Jim here for Team Bad Ass.
Well, the 2010 race season is officially underway. Our first race this year was the Town Crier 10K held in Saugatuck, Michigan.
Saugatuck is about a half-hour drive from Grand Rapids and we still needed to pick up our race-numbers and timing chips, so we decided the night before to leave at 7:30am to be ready to go for the 9am starting gun (which actually turned out to be a bell – get it “Town Crier”?).
The morning began rather crudely. Matt had slept on my couch rather than drive to and from his place after he got out of work. My alarm clock went off at 7:15am and when I went to wake up Matt, he initially refused to get up. I had to steal his teddy bear and threaten to throw it out the window just to get him to move. Matt will do anything for his Mr. Fuzzy. That and peanut butter. He loves peanut butter.
We packed up all our shit and loaded the car. We got into Saugatuck a bit after 8am and we walked around for a bit after parking the car. The town is a “friendly” beach community on Lake Michigan. Principally a summer destination, the middle of town is comprised primarily of chochke vendors, art galleries, and shitty knick-knack stores.
Matt and I each downed an energy gel, Gold-Bonded up (individually, mind you. Just because we were in Saugatuck doesn't mean we went native), taped our nipples (also individually) and made our way to the starting line. The temperature was still chilly, maybe 40-degrees, but the sun was out and it was not too windy.
We took a short warm up jog while I finagled with my heart rate monitor. For some reason the chest strap had shit the bed and was not reading a pulse. Both Matt and myself picked out the person we wanted to beat, then the starting bell sounded and we were off.
Typical of similar bullshit race starts, slow people who shouldn't be in the front of the pack slow everyone down by being an obstacle. Luckily there weren't too many participants for this to be that big of a deal, and within a minute or two we were free of most other runners. And luckily, right about this time my heart rate monitor got its head out of its ass and started working.
We started out with an excellent pace and maintained it very well throughout the race. The race snaked through the downtown streets, past the aforementioned chochke hawkers, before routing us onto a series of residential streets. The route was superbly managed; at every turn there were volunteers pointing the way. There were a few hills, but nothing truly worthy of bitching.
To my surprise, I was able to keep up with Matt. Between you and me (and the rest of the internet) Matt is the better runner, despite his chicken legs, size 9 shoes, and small heart.
We passed a handful of other runners, but to my knowledge we were only passed by a single group of four. And we held those fuckers off for a long while, even up a fairly significant hill. Someone took a picture of us at the top of that hill, and I'd love to have a copy because it would show TBA dominating the field...at least on that particular hill.
At about the 5 mile marker, Matt fell back a bit. I didn't notice it at first because we were on a great, long stretch of a slight, but certainly noticeable, downhill grade. Throughout the race, I was either a few steps ahead of him or he was a few steps ahead of me, but I could generally see where he was by looking for his shadow on the ground. The buddy system is a fine motivator. It definitely kept me going.
But now, without the other co-captain at my side, I had to find some other form of motivation. I decided to catch whoever was in front of me. My heart rate was really high, over 190bpm for much of the last mile. With about a quarter mile to go, I caught the guy. And with about 200 yards to go, I caught the guy in front of him.
From about a hundred feet out, I caught a glimpse of the race clock and switched to a pose method and sprinted to the finish. Eventually clocking a 45:49. Beating my last 10K time by 5:45, and good enough for fourth-place in the age group and 32/143 overall.
I stood there catching my breath for a bit until I spotted Matt in his white TBA shirt turning the corner heading toward the finish line. Matt eventually clocked a 46:54, beating his last 10K time by 3:25. Earning him fifth-place in the age group and 35/143 overall.
We dicked around for a bit (once again, not in the traditional Saugatuck sense), watched the 5K start, and then ate some breakfast at perhaps the only breakfast joint I've ever been to that had a full liquor bar.
The weather was probably 15-20 degrees warmer now, so before heading back to the GRR we drove to the beach where I geared down and ran into Lake Michigan, currently at a balmy forty degrees. It was really stupid, and it took about 10 minutes to get the feeling back in my toes.
TBA's performance in this race was fantastic. Despite a serious lack of sleep, we both bested our previous 10K times. Not bad for our first time out this year.
I'd post pictures but Matt refuses to give them to me and I'm afraid of what I might find if I borrow his camera to upload the pictures. Maybe soon.
Until then, Jim out!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Race Report: Fifth Third Riverbank 25K (with pictures!)
With over 21,000 runners, the Riverbank Run is probably the biggest single-day event held in Grand Rapids and it's high in the running for largest event in West Michigan. Team Bad Ass was well represented in the race: Matt and myself running the 25K, Matt's dad Jim running the 5K option, and TBA supporter Kayla (for those who read the 10 Miler report) running the 10K.
For the week leading up to the race, the weather forecasts kept getting shittier: wind, rain, cold...locusts. At race-time, the temperature was in the upper 30s with some serious wind. The rain held off, despite a few errant drops here and there. But like I said, shitty.Matt at his dad showed up at some ungodly hour, as usual I did not get enough sleep. The 5K ran first so the two of them headed down to the start. I used the time to wake my ass up. After seeing his dad off, Matt headed back the few blocks to my place and we got ready. Gold bond and nipple tape were again the order of the day.
We walked down the street to the race start and got our first taste of the cold weather and wind. Downtown was a zoo. Packed with spectators lining the streets and runners waiting to start.
Because this was the longest race we have ever run and because we had the marathon a week later, we made the conscious decision to hold back a bit and run this one slower. We lined up with the 9:30/mile pace group, but found ourselves in front of the group most of the time.
The starting gun sounded and we were off. Because there were so many people, there was about a 3 minute lag time between the gun sounding and us actually crossing the starting line. After a couple of miles, Matt and I both started experiencing some ankle pain. It was odd, because it happened at the same time, and neither of us had felt it before.
Running slower than your average pace (especially in a race) was difficult. Neither one of us likes to be passed by people, certainly not by fat asses that we would normally be smoking past. I actually live by the Bernard Hinault quote, “As long as I breathe...I attack.” (First cycling reference). So doing so took patience, and I do not have patience.
Every half mile or so Matt would catch me breaking away (Second cycling reference) or I would catch him pulling away, and we'd remind each other of the upcoming marathon and we'd back it down.
The route took us down along the Grand River and out to Grandville. At about the half-way point, or maybe shortly before it, the route turned onto Butterworth Street and headed back to the city over some light, rolling hills. Every couple miles there would be a large group of cowbell-shaking spectators, cheering crowds, and even a smattering of high school cheerleaders. We ran past Millennium Park (Jesus, remember that word?), then down past the John Ball Zoo, before making our final approach back into downtown. Right about the time we made the turn out of John Ball Park Matt felt a muscle cramp up in his inner thigh. We backed our speed down a bit and kind of coasted for awhile. I assume he worked out the cramp because he stopped bitching about it after awhile.
With about a mile and half left to go, the Rocky theme song came on over my headphones and I decided that I was not going to finish this race with anything left in the tank. I made the decision to unleash the hounds. Right after the last water/Gatorade station, I kicked into overdrive and tried to cover as much ground as possible before I collapsed.
The route wound through some downtown streets where the crowds were sometimes 3-4 people deep. “Rainbow in the Dark” by DIO came on the Ipod, and I tried to throw everything I had at beating people to the line. I probably passed about 100 people in the last mile of this race, including one about 15 yards in front of the finish running the last stretch with his 6-year-old daughter. God damn I love doing that..
Matt came across the finish at 2:21:53, averaging 9:09/mile and finishing 307/411 in the age group and 2978/5464 overall.
All told, I liked this race. I'm sure we could have run it faster, but under the circumstances I think holding back was the right decision. The overall goal is distance, not speed. And we ought to act accordingly. Next year we can run it for real.Matt and I were both out of commission after this race. It took my calves a good long time to recover and, now almost a week later, I can still feel some inflammation in my knees. No pain, no gain.
Team Bad Ass is going on the road this weekend for an away game, so check back for the Rockford Marathon race report sometime next week.
Jim out!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Race Cancellation and Wristbands
TBA is striking the Steelcase Duathlon off our schedule on account of the weather. Well, actually it's on account of the weather and Matt's bitchiness. But then again he's always bitchy so who knows.
In other news, we have refilled our supply of wristbands. The wristbands are embossed "Team Bad Ass" and "Hurry the fuck up!!!"
They cost $2, although we'd be happy to barter.
In other news, we have refilled our supply of wristbands. The wristbands are embossed "Team Bad Ass" and "Hurry the fuck up!!!"
They cost $2, although we'd be happy to barter.
Race Report: Strider's Ten Miler
Jim here. Matt has likely not even begun to write the Saugatuck 10K race report, so maybe this one will hold you people over. And if he doesn't get it done in a week, I'll post my version. So basically, you'll be reading my report in a week.
Anyway, the Strider's Saturday Classic is a ten-mile race held in Grandville, MI by a local shoe store. Actually the race takes place in neighboring Walker, but who really gives a shit. Neither Matt nor myself have run a ten-miler before – we did a half-marathon at the end of last year's race season, but that was mostly run at a slow jog.
We picked the event because it was a week after the 10K, but three weeks before the 25K Riverbank Run, and four weeks before the Rockford Marathon. So the basic idea was to incorporate progressively longer races into the schedule as a means of making sure we were hitting our distance goals. One of the problems we ran into last year was we half-assed our training after finishing the triathlon and woke up one morning to realize that we had a race the next day. Not going to happen this year.
Like so many of these things, the organizers clearly did not subscribe to our lifestyle choices. Neither Matt nor I would ever plan a race that starts at fucking 8am. What kind of stupid shit is that? Who do they expect to show up, eighty-year old bluehairs and NORAD employees? Certainly not drunks or people with lives.
Anyway, to lessen the degree to which morning activity universally sucks, I drove down to the shoe store the day before to pick up our race packets. I figured it might save us fifteen bloodshot minutes in the morning. For the first time in Team Bad Ass race history – and what a storied volume it is – I was assigned a lower race number than Matt. Usually, he gets one number lower than me, or they do it alphabetically, and I still get fucked. But not today, for today I am the cock of the walk!
We're actually getting pretty good at going to sleep at 3:30am and waking up at 7am – I only had to slap Matt in the face twice to get him up. We ate some oatmeal,and hopped in the car. On the way down there Matt ate a banana in the car and upon finishing it, he nonchalantly threw the peel out the window and onto the highway. And after I had just barely finished eating my banana, Matt snatched the peel from my hand and it too went out the window. I think he just enjoys littering; maybe I should start using the window locks.
We got there about 7:30am and it was probably between 35 and 40 degrees outside. We both decided to stick with shorts, albeit with long-sleeve technical t-shirts instead of the short-sleeve jobs. We did our usual Gold Bond and nipple-tape routine and walked over to the start line. There was no individual, chip-timing at this race, just the clock time. I was disappointed at first but it ended up not being an issue because there weren't too many people ahead of us; it probably only cost us maybe 5 seconds or so.
The course was a relatively simple, out-and-back affair with water/Gatorade stations every two miles. Whoever picked the course must have had a Mont Ventoux fetish, because there were some decent hills. Our pace was quicker than I expected it to be, sub-8's the whole race. We need to start focusing on keeping the pace down, and on keeping it constant. Hopefully the upcoming 25K with get us tuned up and thinking about the marathon.
Matt and I stayed relatively close together for most of the race. At about the four-mile mark, I opened up a gap between us while heading down a hill. I thought he was right behind me for the next few miles, but I had actually widened the gap. Apparently I am really fucking fast.
At about mile 6, I crossed paths with Kayla, a TBA supporter and loyal reader of the TBA training blog. I didn't see her wearing the wristband though.
The hills were brutal. Not too long or too steep, but too frequent. Even before the midway point, my calves were aching from the hills.
With about a mile to go I looked at my heart-rate monitor and saw that I was already cooking pretty good, 180bpm, and I wasn't sure if I could kick into overdrive and actually make it to the finish line. But I said, “Fuck it.” and gassed by a couple people in front of me. I beat out this one guy right before entering the chute at the finish line. It was a good thing too, because if that race was ten yards longer, I would have had to walk to the finish.
I ended up clocking 1:17:36, came out to about 7:45/mile. Good enough for 103rd place out of a field of 271 and 14th in my age group out of 23. Not the best, but considering there wasn't a bicycle involved, not too shabby.
I stood there catching my breath waiting for Matt to finish. He crossed the finish line with a look of sheer fatigue on his face, clocking 1:18:58 equating to a 7:54/mile pace. Earning him 116th place overall and 17th in our age group.
I thought for sure that we were going to get smoked in this race, but we managed to maintain our usual, middle-of-the-pack performance. Worth noting is that the winner of the race finished in 54:01. That means that he was running a 5:24/mile pace. I cannot imagine running one mile in 5:24, and here's this asshole running ten in a row.
While this wasn't the longest race we've run (the half-marathon was three miles farther), due to the hills it was probably the hardest. Not to mention the fact that we had a killer pace.
All in all a good day for Team Bad Ass.
Jim out!
Anyway, the Strider's Saturday Classic is a ten-mile race held in Grandville, MI by a local shoe store. Actually the race takes place in neighboring Walker, but who really gives a shit. Neither Matt nor myself have run a ten-miler before – we did a half-marathon at the end of last year's race season, but that was mostly run at a slow jog.
We picked the event because it was a week after the 10K, but three weeks before the 25K Riverbank Run, and four weeks before the Rockford Marathon. So the basic idea was to incorporate progressively longer races into the schedule as a means of making sure we were hitting our distance goals. One of the problems we ran into last year was we half-assed our training after finishing the triathlon and woke up one morning to realize that we had a race the next day. Not going to happen this year.
Like so many of these things, the organizers clearly did not subscribe to our lifestyle choices. Neither Matt nor I would ever plan a race that starts at fucking 8am. What kind of stupid shit is that? Who do they expect to show up, eighty-year old bluehairs and NORAD employees? Certainly not drunks or people with lives.
Anyway, to lessen the degree to which morning activity universally sucks, I drove down to the shoe store the day before to pick up our race packets. I figured it might save us fifteen bloodshot minutes in the morning. For the first time in Team Bad Ass race history – and what a storied volume it is – I was assigned a lower race number than Matt. Usually, he gets one number lower than me, or they do it alphabetically, and I still get fucked. But not today, for today I am the cock of the walk!
We're actually getting pretty good at going to sleep at 3:30am and waking up at 7am – I only had to slap Matt in the face twice to get him up. We ate some oatmeal,and hopped in the car. On the way down there Matt ate a banana in the car and upon finishing it, he nonchalantly threw the peel out the window and onto the highway. And after I had just barely finished eating my banana, Matt snatched the peel from my hand and it too went out the window. I think he just enjoys littering; maybe I should start using the window locks.
We got there about 7:30am and it was probably between 35 and 40 degrees outside. We both decided to stick with shorts, albeit with long-sleeve technical t-shirts instead of the short-sleeve jobs. We did our usual Gold Bond and nipple-tape routine and walked over to the start line. There was no individual, chip-timing at this race, just the clock time. I was disappointed at first but it ended up not being an issue because there weren't too many people ahead of us; it probably only cost us maybe 5 seconds or so.
The course was a relatively simple, out-and-back affair with water/Gatorade stations every two miles. Whoever picked the course must have had a Mont Ventoux fetish, because there were some decent hills. Our pace was quicker than I expected it to be, sub-8's the whole race. We need to start focusing on keeping the pace down, and on keeping it constant. Hopefully the upcoming 25K with get us tuned up and thinking about the marathon.
Matt and I stayed relatively close together for most of the race. At about the four-mile mark, I opened up a gap between us while heading down a hill. I thought he was right behind me for the next few miles, but I had actually widened the gap. Apparently I am really fucking fast.
At about mile 6, I crossed paths with Kayla, a TBA supporter and loyal reader of the TBA training blog. I didn't see her wearing the wristband though.
The hills were brutal. Not too long or too steep, but too frequent. Even before the midway point, my calves were aching from the hills.
With about a mile to go I looked at my heart-rate monitor and saw that I was already cooking pretty good, 180bpm, and I wasn't sure if I could kick into overdrive and actually make it to the finish line. But I said, “Fuck it.” and gassed by a couple people in front of me. I beat out this one guy right before entering the chute at the finish line. It was a good thing too, because if that race was ten yards longer, I would have had to walk to the finish.
I ended up clocking 1:17:36, came out to about 7:45/mile. Good enough for 103rd place out of a field of 271 and 14th in my age group out of 23. Not the best, but considering there wasn't a bicycle involved, not too shabby.
I stood there catching my breath waiting for Matt to finish. He crossed the finish line with a look of sheer fatigue on his face, clocking 1:18:58 equating to a 7:54/mile pace. Earning him 116th place overall and 17th in our age group.
I thought for sure that we were going to get smoked in this race, but we managed to maintain our usual, middle-of-the-pack performance. Worth noting is that the winner of the race finished in 54:01. That means that he was running a 5:24/mile pace. I cannot imagine running one mile in 5:24, and here's this asshole running ten in a row.
While this wasn't the longest race we've run (the half-marathon was three miles farther), due to the hills it was probably the hardest. Not to mention the fact that we had a killer pace.
All in all a good day for Team Bad Ass.
Jim out!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Update. Oh and TBA needs your help again, twice.
Jim here for TBA.
So this was the last week of our P90X class. We signed up for another session, but we will only be doing one day a week – the idea being that we will be transitioning into more of a cardio-based program in preparation for our early, run-heavy race season.
As of today, we are 69 days away from our first marathon and we are nowhere close to being in any kind of shape to run it. If it were held tomorrow, I'm confident we could finish it, but certainly not with the sub-4-hour time that we are striving for.
Training has been going well. We've had a series of incredible strength -training days with a few cardio days mixed in. It is going to be tricky to get out of the lifting habit and into the running/riding habit. Hopefully the warmer weather will help, but I still foresee it being more difficult than trying to shove a wet noodle up a tiger's ass.
Moving along...
The demand for TBA wristbands was astounding and our supply was almost instantly overwhelmed. But worry not, more are being ordered so you can continue to send me messages about how you need/want/deserve/demand one. But you should be aware that the next version of the bracelets will not be as cool as the originals. And Matt is to blame.
Matt objected to the profanity contained in the “Hurry the fuck up” message debossed on the reverse side of the band. I personally do not see what the problem was, but so as not to offend his delicate sensibilities, I shall acquiesce to his faggot-ass grievance and change the fucking wristband text. See, there is a reason why I am so well known for my selfless attitude and eagerness to please everybody. Or maybe I caved so easily because I already have one of the original bracelets and don't give a damn what the new ones say. Direct all of your negative comments to him, as he is actually the one to blame. I mean, shit, the word “ass” is in the team name.
So anyway, because one fucking pillow-biter has a problem, I am left with the unenviable task of choosing an alternative message. No matter what I pick people are going to bitch - "I want the one that says 'fuck' ", "This new slogan is stupid", "Matt really does blow dogs for quarters"...well you see how it's going to go. That's probably the reason he bitched in the first place, so that all our your subsequent bitching would give me a fucking aneurysm.
I'm tempted to use one of the failed official motto entries from a couple months ago, but it needs to be relatively short in order to fit on the wristband. So the options are “Trample the weak” or “Nut up or shut up”. Take your pick. And please just vote for one this time. If I check my email and read "I like them both" again....voting for all options does not help the guy making the fucking decision. I should just have them all made up with “Matt is a fag” printed on the back, just for the inconvenience. (That may be going a bit too far; the “Matt is a fag” t-shirts are probably enough.)
I'm likely going to regret this, but I guess there is always the slim possibility that one of our loyal fans will come up with the winning message. I'm offering a free TBA baseball cap to whoever comes up with something better. But if your idea is shitty don't be surprised if I show up at your house and take something.
Moving right along...
TBA is currently competing in a fitness challenge sponsored by the Grand Rapids area YMCAs. It's a March Madness-style bracket challenge that pits us against other teams. To advance each team must complete a series of specified exercise programs or fitness goals (run 6 miles, complete 8 strength training exercises, ride a bike for 30 minutes, etc). In addition to the exercise program, each team must earn points by completing feel-good tasks like volunteering, reading, helping neighbors, and raising money for the YMCA Strong Kids charity. So far we have raised 80 dollars and have made it into the third round!
You can help too. Donations are tax deductible and donors will receive TBA merchandise!
If you don't help, Matt says he is going to kill a puppy. I think he means business too. Seriously, the last time I saw that look in his eye...well let's just say that when I regained consciousness, I was bare-assed naked in a truck-stop shower stall, scrubbing myself raw with a Brillo-pad and a gallon of laundry detergent. I still haven't been able to get clean. Another reason why Night Train fortified-wine ought to be illegal.
Email us at goteambadass@yahoo.com for more information or with your general, inane uselessness.
So this was the last week of our P90X class. We signed up for another session, but we will only be doing one day a week – the idea being that we will be transitioning into more of a cardio-based program in preparation for our early, run-heavy race season.
As of today, we are 69 days away from our first marathon and we are nowhere close to being in any kind of shape to run it. If it were held tomorrow, I'm confident we could finish it, but certainly not with the sub-4-hour time that we are striving for.
Training has been going well. We've had a series of incredible strength -training days with a few cardio days mixed in. It is going to be tricky to get out of the lifting habit and into the running/riding habit. Hopefully the warmer weather will help, but I still foresee it being more difficult than trying to shove a wet noodle up a tiger's ass.
Moving along...
The demand for TBA wristbands was astounding and our supply was almost instantly overwhelmed. But worry not, more are being ordered so you can continue to send me messages about how you need/want/deserve/demand one. But you should be aware that the next version of the bracelets will not be as cool as the originals. And Matt is to blame.
Matt objected to the profanity contained in the “Hurry the fuck up” message debossed on the reverse side of the band. I personally do not see what the problem was, but so as not to offend his delicate sensibilities, I shall acquiesce to his faggot-ass grievance and change the fucking wristband text. See, there is a reason why I am so well known for my selfless attitude and eagerness to please everybody. Or maybe I caved so easily because I already have one of the original bracelets and don't give a damn what the new ones say. Direct all of your negative comments to him, as he is actually the one to blame. I mean, shit, the word “ass” is in the team name.
So anyway, because one fucking pillow-biter has a problem, I am left with the unenviable task of choosing an alternative message. No matter what I pick people are going to bitch - "I want the one that says 'fuck' ", "This new slogan is stupid", "Matt really does blow dogs for quarters"...well you see how it's going to go. That's probably the reason he bitched in the first place, so that all our your subsequent bitching would give me a fucking aneurysm.
I'm tempted to use one of the failed official motto entries from a couple months ago, but it needs to be relatively short in order to fit on the wristband. So the options are “Trample the weak” or “Nut up or shut up”. Take your pick. And please just vote for one this time. If I check my email and read "I like them both" again....voting for all options does not help the guy making the fucking decision. I should just have them all made up with “Matt is a fag” printed on the back, just for the inconvenience. (That may be going a bit too far; the “Matt is a fag” t-shirts are probably enough.)
I'm likely going to regret this, but I guess there is always the slim possibility that one of our loyal fans will come up with the winning message. I'm offering a free TBA baseball cap to whoever comes up with something better. But if your idea is shitty don't be surprised if I show up at your house and take something.
Moving right along...
TBA is currently competing in a fitness challenge sponsored by the Grand Rapids area YMCAs. It's a March Madness-style bracket challenge that pits us against other teams. To advance each team must complete a series of specified exercise programs or fitness goals (run 6 miles, complete 8 strength training exercises, ride a bike for 30 minutes, etc). In addition to the exercise program, each team must earn points by completing feel-good tasks like volunteering, reading, helping neighbors, and raising money for the YMCA Strong Kids charity. So far we have raised 80 dollars and have made it into the third round!
You can help too. Donations are tax deductible and donors will receive TBA merchandise!
If you don't help, Matt says he is going to kill a puppy. I think he means business too. Seriously, the last time I saw that look in his eye...well let's just say that when I regained consciousness, I was bare-assed naked in a truck-stop shower stall, scrubbing myself raw with a Brillo-pad and a gallon of laundry detergent. I still haven't been able to get clean. Another reason why Night Train fortified-wine ought to be illegal.
Email us at goteambadass@yahoo.com for more information or with your general, inane uselessness.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
New Bad Ass logo and other fun stuff
Jim here for TBA. I really don't know why I keep writing that, Matt is clearly not writing any of these blog entries. When you see an entry written in crayon, you'll know. He said he'd write some, so I can only guess as to what's holding him up. Even money says it's a combination of horrible dyslexia, a fondness for unnecessary punctuation, and a general fear of letters that likely stems from a childhood hatred of Sesame Street.
What a monster. And not of the Cookie variety. Damn it, I am hilarious.
Training is going well. Very well actually. We've been getting our shit together lately, with the exception of a few missed training sessions due to alcohol. We hit the pool three times last week. During one such session, I swam a whole 700 yards. Matt got in 900. But I looked a lot faster with my obnoxious, yellow goggles.
A few weeks ago we decided to reboot our lifting program to focus on form. It was remarkably difficult to lift the same weight without cheating like we had been doing before. We need to work a bit harder on getting our runs in, but it's really tough to run for an hour when we are completely beat to shit from our P90X class. Regardless, the 25K Riverbank Run and the Rockford Marathon are rapidly approaching.
On to other matters.
I decided on “Trample the weak. Hurdle the dead.” for the team motto. Thanks for all your help, but in the end it was a rather arbitrary decision. Matt's choice was, “Let me win but if I can not win let me be brave in the attempt.”. But I vetoed it because I think the Special Olympics would have sued. I don't care how many “Participant” medals he has, those people are not too fond of copyright infringement.
I spent the better part of the evening designing the new TBA logo. Some of you assholes might point out that there was never an original logo, but fuck the semantics, it's a cool logo. I think it would make a pretty sick tattoo. Team Bad Ass merchandise featuring the new logo is in the works. I'm thinking hats, t-shirts, beer-koozies, and bumper stickers. Any other ideas?
For those that didn't already know, TBA has official wristbands. Unlike those faggot-ass yellow cancer bracelets, our wristbands are black and feature the highly motivational, dare I say inspirational, secondary motto: “HURRY THE FUCK UP”.
Supply is incredibly limited, so only a select few got a HTFU wristband. Although one charlatan managed to sneak one out of Matt and then he “lost” another one. So if you really want one, you could probably give him a sob story, or just follow him around and hope he drops one. If you haven't been paying attention, Matt is about as sharp as a marble.
Anyway, that's all for now.
Jim, Out!
What a monster. And not of the Cookie variety. Damn it, I am hilarious.
Training is going well. Very well actually. We've been getting our shit together lately, with the exception of a few missed training sessions due to alcohol. We hit the pool three times last week. During one such session, I swam a whole 700 yards. Matt got in 900. But I looked a lot faster with my obnoxious, yellow goggles.
A few weeks ago we decided to reboot our lifting program to focus on form. It was remarkably difficult to lift the same weight without cheating like we had been doing before. We need to work a bit harder on getting our runs in, but it's really tough to run for an hour when we are completely beat to shit from our P90X class. Regardless, the 25K Riverbank Run and the Rockford Marathon are rapidly approaching.
On to other matters.
I decided on “Trample the weak. Hurdle the dead.” for the team motto. Thanks for all your help, but in the end it was a rather arbitrary decision. Matt's choice was, “Let me win but if I can not win let me be brave in the attempt.”. But I vetoed it because I think the Special Olympics would have sued. I don't care how many “Participant” medals he has, those people are not too fond of copyright infringement.
I spent the better part of the evening designing the new TBA logo. Some of you assholes might point out that there was never an original logo, but fuck the semantics, it's a cool logo. I think it would make a pretty sick tattoo. Team Bad Ass merchandise featuring the new logo is in the works. I'm thinking hats, t-shirts, beer-koozies, and bumper stickers. Any other ideas?
For those that didn't already know, TBA has official wristbands. Unlike those faggot-ass yellow cancer bracelets, our wristbands are black and feature the highly motivational, dare I say inspirational, secondary motto: “HURRY THE FUCK UP”.
Supply is incredibly limited, so only a select few got a HTFU wristband. Although one charlatan managed to sneak one out of Matt and then he “lost” another one. So if you really want one, you could probably give him a sob story, or just follow him around and hope he drops one. If you haven't been paying attention, Matt is about as sharp as a marble.
Anyway, that's all for now.
Jim, Out!
Friday, January 29, 2010
All sorts of updates…
TBA is still training harder than a choir boy in a porn shop. I cannot be sure if the P90X class is helping with our triathlon training, but it certainly has us working hard and sweating more than a whore in church. Last week, we did “plyometrics” which bears considerable resemblance to the seventh circle of hell from Dante’s Inferno.
The plyometric routine we did was basically a series of squats and jumping exercises. It really got the heart-rate going (I know this because I got to use my fancy heart monitor). Matt forgot his HR monitor in his locker, and then he forgot his locker combination. Sometimes I think that Matt couldn’t even count to twenty-one if he was naked.
By the end of the class, I could have sworn they had turned up the heat in the gym. Seriously, it was hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock. The class was rougher than I expected; the short recovery time mixed with the increased intensity made it very similar to interval training.
Most other days of the week, we can be found working out (which also includes ogling women and making crude, off-color jokes) either in Rockford or downtown Grand Rapids. “Smart” women are more than welcome to stop by.
We like to alternate between cardio and weight-training. Cardio days are fairly simple – we either run on the track or ride a stationary bike. Lately we’ve been doing “brick” workouts (following up a bike ride with a run). Following an intense bike ride, your legs are basically jelly for the first few hundred yards. The point of the “bricks” is to improve the transition from bike to run.
When we don’t feel like doing shit, like the day after a hardcore weight-training day, we’ll slack off and play racquetball. I have yet to win because I am not at all coordinated, but I am getting better.
We have been trying to get into the pool more often, but it hasn’t been working out. Whenever we try to go to the pool after running or biking, there is always a bullshit class or some school swim team using the lap pool.
Weight training has been the focus of our training thus far, although with our race season rapidly approaching, we’ll be switching to a more cardio-focused routine. Our weight training days are split between chest, legs, and arms/shoulders. We haven’t really done much involving the back muscles until recently.
Our training has not been without its hiccups. Last week, Matt nearly killed me by pulling all of the weights off of one side of the squat barbell when I had only just begun taking the weights off of the other side. Matt’s side of the barbell shot up and the weights on my side fell to the ground with a crash. Without the weights, my side of the barbell leveled off, but in doing so cracked me in the face above the left eye. Sometimes I think that Matt couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel.
No big deal, I’ve had concussions before and I’m sure I’ll have them again. But I think we’ll stick with the cabled squat bar from now on.
Team Bad Ass is all signed up for the Fifth Third Riverbank run. Matt and I will represent TBA in the 25K and Matt’s sister Sarah will run in the 5K.
That’s all for now. Thanks for all of the emails. Not one stupid comment this time. Way to go!
The plyometric routine we did was basically a series of squats and jumping exercises. It really got the heart-rate going (I know this because I got to use my fancy heart monitor). Matt forgot his HR monitor in his locker, and then he forgot his locker combination. Sometimes I think that Matt couldn’t even count to twenty-one if he was naked.
By the end of the class, I could have sworn they had turned up the heat in the gym. Seriously, it was hotter than two rats fucking in a wool sock. The class was rougher than I expected; the short recovery time mixed with the increased intensity made it very similar to interval training.
Most other days of the week, we can be found working out (which also includes ogling women and making crude, off-color jokes) either in Rockford or downtown Grand Rapids. “Smart” women are more than welcome to stop by.
We like to alternate between cardio and weight-training. Cardio days are fairly simple – we either run on the track or ride a stationary bike. Lately we’ve been doing “brick” workouts (following up a bike ride with a run). Following an intense bike ride, your legs are basically jelly for the first few hundred yards. The point of the “bricks” is to improve the transition from bike to run.
When we don’t feel like doing shit, like the day after a hardcore weight-training day, we’ll slack off and play racquetball. I have yet to win because I am not at all coordinated, but I am getting better.
We have been trying to get into the pool more often, but it hasn’t been working out. Whenever we try to go to the pool after running or biking, there is always a bullshit class or some school swim team using the lap pool.
Weight training has been the focus of our training thus far, although with our race season rapidly approaching, we’ll be switching to a more cardio-focused routine. Our weight training days are split between chest, legs, and arms/shoulders. We haven’t really done much involving the back muscles until recently.
Our training has not been without its hiccups. Last week, Matt nearly killed me by pulling all of the weights off of one side of the squat barbell when I had only just begun taking the weights off of the other side. Matt’s side of the barbell shot up and the weights on my side fell to the ground with a crash. Without the weights, my side of the barbell leveled off, but in doing so cracked me in the face above the left eye. Sometimes I think that Matt couldn’t pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel.
No big deal, I’ve had concussions before and I’m sure I’ll have them again. But I think we’ll stick with the cabled squat bar from now on.
Team Bad Ass is all signed up for the Fifth Third Riverbank run. Matt and I will represent TBA in the 25K and Matt’s sister Sarah will run in the 5K.
That’s all for now. Thanks for all of the emails. Not one stupid comment this time. Way to go!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Update
Jim here. Nothing all that new going on. But maybe I can keep Mary at bay by posting some of the nothingness that I take shit for not posting.
Well, that may be short-selling it. Matt and I started taking a P90X class at the gym twice a week. It is helping us to meet housewives and sweat liquor out of our pores. Other than the class, we are still keeping our usual routine at the gym, although we really need to start hitting the pool more often (primarily so that I can tell Adam to go fuck himself).
I recently got an Ipod for the sole purpose of setting it up with the Nike+ system. Kind of like an speedometer/odometer on your car, it tells you how fast and how far you have run. You install this sensor on your shoe and then like magic (or like physics or something) you have a voice in your ear telling you your pace and your milage. I don't know how it works, it's not a pedometer and I think that gnomes might have been involved in it's creation. Anyone that can explain it to my satisfaction gets a Team Bad Ass prize.
There are a ton of options that I have yet to play around with, but it lets you program a Power Song that will play if you drop below your pace. Mine is currently set to "Through the Fire and the Flames" by DragonForce. Tried it out today with a 45 minute run at the gym, it required virtually no setup and it seems to be very accurate.
Maybe I can retire the old mp3 player. Hey, Matt, you're getting a present! Seriously, the guy still has a Sony Walkman that plays cassette tapes. He runs around with giant earphones listening to a worn out J. Geils Band tape. Makes us look bad.
On another note, other people need to stay the fuck out of the gym. Lately, the gym has been busier than fire-eater with a paper asshole. Every jerkoff with a New Year's resolution has now become an impediment to me fulfilling my goals.
Oh, you want to ride the exercise bike? Too bad, some fatass in poorly-fitting stretchpants is already sitting on it, barely pedaling and reading Redbook.
You want to log some laps on the track? You had best be prepared to swerve in between the Holsteins and Heifers that don't understand that their near-Volkswagon size creates an obstacle akin to a rhinosaurus on the expressway.
And who the fuck takes the elevator and then gets on the step-machine?
I am strongly considering investing in an Old Country Buffet franchise and setting up shop in the parking lot just to alleviate the crowd in the gym. A more cost-effective solution might be a series of signs that read "Free Ham for Fatties" and have an arrow that points away from the gym entrance. Anyway, food for thought (get it?).
Oh, TBA merchandise is in the works. There is talk of a calendar, though I may just repackage an English Sheepdog calendar and tell people it's Matt. The similarities are frightening. Stay tuned for details.
Jim out!
Well, that may be short-selling it. Matt and I started taking a P90X class at the gym twice a week. It is helping us to meet housewives and sweat liquor out of our pores. Other than the class, we are still keeping our usual routine at the gym, although we really need to start hitting the pool more often (primarily so that I can tell Adam to go fuck himself).
I recently got an Ipod for the sole purpose of setting it up with the Nike+ system. Kind of like an speedometer/odometer on your car, it tells you how fast and how far you have run. You install this sensor on your shoe and then like magic (or like physics or something) you have a voice in your ear telling you your pace and your milage. I don't know how it works, it's not a pedometer and I think that gnomes might have been involved in it's creation. Anyone that can explain it to my satisfaction gets a Team Bad Ass prize.
There are a ton of options that I have yet to play around with, but it lets you program a Power Song that will play if you drop below your pace. Mine is currently set to "Through the Fire and the Flames" by DragonForce. Tried it out today with a 45 minute run at the gym, it required virtually no setup and it seems to be very accurate.
Maybe I can retire the old mp3 player. Hey, Matt, you're getting a present! Seriously, the guy still has a Sony Walkman that plays cassette tapes. He runs around with giant earphones listening to a worn out J. Geils Band tape. Makes us look bad.
On another note, other people need to stay the fuck out of the gym. Lately, the gym has been busier than fire-eater with a paper asshole. Every jerkoff with a New Year's resolution has now become an impediment to me fulfilling my goals.
Oh, you want to ride the exercise bike? Too bad, some fatass in poorly-fitting stretchpants is already sitting on it, barely pedaling and reading Redbook.
You want to log some laps on the track? You had best be prepared to swerve in between the Holsteins and Heifers that don't understand that their near-Volkswagon size creates an obstacle akin to a rhinosaurus on the expressway.
And who the fuck takes the elevator and then gets on the step-machine?
I am strongly considering investing in an Old Country Buffet franchise and setting up shop in the parking lot just to alleviate the crowd in the gym. A more cost-effective solution might be a series of signs that read "Free Ham for Fatties" and have an arrow that points away from the gym entrance. Anyway, food for thought (get it?).
Oh, TBA merchandise is in the works. There is talk of a calendar, though I may just repackage an English Sheepdog calendar and tell people it's Matt. The similarities are frightening. Stay tuned for details.
Jim out!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Team Bad Ass needs your help
In an attempt to enhance our already badass image, TBA is looking into making t-shirts and hats. That way, even those that do not follow our blog can know how awesome we are. The only problem is that we cannot agree on a motto. Below are the options, let us know what you think.
1. “Trample the weak. Hurdle the dead.”
2. “That which does not kill you, makes you stronger.”
3. “Pain is weakness leaving the body”
4. “No retreat, no surrender.”
5. “Nut up or shut up.”
6. “We are the people our parents warned us about.”
I’d say that we welcome your submissions, but after seeing some of the inane and downright retarded comments that get posted, that really isn’t the case.
1. “Trample the weak. Hurdle the dead.”
2. “That which does not kill you, makes you stronger.”
3. “Pain is weakness leaving the body”
4. “No retreat, no surrender.”
5. “Nut up or shut up.”
6. “We are the people our parents warned us about.”
I’d say that we welcome your submissions, but after seeing some of the inane and downright retarded comments that get posted, that really isn’t the case.
Monday, January 11, 2010
2010 Race Schedule - For Real This Time!!!
Hello loyal readers! Hope the holiday season treated you well.
And a special hello to the disloyal assholes that like to send hate mail and leave negative comments. Hope you die in a fire!
Matt and I got together after our inaugural P90X class this morning and hammered out a race plan for 2010. It is a bold and challenging schedule that would impress even the most sinewy of athletes. And if it doesn’t, go to hell and then co-author your own blog with Hitler and Ted Kennedy. Better yet, set up a Twitter account so you can tweet updates to all of your faggot-ass friends.
Anyway, Matt and I met at TBA Headquarters (over Eggs Benedict and a club sandwich, respectively) and narrowed an almost endless list of marathons, triathlons, adventure races, and keggers to come up with our 2010 schedule. We decided on fifteen events which I will detail below.
The whole idea of Team Bad Ass was to train for a large event by competing in smaller ones, and I am confident that our schedule does that. We are going to start the season with primarily run-based events, then transition (no pun intended) into cycling and multisport events as we get further into the summer.
Team Bad Ass is currently waitlisted for the Hustle up the Hancock, a 94-flight stair climb up to the top of the John Hancock Building in Chicago. I don’t know when they will notify us, but I am not too hopeful. I guess we can just keep the hundred bucks and climb the stairs in my building nineteen times.
Our first race will be the Town Crier 10K in Saugatuck, Michigan. Matt and I competed in the Run Thru the Rapids 10K last October and we think the 10K distance will be a great start to our run season. Plus Matt can do some antiquing while we’re there.
A week after the Saugatuck 10K we’re going to up the ante with the Strider’s 10-miler in Grandville, Michigan. Last year we followed up the 10K with a half-marathon. We thought worked well, so we’re going to do it again.
Our first multisport event is the Steelcase Duathlon (run 5k, bike 30k, run 5k). The duathlon format is a new thing for us, but anything that keeps me out of the water is perfectly acceptable.
The Fifth-Third Riverbank Run will represent our longest distance race to date. At 25K (roughly 15.5 miles), we will once again be upping the ante, hoping to get one step closer to marathon distance. Also it’s right here in Grand Rapids, so it should be easy to get to. Plus they’re probably going to close down all the streets anyway, so what else would we be doing.
The Rockford Marathon is the early jewel of our race season. The 26.2 mile race is held in Rockford, Illinois and will probably be the most challenging thing I have will have accomplished thus far in my life. I can’t speak for Matt, he’s still bragging about beating a 6-year-old at “Don’t Break the Ice”. When the ice has broken, and the old man has fallen, the game is done…
TBA’s first triathlon will be the Seahorse Triathlon in Kalamazoo. It is a sprint distance race (500m swim, 20k bike, 5k run) that we picked to get us back into the swing of things. We’re both looking to best our already amazing time records we set in Traverse City last year.
We plan on starting off June with the 100 Grand Century, a 105 mile bike ride in Grand Rapids. We (read, Matt) copped out of the century ride last October and we ended up riding a “metric century” or 62 miles instead. This year we will ride the full hundred even if I have to keep a tazer with me on the bike to “encourage” Matt to keep pedaling.
Our second Tri will be the Bostwick Lake Triathlon in Rockford, Michigan. Like the Seahorse Tri in Kzoo, it is also a sprint distance race. The ranks of Team Bad Ass will likely swell during this race as numerous would-be triathletes have expressed interest in racing with us. So with that in mind there may be many cameo appearances on the team roster that day.
While I’m on the subject, if you would like to join the members of Team Bad Ass for an event, there are costs and requirements. For other guys, do know that you will be buying the post-race liquor and lap-dances. Ladies, you must be “smart” and have flexible morals.
This season, TBA will also be competing an event that actually requires a team! Muddy Buddy is a nationwide series of races where two-man teams alternate between running and mountain-biking through a six-mile obstacle course. The race ends with a long crawl through a mud pit. Muddy Buddy is probably the event that Matt and I are most looking forward to.
Our third triathlon will be the Lighthouse Triathlon in Ludington, Michigan. Also a sprint-distance race, the swim portion of the tri takes place in Lake Michigan which should be pretty cool. Plus there is a lighthouse. Apparently.
The Barefoot Triathlon in Traverse City will be TBA first Olympic distance race (1.5k swim, 26 mile bike, 6.2 mile run). We did the sprint distance last year, so this year we are going to kick it up a notch. The swim takes place in the Traverse Bay and this year we will likely not be able to touch the bottom which likely means that I have to learn how to swim.
We have a second century ride planned for late September. We’ll turn Matt into a cyclist yet! The Apple Cider Century starts in Three Oaks, Michigan and weaves 100 miles through rural roads in southern Michigan and northern Indiana. It’s too bad the route includes Indiana, which is arguably the worst state in the Union. No scratch that, there is no argument. Indiana sucks more balls than Elton John. I’d rather visit Pyongyang.
Run Thru the Rapids, is a 10K race along the Grand River though downtown Grand Rapids. With this race being so close, it would be ridiculous not to do it. We both hope to beat our times from last year, and after a race season as stacked as this one, we had better shave some serious time.
The Grand Rapids Marathon is a week after the Rapids 10K. It was between the Chicago Marathon and this one. We chose Grand Rapids so as to avoid having to drive anywhere. I can’t imagine wanting to drive anywhere after finishing a 26.2 mile run, especially a 3-hour drive that includes a stretch of the State of Indiana, which if you were reading carefully is the worst state in the Union. We ought to sell it to the Indians, maybe get back that case of firewater and chest full of glass beads that we paid for Manhattan. Plus with all the diseases already there, it’s likely impervious to smallpox. Too soon?
The pièce de résistance of our 2010 race season is the Battleship Triathlon in Wilmington, North Carolina. The race is a half-iron distance event (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run). This is the big one, well at least for us.
There will no doubt be minor alterations – Matt gets moody and I am well known for making wild, arbitrary decisions – but for the most part we are both excited about all of the events. There are also a couple of events that have not released dates just yet. Namely the Mitchell Run and the Millennium Triathlon.
Anyway, that’s the plan. All told it should total 3.2 miles of swimming, 556 miles of cycling, and 131 miles of running.
Let us know what you think so that I can mock you unmercifully in my next posting. Those leaving negative comments are required to leave a home address and times that you will be available for a severe ass-beating.
For those that really care or would like to join us, you can find the calendar below:
Sunday, Feb 28 – Hustle up the Hancock
Sunday, April 11 – Town Crier 10K
Saturday, April 17 – Strider’s 10-miler
Sunday, April 25 – Steelcase Duathlon
Saturday, May 8 – Riverbank Run 25K
Sunday, May 16 – Rockford Marathon
Sunday, May 30 – Seahorse Triathlon
Saturday, June 5 – 100 Grand Century
Sunday, July 4 – Bostwick Lake Triathlon
Sunday, August 1 – Muddy Buddy
Sunday, August 22 – Lighthouse Triathlon
Sunday, September 5 – Barefoot Triathlon
Sunday, September 26 – Apple Cider Century
Saturday, October 9 – Run Thru the Rapids
Sunday, October 17 – Grand Rapids Marathon
Saturday, Nov 13 – Battleship Triathlon 70.3
And a special hello to the disloyal assholes that like to send hate mail and leave negative comments. Hope you die in a fire!
Matt and I got together after our inaugural P90X class this morning and hammered out a race plan for 2010. It is a bold and challenging schedule that would impress even the most sinewy of athletes. And if it doesn’t, go to hell and then co-author your own blog with Hitler and Ted Kennedy. Better yet, set up a Twitter account so you can tweet updates to all of your faggot-ass friends.
Anyway, Matt and I met at TBA Headquarters (over Eggs Benedict and a club sandwich, respectively) and narrowed an almost endless list of marathons, triathlons, adventure races, and keggers to come up with our 2010 schedule. We decided on fifteen events which I will detail below.
The whole idea of Team Bad Ass was to train for a large event by competing in smaller ones, and I am confident that our schedule does that. We are going to start the season with primarily run-based events, then transition (no pun intended) into cycling and multisport events as we get further into the summer.
Team Bad Ass is currently waitlisted for the Hustle up the Hancock, a 94-flight stair climb up to the top of the John Hancock Building in Chicago. I don’t know when they will notify us, but I am not too hopeful. I guess we can just keep the hundred bucks and climb the stairs in my building nineteen times.
Our first race will be the Town Crier 10K in Saugatuck, Michigan. Matt and I competed in the Run Thru the Rapids 10K last October and we think the 10K distance will be a great start to our run season. Plus Matt can do some antiquing while we’re there.
A week after the Saugatuck 10K we’re going to up the ante with the Strider’s 10-miler in Grandville, Michigan. Last year we followed up the 10K with a half-marathon. We thought worked well, so we’re going to do it again.
Our first multisport event is the Steelcase Duathlon (run 5k, bike 30k, run 5k). The duathlon format is a new thing for us, but anything that keeps me out of the water is perfectly acceptable.
The Fifth-Third Riverbank Run will represent our longest distance race to date. At 25K (roughly 15.5 miles), we will once again be upping the ante, hoping to get one step closer to marathon distance. Also it’s right here in Grand Rapids, so it should be easy to get to. Plus they’re probably going to close down all the streets anyway, so what else would we be doing.
The Rockford Marathon is the early jewel of our race season. The 26.2 mile race is held in Rockford, Illinois and will probably be the most challenging thing I have will have accomplished thus far in my life. I can’t speak for Matt, he’s still bragging about beating a 6-year-old at “Don’t Break the Ice”. When the ice has broken, and the old man has fallen, the game is done…
TBA’s first triathlon will be the Seahorse Triathlon in Kalamazoo. It is a sprint distance race (500m swim, 20k bike, 5k run) that we picked to get us back into the swing of things. We’re both looking to best our already amazing time records we set in Traverse City last year.
We plan on starting off June with the 100 Grand Century, a 105 mile bike ride in Grand Rapids. We (read, Matt) copped out of the century ride last October and we ended up riding a “metric century” or 62 miles instead. This year we will ride the full hundred even if I have to keep a tazer with me on the bike to “encourage” Matt to keep pedaling.
Our second Tri will be the Bostwick Lake Triathlon in Rockford, Michigan. Like the Seahorse Tri in Kzoo, it is also a sprint distance race. The ranks of Team Bad Ass will likely swell during this race as numerous would-be triathletes have expressed interest in racing with us. So with that in mind there may be many cameo appearances on the team roster that day.
While I’m on the subject, if you would like to join the members of Team Bad Ass for an event, there are costs and requirements. For other guys, do know that you will be buying the post-race liquor and lap-dances. Ladies, you must be “smart” and have flexible morals.
This season, TBA will also be competing an event that actually requires a team! Muddy Buddy is a nationwide series of races where two-man teams alternate between running and mountain-biking through a six-mile obstacle course. The race ends with a long crawl through a mud pit. Muddy Buddy is probably the event that Matt and I are most looking forward to.
Our third triathlon will be the Lighthouse Triathlon in Ludington, Michigan. Also a sprint-distance race, the swim portion of the tri takes place in Lake Michigan which should be pretty cool. Plus there is a lighthouse. Apparently.
The Barefoot Triathlon in Traverse City will be TBA first Olympic distance race (1.5k swim, 26 mile bike, 6.2 mile run). We did the sprint distance last year, so this year we are going to kick it up a notch. The swim takes place in the Traverse Bay and this year we will likely not be able to touch the bottom which likely means that I have to learn how to swim.
We have a second century ride planned for late September. We’ll turn Matt into a cyclist yet! The Apple Cider Century starts in Three Oaks, Michigan and weaves 100 miles through rural roads in southern Michigan and northern Indiana. It’s too bad the route includes Indiana, which is arguably the worst state in the Union. No scratch that, there is no argument. Indiana sucks more balls than Elton John. I’d rather visit Pyongyang.
Run Thru the Rapids, is a 10K race along the Grand River though downtown Grand Rapids. With this race being so close, it would be ridiculous not to do it. We both hope to beat our times from last year, and after a race season as stacked as this one, we had better shave some serious time.
The Grand Rapids Marathon is a week after the Rapids 10K. It was between the Chicago Marathon and this one. We chose Grand Rapids so as to avoid having to drive anywhere. I can’t imagine wanting to drive anywhere after finishing a 26.2 mile run, especially a 3-hour drive that includes a stretch of the State of Indiana, which if you were reading carefully is the worst state in the Union. We ought to sell it to the Indians, maybe get back that case of firewater and chest full of glass beads that we paid for Manhattan. Plus with all the diseases already there, it’s likely impervious to smallpox. Too soon?
The pièce de résistance of our 2010 race season is the Battleship Triathlon in Wilmington, North Carolina. The race is a half-iron distance event (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run). This is the big one, well at least for us.
There will no doubt be minor alterations – Matt gets moody and I am well known for making wild, arbitrary decisions – but for the most part we are both excited about all of the events. There are also a couple of events that have not released dates just yet. Namely the Mitchell Run and the Millennium Triathlon.
Anyway, that’s the plan. All told it should total 3.2 miles of swimming, 556 miles of cycling, and 131 miles of running.
Let us know what you think so that I can mock you unmercifully in my next posting. Those leaving negative comments are required to leave a home address and times that you will be available for a severe ass-beating.
For those that really care or would like to join us, you can find the calendar below:
Sunday, Feb 28 – Hustle up the Hancock
Sunday, April 11 – Town Crier 10K
Saturday, April 17 – Strider’s 10-miler
Sunday, April 25 – Steelcase Duathlon
Saturday, May 8 – Riverbank Run 25K
Sunday, May 16 – Rockford Marathon
Sunday, May 30 – Seahorse Triathlon
Saturday, June 5 – 100 Grand Century
Sunday, July 4 – Bostwick Lake Triathlon
Sunday, August 1 – Muddy Buddy
Sunday, August 22 – Lighthouse Triathlon
Sunday, September 5 – Barefoot Triathlon
Sunday, September 26 – Apple Cider Century
Saturday, October 9 – Run Thru the Rapids
Sunday, October 17 – Grand Rapids Marathon
Saturday, Nov 13 – Battleship Triathlon 70.3
Thursday, December 10, 2009
TBA Welcomes New Member
Jim here again. Matt and I would like to announce that Derek Wheeler has survived the arduous new member approval process. We welcome him as the newest addition to Team Bad Ass. The application/approval process is quite rigorous and is not recommended for the faint of heart or anyone who doesn’t appreciate rampant vulgarity and unabashed ball-busting.
TBA's 2010 Schedule
Okay, so the heading is a lie, we have not yet finalized a schedule, but we do have a tenative schedule for the spring. Once all of the race dates have been finalized, Team Bad Ass will call a meeting, imbibe copious amounts of bourbon, and argue until either a schedule is produced or a fistfight ensues. That’s how we do shit.
In related news, Team Bad Ass has selected its first Ironman race. Well technically it’s not owned by the World Triathlon Corporation, so they can’t call it “Ironman”. Anyway, Wilmington, North Carolina is the site of the Beach 2 Battleship Triathlon, which offers a full-Iron distance race (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run) and a half-Iron distance race (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run). It’s not until November 2010, but it is in a warmer climate, its right by the ocean, and there is a fucking battleship involved! But perhaps the best part is the race's proximity to Matt's sister and nephew with whom Jim cannot wait to watch cartoons.
Anyway, Matt wants to do the half-iron and Jim wants to do the full one (if you haven’t figured it out yet Jim is all man, and doesn’t fuck around). This difference of opinion will likely be settled at a Team Bad Ass meeting, if not by argument, then by a fistfight. Jim has the weight and reach advantages, he is also a mean bastard with a dirty left hook and a wild right haymaker.
Regardless of whether or not Jim lets Matt get his way, our general plan (training for a large event by competing in smaller events) will not change. Reasonable minds might differ about the effectiveness of our plan, but we never once claimed to be reasonable people. Sure we could do a more traditional style of training, but our main goal when we started this thing was to have fun with it and not take it so seriously that it controls our lives.
When picking out races, the idea was to build some running endurance and maybe do some speed-work in the early part of the spring with a race every couple weeks or so. So with that in mind we picked out a series of races with increasing distances. Starting with a 5K in March and building up to the Bayshore Marathon in Traverse City at the end of May.
So our tentative spring schedule looks like this:
Saturday, March 6 – Black River Rat Race 5K, Holland
Saturday, March 27 – Ridge Run 15K, Kent City
Sunday, April 11 – Town Crier 5K and 10K, Saugatuck
Saturday, April 17 – Strider’s Classic 10-mile, Grandville
Saturday, May 8 – Riverbank Run 25K, Grand Rapids
Saturday, May 29 – Bayshore Marathon, Traverse City
Hope to see you out there. Unless you are a douchebag. In that case just stay home and play with your cats. Nobody likes you and you’ll probably die cold and alone.
Oh, I almost forgot, Samoans are not welcome either.
They know why.
In related news, Team Bad Ass has selected its first Ironman race. Well technically it’s not owned by the World Triathlon Corporation, so they can’t call it “Ironman”. Anyway, Wilmington, North Carolina is the site of the Beach 2 Battleship Triathlon, which offers a full-Iron distance race (2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run) and a half-Iron distance race (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13.1 mile run). It’s not until November 2010, but it is in a warmer climate, its right by the ocean, and there is a fucking battleship involved! But perhaps the best part is the race's proximity to Matt's sister and nephew with whom Jim cannot wait to watch cartoons.
Anyway, Matt wants to do the half-iron and Jim wants to do the full one (if you haven’t figured it out yet Jim is all man, and doesn’t fuck around). This difference of opinion will likely be settled at a Team Bad Ass meeting, if not by argument, then by a fistfight. Jim has the weight and reach advantages, he is also a mean bastard with a dirty left hook and a wild right haymaker.
Regardless of whether or not Jim lets Matt get his way, our general plan (training for a large event by competing in smaller events) will not change. Reasonable minds might differ about the effectiveness of our plan, but we never once claimed to be reasonable people. Sure we could do a more traditional style of training, but our main goal when we started this thing was to have fun with it and not take it so seriously that it controls our lives.
When picking out races, the idea was to build some running endurance and maybe do some speed-work in the early part of the spring with a race every couple weeks or so. So with that in mind we picked out a series of races with increasing distances. Starting with a 5K in March and building up to the Bayshore Marathon in Traverse City at the end of May.
So our tentative spring schedule looks like this:
Saturday, March 6 – Black River Rat Race 5K, Holland
Saturday, March 27 – Ridge Run 15K, Kent City
Sunday, April 11 – Town Crier 5K and 10K, Saugatuck
Saturday, April 17 – Strider’s Classic 10-mile, Grandville
Saturday, May 8 – Riverbank Run 25K, Grand Rapids
Saturday, May 29 – Bayshore Marathon, Traverse City
Hope to see you out there. Unless you are a douchebag. In that case just stay home and play with your cats. Nobody likes you and you’ll probably die cold and alone.
Oh, I almost forgot, Samoans are not welcome either.
They know why.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Training
Sorry to break up the timeline, but I intended this blog to be more than just a recap of our races, I wanted to document the process of getting into Ironman shape. And the event write-ups (while a major part of this thing) are not all there is to it. So in addition to the race reports, I will interject training updates along with my own hastily-crafted, disjointed, and often vulgar commentary.
So anyway, lately Matt and I have been hitting the gym harder than a whore caught stealing from her pimp. In months past, our general gym program was to show up, run a few laps, and then do a few sets of legs, chest, or arms. Occasionally we'd hit the pool. The plan was decent, I suppose, and I am probably in better shape now than I ever have been. But our current system was not going to get us where we needed to go.
Our new plan is to switch between strength and cardio days, not to say that we won't have hybrid days, but only one will be the focus. We also have to get in the pool more often, even though I hate it more than I hate Michael Moore. Fuck that fat, self-righteous prick-bastard.
We finally got the heart-rate monitors working this week. Until now, we were working solely on distance, now we run by time and heart rate. Plus we get to use cool gadgets. Let's face it; we're both really just twelve year olds with cooler toys.
We also started a supplement regimen to make sure that we're getting the most out of our workouts. Maybe next year we'll start taking roids.
All that remains now is for us to figure out how to work spin classes and some other programs into our routine. With any hope, we'll emerge in the spring with me being able to swim and Matt being able to ride a bike. But then I remember the expression "Hope in one hand and shit it the other...See which one fills up faster."
Maybe I can even take the training wheels off of Matt's bike. Who knows?
Baby steps.
So anyway, lately Matt and I have been hitting the gym harder than a whore caught stealing from her pimp. In months past, our general gym program was to show up, run a few laps, and then do a few sets of legs, chest, or arms. Occasionally we'd hit the pool. The plan was decent, I suppose, and I am probably in better shape now than I ever have been. But our current system was not going to get us where we needed to go.
Our new plan is to switch between strength and cardio days, not to say that we won't have hybrid days, but only one will be the focus. We also have to get in the pool more often, even though I hate it more than I hate Michael Moore. Fuck that fat, self-righteous prick-bastard.
We finally got the heart-rate monitors working this week. Until now, we were working solely on distance, now we run by time and heart rate. Plus we get to use cool gadgets. Let's face it; we're both really just twelve year olds with cooler toys.
We also started a supplement regimen to make sure that we're getting the most out of our workouts. Maybe next year we'll start taking roids.
All that remains now is for us to figure out how to work spin classes and some other programs into our routine. With any hope, we'll emerge in the spring with me being able to swim and Matt being able to ride a bike. But then I remember the expression "Hope in one hand and shit it the other...See which one fills up faster."
Maybe I can even take the training wheels off of Matt's bike. Who knows?
Baby steps.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Barefoot Triathlon, Epilogue
This race was fantastic. We ran it hard and both of us exceeded even our wildest expectations for how it would turn out. However – hindsight being 20/20 – there were definitely mistakes made that affected performance.
My decision to hold back on the bike was one such mistake. Even though it allowed me to best my stand-alone 5K time (decent considering it came at the end of the tri). I think I could have shaved more time by hammering on the bike than I did by saving energy for the run. It was clearly a tactical error but perhaps also a lesson about changing strategy on the fly.
My transitions also need work. People who competed in wetsuits had superior T1 times even though they have to go through the additional step of taking off a soaked wetsuit. As for my T2 time, I think that by switching from clipless pedals and bike shoes to toe-clips and straps, I can shave about a minute off of my time by not having to change shoes. The shoes/clipless pedals might provide an advantage in longer races, but I think the transition time benefit in sprint distance races is more substantial.
Team Bad Ass will run this race again. This time with the goal of beating 1:30:00 and winning our age group.
My decision to hold back on the bike was one such mistake. Even though it allowed me to best my stand-alone 5K time (decent considering it came at the end of the tri). I think I could have shaved more time by hammering on the bike than I did by saving energy for the run. It was clearly a tactical error but perhaps also a lesson about changing strategy on the fly.
My transitions also need work. People who competed in wetsuits had superior T1 times even though they have to go through the additional step of taking off a soaked wetsuit. As for my T2 time, I think that by switching from clipless pedals and bike shoes to toe-clips and straps, I can shave about a minute off of my time by not having to change shoes. The shoes/clipless pedals might provide an advantage in longer races, but I think the transition time benefit in sprint distance races is more substantial.
Team Bad Ass will run this race again. This time with the goal of beating 1:30:00 and winning our age group.
Barefoot Triathlon Part II: Race Day. September 6th 2009
Breakfast in the morning was most choice; Team Bad Ass woke up before dawn and fuelled up on oatmeal, bananas, and coffee. We then drove up to the race to set up both of the transition areas. While performing a final check on the bicycles, I discovered a broken valve on Matt’s bike. I swapped out the tube in less than 2 minutes. I am awesome.
As we stood on the beach waiting for the earlier waves to begin, I recited my usual prerace incantation, “As I walk through the valley of death I fear nothing, for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.” Matt, always the consummate politician, spent the waiting time chatting up a couple of assholes in wetsuits.
The race organizers had everyone in our wave line up before heading out into the bay for the water-start, ostensibly so they could make sure that everyone that went into the water came out of the water. While lined up on the beach waiting to check in, we noticed the guy in front of us was wearing a polypropylene tri-shirt with numerous sponsors on the back, including the bike shop that I worked at and the bar that Matt manages. Despite this ridiculous coincidence, neither of us was aware of this tri-team’s existence.
The race director instructed us to head out to the starting buoy and we started to slog our way out into the water. The first thing we realized was that the water temperature was about ten degrees cooler than it was the day before. They gave us a countdown, then a starting bell, and we were off.
Knowing that I am likely a worse swimmer than Mary Jo Kopechne (too soon?), I tried to stay to the side of the main group. For the most part the water was between five and six feet deep, allowing Matt and myself to run along the bottom when we had to catch our breath. We kept up this swim/aqua-run system for the entirety of the swim, eventually exiting the swim with the top two swim times in our age group. 8:57 and 8:58.
Exiting the water required us traversing some serious mud and weeds before getting to the shore. Had the exit been like the entrance, I think everyone’s swim time would have improved by about a minute.
The first transition went well. We both switched into bike mode in less than four minutes. I remember having a difficult time getting socks onto my wet feet; I probably looked like one of Jerry’s Kids hopping around like an idiot. Once we were out of the chute and on the bike course, I idled a bit waiting for Matt to catch up. Well actually, I was trying to get my gloves on…making sure Matt was alright was secondary to ensuring that my palms were protected.
The bike course was hillier that I had expected, but so much the better because I am a terror on a bike and a champion on hills. I have climbed summits in California, conquered mountains in Arizona, and demolished the Texas Hill Country. Michigan’s hills would not stop me.
About halfway through the bike portion, I realized that I had based my triathlon strategy on a floundering swim. I had only planned on making it out of the water alive. My bike strength was supposed to make up for my swim weakness. That was no longer necessary. So I decided to cut back a bit on the bike, to save some energy for the run – something I never thought I would be in a position to care about. I ended up clocking a 56:32 on the bike. Matt powered through with a 1:00:59.
The second transition was a pain in the ass for me (Matt kicked the shit out of it). Rather than dismounting the bicycle before entering the transition area, the douche-bag in front of me just rode right through the chute, colliding with another racer just beyond my sight. The whole thing slowed me down by about thirty seconds while race people intervened to clear the area. I also had to change out of my bike shoes and into my running shoes. All told it took me a 1:45. Matt smoked through in 0:47.
The run was horseshit. We tried training for the transition from bike to run, but neither of us was really prepared. Our legs felt like jelly for at least the first half mile, during which time I considered quitting. I would have gone through with it, but I spied a fat woman plugging away with an arrogant Cheshire Cat grin on her face and my thoughts of quitting were quickly abated. I had to beat this woman.
The run course routed us through the back part of the resort and featured two out-and-back sections, allowing you to size up competition as they ran past you going the other way. After about a mile, I saw Matt and we traded thumbs-ups. He looked like he was doing okay, but he told me afterwards that he wanted to die at that point.
The race finish was at the top of a decent sized incline – not quite a hill, but a long stretch of uphill running was required. I kicked it into gear and tore up the hill like a meth head running from a police after a high-speed chase. I don’t fully recall crossing the finish line, but I do recall ruining several people’s finish-line photo-ops by passing them just before the chute.
I ended up with a 26:32 run time, giving me a final time 1:37:26. Good enough for 2nd place in our age group.
Matt finished the run in 25:46, giving him a final time of 1:40:26, and earning him 4th place in the age group.
Team Bad Ass had completed its first triathlon and taken one more small step toward completing an Ironman. Huzzah!
As we stood on the beach waiting for the earlier waves to begin, I recited my usual prerace incantation, “As I walk through the valley of death I fear nothing, for I am the meanest motherfucker in the valley.” Matt, always the consummate politician, spent the waiting time chatting up a couple of assholes in wetsuits.
The race organizers had everyone in our wave line up before heading out into the bay for the water-start, ostensibly so they could make sure that everyone that went into the water came out of the water. While lined up on the beach waiting to check in, we noticed the guy in front of us was wearing a polypropylene tri-shirt with numerous sponsors on the back, including the bike shop that I worked at and the bar that Matt manages. Despite this ridiculous coincidence, neither of us was aware of this tri-team’s existence.
The race director instructed us to head out to the starting buoy and we started to slog our way out into the water. The first thing we realized was that the water temperature was about ten degrees cooler than it was the day before. They gave us a countdown, then a starting bell, and we were off.
Knowing that I am likely a worse swimmer than Mary Jo Kopechne (too soon?), I tried to stay to the side of the main group. For the most part the water was between five and six feet deep, allowing Matt and myself to run along the bottom when we had to catch our breath. We kept up this swim/aqua-run system for the entirety of the swim, eventually exiting the swim with the top two swim times in our age group. 8:57 and 8:58.
Exiting the water required us traversing some serious mud and weeds before getting to the shore. Had the exit been like the entrance, I think everyone’s swim time would have improved by about a minute.
The first transition went well. We both switched into bike mode in less than four minutes. I remember having a difficult time getting socks onto my wet feet; I probably looked like one of Jerry’s Kids hopping around like an idiot. Once we were out of the chute and on the bike course, I idled a bit waiting for Matt to catch up. Well actually, I was trying to get my gloves on…making sure Matt was alright was secondary to ensuring that my palms were protected.
The bike course was hillier that I had expected, but so much the better because I am a terror on a bike and a champion on hills. I have climbed summits in California, conquered mountains in Arizona, and demolished the Texas Hill Country. Michigan’s hills would not stop me.
About halfway through the bike portion, I realized that I had based my triathlon strategy on a floundering swim. I had only planned on making it out of the water alive. My bike strength was supposed to make up for my swim weakness. That was no longer necessary. So I decided to cut back a bit on the bike, to save some energy for the run – something I never thought I would be in a position to care about. I ended up clocking a 56:32 on the bike. Matt powered through with a 1:00:59.
The second transition was a pain in the ass for me (Matt kicked the shit out of it). Rather than dismounting the bicycle before entering the transition area, the douche-bag in front of me just rode right through the chute, colliding with another racer just beyond my sight. The whole thing slowed me down by about thirty seconds while race people intervened to clear the area. I also had to change out of my bike shoes and into my running shoes. All told it took me a 1:45. Matt smoked through in 0:47.
The run was horseshit. We tried training for the transition from bike to run, but neither of us was really prepared. Our legs felt like jelly for at least the first half mile, during which time I considered quitting. I would have gone through with it, but I spied a fat woman plugging away with an arrogant Cheshire Cat grin on her face and my thoughts of quitting were quickly abated. I had to beat this woman.
The run course routed us through the back part of the resort and featured two out-and-back sections, allowing you to size up competition as they ran past you going the other way. After about a mile, I saw Matt and we traded thumbs-ups. He looked like he was doing okay, but he told me afterwards that he wanted to die at that point.
The race finish was at the top of a decent sized incline – not quite a hill, but a long stretch of uphill running was required. I kicked it into gear and tore up the hill like a meth head running from a police after a high-speed chase. I don’t fully recall crossing the finish line, but I do recall ruining several people’s finish-line photo-ops by passing them just before the chute.
I ended up with a 26:32 run time, giving me a final time 1:37:26. Good enough for 2nd place in our age group.
Matt finished the run in 25:46, giving him a final time of 1:40:26, and earning him 4th place in the age group.
Team Bad Ass had completed its first triathlon and taken one more small step toward completing an Ironman. Huzzah!
**Jim can be seen on the far right with the awesome eagle tatoo on his chest. Matt was running on Jim's left and for some reason was cut out of the picture. He has also failed to provide Jim with any of the other pictures taken during the race so he cannot bitch.**
Barefoot Triathlon Part I: The Day Before
Jim here again for TBA. When we left off, we had run a 5K and tried to run a triathlon, but it was cancelled. Team Bad Ass was in bad shape. A team established to run triathlons has so far run nothing but a 5K. Fuck, I mean retards and terminal cancer patients can run 5Ks. We needed a tri, but more importantly we needed to get our shit together.
I went about finding a race. It was a bit of a pain in the ass, finding one that we could do that: A.) wasn’t a complete piece of shit; B.) wasn’t too far away; and C.) didn’t conflict with our complex, stacked social calendar.
I found a bunch of garbage races – bullshit set up behind the Podunk Fire Department outside of Shitville, Michigan, where they have the half dozen racers take turns swimming laps in the city pool – but there was nothing that really stood out.
I came across the Barefoot Triathlon as kind of a fluke, having seen a bunch of listings for a race in Gaylord (Matt really wanted to go), but there wasn’t a functional website. I called the race organizer who informed me that it had been cancelled. But there was a silver lining in the shit-storm cloud; the race was to be replaced with one at the Grand Traverse Resort in Traverse City. Done fucking deal.
We signed up for the inaugural Barefoot Triathlon (Barefoot is the name of the resort’s concierge magazine, the race is not actually run barefoot. This is Michigan, not Appalachia) and actually started doing some training.
We hit the gym quite a bit in the month or so leading up to the event, but I think our run training and swimming were more helpful. Though, more than once, I contemplated murdering Matt for making me run.
The day before race day, we piled all of our shit into my car and hit the road. One of Team Bad Ass’s many fans joined us for the car ride. She was planning on meeting people in Traverse City, so we would actually have a spectator this time.
The ride up was pleasant, save for the biohazards that Matt would release periodically. Seriously, something is dead inside of that guy. I had been to Traverse City once before on a two-day bike tour in 2008 (The Bob Chappuis Michigan Bicycle Adventure). It was a decent town, but most of my time there was spent gambling and drinking.
We got to town in the early afternoon on the day prior to the race. Driving up along the bay, we could see the marker buoys already set up for the swim – large orange spheres for the Olympic distance, and yellow ones for our Sprint distance race. Packet pickup went rather smoothly once we figured out just where the hell it was. All three of us missed the giant circus tent the race folks had erected just beyond the parking lot at the Grand Traverse Resort.
This particular race had two separate transition areas; one from swim to bike (T1), and another for bike to run (T2). We drove down to check out the swim start and were initially thwarted by a slovenly guard with a beer gut at a security gate. Matt stepped out of the car and disappeared into the guard’s booth for a few minutes. They both came out and we were allowed to proceed down to the beach. Matt was unusually quiet for some time afterwards and he is still very guarded about the whole transaction. But talk about being a team player!
The swim course was to start in the water, swim out to the first buoy, turn and swim parallel to the beach, then turn and head in to the swim-exit. The space between the swim-exit and the first transition area looked to be fairly convoluted. There was a boardwalk that we would have to run on and a pool house that we would have to run around. I found myself thinking that the course would be better swum in reverse. We got in the water and found the water temperature to be much warmer than we had anticipated.
After checking in and out of the Super 8 motel (details are being withheld until various statutes of limitation run out), we headed over to the casino. We opted not to hit up the buffet so as not to be bloated fat-asses in the morning. We instead ate a real shitty meal in the casino deli. With the possible exception of the poorly prepared chicken tenders, the casino treated us pretty well; I won about a hundred bucks playing craps and blackjack, Matt cleared about eighty dollars on the slot machines. What a bitch.
Our new hotel was much closer to the race start, and it had a pool/hot tub and breakfast. We soaked in the hot tub for awhile before heading to bed.
I went about finding a race. It was a bit of a pain in the ass, finding one that we could do that: A.) wasn’t a complete piece of shit; B.) wasn’t too far away; and C.) didn’t conflict with our complex, stacked social calendar.
I found a bunch of garbage races – bullshit set up behind the Podunk Fire Department outside of Shitville, Michigan, where they have the half dozen racers take turns swimming laps in the city pool – but there was nothing that really stood out.
I came across the Barefoot Triathlon as kind of a fluke, having seen a bunch of listings for a race in Gaylord (Matt really wanted to go), but there wasn’t a functional website. I called the race organizer who informed me that it had been cancelled. But there was a silver lining in the shit-storm cloud; the race was to be replaced with one at the Grand Traverse Resort in Traverse City. Done fucking deal.
We signed up for the inaugural Barefoot Triathlon (Barefoot is the name of the resort’s concierge magazine, the race is not actually run barefoot. This is Michigan, not Appalachia) and actually started doing some training.
We hit the gym quite a bit in the month or so leading up to the event, but I think our run training and swimming were more helpful. Though, more than once, I contemplated murdering Matt for making me run.
The day before race day, we piled all of our shit into my car and hit the road. One of Team Bad Ass’s many fans joined us for the car ride. She was planning on meeting people in Traverse City, so we would actually have a spectator this time.
The ride up was pleasant, save for the biohazards that Matt would release periodically. Seriously, something is dead inside of that guy. I had been to Traverse City once before on a two-day bike tour in 2008 (The Bob Chappuis Michigan Bicycle Adventure). It was a decent town, but most of my time there was spent gambling and drinking.
We got to town in the early afternoon on the day prior to the race. Driving up along the bay, we could see the marker buoys already set up for the swim – large orange spheres for the Olympic distance, and yellow ones for our Sprint distance race. Packet pickup went rather smoothly once we figured out just where the hell it was. All three of us missed the giant circus tent the race folks had erected just beyond the parking lot at the Grand Traverse Resort.
This particular race had two separate transition areas; one from swim to bike (T1), and another for bike to run (T2). We drove down to check out the swim start and were initially thwarted by a slovenly guard with a beer gut at a security gate. Matt stepped out of the car and disappeared into the guard’s booth for a few minutes. They both came out and we were allowed to proceed down to the beach. Matt was unusually quiet for some time afterwards and he is still very guarded about the whole transaction. But talk about being a team player!
The swim course was to start in the water, swim out to the first buoy, turn and swim parallel to the beach, then turn and head in to the swim-exit. The space between the swim-exit and the first transition area looked to be fairly convoluted. There was a boardwalk that we would have to run on and a pool house that we would have to run around. I found myself thinking that the course would be better swum in reverse. We got in the water and found the water temperature to be much warmer than we had anticipated.
After checking in and out of the Super 8 motel (details are being withheld until various statutes of limitation run out), we headed over to the casino. We opted not to hit up the buffet so as not to be bloated fat-asses in the morning. We instead ate a real shitty meal in the casino deli. With the possible exception of the poorly prepared chicken tenders, the casino treated us pretty well; I won about a hundred bucks playing craps and blackjack, Matt cleared about eighty dollars on the slot machines. What a bitch.
Our new hotel was much closer to the race start, and it had a pool/hot tub and breakfast. We soaked in the hot tub for awhile before heading to bed.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
2009 Race Season
Jim again. I got numerous e-mails from people bitching about the slowness of my blogging. Let me answer all of them right now. Fuck off! I'll finish them when I finish them and I've only been doing this for a couple days.
Do you think it's easy to string together insults and curse words while maintaining an effective narrative? Then write your own god damned blog. I have to write them in between my drinking, training, and law school bullshit. So be patient, and I promise the future entries will be worth the wait.
Anyway someone asked that I post what our 2009 event schedule looked like and how the 2010 schedule is shaping up. I think I can handle that.
2009 Team Bad Ass Events
Millennium Triathlon – Cancelled
Mitchell Run thru Rockford 5K, August 15th
Barefoot Triathlon in Traverse City, September 9th
Apple Cider Century in Three Oaks, September 27th
Run Thru the Rapids 10K, October 10th
Grand Rapids Half Marathon, October 18th
Nike Human Race 5K and 10K, October 24th
The 2010 schedule is still a work in progress. There will for sure be a couple marathons and a Half Ironman. The precise details are still up in the air.
Do you think it's easy to string together insults and curse words while maintaining an effective narrative? Then write your own god damned blog. I have to write them in between my drinking, training, and law school bullshit. So be patient, and I promise the future entries will be worth the wait.
Anyway someone asked that I post what our 2009 event schedule looked like and how the 2010 schedule is shaping up. I think I can handle that.
2009 Team Bad Ass Events
Millennium Triathlon – Cancelled
Mitchell Run thru Rockford 5K, August 15th
Barefoot Triathlon in Traverse City, September 9th
Apple Cider Century in Three Oaks, September 27th
Run Thru the Rapids 10K, October 10th
Grand Rapids Half Marathon, October 18th
Nike Human Race 5K and 10K, October 24th
The 2010 schedule is still a work in progress. There will for sure be a couple marathons and a Half Ironman. The precise details are still up in the air.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
The Bullshit Millennium Triathlon, August 8th 2009
The first event we picked – long before we jerked off our egos enough to convince each other that we could even contemplate running an Ironman – was the Millennium Triathlon in Grand Rapids.
The Millennium was to be Matt’s first tri (Jim already ran one…well two, but one was a joke) but the weather gods did not smile on us that day.
Our training was fairly lackadaisical (for you philistines, that means half-assed. See that, Matt, I’m always looking out for you.). We rode bikes a couple times–maybe 15 miles apiece, we ran four or five times, and swam thrice. Despite the meager smattering of training, we were fairly confident that we could finish the race. To hell with actually competing.
The morning of the race came sooner than either of us thought it would. This actually became a trend during our race season. We’d sign up for an event, months in advance, and then plan a regimented training program only to wake up the morning of the event and realize that we hadn’t done shit.
Anyway, the morning of the Millennium Tri came replete with ominous clouds and threatening lighting. No bueno for a race that involves an open water swim. We talked on the phone about the likelihood of the race officials cancelling the race and decided to head down there anyway. We met at the race when it was still dark. Parking was a nightmare – 500 cars jockeying for spots in a muddy lot serviced by a single lane road. They might as well have had a gang of quadriplegic Down’s syndrome patients directing traffic.
We set up the bikes in the transition area and then waited around trying to figure out if they were actually going to run the damn thing. We walked around a bit, checked out the swim course and the run entrance, but mostly just people watched. Jim decided that he didn’t care about the race results as long as he beat one person. So before every event he sizes people up and picks out the lucky asshole that he is going to beat. He settled on a pigeon-toed, obese man with more nervous ticks than a Belfast valet driver. He sets the bar really high in all his endeavors. Matt picked a 12-year-old girl, but changed it when Jim told him that the goal of the exercise was to beat their time, not beat them physically. He settled on a older, hag of a woman with a club foot and an awful respiratory problem that resulted in a loud wheeze whenever she picked up her pace. The melody made by the tapping of her club foot and her death wheeze sounded a bit like a rabid warthog with a bad limp.
After picking out the losers they wanted to beat, the team captains (yes, there are two captains despite the fact that the team only has two members) finalized their respective strategies. Matt can run and swim but is a bit weak on the bike; Jim is a lousy swimmer and a terrible runner, but a god damn terror on a bicycle. Likewise, Matt’s strategy was to push himself in the swim, pace himself on the bike, and run it out to finish the race. Jim had a different plan, he was going to get through the swim without drowning and then leave everything on the bike course. He made no preparations to save any energy for the run course.
On the way back to the transition area, we saw a mass exodus of people heading to the parking lot with their bikes; clearly the race had been called and they didn’t have the decency to inform Team Bad Ass. Faggots.
Not wanting to accept the fact that the race was cancelled due to weather, especially when it wasn’t even raining at that point, we decided to race anyway. We walked to the swim start and saw that a few other people had the same idea. We got into the water just as the rain started and just as expected Matt pulled away almost immediately, about 150 yards into it the Sheriff’s patrol boat with the scuba divers pulled up next to us and told us to get out of the water. Jim pretended not to hear the deputy and kept swimming, causing the boat to double back and the officer to yell.
“Get out of the water! I’m not going to tell you again.” screamed the deputy.
Jim could not resist.
“What?” he asked.
“Get the FUCK out of the water!”
Jim got the fuck out of the water.
Though the event was a failure on paper, it was a success in that it caused us to see where we needed to focus our efforts. We’d be ready for the next tri.
The Millennium was to be Matt’s first tri (Jim already ran one…well two, but one was a joke) but the weather gods did not smile on us that day.
Our training was fairly lackadaisical (for you philistines, that means half-assed. See that, Matt, I’m always looking out for you.). We rode bikes a couple times–maybe 15 miles apiece, we ran four or five times, and swam thrice. Despite the meager smattering of training, we were fairly confident that we could finish the race. To hell with actually competing.
The morning of the race came sooner than either of us thought it would. This actually became a trend during our race season. We’d sign up for an event, months in advance, and then plan a regimented training program only to wake up the morning of the event and realize that we hadn’t done shit.
Anyway, the morning of the Millennium Tri came replete with ominous clouds and threatening lighting. No bueno for a race that involves an open water swim. We talked on the phone about the likelihood of the race officials cancelling the race and decided to head down there anyway. We met at the race when it was still dark. Parking was a nightmare – 500 cars jockeying for spots in a muddy lot serviced by a single lane road. They might as well have had a gang of quadriplegic Down’s syndrome patients directing traffic.
We set up the bikes in the transition area and then waited around trying to figure out if they were actually going to run the damn thing. We walked around a bit, checked out the swim course and the run entrance, but mostly just people watched. Jim decided that he didn’t care about the race results as long as he beat one person. So before every event he sizes people up and picks out the lucky asshole that he is going to beat. He settled on a pigeon-toed, obese man with more nervous ticks than a Belfast valet driver. He sets the bar really high in all his endeavors. Matt picked a 12-year-old girl, but changed it when Jim told him that the goal of the exercise was to beat their time, not beat them physically. He settled on a older, hag of a woman with a club foot and an awful respiratory problem that resulted in a loud wheeze whenever she picked up her pace. The melody made by the tapping of her club foot and her death wheeze sounded a bit like a rabid warthog with a bad limp.
After picking out the losers they wanted to beat, the team captains (yes, there are two captains despite the fact that the team only has two members) finalized their respective strategies. Matt can run and swim but is a bit weak on the bike; Jim is a lousy swimmer and a terrible runner, but a god damn terror on a bicycle. Likewise, Matt’s strategy was to push himself in the swim, pace himself on the bike, and run it out to finish the race. Jim had a different plan, he was going to get through the swim without drowning and then leave everything on the bike course. He made no preparations to save any energy for the run course.
On the way back to the transition area, we saw a mass exodus of people heading to the parking lot with their bikes; clearly the race had been called and they didn’t have the decency to inform Team Bad Ass. Faggots.
Not wanting to accept the fact that the race was cancelled due to weather, especially when it wasn’t even raining at that point, we decided to race anyway. We walked to the swim start and saw that a few other people had the same idea. We got into the water just as the rain started and just as expected Matt pulled away almost immediately, about 150 yards into it the Sheriff’s patrol boat with the scuba divers pulled up next to us and told us to get out of the water. Jim pretended not to hear the deputy and kept swimming, causing the boat to double back and the officer to yell.
“Get out of the water! I’m not going to tell you again.” screamed the deputy.
Jim could not resist.
“What?” he asked.
“Get the FUCK out of the water!”
Jim got the fuck out of the water.
Though the event was a failure on paper, it was a success in that it caused us to see where we needed to focus our efforts. We’d be ready for the next tri.
Mitchell's Run thru Rockford, Aug. 15 2009
Jim here for TBA. I had the brilliant idea of recapping all of our previous races so that we could track our progress and maybe look back in a year and be amazed that I prayed for death during a 5K.
The Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. We picked it as a replacement event for horseshit rainout of the Millennium triathlon. When I say "we picked it", I really mean Matt picked it. I am not a runner, and I had only run a 5K as part of a rather bush league triathlon I ran in Wisconsin.
Anyway, the Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. I was out drinking the night before and had a rather rude awakening when Matt called me at 7:30am to wake my drunk ass up. I of course told him that I was already up and ready to leave. I stumbled out of bed, put on some clothes, poured myself in the car and hit the road.
Got to Matt's place around 8am and we headed to the race. It was early, but it was clearly going to be a god-damned scorcher. It was a fairly large event (in hindsight, not really. But fuck it, keep reading), probably 1500 people, most wearing overstretched spandex and ass hugging waist packs. For a moment I thought I was in Wisconsin.
We talked a bit about our expectations for the race. Matt had some ridiculous "I want to beak 24 minutes" goal. With my fucked up knees and after a night of partying, I would have been quite satisfied with 35 minutes.
The race started in downtown Rockford, Michigan and the course snaked through residential streets. After the starting gun sounded, it took about two minutes for the field to disperse enough for me to start running. Matt took off like a banshee, deftly maneuvering around the hordes of power-walking fat women, eventually clocking a 22:22. God damn respectable.
I was in a world of hurt at the beginning of the race, likely due to too much vomiting (or not quite enough). I had considerable difficulty trying to get a sustainable pace going. People (fatties in spandex) seemed to randomly alter course and veer into my running lane quite a bit.
Got my second wind right about the time a woman sprayed me with a garden hose from her front lawn. Not being from the area and not knowing exactly where the finish line was, I also had difficulty trying to determine when I should start sprinting. I ended up starting my final sprint too late, but I was able to pass a few people right at the finish. Ended up clocking in at 26:54. It’s not just good. It’s good enough.
The Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. We picked it as a replacement event for horseshit rainout of the Millennium triathlon. When I say "we picked it", I really mean Matt picked it. I am not a runner, and I had only run a 5K as part of a rather bush league triathlon I ran in Wisconsin.
Anyway, the Mitchell run was a pain in the ass. I was out drinking the night before and had a rather rude awakening when Matt called me at 7:30am to wake my drunk ass up. I of course told him that I was already up and ready to leave. I stumbled out of bed, put on some clothes, poured myself in the car and hit the road.
Got to Matt's place around 8am and we headed to the race. It was early, but it was clearly going to be a god-damned scorcher. It was a fairly large event (in hindsight, not really. But fuck it, keep reading), probably 1500 people, most wearing overstretched spandex and ass hugging waist packs. For a moment I thought I was in Wisconsin.
We talked a bit about our expectations for the race. Matt had some ridiculous "I want to beak 24 minutes" goal. With my fucked up knees and after a night of partying, I would have been quite satisfied with 35 minutes.
The race started in downtown Rockford, Michigan and the course snaked through residential streets. After the starting gun sounded, it took about two minutes for the field to disperse enough for me to start running. Matt took off like a banshee, deftly maneuvering around the hordes of power-walking fat women, eventually clocking a 22:22. God damn respectable.
I was in a world of hurt at the beginning of the race, likely due to too much vomiting (or not quite enough). I had considerable difficulty trying to get a sustainable pace going. People (fatties in spandex) seemed to randomly alter course and veer into my running lane quite a bit.
Got my second wind right about the time a woman sprayed me with a garden hose from her front lawn. Not being from the area and not knowing exactly where the finish line was, I also had difficulty trying to determine when I should start sprinting. I ended up starting my final sprint too late, but I was able to pass a few people right at the finish. Ended up clocking in at 26:54. It’s not just good. It’s good enough.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Who is Team Bad Ass?
So here is the general idea. We are two drunks training to compete in an Ironman triathlon race in 2011.
That too general for you? Fine. Here's more. Our names are Matt and Jim. (We'll leave it in the first-person-plural for now because I am not sure who will be writing the majority of the blog entries.) We are both 25 years old and currently living in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Actually Matt lives in Rockford, Michigan but you really don't have to know the difference unless you were stalking him, and in that case you probably already knew that.
We became friends and training partners during the summer of 2009. For the most part we have no idea what we are doing: we don't have trainers, we don't have coaches, and we certainly don't have sponsors (AA or commercial). We started out small, we picked out a local triathlon to compete in, and then started training. To say that our training was minimal would be an understatement tantamount to calling herpes a “minor annoyance”.
Say what you will about the buddy system, it fucking works. On numerous occasions, one of us was feeling like shit, couldn't handle the distance, or wanted to quit. In any of these situations, there is nothing more motivational than having your friend call you a "pussy". We have come a long way from where we started, but we are not even close to our destination.
Our general plan (if you can call it that) is to run numerous smaller events, scattered throughout our two-year training schedule before the big one. The purpose of this blog is to record our progress, detail some of the individual events we participate in, share some of our twisted insights with you. Because it's not about the destination, it's about the journey.
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