Ben Collins

The results say I was DQed, Disqualified, and yet somehow went a 1:54. The time doesn’t make sense to me because I never actually finished.

Here’s the rundown.

8am - Wake up, eat breakfast, read my book, watch some CNN (only english channel.

9:30am - notice the surf is quite a bit larger than the past couple days, and the faces are probably 10ft on most sets.

9:45: check in my bike to transition, find out the race has been delayed 30minutes, which puts our start time at 12:20pm. I jog back to the hotel and look at the weather report to see that our race will be somewhere over 90 degrees - I start drinking the coldest water I can find.

11:10: i do a short swim warmup in the hotel pool, then a short bike warmup on the hotel stationary bike.

11:50: I jog to the race site, drink more cold water, do a short warmup and discover that 8-10ft faces are quite a bit of fun to swim through.

12:20: the gun goes off. I’m the third guy to make it through the set that’s coming in as we charge the water. Ahead of me is Matt Chrabot (he’s excellent at getting under waves, thanks to beach lifeguard experience) and next to me is someone else I didn’t recognize. We closed on Matt slowly, then the unknown guy disappeared in the last 500m. I came out of the water about 8 seconds behind Matt, and quite a bit ahead of the rest of the field.

Bike: Matt waited for me, and together we extended our small lead to 2.5 minutes over the 40k bike. The course was an out and back with hair pins at either end, completely flat, and entirely in the sun. I tried to conserve energy, but the heat started catching up to me, and heading into the run I could already feel my system shutting down.

Run: Matt took off with a vengeance, and my only hope was that if I poured enough water over myself then maybe I could cool down and get a second wind. After the first lap I was in pain, but hanging on. Then my stomach started revolting. I began to throw up almost continuously, and none of the water I tried to get in me would stay down. At the 5k a pack of six men passed me, putting me in eighth. Soon more runners started coming by, and though I tried, I wasn’t able to match their pace.

The third lap I hit a wall, then spent the next 3km trying to recover. That’s when things get a little blurry. I remember a guy coming by me on the last stretch. I tried to go by him as the finish shoot came into view.  The words, "Everyone’s hurting, just go," were repeating in my head.  Then my legs gave out. I was on the ground, and the words, "forward progress is only allowed on two feet" were repeating in my head. (the ITU rule is that you cannot crawl, summersault or otherwise make forward progress during the run.) I tried to stand up, but my legs betrayed me. I grabbed the fence and tried to prop myself up, but my legs wouldn’t extend below me.

By this time there were several people trying to help me up, trying to get me medical attention. I fought them off as best I could ("no outside assistance"), but then I must have passed out because I remember nothing else until I was being carried from the ambulance into a hospital with the Canadian Team Doctor standing over me directing a team of medics, Mexican doctors, nurses, and my Dad. I had no idea where I was. I couldn’t remember my name, let alone what city I was in (or country for that matter). Somehow I remembered that Matt had been winning, and though I couldn’t remember his last name, I asked if Matt, the American, had won. He had, which made me pretty happy. At least somebody gained from our cycling heroics.

I was in the hospital for a couple hours. the diagnosis was Heat Stroke, and if it weren’t for the Candian Doc, I would probably have been in much worse shape. I’m supposed to stay out of the sun for a few days and take it easy.

For the entire week leading up to the April 13th race the wind blew through Miami’s South Beach with just enough force to create white caps and choppy surf. I also felt really flat the whole week. Yet at some point during the eight hours I was sleeping Saturday night, all that changed. The water was glassy along the shore. The wind had gone, and so had the weight in my legs. I felt fresh, and excited (I was excited all week; you don’t have to feel great to race great, but it helps). Standing next to three of my personal heroes along the beach - Dara Torres, Chris Lieto, and Macca - I waited for the canon to start my 2008 season.

Bang! A quick sprint to the water and I found myself gliding ahead of the pack right next to Chris McCormack. I pulled ahead just slightly and at the first buoy I was able to gap the rest of the field. By the end of the 1/2 mile swim I was leading the race by 22 seconds.

I pushed hard on the bike right from the start, and maintaining my initial enthusiastic pace proved to be no small feat. On the second of four Causeway crossings in the 18 mile bike I saw a long shadow gliding over the pavement beside me. It was attached to Chris Lieto. I picked up the pace to stay with him as long as I could, but over the final ten miles I watched five bike lengths grow to ten, and then Chris’s silhouette continued to shrink. I came into T2 just over a minute behind the four-time Ironman Champion, and another two minutes ahead of Macca.

Off on the four mile run I wanted to be conservative. It was my first run race of the season, plus, having spent most of my training hours in Seattle, I wasn’t sure how the heat and humidity would play into my performance  At the first mile marker I looked at my watch to see I had run a 5:10, that felt like a 5:30. I held that same pace for the next three miles (though each one felt much worse than the previous), and finished the race just 45 seconds behind Chris Lieto, and two minutes ahead of Macca. Later I found out that my run was the fastest of the day! (Thanks in no small part, I’m sure, to the K-Swiss Ultra Natural Run shoes I wore).

It was a pretty awesome experience to race against two of the sports most seasoned competitors. I was confident in my swim and cycling abilities, but I’m most proud of the run. It’s no sub-30-minute 10k, but I’m getting to where I may soon call myself a runner without my nose growing ten inches.

For now, my focus is on the Mazatlan ITU Pan-American Championships on Saturday.

Tomorrow is my first race of the season, the First Annual Nautica South Beach Triathlon Presented by Toyota.

Tonight was a pasta dinner for all the athletes, hosted by Macca, which was the first I’ve had the opportunity to meet the champ. The pasta was unremarkable, but it was still fun to meet a bunch of athletes from all over the country. This race raised over $70,000 for St Jude’s Children’s Hospital, and I met some of the  big contributors to that.

K-Swiss had a booth set up and the new Ultra Natural Run shoes were selling like hotcakes (I dish out cliches like samples at Costco). I’ve been training in them the past six weeks, and I’m in love. Since I started running my feet have looked like Shrek’s: all blistered with black and blue. The K-Swiss shoes are the first running shoes I’ve been able to wear without having to grow calluses where the shoe rubs funny. Well, I liked my first pair so much I wore it out by running in it for six weeks. I had a newish pair of 2130’s (Asics), so I switched back for a couple runs. Black and Blue all over again! They just didn’t feel as smooth to run in as the K-Swiss.

Katya Meyers and I did a clinic at the race expo today where we talked about transitions. We stood on stage and asked for questions for the crowd of nervous looking racers, and did our best to calm their nerves.

From here on out, I’m going to nail all my transitions.

I never really knew the term ‘marked man" until last week when friend kept telling me my "strategy" that’s been working so far in bike races would be a little less effective now that everyone knew what to expect.

"Whatever," I thought. ‘If they don’t let me get away easily, I’ll just make people suffer a bit, then get away later."

I was told by the local official in charge of license upgrades that I would need a podium finish on Saturday in order to upgrade for the Sunday race. Saturday I showed up to Mason Lake with Joe Brennan from Team Hagens Berman (That team also sports the Herriott Sports performance logo). He was racing Cat 4’s, but felt obligated to warn me that my name had been mentioned as one to watch out for.

I didn’t matter much. On the second lap (of three) I started making half-hearted attempts to break away, which sent the group from a gentlemen’s pace, to more of a steady trot. A few guys got away, and I bridged up. I lack the ability to sprint, so getting away meant dragging four brave soles for about five minutes. When I finally pulled off the lead the pace slowed significantly, but to our advantage we had four of six teams represented, so the pack was unlikely to chase us down. Still, I was feeling spunky, so with one lap to go I charged a hill and went solo. By the finish I had a 3 minute lead over the four others from the break, and nearly six over the field.

Fun times. Cucina Fresca had tried to box me in a couple of times, but their failed attempts gave me a false sense of hope that I could out-power their team tactics in the Cat 4’s on Sunday. If "marked" meant I could mess with people, then I was all for it.

Notice the tense of my last paragraph.

From the first lap of the Market Street Road Race in Ravensdale Cucina’s team plan was pretty obvious.  The first time I tried to stir things up by charging a hill my meager attempt was shut down when a Cucina Fresca rider refused to pull through in a three man break. Cucina had seven riders who’s sole purpose was to make sure every pace line was shut down. It was really effective. I tried to counter it with smack talk (which is one of the thrills of racing with my head out of the water), but aside from adding humor to the ride it fell on deft ears. A few more times I tried to get the group to string out, but each time it was brought to a crawl by Cucina "we don’t pull" Fresca.

Needless to say, when it came down to a sprint, I’m inclined to just sit up. Not only am I horribly outmatched by anyone over the age of four with two legs and a big wheel, but I was also caught off guard when someone yelled "yellow line" right after th3 200m mark. Apparently the road was open, but I went back right anyway, and probably killed the race for some people behind me (Like First Rate Mortgage’s Dessa)

Moral of the story? Seven on one makes Ben’s legs hurt. I need a new plan.

Next race? I’m running a 5k on Saturday. Let’s see team tactics work against me there.

[As an aside, I borrowed a rear wheel with a power meter hub for the race on Saturday. It was pretty cool to see what wattage I could maintain (though the thrill of seeing high numbers probably made me go a lot harder than I needed to), and how that matches up with the intervals I've been doing on the computrainer. Plus, with my Garmin 305 and the Powertap computer, I had enough information on my handlebars I hardly needed to look at the road.]

[ok, one last thing because it's not worth it's own post: Take the awareness test before you drive your car again.]

Dungeness that is. I skipped out on the second of three Mason Lake road races in order to challenge a mixed field of Cat 4/5 men out on the northern end of the Olympic Mountains in Western Washington today. It’s a long drive, plus a ferry, but luckily I convinced my friend (and fellow triathlon blogger), Chris Tremonte, to join me (despite him having raced an indoor track meet yesterday).

In the car/ferry ride out there we talked some strategy. Chris would make a move, then I would break away a few minutes later and we would work together until one of us died.

It worked perfectly, and I managed to bring two guys up with me. With four people in the break we worked fairly consistently and managed to build an 80 second lead by the end of the third (of four) laps. Shortly after that, Chris got wussy around a corner and got himself dropped, which left three. a few miles later another guy dropped off, and it came down to about four miles left with just one other cyclist. At that point I should have just charged and tried to drop him off my wheel, but instead I just kept rotating. It came down to a sprint (which I don’t do well at), and I didn’t do well. I was second, and the fact that the Allen is a Cat 2 track cyclist (and therefore has sprinted more times this year than I will my entire life) only mildly makes me feel better for being an idiot when it comes to strategy. Regardless, it was my third road race ever, and my first time racing cat 4’s. Unlike the name of the race, I’m not crabby.

Check here for results, and I’ll update links when I find them posted.

If I wait to have a Pulitzer worthy post for Brazil I’m going to lose all my readers, so here’s the short of it (don’t let that phase fool you, the post is actually really long):

  I left Seattle on Wednesday, which was great luck since my visa had just been approved on Tuesday. Victor had to pick it up for me in San Francisco, so the luck was in the fact that we were both on the same flight from Dallas to Sao Palo. Our trip to Florianopolis ended up taking about 40 hours. At 3am when we finally got to our hotel room there was very little conversation before Victor Matt and I were all passed out.

That was Friday morning. The race was Sunday at 10am, and we used every moment to recover from the travel and prepare to race. Aside from a press conference Friday morning, my days consisted entirely of feasting on the excellent Brazilian food, light training, and lots of sleeping. It was great.

This race is pretty unique. It is a 3 stage race. Each stage consists of a 250m swim, a 4k (4 lap, draft legal) bike, and a 1300m (2 lap) run. The stages went of 10am, 10:30am, and 11am, and all 18 athletes did each stage. The points ere given out in each stage so that 18 points go to 1st, on down to 1 point for 18th. The top team leaves with all the glory, which is a pretty good prize considering the race was broadcast live all over South America, and rebroadcast later that day in Brazil.

Here’s how it all went down (from my perspective, there were also 38,000 people watching on the course, so I’m sure you can find a few other versions).

  Round 1: The camera men were taking their lives into their own hands by standing in front of 18 adrenaline rushed men charging into the surf. The sprint down the beach was intense, and I was solidly mid-pack by the time we got into the water. I passed a few guys, but finished the swim right next to my teammate Victor Plata, and about 30 seconds back from the leaders (which included our other teammate, Matt Chrabot).  Matt took off on the bike and caught the leader, but then he fell while cornering. He got right back on his bike and finished strong, but his leg was scraped up and his thumb sprained. He still finished ahead of Victor and me.

Round 2: The big white buoy we had gone around the first round blew away, so we were supposed to use a yellow mooring buoy instead. What they didn’t tell us is that the yellow buoy was really hard. I found that out when I was about five feet downwind of it. A wave passed and as the buoy fell from peak to trough it blew toward me and nearly knocked me out. One minute I was swimming, the next I was floating on my back in a daze as about five people swam by. After making sure I was not dying, I started swimming again, but it was pretty much up to Vic and Matt to carry the torch for round 2.  Matt came back from his fall and managed another strong finish, and together with Victor’s consistency, our team was in third place going into the final round. First was Brazil and was out of reach, but in second were the Canadians with less than 10 points over us.

Round 3: I swam much better. I came out of the water about 5 yards behind a red Speedo that said "Chrabot" on it, but between the beach run and transition that was the last I saw of my teammate. Victor was next to me for part of the swim, but managed to get tangled in one of the buoy’s anchor lines. While Matt rode with the leaders I was stuck in no man’s land with an Austrian, and Victor was in a substantial chase pack. Going into the run Matt and I were battling to stay ahead of Canadians, but failed. We were both out sprinted in the final 300 meters.

The final score: Brazil 141, Canada 76, USA 71.

My goal was to have fun, and I met that expectation. I also raced pretty well. I had a great weekend, and the fact that every round felt stronger than the previous is a great sign. I am definitely eager for the real season to begin: April 19th in Mazatlan Mexico.

The best part of the trip was definitely getting to know the other athletes. Victor, I discovered, is a great story teller. I was entertained for hours on end while gorging myself on the best papayas I have ever had. Someday, when he’s done being a lawyer, he’ll write a book about all his adventures. I would like to be the first person to recommend reading it.

I’m going to Brazil!!! A few days ago I got an email from Victor Plata.  If you’ve ever used my contact form, you know I force people to choose from "Love Mail" "Hate Mail" or "Sponsorship" as their subject line.  Victor wisely chose Sponsorship, which tells me if he was going to pick a non-sequitur he’d rather it didn’t show a false affection or disgust. Maybe I’m overanalyzing it, but he is a soon-to-be lawyer.  Anyway, those details are completely unrelated to the story.

  Victor asked me to be on the USA team with him and Matt Chrabot (Shar-boe) to compete in the "Fast Triathlon 2008" which will take place in Brazil on January 27th at the site of the Brazil Ironman.  The race consists of 3 stages, each composed of a 250m swim, 4k bike (yes, four, single digit), and 1300m run.  By my calculations each stage should take under 12 minutes plus transitions.  Better yet, the bike leg is four laps, and the run is two, so this is as close to a spectator friendly triathlon as you can get (other than being 10,000 miles from home.)  There will be 18 athletes total. Teams of three from six different countries compete. Athletes are given points after each stage based on their place. Then the teams are scored by the sum of the three athletes points after all three stages.

Wikipedia says the host city, Balneário Camboriú, is located in southern brazil.  It’s a beach town with steep hills that drop down to the resorts on the ocean.  It’s known for the cable cars which link the two beaches, and the town’s 10,000 year-round residents have to deal with a summer population of 700,000 people.

Victor has done this race in the past, but this year we will be following in the large footsteps of Andy Potts, Brian Fleischmann, and Matt Reed.  Andy swept all three stages in 2007, and led the USA to a team victory.  This year we hope to repeat.

Honestly, Karma’s a b****. And for some reason it’s been catching up to me really quick lately. I made fun of Brian Davis for a giant pimple on his face, and that night I woke up with a volcano ready to erupt. Then I spent a week responding to wishes of "good luck" with "I don’t need luck", and bragging that while my friends were going to be spending a three-day weekend in rain city I was going to be basking in warm and sunny California. First, the TRIathlon was turned to a DUathlon (bad luck #1, but like my previous post said, probably one of the most insignificant effects of the ecological devastation that has taken place in the bay.). I tried to renege on my claims, and spent last night begging for my good luck wishes to be reinstated. Somebody was not thinking positive thoughts for me, however, because this morning the clouds looked thicker and darker than normal mornings in the bay, and actually had a familiarity that brings memories of family, friends and North Face Jackets.

I arrived at the course sitting shotgun with Loren, who was wearing a one-of-a-kind I [heart] Ben Collins T-shirt (autographed). Then I saw Christine, and found out that it was a two-of-a-kind shirt (her’s is not autographed) and her mom had an I hear BC shirt. I was embarrassed, but it lifted my mood (3 days without water is not good for my attitude).

Christine and Brandon came out to cheer me on

Run #1. Went well, I was about 22 minutes for the 4 mile run, which isn’t too bad, and I was in about the third group on the bike.

Bike: I rode hard with Kevin Collington, and Brandon Rakita, but on the fourth lap it started raining, then there was a bad crash right in front of me (I hopped over a guys head), then at the end of the fourth lap I heard a sound similar to balloon that comes untied. (flat is bad luck#2). I had put a spare set of wheels in the pit, so I switched and got back into the race. Unfortunately the group I had pulled along for 60% of the bike was long gone, and the guys behind them were too far ahead to catch by myself. I finished off the bike alone, and set off on the run. A ton of guys dropped out, so the field was thin, and there was nobody near me to try to race. My legs felt good for about 5km, then I told myself, "balls to the wall", and nothing happened. I was trying harder, but running backwards. I finished, but it was not fun. I need to run more, and maybe not do duathlons.

Oh, Hunter didn’t lap me this time. That’s good.

"Run Ben Run!!"

Funniest moment of the day: I was watching the DVD from Scott Tinley’s with Sada and Loren. Sada sees me going through transition and says, "Ben, your curly hair looks RIDICULOUS!" Thanks Sada (She’s 4). This was the first time she’s ever spoken the word ridiculous.

This pictures has nothing to do with the post. I just think it’s funny to see Jillian laughing as I tell her to hurry up and win us some beer money.

Last night I raced in the University of Washington All-Comers Swim Meet. It was awesome. I did the fly leg of the 200 medley relay, the 100 individual medley, and the 50 fly. My times were not what I remember from college, but the important thing is that I kicked some butt! A bunch of Seattle area swimmers joined up and made a team called the “devastation Station”. The team was winning, and it was fun to see a bunch of people that I swam with in High School. I wasn’t actually on their team. I was swimming for the Husky Triathlon Team, which was lagging by one point going into the 50 breast. That’s when I left, and I’m not sure what the final results were (I know, poor sportsmanship, but it was late, and I need sleep). I went a 25.00 in the 50 fly, a 57.2 in the 100IM and I’m not sure about the relay split. I really hope we pulled through in the second half for the win because they were giving out t-shirts that say “Intramural Champions”. I would wear that the way Superman wears his “S”: Everywhere. Seriously, if we won, you can expect to see the shirt next time you see me.

More bad news in the swimming community. After Rutgers cut their swimming and diving program this year, Syracuse decided to follow suit. They said the decision was made in order to provide funding for women’s ice hockey, which could be more competitive nationally. Hang on, there are only 30 Ice Hockey teams in the NCAA, of course it’s going to be easier to compete nationally. If sport was about finding an easy win then there would be thousands of Olympic sports with only three people in each. Click on the Syracuse logo above, sign the petition, and let the Orange Athletic Administration know how important it is that we keep the “core” sports (e.g. swimming, track & field, rowing, table tennis…J).

I had a plan for a post of my own for today. Actually, I was hoping Brian could share how exactly he managed to break his wrist and end up owing me $85, but he can’t type (or ride a bike over railroad tracks, apparently). Last night, while my wrist ached with empathy pains, I baked cookies for Brian and Marijana (who read a book to relieve her apathy pains). He owes me money and I’m baking him cookies. See how good a friend I am?

This morning at the track I had yet another encounters with Klepto the Crow (a battle that I have yet to win), but all that is not nearly as interesting as the E-novel Aaron Scheidies finally finished writing.

The big new of the morning, however, is that Aaron posted his epic account of an the seven days surrounding our race in Dallas. It’s a long read, but rather humorous. I’ll stop here so you have more time to read his blog.

As much as I love guest writers, tomorrow I’m going back to writing my own stuff for a bit. I want to write about how awesome my swim workouts have been lately, and why that has me furious.