Devotion:: TheAgony

Ever since being tagged with the moniker of AGONY from the Pax of F3, I have seen this word pop up all over the place. Then Lindsay's devotion had this in it by Max Lucado

"I'm not in the business of coincidences"

Hebrews 12:1 

“Let us run the race that is before us and never give up.” 

The word race is from the Greek agon, from which we get the word agony.  The Christian’s race is not a jog but a rather demanding and grueling, sometimes agonizing race.  It takes a massive effort to finish strong.
Likely, you’ve noticed that many don’t? Surely you’ve observed there are many on the side of the trail?  They used to be running.  There was a time when they kept the pace.  But then weariness set in.  They didn’t think the run would be this tough...
By contrast, Jesus’ best work was his final work, and his strongest step was his last step.  Our Master is the classic example of one who endured…He could have quit the race.  But He didn’t.

F3 Metro Journey:: SixPack, Some HolyWater & Coffee

Two days after the MudRun, I figured it was time to break open a six pack.

Monday

#DMZ

Q: Field of Dreams

HRMCalCount: NA

My Moleskin: Having just completed the MudRun, my body was sore; but Field of Dreams led us out onto the football field; 13 years of football training had taught me that once you cross that white line you leave it all on the field.

Tuesday

#WIB

Q: Waco

HRMCalCount: 895

My Moleskin: This was the second hardest F3 workout I have done.  That evening, I had read that "a man longs for an #elder, a man who goes ahead of him to show him that it can be done, and a #brother, a peer who will struggle alongside him."  This captures my workout as DREDD got ahead of me to lead me into a realm I did not know could be accomplished, and Swiper was the buddy in the trenches pushing me.

Wednesday

#Ranger

Q: Ben Franklin

HRMCalCount: 835
Backblast 

My Moleskin: This workout will go down in the annals of F3 as 23 PAX split off to form a Ranger2.0 workout.  At the second stop of 20 burpees, I made the strategic move to saddle up next to the Q, which meant, I was stuck being the flesh-anchor of the remaining 8 PAX.

Wednesday

#Smokey (3rdF workout)

Q: Swiper

W/O:  Esther and Pride

My Moleskin: Good reminder that pride creeps into our life when we take the good things in life and focus on how they will glorify us and not God.

Thursday

#Bastion

Q: Sauerkraut

HRMCalCount: 751

My Moleskin:  Not sure of Sauerkraut's baking skills as his Triple Layer cake with a cherry on top seemed to get top-heavy as we built it out.  But enjoyable FNG Bastion outing, and he had us going that the workout went by faster than any before.  Looked down and my watch read 42 minutes when I thought we had probably gone 28.

Thursday

#Yardstick (3rdF workout)

Q: Brautworst

W/O:  How good is good enough?

My Moleskin:  Talked about that our belief in Christ has to be an all or nothing-if you want to be intellectually honest.  Either He is Lord or not.  We added a forth category to Lewis' famous Lord, Lunatic, Liar where other people were just making this up about Him.  Made me realize how rampant that is in our academies and churches-as if we can dismiss bodily resurrection and miracles as quaint metaphors and still have a robust Christian faith.

Friday

#Fortress

Q: Coach

HRMCalCount: 732

My Moleskin:  Large PAX out this AM, but a good workout burn.  The Shop-Till-You-Drop of Jump Squats, adding 2 more at each store, sounded like nothing.  But I literally went from the front of the pack to holding up the PAX by the end of them; #FOF!  EHed an FNG.

Saturday

#Mustang

Q: Gandalf & Show

HRMCalCount: 1105

My Moleskin: By the end of this journey, I was glad to be able to sleep in until 6:15...then I realized this was gonna be an hour long pain session.  Good thing that the PAX was filled with some vocal mumblechatterers.  Headed over to the Caribou Coffeeteria for a great 2ndF time with my brothers; 10 months into this brotherhood and I have discovered what true men are like.

Aye brothers! On to the next adventure.  

Race Recap: US Marine Corp Mud Run

My usual recaps start at the starting line...not the night before.  But the sheer fact that I never fell asleep before this race seems worth noting.  All my other races, I have tossed and turned, and watched the clock wind down, so I know that sleep the night before is a tedious endeavor, and not necessary.  But never had I stayed up the entire night before.  This night I got desperate enough to try to go sleep in my hammock in the backyard. As I settled in though, and heard rustling in the bushes...suddenly my heart rate peaked at 182bpm and I knew sleep was utterly pointless.

By 4:50am I arrived at the AG staging area.  Sleeplessly greeting my new teammates of Kirk, Santa Maria & Doobie, as my original team had disintegrated over the summer.

Mistake #1:  I left my recently purchased gloves at home.  Thankfully the generous PAX of F3 responded, and SpookyJohn provided an extra pair.

Mistake #2:  I fell asleep on the three seater back row of the bus, only to quickly become the doorman to a traveling-port-a-john.  Too many men with too much coffee filled with cliffbars!

As we unloaded the bus, grouped up with the F3 men, signed our life away on the waivers, and filed through the chutes the sheer view of 250+ F3 PAX said that this event was gonna be different than any other race I'd done.  Having never done an obstacle race and having never been around military personnel, I wasn't sure what to expect.

But team "Bringing the Juice" took off full of smiles, until we hit the first obstacle.

#1--Interestingly, it appeared to me that as I approached the 3 different 5 foot walls that each one was shorter, but amazingly more difficult to clear.  So began the mental and physical aspect of this race.

From there we came across a member of the PAX who had lost his shoe deep in the sludge, and spent two minutes digging out an unseeable shoe.  Now I understood the "mud" was not going to be like a rainy run in McAlpine park, but a thick, sole-sucking (or more aptly, soul-sucking) mess.

Hitting the 5th obstacle--the rope swing--was my favorite as it brought back memories of swinging across a creek in my childhood home...sure wish I signed up for a Spartan Race where that woulda probably have wrapped up the event, given me a javeline to toss and a medal.

But this was the Marine Corp Mud Run so we continued on to the 6th obstacle...8 logs dipped into watery mud, and one loud marine shouting "if you touch the logs I will penalize you.  Get in there and get under."  Not the usual hand-holding-kumbya-love I get from the ministry, so I dove deep into the mud...with my eyes open.  As I pushed through the mud smiling and trying not to drink the mess, I thought this race was gonna be awesome...then came Mistake #3: Contacts.

Coming out of the water, my contacts fogged over and from that point on I had a large piece of mud stuck to my right contact for the rest of the race, which irritated my eye for the next hour and I could not see a thing out of it.  With limited depth perception, the race became interesting as I relied on my teammates to direct where best to hit the obstacles.

Hitting the 13th obstacle, a ridge trail run I finally felt back in my element: sprinting up the hills, and recalling the joy of running the BlueRidgeRelay.  Here is where I passed a friend who would be doing the Chicago Marathon the very next day...ugh, I felt bad for him...but at least got to stretch out my legs and run a bit.

And that was quickly taken away from me as we approached some contraption with inverted monkey bars, and a wall to pull yourself over.  Having no clue how to go forward, I leaned on my teammate to help asking Kirk to pull me over.  But Kirk sat dangling to my left trapped at the same spot, so we both waited for Doobie and Santa Maria to come to our rescue.  It was then that on my otherside a chick proceeded to onearm snag the handhold and flip herself up.  #humbled

Up next came the Grinders.  These telephone poles covered in mud and varying between 5 feet and 12 feet (well they felt that high at least) were tricky.  I jumped on the first one, hugging it tightly, when gravity took over and I began to roll...back the way I started.  Landing flat on my back, I realized I had to do it over.  The Grinders won my least favorite obstacle (especially when they were duplicated .25mi later).

From there we began to chug up sand hills, the middle of the race became a mix of waterholes, mud trenches, logs, and mud.

Somewhere around there was a pit with a rope that you had to pull yourself down, with your legs wrapped around the rope.  Mistake #4: Not wearing high socks per Mutiny's advice.  Rope burn, coupled with sand, grit and mud cut up most of my legs.

So when I jumped into a warm mudpit later and could feel the burning and tingling sensation, I just assumed that was what a staph-infection feels like.

It was here that I heard a loving couple arguing with each other as she complained about him kicking mud in her face, and his thoughtful response, "sweetie this is called a mudrun."

Pushing on, our team cleared a 10' high wall with pure teamwork of communicating and executing.  This opened up a decent gap for us, so that for most of the rest of the race we had clear access to the obstacles.

Passing under the cargo-net into a sandpit felt like the months of bear-crawls in Freedom Park's volleyball court...which made me realize that F3 perfectly prepares you for the different obstacles of this race.  And the #mumblechatter of Dredd allowed me to tune out the screaming marines.

Then I met the marine at the final wall climb.  Coming out of the mud-pit (me on the right), I was jogging up the hill as a marine yelled, "no one walks up my hill.  get up here now..." Completing his obstacle and heading away, he shouted, "with that weak of performance, you probably should sign up for the 'AirForce' mud run next year."  I suddenly realized why I never entertained joining the military.

Gassed...we came to the Arm Walk obstacle.  Having watched the training videos, 24 hours before the race (perhaps that's why I did not sleep--video below), I knew how to complete this obstacle.  With a shoulder injury suffered on the grid-iron of COED, non-contact, seminary flag football 10 years ago, however, I struggled to get across this obstacle, which began my slow demise for the rest of the race.



Knowing that our final obstacle was the 100 yard fireman carry, however, we gritted it out.  Then near the finish, Kirk gave out our final command to pass one last team and break through the finish line together:

1:09.something

Once I dug the contact out of my eye, showered three times in one day, nourished myself with a ChiliCheeseburger from Rush's, slept for 11 1/2 hours straight, and watched the Panthers finally win, I've been able to reflect on the greatness of this MudRun that bonds men into a team, pushes you mentally, and causes your body to hate you the next day.



Official results in:
1:09:47
36th Men's Team
27th F3 Team
Only two COED teams beat-us...one musta been the woman who strongarmed that contraption.

Race Recap::Blue Ridge Relay 2013

As the clock declared 6:25, and the van began to pull out of Myers Park Methodist's parking, I was handed a 2 inch binder with directions and a laminated card with our split times written on it.  It was precisely at that moment that I realized why I love F3...here were 6 men that left early and had logistically prepared for the challenge of running 208 miles within 31 hours, harnessing our type-A, GSD personalities.  So began the perfect convergence of everything I love as we heading off for the Blue Ridge Relay.

After a ruckus pre-race dinner at Chili's, where our table of 6 men 35 years old+ were espousing the benefits of Twitter while a table of high school cheerleaders mocked Twitter next to us, we grabbed our final few hours of sleep before the next 48 hours of running, (not)sleeping, and fellowship began.

At 7:30am, our team arrived at the top of the mountain in Virginia to begin the long journey to downtown Asheville.  The basic structure of the BRR is this: 9 runners (or 6/12 depending on your level of sanity) rotate through 36 legs ranging in severity from 2.2 miles downhill to 10.1 uphill.  As one person runs, the van with all the other runners sprints ahead to setup the next runner at a transition zone where the just completed smelly, sweaty, and sore runner is thrown into a van to repeat.  This occurs over the next 208 miles and 30+ hours.

Out in the early morning, we met other teams who would read that above paragraph and say, "Sign me up and let me pay you $200+ to do this."  Having varied between large marathons and small half-marathon trial races, I have determined there are a "certain" type of men and, especially, women who are drawn to these races.

4 short hours later, my turn arrived.

Leg 5: 

"If that was moderate, then it's gonna suck for you mountain goats."

Distance: 5 miles through West Jefferson.  

Having been crammed in the van watching 4 other runners race, I went out of the gates strong...too strong as I blew downhill in a sub 6:30 mile and a quarter.  I know that if my HR hits over 180bpm it begins a slow leak; and I accomplished this 184bpm within the first 10 minutes.

As I ran along a shoulder on a four lane highway into West Jefferson, I heard a car approaching behind me and honking.  Assuming it was my team cheering me on, I gave them a double fist-pump and F3 approved "AYE!"  Only to discover it was a "mountain woman" who skillfully pulled around me while  giving me the finger and holding her cigeratte in her claw at the same time.

The final stretch was purely uphill at 7% grade, and as I hit the exchange zone the first gasp out of my mouth was: "If that was moderate, then its gonna suck for you mountain goats."

And so I have affectionately named each of these legs after the first words my tired body exhaled.

Time: 35:18

Pace: 7:03

Kills: 1

Leg 14:

"the RealDeal"

Distance:  10.1 miles to the base of Grandfather Mountain.

Leg 14 was the section I was most excited about.  Ten miles uphill to the base of Grandfather mountain.  This was a scenic climb passing waterfalls, a dude dressed up as Wonderwoman, overlooks, the BlueRidge Parkway and a van full of "The RealDeal" women stretching their glutes at the crest of ridge.  This run was when it moved from light to darkness, which caused a strange sensation as my final two miles were in complete darkness minus the 3 feet illuminated by my head lamp.  Within the enveloping darkness my steps seemed shorter.  But ultimately I reached the transition zone,

Time:  1:24.00

Pace: 8:23

Kills: 6

Leg 23

"Did you hear that ghost train"

Distance: 5.6 miles in the dark

Leg 23 was the section I was least prepared for...because of the mental challenge of running in the fog, on a dirt road, in the mountains, for 5.6 miles at 2:30am.  Huddled up with another F3 group, I knew I was about to get passed by their team, so I took off like a shot into the foggy darkness, only to be passed by Bunny in the first mile.  As his blinking light disappeared into the fog in front of me, I came to a crossroads.  Convinced that the first turn was a left, I started to sprint off to the left, when a van pulled up and honked..."Runner, Runner...oh its you Agony...wrong way."  At 2:30am in the utter darkness, they quite literally saved me from being a lost, sobbing mess, down some dirt stumbling upon a methlab.

But after setting my feet in the correct direction,  they too disappeared into the darkness, leaving me running along a dirt road.  Due to the fog I had turned off my headlamp and used a small hand light that illumined 2 feet in front of me.  I couldn't see anything, when suddenly a slow grinding metallic noise started to crescendo.  It was such a loud sound of a train--whose lights I could not see--that I swore it was barrelling down upon me.  But just as quick as it appeared, it too disappeared leaving my ears ringing.

In the end, I was glad to finish this leg.

Time: 47:53

Pace: 8:33

Kills: 4

Killed: 1 (Bunny)

Leg 32:

"Beer me"

Distance:  9.6 miles downhill

By 9:00am the next morning, I had re-energized by being around friends and fellow F3ers at the Pancake Church, and was eager to complete my mission.  I got to run straight downhill for 9+ miles.  This was a glory run as I could open up my legs and haul allowing gravity to do the work.  Then just as I hit the flat part of the run, there were other runners within striking distance giving me a mental game to try and pick them off one by one.

Hitting the transition zone and handing off, I stumbled off to my left and into a creekbed.  I had run that leg with Snickers bar in my shorts pocket that had melted and then resolified through the coolness of the creek.  While  simultaneously chomping on that treat, two runners from RockHill blessed me with a Yuengling.  Never has there been a more glorious moment than drinking a beer in a mountain creek with a snickers...until Today hollered at me so we could go pick up Silent Bob after his Mountain Goat Hard run.

Time: 1:06.18

Pace: 6:56

Kills: 3

Killed: 1

Total Stats

Distance: 30.1 Miles

Time: 3:53:29

Pace: 7:44

Kills: 14

Killed: 2

Chicked: 0

Getting to enjoy the scenery and the fellowship with the men of F3 and other teams we came across--like theRealDeals, RedHot Ultra Mamas, Wasson&Brinleys Team--along with pushing my body to a new level of adventure and extreme has made for me the BlueRidge Relay the best time of my life (excluding my wedding, kids birth, and yadayadayada all those other important dates too).  

Hike Recap

While you can drive up to the top of Mt. Evans, I parked at the Summit Lake area for a 2 mile hike up and 1 mile hike down. The elevation change was about 2000ft to top out at 14,270ft.

Going around the lake, I quickly began to climb to the summit of Mt. Spaulding.  On the way up, I caught and passed about 7 other hikers.  As we chatted, they nicknamed me "Speedy" and were impressed that a flatlander from North Carolina caught them. 

From the summit of Spaulding, I dipped down onto the ridge to Mt. Evans. By this time I was trekking alone once again.  Also the trail disappeared and so I started having to follow the cairns.  It's here that Speedy got caught by a young coed who led me astray atop the mountain.

Crossing the ridge, I circled back to civilization to climb the final couple of hundred yards with the "tourists"-those folks who drove to the summit and claim they climbed a 14er by hiking the final 100ft up hill.

Atop the summit I was able to enjoy a PB&J and have devotion time.  Then I heard one teenager exclaim, "This would be a kick as place for quiet time.  Look, that man over there is reading his Bible."

On the return trip I passed the tourist trap area to find my trail down...unfortunately I missed the trail head. So my return trip was bushwhacking down the side.  Halfway down, I could see people easily trekking down the designated path and so had to begin traversing over there. 

Memory Lane: An Uptown Run

Friday night I stayed packing up my office after six years of ministry with First Presbyterian Church of Charlotte.  Called there in the summer of 2007, I remember touring the campus with Dr. Wood as he pointed to the skyline of Charlotte's emerging uptown condos while we discussed the tremendous opportunity to reach out and share the gospel in this city.

After loading the last box, I decided I would do one last uptown run.  This zig-zag map hit some of the highlights of my uptown ministry.

1)  I ran to the apartment Ellie, Lindsay and I shared when we first arrived.  Wanting to be "Uptown Cool" we found a fully furnished condo with concrete floors and brick walls.  The only problem...I found the condo on craigslist and never toured the place, so the "one bedroom" apartment actually was one giant room because the 12 foot walls did not reach the 18 foot ceilings.  This meant that 6 month old Ellie's cries, or my watching the Panther's lose was audible throughout the entire condo.
Not to mention the Subway across the hall so we would awake to the smell of Asiago Cheese-bread.

2)  Then I ran through Elmwood cemetery, were I had the opportunity to officiate a funeral.  Running among headstones, I was also able to connect with families and names in the city who have touched my ministry.

3)  Huffing past the Gateway YMCA and on down to Ray's Splash Planet, I recalled the Wednesday night runs I was introduced to by Kevin Griffith as my daughter practiced choir.  As well as the #RichieRun of F3.

4)  Heading off the trail, I went past the 3rd Ward home where we had a staff retreat last year when we anxiously wondered who the new person to lead FPC would be.

5)  Passing through the campus of Johnson and Wales, I remembered meeting students on moving week and welcoming them to Charlotte.

6)  Then I turned off to visit the old condo of good friends--the Smithwicks.

7)  By now I discovered something new--the tunnel to Bank of American Stadium.  Realizing I will lose the benefits of free parking for Panther games, I started scouting how I could get to the games.

8)  As Catalyst, Avenue and Trademark came into Vue, I thought about each of the members and visitors and young adults I had met over the years.

9)  And then finally, I went past the old sights for Theology on Tap (or after the Catholics sued me Untapped Theology): Cans, Feast, Press.

The run was an encouragement to see how my ministry had touched many different parts of this 4.25 mile run.

And how God is sending me off into a new (ad)venture in the same town!

F3: Confessions of an Adventure Junkie

Confessions of an Adventure Junkie

Last fall I ran the Savannah Marathon for my third marathon; upon crossing the finish line I felt the exhilarating feeling of disappointment.

The fall before that I completed my first Half-Ironman, and as I hit the finish line I saw that my wife eye’s were filled with pride and amazement at my accomplishment, but I just wobbled away amotional.

The summer before that I climbed two 14ers in Colorado in one day, but looked wistfully at a beautiful lake across the valley, wondering how could I get there instead...

click here for full story

My other F3 stories can be accessed here

1/6/2012--Cashiers--Soloblast

Q and Pax: Agony

The workout--
Trial run up Rock Mountain trail at Sunset
At top:
SSH x birth age (33)
Burpees x faith age (17)
Mericans x years married to an amazing M. (10)
Meg Ryans x each 2.0, 2.1.1, 2.1.2, 2.1.3
Trail run home in the darkness

Moleskin:
-I have run that trial many times, and began hiking it at age six. Though I know each turn, each switchback, each slippery rock, every time I crest the summit, God reminds me of something new. Sitting and watching the sunset, I felt compelled to count off the major blessings He has given me as the sun poured over the top of the horizon.

-I have bought into this F3 logic fully as I see how these three things are critical in my life. Thanks to the men who had been working on me to get involved with the f3nation, these last 6 weeks have been life affirming. Though I scoffed at first as I ran and cycled alone in the gloom wondering just who the hell these guys at freedom park were. I have come to discover that they, like me, are men just working our tails off trying to be men to our families, our spouses, our kids, our callings and our God.

Ellie: Triathlon Race Report (2nd of season)

I Loved the Triathlon.


My favorite Part of the Triathlon is Swimming

Dad Walked Beside me Well I Biked

Ava Ran Beside me well I Ran

HalfIronman Recap

It all began as a dream...
...which was brutally interrupted at 4:30am by my alarm clock, as I had to prepare to drive down to Anderson, SC for the race.

Arriving at the race sight at 6am, I had to set out my Transition 2 gear, grab a bus, and head over to the lake. Seated next to another first time Half-Ironmanner, we nervously complained about the length of the swim. I shared that my favorite was the run, and he mistakenly took me for a former cross country runner.
At the second transition sight, I shoved myself into the borrowed wetsuit and headed down to the water's edge. With the official water temperature being 62 degrees, I figured it better not to do a warmup swim but just go in "cold." After the pros took off, it was our turn.
Standing in group of probably 50 guys, there was a gentlemen with just one arm, and a paddle attached to his second arm, just in front of me in the corral. Impressed by his grit (and curious how he was going to do the bike), I was ready when the airhorn blared.
The swim went relatively smooth. The buoyancy of the wetsuit helped tremendously as a moved through the water. I wasn't first, but could also tell I was not last. When I came within 200 yards of the shore, I looked over and saw the first pink swim cap pass me. We got a 10 minute head start on the ladies, but I was still impressed with the overall time of 38 minutes on a 1.2 mile swim. That was far faster than I was averaging on my training swims in a pool. So I give all the credit to the wetsuit.
As I jogged into my transition area, I realized one flaw to my training. I never practiced taking off the wetsuit. Now that posed a difficult challenge. Eventually, I got the suit off, and bike clothes on and out the T1 area in 4 minutes 50 seconds. Clearly something I needed to work on.
The bike course began with a five mile straight up hill. I churned through the first few miles, when I started to feel the wind. I knew this bike ride was going to be a long, windy and hilly ride. There were times in the ride when my entire bike was pushed over. The first 15 miles where a constant up and down, with a few hard climbs. By mile 15, we passed through what they warned us to be a treacherous curve. As I came down the curve, I noticed a biker on the opposite shoulder pulling branches off of his back. At the bottom of the decent, they had said the climb out was the worst climb of the ride. I quickly got over the climb, and mistakenly thought if that was the worse climb of the day this should not be so bad.
Calculating my times, I was surprised at how slow I was going. In the shorter sprint races, I was usually able to get past a few racers on the bike. Today, though I was being passed frequently. Twice my chain dropped, and once I stopped thinking I had dropped it to the inside, which turned out not to be the case.
At mile 30, however, my knee--which I had injured on a previous 60 mile ride, started to get sore. The injury would only bother me when I was going uphill on the bike. So I pressed on. From miles 30-45 the course was fairly flat, but the knee with each pedal stroke was getting more and more painful. Around mile 50, though came the final big climb. I mistakenly thought standing up out of my saddle would get my knee into a better position. This was actually the worst position and it buckled under me. For a moment I thought I was going to have to disembark and push the bike up hills. But slowly (8-9mph) I would pedal my way up the hills and coast down the other side, I started to worry that I might not be able to run. So I drug myself over the final 6 miles. And at the final turn into T2 saw Lindsay, Ellie and the boys waving and cheer. This sight gave me a new boost of energy.
As I hit the dismount line, I kicked my leg over the bike seat...and my leg would not get over it. So I stumbled off the bike, and fell into a spectator who graciously caught me and my bike and righted me.
Running down to my bike rack, I noticed that the folks around me, miss racked their bikes, and I was slow on the bike I had not place to put my bike. Jamming my bike between two others, I put on my running shoes and headed out. Immediately, I could tell my knee would not be an issue on the run.
I had completed the swim and the bike in 4hours, 6 minutes. The bike taking 10 minutes longer than I had expected, but the swim went by much faster. So I started calculating in my head that if I kept a sub 9 mile pace, I actually could break a 6 hour race. The first 4 miles I was running 8:13-8:48 miles. Then the race turned us from the convention center onto Anderson's main drag and into downtown. With each mile my pace dropped off, and at mile 8 it dropped from a 9:06 to a 9:46. From that point in I knew finishing in under 6 hours was not going to be an option, and that I would miss it by 3 minutes or so.
In the final stretch, I turned down the main convention center drag, and was surprised to see that they had us do one more, uphill loop. As I made the turn to climb this final loop at mile 12.9, I hear "Wes!" and wonder how in the world does that race official know my name. Turns out the family had been standing 10 feet from me shouting my name 6 times, I was so out of it and annoyed that they would have us climb one last hill, I blocked out even their encouragement.
At 13 mile mark, and .1 miles from the finish, I grabbed Ellie and had her run to the finish line with me. With pure joy we crossed.
As the race volunteers approached my daughter and my bent-over-self, I watch them give her my medal...and I think to myself, that was nice of them, but what a cheap rubber medal they are giving us. Then I saw a second volunteer bring over a nice, heavy metal medal, and put it over my head. Ah, much better.
The volunteers wisked Ellie away to get her a bottle water and to bring me one as well.
From that moment on, if I stood up Ellie stood with me, if I took a sip of water, she sipped hers, when I sat down on the asphalt she was by my side. I think we have found another racer in the Barry family.

So the question remains, would I do another one. Hearing the amount of people complain about the wind and the hilliness of the bike course, and how close I was to the 6 hour mark. I do see another race at some point, with a fully healed knee, and a flat beachfront course.

Whoever, this Revolution3 group is they run one heck of a race and a family friendly one at that.

Save the time and scroll to 8:50 to see me finish.

REV3 Triathlon SOUTH CAROLINA 2011 - Age Group Recap from REVOLUTION3 Triathlon on Vimeo.

*I would note that the video is sliced up so not all finishers are in their correct order. Plus many of them ran the Olympic distance and not the 70.3...if you catch my drift.

From Bermuda to Bootyville

Redneck Bike Stand

Marking Off the Bucket List at Age 10

Outside Magazine had 51 things to do before you die,
Number 11, Go to Havasu Falls in the Grand Canyon and jump.
Thanks to a family vacation, Check.

100 miles down, 50 to go.

Bootyville

Please help me make a difference in the fight against cancer

I recently accepted the challenge of participating in 24 Hours of Booty. 24 Hours of Booty conducts annual 24 hour cycling events, which increase public awareness and support for cancer research and programs, while raising funds to support the LANCE ARMSTRONG FOUNDATION and local cancer organizations. I am asking you to help by supporting my fundraising efforts with a donation. Your tax-deductible gift will make a real difference in the cancer community. It is faster and easier than ever to support me as a 24 Hours of Booty participant - you can make your donation online by simply clicking on the link at the bottom of this message. If you would prefer, you can also send your tax-deductible contribution to the address listed below. Any amount you can give, great or small, helps in the fight against cancer. I greatly appreciate your support and will keep you posted on my progress! Click here to visit my personal page. If the text above does not appear as a clickable link, you can visit the web address: http://www.24hoursofbooty.org/goto/wbbarry Click here to view the team page for Spoke N Mirrors If you no longer wish to receive email messages sent from your friends on behalf of this organization, please click here or paste this URL into your browser: http://www.24hoursofbooty.org/site/TellFriendOpt?action=optout&toe=a14e7fedf531b87a52e227754e35c3b92170ed0537ccf32cebcbc7435140ece1 24 Hours of Booty | 233 South Sharon Amity, Box 270 | Charlotte, North Carolina 28277 | 704-365-4417 | toll free: 877-365-4417 Click here to forward this message. Click here to change your email preferences.

Trail Racing: ASC Greenway Half-Marathon

I completed one of my goals for the year...ran two races this year.  I figured I needed to go ahead and accomplish this one before the triplets arrive.

I had circled this half-marathon race as an option but could never find any publicity about it.  But at a Wednesday Worship service, I ended up talking with one of the race coordinators.  Turned out they had changed this into a "Recession Race."

$10 entry fee, no t-shirts, no prizes, no corporate sponsors.  

Ended up being abut 100 men and women meeting out on a rain soaked trail...and it was awesome.

At the 3/4 mile mark there was a rain swollen creek, and you had choice--walk across the swinging bridge or run through the 2 1/2 foot deep creek.  I chose the creek.

Around mile 2.5, my right toe located a hidden tree stump and I took my one and only fall...okay, okay, it as a little root.

From mile 3 through 8, we were on a single-track mountain biking trails, twisting and turning, rising and falling.  What is amazing about trail running is that I figured I was hauling and setting a PR pace...my watch later reflected that I was nearly a full minute off my road race pace.  I think the turns and the twists give you an illusion of speed, as you have to mentally slow down as not to trip over hidden tree stumps (see mile 2.5).

Mile 9 was mile 4 for the 8k race, and by the time we reached it the 8kers had turned this into a 100 yards of pure, shoe sucking mud.  Twice I nearly pulled out of my shoes the mud was so thick.

And the final stretch brought us around a nice scenic lake, which gave you the false impression that it would be flat and an easy finish.  Nope.  Around mile 11, I nearly puked and was holding onto a tree.  But I finished the race...

in 1:57:04.

Updated:  Turns out I finished 21st, and missed placing 3rd in my age group by 2 minutes and 20 seconds.  of course there were only 4 in my age group...but it all depends on how you look at it.  

Excellence Triathlon

Taking on a new adventure, I ran (and swam and biked) my first triathlon this past weekend.
It was a sprint race: 400meter swim, 20k bike ride, and 5k run.
While I was the most nervous about the swim, it actually went really smoothly. The bike on the otherhand was an interesting challenge because I could never quite find the right the gear.
When it came time to run, I hopped off the bike and it felt as though my feet were lead weights. Turns out, howver, I ran a 7:19/mile pace--one of my fastest times ever.
Hmm, onto the next adventure...