Refueling

Yesterday was epic.

I rode my bike 153 miles -- from Sioux City to Algona. From 7:30 am to 9:00 pm, on the first day of RAGBRAI XXXVIII, I managed to do the entire distance of the first two RAGBRAI days and covered over a third of the mileage for the week.

I started the day in Sioux City with my buddy Clint, his girlfriend and a bunch of their friends, and really wasn't sure how far I was going to ride.

The plan for me was to go at least 100 miles but I wasn't sure if I could do over 150.

I had a blast riding with Clint, Abbey, Bill D, Megan, John, Mike, Dan, Micky and Betsy. Team Groucho is a fun group and I'm really looking forward to riding with them again a couple times this week.

After about 40 miles with the group, I had to take off on my own so I could keep moving along for the day.

I ended up in Storm Lake at around 2:00 pm, fueled up with a gyro and lemonade and was ready to take off on my own, down the empty county roads --- when I got a flat tire.

My CO2 cartridge over-inflated my spare tube and I was forced to carry my bike for a 1/2 mile to get a new tube and find a pump.

Finally, at around 3:30 pm I was leaving Storm Lake and pedaling toward Varina, Pocahontas, Plover, West Bend, Whittemore and Algona.

The country roads that would be so busy in less than a day were empty. Just a few cars driving into Storm Lake but none of the hullabaloo of RAGBRAI -- just me, my bike and the open road.

I stopped at a four-way intersection to call my dad with an update, take in some energy gel and have a drink of Gatorade.

A truck drove by and the farmer yelled out to me, "Problems?"

"Nope," I replied, "just refueling."

As I looked at the route ahead, I kind of felt like Tom Hanks character at the end of Cast Away.

Four directions that I could turn but only one of them was laid for me. The route clearly marked.

I'm not sure why but I suddenly thought the farmer's question seemed like a bigger deal.

Like he was a character in a movie asking me if I had problems with life, not just a problem on the side of the road.

What direction was I going to take? Turn left? Turn right? Follow the path?

Of course, on this day the plan was to follow the marked route and I would do so all the way to Algona.

But part of me wondered when I was going to choose to not follow the route.

Maybe the problem has been that I've been following the route too closely.

I guess you could argue that riding 153 miles in one day isn't really following the path but when the guys you're riding with teach English in Poland and set up Ironman triathlons, you start to wonder if your life is a bit, well....blah.

I pushed on toward Algona and made short stops at a Casey's in Pocahontas for pizza and a Red Bull and just before Plover for a beer and to see the 100-foot slip n slide.

The last 33 miles were really tough but I got into Algona at 9 pm and met my dad at the McDonalds (we had arranged a meeting place at 7:30 pm).

I felt such a sense of accomplishment as we drove home. I had pushed myself to the limits and had come through the other end of the ride with one of those endorphin highs.

I might have had "problems" the day before but on this day I was refueling my body, my mind and my spirit with the invigorating, powerful, high-dosage version of life.

Any problems I had just vanished away for a while.

Enjoy the ride,
Damm

Pictures Worth a Thousand Smiles

I wrote this for a FCHS alumni newsletter -- thought I'd share it:

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I have absolutely no recollection of Dave Draheim taking pictures when I was in high school. I never had a class with him. To be honest, I never really knew what classes he taught – to me he was a friendly teacher who I occasionally passed by in the hallways of FCHS.

In the summer, I would see him playing golf with his good friend Mr. Benda. Seeing them on the golf course was a weekday ritual at Forest City Country Club. Benda would pull up with his Notre Dame-clad license plate. Draheim would throw his clubs on Benda’s golf cart, and they were off to enjoy another round of golf together.
Sadly, a few years after high school, I remember walking by Dave in Forest City and noticing how thin he was becoming. He would walk past Cooper Apartments with his groceries or some other items he had picked up from downtown Forest City and I’d always stop to say a quick hello if I was walking, or wave out the window if I was in my car.

I soon found out that Dave had been diagnosed with ALS and was no longer able to play golf.

Before long he needed to live at the Good Samaritan Center in order to receive the necessary care that his unfortunate disease required.

Maggie Tillman (FCHS Class of 2005) posted on her wall that Dave would love to have visitors so I decided to stop by the Good Sam to visit with Dave for a little while.
We sat in his room and watched “Everyday Italian” on the Food Network – we both agreed that Giada was the main reason we enjoyed the show so much! He had received some candy in the mail from a relative and offered to share it with me.

He asked about my mom and her plans for retirement. And he asked how my golf game was – I fibbed and said it was pretty good even though it’s really gone downhill.
After about 20 minutes, one of the caretakers came into the room and said Dave had dinner or social hour to get to. So I said my goodbye to Dave and told him I’d make sure my mom visited him in the next week or so.

I was shocked to hear that only days after my mom visited Dave he passed away. ALS is a cruel disease and it was tough to see him losing the ability to swallow and lacking much energy at all – in some ways, I was glad to know that he wasn’t suffering any longer.

Fast forward to the alumni basketball tournament this spring -- I heard that hundreds of photos were being posted in the high school for anyone to take. I was surprised to hear it, but Dave Draheim had taken hundreds, probably even thousands, of photographs during his tenure at Forest City High School.

I didn’t think too much of it until I walked into the high school on Sunday morning to play our first game there (our previous games had been at Waldorf).

I walked by picture after picture of smiling students. Some I knew and some I had no clue who they were. I searched for pictures of myself and my friends. I took a couple down from the wall in order to show all my classmates how young and skinny we had once been.

As I looked at more pictures, I couldn’t help but laugh as I began to remember all the classmates that I had long since forgotten. Foreign exchange students. Cute older girls. Kids who moved away during our time at FCHS.

And then I started noticing a pattern in the pictures. Almost without exception, the students in the pictures were smiling or laughing or being silly.

They didn’t look angry or mean or intimidating. They looked happy.

Dave Draheim was capturing thousands of happy moments in the hallways of Forest City High School. In some ways, I think he was capturing the true essence of all of us.

Sweethearts holding hands. Friends with arms around each other’s shoulders. Teachers laughing at a student making a goofy face. Teenagers having the time of their lives around fellow classmates.

I walked out of the high school that morning with a smile on my face.

I like to think that Dave Draheim was also smiling as he looked down at the smiles he had captured with his camera and the smiles he was still creating with all those photographs.

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A memorial scholarship has been created in Dave Draheim’s name. The smiles will continue into the future thanks to Dave Draheim’s legacy.

70.3

In November of 2008, I struggled to swim 2 lengths of the pool at the Forest City YMCA. I owned a hybrid bike but nothing close to a road or triathlon bike. I was probably about 185 pounds -- not super-overweight but not feeling too healthy either.

Over the last year and a half, though, I've completed two Olympic distance triathlons (.9-mile swim, 24-mile bike and 6.2-mile swim), two half-marathons and a bunch of other races -- including a 105-mile century bike ride.

I did not win any of these races and to be honest, some of my times weren't all that great. But I've finished every single distance that I've attempted. And I've improved.

And so far, that's been enough for me.

Over the winter of 2009-2010, I decided to sign up for the a Half Ironman -- a 1.2 mile open water swim followed by a 56 mile bike and a 13.1 mile half marathon run. This was the next distance to try after accomplishing the distance of the olympic triathlon.

I've always been interested in going longer distances and not necessarily concerned about getting faster in the shorter races. The excitement of a new distance and a new challenge has been more thrilling for me than the competitiveness of improving my times.

So after months of training (and a few hiccups in the schedule including the trip to Europe and a poor nutrition plan), I was heading to Lawrence, Kansas, to stay with my aunt and uncle for the two nights leading up to the 70.3 Ironman Kansas race.

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Race morning began at 4:45 am and I was setting up my transition areas in complete darkness along with almost 2,000 other participants. The field included Chrissie Wellington -- the top female triathlete in the world -- and Chris Lieto, one of the top American male triathletes.

The day before had been in the mid-90s but we lucked out on Sunday and saw temps in the 70s and 80s. With my T1 set up and my bike tires freshly inflated, I put on my wetsuit and went to watch the opening heats which included the professional triathletes.

My swim in Clinton Lake almost didn't happen. I was lingering about the starting area when I realized that my heat was about to begin and I had to run to start of the swim and get in the water so I could paddle over to the in-water starting line.

Arriving at the starting area just in time, the gun went off and the race was afoot!

I had a little panic as the swim started. My full-body wetsuit kept me very warm in the 78 degree water (just barely wetsuit legal -- if the water is too warm, wetsuits aren't allowed) and my mind began thinking about getting overheated.

Eventually I just told myself to "Shut up!" and I continued along with the swim. I'm not the greatest swimmer and probably under-trained for the swim. The 47-minute time for 1.2 miles was disappointing to me but pacing was important and I felt good as the bike portion of the race began.

My transition time was quick and my legs felt fresh when I got on the bike. The 56-mile bike seemed really fast as I stayed in the aero position and kept my head down and pedaled hard. I took in a good amount of gatorade, water and gels during my 3-hour bike ride (18 plus mph average).

As the bike concluded, my back ached and I was actually looking forward to running. The first mile of the run was tough because my legs were so stiff from the bike but I loosened them up after 10 minutes of running and after a quick #2 in the porta-potty following the first mile, I felt much better and was ready to roll!

I kept a nice 9 - 9.5 minute per mile pace for the first 6-7 miles. It really did start to get hot and I pushed lots of water at the frequent water/aid stations and also used the cold sponges to cool down.

I was really glad to see Hunter Callanan during the race (even though she was kicking my ass!) because it's nice to have some encouragement from a familiar face -- plus I ran past my mom, aunt, uncle and cousins and they gave me a loud cheer!

The final few miles were very difficult but I kept pushing along and finished the run portion in 2:16 -- concluding the race in just over 6:15.

I was hoping to break 6 hours but my main goal was to finish and I was very proud to complete such a long distance.

Lieto won the men's race in under 4 hours and Wellington won the women's race in just over 4. Amazing!

I was probably 10-15 pounds over my ideal racing weight, my swimming could improve and my running speed is still lacking -- but crossing the finish line was one of the more fulfilling feelings I've had in my life.

I stuffed my face with Chinese food and a couple of beers when I got back to my aunt and uncle's house -- after taking a shower, of course, and scrubbing all the salt off that was literally caked on my legs.

Only fours after the race, I was in my car heading back to Forest City so I could get to work on Monday.

I hope to finish a complete Ironman by the time that I'm 30 but the amount of training time will take a serious commitment from me and I'm not quite ready to make that commitment yet.

However, doing 70.3 miles was the highlight of my 2010 and I'm making some lifestyle changes that will allow me to continue to do these types of races at a faster speed.

I hope to do a marathon still in 2010 -- I haven't done a full marathon since 2005 (my first). I'm doing my first bike races this upcoming weekend. And many more fun days of running, biking and swimming lay ahead this summer and fall.

In the back of my head, I always know if I've worked hard for something or not. If I slack off, I don't achieve a true sense of fulfillment.

But if I work hard and dedicate myself to a task, I achieve a true sense of fulfillment and happiness.

Although I didn't win or even do my first Half Ironman very quickly, I truly feel like I achieved something special.

I pushed myself to a physical limit that was unforeseeable 18 months ago.

70.3 miles is now in the books. 140.6 is now in my sights.

Enjoy the ride (and the swim and the run),
Damm

Where you going? Barcelona.

Tapas meal with gazpacho and a nice glass of rioja.
The Magic Fountains of Barcelona.
A beach very close to my hostel on the north side of Barcelona in an area called Badelona.
The most popular beer in Spain is called Esperanza Damm -- this was a Limon version.
Barcelona won the Spanish soccer league my last night in the city -- crazy parties in the streets and a great atmosphere!

I arrived in Barcelona at 10:30 pm without a place to stay and with no idea how to get downtown.

Luckily, I've become pretty comfortable with the uncertainty of travel and I figured out how to get downtown for only 5 Euro and then managed to find a cheap hotel in the center of the city using an internet cafe as my guidebook.

After a very long day of traveling in a hungover state, I was extremely happy to be in my hotel room and to take a long, hot shower. After my shower, I went just outside the hotel to find a quick bite to eat and ended up at a Pakistani kabab stand where a transvestite hooker and his.....her.....friend were waiting for their food. I later heard that I was in one of the more dangerous parts of the city but it turned out that the Pakistani guys at the kebab stand were very nice and they hooked me up with a ton of food!

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The next morning I checked out of the hotel and made reservations at a hostel just outside the main center of Barcelona -- about a 15 minute ride via metro. I purchased a 15 Euro, 3-day metro pass and went out to the hostel.

The hostel was a great place to stay and for only 20 Euro per night (for a 4-bed mixed dorm-style room) was a really good deal. Comparatively, my room in downtown Barcelona was 65 Euro and that was considered cheap!

I dropped my stuff off, chatted up the very friend hostel staff and ventured back to the city center to do some sightseeing.

I should explain that I had plans to meet up with a friend who was teaching English in Belgium and her boyfriend but they unfortunately weren't able to make it and that's why I ended up having a 3-day stay in Barcelona by myself.

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Now that I had my home established for the 3-day weekend I was free to see Barcelona! The number one thing on my list to do was to eat at Tapas 24.

Tapas 24 is run by a chef who used to work for Ferran Adria at el bulli -- considered by many to be the best restaurant in the world. Carles Abellan worked for Adria for years and then went off to open Tapas 24 and Comerc 24 --- Comerc being the higher-end, molecular gastronomy, restaurant and Tapas 24 obviously being that tapas joint.

For those of you who don't know, tapas style eating is very common in Spain and it involves small plates of food -- typically with strong, bold flavors that might not be as enjoyable in large servings.

As a single, I was able to skip the long line and was seated at the end of the bar. My waitress was awesome! She explained the daily menu to me in English and recommended a few things. I really wish I had my camera with me that day because the food was presented beautifully!

I had a peach-mint juice that was incredible. The common starter was toasted bread rubbed with tomato and served with olive oil and pepper. I also enjoyed a couple of ham-cheese croquetas.

Then we got into the good stuff! I got a plate of chicken tandoori skewers with an amazing spicy, yogurt sauce that was just perfect. Perfect!

And then came the piece de resistance. The long, white plate of baby octopus. Probably 10-12 of them, all lined up in a row -- waiting to be eaten by me!

I have had and even have prepared baby octopus and it tends to be a little chewy and rubbery. Tapas 24 avoided this and grilled them to perfection. A little olive oil gave them a crunchy exterior and they were served with a bit of their own ink.

After the meal, I told my waitress, "Los sepionettes son fantasticos!" (the octopus was amazing!)

She smiled back and replied in English, "I know."

Truly amazing. Thanks for the recommendation, Mercedes!

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I made countless observations over the next few days and recounting all of them wouldn't really be worth the effort. Ultimately, I was kind of down in the dumps from time to time because I wasn't able to experience these incredible moments, places and food with friends or family. Either way, here are some things I experienced over the rest of the weekend:

Picasso Museum - Got in for free because it was a special day for the Barcelona museums. Truly understood after walking through Picasso's works in chronological order how talented he was. He mastered the techniques of the masters and then took art to a new level by looking for the essence of shapes. Art didn't have to be a replication of reality -- it could evoke a greater feeling and Picasso was a master of this!

MACBA - Modern Art museum in Barcelona. First floor was just okay in my opinion. The second floor, however, featured an incredible exhibit of a Canadian artist, Rodney Graham. This dude is truly a genius. He completely took me on an intellectual exercise in what art is. How an idea like infinity can be turned into music. Or how the very idea of light can be toyed with to create a canvas and then have that canvas disappear. He did a translation of a translation and found that the meaning of the book completely changed. He threw vodka bottles at gongs. He created a piece of music that won't play the same loop for over a billion years. Ask me about this guy sometime and I'll talk your ear off!

Magic Fountains of Barcelona - This is like the Bellagio fountains being tied to the Capital Building in Washington DC. Truly an incredible evening watching the fountains, people watching and enjoying a couple beers in a fantastical place. Wish you could have been there with me!

Las Ramblas - This street is home to street performers, little shops, restaurants, theatres and much more. It's really the heart of Barcelona and I had a blast watching some of the amazing street performers. A must do if you visit Barcelona.

La Bocqueria Market - Just off Las Ramblas, is La Bocqueria. This market has incredible, fresh food. Everything from jamon to seafood to fruits. The best part is that a couple places buy up the fresh ingredients and will prepare them for you in a relatively cheap setting. I ate at a vendors grill in the back of the market and had my favorite dish of the trip -- razor clams! They were long clams, grilled to perfection and served with olive oil and just a little lemon juice. I sat next to a nice German couple and we talked for a while as we enjoyed our fresh seafood and white wine. These razor clams might have been the best food I've ever had!

The Beaches - I went for a couple runs over the weekend, preparing for my half-Ironman that would occur on June 6, and ran down the coast each time. The beaches of Barcelona were incredible. And they happened to be topless. Let's just say I ran about 4 miles before I realized that I should probably turn around and head back at some point. Beautiful, beautiful women in Spain!

La Sagrada Familia - Gaudi is the most famous Spanish architect and his unfinished La Sagrada Familia church is a truly modern approach to building a cathedral. Many people don't like it but I think it's a new attempt at creating something beautiful. The Spanish are constantly looking to create something new and La Sagrada Familia is a great attempt at new architecture!

FC Barcelona - My last night in Barcelona was the championship game for FC Barcelona -- the local soccer team. If they won the match, they were champions of La Liga. I nearly ended up with a ticket from a French group that was staying at my hostel but couldn't find them at the stadium to purchase the ticket. At least it saved me 60 Euro by not going, but it would have been fun. I ended up watching the game at a bar outside the stadium and FC Barcelona scored 4 goals and easily won the game. It was a blast wearing my FC Barcelona shirt and cheering with the locals as the home team won the Spanish premier league! As the game ended, I took the metro back to Las Ramblas and watched the youth of Barcelona go crazy! It was an amazing scene as the streets filled and everyone joined together in songs, cheering and a celebratory concert in La Plaza Catalunya.

My parting thoughts about Spain are kind of academic. I think Italians are clinging to an old world that has, in reality, passed them by. They are no longer a major player on the world stage but they were once upon a time.

The Spanish, however, feel reborn following the repressive dictatorship of Franco. From Dali to Gaudi to Ferran Adria to Pedro Almodovar to Joan Miro, the Spanish are looking to the future and asking....what's important? What does life have in store for us that can be beautiful?

I felt privileged to experience a culture that truly thinks outside the box. That questions authority and the ways of the past. That looks for truth in the simplest of foods yet analyzes the most complex ideas of the human mind in paintings and art.

As I traveled home, I looked forward to seeing friends and family and to a certain extent, getting back into the routine of daily life. But I also returned with a rebellious attitude that I continue to carry with me and hope will never leave.

Spain reminded me to live with passion and energy. To enjoy food and art and activity and travel and people. To throw "what's normal" out the window and ask myself, "What do I want in life?"

We all arrive at this place called life and we don't really have a place to stay. But we make do. We make sure we survive. And when we're at our best, we make sure we live -- and that we live and love passionately. Just like the Spanish.

Enjoy the ride,
Damm