Reluctantly Fit

This past Sunday officially marked the end of my 2010 season. By completing a 10K race, I accomplished the last of my goals, and with that I’ll put this blog to bed. Not that it’s been much of a blog lately, but still… to bed it goes. For this last post I’ll cover my last couple races, as they’re both significant.

First, I think it’s useful to review the goals I set for myself, as (having now accomplished them) it’s easy to forget that they each represented a significant achievement when I originally set them nearly a year ago:

1. Complete a sprint–length triathlon
2. Set a new personal–best for 5K
3. Race and complete a 10K

Escape to Belle Isle 5K

Escape to Belle Isle happened this past July 17, and I selected this particular race for two reasons:

1. Being on the island of Belle Isle, I assumed the course would be flat and fast
2. It was scheduled the weekend following the Waterloo triathlon, the better to capitalize on the training peak I’d planned for that race

What I didn’t anticipate were the conditions – even at 8:30AM it was hot, and the race got off to a bit of a late start, making it hotter still during the run. Further complicating things (and so far without precedent) were my nerves. Since I was racing for a personal best I had a number to chase. That number, sitting out there ready to judge my effort as either glorious or ignoble, caused me a fair amount of anxiety, and I felt jittery and tense even during my warm up jog.

The plus side to my many years of inactivity is that by simply training consistently I can expect consistently improving results. I really didn’t have anything to worry about. I ran the race I intended (for the most part – I tend to start too quickly) and finished well. I was eying a couple people heading into the last mile and ran them down by the end, even if I couldn’t hold off the teenager that out kicked me in the last 100 yards. Final time: 25:57 – good enough for second in my age group on this particular day.

Big House, Big Heart 10K

This past Sunday, October 3, I completed my first 10K race and good riddance! I’ve been nursing a nagging injury to my right plantar fascia since January 17th and expanding my distance in preparation for this race has been a royal pain in the ass foot. The course was fun, winding through Ann Arbor for a couple loops before ending on the 50 yard line of the Big House, and passing people as they faltered up the hill up Division street on the second lap was a joy (I’d been training on that hill for a couple weeks ), but I’m just burned out on running right now.

As this was a completion goal, any result would be sufficient, but I was hoping to be under 60 minutes. Expanding my endurance has proven very difficult, and I spent a fair amount of time prior to the start easing myself into the idea that Finishing is the goal…, but I can’t deny that I really wanted a zero in the hours column. By the halfway mark I was optimistic, and at 4 miles I was pretty sure I had it in the bag… final time: 56:55.

Final Thoughts

Well, there’s not really much more to add. I intended this blog as way to document and make public my triathlon training and it has served that purpose. As it goes it exceeded that purpose, as my training and documentation needs changed and the scope of the blog crept (I mean, burger reviews?!? really?!? ). I have enjoyed writing it and I hope y’all have enjoyed reading it.

Going forward, and now serving the only purpose that remains for this blog (the public declaration of my personal fitness goals), I’ll share my goals for next season:

Triathlon

1. Complete an Olympic–length triathlon
2. Better my times at the Hawk–I–Tri and/or Waterloo triathlon

Running

1. Run a personal best 5K (ideally in sub 8:00 pace)
2. Run a personal best 10K
3. Run a half marathon

I’m assuming that the 5K and 10K PR goals will take care of themselves – I don’t expect to be able to run a half marathon without improving my fitness level, and a fitness level that will support a half marathon ought to laugh in the face of a 10K, let alone a 5K. The Olympic–length triathlon will require some work (particularly if I want to …finish with a smile…, but I think the bulk of that work is already complete in that I can cover the run distance (10K) and my regular swim and bike workouts already cover the 1.5K and 40K respectively. I think the bear of the bunch will be the half marathon.

At my level of fitness estimates are useless. I’m just not fit enough to project performance out to the half marathon distance right now. That said, I’ve run some projections since completing the 10K and I’ve done just that. Based on my personal best times at the 5K and 10K distances, and working backwards through a performance prediction formula originally developed by Pete Riegel, I’ve calculated that my pace increases by about 13% when the distance doubles (note – Riegel’s original formula estimates an increase of 6%… like I said, estimates are useless at my fitness level). Based on a 13% pace increase, my half marathon time would be somewhere near 2:12:30. So that will be my goal. First half–mari (god, I hate that term) in under 2:15:00. You heard it here first.

I haven’t picked any races for next year yet, though there are a few at which I’d like another crack (both the triathlons I did this year come to mind, as does the venue of my first 5K…). I suspect I’ll race the half marathon late in the year, likely after my triathlon season draws to a close. Other than that I simply haven’t thought about it. I’m blissfully free from structured workouts for the coming week and I’m simultaneously drinking in the free time and looking forward to tuning up my schedule for the off season work that my goals will require. A year ago today I ran 2.5 miles – at that time the farthest I’d run in over a decade. That would constitute a recovery run for me today. I’m host to a couple nagging minor injuries and 20 less pounds. I think I have another season of self–coaching in me, after which I suspect I’ll have to decide if I want to really pursue personal excellence in this or just do it for fun, but that’s really the telling statement, isn’t it? After the better part of a decade living a sedentary life, I now consider working out and racing as something I do …for fun. To quote an annoying hippie–jam–band–type what a long, strange trip it’s been.

Adios!

…where (as the sign says) Nothing beats a Quickie

I’ll try to get through this one, well, quickly…

Burger

Meh.

Grade: C

Beer

Meh +

Grade: C+

Service

Hey, pretty good. But, you know, it was the owner serving me – if I don’t get at least pretty good service from him then what hope does the place have?

Grade: B

Ambiance

Meh.

Grade: C

Grade: C … apparently, a lot of things beat a Quickie… who knew?

S and I ate here before the greatest honky tonk band in the history of all space–time hit the gazebo in Monument Park. Though I generally prefer something a bit lighter before I play, this was a perfect opportunity to take in the pub, as I don’t make it into Dexter too often these days.

Burger

No attempt was made here. Not medium, not flavorful, not juicy, not not not. Can’t even speak complete sentances and speling is brokn nd bad. Crap. How hard is it, really? I mean, I’m not expecting the world here, am I? All I want is a flavorful slab of reasonably pink ground meat served on a bun with a little soul and toppings that at some point in the last incarnation or two saw the sun. Please give me a potato that has been sliced into strips and actually cared for while passing through your hands into the oil and onto my plate. Is it so hard?

Funny thing – my first impression was actually pretty OK. With every bite, however, I realized that my first impression was informed mostly by my hopefulness rather than the food itself. And with every, depressing bite my hope died a little bit and was replaced with the aching feeling of a meal squandered. It’s sad, really

Grade: D

Beer

I was optimistic that the Dexter Pub would have a reasonable selection, and was happy to see a good number of draft beer available. Unfortunately, the selection was mostly Budbudlightmillermillerlightbusch with only a couple fringe beers thrown in. I opted for an Oberon and it tasted watery (sigh).

Grade: C I think I’d have rather seen no choices than reasonable choices done badly

Service

At one point I counted 6 waitresses (the counting of which was pretty easy to do as they mostly hung out together by the order window, chatting) and yet we seemed forever waiting for ours. She was pleasant enough while at our table (even if distracted and disinterested), but she always seemed to be in a hurry to leave. And it took forever to get the tab – Hello… this is the part where I give you my money… try to keep your eyes on the prize…

Grade: C

Ambiance

This is the one thing that felt right about the Dexter pub, the one thing I remembered that drove our bus to its door, so to speak. It has a homey, friendly feel. The decorations are hokey and unabashedly down home. I’ll dock it a bit for being more a restaurant than a bar, but it’s still an authentic, American pub.

Grade: B+

Grade: C- I’m reminded of the old song by The Monks – Nice Legs Shame About Her Face… The Dexter Pub may have a nice vibe, but a pub with bad food and marginal beer (done badly) is really no draw.

I’m slow to the party at Slow’s (Hey! a PUN!), my first visit being only a few short weeks ago. I have nothing but good to say about their barbecue, so taking in a burger here felt a bit sacrilegious. When what they do well is ‘cue, why should I slog through a burger? being the operative question, I did the smart thing – I asked the waitress.

Apparently, Slows’ Special Purpose (their burger) was voted one of the best sandwiches in, you know, the country. Upon hearing that I threw convention to the wind and ordered a burger…

Burger

Holy shit. Great God in heaven above. A BURGER! A GOL DANG BURGER, people! Raise up your hands and shout it with me – THIS IS WHAT A BURGER SHOULD, NAY MUST BE!

The menu says something like Niman Ranch half-pound burger cooked to order with spicy onions, smoked gouda, applewood bacon and sweet sauce. (and when I say like I mean I copied it word for word), but it utterly fails to encapsulate the magic here. It’s like reading the ingredients in a Reuben – maybe you like ‘em all, maybe you don’t… maybe it sounds good, maybe it doesn’t… but there is a sublime synergy between those individual ingredients that, when combined, eclipses them altogether. The same can be said for Slows’ Special Purpose. The burger seemed fairly modest compared to some, but the balance between the ingredients is incredible – they all complement each other, yet none are content to stand aside. Each one asserts itself, gently pushing to the forefront only to be nudged aside by another. It’s like the old joke – There’s a party in my mouth and everybody is coming – Slows’ Special Purpose is sex in your mouth.

Grade: A+ I hesitated before adding the + but who the hell am I kidding… this is the best burger I’ll eat, and if anything ventures near it then it’ll get an A+ too.

Beer

Holy shit. Great God in heaven above. A BEER LIST! A GOL DANG BEER LIST, people! Slow’s takes their ‘cue seriously, and that extends to what they serve to wash it down. I’ve been there three times in about 6 weeks and the offerings have been substantially different each time. I don’t know it they serve Budbudlightmillermillerlightbusch, but they’re not broadcasting it if they do. You can expect to find everything from light lagers to hearty stouts and more likely than not you can expect a deep album cut with the single (for example, both Bell’s Two–Hearted and Quinannan Falls Lager).

Grade: A Others have more, or make it themselves, but Slows’ selection is exemplary (not a sour note in the bunch (well, except for the Brother Thelonious from North Coast Brewing, but it’s a Belgian–style… it’s supposed to be a bit sour )) and ever–changing

Service

Perfectly serviceable She was knowledgeable, knew her beer from a cold bucket of water, provided very useful menu suggestions – and from the heart, too… this wasn’t about Well, people seem to really like the sardines… it was more Well, my favorite is the pig ear sausage because I like the way they chop the ear before grinding it… (examples are for, well, examples’ sake only – Slow’s doesn’t serve pig ear sausage (which is terrific, by the way) or sardines (which are also terrific (when you’re in the mood))). She had a ready smile and seem at ease, which consequently transferred to our experience. I guess she could have been more gregarious but I’m just nit–picking.

Grade: A-

Ambiance

This is a weird one. Criticizing the decor here would be like complaining about the particular kind of palm trees at the oasis. Slow’s is in Corktown in Detroit, across from the old central station – an abandoned hulk of a structure – and as such stands out a bit from its neighbors (in that it’s standing at all). Not that I want to criticize it, mind… I’m just sayin’. Slow’s is a restaurant first (if it’s a bar at all), but the dining area is dominated by a large, three–sided bar that makes it feel a bit like a modern American English pub. Carved from the declining city, the walls are exposed brick with richly varnished wood and steel accouterments. It feels like industrial meets uptown, the urban softening and the uptown getting a bit heavier in the process. It feels good (but then, I may be swayed by association… did I mention that the food is fucking terrific?) and it’s put together well but not contrived.

Grade: B+ I’m not sure a restaurant can get an A, actually.

Grade: A. I’m seriously considering making this my last burger review. At this point, I’m not (at all) optimistic that any other place can mount a serious challenge. Now, will you please excuse me? I ordered some barbecue to go and I’m now feeling a bit peckish…

A bit of a bittersweet post, this. Last Sunday, July 11th I raced the last triathlon I have scheduled this season. I say scheduled because there are others being held (and I may race another one or two before it’s all over) but I’m neither signed up for nor originally planned to do any more. The race was fun, I met some good people, I didn’t get elbowed, nobody tried to pass me in the last 50 yards (I’m not sure there was anybody left behind me, actually), and I finished. But, you know, it’s the last one and that’s a little sad.

There’s something about taking life in small, manageable chunks. We spend a dozen or more of our first few decades moving from assignment to assignment, term to term, grade to grade, each hurdle an accomplishment of one kind or another, each hurdle demarcating a small segment of time in which the expectations are (theoretically) clear. For me, restless in mind, energy, and spirit and returning to college after years in the workplace, the stress of classes was often like a vacation – at least the expectations were blissfully clear and I did nothing for too long. The races this year, from the first indoor triathlon in February, to a fun run with a good chunk of family, to my first outdoor, open–water triathlon just a few short weeks ago have all served to split this season in much the same way, and the clarity that structure has provided has been refreshing

I still have a couple foot races planned this year, but at some point soon I’ll have to decide what my long term goals are (if any) regarding triathlons, let alone whether I’ll continue to blog the training (not that I’ve been doing much of that lately). But for now…

Race Results

The race was smaller than I was expecting – less than 200 participants raced the triathlon (there was a duathlon running concurrently). I was simultaneously happy (less people means less elbows in the water) and nervous (less people means a smaller group in which to hide) about that, but it all turned out fine. Like I said above, it was a fun, friendly race. I was sore as hell on the run (the general consensus being the course was a bear) but I finished uninjured and satisfied.

Distance:

1/2 mile swim

16 mile ride

5 mile run

Time:

1:59:08

Position:

24th of 27 (in age group)

124th of 178 (overall)

Swim time:

19:08 (2:10 per 100, 17th in age group, 98th overall)

Transition 1:

1:20 (15th in age group)

Ride:

46:31 (20.6 mph, 20th in age group, 96th overall)

Transition 2:

1:36 (21st in age group)

Run time:

50:34 (10:07 pace, 24th in age group, 142nd overall)

For those of you so interested, complete results may be found on the official results page under the listings for 2010 triathlon

Swim

After my last race, during which I seriously questioned whether I was up to the task of this 1/2 mile open–water swim, I was a little apprehensive heading for the beach. Turns out I had no reason to be. I felt like a fish – like a sleek, slippery, fish. I had a plan and I carried it out without a hitch. I lined up a little wide, started slowly, swam wide at the turns to avoid congestion around the buoys, and generally tried to just relax. In retrospect this was the best, most enjoyable part of the race by a wide margin. Remembering it now makes me want to sign up for an Olympic–distance race just to have the opportunity to swim a mile.

Ride

I benefited from riding this course in the weeks leading up to the event. Knowing it well the hills seemed smaller somehow. The ride itself was mostly uneventful. I was passed by people, I passed ‘em back. There were a few notables – the old guy in the neon yellow jersey (a duathlete) passing me grinning, his calf emblazoned with his age (71), changing places with the young twenty–something hard body in his expensive triathlon gear on his flashy tri–bike before finally leaving him for good with about 4 miles to go (for the record, he passed me for good on the run ) – but mostly I remember feeling strong and consistent.

I opted to forgo my heart rate monitor this time (and my quicker first transition time attests to that) so I only had my perceived exertion to go on. Turns out I’m not very perceptive – the 20.6 mph I averaged was a full three miles per hour faster than a recent training ride during which I maintained the heart rate I felt would save me a little gas. As satisfying as it was, I’m blaming that fast pace for thoroughly undermining the following leg…

Run

Ugh.

I like running, I really do. I enjoy the repetition, the rhythm of the foot falls and the breath, the way the body can move you forward while your mind wanders. Given that, I’m not sure what I did was running. It was more like… like… oh, let’s say it was like a medieval torture device – slow, painful, and unrelenting. Considering that I rode harder than was probably prudent, it wasn’t a surprise that the first half mile was gruesome. Pretty much every muscle in my legs cramped up but good (least of which, oddly, my quads… I guess that tells me something about my bike mechanics…), and it took an enormous act of will to not walk it off (rather than plod it off like I was doing). I kept telling myself that it would pass – that once they released the run would be much, much easier. And so it was true for about a mile. Not fun, mind, but passable.

About 1–1/2 miles in my knees started acting up. What started as a mild ache blossomed into full pain and culminated in stabbing pain (and isn’t stabbing pain really the best kind?) by the end. Thankfully, the vast majority of the run was off–pavement (mostly gravel road ending with about 1–1/4 mile trail) or I would have found myself walking. As it was I ran the whole thing (and I use ran here quite loosely – I wasn’t exactly breaking any land speed records with ten minute miles). The uneven terrain during the trail run proved a bit of a blessing in that the force transferred to my knees from my foot strikes was a little different each time. That said there was a lot more variation in elevation on the trail, and the sharp downhill sections were excruciating. It wasn’t until I finally ran into the clear, the finish line just a couple hundred yards away, that I was able to put the pain truly aside and finish strong. I glanced over my shoulder a couple times but there was no need for any finish line heroics this time. Just crossing it intact was enough.

So there it is. Last October I hatched this crazy plan and here I am nine months later having finished my second triathlon. I’m in better shape than I’ve been since, I don’t know… maybe high school, and I see further fitness and endurance heights to climb. Everything I’ve read suggests that base endurance is built over years and it’s fun to think about re–running my two triathlons with another year of training under my belt. One guy I talked to after the race said that only a couple years ago the thought of running the distance he now covers during a standard maintenance workout was a seemingly unattainable goal. Maybe he felt then like I do now when I think about running a marathon…

…hmmm… a marathon?

I went here with G after work one day. We were positing where to go when he made the claim that there were only four places to get a burger and a beer in town: the three brew pubs and Ashley’s. Among his inventory of brew pubs, however, he was missing Jolly Pumpkin.

Burger

The only burger on the menu at Jolly Pumpkin is the JP Burger – I suppose I could have tried to finagle my standard burger out of them but I took the path of least resistance and ordered it as–is. I’m glad I did. To be fair, the JP Burger has a couple distinct advantages over the standard. First (and foremost) there’s bacon on the JP Burger and (as we all know) the addition of bacon to a thing makes that thing better. Second, the JP Burger has some form of Brie cheese on it and when the heat of the burger melted the Brie a magical thing happened in my mouth. I’m telling you – this burger was something else! It won on every level, really. The bacon was done to just–this–side of crisp with a good tooth but not crumbly, the sauteed mushrooms were terrific, the cut–by–hand tomato slice was thick and ripe, the cheese melted just enough to integrate without getting goopy, and the bun (a grilled challah roll) was rich and tender while still holding its own. We have a front runner, people… we have a front runner!

Grade: A

Beer

Jolly Pumpkin is a brew pub, so hopes run high here. They’ve won awards and stuff (I think – I’d have to research to know for sure and that just seems like too much work right now. I’ll tell you what… I’ll Google it for you), but honestly I’ve never been too impressed. Now, when Tom, Dick, and Harry are all talking about something and I try it and I’m all like, meh then I’m left with two options… either Tom, Dick, and Harry are idiots or I missed something. On this one I haven’t yet decided. I’ll say this, however… I’ve had their Bam Biere and Bam Noire a couple times and have always thought them lacking body and complexity… like they’re all nose and no mouth… like (maybe) their target market is populated by average Joe and and they’re brewing to please his unsophisticated palate. On this day, after giving the Bam Noire yet another (undeserving) try, I ordered a Berserker off the specials menu and the scales fell from my eyes. All the Bam twins aren’t, Berserker is. At 10.5 percent alcohol it’s not to be trifled with but there is a clarity to it that deserves further investigation. In the style of a strong ale, the malt is rich and sweet but never overpowers the hops that dance in and out. Truly a terrific beer. So where does that leave us? Despite being a brew pub, their standard fare fails the most generous expectation (yeah… I decided Tom, Dick, and Harry are idiots – glad we got that sorted out…) but there’s at least one gem in the vaults… I guess I’ll have to explore things a bit further to know for sure, but for the time being I’ll average the one good and the many average.

Grade: B-

Service

Meh. It felt like she felt she had other, more important people to serve. Truth is she just wanted to chat with the hostess. That said, she got me my food and beer in all due haste and and the check was tendered quickly. I wouldn’t avoid Jolly Pumpkin (even if she was to be my waitress), but I also wouldn’t go expecting scintillating conversation (or, really any conversation) either.

Grade: C+

Ambiance

Another Meh here. The bar itself dominates the front left half of the room and the area across from it is split into mini boothlets that feel crowded together. No matter where I sat the light above the table seemed to be shining into my (admittedly very sensitive) eyes, and while I was too close to my neighbors I felt oddly separated from the rest of the bar. Ultimately, Jolly Pumpkin is a restaurant rather than a bar. Though I prefer the latter, I’ll grade based on the former.

Grade: B-

Grade: B+ Though the terrific burger sets the pace, there are enough oddities here to keep Jolly Pumpkin out of the A range. If my assessment of their beer doesn’t match yours then by all means enjoy yourself, Tom. I’ll be the guy piled uncomfortable close to you raving about the burger while simultaneously searching the beer specials and grumbling about the un–kept promise of this brew pub. If that sounds a little schizophrenic then it captures my feelings about Jolly Pumpkin perfectly. And don’t worry – I’m mostly harmless.

As a finalist in my just–made–up–and–completely–arbitrary Best Name For a Bar Ever contest, the expectations are running high as I walk into Missy’s Grass Shack in bustling downtown Grass Lake. OK – that’s bullshit. I’ve been in here plenty of times and expectations don’t run high here – they run comfortingly low (Oh, and Grass Lake doesn’t bustle).

Burger

I remember loving the burgers at the Grass Shack, but every time I have one I wonder why. They’re little grease bombs that are built upside down (Seriously. From bottom up: pickles, lettuce, tomato, meat, grilled onions, cheese. WTF?). They stick with you in most of the wrong ways, but it’s the go–to item for me. What I know for sure: S and I had a couple drinks each, a burger (served with a bag of Lay’s potato chips), a grilled cheese sandwich and a side of fries and paid under $17. I think the grilled cheese was $2. Just writing about it makes me want to take the afternoon off to embrace a little lower GI distress at the Shack.

Grade: A A lousy burger by foodie standards, but quintessentially Missy’s (and, like $2.65).

Beer

You want beer? They got beer. Budbudlightmillermillerlightbusch and on draft. Plus bottles. On this day I got a PBR in a bottle (just flexing my inner hipster, don’t you know). Many years ago I went in February and was surprised to hear they had Oberon (usually a summer–only offering) in bottles. When I asked ‘em about it they reported that they …still had a few bottles left from a case they mistakenly ordered… the previous summer. Not much of a market for snooty beer at Missy’s. And you know what? That Oberon just tasted wrong with the burger. Since this is not a snooty beer place the grading system has to be altered.

Grade: Pass Yes, they have beer.

Service

I was called hon twice (before I even ordered my beer) and I was given a hard time for my apparent inability to master the burger order (or what S referred to as being a high–maintenance bitch ). Yeah. Safe to say the service was terrific. Five minutes into the place and you feel like a regular.

Grade: A

Ambiance

A sad story, this. A couple years back Missy’s burned. Not down, but there was significant enough damage to warrant a revamp. Story has it that Missy had always wanted a tiki bar (grass shack, right?) so she tricked out the bar with bright colors and parapher–tiki–nalia and she now has her tiki bar. Unfortunately, the new decor just doesn’t quite do it for me. The old place was dingy and dark in all the best ways. It was a corner bar in a red–neck town. There was a lot of NASCAR stuff. There was Spider’s corner. Now it just feels a little too bright for comfort.

Grade: C

Grade: B You get what you pay for at Missy’s Grass Shack. As long as your expectation matches the $2.65 burger and a Bud then you’ll be fine.

Every once in a while you stumble on to a place that exceeds all expectations… a place that redefines experience… a revolutionary place. I recently took in a burger and a beer at City Limits. It was none of those things.

Burger

I deviated from the standard burger in order to try the namesake City Limits cheese burger (featuring bacon and an Ancho sauce) so comparisons would have been difficult had this burger been edible. It really wasn’t. At the center of this culinary torture device was a pre–formed patty in it’s worst incarnation. Seriously, I think maybe in a previous life my hamburger was a serial killer or a rapist or parking cop and all that karmic retribution culminated in the dry, badly–cooked slab of crap I was served. Yeah, I was served all right, ugh. The fries were beer battered which really should have been a clue, right? Submerging raw potatoes in hot oil results in one the finest creations in the world – if you feel you have to beer batter them then I think you’re hiding something, and that thing is that you shouldn’t be making food. Ever.

Grade: D-

Beer

While listing the draft beers, the waitress had to slog her way through a lot of garbage before she got to Magic Hat #9, and with each one my soul died a little. All the usual suspects made an appearance, and none of them were good. At a certain point I just hear them as a single Uber–beer – a crap–tacular rice–stravaganza: Budbudlightmillermillerlightbusch. I give them credit for having both the aforementioned #9 and Oberon, but that’s just not nearly enough.

Grade: C-

Service

This one isn’t fair. I came in as part of an unexpected party of ten, split into four different tabs. She had her work cut out for her from the start. She was certainly pleasant, but she was stretched too thin for good service. It took a long time to get cashed out, and we had to ask a different server for the carryout container that she forgot. Maybe not completely her fault, but still not good service

Grade: C

Ambiance

OK. So – bad food, bad beer selection, and marginal service… got it. But this is where everything turns around, right? This is where the grade gets saved, right? RIGHT? Alas, no. City Limits is a bowling alley with an attached restaurant, and they completely waste that vibe. A bowling alley lounge ought to be some things and this place wasn’t any of them – it was too open, too bright, had too many TVs (including a couple giant ones that dominated the room), and too much activity.

Grade: D Saved from the F because it was clean. At least there’s that.

Grade: D I will admit that I was in a bit of a funk when I went to City Limits, but teasing apart where my pre–packaged funk ends and the funk heaped upon me by lousy food and bad atmosphere begins is fool’s labor. Ultimately a good restaurant would have wiped my mood clean. City Limits didn’t.

The quintessential campus pub, I generally steer clear of the place during the academic year. With the students now gone, however, I stopped in for one of their 70 draft beers and a burger.

Burger

The burger itself was a pre–formed patty but I found it reasonably flavorful and juicy. I suspect the onions contributed mightily to the overall effect as they were caramelized to perfection. Though notoriously difficult to accomplish when working with a patty, the cook at least tried to keep it medium. The pedestrian bun did the job and was nicely over–sized. Thick–cut fries… meh. Overall it felt like I was eating an Ashley’s burger – even with the pre–formed patty it had a personality all its own.

Grade: B+

Beer

You read that right up there… 70 beers on draft, and a waiter knowledgeable enough to navigate the treacherous waters of recommending a beer to me. Ashley’s presented a problem we’ve yet to encounter… how to choose a beer from such a diverse field of options? The bar menu really is something to see, and Ashley’s gets a recommendation for the contents of that alone.

Grade: A+

Service

As a blow–hard know–it–all you’d think I’d react badly when confronted with indisputable evidence of an ill–conceived statement – an error. You’d be right to do so, too, because I’m also a terrible loser and what is being wrong but losing. Sometime, however, I embrace my ignorance and bias, and such was the day today. Today I had a waiter and he was terrific. He totally knew his shit when it came to the beer and his recommendation was spot–on, his table–side manner was relaxed yet attentive, he was never far from the table but didn’t hover or linger, he even brought me my water. I stand corrected.

Grade: A

Ambiance

Like I said, Ashley’s is a campus pub. It has a good jukebox and dirty floors, tables carved with initials and the occasional expression of undying love and a dank bathroom. The walls are covered with beer taps not currently in use and beer bottles from around the world. It is not a high–end place. Though I generally prefer a darker older, less Old Town more Del Rio (r.i.p.) vibe, today it was exactly where I wanted to be. If I had to criticize something it’d be the small size. It’s awkward to navigate through the place (particularly in the evenings) and there are tables right up to the bar. That said, it was pretty empty when I was there – no harm, no foul

Grade: B

Grade: B+ This grade puts Ashley’s on par with ABC and I feel pretty ok about that. Ashley’s has more beer, but they’re not brewing it (and scant few of them are as good as what I enjoy at ABC). Ashley’s food is better, but still not quite A grade stuff. Ultimately, however, Ashley’s (like so many other bars around campus) suffers from atmospheric issues… fill the place with incoming freshmen and I want nothing to do with it. Right or wrong I’m sure a little PTSD is docking this review, but in spite of that Ashley’s remains a good place to go.

It’s official. All the months of hard work have paid off – in my small way I am a triathlete. I have completed my goal and it feels terrific. I’ve published pictures in a separate post – this one was too long as it was

The evening before the race was quiet and uneventful filled with tornado sirens and sideways rain – not the ideal conditions, particularly when the alarm is set for 3:45am. S and I set up an inflatable bed in the basement and hunkered down as best we could. As I tried to get to sleep I panicked about losing power, missing the alarm, and not making it to the race in time – all energy spent for naught… the alarm went off as planned and I dragged my ass out of bed (with S in tow who came along for support and to take pictures – lucky man, I am…) and to the race in time to be one of the first five competitors there.

Results

Time:

1:12:19

Position:

26th of 56 (in age group)

225th of 800* (overall)

Swim time:

8:58 (2:03 per 100, 17th in age group, 237th overall)

Transition 1:

3:51 (48th in age group, 560th overall)

Ride time:

30:31 (19.66 mph, 11th in age group, 112th overall)

Transition 2:

1:59 (37th in age group, 476th overall)

Run time:

27:01 (8:42 pace, 28th in age group, 296th overall)

* The field was limited to 800 participants, but I don’t know how many actually participated in the race. For those of you who are interested, the complete results may be found on the official results page.

Race Details

Swim

After the debacle of Friday, I was fairly nervous about the swim, the operative idea, of course, being the nerves. After bottoming out so badly just a couple days earlier I was justifiably concerned about whether I’d be able to harness my jitters and turn in a balanced perfomance. I was.

Though too distracted by the race atmosphere to listen to my pace song (Soul Coughing‘s Super Bon Bon. As they say, …move aside and let the man go through… ) for too long, it proved to be immensely helpful. I figured if I could control my cadence (and, by extension, my pace) through the first 100 meters then I’d be fine. As soon as my face hit the water I started humming my song and was able to settle into a good groove without issue. After that everything was gravy. I opted for the swarm start with my age group, staying near the back of the pack, and it was fine. I got a couple elbows and delivered a couple feet before the bodies thinned out enough for me to have my own chunk of the lake. The most uncomfortable part was having to rise up to sight my target – this is the twenty–first century, we should be able to paint course lines on the bottom of the lake by now. Sheesh – come on, people…

Ride

Since having my biking weakness exposed in March, the majority of my training has been on the bike. My bike fitness testing since then, however, has been non–existant – something always seems to be in the way of me and a repeatable test. Thankfully I’m not so fit that the testing matters too much – at this point more riding = greater fitness.

After crashing during my warmup (and in front of people, too – stupid bike clips) I took my time getting clipped in and up to pace. The people immediately in front of me were plodding along even more slowly, though, so I had the satisfaction of passing some people early on. It didn’t take long, however, for me to hear On the left as a quicker competitor made his way past me. And then another. Getting up to pace myself I decided to follow them for a bit.

We’d been comfortably tooling along for a mile or two when I checked my heart rate – 142. No, no, NO – this will not do! I thought to myself (anticipating a heart rate closer to 152 at that point in the race), and on the next flat I passed back the only two people that had passed me. After that the only people I saw in my rear–view mirror were those I’d passed falling behind. I kept my heart rate in range (if a little high) and cruised into transition two as happy as a lark.

Run

I had high expectations for the run, though no real goals in mind. As the last leg of a triathlon I didn’t know what was reasonable to expect – imagine my surprise when I officially recorded a personal best (my simulation a few weeks ago was neither officially measured nor timed)! The funny thing is, I never really felt comfortable and I was passed a lot on the course. I expected that though – triathlons are full of runners that have branched out via cross training into triathlon, and I’ve been running for, like, ten minutes now. Like I’ve said before – baby steps, people… baby steps…

The end of the race was noteworthy. 50 yards from the finish the course took a hard left toward the line. I’d been checking behind me but I didn’t see her coming up fast until the final turn. We bumped a bit as she passed me on the inside, there was an excuse me and I saw the back of her right shoulder. I remember thinking No way! before sprinting with everything I had (to which she responded) and for a couple seconds I wondered if my legs would even carry me. They did, and I passed her with plenty of room to spare. After getting passed in the final yards of my first 5K I was not about to let it happen again.

So. My first triathlon is complete. I had a great time, if not a perfect race. They’re right, them that say the things they do. A lot of questions get answered just by completing your first triathlon. For me I know what I need to do to manage my starting pace and I know what line I should take to get around the buoys more cleanly. I have a few adjustments to make to my bike and I know I need to concentrate on climbing power. I know I can’t let my running workouts lag behind – that balance in training is key. But most importantly I know that this was a terrific experience and I want to have it again. My next race is scheduled for July 11th. The swim is twice the distance I swam today, the ride and run are both 60% longer with more hills. The way I’m feeling right now those numbers could be doubled – I say Bring it on.