The Longest Ride

A lot of people say that the Bike is where you make the most amount of time. After all, the swim is the swim, the run is just a shuffle, so the bike is where you can work the hardest and gain crucial minutes.

I started the run along the scenic 4-lane highway to Merida taking it easy, crazy easy. I had to restrain myself from pushing too hard. Had to force myself not to go over 90 RPMs, 120 RPM. But no, I had to work off my cramp on my left leg and I still had a long ways to go.

The Lost Bottle

I popped a gel as I rolled along, took a couple sips of Gatorade. Then as I hit my first bump, my aerobar water bottle took a jump and became road litter. It would be a huge loss but I did not consider stopping to recover and lose valuable time. Plus I didn't want to cause an accident.

Even with all the extensive preps, I had forgotten the simplest things and that was to strap it down with a rubber band so the bottle took a ride all by itself.

It was unfortunate, because I wanted to stay in the aero position while drinking instead of having to situp and reach behind the grab the bottle.

I kept thinking of this like the stinging reminder that I had left my cliff shots at home even after the UPS man had delivered a whole boxful of them.

But despite my forgetfulness and failure to plan properly, I had to focus on the task ahead.

I had to play the hand that was dealt and for the rest of the 55 miles remaining, I rode without an aero-bottle and that was that.

So how was the remaining 55 miles?

Cruisin' along sometime after I lost my bottle

The Long Road Ahead

Treacherous and utterly monotonous. Actually the entire run was flat and smooth on a sparkling new 4-lane highway.

The dense beautiful Mayan jungles flanked both sides of the highway with dense clusters of mangrove trees standing shoulder to shoulder with iguanas and other spiny-tailed lizards scouring to and fro for vegetation.

The thought of ancient civilizations and Mayan pyramids appeared vividly in my mind. I was hoping to catch a glimpse, but unfortunately, no ruins -- just thick Mayan forestry and lots of it with an occasional Mexican cantina serving hot, juicy carne asadas.

Yes, it was natural and yes it was spectacularly special, but all 56 miles of it, eventually it all blended together and each treacherous mile resembled the one before that eventually I began to lose track of where I was and where I needed to go.

I knew I had to do two loops. Knew that there was water, gatorade and powerbars at the turnaround points and knew that I had to focus and conserve energy otherwise I would lose valuable time.

The Pile Ups

And most of all, knew to be careful, especially careful to avoid drafting and to avoid colliding with other bikers which could be dangerous at worst, a race-ender at best.

During the course, there were several bad collisions resulting in bloody road rashes and banged up bikes. I had traveled too far to come to Cancun to get into an accident and not make it all the way. And I wanted to return with bike intact.

After the race, one lady told me a story about a huge boa constrictor crossing the highway, hissing at passing bikes, some stopping, some skirting by.

I was glad I was way back in the pack to experience such a disturbance.

The Strange Noise

And then as I was beginning to speed up and to fire in all cylinders, I started hearing this mysterious click, click, click on my rear gears.

I looked down, shifted gears up and down, even stopped the bike to check it out but could not figure out the cause of this strange noise.

I was sure, whatever the cause, it was not affecting my speed or performance, but only my concentration.

With that strange noise, I instinctively started to slow down, could not focus on my stroke or staying aero.

And then it got to the point that I simply hated it. Wondered if my bike was going to hold the remaining 40 something plus miles.

Wondered why I was riding a brand new bike and wondered why I had paid so much money for it.

It got to the point that folks started passing me and not just folks but women -- the women who had started several minutes after me on the swim -- slowly but surely, I was losing time.

The Adrenalin Booster

But then I saw it -- it wasn't a snake or a dead raccoon. It was the half way point, a large sign that read "Mile 28."

I took the bottles of Gatorade and handed them my empty ones.

Then I started speeding up: 85...95 RPMs. I was hitting a high gear, and believe it or not, I was passing people.

Guys, Gals, -- everyone.

I maintained this pace for the remaining of the race and before long I was heading home with a steady stroke and a good pace.

During the race, I thought about my friend Florence Choe who was shot and killed while running in Afghanistan in March of this year.

LT Florence Choe was shot and killed while jogging in a well-worn path in the outskirts of Forward Operating Base Shaheen on March 27 along with colleague Francis Joiner.

Whenever I encountered a difficult time running or biking, I thought about Florence and the sacrifices she made while serving her country.

I didn't think much else about anything. My mind wanted to just go blank. Didn't want to think about homework or the chores I had to do back home. Just my form, my breathing and my friends. And together, they got me to the finish line.

Thank you for your service Flo and thank you to all who have given their lives for our country and for freedom.

Pretty soon, I had passed the last turnpoint and I was all the highway towards the Cancun strip.

Within minutes I could make out the silhouette of the Kamikaze the gargantuan water slide that towered over the park.

And then the brakes squealed not because I was going too fast but for joy. I declipped and dismounted and with bike in hand, raced into Transition.


I looked around and saw a sea of bikes and knew that I was behind and needed a strong run to catch up and finish with respect.

The Brutal Run

Gearing up for my Run

At the final transition, I met my photographer friend who gave me a quick interview on my impressions of the race.

This took up valuable time but it was invaluable to capture these reflections on the run and in real time. After all what was the downside of losing several minutes when I could savor and appreciate these indelible thoughts indefinitely.

At transition, as I did throughout my bike ride, I debated on what shoes to wear -- my fast Brooks flats or my reliable Brooks Axioms. But since the soles of my feet were hurting at the exact spot where I had clipped, I decided on the Axioms. At least there was plenty of cushion to keep my soles from getting blisters, not something I wanted to endure during a Half Marathon.

Then I took off at a shuffle, a very slow pace at first to work out the painful kinks in my quads and calves. Gradually, I started picking up speed until I was at my regular marathon pace.

I was glad to be off the bike and even gladder to not be choking in water, but I did not appreciate the fact that it was hot, sticky, sweaty humid, but lucky for me the sky soon started turning gray then ominously dark before it pumped out a dragon-like roar and I as well as many of the struggling runners around me all welcomed that roar with glee.

The run took us over Kululcan Boulevard, the thin strip of land between the Caribbean Sea and the Nichupte Lagoon (where we did our swim).

The run, also was nice and flat and provided us with pleasant views of the waterfront, condos, high-rise hotels and golf courses. Unlike the bike, it was a nice chance to get a different scenery and to see people cheering for us along the course.

There were water stops at each KM and I took ample advantage of them by dousing myself with agua frio.

But I stayed away from the Gatorade and Power bars. During the bike, my stomach had taken a beating and could not handle anything sweet or chewy for now.

It seemed forever but soon I was at the turnaround point. I was satisfied with the fact that I was heading back towards the Finish Line, though this would just be the end of the first loop.

This is where something seemed wrong -- the last mile seemed to take eternity -- Longer than 10 mins. I knew I wasn't running that slow.

The First (Wrong) Finish

And then at the turnaround point, the appropriate signage was lacking or missing. Or maybe I was in such a daze, I didn't notice it at all. I asked a fellow runner where the turnaround point was, but he just avoided me. It could be the language problem or perhaps he was just too deeply focused on finishing.

So I kept on running at a decent speed, running until someone or something would stand in my way to interrupt my progress. Run until I passed the VIP Grandstand and crossed the Finish Line with exhilaration and composure.

I ran towards the Mariachi Band and volunteers handing out medals.

That's when I realized that I had indeed run too far, too wrong.

My first crossing of the Finish Line

I was frantic. As much as I wanted the race to end now and start my celebrations, I needed desperately to get back on the course and finish the remaining 6.6 miles, in the rain and in style.

But oh no, since I was out of bounds, would I be disqualified? The thought of coming this far this long and not complete because of a technicality strained my mind.

So after speaking with an official, I quickly hurdled over the barricade and after running through a maze of barriers, I finally found my way back to the course where I continued to hit my stride.

And that's when things started to get interesting.

The Second Swim

The overcast clouds had darkened to a menacing shade of black. Now I started feeling drops of rain softly striking my face which was welcomed at first.

But then the storm rolled in not like a Wet N Wild water slide but like a giant roller coaster.

So strong that it almost blew my sun visor off. So strong that I had zip my Trisuit completely up to avoid it becoming a jibsail on a catamaran on a running tact.

So strong that I could now start whispering the lyrics of the old Bob Seger favorite: "Against the Wind" as I tucked down and pushed through this thick blanket that wanted to wrap me up and tie me down.

And it didn't just rain, it poured the entire Caribbean Sea on me and my fellow runners to the point that my shoes squished at every stride and I could just drink the rain drops coming off my visor to quench my thirst -- with the fog of the run and the fog of the rain, visibility had taken a toll.

The roadway was not ready to take on this drenching downpour to the point that parts of the course was flooded with ankle high water. Still I pushed through, more likely waded through.

It was insane -- the rain, the headwinds. But now it didn't matter. I was in such a state of pain and I just wanted it all to tame.

With 1 mile remain, I glanced quickly at my watch. Then it occurred to me, I had 7 minutes left to make it in by 7 hours.

No, this was impossible. I started picking up my pace, but I knew that I couldn't run this fast even on a good day, even if I was being chased for dear life.

But still I pushed, passing runners upon runners who wondered what's the fuss. Perhaps there was a mistake, there was still a chance to go under 7.

As I turned the corner past the signs, past the crowds and the canopies, I unwittingly glanced up at the clock and came face to face with the truth.

The clock read over 7 hours. While passing the Grandstand and raising my hands in V-signs, I quickly did the math in my head. Even adjusting for my chip start it would be close -- a couple minute close to make it in under the Magic Seven.

The Extra Mile

And the Verdict: I did not make it under Seven.

But by now, I felt victorious just to finish.

When I rode back to the hotel, I found out that the race organizers had seriously miscalculated the run course. We had all run 24 Kms instead of 21 -- nearly 1.5 extra miles.

I was upset to hear this bit of news at first. How could they put us through this unnecessary pain and mental torture.

My official crossing of the Finish Line

But then I rejoiced. I immediately realized that if I factored in the extra 1.5 miles, I would have completed my first half Iron in just under 7 hours.

6 hours, 31 minutes and 32 seconds to be exact.

Would I do this again, you're darn straight. Would I one day tackle a full Ironman -- ask me this next week when I'm all recovered.

But yes, that is my goal, one day, but who's setting goals?

On The Beach

If you come to Cancun for the Ironman 70.3, I recommend staying through Monday. You have to take time to enjoy the sights and to recover -- and what's a better way than to sit out on the beach and just relax.

I could not get enough of the beautiful crystal-clear and choppy Caribbean water. Here I'm thinking of next year's competition.

Surf is up and I'm all alone first thing in the morning (In Cancun you can start swimming at 0630 and the sun is already hot by 0700'ish)

The view of the exclusive beach directly outside the Condesa Hotel

I'm working hard with my MacBook on the beach outside the Condesa Fiesta Americana. The hotel provides WiFi that is as fast as a jetski, even out on the beach -- but at a steep price, and worth every penny.

Enjoyed watching Parasailing. I just preferred to lie on the beach -- An Ironman was enough excitement for the day

Relaxing in the Condesa Fiesta American Pool

Chichen Itza

A visit to Cancun would be remiss without visiting the ruins of Chichen Itza.

One of the most breathtaking ruins in the Mayan world. The Mayan Ballpark and the Temple of Warriors provides a view of a very modern world that has long since been forgotten.

This Mayan city was founded around 800 AD and is the best restored Mayan site in the Yucatan Peninsula.

So in Cancun, it's not just running in an Ironman 70.3, it's enjoying, relaxing and learning about the history and culture -- and that together is more important than completing the triathlon

Julia's Journey

The Nation's Triathlon Swim

The Journey for Baby Julia: The Nation's Triathlon

Triathlons are full of inspiring stories.

Wendy and Steve Spohn's story is a perfect example of one.

Steve and Wendy’s daughter, Julia, was born on June 9, 2006 in a small hospital in Bamberg, Germany.

One day after Julia was born, Wendy and Steve discovered that Julia had a severe birth defect--she had been born with three heart chambers instead of four.


Both Wendy and Steve were Soldiers in the Army and the entire family was relocated to Washington DC. There, Julia was treated at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center where doctors diagnosed her with Heterotaxy Syndrome.

Since the Spohn's and their one-year-old son, Lukas, had left all their belongings in Germany and had no duty station to call home, they were homeless, until the Ronald McDonald House of Washington DC provided them shelter and food.

“It was a blessing to have a place for our son to take a break from the hospital and just enjoy being a toddler,” Wendy said.

Julia had undergone two major surgeries and was waiting for a liver transplant when sadly, she acquired a hospital-borne infection and passed away at 4 months old.

After Julia’s tragic passing, Wendy and Steve tried several times to have another baby, but each time they miscarried, four times in two years.


During this time of grief and suffering, Wendy was determined to do something challenging and different to pay tribute to the pain her own daughter Julia had endured in her short life.


Wendy decided to embark on an intense physical training program to bring her body fat back under the Army’s requirements and finish a triathlon in honor of her daughter Julia.


Wendy did some research online and discovered that the Nation's Triathlon would be held in DC, on her birthday.

So with only three months till the triathlon, Wendy and her husband Steve embarked in an intensive training program that culminated with their first sprint triathlon last month.


"All the pain that we went through was in honor of her," Wendy declared. “I can gain closure from this experience and be able to move on as we move on to our next duty station."

"We completed this journey together as a family; it means a lot to both of us," Steve Spohn stated with pride.

KC's Triathlon Angel

Nation's Triathlon:Barefoot in Georgetown:

Reflecting

If you know me, you wouldn't have believed I was walking around barefoot all around town. Barefoot with balega socks, but with a bike helmet for safety.

Many people stared and I'm sure many of them thought that I was crazy. Many taxis just drove by as if I didn't exist when I waved and hollered for them to stop.

It all started on the Clara Barton Parkway, at Lock 6 to be exact during the Sunday of the Nation's Triathlon.

Understanding

That's when I saw a rider wipe out: her rear derailleur had completely detached from her bike. I instinctively stopped to give her a hand.

I sensed despair -- I knew she had trained hard to complete her first Olympic triathlon. I saw determination in her eyes. So I gave her my bike; I felt almost compelled.

Negotiating

She turned down the offer at first because she couldn't believe that I was for real.

"I'm not in this race," I explained. "I'm riding to shadow a fellow triathlete who I'm covering to write a story."

I had captured her graceful exit out of the water, but in the panic of rushing to transition, we had lost each other.

"Please, I insisted. Take the bike. I want you to finish. What's your name?" I asked.

"KC"

"Nice to meet you. Now go knock 'em dead."

And after some time to get adjusted, she was off like a speeding zombie.

And I was barefoot somewhere in the dense woods near Glen Echo, Maryland at least eight miles from the start line.

Inspiring

Luckily, I met a nice couple who lived just up the street and had come down to watch part of the race.

They gave me a lift to Georgetown and I felt very fortunate. I hoped to get back to the start in time to see KC finish.

Navigating

From there, I caught a bus to Foggy Bottom, then a cab to Constitution Ave, and walked the rest of the way through the Lincoln National Memorial to T1.

On the way, I met some Sisters who were in town visiting the Memorials. We chatted a bit.

Then I met some triathletes and supporters who had just completed the run and were returning home.

I exchanged greetings -- by now, she should be arriving at the finish line. So I pushed on quicker, faster.

I was glad to see that she had made it back to transition and had already hit the road.

I was also glad to see my bike, and surprised to see hers right next to mine.

But you should have seen the smile on my face when I learned that she had crossed the finish line.

That's whats great about the family of triathletes -- we're always looking out for each other and we will always lend a helping hand, if we can, when on

BTW, my new friend also helped out another triathlete. A few minutes later, someone had a flat and was able to borrow my friend's spare tube -- a friend helping out a friend.

Today's fortuitous incidents helped me realize that we're all one another's keepers: whether on or off our bikes. This was a reminder that:

"When covering a story, slow down to smell the roses. You never know when you will be part of the story."

Anacostia National Waterfront Loop

The Alexandria, National, Anacostia (ANA) Loop

Anacostia is a historic region located east of the river it is named after. Following the construction of the Anascostia freeway and the postwar flight of whites to suburban areas, Anacostia underwent a transformation. From then on, the neighborhood changed into the predominantly black district it is now.

Although the crime rate in Anacostia has fallen from its peak in the 1990s, many Washingtonians still consider Anacostia "the most dangerous neighborhood in DC." But for bikers looking for an interesting bike route looping through Virginia, south Maryland, and DC, Anacostia's beauty cannot be overlooked.

(Part of Anacostia's renaissance was the revilitization of previously neglected housing, which turned many aspiring homeowners' dreams into reality. As a resident of Anacostia, I am a daily witness to the promise the up-and-coming neighborhood exudes and disappointedly, the bad rep it receives from other Washingtonians.)

Chapter 20: Living in the City

The following is the ONLY complete loop that goes through DC, MD and VA. There are scenic and serene places to stop for sightseeing and reflection along the way:

http://www.mapmyrun.com/route/us/dc/washington/850125251019582340

Southeast DC

• The ride kicked off from the front steps of my house on Bruce Place, Congress Heights in SE DC.
  
• A casual ride down Alabama Ave (passing the redeveloped Henson Ridge, the new Giant, IHOP)
  
• Then Alabama meets Martin Luther King as we continue downhill down this historic street. On MLK day, Southeast hosts Washington's major MLK parade.
  
• MLK merges into South Capitol St which takes us all the way to the border of DC and Prince George County, MD.
  

Southern Maryland

• Once in MD, South Capitol turns into Indian Head Highway. You actually ride on the highway -- but relax, there's a wide lane off the highway where you can ride -- approx 5 minutes.
• There's speeding traffic, but keep your head on a swivel, and you should do fine. (Recommend not riding this part during rush hour. Off peak and weekends are best)
• Once you past 295, make a right onto Oxon Hill Road. Then take your immediate right onto National Ave.
• The views of the Potomac at National Ave is utterly amazing.
• At this point, you can veer left into National Harbor.
• Or you can continue right over the Woodrow Wilson Bridge.
• The Bridge is well laid out and spectacular with many spots that provides a great panoramic view.

National Harbor

Virginia

• Once over the bridge, you pass the quaint St Mary's Cemetery, Then make a right onto Washington St.
• If you like, you can hang a right onto Old Towne for lunch, snacks or ice cream.
• Or enter the Mount Vernon Trail just prior to the National Airport.
• You continue on the Trail until you ride under the 14th St Bridge.
• This will bring you back to DC.

National Airport from Mount Vernon Trail

DC

• In DC, ride through East Potomac Park
• Then towards the Waterfront (if you like make a stop at the various fish markets.)
• Once past the fish market, hug the shoreline as you ride along the sidwalk by the marina.
• Near Ft McNair, make a left on O St towards National Park.
• Then over the South Capitol St (Frederick Douglas) bridge.
• Once over on Anacostia, stay on Howard Road.
• Then hang a right on Martin Luther King Ave until you arrive at the top of the hill where Players Restaurant is located.

Summary

• That's it -- the 17.3 mile loop around DC.
• For anyone interested, you can start this loop almost anywhere in DC, MD and VA.
• Plus it's relatively safe with broad streets and several metro stops along the route.
  

Let me know if you're interested in checking out this ride -- I might be willing to go with you.

Capital Crescent Trail -- The Rain, My Thoughts Run Free

I'm motivated today. Motivated to take my new bike out for a spin. But first things first. To bid adieu to the Bolling Air Force Base pool before it closes for the year after Labor Day.

Once I got in, didn't want to stop. Swam 32 laps in all in a 50 meter pool -- a total of about 3 miles.

For once, it wasn't monotonous -- but a nice day with a few people out tanning and enjoying the water. I just swam without thinking, almost on auto.

Then the moment I was looking forward to -- the Capitol Crescent Trail starting in Georgetown. Normally, it would be packed with runners and rollerbladers.

But since it was starting to get dark and dark clouds and thunderheads was looming overhead, the traffic was getting slim -- which allowed me to go all out.

Once at the end of the trail, the skies had opened up full bore, so I rushed to find sanctuary.

To Penangs it was for a nice meal of Hainan steamed chicken, Hainanese chicken rice and two frosty glasses of Sam Adams at the bar. I swapped stories with the owner and the manager about bikes. He had just bought a fuji and was enjoying it.

After dinner, I escaped back to the trail. It was pitch dark and some spots I could barely make out past 100 feet. Then the skies opened up again and it started pouring. I was having a blast in my Specialized triathlon bike. My Zipp 404s kept me steady despite the wind and the rain.

When riding--whether in the rain or a clear day--your mind often goes off in reflective tangents. On this particular night, the torrential storms took me back to 2007, the last time I was caught in rain this copious. I reflected over my 20 years in the Navy and my mind zoned in on one of the most interesting experiences of my time as a Public Affairs officer.

Two years ago, I was working as a press officer at the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD). Journalists and correspondents often hovered over our cubicles, querying and interrogating us with pointed or open-ended questions that required immediate responses.

It was not easy -- an unwise or an inaccurate response could have significant repercussions – When North Korea decided to launch short range ballistic missiles, I was blasted by the White House for contradicting their statement and saying that this was "a routine exercise."

They were right-- I had not fully vetted my response with the NSC -- every reason to be reprimanded and rebuked.

These experiences, trials and tribulations have molded me and have provided me with the necessary background and insight to better understand the gist of the issue and to react methodically to several crises from several different perspectives.

In my next journey in life, I want to do more of the same yet everything different. First I want to do things that I’ve always had the urge to explore but did not have the time, resources or permission to venture due to my military restrictions and responsibilities.

Being in the military, there were things I couldn’t say or do. As a Public Affairs officer, that requirement was even more restrictive.

My thoughts rambled on, running free while I stayed faithfully on my trail.

Pretty soon, I was back in Georgetown -- by that time, the skies had cleared up -- just enough for me to run a few miles at the Mall before they opened up again. I couldn't wait for where my thoughts would take me this time.

Shen Yun, So Heavenly, So Divine

Reflecting

The history of China, like it's people, is vast and colorful. So many Dynasties and Emperors were born into this eclectic world. It is no wonder a production such as Shen Yun has come into out lives. It is amazing how no matter what country you go to, religion will always play a major role in its' current affairs.

In 1992 Li Hongzhi founded the Falun Gong system of beliefs. The practice emerged at the end of China's "qigong boom" in the early 1990s as a form of qigong. Falun Gong differs from competing qigong schools through its absence of daily rituals of worship, its greater emphasis on morality, and the purported theological nature of its teachings.

Understanding

This evening I had the tremendous pleasure to watch one of the greatest shows of this century. Yes, indeed the brilliant and inspiring Shen Yun with the silky, flowing costumes and the incredible classical music -- the amazing tunes and tones coming from the xylophone, the trumpet, the tympanis, the pianist -- all blending together like one smooth piece of cloth, held tightly together by an amazing conductor.

Negotiating

Shen Yun is a magnificent and majestic experience, something that can be shared with one and all. The performance explains the principles of truth, compassion and forebearance. I truly believe that when people are in the midst of such a melodic masterpiece, coupled with a meaningful message, the human body body can become healed, in some cases, from our inflictions and diseases. This is what I'm suggesting. This is an option in attaining not only a peace of mind but a healthy state of life.

Inspiring

It was not the music or the costumes that I came to see. I came to hear the message and to learn the themes that so struck me and left a deep impression on my mind and soul that it took my breath away.

I was deeply moved and inspired by the life story of an innocent family that suffers from persecution, but eventually finds peace in heaven.

Each scene had a different message with a broader implications.

Negotiating

Scenes like this was so emotional, touching and uplifting. I left with a better understanding that life is indeed special and that good is definitely rewarded and evil is punished. One day, I hope Shun Yun performs in mainland China -- the people in this great country need to see this -- their lives will be forever changed.

You will be at peace feeling very spirited watching this, trust me.

Watch a 12-second snippet of my interview by Ms. Julianne Xu on NTDTV: