off. Those athletes are successful and so are their coaches. My angst boils down to the "mindset" - the frame of mind that is being ingrained every day with each training session.

With very few exceptions, the mission parameters of a race are set by distance, not by time. 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, 26.4 mile run. Not a 1.5 hr swim, 6 hr bike, 5 hr run. Your reward comes at the completion of distance, not when the clock strikes hour X. I have no evidence to suggest that athletes coached in "training to time" perform any better or worse when they race compared to folks training to a distance standard. Somehow, it just makes sense to me that mentally, when you get to that time goal in a race, and you are still miles from the finish line, the person who, in training, is used to making up that distance will have an advantage over the person used to stopping at an arbitrary time.

Perhaps this is a minor point, hardly worthy of this many words and paragraphs in my already hectic day. I don't even hope to accomplish any sweeping changes or influence any of you reading this, be you athlete, coach or both. Maybe I just don't want you to think me "unread" or "behind the times" when I lament of my last 10 mile run, awesome century ride or brick denoted in miles instead of hrs. Crap! I just realized that I'm turning into "Mr. Super Elitist Old School Triathlon Guy"...please don't pee in my water bottles.

Holidays...Argh!

So I bail out of Tax Class early last night, at 7pm, to get a nice hour swim in, since the pool closes at 9pm. Right. I show up, all the lights are off outside in the pool area. The receptionist there is nearly asleep on the couch. "oh, they left at 6:30 today...no one was using the pool...I thought it was unusual...you should call next time".

What?

I was in the holiday spirit, so no rant in front of the hapless receptionist. I guess I just have to chalk it up to the holidays. Of course, the pool was closed for 3 days around Christmas. So here it is, Friday, and I'm still without a swim for the week. Thanks, BSAC (Brandon Sports and Aquatics Center). For $37 a month, I guess I get what I pay for, right?

I flatted twice on my return to biking yesterday. Welcome back, Bigun! Both were punctures, not pinch flats...and fortunately I had 2 CO2s, and a tube patch kit.

The new 305 Garmin works flawlessly! HR works all.the.time. No adjusting mid ride to get the strap to pick up the beat again. No disconnections. No signal losses. Hassle-free HR training. Who would have thought?

Still sick

I totally missed the weekend's race out at Clearwater Beach with Johnny Tri and his friends that were racing. Crap. I tried to take it easy this weekend, today included, to finally beat this cold, and here it is Sunday morning and I'm still feeling like crapola.

Sorry for the negativity -

If you haven't been there, check out my lovely bride's blog - she's been reporting on our bloggie meet-up in Panama City Beach and posting pictures - all great stuff.

Back to the blankets...

Writer's Block

Usually I'd have put up an Iron Week 30-something by now, but, well, shoot - the past couple weeks have been nearly embarrassingly crappy training wise. So I've been neglectful in my reporting on the training front.

Works been busy, but now that it's October, the grass here is starting to finally go dormant, which means half as much cutting. Now if it would only get cooler. 93 degrees today.

On that note, Florida Challenge Half coming up soon - and no break in the weather thus far. Warm water...may actually be non-wetsuit swim for 1.2 miles. And here I am logging all those swim miles...not.

I am working up an "Intent", and will have a race report coming up soon, so there are some posts on the horizon. Yay.

Bigun's a big jerk

Yea, I'm a bastard. I know it. I live with it. I try not to be, but as I get older...I just get worse. Case in point - I've got little to no tolerance for stupid people anymore. Yes, they are out there. Heck, I may be one of them.

So, last night was the first night of a 7 week, 3 nights a week, 3 hrs a session, class on tax preparation with H&R Block. Yes, the Bigun's going to do taxes this year. Come January, I'm the Tax Man. It's seasonal, it's part time, I can set my own hours, and I find a geeky, unnatural joy in doing taxes.

I get there on time, take a seat and look around...I'm the only dude in the whole class. My inner voice wants to ask if I'm in the right class...then one other dude shows up, and we are two out of about 15. No biggie. No hawties either...I know you were wondering! Up in the front row is Miss Chatty Kathy. Kathy is not her real name, and she has to be a "Miss" cause NO ONE would put up with her on a voluntary basis. This women did not shut up for 3 hrs! One stupid question (yes, oh yes there definitely ARE stupid questions!) after another, off topic questions and comments out the wazzo, and it seemed like every thought she had, she had to verbalize. We all even endured stories of her horrible childhood and miserable relationships - crap you don't talk about in a room full of strangers.

The Bigun kept his cool...and composure. The tax "manual" recommends "study partners" and at the first break, Miss Chatty's already asking around. I had to laugh - the first lady she asks almost said, "not only no but HELL no" but she was nice in her denial, which was surprising, since she seems like a bigger bastard than me. Her excuse was that she's a loner and does things on her own. A rather weak blow off, if you ask me, but effective. I can only hope I don't get the opportunity to give her both barrels. It could get ugly.

And last week...at my favorite bike path...who's there to meet me at mile 37? None other than Mr. Really Needs to Eat a Can Of Shut The Hell Up! And he really flew his true colors on this ride...not only did he talk incessantly (while drafting, of course), but he told of poor sportsmanship habits of his, like when he passes people on a run, he says stuff like, "so, you went out a bit too quickly, eh?" - I can still here his cackle after hearing that story at least twice. I should have told him then that he's an ass, but I just asked him if he thought that was kinda mean-spirited. He said something about making it fun, and I knew any additional comment would be wasted. Ya just don't have a bicycle pump when you need one.

Rain, Rain, go Away!

Got a whole lot of NUTHIN done today! Crud...just a constant rain, one shower after another. So the Bigun stayed home today. Cleaned up the garage. Changed a bike tire and tube. Paid some bills. Crap like that.

Wassup with TV these days? I watch this show called Cheaters - anyone see it? Crazy stuff. And the women were taking the men back, for crying out loud! What kind of message was that sending? Oh, and "Bang! Chicka Boom, Boom!" - Spike TV - good stuff. CSI re-runs are good for a rainy day.

We did get a break in the rain at about 5pm. Too late to make it out for my scheduled bike ride, so I ran instead. I've got to make up today's customer's yards tomorrow - so I'm seriously doubting I'll have time to bike tomorrow either. UG. Could be a good run week though.

Still have some elbow pain on the right when I swim. Starts to ache after 1500 meters, and then the hurting sets in at 2k. So that's when I stopped today. I tried something different for me today in the pool - 1000 m easing into a nice pace, then 1000m of 50m hard and 50m easy, sort of an "active" recovery. Made for an interesting swim.

The run was good too - still a little different for me - 4 miles at base HR - shooting for at or under 140 average HR, then shoot straight up to anaerobic and maintain the HR over 165 (my max is a guesstimate at 182...). It felt really good to stretch it out and run an average of 8:08 for a mile and three quarters. I saved the last quarter mile for a cool down.

The highlight of my day, however, was this really, really good sliced ham I bought at Costco - MAN! What a sandwich it made! Lunch was pretty awesome. Tomorrow's lunch will be good too. Isn't it nice to know ahead of time that a good meal is on the way?

Where's my bike?!?!

Ok, I missed a planned ride on Tuesday. I'm not so rigid that the missed ride will kill me. But now I've got one scheduled for Thursday - and it's not looking too good. Still no bike. Still en route from San Francisco. WTF?

Base workouts are so much fun, aren't they? NOT! This 8.5 mile run this morning took me an hour and 40 minutes. Good grief. I was more than ready for it to be over. Note to self: June in Tampa means Camelbacks on all long runs, for now on. I can't find my Garmin, so I don't know what my HR was for the run, but I kept my perceived effort at minus 3, so I'm sure it was low for the whole run. I may have even taken a nap somewhere around mile 5.

I tried to get to the pool this morning. Set the alarm for 4:45 - got up when it went off! Lo and behold - thunder and lightning at 4:45 am - again, WTF? Some serious rain and wind right along with the loud stuff - I knew the pool would be closed, so back to bed I went - it sure is easy to sleep with the rain on the roof.

Off triathlon - this lawn business is no joke. In this heat, by the time 3pm rolls around, I'm DONE! I've done this kind of work before - like 10 years ago - the Bigun ain't no spring chicken anymore. It's all about perception - in a month or so, 6 lawns in a day will be replaced with 10 and it won't seem like any big deal. Hopefully. Good thing is that I don't feel like eating in that heat all day. I'm drinking a ton of water. And I'm getting a wicked farmer's tan.

Now, do I really look like Howie Long?

Tripping

This blogger world is a weird place for me...I'm not making excuses, just sayin'. I got to get used to it. In the real world, you say something, you can see a reaction, you can gauge body language, you can tell when you are crossing a line or pushing too hard. In blogger world, all of a sudden, it's too late.

I'm from Jersey. Yea, I live in Florida now, but it's not always been suntans and alligators for the Bigun. I grew up with guys like Joey Greco and Billy Tedeschi and a whole group of Italians who just love to "bust chops" all day and see who can come up with the next zinger first. It wasn't much different in college. Anyway...I'd be lieing if I said that I don't enjoy throwing out a zinger or two myself - but without the body language, I really don't know when the line gets crossed.

This post is prompted by an e-mail I got today from a good guy that I'm pretty sure I touched a nerve with a comment I wrote to his blog - and while I meant to bust his chops, I did not mean to show any disrespect or cross a line that I couldn't retreat back over. I hope that hasn't happened, and in further analysis, I'll bet there are other comments and posts that I've written in which I've pushed too hard with people I hardly know.

So it's time for the Bigun to take a couple of steps back. If I seem a bit more careful in my writing in the future, it's on purpose, and it's out of respect for the folks that read this dribble and have so far been supportive of me. I feel like I let you down. And for that, I'm truly sorry.

Get out of my way!

I keep putting my runs off to the end of the week. I hate that! Now I have to try and sneak in 18 miles over the weekend...what am I complaining about? Oh, yea, life - it gets in the way! Instead of running tonight, I'm going to my Regional Founders Day celebration/dinner. A bunch of crusty and less-crusty West Point grads meet for dinner with their spouses and wax poetically about the way things used to be. The Superintendent of West Point, Lieutenant (3-star) General Frank Hagenbeck, will talk for a half-hour about how great the program is and how things will be getting better in the future, and some young 20-year-old Cadet will stand up and talk for a while after him, insuring us that it's still hard a West Point. Blah, Blah, Blah.

I'm as patriotic as the next guy, more so perhaps, but I just don't do military functions well. Having to "suit up", sit at a round table with 5 other couples I hardly know and pass salt around is just not my idea of a good time. You'd hardly guess I sell stuff for a living! I'd so much rather have not postponed my 2-hr run 'till Saturday.

Mrs. B is friends with Hope, who's a classmate of mine and who also is on the Founder's Day Committee - so...it's very hard to bow out of this event anymore. I've been good at it so far - missed it 4 years in a row! Well, time for an attitude check, mister - this will be fun, right? I'll bust bugs after work getting there, drink water while everyone else is drinking cocktails, including Mrs. B, hopefully =;-) and maybe I'll run into someone from my past military life that I used to know. An old friend. Who's name I can't remember for the life of me. Now that's FUN!

Said Tie Returneth

After much fan fair, the Bigun's tie has been returned to it's rightful owner. Surprisingly, Jr has come through as agreed to in prior negotiations, and the exchange took place at 9am. The siege is over - no one was injured in the process. Call off Mrs. Bigun - put your weapons on "safe".

I say "exchange" - actually we are experiencing a snafu in the process. Jr wants his tie back cleaned and pressed - have you ever? Never! "Ugly" will remain here, in my office, until such time as either it is removed by it's owner or it just gets lost somehow. There's a very good chance that some harm may come to this tie - I'm not saying what or when, it's just, well, you know, things happen...

Saga of the Tie

Now take a look at this tie. While it's not a bad tie, there's nothing remarkable about it. I could wear this tie, but it's not one I'd go out and buy. Jr. is holding my tie hostage until he gets his back. He claims that we "swapped" ties; my awesome tie for his mediocre, catchup stained one.

So today, at 10am, we are slated for a tie exchange. Negotiations have been successful, pressure was put to bear, and the Bigun will get his tie back. M. Bigun is happy - since the tie was a present (Mrs. Bigun buys most of the big guy's ties...) and has nearly resorted to violence in order to secure the release of said tie. Let these pictures represent proof of life - we've already seen the Tie d'Bigun, and I've been accused of no longer having this damaged, ugly, wrinkled, tired, stained tie.

Of course, if the tie exchange goes anything like my shoe brush and polish return, borrowed by the same individual and his roommate, I'll have to keep this crappy tie in my office (bound and gagged) for the next couple of weeks. Lets hope not - M. Bigun's prepared to take the next step - full breach.

Moocher

You know, I'm a pretty patient guy. I consider myself to be fairly laid back most of the time, but here's the deal - months ago my friend here, lets call him Junior, gets ketsup on his tie and is SOL. I just happen to have a tie in my truck, so I loan it to him, nice guy that I am. I think that this happened nearly a year ago now. Do I get my tie back - noooooo. Today, Jr. rubs it in my face by wearing said tie to work, and then alleging that we traded ties. Traded ties?!?! What would I want with a ketsup-stained tie? I'm not sure that Blog-land is the place for inter-work spats, but hey, if not here, than where? Little Jr. here is actually the guy who started a group of us down the path of triathlon. He participated in our first race - a duathlon - and then, well, fell off the map. He even went so far as to buy an awesome Cervelo P2K - the black one with the special finish - which has about 2 miles on it, in case any one's looking for a barely used Cervelo with 650 wheels. Look at this tie - it's a nice tie - I miss this tie - I could have worn this tie today. Jr. was also a culprit in the "borrow Bigun's black shoe polish and brush for a month" scam. I like to leave my polish and brush here at work and take care of my shoes as needed - today, finally, after weeks of hounding these guys (it was borrowed for our company Christmas party back in December) I've got my stuff back. I'm sensing a pattern here.