A few pictures from the run up into Yosemite National Park. More than one thousand feet of vertical gain in less than three miles. Boom.
A few pictures from the run up into Yosemite National Park. More than one thousand feet of vertical gain in less than three miles. Boom.

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” — Lao-tzu
- PR at Boston Marathon (sub 2:45) and make All-Navy Marathon Team
- Qualify for Team USA for Duathlon National Champs
- Fast enough Olympic time to qualify for All-Navy Tri Team (sub 2:05)
- Sub 4:30 at HIM race
- Qualify for 70.3 WC (and possibly Kona if I can do Eagleman)
- Get to Age Group Nationals and Qualify for 2014 World Champs
- Place top 10 overall at Duathlon World Champs (top 3 in age group)
- Win a multi-sport race
- Break 1hr for 40k in a tri
Here we go…

Long run yesterday, 3.5km swim the day before, I guess this snow means the long ride is going to be on the trainer. Hard work in winter yields fast racing in the summer.
Craig “Crowie” Alexander on why he deliberately seeks tough fields and championship races versus major pay days. Via Competitor Radio: http://competitorradio.competitor.com/2013/01/craig-alexander-5/
Is there any question why Crowie is ALWAYS the man to beat in Kona?
The long dark blue line and I are getting acquainted. Did a baseline test yesterday. 400m time trial; 2-3 minute recovery and then 200m time trial. 7:21 and 3:30.
I could use a thousand different excuses about why I didn’t swim as well as I should have, but the bottom line is that I’m going to be better and faster in a few weeks, so why waste time wallowing in excuses?
Catch. Pull. Kick.

It’s pretty straightforward; the numbers don’t lie. I just don’t have the hours under my belt. Looking at my training over the past year, I’m waaaay down compared to this same point last year. October-November ‘11 was my most consistent training volume in years and set the base for a number of good fall races. I struggled in February (low month) and then started building back up with quality training with the St Ives Elite from March into early June. April and May were my heaviest months and—not unsurprisingly—the months I really felt as though I was in the best shape. Runners constantly negotiate with themselves, trying to reason out good or bad performances, build up the psyche, and prep themselves for the next race. Sometimes though, we need a frank, honest asessement. This is it.
I am a science and engineer by trade, and so ultimately, my decisions are made based on data.What do the numbers say?I ask myself. Here, the answer is pretty simple. If I want to have a good spring season, I need more hours. Not hours for hours sake, but volume to build a more complete aerobic base and set myself up for the harder work which will come later. Time to get training.
This little part…is called ‘happyness’.
Will Smith as Christopher Gardner in ‘The Pursuit of Happyness’
Sometimes perspective comes only from crossing an ocean. The move back to the United States was one of the most stressful periods in my entire life. I’ve relocated my family, started a new job, purchased a home, and juggled a ridiculous work schedule. Triathlon, running, and hell—sometimes personal health—has effectively been an afterthought. It’s not something I wanted, but simultaneously it’s something I chose. So this ‘season’—or what’s left of it—has been about pressing the reset button.
I left England in the shape of my life. The June 2012 version of me would have crushed any historical version of myself without trouble and without remorse. But as the weeks passed, so too did the fitness. Months and months of consistent training decayed into a shotgun blast on a calendar—sporadic and uneven. So while I had flashes of that free flowing speed I remember; I’ve been forced to relearn the lesson: the hardest days as a runner are those spent getting slower, not the ones spent getting faster.

Near mile 12 at the Lehigh Valley Marathon—job done and Boston Marathon bound!
In college, I would have tried to eschew sleep and train on. But stress is stress is stress. Your body doesn’t care if it comes from work, illness, or the 1km repeats you did that morning. It’s no surprise then I spent so much of my college years wallowing in mediocrity and underperforming in any race for which I did not deliberately taper. The big weeks only came good as I worked in appropriate rest. As the saying goes, you can’t be over-trained, just under-recovered.
So it’s about pressing the reset button and enjoying the process. At the Annapolis 10-Mile, I reconnected with my old team and pulled on a Navy jersey for the first time in 5 years. The five mile split was shockingly slow, but the turn around brought a strange lightness to my step. I had forgotten what “Navy” means in this town.
The next 5 miles was not so much a run as a parade. Eight thousand runners streaming the opposite direction, screaming, cheering, and hollering, “Go Navy!” Fatigue, fitness, and pace quickly became irrelevant. It was about honoring the jersey.
Al Cantello, the Navy XC coach, once told a group of us assembled as freshman about the strange and unique honor of pulling on the blue and gold singlet for the first time. It didn’t dawn on me then, but the name on the jersey transcends the name of the runner.
In the weeks since, I’ve slowly been realizing some fitness. My runs and bikes have been steady, if unspectacular, but the cumulative effect is apparent. I ran a second race with the team, punching my ticket for Boston 2013 with a comfortable, controlled effort at the Lehigh Valley Marathon.
And so I’ll move forward, same as ever. Bulding fitness, enjoying the ride. I’m progressing and that is the only thing which matters. Soon it will be time to express it.
Manuel ‘Manny’ Huerta after clinching an Olympic spot at the 2012 ITU World Series Triathlon in San Diego
Express your fitness—Simon Whitfield
So I was pretty frustrated with this week considering I had a pretty substantial block of training before that. But, the realities of work and extra hours meant that it wasn’t realistic for me to get in extra hours over the weekend. A 2:37 marathon seemed near impossible. But, while I was driving into one of those extra work days, I tuned into Competitor Radio interviewing Simon Whitfield—two time Olympic medalist and one of my favorite triathletes of all time. Whitfield talked about his motto going into the Beijing games, which was to simply, ‘express his fitness’. No expectations about time, no expectations about place, just run the best race you can and let that sort out where you finish. In 2008, it meant an Olympic Silver Medal.
Monday 4/30: Easy 4.5 mile run—still nursing the sore Achilles. Nothing crazy.
Tuesday 5/1: AM-Easy 4.5 mile run; PM- Easy 4.5 mile run. Skipped a track session to rest the Achilles again. I think it’s OK, but I didn’t think getting up on my toes for a mile repeat session was going to be the smartest thing for it.
Wednesday 5/2: Easy 5 again. Achillies still a little sensitive.
Thursday 5/3: 20 miles ride
Friday 5/4: 5 mi as 1 mi w/up, 5k tempo (17:20), 1 mi cool down
Saturday 5/5: Off (work)
Sunday 5/6: Off (work)
Week Two and post Whitfield interview—workouts started getting better.
Monday 5/7: 25 mile ride, few reps with some bigger gear work
Tuesday 5/8: 12.5 mile easy run
Wednesday 5/9: Easy 5 mile run
Thursday 5/10: Track session with DC. 5x 800m @5km goal pace: 2:34, 2:34, 2:34, 2:34, 2:33. Easy 200m jog recovery. Dave did 4x hurdles on each lap for the steeple. Moving!
Friday 5/11: Easy 4 mile run
Saturday 5/12: 15 miles run through the mud and muck w/ Mike
Sunday 5/13: AM—15 mile progressive run w/ DC and Kye—averaged 6:30-ish pace, but closed last 5 miles in close to 6 min pace. PM—Easy 6 miles
Manny Huerta, a Cuban-American refugee who fled to the US with his mother at the age of 13, crossed the finish line at the ITU San Diego World Series race in 9th place, earning a spot on the American Olympic team. I stayed up late to watch the race, and the camerman caught the significance of the moment, eschewing on opportunity to film the race leader slapping backs and shaking hands to walk over and catch Huerta’s reaction. You could hear this incredible release of emotion as Huerta hugged his coach, his fellow athletes, and the other Americans in the race. It was that deep, gutteral sobbing that only comes out during raw, unfettered release of emotion. I haven’t found a good video of it yet, but Huerta spent the next half hour sprinting back and forth in front of the crowd waving an enormous American flag. Here is his story. See you in London, Manny.