I'm Brandon Sneed. This is my blog. It's basically an online notebook where I highlight good writing, storytelling, journalism and other acts of creativity, and explore how such things are made.
So, a year ago this time, I was trying to make myself better but killing myself in the process. Or so it felt. So strongly I felt I was dying sometimes that I so often used the term "killing myself" or some variation thereof that an angry reader scolded me for being so careless and glib about, you know, death.
Sorry, I said. But there were some days where I truly felt like I was dying.
Okay, that was probably an exaggeration. But in the moment? Yeah, maybe I did feel that a little. But mostly because I was kind of a wimp.
When I went to visit my uncle last summer, a few months after triathlon stuff ended for me, he asked me, "Dude, what were you thinking?"
It was a good journalism project, I blabbered, and it got me in shape, and ... yeah. Now though, I'm with him. What the heck was I thinking?
I used to be jacked. Ripped. Diesel. I’d walk around in wife-beaters and go jogging shirtless and enjoy how the heads would turn. I know. Vainglory at its finest.
Anyway, as my baseball career faded out about a year ago, so did the desire to lift weights. I quit working out. I kept eating Bojangles and Chik-Fil-A. And I got, well, kinda fat.
I tried getting back in the gym, but it bored me. I tried running, but it hurt.
I gave up.
Then I started training for this triathlon, and felt as though what muscle I had was falling off. (It wasn't really, but I’m a headcase. But that's a blog post for another time.)
Now though, five months later, I’m happy with how I look. My muscles aren’t what they used to be, but my health and fitness is at a peak. Everyone comments on how skinny I’ve gotten.
Through all this changing of body types, I discovered: We look like what we do, which is determined by what we want.
Before triathlon, I wanted (1) to look good but mostly (2) to be better at baseball. Now, I want to stay in shape. So I train. I work out. And nah, I’m not Mr. Muscles anymore, but I’m happy. (That said, I’m going to get my old weights down here sometime soon because my shirts feel like they are falling off of me now. But that’s not really related.)
You can apply the concept across the board. Hang out with people who want to just lay around and drink beer and don’t like exercise—pretty much how I’d become when I wasn’t working—and you’ll get fat and out of shape. It’s pretty simple math. Now I know that there are the genetical anomalies, the people who drink a lot and don’t get fat and the people who don’t work out a lot and can still somehow run a marathon. Just hush, you.
In high school, back when I was hitting the early stages of that get-jacked craze I went through, a couple of my friends and I got really into those workout magazines. We’d study the exercises and drool over the bulging biceps and 18-pack abs. We’ve all been there, right? We wanted to look like that, because whoever looked like that had to be invincible.
We once went so far as to theorize that God meant for men to look like that. Why, if they can look like that, why do we accept looking any different? (It was outstanding logic.)
Many people seem to think that, though—that we are meant to look jacked.
The movie Fight Club comes to mind. Brad Pitt plays the infamous Tyler Durden alongside Ed Norton. Durden is shredded beyond belief. Muscles and striations everywhere. Norton’s character isn’t out of shape, but he’s no Tyler Durden.
During one scene in the movie, Durden and Norton board a bus to find themselves eyeballs-to-abs with a Calvin Klein underwear ad. They smirk. “Is that what a real man is supposed to look like?” Norton asks. His tone insinuates a rhetorical question, a mocking condescension of modern America’s ideal of manliness. They mock the idea of muscles solely for muscles’ sake, and likewise with everything else we’ve come to desire. Why have something just to have it?
“We’re consumers,” Durden once says. “We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty—these things don’t concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy’s name on my underwear.”
Norton’s character says at one point that Fight Club, not work or society or appearances, became their reason to cut their hair short, or trim their nails. It defined their appearance. And I know that, were I in this Fight Club, I’d work out to harden my abs and strengthen my pecs and arms. Why? The harder one’s abs, the more punishment they can take; the stronger one’s arms, the more punishment they can inflict.
But in my pursuit of that, I’d again develop those rippling abs and jacked arms.
My appearance would reflect my desire—the desire to survive the fight. And that’s what I’ve experienced with triathlon. My appearance reflects my desire to survive the training, the race.
This past weekend I competed in the White Lake Sprint II, which is a half-mile swim, a 14.5-mile bike ride and a 5K run.
When I finished, I was glad to be done but felt a little disappointed that I hadn’t done better. I finished number 144 out of 301 men and with a time of 1:30:59.
Then I reviewed my times from each leg of the race and was quite pleasantly surprised with how well I actually did.
Each leg went as I expected. The swim was by far the most stressful; the bike, by far the most fun; the run, by far the most painful and most demanding.
Quick thoughts on each leg:
The Swim
This video sums up, entirely, the only way to truly prepare for an open-water swim to start a triathlon. And I’ll just leave it at that.
My swim time: 19:24. Solid. I will do better in the future now that I have that experience under my wetsuit, but I expected it to take about 20 minutes, so that was right on track.
The Bike
The wind was killer. Everyone said so. I was initially a little disappointed at not being able to meet my goal of staying above 20 mph for the whole course. Then I saw my time: 42:23. I think my best 14.5-mile time during training was around 45 minutes. And that was without a half-mile swim on my body.
The Run
I spent the first mile-and-a-half trying to keep my calves from cramping. I was trying to run on the balls of my feet, a trick I learned from Greg Koenig at Fitness For Life. He said that for us bigger guys, the less time our feet spend on the ground the better. I’ve been a midfoot striker most of my life. When I try to sprint I usually get up on the balls of my feet, and am always surprised at how much easier it is to run fast like that. On Friday, I ran 3 miles on the balls of my feet and it felt completely effortless.
All that said, running on the balls of your feet after swimming a half-mile then biking 14.5 miles when you haven’t trained much with that running form leads to cramps. Well, almost cramps.
I stopped to walk at the turnaround mark, drank some water, stretched a little bit, and ran the last half of the course much better. I ended with a sprint, which I couldn’t do in my first sprint triathlon a month ago. So that was cool.
I was disappointed with my run, though. Like with the bike, I thought it would be better. Then, again like with the bike, I saw my time and was happily surprised: 25:41. That’s not going to win anything, but it’s better than the 27:39 I posted at my first race, and again, this was after a much more difficult first two legs.
So whaddya know, training works.
New Stuff
Give me your money. OK, not really me – send me money to give to Hope 127. This is that to which I'm attaching my triathlon, in hopes of doing more through triathlon than simply helping myself.
Hope 127 is a ministry in Wilmington that supports Kenyan outreach to orphans and destitute children through Mama Hellen’s Rehabilitation Center. I’ll post more about this in the coming week, but the nuts and bolts of everything can be found by clicking the “Tri More” link in the overhead navigation up there. Basically, make checks out to PC3 (Port City Community Church, which facilitates the ministry) and write Hope 127 in the memo line. Mail those to me. I’ll get them to the right people.
Also, if you’re interested in sponsoring my efforts to help people, you can reimburse my gear costs or simply reimburse past entry fees or fund future competition entry fees. The more I can race, the more money I can raise. If you want to attach your sponsorship of me to a company or business or anything like that, I can arrange for you to advertise here and even write a promo post in exchange.
Thanks a ton – it means the world to me, and I can’t imagine how much it helps those kids. Katie – that is, The Gorgeous Wife – and I have decided to sponsor a child at Mama Hellen’s, and dude, it’s awesome just seeing their face and knowing Hey, we’re giving this kid a life he never imagined having. This stuff is real, and Hope 127 is a truly noble and trustworthy organization, which is why I picked them. Trust is huge, and I absolutely trust them.
Also….
This week I’m going to begin training with the aforementioned Greg Koenig on a new bike and run program he’s developed. I’m not entirely positive yet what we’ll be doing – I actually need to call him right now – but basically, he’s going to make me beastly. At least, he’ll do his best. I’ll train with him on that for a month and write about it here and perhaps in a local or regional magazine. Not sure about that yet; still waiting to contact and/or hear back from some people. But stay tuned.
Before yesterday, I'd never in my life worn a wetsuit. Which means that when Greg Koenig of Fitness For Life in Wilmington offered to let me borrow his for my open-water practice swim with the Y Dub Tri crazies, I was thrilled.
But dude....that junk is tight. I put it on at my house before I left and called Greg to make sure I wasn't going to rip out of the thing.
"Trust me," he said. "If I wear it, you can wear it."
By the time we jumped in the water, though, I was used to it. And the instant I hit the water, I was grateful for it. Remember how terrifying my first channel swim was last week? Remember how petrified I was of running into who-knows-what-type of sea monsters? The wetsuit canceled all that out somehow. Something about having a few millimeters of rubber between myself and whatever might come did wonders for my anxiety and made me a much more confident swimmer.
It definitely helped that the water was warmer, and what cold spots we went through were wholly mitigated by the suit. We ended up swimming the Beach2Battleship half-Ironman swim route, only in reverse to go with the current. Had I known that's what we were swimming ahead of time, I honestly might have bailed. But I got through it.
LeAnne stayed back with me as I started falling behind.
"That's what you get for missing all these pool workouts," she said....while swimming with one arm, doing drills to keep from getting bored while staying back with my slow self.
Turns out my form had fallen to crap. For some reason, I got it in my head that faster arms meant faster swimming, like how faster feet and legs mean faster biking and running. Not so. It's long, smooth, gliding strokes and not throwing your head up to breathe that makes all the difference. Of course, nobody told me that until I got out of the water. Well, I think LeAnne tried to, but all I was worried about was crossing that channel before any boats or jet skis ran me over.
Suffice it to say I'm thoroughly stoked about Sunday's triathlon. That's right -- in case you haven't heard, I'm competing in the White Lake Sprint this weekend. I'm going to get to compete on my new bike, and Greg's letting me borrow his wetsuit, which will be pretty clutch for that 750 meter swim out of the gate. Sure, taking that sucker off will kill my transition time, but I think it'll be worth it saving that energy that the cold and the anxiety saps out of me in the water.
It was comforting to learn, though, that anxiety isn't limited just to me. Simply knowing that helps ease it, I think.
~
In other news, I've finally settled on a good cause for which to raise money with my triathlon stuff. I'll post more about that later today, so stay tuned!
Click here to read my column about the race in this week's StarNews. (Awesome picture, too, right?)
As I mentioned in the column, I owe lots of people lots of thanks for this whole triathlon training saga actually happening. They are below.
(Also, stay posted....pictures and a "behind-the-scenes" blog will be up hopefully by tomorrow!)
THANK YOU to ....
Nicole Rodriguez, YDT creator/leader – for starting this club and for working with me and the StarNews to make this series happen.
LeAnne LaFave – for being the best running coach I could have asked for. And for, you know, just being LeAnne.
Brian Campbell – for loaning me his bike and giving me the loads of free advice. To Starbucks!
Ben Bowie – for the helmet.
Charlie George – for the bike advice.
Everyone else at Bike Cycles whose names I always forget – you’re all awesome, too.
Speaking of Charlies, Charlie Hauser – for putting on an awesome event and for the great keepsake. That goes out to all first-time triathletes – and I especially thank you for the alarm clock, maybe adding a fourth one will help me actually get to practice on time!
Hank Carter, a.k.a. The Tank, a.k.a. The School Bus – you might think you’re a fat guy, but you’re one tough guy to keep up with on the bike. Thanks for the rides man, looking forward to more!
James Hunter – for your amazing YouTube finds for spectacular triathlon training tips and inspiration.
Matt Willis, for being a constant source of encouragement from Barton. Now that I have my late nights back, we really do need to get ready for that tournament again. You should come to Wilmington so we can have a team practice.
Jamie Turnage, for being one of the initial inspirations for this. Yeah, I remember you talking about triathlons before I started thinking about trying one. You rock. Sorry your stupid knee kept you from the WAC – kill it at Buckhorn!
My brothers, Kramer and Logan, for picking on me over Christmas and calling me fat – just the motivation I need.
My sisters, Kara and Heidi, and parents, Will and Karen, just for getting so psyched about this whole idea.
All of my blog readers, too many wonderful people to name!
Dan Spears and the Wilmington StarNews for actually paying me to write about this crazy saga. It’s been so worth it. Hope you thought so too.
And last but so not the least - My incredible wife, Katie, for your unbelievable support, for the massages, for fixing great meals, and for not once making me sleep on the futon or in the guest bedroom. So lucky I married such an awesome, awesome girl.
~
If I somehow left someone out, please email me at bmsneed@gmail.com, and I’ll definitely add you. I’m pretty rushed right now trying to get this up, but really want to make sure to recognize everyone who was involved. I’m sure I’ll think of someone else; I’ll make notes of when this is updated.
Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’ve all been incredible!
I felt like my old new self, finally. (By "old new self" I mean the new version of me that enjoys and was getting good at endurance sports like swimming, as opposed to my old self who hated such things. My old new self was me slicing through the water, swimming 1:20 100-yarders without as much as getting winded. That's the guy that apparently died this week, for I've yet to find him, instead floundering and gasping and such.)
Unfortunately, that old new self only lasted about 100 yards, maybe 200, before I was stopping to take a step to catch my breath and slowing down and, quite honestly, giving up.
To my credit -- and apparently I'm giving myself credit now, how lame is that? -- I did more today than I planned to. I told Katie last night that I was only going to swim a couple of 100-yard sets, then bust out a 300-yarder since that's what the race will be on Sunday, then sprint a couple more 100-yarders, then pack it in. Instead, I swam 100 yards, then actually did 125 yards' worth of drills with the group, then swam a 300-yard set, then a 200-yard set, then....actually, I think that might have been it.
Something like that. I don't remember exactly. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn't much, and I actually got back to the house before Katie left for work, which never happens.
When I got home, I did a little work....then I hit up Lowe's Foods for bananas, oatmeal, yogurt, OJ, and bagels, and ate a huge breakfast. That might be part of my problem, honestly. I haven't been eating great breakfasts lately, and I'm tired of fast food. Last night at our couples' group, I was actually craving salad and the healthy parts of chicken pot pie. So my diet might have been playing a bigger role in this plateau I hit this week than I originally thought.
We'll see. I'm going to try to eat well through Sunday, try to get a really good night's sleep tonight, and just run an easy 5K tomorrow morning. Then I'll probably try to grab a nap sometime during the day between writing sessions and interviews -- had an awesome new Lighthouse Project idea today! -- and then go ride the WAC bike course with Brian at some point.
Three days, baby. I can't wait. I'm honestly not stressing at all about this little wall I've hit. I'm sure that with a little rest and a little better food, I'll be in fine shape on Sunday. That hour goal? That podium finish? I'm less certain about that. But I'm sure I'll be able to go hard, and there's no doubt it's gonna be a blast.
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