Respect Your Elders (OR A Weekend of Getting Smoked By Old Guys)

Swim Day (Friday)
1 x 150- Warm-up
1 x 200- 3:00
1 x 300- 4:30
1 x 400- 6:00
1 x 500- 7:30
total- 1650 yards

Bike Day (Saturday)
time- 3:40
distance- 51.64mi

Run Day (Sunday)
time- approx. 1:20
distance- 5.11mi

 Aside from the swim, this was my weekend for getting schooled by guys at least 15 years older than me. This is conservative (read: nice so that they don't kick my ass more next time). I know Dirtbag Diesel is 48, which means he's 18 years older. Dirtbag the Grey is a little older than he is. And Art Doesn'tHaveADirtbagNameYet has got to be at least 15 years older than I am, he's got a son in high school. And each and every one of them took my Dirtbag Ego and laughed at it.
Friday, not so much. The swim set wasn't long and I did it alone. Had a good swim. It was nice to feel good about my fitness level for a few hours.
Saturday morning Dirtbag the Grey and I set out a few hours after Dirtbag Diesel. Diesel is in the midst of training for Ironman New Zealand, and he is putting in the heavy miles. So the plan was to ride north until we passed eachother, then turn around and ride back together. That way everyone gets a good number of miles in. As a side note, "a good number of miles" for Sean equaled just over 120. The Grey and I got out and were riding well, the weather was perfect, and up Pupukea we went. Neither of us likes this climb, though I am trying to convince myself otherwise. I think that if I spend the climb thinking, "This is great. I love this. Bring it on. I want more," I will start to believe it and the masochism will grow. We shall see. Either way, based on how time trialing with the Grey had gone during other rides I thought I'd be hanging with him on the climb. Yeah, that or he'd disappear and leave me to struggle alone. Oh well, I pushed and I pumped and I got out of the saddle a few times and I did make the climb a few minutes quicker than Monday. The getting out of the saddle thing is something I struggle with no because it's too hard, but because I don't know how much I'll use it come race day. Standing blows out my legs quicker, and it blows out different muscle groups which, I think, I'll be using for the run. So I'm sitting tight and grinding. Gotta get the cadence up.
We met up with Diesel just after the climb, when he was around 75 miles, and made our way back. And they left me in the dust again. I swear I was pushing, I don't have any idea how I got dropped so fast. But I was hurting. And then I got dropped again going up Pineapple Hill. Again, faster than Monday, but not fast. I'm not even sure my ego will let me give the climb a decent DSQ because my legs were too toasted to allow me to push like I wanted to. I'd ask, and they would give for a minute or two, then it was be back down and grinding again. Frustrating, because I was trying to hurt more and couldn't find it. Like Diesel keeps telling me, I've gotta get some repeats on Pineapple happening. I've gotta get stronger. My, what big hill repeats you have, Dirtbag. All the better to suffer with, my dear.
Today was a new adventure in trail running. I met with Art DHADNY up Pupukea, but at a different trail than I've run with Sean and his crazy ultra-running friends. Art is the parent of a student I had last year, and fresh back from Baghdad. Art is a BAMF. How do I know? He told me stories about how in the sandbox he would only have time to run during his lunch break, so he'd leave and go out for a 5 or 10k and come back. "But Art," I gasped, "isn't it like 9,000 degrees in Iraq?"
Yeah," Art smiled, "it would get around 120 or so. And then when you get back the water tanks have heated up from the sun so your shower is hot too."
"...Oh."
I also can't top a story that includes the words, "...after a firefight sometimes you aren't sure if you used 70 cans of ammo or not when you're filling out the paperwork." Not that I would have been able to even if I did have a story better than that. There was plenty of up and down and up some more on today's run and boy was I huffing and puffing. Art was too, but he was talking most of the time. Why do I always find runners who can talk? I can barely not fall off the trail. I'd post the elevation profile but my Garmin's battery died halfway through the run and Art sent me his data, but I'm not bright enough to open the file. So you'll have to trust me when I say there was a ton of climbs. Damn worth it, though. You break through the tree line and the whole North Shore coast is laid out beneath you, makes all that hurting worth it. I didn't have my camera or my phone but Art did. I asked for the pictures and they are posted below so that all you mainlanders can look at them, then look out your window at your silly winter, sigh, and then have the sad.
I love training with guys faster than me. It pushes me to get faster. it makes me suffer greater. And the fact that most of them are near or above my dad's age? Well that's just something my ego has to take. If it gets too bad I'll make them join me for a swim.

The golf balls are where the radar tower that picked up the Pearl Harbor attack was. Cool, huh?