TOMRV 2011 - A Recap

From left, Luke, me, Charlie, Ann and Mark. Great group for TOMRV 2011! It was awesome that they let me tag along for the ride.

Tracee, Dan, baby Clare and I rode up the 4th St. Elevator in Dubuque for an amazing view of the river and downtown Dubuque.

The Wall on TOMRV 2011. One of the steepest climbs on the route with about 11% grade at one point.

Crap, am I really in this bad of shape? I asked myself as I fell behind the group after only hanging on for a few miles and only providing one effort at the front.

It was Wednesday and I riding with the North Iowa Spin group on a ride from Clear Lake to Joice. The Saturday before I had run the Dam to Dam 20K. I rested on Sunday and did some short workouts on Monday and Tuesday but on Wednesday I felt like I was back to having fresh legs and ready to ride hard with the A+ group.

It only took 6 or 7 miles to realize that I still had tired legs, that I was still out of shape from a lazy winter and spring, and that my countless bad nutritional decisions were not doing me any favors.

What did you expect, Josh? That you were going to ride like you did in 2010 without any training?

I drove home that evening frustrated with myself but also with a renewed sense of commitment.

The following things do NOT get one's legs into cycling shape:

• 
  

  Drinking beer



• 
  

  Watching cycling on Versus



• 
  

  Blogging about getting back into shape



• 
  

  Reading "Triathlete" magazine



• 
  

  Talking about my "goals" to do "epic" races and efforts

Realizing this, I stopped being angry with myself and decided to get my ass in gear.
---

After work on Friday night, I took off for Preston, Iowa, to ride the shorter version of TOMRV (Tour of Mississippi River Valley). I got into Preston around 10 pm and met the nice family I'd be staying with.

Two weeks prior, my friend Abbey had said that her dad, Mark, was riding TOMRV and that I should join their group for the 2-day ride. So I did.

In Preston, we stayed at the house of Mark's sister and I was able to meet the group I'd be riding with - Charlie & Ann, Liz, Luke and of course, Mark.

On Saturday we got up at 6, had a great breakfast, and were registered and on the road by about 7:30.

It was slightly chilly that morning and unfortunately there was a 10 mph headwind most of the day but we avoided rain and had relatively nice weather (at least it wasn't 90 degrees!).

The first third of the ride was fairly flat and Mark and I pushed the pace for a while, and we zipped through the first section of the day. Overall, we would end up going about 70 miles on Saturday.

The rest of the day was all about the hills. Climbs like I've never been on before, having lived in north central Iowa all of my life and never having ventured to any mountain ranges with my bike.

We climbed The Blowtorch, The Wall and many other hills on the day. The Wall was the most difficult effort with the grade maxing out around 11 or 12%. After The Wall, my legs were shot. We had about 15 miles left to ride but I was starting to bonk and the legs were filling up with lactic acid.

I'm just over 185 lbs. right now and I could definitely tell that the added winter weight was making these tough climbs even tougher.

Mark was the gold star climber of the group while the rest of us struggled our way up those hills. The easiest gears on our bikes weren't easy enough!

We finished out the day with our bodies still intact but our legs aching.

I rode (uphill of course) to my friends house in Dubuque for a much needed rest. It was great to meet Dan & Tracee's 2.5 week-old daughter, Clare, and I held her for about an hour without her crying at all - #babiesloveme. It sure is cool to hold a newborn baby and look at the funny faces they make as they coo and smile and sleep.

I had a few beers after showering at their house and then we went on a short tour of Dubuque which included a ride up the 4th St. Elevator cable car for a great view of Dubuque and the Mississippi River.

After grilling out, Dan and I ventured out to a couple bars for a couple beers and by 10 pm we were back to their house and I was fast asleep.
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I woke up Sunday with sore legs and did not enjoy getting back on the bike saddle - #soreass.

But once we got going again, I felt decent enough.

Mark and I started the second day's ride at 6:20 am and rode through the fog and the Mines of Spain State Park just outside of Dubuque. If you haven't been there before, it is definitely worth the trip.

As we left the Mines of Spain, we started ascending a 3 mile, gradual climb that kept going and going and going. I have a much greater appreciation for the professonial cyclists who climb the mountains in the Tour de France -- the hills of the Mississippi River Valley kicked my ass and they don't even come close to the difficulty of the Alps or the Pyrennes. Not close by a long shot!

For me, though, these were the two toughest days of climbing that I've ever done. And as we climbed up Upchuck Hill and completed the final three hills leading into Preston, I realized that I need to start doing some hill repeats at Pilot Knob again. And by "some" I mean like 20 in a row.

After finishing the short, hilly, 42-mile second day, I realized the last two days were exactly what I needed.

I didn't write about riding or watch cycling on TV. I rode. I climbed. I pushed myself.

TOMRV was a two-day slap in the face. It was humbling to ride up the many hills and have my legs hurt like hell.

In high school I gave one of two graduation speeches to my classmates, and I referenced Teddy Roosevelt's "Man in the Arena" speech:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how
the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them
better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena,
whose face in marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes up short again and again, because there is no effort
without error and shortcoming; but who
does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows
great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends
himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least
fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

I didn't power up the hills...but I pushed myself. I put my ego back where it belongs. I lived life. I felt alive. I rode up the steep hills of the Mississippi River Valley so I could triumphantly ride down them.

I'm not going to end this blog with any predictions about what I'll do next.

I'll just say that it feels good to be back in the arena.

Enjoy the ride (and the climbs),
Damm

This is Life

"This is life," Eva said to me as we looked up at the town of Lamole.

The house of Mona Lisa in the distance. Her vineyards in the foreground. A glass of Chianti Classico in my hand. Mud on my legs from the dirt road leading up to the house. My bicycle leaning against the ancient Tuscan home.

My life has stories before that moment and it will have more in the future.

But on a Saturday afternoon in the valley below Lamole, Italy, there was life.

And it was beautiful.

---

My second trip to Europe began on a Thursday and as if to prepare me for my adventures ahead, I ended up at a sushi bar in the Philadelphia airport talking to a Coast Guard officer who had just returned from a two-month trip to Europe. Over a couple Sapporos and a bento box for myself, we shared itineraries and he gave me some great tips about what to check out in Barcelona.

His trip to Barcelona with a buddy allowed them to meet a French girl who would take them to her home on the French Riviera where they would spend a few days enjoying the good life.

In some ways, I wasn't as fortunate during my trip but in other ways I was about to have a great vacation. Thanks Will, for the great advice regarding Barcelona.

Next time I'll remember to ask where to find the rich French girls.

---

I had a long layover in the Philly airport so I went to have another drink at Vino Volo (a really nice little wine, food shop) and enjoyed a class of Spanish wine.

On the 7 plus hour flight to Europe, I watched "Invictus" and it was really good. In Frankfurt, I missed my connecting flight but the ladies at the transfer desk in Germany were very nice and I took a nap in the airport while I waited for the next flight 4 hours later. Lufthansa is now my favorite airline. My flight from Frankfurt (where I did indeed have a Frankfurter!) to Florence included a sandwich, free wine and a nice selection of newspapers. The pilot exclaimed "Andiamo" and we were off.

---

Getting into Florence I realize how excited I am to be in Europe. I chat with the young, attractive female cab driver on the way to the hotel in Florence and discover that the restaurant I've picked out for the night is indeed a really good local restaurant -- Osteria del Cinghiale Bianco.

In Florence, I'm meeting my dad and the group of Waldorf students on the Communication Dept. trip. They aren't at the hotel when I get in, so I go out for a 4-mile run through Florence. It's raining but I could care less.

How amazing is it to turn a corner and just happen upon the Great Duomo of Florence?

---

I meet my dad and some of the group at the hotel. We take off for the restaurant. The meal was fantastic! Even though we have reservations, we have to wait for a few minutes but the owner brings out white wine for us while we wait.

My meal includes house Chianti wine, Lardo di Colonatta (indescribably tasty!), carpaccio with arugula and parmesan, cinghiale con polenta (wild boar in an amazing, rustic tomato sauce) and then dessert. For dessert we all shared tiramisu, grappe and panna cotta with caramel sauce. A beer at a British pub next to the Duomo and then it was bedtime. I slept hard. Really hard. I fell asleep thinking about how awesome it feels to be in a foreign country on the first day of the trip. Such adventure ahead. So many people to meet. So many new foods to try.

The trips are never what you expect but they are always full of expectations. My expectations were high for Saturday but they were about to be surpassed!

---

On Saturday I woke up at about 9:30 am and headed down the street to rent my road bike for the day. It was an older road bike but nice. Only cost me 35 Euro to rent it for the whole day and that included helmet and lock as well (I just had to bring my own bike shoes). I also bought a Camelback pack that holds 2L of water and allowed me to bring my camera along for the day -- it was expensive but worth it -- I'll definitely use it a lot in the future.

The guys at the bike shop were great and gave me a route for the day of about 60 miles.

Maps in hand. My camera and water in my backpack. Shades and helmet on. "Andiamo!"

After navigating through the tiny streets of Florence (more than once I had to place my hand on the car to my side in order to avoid running my bike into the vehicle!) and crossing the bridge to the west of Ponte Vecchio, I was climbing up a steep hill and leaving the city of Florence.

I had so much energy that I just zipped up the hill. I ended up taking a different turn than I had planned on but ended up in the tiny little town of Impruneta within a few kilometers. I picked up a Red Bull and banana, and got some good directions from the shop owner. On a side note, cycling is huge in Italy and everyone gives you a lot more respect when you have a bike jersey on -- it's like you've joined their culture for a day!

As I ride south on the hilly, winding streets, I started to notice a few Lamborghinis and Ferraris traveling north. A few became a dozen and pretty soon I noticed that people were on the sides of the road watching the cars go by. I stopped and asked what was going on.

A nice Italian gentleman and his kid told me that the day was part of a 4-day tour from Southern to Northern Italy for Italian sports cars -- known as Mille Miglia.

My casual bike ride through Tuscany suddenly had become a nerve-wracking ride with hundreds of Italian sports cars.

Mille Miglia used to be a race but has been a "tour" ever since 1957. Too many deaths in the race turned the race into a tour. But many of the drivers still go over 100 mph and pass up steep hills and around corners.

I had trouble deciding when I should stop and get a class of Chianti Classico wine -- this wine can only be bottled in the area between Florence and Siena.

For some reason I just kept riding and riding, not wanting to stop. I got rained on a little and was starting to get a little tired of the craziness on the road with all the sports cars -- so I took a turn onto a dirt road that looked interesting and rode for a few miles in solitude.

Mud was splattering my legs and the quiet was deafening but I soon came across a sign for a Chianti Classico winery and decided to check it out.

I climbed up a small hill to the old stone house and looked around for the owner or people. At first I couldn't find anyone, just two scrubby looking dogs taking a nap. Too lazy to get up for the visitor in the cycling jersey.

Eventually Eva came out of her office and introduced herself. She and her husband had purchased the small winery a few years ago -- they were preparing a meal for a group of cyclists coming to stay a few hours later.

Eva is Swedish but has been living in Italy for 20 years with her husband. She was awesome and the winery was beautiful. She poured me a glass of the 2006 Chianti Classico and gave me a cold bottle of water. I walked around the winery with her and got a tour of their home, which is a small bed and breakfast.

Poggio Asciutto is a place I will certainly visit again!

---

Eva encouraged me to ride 7km to the town of Lamole. So I did.

Holy shit! It was a really tough climb with grades up to 9% and just a non-stop climb. By the time I reached Ristoro di Lamole, I was exhausted. I took a seat outside and the very friendly Italian waitress brought me a glass of Chianti, some water and a great cheese and prosciutto sandwich. She even paired a mild cheese with a tasty prosciutto that worked perfectly with the fresh bread.

I had an espresso for a little caffeine jolt and I was heading back to Florence after the 30 minute rest in Lamole.

The descent from Lamole was the most fun I've ever had on a bicycle. I was going anywhere from 25 to 40 mph and flying around narrow corners -- nearly passing the few cars in front of me at times.

I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't stop thinking that surely this day had been one of the best days in my life.

I had yet to speak to an American all day. It had just been myself and the kind people of Tuscany. The wine and food had been outstanding. The climb to Lamole exhausting. The scenery gorgeous.

At one point in the descent, overtaken with emotion and happiness, I just let out a loud "Wooooooo!" -- like a kid going down a slide.

This was life.

.....to be continued.....

A Tale of Two Triathlons

On the bike at Trinona -- my first Olympic distance triathlon.



Beginning the run at Trinona.



Finishing in 3:09 at Trinona. I was hoping to break 3 hours but a bad T1, an inadequate bike and a head cold kept me from accomplishing my goal.



Starting to take off my wetsuit following the swim at the Rochester Triathlon.



Dismounting from my new bike at Rochester (lighter, clipless pedals and aero bars make a huge difference!).



Finishing at Rochester in 2:47 - about 22 minutes faster than my time at Trinona. I felt great and couldn't be happier with my finish!

Monday, June 29 -- I never thought I'd feel like this after doing two Olympic triathlons in two weeks, but I'm sad today.

The challenge is done. The races are over. I trained for months and yesterday I achieved my goal of beating the clock and a certain someone else.

During the run I felt incredible, I was running sub 8-minute miles over the last two miles and I was truly happy for myself to come in at 2:47 when I was really only hoping to break 3 hours.

I discovered something yesterday. No matter how much I try to "win" a race by beating someone else, the only time I'll ever be happy in life is when I accomplish goals that I set for myself.

At TRINONA on June 14, I completed my first Olympic triathlon and it felt great. I didn't break 3 hours but the days leading up to the race I had a cold with achy muscles and I don't think I felt up to par during the race.

Two weeks later at Rochester, I felt better and I had a new bike with clipless pedals and aero bars (both of which make a huge difference!).

Rochester was the culmination of months of training and what I hope is the end to a very difficult time in my life.

A 2:47 triathlon surprised me -- I didn't think I was capable of that. Here is a breakdown of my race:

SWIM - 29:43 (59.43 seconds per 50 meters)
T1 - 3:29
BIKE - 1:20:42 (18.48 mph average)
T2 - 1:39
RUN - 52:09 (8:24 per mile average)
TOTAL - 2:47:40

Compared to TRINONA, I swam faster, transitioned faster, biked a lot faster and then even ran faster. It was a complete success.

But like I said earlier, now there's a letdown.

I'm planning on doing a half Ironman in Lawrence, Kansas, next summer. I hope to do a full marathon this fall. On Saturday, I'm doing a bike-run relay race with a friend. And later this summer I plan on doing a 100-mile bike ride.

All of these things just haven't cheered me up yet. Yesterday's triathlon was such a major milestone for me that I'm left wondering what's next.

How do I push myself in new ways? Where will I end up going for that sense of adventure? Who is going to join me for the journey?

The Damm Journey has been pretty exciting lately. Triathlons, weekends in Des Moines/Mankato/Minneapolis/Okoboji, golf tournaments.

But more than ever I'm filled with this sense of wanderlust. Wanting to meet new people and discover new things. Overcome new obstacles and greater distances.

Indeed, it has been the best of times and the worst of times.

What will the next tale be?

One of greatness or one of mediocrity.

One of success or one of failure.

One of happiness or one of sadness.

More than likely, all of these things will merge together and form the rest of my life (all of our lives for that matter).

And we'll be left to simply...

Enjoy the ride,
Damm