My Heroes

Sunday morning’s Team in Training training was washed out, thanks to Irene.  This caused some triathlon training problems for me, since Sunday morning trainings are my most intense, so missing the training meant that I needed to figure out how to make up the time and intensity of my training elsewhere.  But, it is important that I take a step back and be thankful that my family and friends are safe and sound and, save for some water in my unfinished basement and downed tree limbs around my house, my home was spared and we have electricity!!!.  Here are a few notes from my weekend of Irene:

My Basement:  We use our unfinished basement for storage, since the basement takes on marginal amounts of water when there is a heavy rain.  My neighbor, whose backyard is a watery mess, decided that rather than put drainage in his back yard he should grade his backyard so that all his excess water drains into my yard (and basement), so heavy rains often result in water in my basement.  Spending money on a sump pump seems like a waste of money because we rarely get significant flooding in the basement and, in deference to the water that sometimes does inhabit the basement, we store most everything in our basement in plastic storage boxes.  In the end, we depend on a French drain mechanism to funnel out all the water that comes into our basement. 

At 11pm on Saturday night our basement was dry.  At around 2:30am, with the rain picking up steadily, I decided to see whether the basement was taking on water.  I assumed that there was some water, with the steady and heavy rains, but I had no idea how much.  As I headed downstairs to see whether my French drain was working, or not, it occurred to me that anyone depending on anything French to defend property or land should not be surprised when the French defense is quickly and completely overwhelmed and then requires US and British assistance.  Sure enough, my French drain was not up to the task of handling the water that Irene and my neighbor decided to dump into my basement.  Luckily, after I had to move a whole bunch of boxes and repositioned some non-waterproof items that were being threatened, the French drain eventually recovered and the only remnants of Irene is some dampness and a little moisture on the floor.  

New York Sports Club:  At around noon on Sunday, when the rain from Irene subsided, I called up New York Sports Club in New Rochelle to see if they might be opening up (I hoped and prayed!) in the afternoon, AFTER the brunt of the storm passed.  It turns out that they were open; they were open since   7am – yes, 7am, which is when the gym usually opens on Sunday!

If you weren’t tracking the storm, the epicenter and most powerful portion of Irene hit the New Rochelle area at around 9am, and some of the strongest bands of rain were pelting the area from 4am – 11am. 

Imagine waking up at 5am, looking outside, seeing a raging storm and thanking heavens that you are not an essential worker, like a policeman, fireman or EMT – someone who might have to go out in the mess that was Hurricane/Tropical Storm Irene.  After all, you work in a gym, and why should would anyone risk life and limb (people were killed during the storm from falling tree limbs, etc.) to open up a gym for some crazy fitness nuts… even fitness-crazies would understand, right?  So, you dutifully call in to NYSC of New Rochelle to confirm that the gym is closed and WTF!?!? – You find out that you need to get to work.  And no, you don’t get to wait until after the most dangerous part of the storm passes by; you need to get to work now, by 7am!  Otherwise, some tri-wacko isn’t going to get his workout in and may go from 5% body fat to 5.01% body fat that day. 

In any case, I got in a pretty decent workout (21 miles on the bike and a 3 mile run).  So, thank you to the brave employees of NYSC in New Rochelle.  Without your dedication to my health and fitness and your disregard for your own safety, I would have lost a most crucial day of training.

My Little Black Dress

As you may know, at the outset of my triathlon training I set three goals for myself.  The theme for these goals was the number “3” – fitting for a triathlon.  My target goals were (i) to raise $3,333.33 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (donate here); (ii) to lose 33 pounds; and (iii) to complete the triathlon in under 3 hours, 33 minutes and 33 seconds. 

Here is an update on my progress: I am just under $500 away from my $3,333.33 goal and I think that if I survive the open water swim (more on that in a future post), I will be able to complete the triathlon in under 3:33:33.  

Now you, as an intelligent individual, probably picked up on the fact that I didn’t mention where I am regarding my weight loss goal of 33 pounds.  Yeah… That goal…

So, it’s not all bad news; I have lost 19 pounds, to date, and I would like to think that I have added some muscle mass, which has mitigated some of my weight loss.  However, clearly I am not where I want to be regarding my weight loss, which leads me to my little black dress.

Before I go any further, I want to be perfectly clear: I DO NOT ACTUALLY OWN A LITTLE BLACK DRESS.  Despite having three degrees from New York University and spending years upon years in Greenwich Village, I have never worn a black dress of any kind (little, big or otherwise); I do not own a black dress; I will not own a black dress; I do not wish I owned one.  The “little black dress” is purely metaphorical in nature.

Now that I cleared that up, as you probably guessed, a “little black dress” represents a specific outfit, be it a wedding dress, a strapless gown, a bikini or an actual little black dress, which is too small on a buyer (usually a woman) when it is purchased.  The buyer (let’s go with “she”) then sets out a diet and exercise regimen and/or goal date when she will be able to fit into that dress/gown/outfit, and look fabulous in it.  You’ve seen this concept in commercials for “Special K” cereal and the like, where a woman looks in the mirror while holding up a dress that is too small for her against her body, as she shifts from side to side, dismayed by the fact that she can’t fit into the fabulous dress.  The shocking and amazing conclusion of the commercial has the previously-forlorn woman glowing as she magically fits into the previously-too-small dress, thanks to said-product-being-advertised.

Well, I have a “little black dress” that comes in the form of a cycling jersey.  If you have never seen or worn a cycling jersey, you should know that they are meant to be form fitting.  Extra jersey or t-shirt material can get caught in the wind, as you bicycle, creating a parachute-effect or “drag”, which means that a loose-fitting shirt or jersey can slows you down by “catching” the air that you move through.  Sure, there are some more forgiving/looser jerseys, but the real, hardcore jerseys have little margin for error (flab) when it comes to squeezing in to them.

I happen to have a size medium, baby blue cycling jersey, which was gifted to me (this is not one of the 11 jerseys that I won on Ebay, discussed in my post from last week).  To give you some background on my couture sizing (I love calling my decade-old, free t-shirts couture), prior to training for this triathlon I inhabited size large t-shirts and even size x-large t-shirts, on occasions (you know, because I have broad shoulders).  Thus, when I started training for this triathlon, I designated my baby blue cycling jersey as my own “little black dress.”  Four months ago, I clawed, crawled and battled my way into the jersey, just to see what it looked like on me, and I practically needed butter and oil to get myself out of it.  Today, well, I can get in and out of the jersey, but there are still a few too many bulges and tight spots to say that I am “in”.  But, I am getting there. 

Fitting into my little black dress is especially important to me because it represents more than just a weight loss number; it represents fitness, muscle tone and overall body shape.  It considers the muscle that I have added in addition to the weight that I have lost.  So on race day, even if I don’t hit that magic 33 pound goal, I will be a happy man, so long as I can really fit into my little black dress.

Just so you know, though, I am going to make up for any weight loss shortfalls on my part by lowering my 3:33:33 tri-time commitment.  Keep in mind, my time and my weight loss are completely under my control, so I take full responsibility for those commitments and impact me, personally.  My fundraising goals impact LLS and people fighting against blood cancers.  This is where you can make an impact.  Please join my blog readers (and those who have donated so that they do NOT have read my blog) who have already donated and ensure that I am able to hit my fundraising goal by donating here: http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/wchtri11/aspiraq31y.  Thank you for all of your support!

A Man Walking With His God

To donate to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society: http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/wchtri11/aspiraq31y

Below, is an email that I put together with the help of Robert Friedman, one of the captains of Skippy's Team, and the late Matt Fenster (Matt didn't help me outright, nor did he or does he know about this blog post, but I borrowed his wisdom, courage and words).  I hope that you find Matt's words inspiring and that the preface to his words does not diminish the power of what he wrote as the final blog post of his all-too-short life.

Here is my email to the Westchester Jarden Team In Training:

Hi all, 

While most of my emails and blog posts are on the humorous side of the world, I want to pass along some news and, I hope, inspiration for this Team In Training.  Unfortunately, a most incredible man, named Matt Fenster, passed away, yesterday, after a long, brave battle against AML.  A number people in the TNT group knew Matt and his children and have been impacted by his bravery and inspiring personality.  I hope that his bravery (see his email below) can serve to inspire our team. 

Many of us in our TNT group have put in a good amount of time and effort into improving our speed and technique in particular triathlon disciplines.  The results have really been amazing and we will all benefit from the longer-term health benefits of being in better shape, and the short-term benefits of faster tri times.   However, it is important to keep an eye on what is really important.  Matt Fenster's passing was a blinding reminder, to me, why we are all on TNT and not just running triathlons on our own; we are TNTers because we are raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. 
I hope that Matt's final blog post and Rob Friedman's introduction to Matt, below, serve to inspire all of us to take a few more minutes out of training and add a few more minutes into fundraising.  You never know which dollar will be the one that will prevent families and friends from experiencing the excruciating loss of a loved one.

Thank you for your time and for reading on.  - Avi

[Written by Rob Friedman]:
Matt Fenster was a father of four young children, a husband, a son, and a brother. He was a friend to many and worked endlessly to help his community in Riverdale, NY and beyond.  Matt was diagnosed with AML in April 2010.  Bone marrow drives were held in communities in the US and Israel, resulting in matches not just for Matt, but for 19 other people as well.  Matt's transplant was initially successful, but the disease returned and months ago he required a second transplant. In April of this year Matt and his family learned that the second transplant failed and that that there were no other treatment options under consideration.  Matt Fenster passed away yesterday.  

While I did not know Matt or his family, their tragedy is one we unfortunately have seen too often.  As a group, we have decided to do what we can to help prevent others from experiencing this kind of tragedy.  We have each committed to train for an Olympic distance triathlon and raise a minimum of $2,300 to fund research and find a cure for AML.  We are five-six weeks away from race day.  We all have work to do for training and fundraising. Now let's get it done!

For more inspiration and insight into the kind of person Matt was, please read through his words, below.
--------------
The following few paragraphs were written by Matt a few weeks ago--he asked Jen to send this out on Caring Bridge as his final post:

Hi, all.  Just to mix things up a bit, for what will probably be my last post, here are some thoughts from a man walking with his God.

Psalm 23, a psalm of David.

God is my shepherd, I shall not lack. [I never have lacked.]  In lush meadows He lays me down, beside tranquil waters He leads me.  [This year I have been able to feel a peace that I had not previously known -- in Hebrew, "nachat ruach." ]  He restores my soul [which I believe is eternal].  He leads me on paths of justice for His name's sake.  [I can only hope that I have followed these paths more often than I have shunned them.]  Though I walk in the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.  [Throughout this ordeal, I have never been afraid.  Perhaps it is because I am a person of faith?  Or maybe I am too simpleminded to recognize the magnitude of the loss that I am facing?]  Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. [I interpret God's "rod" and "staff" to be my family and friends, respectively.]  You prepare a table before me in view of my tormentors.  [I think about the tables in my life. . .  my childhood dinner table . . . breakfast before school with my kids at a cafe table . . . the seder table . . . the table from which I read the Torah in synagogue.]  You anointed my head with oil [I was brought up to believe I was special and could accomplish anything that I wanted], my cup overflows [a phrase I have uttered to myself each Friday night before the words of Kiddush].   May only goodness and kindness pursue me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of God for eternity. [Although I am saddened by what I will miss, the days with which I have been blessed have been full.]

A final thought: Walk with your God.  Identify what is most important to you, go after it, and when you have tasted success, be thankful for it.

Shalom.

Matt

Guessing?

Open water swims in the Long Island Sound can be a lot of fun.  The pre-swim excitement was palpable this week, as teammates struggled to put on their wetsuits and help each other zip up (wetsuit zippers are on the back of the wetsuit and, though there is a leash, it is much easier to get zip up with an assist).  Prep was quicker, now that most of us had a week under our belt; Pam cans were readily available and Body Glide sticks were everywhere. 

In addition to improving our dressing skills, we are also starting to adjust our palates from the mild, chlorine taste of the bourgeois swimming pool to the uber-sophisticated, hyper-salty taste of the Loung Island Sound.  I am considering adding a new routine to my training regimen to better to prepare for the OWS – I am going to pour myself a bowl of sea salt, say about a cereal bowl-full, and start eating it with a teaspoon.  I think a bowl a day is about right. 

While I complained a bit about the OWS in my blog last week, there are some advantages to being out in the open water.  One big advantage is that there is no end-wall, where you have to turn around every 25 yards.  Unless you are one of those awesome swimmers that can do flip turns, enabling you to keep your momentum while looking like Michael Phelps, stopping at the wall every 25 yards can be a real momentum-killer.  However, the wall does serve one important function – it helps you keep track of the distance that you’ve traversed.  So long as you can count (don’t discount the difficulty of counting; keeping track of laps is easier said than done, at least for some of us), all you need to do to figure out how far you’ve swam is to multiply the number of lengths that you swam by the length of the pool.  It’s pretty simple. 

The trouble with open water swimming is that you don’t always know the distance that you are swimming.  While some beaches have distance guides or guidelines posted, or distance information is common knowledge and readily passed along from swimmer to swimmer, many beaches do not offer up that information.  As a result,  the members of Team In Training were left guessing (FYI, for those that don’t know, the guy in the sunglasses in the youtube video is blind) as to how far we swam these past two weeks.  Luckily, thanks to one of our “Baywatch” lifeguards (you need to refer back to last week’s blog if you don’t get the reference) who I asked for some guidance as we were leaving the beach, I have a rough estimate of the distance of our swim.  TNTers, you can email me if you want to know more.

On a side note, I love Ebay.  In full disclosure, I do not own any Ebay stock, so this is not a pump-and-dump stock scheme… only an attorney would put this disclosure in a blog, right?  Every now and again you can find an absolute bargain on Ebay.  I happen to have been trolling Ebay for a cycling jersey.  Why?  Because even though I am a middling, at best, cyclist, I want to pretend that I am better than I really am and look the part.  Plus, some jerseys just look awesome.  However, I don’t have much money to spend on a cycling jersey (I am all out of triathlon gear money) and cycling jerseys can be expensive (I am at the point where anything over $20 is expensive).  I was tracking a Super Grover jersey, which, unfortunately, I could not afford ($51 for Super Grover ?!?!) and had to let go.  Luckily, I came across this auction, which I won.  I won eleven jerseys for $10, including shipping, from an Ebay newbie.  Honestly, when I won I was worried that he was going to send me only one jersey, or that the jerseys that he was going to send were going to be dirty, unraveling pieces of garbage.  Well, they arrived yesterday, and Teri Hatcher said it best, on Seinfeld, when she said http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BL2PicT9Kng. 

Blood in the Water

One thing I failed to mention in my last post about the open water swim was that Rye Beach provided us with the “Baywatch” treatment.  While David Hasselhoff was not there on Wednesday night, we had two lifeguards, in kayaks, with those big, long, red floatation devices, in the water with us throughout our swim.  Apparently, this is the first time that TNT has been given this treatment, and I would like to think that the reason this happened was because of my presence on the team.  Ok, maybe not.

Now, it is important to realize the logistics and dynamics of having a group of over 30 swimmers, of different swimming skill, in the water at the same time.  A swimming stroke is comprised of a flutter kick (or of violent, karate-esque kicks) and arm-strokes (or arm-flails, as the case may be).  When you have a lot of kicking and arm-flailing, it can be kind of dangerous.  Curious as to what a horde of people swimming at the same time in the same place looks like?  Have a look: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVyAa_0-vuM&hd=1. 

In order to prepare us for this reality, a couple of weeks ago, our coaches introduced us to a “full combat swimming” drill.  We were lined up in a row of four people, shoulder to shoulder, in a single swimming pool lane.  The row of the weakest swimmers was first in line and rows of stronger swimmers were set up behind them.  Now, there are six swim-lanes in the pool at SUNY Purchase, and the drill was to swim to the wall at the end of the each swim-lane, duck under the rope that divides the first lane from the second lane and then swim back to the end of the second lane, then duck under that rope… and you get the drill… all the way to the end of the sixth lane.  The weaker swimmers were given a head start and were ordered to “hold the line”, which means to avoid getting passed by stronger swimmers who were to follow them.  Between 10 to 20 seconds later, the next row of swimmers was released with orders to hold their line and to chase down the first row, and so it went for each row.  What ends up happening in the drill is that you need to nudge, elbow, claw, and sometimes fight your way in front of swimmers in your row (or drop back, and avoid the churning feet of those in front of you).  Then, as you approach the next wave of swimmers in front of you, you need to avoid the churning feet, find a little space, climb over the backs of swimmers or crawl through some small hole between swimmers, all while trying not to hurt or drown anybody else, or yourself (remember, we all know each other at TNT).  The drill was educational, rough and real, and it created some awkward moments, but the experience came in handy on Wednesday night.

So this past week, to add to the chaos, we learned first-hand that the Long Island Sound, in fact, DOES NOT have swim lanes.  Instead, we needed to sight, or look up in between strokes, in order to attempt to swim in a straight line.  The net result was organized-chaos.  We were told to swim back and forth between specified buoys, with outbound traffic on the left and inbound traffic on the right.  However, the lack of lanes and sighting (foggy goggles add to the difficulty of sighting, which is not easy to begin with) lead to a number of collisions or near-collisions.

Adding to the danger was the razor-wire that connects the buoy that run alongside the area where we were swimming.  To clarify, there is no razor-wire in the Long Island Sound (at least that I know of); there is a heavy duty rope connecting the buoys.  However, something magical happened in the LI Sound and that rope has become VERY sharp (and chemists, marine biologists or know-it-alls, please feel free to chime in and explain how this happens).  How do I know?  Well, while trying to avoid another swimmer, I veered to my left and brushed my fingers against the rope, cutting up the inside of my left ring finger with a 2 inch long cut (no stiches needed, but the cut is pretty deep).  I was not the only one who left the water cut up, either.  But hey, we are triathletes!  We are tough!  And we are fighting for a great cause – the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society!

So if you haven’t sponsored me yet, think about me, bloodied, bruised (did I add that I left the water a little dizzy because I was sweating buckets in my wetsuit, only I didn’t know it because I was enveloped in water) pushing myself to my limits to raise money to find a cure for blood cancer. 

If that doesn’t convince you to sponsor me… man… you are one tough nut to crack!

You can sponsor me simply by clicking here and using your credit card (hit the “Donate Now” button on the right side of the webpage): http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/wchtri11/aspiraq31y

Thank you for your support!

Baby Jellyfish

Yesterday was a very exciting day for TNT triathlon trainees.  Finally, after months of training in the SUNY Purchase pool, we were unleashed into the open waters of the Long Island Sound (sure, we were on a beach, surrounded by jetties, so the water was more like a salty swimming pool than “open water”, but let’s not kill the excitement too soon).  It was our first group swim in the Sound and 30+ TNTers gathered at Rye Beach, right next to Rye Playland, ready to trade in chlorine for salt and the other naturally (and not so naturally) occurring chemicals that make up the LI Sound.

I need to break into my writing flow here because there is a lot to write about, so I am going to chop this blog post into two, to ensure that this will be a blog post and not a novella…

…now, back to the beach.

We all got into our hot pink swim caps, and black and silver “Team In Training” wetsuits – yeah, we looked awesomely bizarre... and, there were onlookers.  Rye Beach, Rye Playland and The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (an awesome organization which you should support - and if you haven’t done so already and are reading this blog you SHOULD feel guilty about not supporting them and me, but you can click here to donate and support my triathlon training http://pages.teamintraining.org/wch/wchtri11/aspiraq31y), hooked the team up.  Rye Beach closes just after 6pm, but LLS arranged for us to have the water to ourselves from 6pm – 7pm.  So while families packed up from a beautiful day at the beach, we, the Pink & Black Invaders began to populate the beach, much to the amusement and photographing pleasure of beachgoers. 

In addition to the visual shock and awe that we provided viewers, we also provided viewers with high quality physical comedy.  Wetsuits are made of thick, tight-fitting material, and there is all sorts of pulling, yanking, grabbing, grunting and cursing that is involved in pulling on a wetsuit.  There are many amusing strategies that can be employed by individuals, including the shopping-bag-on-feet technique, the spray-Pam-all-over-your-body technique (yes, the cooking spray Pam), and the use of body glide (a lubricant) to help the process along.  If you are bored next Wednesday night and are looking for some physical comedy amusement, come on down to Rye Beach, then head over to Rye Playland for amusement park fun.

Another key to successful wetsuit-wearing is to use body glide on your neck, to reduce chafing.  So, as instructed I got body glide ALL over my lower neck… and I leaned that “the neck” means all the way your neck, up to your hairline.  I have a nice red rash to remind me just how high I need to get that body glide, next time. 

Eventually, we did get into the water, which is when I discovered my true love for my wetsuit.  Despite the difficulty of putting on a wetsuits, once you swim with one on, you will never want to swim without one because they act as a flotation device.  Simply go in to the water, dip your neckline under the water and fill up the wetsuit with water.  Just like that, you float on the water like you were in the Dead Sea.  No need to kick to keep your hips up in the water while swimming – your wetsuit does it for you!

The first order of business was to swim out to the first row of buoys in the water.  It was there where we were all informed that we shouldn’t worry about all the little jellyfish(!!!) that were in the water.  I hadn’t noticed them before, but there were lots and lots jellyfish, everywhere.  Good news, though!  It turns out that they are babyjellyfish and didn’t have stingers (yet)!  The truth is that they added a pretty cool dimension to the swim because every couple of stroke I would feel a jelly-like object bouncing off my hand or finger tips.  Should I feel guilty about knocking the heck out of these baby jellyfish?

I’ll pick up the rest of the swim in my next blog post, tomorrow (I hope!).

Singing in the Pain

For the sake of background, I need to explain what a hill-repeat is, and why they are part of my triathlon training.  As you may have guessed, a hill-repeat is when you bike up a hill, turn around, ride back to the bottom of the hill, and then bike right back up the hill, again (and again, and again).  Obviously, purpose of hill-repeats are inflicting pain upon the cyclist and preparing the cyclist to bicycle up hills that are on a specific course.  Team in Training participants do a lot of hill-repeats as part of our training because the cycling portion of the Jarden Westchester Triathlon course has a lot of sizeable hills, and doing hill-repeats prepares us to complete the course/complete the course at a quicker pace. 

For those of you who are wondering, it is MUCH harder to bicycle up a hill than it is to bicycle on level ground or downhill (I know, shocking).  My cycling experience has given me a lot of insight into why my car makes “that” noise, like it is straining, when I am driving up a steep hill.  As a result of my training, to be completely honest, I have come to empathize with my car when it starts making that sound.  I’ve gone as far as telling my car that we were almost at the top of the hill, that it was doing a great job and it would NOT have to do a hill repeat. 

There is one last thing you should know: Hill repeats hurt.  They hurt a lot.  I will spare you the boring reasons and details about gearing, torque, etc., and leave it at going up hills sucks and bicycling up the same hill multiple times sucks even more. 

I have tried multiple strategies for making hill repeats more bearable.  I’ve tried channeling my anger, using my hatred of “the hill” as my motivator.  Aside from the fact that tricking myself into hating a hill is tough, my anger usually runs out during repeat number two, and then I am usually mentally spent for the remainder of the repeats.  I’ve tried thinking about blog topics as I go up the hill, but that takes me to the topic of, “Ow, ow, ow…this hurts…ow, ow, ow…” every single time; to date, I have not gotten past that topic on a hill-repeat.  I’ve tried playing a song in my head, but I am not able to focus on that song, and it quickly is drowned out by the painful screams in my mind cause by the hill repeat.  So, until this past Sunday, I have been solution-less. 

Then it happened, on the way down “Claire’s Climb” (a large hill – thus the name “Claire’s Climb” – that is on the triathlon route) the serendipitous moment that I had dreamed of, occurred. 

While descending Claire’s Climb, I started singing out loud. 

I started singing Britney Spears’ “Hit me baby one more time” (in reference to the fact that I was doing going to climb Claire’s Climb, you guessed it, one more time).  I sang Britney’s bubble-gum-pop ditty in an angry, death-metal sort of tone.  I doubt anyone wanted to hear me sing, but I was more than happy to serenade myself!  As I turned around and made my way up the hill, I kept singing and, wouldn’t you know it, the hill was not nearly as miserable to climb as it was the last time.

By the time I hit the top of the hill I was over Britney, and wouldn’t you know it, what song popped into my head other than “That’s Amore.”  So the cyclists next to me (or passing me by) on the next repeat were regaled with, “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore…”  There is no rhyme or reason to the songs that I sing, there is no single genre that works best for me, and I don’t have a “go-to” song.  What I do know is that everyone else better put in ear plugs when they are next to me on the hills because I will be singing my way up those hills, one note at a time.