2017, which I wrote zero about but thought a great deal about, was successful by all measures. I raced the same amount, roughly as before but shorter distances focusing on Olympic and Sprint races. I had really good progress to show for 2017, with improvement in all three areas but mostly in my swim. My run took a little longer to get going through the season but ended up showing up strong for my last race of the season where I ran a very nice 5k off a very hard bike effort. As my work responsibility have been ramping up I have found the need to spend more focused time on the practice of triathlon and less leisure base building time. I still wanted it to be a part of my life and I still wanted to race to my capabilities but also make time for other interests of my life. I wanted to make triathlon a manageable and integral part of my life for the next 50 years not the next 5. In order to do this I needed to whittle down my hours per week dedicated to the sport. One of the biggest issues that I had was the most of the triathlon related literature and coaching is focused on athletes that have office based jobs. I however move around a lot in my work as a commercial and industrial electricians apprentice. There is very little down time and as a result I felt like I could handle a more focused intensity sessions and less volume. I realize that this opens me up for potentially more injuries but I do believe that if I stick with my weight training I have swapped in as part of my new routine, specifically focusing on my weak posterior chain, i.e. hips, glutes, and hamstrings, I will lower that risk and as I have seen of lately increase my speed and running efficiency. I will also be preforming more periodic test in running, cycling and swimming to assess my progress. In January I am looking at getting back into the pool after taking the fall off to focus on setting up a solid running base to work from. I want to finish this small note off by saying that I have decided to take on my owning coaching and training schedules as I feel it will require me to be more engaged and not on auto pilot. I have learned so much from Daryl Smith of Advantage Multi-sport, and can never thank him enough for all the patience, time and effort he put into my education and training. I hope to continue from where we left off on the trajectory of progress that we have been on over these last 4 years. Thanks again Coach, I would not be where I am without you and 2018 bring it on. I am ready.
a person who has defeated or surpassed all rivals in a competition, especially in sports
Great way to start a story; definitions, inspirational quotes, pretty much anything you would see on a motivational speakers book jacket or the line from a fortune cookie, that you slammed down after an illasvised order from your local Chinese takeout. Hm, oh the duck is fresh? I’ll take that…anyway back to the point. I usually look down, judge, or smirk smugly from ivory tower of fitness at those who need these things to keep striving for their goals. If you want it, take it. Persistence is really one of the few things I can point to in my life that I have always been able to draw from when I was feeling down. Grit, the grind, doing something just because it felt good to do something. Eating away everyday at something you thought was unachievable. We all have these goals in our lives and for me, my triathlon goals were lofty but achievable. Qualify for age group World Championships at the three major distances, Olympic, Half-Ironman and Ironman. I never stopped to ask why these were my goals, just that these looked good on paper and people would recognize my accomplishments. This thought came to me as I was flying through the first 20 miles of my bike ride at the half Ironman 70.3 in Calgary this July. It was kind of a bad time, I thought, to ponder why I was doing something when the hardest parts lay ahead of me but at the same time, it put me in the right frame of mind. Why did I spend all this time, money, and passion on this endeavour? Why did it matter so much to me to go to the world championship? And then it hit me, it was for all the wrong reasons. The real reason had been staring me in the face the whole time. I want the respect, admiration and amazement of those I cared about. It was not because I loved being in the outdoors, it was not because I loved racing at a competitive level, it was not because I loved pushing myself to my limits. It was vanity. “Man naturally desires, not only to be loved, but to be lovely” Adam Smith once said. I had fallen prey to the very thing I find the most annoying about this sport that I love. I was ” that guy”. From that moment on I dropped the pressure of qualification and just enjoyed the everlasting bliss of the moment. The hammer down in the last 10 miles of the bike, the taste of each gel, the feeling of weightlessness when I transitioned to the run. It all felt real, authentic, pain and pleasure. The turnaround point on the run were I about ran into a awesome volunteer, each cold sponge that I put on my neck, I was running on pure bliss. Till that hill at mile 11. Oh right forgot about that one. I still felt every wonderful step after that though, running on pure endorphins and sense of gratefulness. I was back baby. I realized why I did this sport. Why I signed up for that first race 4 years before that. I was hooked on that feeling. As I crossed the line to the shouts of some of the most important people in my life I felt an overwhelming sense of pride wash over me. Not because I had finished, not because I had set a personal record, but because, I had changed the meaning of the word champion to myself. There is a second definition that I have adopted for the word Champion. The verb of the word. I have become a champion for sport and the power it has to bring clarity, if only for a moment. So did I get the world champ spot, you ask? Yes, by default which was just apropos for the situation. I said no thank you, of course, I didn’t need that carrot anymore. I had the real deal.
This was not going to be a 2016 reflection but it turned out to be a great picture of what 2016 was like. 2017 will be filled with many races and many deadbeat moments. I can’t wait.
Sweet, tangy sauce. Tender fall-off-the bone pulled pork. Lightly toasted white, fluffy, potato bun. Decadently rich smoked gouda Mac’n Cheese, all polished off with an ice cold root beer and punctuated with a generous piece of the sugar crusted cornbread cake, smothered in butter. As I was eating this meal, a monthly treat provided to us by our wonderful boss for a job well done, the passing thought as I slammed a second piece of cake, “I wonder how this is going to affect my race tomorrow?” Oh well, YOLO. I should have said no. I should have stuck to the plan. I should have been a good boy but the inner glutton screamed out for more and I gave it to him. To the point that I felt a tumultuous battle being raged in my digestive tract the rest of the day and even my patented pre-race meal of safe sushi sat like a layer of bricks in my stomach as I laid my head on the pillow. Would I recover in time to push myself when I needed to? Short course racing, unlike the Half Ironman I had done two weeks prior to this race, is a whole different animal. You are basically battling how much pain your muscles, digestive system and fatigue your body feels for the whole 2-ish hours. You are never relaxing, constantly pushing the envelope to your max sustainable effort. I warmed up well for the swim, something I am trying to do more often when I race, as I have seen much better results when I do. My hands cut through the waves like that butter that I had generously piled on top of the cake. Swimming felt good, it sounds weird saying it even now, but swimming has been feeling good as if it is the start of a wonderful relationship. I find myself looking forward to the swim. A chance to put some time into Stuart. A powerhouse on the bike and a very good runner but slightly slower swimmer than me. The air horn blasted and the water frothed with the windmilling of arms of the 50 fastest swimmers. My position was good, heart rate and effort was high but it was only for 12 mins, I just needed to hang on. My hands hit sand and rocks, beautiful dry land. The rest happened like a blur. I jumped up sprinting to transition. Helmet, socks, glasses, take off. Shoes on the bike, strap in and go, go, go. Power to the pedals up the hill, ugh what’s that feeling in the stomach? ignore it. Faster, harder, burning in the legs, stomach pain again. Take some water, a little better. Damn, there goes Stuart! Tried to stay with him for a little but everything hurt too much. Legs, stomach, chest, back off a little, Brent. Save something for the run. Off the bike, feeling ready to hurl. Sprint out of transition, maybe that will cure the stomach pain. Nope, breathing rhythm off, pain growing, legs were not responding. I felt like I was running with jello for legs and lead in my shoes. Not a great combination. At that point my focus changed. Just finish. Make it stop. The rest of the run was a fight to not lose whatever was left rolling around in my stomach. I crossed the line, 4th overall but disappointed in myself. This was the only race where I had not improved on my last years results. I knew even after Victoria only being two weeks before, I had a better race in me than what I had just done. I knew I had not done my best. I knew I only had myself to blame. Some lessons are tough to learn. Diet and nutrition, the fourth discipline, had been ignored and I had paid the price. Never again.
PS my Calgary Half Ironman story is in the works and hopefully some actual content worth reading. Thanks again for your time.
When the alarm rang at 4:30, I was already in a light sleep. I get this way every night before a race. I sleep like shit, and wake up three to four times to make sure I am not missing my alarm, secure in the knowledge that I set the alarm for this very reason, so that I would get up only when it went off. It is a moronic game I play with myself, but so far I can’t seem to help it. 4:30, go time. The checklists begin, teeth? Brushed, Oatmeal? Cooking, Race gear? Ready to go. Pooping? Soon. Everything is going according to plan. One last look at the weather outside, cool but not cold. Perfect. Here we go, out the door 5:00. I figure we will get there with plenty of time. Oh, wait this is a big race. 1800 participants big. 1800 cars with friends and family extra, 1800 neurotic messes running around a public park trying to get their logistics straight. At this moment I am reminded of an ant farm, each person has their tasks, goals, and rewards. Everyone is doing their own thing but we are collectively doing the same goddamn thing at the same goddamn time. I leave the car while my faithful Leslie is trying to find parking and I make my way briskly to the transition area. The feeling in the air is electric but I try to remain calm. Checklist in my head as I run through it again, bike, shoes, running shoes, number OK, got it, air in the tires, done. I want to get in the water for a warm up swim but my time is running short. I hurry out of transition to find that there is a choke-point on the path where the hoards of people are slowed to the pace of molasses on a January morning. I watch the time for swim warm up pass and shrug shoulders. I begin walking to the start area, where there is supposed to be labeled areas for the rolling start, where you take your best guess of your swim time and line up with others of your ability. I planned on being around 35 minutes for the 1900 meter swim and after they announced the swim was shortened to 1500 meters I adjusted my time accordingly. I start to go to the coral and out of the crowd I hear my name, it is my wonderful Leslie who has found me in the throng of wet-suit and swim capped clad people. She wishes me the best, we talk about any last details and she sends me on my way with a kiss. I always love having her at these races, she brings me a sense of calm that I cannot put a price on. As we start to line up in the start chute, I look around me to find that most of the people I am with are being a bit timid in line. This is not a good sign as starts like this can be a bit of a fist fight and I realize too late that I am way too far back in the group. I will have to swim over hundreds of people during my swim. This thought quickly dissipates though as I remind myself to make the best with what I have. The moment is almost at hand. The world goes quiet. The gun goes off! And we don’t move, for a good 5 minutes, which seems like eternity. Finally there is movement and we shuffle to the start line where our chip starts and I am off running through the water like a madman.
The giant mud puddle that we are swimming in known as Beaver lake, is quite grown over with weeds as well. I feel them tug at my arms but I keep fighting, elbows being thrown feet being grabbed, the mad dash continues until about the 500 meter mark, then all of a sudden people start slowing down, I try to maintain my speed but I keep running into people. I get dunked once or twice swallow a big gulp of the lovely liquid and pushed on. I rounded the corner and saw the exit line not a moment too soon. I fought through the last drag net of weeds and up the ramp to dry land. Sweet, sweet dry land. I looked down at the watch, 25 mins and change, not too shabby. A personal record for me and in not the best conditions. Score. I sprint pass as many people as I can in the transition chute. I find my trusty steed and rip off my wet-suit, clip on my helmet, throw on sunglasses and run out of the transition area. I jump on the bike at the start line, things are going great considering and I am loving every minute of it.
I start out the bike trying to settle into a rhythm. Unfortunately there are many, many people that I have to pass as a result of my far back start position. I take off and try to remain calm. “It should feel easy” the words of coach, Daryl Smith, ringing in my ear. It should feel easy, and it does. About 20 minutes in I start putting down some more power playing with some racers as far as pacing and just enjoying the brisk morning sunshine. 56 degrees is a little chilly at 25 mph with just a wet tri-suit but I have had much worse and I am starting to dry out so that is great. I start whistling for some reason, I don’t even remember the tune but I remember that is where I start having fun. I love racing and this is where I come alive. I am fueling with a gel water mix in one of my bottles and water in the other to wash it down. Stay on target Brent, 10 minutes, sip fuel, 10 minutes, sip fuel, smooth power, nasal breathing, and don’t wipe that smile off your face. Thus continues the rest of the ride until I notice something doesn’t feel quite right. I look down and through the bumps and corners my handle bars have come slightly loose at the stem. Well shit. Time to work with this. I take my corners less aggressively and try to keep steady on the descents. I look down at my watch at mile forty, sixteen to go and I am behind pace for my goal but not doing that bad. I stay calm and keep working. Now I can put the power down, holding back still but less and less as the miles tick away. I turn one of the final corners and know that I have about two minutes until I get to run. Time to get ready. Shoes loose, dismount from the bike in 3…2…1..and start running undo your helmet, oh wait rookie mistake. Helmet back on, now you can run the bike over to the stand and transition…bike time 2:30 and counting…
For the last 10 miles of the bike I needed to take a leak, not like it would be nice if I could but bladder bursting pressure. To the point I was getting a stomach ache. Now I know that in a 4 hour plus race of consuming enough liquid to keep you hydrated, most reasonable people would stop and find a nice bathroom and take a wiz. Not triathletes, we think that we need to urinate on ourselves in order to save that precious 30 seconds. I say this out of jealousy. I have yet to fully be able to piss myself on the bike. Maybe someday I will develop this skill, or lose bladder control or who knows but it was not this day. Before I started running I HAD TO PEE. I ran into the port-a-john and pissed the best feeling piss I can remember. Other than that one time at Oktoberfest in Munich…but that story is for another time. I fly out of the door with fist held high, the race could end right there, I felt like a million bucks. Time to start running.
The run course followed around the lake with two small climbs at the end of each loop. My goal going into it was to “negative split” the loops, i.e. the second faster than the first. I have been working on pacing for the last couple months specifically half marathon pacing off the bike and I felt like I was nailing it after the first couple miles. Nice and steady, keep the rhythm, keep the energy. Coke at this aid station, water at the next, mile 3 mile 4, the miles kept clicking by I passed my coach at an out and back section and he yelled some words of encouragement which I yelled back. I was feeling great. Oh right, I have to run another one of these. Damn, for a moment I feel the gravity of that sink in. I see Leslie on the lap and she yells something nice I am sure, I yell back “I love you” or something like that. After that first lap I refocus and reset the mind. Time to put some pressure on. A little faster, pick up the pace, you got this. Last 5k time to really put it down. I am off my goal pace but there is not much left in the tank and I might have been a little over ambitious with my goals in the beginning. I grit my teeth for the last hill and charge down it. The end is near and I can feel it. That sweet feeling of crossing the line. That moment of pure joy and exhaustion followed by the rush of dopamine. High fives are shared, times are assessed, joking and excusing I mean analysis begins. I try to drink the moment in, savor it all. Since my first half-ironman I have shaved off almost 45 minutes. Final time is 4:36 something. 12th in my age group, 88th overall out of 1800 with about 30 pros mixed in there as well. Great day, great weekend, a great sign of things to come. Onwards and upwards.
Stats (if you are into that sort of thing) Also congratulations you made it to the end. Yay for you.
No I am not talking about a symptom of a night of imbibing in a few too many spirits, but better still a Triathlon in Ellensburg Washington that rides up and over a hill with that very name. I had heard how this was a notoriously hard bike course and after my near misses and progress at the last couple races, I was hungry for something big to happen. The wind was blowing at a good clip, about 20 mph when we arrived at the river where the swim portion was being held. My coach Daryl said, “This is your course Brent. It is a rough swim and a giant hill for 12 miles on the bike with a headwind the whole way, it was built for you” We started the swim and I was determined to not let the front group put too much time into me. I came out of the water in 29 minutes, for a mile swim it was not bad.Swim stats I got on the bike and went to work. As you can see from the bike file of the race, it was a rough slog up with the hill and I caught first place at about mile 10, from there I put it in my mind to put as much time as I could into everyone else. When I am in that much pain on the bike I always remember the words of one of my personal hero’s, world champ Sebastian Kienle, “If it is hurting me, it is killing them” I pushed on and after what seemed like an eternity, I saw the transition zone and hopped off the bike in a great state of mind. I would find out how far the others were behind at the turnaround point at mile 2. I ran at a good pace, and was feeling great at the turnaround point. I kept on the lookout for 2nd place. When I saw them I gained hope. They all looked tired and I knew all I had to do was finish. I hit the last hill and got a side ache but slowed a little and ran through it. When I saw the finish line I was overjoyed and hit the tape in Peter Sagan fashion.Run Stats I might have been watching a little too much Tour De France lately. Afterword I did a small interview with the local paper and it felt amazing when second place came in 3 and a half minutes back. I am always humbled and amazed at the support of my girlfriend Leslie, my coach Daryl Smith and everyone that works so hard at these events. Thanks to wander brewing with supplying me fuel for the journey. Looking forward to stepping up the competition at Lake Meridian here in August. Here are the links to the newspaper articles if you wish to see some quality journalism. http://www.yakimaherald.com/sports/recreation/bellingham-s-hartwig-wins-whisky-dick-triathlon/article_b1c47bf6-34f1-11e5-844a-33168d839f38.html
Very few races have required me to dig as deep as the last mile in this one, and I did so while watching 3rd place slip through my fingers no matter how hard I tried. Every race I have had this season has been many lessons learned and this was true once again for this race. As you can see in this picture at the finish line I had done everything I could have but all a little too late. This is the nature of short course racing you have very little time to react and to eat deficits put into you on the swim but enough with the caveats. The start was perfect, perfect weather, perfect companions and perfect water temperature. It was a out and back course of a little less than half a mile, the gun went off and the sprint was on Swim stats. I swam well, a little conservative but well. Unfortunately I had to clear my goggles twice because of water and swam a lot of it peaking out of one eye so considering that I was very happy with 12 minutes coming out of the water. I then proceeded to follow my race plan which was to try and chase down the race leaders on the bike. I knew that I would have to have one of my best rides ever to chase down the strong bikers of Kyle Carrick and Chris Hughes as I knew they would be out of the water before me. I did not account for another local strong biker, Joseph Giannetto, after dispensing with him, or so I thought, I went to work looking for the leaders. It was not until the second part of the bike section that I realized Joe had latched on to my back wheel. Now this was a non-draft legal race but I had never dealt with someone drafting off of me in a race so it was weird. I made up my mind to race my race and not worry about what he was doing. As we headed in for the last downhill section before the big climb, aptly named “Bertha” out out of Fairhaven, Joe passed me and I dropped back to the three bike length out of the “draft zone” I tried to pass again twice but he was on fresher legs then me so I decided to wait for “Bertha” to try to make my move. I sprinted up the hill and did not look back flying into transition to the run, T2, I dismounted got my shoes on, to the cheers of my family and friends and ran off. (Bike stats) The ride had put some pain in my legs and so for the first two miles I tried to find my rhythm. At mile 2.2 I saw 2nd place, Kyle Carrick, who is a world class runner, and a slight bit of hope hit me. I put some gas on the fire but no response so I settled into a rhythm again and tried to hang on for the second lap, knowing the whole time that Joe was chasing me down. On the second lap I was shooting for a negative split of time from the first lap compared to the second. I was running through and Joe caught me at mile 4 out of a 5.2 mile course. I was spent but he spurred me on with encouragement to run my fastest mile split and finish strong. We sprinted the last 200 meters and he beat me out by 5 seconds for 3rd place.(Run Stats) I crossed the line exhausted by thrilled with my 4th place overall and a personal recorded from last year off 6 minutes shaved off my total time. The beer and Ice cream did flow, let me tell you! Next race is The Chelanman and I look towards it with great anticipation as I have a couple of hard build weeks here and am feeling great right now.
- 1:40:46 Overall
- 12:29 Swim
- 1:09 T1
- 52:11:00 Bike (fastest)
- 0:43 T2
- 34:17:00 Run
P.S. Also got my pic in the paper woot woot
So let me start off by saying that the race was indeed a great success, just in case I failed to bring that point across. The Location of the race, in Moses Lake, Washington and the weather which had been quite warm had finally cooled off to a pleasant 80 degrees. The lake was warm at 75 degrees and I was worried about it becoming a non-wet-suit legal race. As a adult onset swimmer, the idea of a non wet-suit race makes me shutter as it adds about 15% of a time penalty because of the decreased buoyancy provided by the wet-suit. My childhood friend Dan made the trip with me and we found a great place to camp out and did a quick run through of the course to familiarize ourselves. I was nervous that my legs had not recovered from my Mt. Baker climb the weekend before but in the run through they felt great so it was time to put them up and grabbed some dinner. I have had great luck with sushi as a pre-race meal as it has a good balance of rice carbs, which my body loves, fats and proteins. With sushi ate and the last gear check finished we closed up the tent and got some sleep. The morning greeted us with clear sky’s and comfortable temperatures, as we made our way to the course. Set up was a breeze and I got in the water for some warm-up strokes. Recently my coach, Daryl Smith, had tweaked my stroke length and I had seen significant improvements in the pool but as this was the first race of the season I had yet to see if it translated in the open water. We all lined up in the water and the gun went off at 8:00 am. With heart pounding in my chest I battled for the first buoy. I found several people to draft off of during the race and I felt as if several times that led me a little off course so as I came out of the water I was expecting a time of 28 minutes or so for covering the 1 mile distance. I was blown away, 24:30! (Swim Stats) I went to work on the bike picking off people as I went and approaching the turnaround on the out and back course. I saw one rider on a beautiful Cervelo P5 (a 10,000$ bike) coming fast back. My heart sank a little as I saw his ITU jersey with his name on the back, signifying that he had been to the world champs at some point in his career. Still, on I fought, pushing that much harder. (Bike Stats) I flew into transition and found my legs quickly off the bike. The goal was to keep comfortably fast off the bike, with a good rhythm until the turn around on the 10 KM course. I saw the leader again when he hit the turn around and it looked like I was slightly gaining on him. I put the hammer down but my form fell to shit and as a result so did my split on mile 4. I regained composure on mile 5 and waited till mile 6 to hit it again. (Run Stats) My legs responded better and I finished the race with a time of 2:01:53, 2nd place overall, and with PR’s in all three categories! I conversed at length with the race winner Mike Vrbanac, a racing legend, who had just moved back from North Cal and learned a great deal about racing in general. It is amazing to talk to someone with over 30 years of racing under their belts and still going strong at 57 years old! Inspirational for sure. Overall i could not be happier with the outcome and I feel very good about the upcoming races for the rest of the summer. Also this is my new pump song. Racer X out.