Race Day: Come and See Us!

It's finally here!

The Nautica NYC Triathlon date is finally upon us: this Sunday, July 18, 2010. We're excited as all get-out!

If you are in or around the NYC area and would like to come watch us do this thing on Sunday morning, we would love to see you. Seeing friendly & familiar faces cheering along the way will make a big impact on us!

For starters, the the NYC Triathlon people have put together a fantastic, really informative Spectator Guide, which you can download here. But here are some answers to important questions:

Where can you see us? The Spectator Guide lists locations where you can watch us for the swim and the bike if you want...but we're starting the swim between 6:30 and 7:30 AM and you'll never find us in our identical wetsuits, goggles and swim caps, and we'll (hopefully) be going by on the bike portion rather quickly, so you may want to skip these and wait to see us during the run. We run along West 72nd Street from Riverside Dr. into Central Park, so anywhere along West 72nd is a great place to catch us. (Plus, we'll still be relatively fresh!) From there, feel free to catch us at any other point in Central Park during the run, especially further north where there are likely to be a few less spectators than around 72nd. The map is enclosed in the Guide, but 90th and 5th is probably also a great place to catch up with us.

When can you see us? This is a little tricky; we don't have exact length times for each portion, we start at different times, and Jason is dealing with a foot injury that may leave him slower than usual. We also haven't done this before so we can't be sure of how long it's going to take us to transition from each individual portion. You should be able to catch both of us if you are on West 72nd Street by 9:15 AM. Jessica should be coming by at around 9:30 and Jason should be coming by at around 10:30. Again, these are very rough estimates and they could be wrong, but if you're on West 72nd by 9:15, it's unlikely you will miss us.

How do you spot us? There will be a lot of people in the purple Team In Training colors, but we're sure you'll be able to pick us out. Just scream our names LOUDLY so we hear you and can stop over for a wave and a (sweaty) hug. And cheer loudly for others, too, especially Team in Training triathletes! ("GO TEAM!" is the standard TNT battle cry.) As our friend Sarah says:

DON'T be apathetic in your cheering--a slow clap and a halfhearted cheer is a big eff-you to runners. DO make colorful, encouraging signs and lots of noise...just generally attempt to distract us from the pain for a few happy moments!

Here's what Jess plans on wearing, modeled beautifully at our Coney Island open-water swim last week:


And here's what Jason plans on wearing. (He may or may not have a mohawk on race day.)


How do you get in contact with us? We won't have our cell phones with us as we race. However, Jason's mother Marion is a good person to call to arrange getting together the day of the race, and we'll try to text her at transition areas if possible so she knows when to expect us. Her cell is (917) 837-2695. Backup cell: Gary at (516) 770-1101.

Can we hang after the race? Most definitely! There's a "Family Reunion" area by Naumburg Bandshell, mid-park between 68th - 72nd Streets. There should be signs, and if not, ask a staffer! We will be calling Marion from a call center as soon as we're done. And we'll be having a small celebration from 3 - 5 PM at our friend Raz's apartment -- you can either e-mail one of us this week for the address, or contact Marion on the day of the event.

Any other questions? Shoot us an e-mail or phone call (by Friday, please -- we hope to be off the grid by Saturday morning).

As always, thank you for your support and good wishes. We hope to see you on Sunday!

Our Hero

Often on Sunday mornings, I'll get up early, grab my bike, and head from Astoria to the other side of the George Washington Bridge. It's somewhere between 45 and 70 miles round-trip. Because I often do at least 30 miles of this trip alone and I don't carry an iPod, I'm left with a lot of time to entertain myself. Sometimes I'll sing, sometimes I'll make up word games in my head, and I do a lot of thinking.

Lately, I've been mostly thinking about you.

When Jessica and I signed up for this event in the beginning of January, we knew we had to raise, at a minimum, $2700 each. This is the amount Team in Training asks you to commit to in order for them to provide you with your training experience and donate a significant amount to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. $5400 total, which was more than either of us had ever raised before. It was a daunting number to both of us. One person even told me that they doubted we'd be able to raise our minimum in this economy.

As of today, we have raised $13,755. By the time some matching donations come in, we'll have raised over $15,000.

(Pause for reflection.)

Whenever I tell people what we're doing, they say two things. The first thing they say is "It's amazing that you're doing this triathlon," followed by "It's amazing that you've raised all this money." I want to break those down.

1) "It's amazing that you're doing this triathlon."

Okay, I'll admit that I too think it's a little awesome. But I also think that the hardest thing about doing a triathlon is making the commitment to do it. I have seen people of all different shapes and sizes in all sorts of physical condition put themselves to the test during our training sessions, and watched with pride and amazement as they've pulled themselves through. Case in point: in February, Jessica went for her first run and didn't get more than two blocks without turning around because she was too out of breath to continue. Now, she tackles six miles at a time, twice a week, often after working a 12-hour night shift on her feet AND after biking for a full hour immediately prior. This is a woman who once swore the only way she'd run was if chased by someone. With a knife. She is a machine (and, if I may say so, looks phenomenal).

If any of the above puts a little hint in your head of "maybe I could do a triathlon," I say DO IT! Because you can. And if possible, do it with Team in Training. It's a huge time commitment, but it's easily the most rewarding thing I've ever done. (If you're just curious at this point, I recommend this book, recommended to me by longtime friend, mentor and triathlete Mike Graffeo.)

Granted, I haven't done my triathlon yet, and I've certainly had my share of challenges along the way -- but I'm willing to bet the farm that even if things don't turn out exactly the way I want them to, I'll have walked away (limped away?) with an amazing experience.

So yeah, it's amazing that we're doing a triathlon. But again, I think lots of people can do it.

2) "It's amazing that you've raised all this money."

Unlike training for a triathlon, not everybody can raise all this money. Fundraising can be more difficult than training; you are asking people to open up their wallets and not only believe in the cause, but to believe in you and the time and effort you'll be putting into it -- often before you've really done it yet. You're asking people to take a leap of faith with you, and put their money where their mouths are. It's a risk on both ends. Many people struggle throughout the season to raise the money, and some have dropped out as a result.

But we didn't struggle. We never struggled for a second. And it has very little to do with us, and everything to do with you.

The minute we started sending out e-mails, the donations came pouring in. Almost instantly. The first donation came fifteen minutes after our announcement e-mail. (Actually, the first donation came from a friend who saw a very subtle change I made to my Facebook page, 6 weeks before I even announced it to anyone.) People forwarded our e-mails on to their friends. They shared our blog address and spread the news on Facebook. Friends I met at Who concerts 5-10 years ago popped up and made donations. A friend who (at the time) I only knew through the Internet donated and mentioned it on Twitter, resulting in further donations from complete strangers. Jen Gembs, who sang with us at our benefit concert, sent multiple e-mails to all of her contacts, resulting not only in significant donations at the show but a number of checks from her friends who couldn't make it. (Thanks, Jen!) People affected by the cause sent us money, and people who knew and cared about us sent us money. I went to a fundraising seminar early in this process, and the biggest advice we were given was to just ask for the donations -- to ask everyone -- because you never know who has a connection to the cause and who cares about what you're doing, even if you haven't spoken to them in years. I was skeptical, but they were right.

Fundraising can be difficult, but it's surprisingly easy when you have a strong support system. And we have the strongest support system of anyone we know. We're one of the top 10 fundraisers for the NYC Triathlon. I think we're going to win a duffel bag. :) Even more exciting, we've raised enough that we get to do another triathlon with TNT for "free," and so our training doesn't end here -- on September 12th, Jessica and I will be traveling to Washington, DC for the Nation's Triathlon. (Don't worry, we're not soliciting further donations for that event!)

So yes, it's amazing that we've raised all this money. But we're not amazing. You're amazing. You are our hero, because you stepped up to the plate in so many ways and helped us reach this point. Even if you didn't have the money to donate, but you wrote and sent us a supportive message along the way -- your words of encouragement helped us get through a difficult swim or that sixth mile running in the sweltering heat after work. And I think about you when I'm on my bike, especially during this one hill on River Road in New Jersey. It's a full mile up a very steep hill. It comes exactly 22.7 miles after I've left my apartment, and I start dreading it at mile 21. I try to get an idea in my head of how I'm going to tackle it, but it often goes out the window once I actually get there. So that's when I start thinking about the faith you've put in both of us to raise this money, to do this event, to find a cure. And it gets me through that mile and on my way for the rest of the ride. (Don't get me wrong, that mile still sucks. But it sucks a little less each time.)

If you haven't donated and you'd like to donate, it's not too late. You can make a donation at Jessica & Jason's Fundraising Page (http://pages.teamintraining.org/nyc/nyctri10/goharesgo).

Thank you for being our hero.

Jason & Jessica

Down, But Not Out

I was never much of a runner.

I ran for a few years in college, but not with any athletic purpose -- I ran because a girl on my dorm floor freshman year invited me to go for a run with her, and I really wanted to make new friends. We wound up running through senior year.

I ran for a couple of months in the summer of 2000, back during a rough spot in my relationship with Jess and I did that thing where you try to better yourself so you can convince the other person that you're awesomer than they previously thought. (We may still be together, but I don't think this in particular necessarily helped anything. I did learn "Blackbird" on guitar though and that seemed to have a positive effect.)

Every once in a while in college, I'd have some foot pain, but nothing too significant. It went away within a week.

Back in November, when the triathlon was a distant (but present) thought in my head, I decided to pick up running again. After a week of treadmill running, I took to Central Park. I ran hard and fast, because I knew I had the cardio fitness to back it up (and in my mind, I was invincible!). I didn't have the feet to back it up, though, and around mile 4, I wound up with significant pain in my right foot. I limped all the way home and couldn't walk for a couple of days.

I saw a foot surgeon who took x-rays and MRIs and couldn't exactly find what was wrong. I went to a couple of physical therapists who gave me foot exercises to help strengthen them. (By this point, the pain had oddly spread to the other foot as well, which confounded everyone.)

My feet got a little better throughout November and December, and then in late January, I re-aggravated my right foot while rollerblading with some kids on a weekend trip. Once again, the pain was significant and it wound up spreading to the other foot. More MRIs and this time some acupuncture, and very little relief. At this point, Team in Training group practices had started. I could participate in swim practices (it was too cold for biking), but not run practices. I'd show up at each one to support Jess and do the recovery stretches, but would stand on the sidelines during the actual running. For an active and (presumably) healthy guy like me, it was difficult.

I saw a podiatrist in March who, after looking at my x-rays and MRIs and finding nothing, suggested that the problem wasn't something wrong in my feet, but something about the actual mechanics of my running -- the way my feet hit the ground -- that was the problem. He suggested some (expensive) custom-made orthotics, which I declined (I had only just started working full-time again), and decided to go for a high-end, over-the-counter pair, along with better sneakers (suggested by a running coach who filmed and analyzed my run style).

It took a few different models to find the right one for me, but when I did, I immediately felt better. My feet started to feel like they did before November. I began running with the team in April, going much slower than I was used to in an attempt to build up an injury-free base. After about six weeks, I had gotten myself to the point where every run was injury-free, and the coaches -- knowing my situation and my overall fitness level from swimming and biking -- naturally began encouraging me to pick up the pace and work at full potential. I got my mile time down to 7:24, which wasn't bad considering my background.

In early June, I went for a run one morning -- six miles. I felt great throughout the run and then, on my recovery jog home, experienced some foot pain. It wasn't the same pain as before, but it was reminiscent: the kind of pain that you know isn't just a minor soreness that will go away by "walking it out." Like in November, I limped home and could barely walk the next day.

I saw a (different) foot surgeon who diagnosed me with peroneal tendonitis. He suggested that I wear a removable air cast to stabilize the foot, so the tendon could heal. He suggested I finally get some orthotics that were a custom-fit for my feet. And though he knew there was no way he'd be able to stop be from doing the triathlon, he warned me against the impact running has on the feet.

Needless to say, this has been difficult on me. It was difficult on me back in November through March, but it's more difficult on me now. For starters, we're much further along in our training -- back in February and March, our runs were short and light. Now we're gearing up for triathlon-level running, and while I know I'm physically (and mentally) able to do it, I haven't been able to practice. Also, it's a touch heartbreaking to be injured, get better -- and to really revel in that improvement, to appreciate it every day because you know what it's like to be the other way -- and then go back to being injured again. And it's tough to watch all my teammates go through full practices when I can't. I still show up because there are parts I can do, like the biking and the swimming -- but I'm once again on the sidelines when it comes to the running.. We were all fairly anonymous in the beginning of the season, but now we're all friends. It's harder now.

So I've made adjustments. When everyone else is running, I get on my bike and do something else. I do core strength workouts. I swim. And I talk to myself. I remind myself that this is a setback, but it's not the end. I refuse to let it be the end. I am 100% positive there are ways to change what I'm doing so that I don't have these injuries. I'm exploring them. An orthotic is one way. I'll shortly be exploring a new type of running philosophy and training that has helped many people who previously had issues, and are now running injury-free. I just remind myself: I'm down, but I'm not out. Because I believe the true test of a triathlete -- of a human, really -- is the strength to take adverse situations, look 'em in the eye, acknowledge them, and find a way to overcome them.

That's why I'm writing this post today. I kept quiet about the injuries before because I viewed them as a sign of weakness. But I don't think it is, anymore. I think it's going to eventually be a sign of strength and power.

So what now? Well, I'm out of the air cast. The tendon is healing -- I've walked without the air cast for over a week without any foot pain. I've been doing physical therapy and stretches on my own almost every night since February. I'm reading a book on the running philosophy I mentioned. I just received my new orthotics and we'll see if they improve the running situation for me.

I've held back from running because I don't want to re-aggravate my injury so close to the triathlon. I'll be doing short, light runs between now and then -- no more than three or four miles at most -- and I'm confident that I'll be able to do the triathlon just fine. Maybe not at my 7:24 pace, but I'm not about competing at this point. I'm just about completing it. Always have been. Competing comes later, maybe. Or maybe it doesn't. We'll see.

Thanks for reading.