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.

Well, Hello, Neighbor!

Think of the worst person that you could embarrass yourself in front of – let’s go through the most common categories:

Family: They love you (you hope) and will (hopefully) forget the incident.  Even if they don’t, the truth is that you probably have spent so much time around your family that you’ve embarrassed yourself more than once in front of them, and they have probably embarrassed themselves in front of you.  All-in-all, while it’s never fun to embarrass yourself, a family member is not too bad of a person to have as a witness (see, my daughters watching walking down the street with one shoe on and one shoe off, a few weeks ago).

Strangers: Sure, it’s no fun to make a fool out of yourself in front of a total stranger, but unless the act is recorded on video and posted on YouTube, it isn’t that bad.  You probably gave the other person a good laugh, and you will never see them again.  Making a fool of yourself in front of a stranger might even be preferable to making a fool of yourself in front of friends or family, since the likelihood of future encounters with a stranger is minimal.

Friends: This analysis is similar to that of family, though this analysis only applies to embarrassing situations that occur when you are no longer in school.  If you are in school, making a fool in front of friends or schoolmates is the worst type of embarrassment there is (as a sophomore in high school, I once threw up in school three times in the course of a day; I threw up once in front of the freshman class, once for the juniors and once for the seniors – finally the nurse sent me home, you know, because there were no more grades to throw up in front of).  However, once you are out of school your friends, know you, rib you and forgive you.  You will probably have some dirt on them and they know you well enough not to judge you on that one specific occasion.

Co-workers / neighbors / business associates / people who you casualty encounter on a day to day basis: I think this is the worst group to embarrass yourself in front of because you have such little time and so few interactions with the other party, during which time the other person will form his/her opinion of you.  As a result, big picture assumptions and decisions are made by those people based on short and infrequent interactions.  Worse yet, forced, repeated interactions with the other party require you to face the embarrassing moment over and over again.  Of course, there is also the danger of getting labeled, for ease of recollection and identification - who wants to remember or attempt to pronounce the name “Avi”, when they can just call me something like “coffee stain guy”?

I recognize that my analysis might be flawed, lack categories and overlooks some important points - your comments and thoughts are appreciated.  But, let’s move on to why I bring this issue up.

After an hour-long bike ride, I turned down my block to see my next door neighbor bringing out his recyclables to the curb (it was paper/cardboard day in New Rochelle, today).  I have had some nice discussions with this particular neighbor, who is a very nice gentleman, and we get along well.  As you know, I have been working on my “unclipping skills” and I have actually had the hubris to pass along tips to others, now that I am thought I was an expert.  However, it is clear that I have not moved up to the advanced level of unclipping.

I steered my bike over to the curb where my neighbor was standing, with my left foot unclipped, and I put my left foot down to stabilize the bike.  My neighbor extended his right hand, and I began to extend my right hand to shake his hand, as I started to unclip my right foot.  He said, “Hey, how are you.”  I said, “I am doing well, it’s great to see you,” as my hand reached half-extension.  Then I looked as my neighbor and calmly said, “I am about to fall.”  My neighbor watched, dumbstruck, as my almost-handshake turned into me keeling over on my bike, to my right, and me torqueing my body so I landed on my hands in a quasi-side push up (thankfully, my left foot was unclipped, so I could adjust).  What I learned at that moment was that my neighbor has a great lawn with the softest grass – I knew it looked great before today, but now I know it feels great too.  I then proceeded to unclip my right foot, stand up and began to explain to my neighbor why I made a complete idiot out of myself.

I have a feeling that the next time I wave hello to my neighbor, he’ll be thinking “Hey, tip-over guy!”, or something like that…  I can’t think of a nickname, but if you can, please let me know.  I might just get something for the person who comes up with the best nickname.

Alarm Bells Are Ringing

On Sunday, a teammate of mine shlepped me around the entire 25 mile triathlon bicycle course.  One hour and forty minutes later, I realized that I am in more trouble than I thought.  Apparently, the additional 6 miles, which I previously didn’t ride last week (not to mention the sweltering heat), took me over the edge.  I ran 3.1 miles last week after a 19 mile bike ride; this week, I made it the 31 steps up my driveway, barely.  I am pretty sure that I slowed my teammate down by a solid five to ten minutes over the course of the ride.

Yesterday, I was still recovering from my ride in the morning, but I headed to the gym @ 8:30pm for a swim, only to realize when I got there that I forgot to take my asthma medication.  While you may remember that I had previously biked and ran without taking asthma meds, I thought better of spending too muchtime under water without sufficient oxygen-enhancing assistance (I also missed getting to Costco and Home Depot before they closed because of my bumbling stupidity). 

Last night, I decided to make up for everything.  I set my alarm on my cell phone for 5:30am, ready to go out to bike and run (yeah!).  I failed to realize that my handy dandy wall charger was unplugged, so though my phone was plugged in, the charger was not.  My alarm never went off and I slept to 6:45am (which, I must admit, was sort of a pleasant surprise).

I ate cheesecake this weekend (small piece), had half a slice of pizza, had a small smoothie this morning… I am falling off the boat in not so small steps.  Alarm bells are starting to ring, especially because I have put 3 pounds back on (down 16 pounds, versus 19 pounds – and every pound counts when you are going up what seems like Mount Everest, which happens to be a tiny hill to most everyone else).  Oh yes, I failed to mention that my brake pads on my bike are doing some funny things...

Alarm bells are ringing everywhere…

But, there is good news.  Tomorrow, a team mentor has organized a bike ride at 5:50am (that is 20 minutes earlier than usual) and we will be doing many hill repeats (read: masochism in one of its highest forms).  I will go swimming tonight and will remember to take my meds, first.

Then, there is the best news of all.  Some of you may be aware that the Bar Exam is going on today and I am not taking it.  Clearly, things could be worse (I could be in the Javits Center with thousands of hyper-stressed lawyers-to-be taking the first of at least two days of 8-hour-long exams).  Just thinking about it makes me feel a lot better (schadenfreude anyone?).  Things are looking up already; now I just need to make sure that my alarm is set to go off at 5:15am and that I actually plug my cellphone charger in tonight.

Alarm Bells Are Ringing

On Sunday, a teammate of mine shlepped me around the entire 25 mile triathlon bicycle course.  One hour and forty minutes later, I realized that I am in more trouble than I thought.  Apparently, the additional 6 miles, which I previously didn’t ride last week (not to mention the sweltering heat), took me over the edge.  I ran 3.1 miles last week after a 19 mile bike ride; this week, I made it the 31 steps up my driveway, barely.  I am pretty sure that I slowed my teammate down by a solid five to ten minutes over the course of the ride.


Yesterday, I was still recovering from my ride in the morning, but I headed to the gym @ 8:30pm for a swim, only to realize when I got there that I forgot to take my asthma medication.  While you may remember that I had previously biked and ran without taking asthma meds, I thought better of spending too muchtime under water without sufficient oxygen-enhancing assistance (I also missed getting to Costco and Home Depot before they closed because of my bumbling stupidity). 


Last night, I decided to make up for everything.  I set my alarm on my cell phone for 5:30am, ready to go out to bike and run (yeah!).  I failed to realize that my handy dandy wall charger was unplugged, so though my phone was plugged in, the charger was not.  My alarm never went off and I slept to 6:45am (which, I must admit, was sort of a pleasant surprise).


I ate cheesecake this weekend (small piece), had half a slice of pizza, had a small smoothie this morning… I am falling off the boat in not so small steps.  Alarm bells are starting to ring, especially because I have put 3 pounds back on (down 16 pounds, versus 19 pounds – and every pound counts when you are going up what seems like Mount Everest, which happens to be a tiny hill to most everyone else).  Oh yes, I failed to mention that my brake pads on my bike are doing some funny things...


Alarm bells are ringing everywhere…


But, there is good news.  Tomorrow, a team mentor has organized a bike ride at 5:50am (that is 20 minutes earlier than usual) and we will be doing many hill repeats (read: masochism in one of its highest forms).  I will go swimming tonight and will remember to take my meds, first.


Then, there is the best news of all.  Some of you may be aware that the Bar Exam is going on today and I am not taking it.  Clearly, things could be worse (I could be in the Javits Center with thousands of hyper-stressed lawyers-to-be taking the first of at least two days of 8-hour-long exams).  Just thinking about it makes me feel a lot better (schadenfreude anyone?).  Things are looking up already; now I just need to make sure that my alarm is set to go off at 5:15am and that I actually plug it in tonight.

Rough Riding

Rough Riding

Although my bike ride this morning was only an hour long, I had a rough ride.  Physically, mentally and emotionally, it was just rough all around.

I returned from a four-day-long business trip to Bah-stahn (otherwise known as Boston).  Since I am not a Yankees fan, I can say that it happens to be a beautiful city; well, at least the five square block radius around my hotel was beautiful.  I was a good boy and made sure to train for an hour a day, while I was away, doing running and weight workouts.  But, for some reason, when I got on my bike this morning, things didn’t click physically.

While I have the luxury of having a great group of training partners, this morning, I spent my first twenty minutes of my ride riding alone, which was fine.  The alone time gave me time to think and reflect upon the fact that this weekend is the one year anniversary of the passing of a very good friend of mine.  It seems like a long time ago and yet it seems like no time has passed since I last saw my good friend.  I thought about the fact that my friend battled cancer for a year, in a fashion that I could only describe as godly.  He never complained, always smiled and joked around; he worked through chemo treatments and somehow looked like he was doing better than everyone else, despite the realities of his situation.  He was a mountain of a man—physically, mentally and emotionally—and he whipped cancer, getting a clean bill of health, with nary a complaint and without an ounce of self-pity.  Unfortunately, a tragic accident took him from us all too early.

I thought about the fact that when I wake up at 5:30am to train, I sometimes wonder whether I should just avoid the pain and struggle of training and go back to bed.  I thought about the fact that cancer victims, like my friend, have no choice but to wake up and fight each and every day, if they want to have a chance of living.  They have no snooze button.  I know that my friend got up every day ready to fight, embracing his battle without complaint.  In fact, he encouraged others and raised us up with him.  I thought about how he would be an amazing mentor and training partner, if he were training for this triathlon with me. 

I also realized that each and every person that the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society is fighting for has a circle of friends and family who probably feel the same way about them as I felt about my friend; these people wake up every morning, not just five or six days a week, and fight, battle and persevere.  I have the luxury of getting off of my bike.  They don’t.  The only way that they can get off of their bike to rest and relax will be as a result of dollars and cents spent on cancer research.

So, I ask you, please donate.  Please donate generously to this all-important cause.  Please donate so that more and more people can wake up in the morning and hit the snooze button in their lives, or have the energy and ability to actually train for a triathlon or marathon, as opposed to battling illness.  If LLS is not your charity of choice, please write a check or donate to your favorite charity.  If you don’t have a favorite charity, or you are looking for a second or third-favorite charity, please consider donating to LLS, and supporting my triathlon bid. 

Thank you.