A study in Minnesota shows that swimming in syrup is as easy as water:
The reason, explains Cussler, is that while you experience more "viscous drag" (basically friction from your movement through the fluid) as the water gets thicker, you generate more forwards force from every stroke. The two effects cancel each other out.
I don't think I'll be working out in goo too soon, though.
The past week has been a whirlwind of activity. I turned 29, closed in on 23 pounds, and furthered the training.
Kris was able to score my membership at the UW facilities for way cheaper than expected, so now I can start swimming my self back into shape. The first day was a rough 1500 yards, but I know that it will get easier. I think I have to get some new suits, 'cause the old ones are really getting big.
I'm still on the next smallest belt loop notch. The new pants I bought with a smaller waist have already been deemed (by others) as too big. I usually shop for shirts in XL, but had to pass many of those up on the sale rack to hunt for the few larges that were left. All fit very nicely.
I'm over the 250 mile mark on Sting, with a 40-mile ride today to Oregon (the City, not state) and back. Kris kindly reminded me that we'd only done one-third of the Ironman 112 miles. So far, but not nearly far enough. The goal is to complete one loop (about 70 miles) of the Ironman course by the time the snow flies. Running continues as well, with a few more ~5 mile runs. A half-marathon next Memorial day sounds very doable.
I'm hovering around the 190 pound mark, closing in on the 185 pound goal. Because of the Birthday, we kind of let ourselves go on Friday. We had greasy, cheesy burgers at Dotty Dumpling's Dowry, the best burger joint in town. Throw in a basket of fries and the bestest fried cheese curds around, and you've got a blown diet. Amidst all that, I stayed whatever course I could and avoided any beer. All that grease tasted so good, but I know it's so bad. Don't worry, we stocked up with lots of salad, eggs and turkey-meats at the grocery store tonight, so there's nothing to worry about.
Finally, oodles of thanks to everyone for the well wishes and support. It means a lot to me to get your messages.
Much of the feedback from my Fat Rob post was an updated picture of the "Skinny Rob." I promised most that it would come from this weekend's festivities. Unfortunately, only one came out:
I discovered today that I was very lucky to get registered for the Ironman. What filled in two days last year, only took 13 hours this year.
Also, leading up to the race was the controversy of paint sprayed on the roads of the bike route by fans. Locals were extremely upset with that and the fact that they have to close down their streets multiple times a year for biking events. All of this appearently boiled over to a very dangerous situation when nails were found on the road the morning of the race. Several athletes punctured their tires, and some could have had a slow leak and experienced a blowout while on a downhill section. It took some nice people of a local club to smooth everything over by taking driveway sealant and sand to cover up the paint left over from the race. Hopefully, the good tidings will remain throughout next year when I start taking regular rides out there. Maybe I'll write, "I'm your friend" on my shirt.
The big annoucement Friday helped my focus take shape. No longer was a hiding a dirty secret, and I received overwhelming support and kind words from everyone. Thanks much for that.
I haven't posted a workout update in some time. I've been busy updating the workout site, as well as working out. Six out of the past seven days I've been on the bike or running. Saturday I had my longest run yet: a meager 5 miles in 48 minutes. The good news is that's way better than I went in the Crazylegs run in April, and I wasn't even trying as hard.
I'm taking today off, and possibly tomorrow to rest my legs. I say possibly, because if I can get a membership to the UW system between now and then, I'll start swimming. I also bought The Triathlete's Training Bible to guide me through the next year. It's jam packed with great advice and tips.
As for the diet, I'm hovering around 20 pounds lost, putting me at 193. This morning, I had to use the next tighter notch on my belt in order for it to fit. I've never used that notch before.
Note: This is a copy of an e-mail I sent to my friends and family. I got an overwhelming positive response from them, so I decided to post it here for everyone to enjoy.
This past Monday morning, I fulfilled a promise I kind of made to myself about a year ago. I registered for the Ironman Wisconsin. At 7 AM on September 11, 2005, I will begin swimming 2.4 miles, followed by biking 112 miles, and finish running 26.2 miles. This will be no small feat. I will be training extensively over the next year to prepare my body for both the physical and mental test that lies ahead. I am well on my way with a new road bike, the shedding of 19 pounds (with more to go), and most of all, the encouragement and support of Kris. I've been running and biking, and swimming is not far behind.
I'm sure you're asking yourself, "WHY?" For the past three years, Kris & I have volunteered at the Finish Line (and yes, it deserves capital letters) of the Ironman. It leaves you nothing short of awestruck and inspired to see so many people overcome the stress of continuously moving their bodies for nearly 17 hours. After the first year, I thought to myself, "I could do this." but never followed through. Last year, after the race I laid out a plan in my head to lose weight and compete in sprint triathlons this year to see if the Ironman was doable. Well, the weight never came off, and the sprint triathlons were forgotten. Now that the weight is gone, different opportunities present themselves. One of which was the Ironman.
But there's something more. I can't put a finger on it, but there is something deep down that has been nagging at me to go through with it. There's an overwhelming emotional desire to finish. To turn the last corner on the run, buoyed by the cheers of thousands lining that final stretch, would be so cool, I can't even begin to tell you what that would mean to me. I want to cross The Line so bad. But there's this 140.6 miles that have to be completed before that last turn. The past year has been spent questioning that desire, wondering if the pain will be worth it. The debate in my head kept leading back to a memory my brother Mike and I had a long time ago.
One summer night, Mike and I biked to the gas station, loaded up on candy and ended up in a field where he said he would come "to chill." I must have been down in the dumps, because we discussed a lot of different motivational things. There's one quote he said that sticks with me, "There is always a first in everything you do." It's that simple. No matter what you do, you have to suck it up, develop the courage and do it the first time.
I want to cross The Line and be an Ironman, but I have to go through a lot of pain to get there. That's what I have to do for the first time. I have to push my body for longer than it's ever been pushed. Take it to limits that it has never seen. That's what's been holding me back. By pledging to train and forking over a serious chunk of change, I hope that it will hold me back no more.
The next year promises to be a roller coaster of emotion. Kris has taken on the role of emotional support and training partner. She will also be coordinating support efforts during the year and especially for the race next September. My efforts will be logged often on my workout blog. I will post updates my training, weight loss, and emotions that the next year holds.
Lots of people have been very kind to compliment me on all the weight I've lost. We were discussing how the pants are looser, the belt slides around, and the belly doesn't get squished when bending over to tie your shoes. All of which are great reinforcements to lose even more weight.
I mentioned that it would have been cool to keep a photo log of every day since the beginning of the diet. Instead, I looked in the archives and found pictures of a different person. I call him Fat Rob. The honeymoon pictures of nearly two years ago sum it up best. Especially numbers 16 & 41. I do not know this man any more. I am ashamed to even have hung out with him as much as I did. There will be no more Fat Rob.
Kris & I had a very laborious Labor Day weekend, finishing it off with a thirty mile ride near the Baraboo Hills. Dubbed the Ferry Frolic by the local Bombay Bicycle Club, we started in Lodi and worked our way up to the Merrimac Ferry. From there, we completed an extended loop due to a mislabeled map, and worked our way back to the Ferry and then home to Lodi. Overall, about 3 hours of movement, 30.5 miles on the bike and the first test with some real hills.
The aforementioned extended loop featured one hill that kicked my pretty hard. I went against some judgment and got only a double chain ring on my bike, foregoing the "granny gears" that are necessary for easy riding up a hill. What I got was a bit more compact bike, that allows me to power up those hills. The key word there being "power." A sizable hill seems to take that power away, and I was left feeling very winded. But, I made it, and have to tackle many more along the way. Especially if 112 miles are in order.
This morning's scale read 195.8, same as yesterday, and about 17 pounds down from the beginning.
We're moving into Phase II of the South Beach diet. Carbs are slowly being reintroduced. We'll continue in the phase until we reach our goals. For me, it's (at a minimum) another 10 pounds. If it comes off fast, then we'll see if we can't get below 180, which would put me around my high school weight just in time for my reunion.
They say that Labor Day is best spent doing no labor of any kind. That is not the way Kris & I see Labor Day.
Friday: Left work a bit early (can you blame me?) to get to Milwaukee. Met up with Jeff & Nikki at the Water Street Brewery for dinner. (Note: The restauarant offered all of their sandwhiches as "Atkin's Friendly" meaning they keep the bun, and replace the fries with salad. Scored big points for us.) After dinner, saw Butterfly Boucher & Sarah McLachlan sing from about 15 rows from the stage, the closest I've ever been in a show. Had one more drink before returning home Friday night/early Saturday morning.
Saturday: Saw the Badgers crush the Knights of Central Florida at the newly renovated Camp Randall Stadium. Then, I hung with Nelson & Katy trading stories and getting some training advice. Then, we celebrated Beth's birthday with some fine dining at the Tutto Pasta Cucina Italiana.
Sunday: I spent the day drafting fantasy football players, while Kris enjoyed Kristin's new house and lake access.
Labor Day: Cleaned the apartment in the morning, and then set out on a 26 mile ride, that turned out to be a 30 mile ride, because of a bad map, and dumb navigator (read: me). Made it home in time to enjoy dinner with Kris' parents at Chili's. Again, a restaurant catering to the carb-watching crowd with a specialized menu.
Whew! I think that's enough for one weekend.
The morning started thick. Our remote thermometer said that it was 70° at 5:45 AM. I could tell it was humid. The lake was glass, hidden in the low fog. The sky was slowly turning a cotton candy pink as the sun struggled to reach the horizon. The pedals were moving effortlessly under my feet, and I was on my way. "Jesus Christ!," the runner exclaimed as he nearly jumped into my path. (It was his fault.) I was holding a nice pace and felt quite good all the way around the lake, until I passed a fellow cyclist. I politely gave him a heads up that I was passing, and then he promptly sprinted by, zooming through an intersection, darting around the queued cars. I politely crossed in the appropriate cross walks, and caught up to him one more time. After I passed him again, he kept my pace and started drafting. At the next crossing, I again slowed and used the appropriate crossing. He sped forward, crossed against traffic, and started along the path again ahead of me. Bastard. For the third pass, I flew by and he had no hope to catch up. I never looked back, but I don't think he was there.
It was after this duel that I decided to name my bike. Kris & I had tossed around bee-related names, "Yellow Jacket," "The Bumble Bee," etc. But it was right then that I decided to go with "Sting."
(197.2 on the scale)
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