remembering Keith Carter

Mr. Carter was a part of my family's Arabian experience from the very beginning.

As a kid I wanted to be the Lone Ranger and dressed the part of a cowboy everywhere I went. During a tantrum in Houston, at an Aramco orientation for new teachers. I took off one of my cowboy boots and flung it over the balcony as I was upset with my parents. As fate would have it, the boot landed in the middle of a table occupied by Keith. My parents, who had heard about Keith through mutual family friends, Tom and Ann Monson, introduced themselves to Keith and then had to ask for the boot back. Keith always joked that he would stay teaching until I passed through his sixth grade class.

Almost a decade later, I experienced the legendary teaching methods Keith shared with so many other students. The European and African notebooks were the most difficult, time-consuming, yet most rewarding projects. What brilliance and vision he had to have sixth graders research every country on those continents, draw a map of their profile, draw a map of their flag and find an article inside a newspaper featuring that country. I ended up majoring in history in college and I am convinced that year in sixth grade with Keith inspired that.

My other favorite project in Keith's class was investing in stocks. Yeah, I did this later in high school, but by that time I had already experienced Keith's methodical preparations in which we always had to show the work we had completed and provide a reason WHY we selected what we had. I still remember Shane Lambert was the big winner in the class as Chrysler was a big mover in 1992! I was conservative with my fake money and had selected a few mutual funds along with my favorite fast food restaurant McDonald's.

I was a paperboy for the Arab News and Saudi Gazette in 7th, 8th and 9th grades and Keith was on my route. I knew he loved getting his daily news, and as one of my teachers, I wanted to make sure his paper never got caught in the sprinkler system. His was the only paper I did not throw in a baseball-style toss, instead I placed his neatly folded copy on his doorstep. He rewarded me with a handsome tip each month. I think he always knew the style I delivered all the other papers and tipped me so that his paper did not receive the same delivery experience!

Keith was a family friend and we continued to have reunions when he retired back to Iowa. We visited his Arab Heritage Museum in Newell a few times, the most recently three years ago when I was able to introduce Keith to my wife. His health had noticeably declined but he still spent a few hours with us telling stories of his world travels, his museum treasures from all over the Middle East and Africa and he even prepared coffee in an old Arabian coffee pot. That was the last time I saw him in person.

Keith, your patience, worldly vision, and strong conviction to always do the right thing and to ALWAYS show your legwork will live in those of us who were lucky enough to be your students.

Thank you teacher and friend!
Lars

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Norseman Xtreme Memory

I came across this image and it reminded me of the fun start to our honeymoon in Norway in '07. This image was captured and later put into Norway's version of WOMEN'S magazine in a story they did on the Norseman Xtreme - which included an in-depth profile on Emily and her win that year.

Here Emily is explaining in Norwegian why I should try and run with her to the finish line. I obviously didn't understand what she was saying.

To see for yourself how tough this race is, visit their website. This race now sells out in mere minutes to 250 crazy endurance junkies out there.

super sprint tri grand prix - oceanside, ca

Triathlon rarely gets credit for being a spectator friendly sport. And for good reason. Besides a few of us hard core tri fans, who else really enjoys watching long distance racing where athletes disappear out of sight for hours at a time, only to return and then disappear again? Is this racing fun for anyone other than the athletes participating in the event?

Back in the 1990's, a race series was conceptualized and developed by the Australians called the Formula One (F1) Series. This was fast and furious racing and was made to be spectator and television friendly triathlon. It created the triathlon stars of today including the likes of Greg Bennett, Chris McCormack, Matt Reed, Craig Alexander, Simon Whitfield and others. It was also the impetus for the ITU's creation of draft-legal Olympic distance racing.

On Sunday, in Oceanside, a sleepy beach town 40 miles north of downtown San Diego, former F1 racer Marc Lees, organized the Super Sprint Triathlon Grand Prix with an invitation only professional field. The event was considered a trial although Lees took every step necessary to cater to both athletes and spectators alike with a top notch production.

Lees' course design was well-conceived. Using the Pacific Ocean by the Oceanside Pier as the course backdrop, Lees used one of three racing formats used in F1 racing, the Enduro format which includes a 300-meter swim, 5-mile bike and 1.5-mile run completed twice through. The swim took place in the chilled and choppy Pacific, the bike over a half-mile stretch of the Strand, and the run over the same Strand roads with a short hill zig-zagging up onto the Pier.

Many of triathlon's top pro stars flew in for the event - a sign they are committed to spurring on growth and excitement for this kind of racing in the US. And the timing couldn't be better for our ADHD riddled society. All of the action happens right in front of your face, leaving no time to imagine, only time to participate. As spectators, this is exactly what we needed.

Who wouldn't want to watch the likes of current Ironman world champion Macca toe the line against short course studs like American national champion Jarrod Shoemaker or Matt?

I contacted Lees race week and inquired about an opening on the starting line. He agreed due to another athlete canceling last minute, and like that, I was embedded in the race day battle. I was one of few athletes without a short course, draft legal racing background, and it showed.

From the word "GO" I was shed to the back of the line of athletes sprinting into the 60-degree water. In this furious racing, there is no time for wetsuits but also no time to even think about whether you feel cold or not. We were immediately confronted with a series of breakers and had to duck dive under set after set for what seemed like an eternity before even having the opportunity to start swimming. Swimming is a generous term for what I was doing myself. I was flailing and swinging my arms as fast as possible firmly locked onto the calves of Matt who had a poor start himself. I knew it would be the end of my race if I let go of his legs. So I stayed locked in.

Near the turn around buoy, he had enough of me pestering him and turned around and kicked my hands off his legs. I don't blame him. I had crossed the unspoken line in drafting etiquette during the swim. However, I quickly located my next tow, Richie Cunningham and Paul Amey. Heading back in towards shore, my arms started to feel like lead and both Richie and Paul caught a wave that sent them flying into shore. I arrived a few seconds later, but any time lost can mean the end of your race.

It was evident by the speed they ran out of the water and into transition compared to me that I was out of my league! I chased hard and tore out of transition believing my cycling was good enough to bridge up to one of the chase groups. I rode with my feet set on top of my cycling shoes and time-trialed with my head down until I locked onto the back of a small group including Richie, Paul and another rider my impaired vision was too blurred to recognize. I still had not dared reach down and slip my feet into my shoes for fear I would lose contact with the draft created when you ride behind other cyclists.

The bike course was flat as an ironing board with only two 180-degree roundabout turns on each end of the road. As we neared the completion of the second lap and started around the roundabout again, my rear tubular tire rolled off the rim and I crashed. I got up quickly, did a quick check and got back on my bike before I noticed the exposed rim. I recognized Paul Huddle standing nearby and he yelled that neutral support was a few hundred meters up the road. So, I yanked off my new and now heavily scraped up Bont cycling shoes, picked up my bike and took off running towards the support station. Word passed quickly to them about the crash and one of the volunteers came sprinting my way to help with the wheel change (I found out after the race, the volunteer holds a sub 4-minute mile PR to his name!). It must have been a bit odd for the cyclists zooming down the road to see me running from one side of the road to the next in order to get closer to the support station while staying out of their way.

Once the wheel was replaced, I was nearly a lap behind the entire field but decided it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and pushed on. Luckily the course was so chaotic with racers spread across the entire road that it was hard to tell how far behind I really was!

I ran as hard as I could but still entered the second rotation through the swim with only a handful or swimmers still heading out to the turnaround buoy. Because I was alone, and out of the race, I was able to focus on taking long strokes and had a decent swim. I missed a big wave that may have taken me in close to shore but did hit a few smaller sets once I was in closer to the beach. As I ran into transition Marc reminded me to watch out for the group once they started running. I ended up being the last one off the bike and to finish the race but Greg Welch was still cool and announced me over the line. A bunch of the guys stayed at the finish too which I thought was a cool gesture.

Despite the less than ideal circumstances, I had a blast out there and knew I was fortunate to have the opportunity to be a part of a race that is going to catch on here in the US and go on to be a great series. I fully expect a few big sponsors to step up and put this series in a few major US markets in 2011. It will draw the biggest name pros in the sport and will be the most talked about series on US soil.

There are a bunch of photos and a race recap up on Triathlete.com. Aaron Hersh was out on the course for the men's and women's races and snapped photos, grabbed interviews and wrote up a great report.

Til next time -- keep the rubber side down (and firmly glued)!

LF

babaganoush update

Em had a visit to the doc yesterday - week 38 - and both she and our baby girl are happy and healthy. it could be any day now. i wonder what Em thinks of having a Halloween baby?

colnago gran fondo

after spending one week in markdorf, germany, our home base during the annual eurobike tradeshow, five of us drove down through the lake district of switzerland and into northern italy for the colnago gran fondo cycling event.

because riding a bike for 100-miles isn't the brightest idea after spending six days in a row off the bike, the other guys (kb, walker, vestal and hersh) decided to ride the medio fondo - which consisted of 75-miles including two mountain passes. i'm not too bright and committed myself to the longer route - with one extra massive 15-mile mountain ascent.

colnago hooked us up with everything we needed: properly sized - and very high end - carbon bikes, water bottles and even a colnago logo'd pump to carry with us.

with over 4,000 crazy italians - and many foreigners - lined up in the start corral, the line was nearly a half-mile long and wrapped around an entire parking lot of a rectangular shaped expo hall.

the first 40k were flat and the peloton raced full throttle as if they were not aware three mountain passes loomed ahead. i took the bait though and took more than my fair share of pulls on the front of the pack and hit the slopes of the first climb in the front.

this first climb, mezzano scotti, was the shortest of the three on the day and resembled the steepness of the climbs seen in the Belgian Classic races on tv. by that, i mean, if a rider chose to unclip from their pedals, it set off a domino effect of all other riders unclipping.

it became obvious i rode the early flat miles too hard, and took too many pulls for my current state-of-fitness, and i quickly bonked within the first quarter-mile. i was forced to lay off the gas and went into survival mode over the five or six miles of that climb.

after loading up with goodies at a buffet-like aid station, i stupidly committed to the "LUNGA" route at the junction where the medio and gran fondo races split. within a few hundred meters, i was staring at the bottom of the day's big climb, santa barbara, which took over an hour to climb. pitches were insanely steep, others leveled off, and there were even a few downhill reprieves, but overall it went UP! at one point, near the top of the climb, i was forced to get off my bike and stretch out two severely cramped up legs, that more closely resembled two blocks of wood.

the final climb, described by one of my colleagues as "false flat", was nothing of the sort and i crawled up it at a snails pace, and with only the thought of getting back to the food tent at the expo for the italian buffet that awaited. the final climb, passo del cerro, was the nail in the coffin and it was obvious i had left my climbing legs back in california (or back in colorado). i was bonked, cramped, and left to figure out how to get my body back to the finish.

i found a nice group of twenty riders to ride in the final 40k of flat roads back to the finish, and was content to sit in the group so as not to bonk again.

as luck would have it, upon crossing the finish line completely spent, i wiped out on a thick black hose that was stretched out across the road. no scratches on the bike and only minor wounds to my ego.

the flight the next day back to the states was rough and having worn my compression socks nearly each day of the eurobike show, i opted to buy a set of travel socks at the milan airport which helped relieve some of the soreness and blood pooling.

a final shout out to my colleague nate forbes who organized beautiful Colnagos for us to ride! if you ever find yourself in europe in the summertime or fall, look for a gran fondo race near you. we met a few cycling fans who were spending their summer traveling throughout europe and racing gran fondos in different cities and countries every weekend. i can't say i can argue with their thought process -- these rides allow you to see a part of the countryside usually reserved for picture books.

shark week -- can i have my life back?

discovery channel has managed to trick me into racing home from work every night so as not to miss a minute of the latest shows during this special week dedicated to sharks.

i am intrigued by these creatures because one of my favorite pastimes is playing in their backyard and each time i walk down the stairs to swim at la jolla cove, i feel extremely alive yet extremely scared shitless.

i know i am afraid, like most people, of the unknown - that knowledge that it is their habitat and they are down there but that i can't see them. last year in hawaii, i woke up early one morning and swam in kailua bay along the ironman hawaii swim course. on the way back to shore, about 800 meters out, i stopped a few meters from the Coffees of Hawaii catamaran and approached a couple of kayakers who were out enjoying their morning. the water was clear and visibility below was good down to the ocean floor. swimming gracefully below were a handful of reef sharks, minding their own business, yet in close proximity to a few dozen swimmers. i was initially surprised with how little it bothered me and then i realized how uninterested they were in us, and how being able to physically see them was far more calming then the anticipation and fear the mind is able to conjure up.

watching the episodes throughout the week, one thing in particular strikes me about the people who have been victims to shark attacks. not one of them put blame on the shark for the attack and noted it was likely a case of mistaken identity and they understood they were in their backyard and natural habitat.

i respect these animals for their beauty, mysteriousness, and their raw power and i also know the lifestyle i willingly choose to participate in puts me in their playground. it is an amazing spectacle on friday nights down at la jolla cove to see the tri club of san diego members and other open water swimmers, numbering in the hundreds, flock down for their half-mile, mile and two-mile swims in the 60-odd degree water, enjoying the ocean and it's habitat, while holding ultimate respect for what dwells beneath.