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I'll love to hear from you: charity.triathlon(at)yahoo.de - and I'll post your comments, too!

Thank you for spreading the word about this site and project: If you're returning, you already know it's a worthy cause to support.

And if you kindly decide to donate, please do so via my pages introducing the beneficiaries (you will get there through the links in the articles or in the menu on the left): Your money will safely and directly go to them in any case but this procedure ensures that your donation can be traced back to my project by the recipients and will show in the donation counter on my homepage. Thank you! 

All photos mine unless otherwise indicated.

Merry Christmas  (Sunday, 12-26-2010)

I hope you are all spending these days with the people you love, sharing good talk and delicious meals, playing games with the kids, listening to Bach, reading novels, taking long walks and returning to a warm home, and cherishing every minute spent this way. 

(And for those who keep running even through fifteen inches of snow, like the guy who passed me yesterday: You rock!) 

I'm sorry !  (Tuesday, 11-09-2010)

I know it's been a really long time... And I know there are some dear people interested in following my ramblings here, and I've kept you waiting. I'll make an effort to do better. 

After the wettest August in recorded history, on the right you see what my part of the world has often looked like in the past weeks. You'd want to run (or walk, or amble) there, too, wouldn't you?

Unfortunately, I haven't been running anywhere (though, thankfully and gently, walking and cycling) for many weeks because my right knee was truly peeved after a few hours of assembling bookshelves while kneeling on the floor. I did put a pad underneath but apparently that wasn't enough, and I can't even begin to say what it has been like to feel so many months of strenuously acquired running form slip through my fingers while coaxing my joint to at least stop hurting.

And it has! Finally! And I'm ecstatic! So I'm looking forward to starting my running again while a little of that green-golden-copper glow is still there. After all, I promised my sis and brother-in-law to join them in London next autumn for their first half-marathon (where they'll run rings round me)... 

Joe Newton

Online encouragement  (Thursday, 09-23-2010)

Dan Savage, whose advice column Savage Love  has been around for many years, has now started a wonderful project to offer comfort and hope to gay teenagers who find themselves bullied at school: On a Youtube channel called It Gets Better Project  he assembles video messages from adults who address these teenagers, tell them about their own lives and encourage them to hang in and not give up. In this week's article (scroll down to the third item), Dan writes about how this campaign was born in reaction to yet another teenage suicide, and about its intent:

Today we have the power to give these kids hope. We have the tools to reach out to them and tell our stories and let them know that it does get better. [...] Many LGBT youth can't picture what their lives might be like as openly gay adults. They can't imagine a future for themselves. So let's show them what our lives are like, let's show them what the future may hold in store for them.

Once again, it was an article in Tara Parker Pope's blog that drew my attention to this amazing idea.

Yippee, I can breathe again without coughing (well, four times out of five at least), which feels wonderful and is accompanied by a general resurgence of energy after some tired and unsatisfying weeks. I even had to abandon my plan to do the Cologne Triathlon earlier this month - a shame because it has a great atmosphere as well as a quite scenic running route, is impeccably organised, and on the morning of the shorter distances there are several children's competitions, always heart-warming to watch. Next year again...

For lack of more exciting news, a few reading suggestions:

- You will have heard about Philippe Croizon, who swam 21 miles across the English Channel last weekend in a little over 13 hours - although he lost his arms and legs in an accident more than fifteen years ago. The British Independent  newspaper had a lengthy article about this amazing and truly humbling achievement, and there is more information on his (French) website. Way to go, Philippe, you have made every-day athletic challenges seem like very tiny fish... tadpoles really. Chapeau!

- In her always worthwhile New York Times blog, Tara Parker Pope linked this article by Ariel Kaminer yesterday, which describes a touching example of why many same-sex couples dream of marriage rather than some legal construct that still leaves some unions more equal than others.

In the USA, the Matthew Shepard Foundation has been advocating true equality and acceptance in all areas of life for many years now. Please visit their newly designed website and if you can, please consider supporting their tireless work with a donation.

- And on a much more practical note: Finally, Martha Rose Shulman's yummy Recipes for Health  are available in book form. Of course you still find them online, too. 

I'm sorry that things have been awfully quiet around here in recent weeks, but I've been in the throes of an army of flu bugs and not really up for much. There will be more regular posts again soon, promised.

Yesterday the German TV channel RTL aired a very fair and quite charming and multi-layered short documentary on the Cologne Games. (Pity they took so long...) The language is German of course (although there are quite a few voices in English, too) but even just watching the images is worth the about 24 minutes. You can watch it here in full and for free. 

The past two weeks have been spent catching up with the rest of my life and with my marvellously patient family and friends. In the past days, my thoughts have also been returning to the questions of how to continue this website and its intent, as well as experience the spirit of this kind of event again - before 2014. 

And here's an idea that seemed a bit crazy at first but that I find myself liking better and better: I'm going to keep the site running, and I'm going to try and do one Olympic triathlon (or comparable competition) for charity each summer in the years to come. In spring I'll decide on three causes and I'll then spend the months around my race presenting the charities and their goals here and raising funds for them.

I'll certainly get to visit some beautiful places that way: Rotterdam, unfortunately, is undoable for the Eurogames next year because of work - but there'll be the North America Outgames in Vancouver! Right now they don't have a triathlon planned, but just doing the half-marathon there may be an even better option because it will lighten my luggage enormously and make all further exploring down the West Coast so much more fun.  

The Eurogames will next be in Budapest in 2012, the World Outgames in Antwerp in 2013, and then of course the Gay Games in Cleveland four years from now. At present the only drawback to this scenario is the fact that Antwerp has announced a half-Ironman distance triathlon... gulp... I'm not sure I'll be up to that.

But on the other hand: Those are a lot of training months ahead - and this is certainly a motivating incentive to keep going. And it's not as if I wasn't used to being slow...

Gathering for the Opening Ceremony  (Thursday, 08-12-2010)

Volunteers carrying the country teams' signs

 From Northern Germany...

... to the Southern hemisphere

Teams proudly wearing their country's colours...

... or their city's

I'm sure this will be a familiar feeling for the many Gay Games veterans I met during the week in Cologne: It isn't all that easy to return to one's everyday life and environment, is it? All these encounters, all these images, so many faces and stories and emotions... they all need a bit of sorting out in my mind and memory. 

So there will be a few more impressions and comments to follow here, but right now let me just share with you the little sticker I bought from a stall at Neumarkt. I think I'll put her on my bike, to remind both of us of this adventure in pride and slowness...

Apparently not all e-mail programs/providers will process the rather new ".eu" domain of this site yet. (I couldn't register the more common ".de" domain because it was already taken). But this new address should work reliably now: charity.triathlon(at)yahoo.de.

So, if you have tried to contact me and couldn't, or if you have never received a reply to your message because it got stuck in virtual Never Land, I sincerely apologise for the nuisance and will be delighted to catch up if you will please resend it.  

No new messages

Not that I mean to pester you or anything but... ummm, may I for a second interrupt your glee (or compassion) at the plights overcome by the slowest female Olympic triathlete of these Gay Games (happy as I am that you're enjoying my blog :-) and draw your attention to what this site and project are really all about?

Now would be the time to whip out your credit card and revel in your own generosity...

Seriously, please have a look at the beneficiaries' work (by clicking on their logos on the left or their names in the menu), and please support one, or two, or all three causes with a donation. And please encourage other people in your life to do the same.

Thank you!

Lambda
Youth
Network

&

The picture on the right is last week's page of my desk calendar (some place in Southern Italy), and it aptly illustrates yesterday's experience: there's the hazy sunshine, the water, the distance (not the topography) - and the sting, too. Oh, and the solitude, but I'll come to that.

Where do I begin? Perhaps with the weather, which kindly didn't bring rain (like before and during the Opening Ceremony on Saturday) nor storm but a cool morning, a beautiful sunrise and a hot noon.

I'm not sure I'll ever get used to the combination of pre-race jitters and trying to get myself and my stuff organised with any amount of level-headedness - so far, it's always the jitters that win. I try to enjoy the excitement and ignore my shaking hands, dropping of items and having to retrace my steps for something I forgot. 

At 7.30 am, there we are in the refreshing but not cold water, exchanging last words and gestures of encouragement and waiting for the signal. I start in the back and, reminding myself of all my weeks of "thoughtful" freestyle practice, set out at a mildly energetic pace that I trust will last me through the 1500 metres. The tri swim leg in Cologne is always done on a regatta course, so there are lane buoys on ropes running five feet or so below the surface and you can swim straight without sighting and see your own progress, too. And I'm moving along nicely, I think - until I look up and see everyone (except for one brave British lady who is truly hanging in) wayyyy ahead of me. Holy moly!

I have to speed up or people will have gone home before I'm done - but that hasn't been part of my training at all; my only goal has been to go the distance and still feel strong on the bike. And working harder in freestyle right now means a lot more turbulence for a negligible increase in speed. So, breaststroke it has to be. I'm not even sure I'm faster this way but at least I can reassure myself that the gap isn't widening, and I dare not look down again for longer spells. My poor legs, I meant to go easy on you during the swim...

Thus I come out of the water and leave the transition area almost dead last. Oh dear, so soon already. And I don't catch up either: In the sprint races last summer I was able to pass quite a few people on the bike at least (although I still rode my hybrid then). This time...  no way. I ride as fast as I dare before the run, which I'm sure isn't fast at all - but I can't even verify that because I moved the little signal-giving thingy on the spokes when assembling my bike and the computer isn't working.

I'm afraid that unless I want to get used to the idea of lagging far behind, I'll have to rethink my approach to cycling at least for part of my training. You see, I don't usually "race". I'll go fast when I feel like it but the motivation behind getting on my bike is what Betsy Laughlin, Terry's daughter, calls "a deeply ingrained sightseeing attitude" in her charming blog article about her own triathlon premiere (in a half-Ironman race!). I've cycled 1,100 kilometres in eleven days (across hilly territory, on a touring bike with panniers) but the idea of simply going as fast as possible without stopping is quite alien to me. I even switched to screw-top bottles years ago because there'd always be a few spots deserving a short (or longer) break and I was tired of sticky hands from leaking bike bottles. Yesterday there wasn't even any scenery to enjoy (on an expressway) but my legs just didn't have more speed in them. 

Anyway, even without counting a few minutes' interruption at the site of a bad crash (the only one, thankfully), where I help the two guys untangle themselves from under their bikes and move those to the side, I come into transition last by a wide margin. And the run will be 11k (it turns out to be 11.6) instead of the standard 10 due to the course layout (which minor detail we only learned when picking up our race packages the day before). Ouch...

Rack bike, change shoes, down a few gulps, take a deep breath, go...

I shuffle into the run, past my sister (who has made a long trip, got up at dawn and is taking the pictures) and my friends with their three small kids cheering me on. It feels incredibly good and almost makes me cry. By now the sun is burning down, it's hot and my legs are getting heavier and heavier. While I'm doing my first lap of two, others pass me on their second one calling out encouragement. On the second lap, many of the sprint distance racers do the same.

So, if it wasn't for one gentleman from San Francisco, who has been at all Gay Games for the past twenty years and whose run-walk mix involves even more walking than mine, I would truly be last among the Olympic participants. He'll finish, too: a huge cheer to you, Kristian!

When I come round the last turn, I see my support team holding up a banner, on which my oldest godson has painted a heart and a long-legged race turtle (who looks way more athletic than me) - so I pick up my feet and indeed kind of run under the finish arch.

Could I have gone any faster? No way. Did I do the my best? Absolutely, the best I could at this point in time. But there's a lot of work ahead before I'll be able to approach this distance at anything resembling race pace.

There's so many lessons to be learned: Training in the three disciplines can't replace hitting the gym for weights. Even overlength swims, rides and runs can't replace loooong bricks. Practising smooth, splash-free freestyle can't replace practising speed, too (and at least having some idea how fast you're going). Happily taking in the scenery on the bike can't replace biting down from time to time and just going hard. If you've trained all winter and finished a half-marathon in spring, it's plain dumb to allow work to get in the way of at least preserving that form into summer. And those fifteen or so pounds really have to go.

The participants' medal, of course...

Some things have proved positive, too: Hot oatmeal consistently makes wonderfully soothing pre-race food. I love my bike, and compact cranks were conceived in Heaven. My knees held up although they make funny crunching sounds while pedalling. It's possible to last the final ninety minutes or so even if not a single calorie is available (I admit that I'd have preferred not to verify that part). I've never experienced more friendly interaction before and during a race, or more tenderness in the periphery. Gay Games spectators and participants will really cheer wildly even for the last person to finish. Oh, and did I mention I made it?   

And should you be in the region and wondering whether what you can see at the Gay Games is serious athleticism: Believe me, it is! There was a lot of pre-race smooching - even while we were treading water waiting for the start signal, which made me tear up and necessitated a last minute goggle removal for defogging - but once the race was on, people were really focussed on looking ahead and giving their best. I'm sure the results can stand up to any other open competition - and the atmosphere is simply amazing.

And me, I look forward now to spending the week cheering for many others...

There'll be a more elaborate report within the next days - for now let me just say I'm elated, grateful, proud, humbled, utterly tired and really sore in lots of interesting places... Talk to y'all soon... 

So, am I ready?  (Saturday, 07-31-2010)

While all my bags (and bike) are indeed packed, I'm not so sure at all that I'm ready to go. (Yes, E, a John Denver line... just for you... :-))

Let's see... I feel less nervous about the swim than I feared, I look very forward to taking my beautiful summer-sky-blue road bike on her first race, and I'm deeply obliged to John Bingham for establishing the notion that it's okay to walk during a run, because I may need to. I know it truly doesn't matter but I'd prefer not to be dead last if at all possible (and I promise to stick around and cheer for the person who is).

These have been weird five or six months, with more overtime at work than I could have anticipated and fewer Utopian training weeks than I had hoped for. Sometimes, when there was the choice between a workout and catching up on an hour of sleep, it was the nap that won. And then I spent a hundred hours or two setting up this project and site, too. 

It is certainly hard to imagine that I finished a half-marathon in March... Today I fear that I couldn't cover 21 kilometres much faster than at a brisk hiking pace even with a hungry and very persistent (and very slow) predator coming after me the whole time. But it'll be 10k on Sunday and I can do that.

So yes, I trust that I'll finish, and finish "vertical", too - beyond that it feels impossible to say. I'm not nearly as prepared or as confident (not to mention as lean) as I'd planned to be, I won't be able to go as strongly, or as un-slowly, as I'd have wished to, especially on the run. And we may all have to be a bit careful during the bike leg since right now the weather forecasts feature ugly words like showers and, gulp, thunder storms.

Does it matter? No, of course it doesn't. It's the Gay Games and we'll be there and have a blast, no matter how far ahead or how far back or how wet and mud-splattered. It's my first Olympic distance (I was delighted to discover on Thursday that I won't be the only newbie) and there will hopefully be many more in which to improve. Having set out to race so late in life it would, after all, be nice to enjoy a few years of shrinking finishing times.

So, am I ready? Well, I'm as ready as I'm going to get - and should you have a thought or prayer to spare on Sunday morning between 7.30 and 11.00+++ CET, they will be so very welcome and appreciated.

Volunteering  (Thursday, 07-29-2010)

I'm only just returning late in the evening from spending the day handing out participant badges in Cologne. What an amazing day, what an amazing assortment of people from all over the world and truly from all age groups, both arriving as athletes and companions and helping as volunteers.

And everyone was so friendly, everyone was patient and gracious when there were little procedural knots to be untied here and there, and so many seemed to feel as we did standing there welcoming them: what a very special occasion this was. There was joking and teasing and banter and flirting - and there was a whole lot of sharing stories and experiences as diverse as our backgrounds. 

A big thanks to all of you: I had a blast today working alongside you.

And yes, there are still lots of jobs available - be part of it!  

www.games-cologne.de

Lake swim  (Wednesday, 07-28-2010)

To put it mildly, it's pretty late in the year - let alone before a race - to get started on open water swimming.

But I was reluctant to move my training to the lake this summer because I was still so focussed on improving my stroke and getting that part right, and felt this was the most acute challenge to be tackled. I even did endless circles and drills in the abandoned (36-yard) beginners' pool on overcast days, savouring the absence of all distraction and being motivated to really keep my butt and legs up by the closeness of the tiles below.

So it was only yesterday that I ventured out into the wet unknown of the nearest lake - where thankfully there are always divers just getting in or out and hikers/runners/cyclists using the paths and enjoying the view so that it's safe to swim alone. And I was so happy to find that not only did I feel comfortable, but all that practising and focussing has really paid off and I was able to swim relaxed and (mostly) straight for half an hour (at which point it became too chilly without a long wetsuit). I didn't even face my familiar tummy-queasiness issue. (But my arms and shoulders are sore today from the cold).

Not an idealised postcard impression, believe me...

www.npkrka.hr

The lake in Cologne is already too warm to need a long suit, which constitutes another item on my yippee list, for swimming in my short suit will mean that I can breaststroke during the final quarter or so, see where I'm going, get my legs warmed up and feel less dizzy getting out. And it peels off so much more easily, too. 

I have to say though that I do miss swimming in places where there's something to look at below. All those minutes of dark green nothingness with just bubbles for company get as boring as the tiles in swimming pools. Aren't there triathlons in Greece or Croatia or other places with fish, crabs, plants, starfish and sun-lit crystal blue- or turquoiseness?

Or perhaps I'll really have to look into a holiday adventure a very dear friend (who sadly doesn't swim...) suggested already last year: island-hopping by swim in the gorgeous Adriatic Sea along the Dalmatian coast. It even includes visiting, and swimming next to, the waterfalls in Krka National Park, one of the most breathtakingly beautiful places I've ever been (and swum... :-). Yeah, I'll have to give that some serious thought for sure...

News from Alice Smeets in Haiti  (Friday, 07-23-2010)

Alice usually blogs in English but this morning she posted a long article in German (updated on July 28th). And yesterday an interview with her was published in the culture blog of 3sat TV station (sorry, only in German).

In both she confirms what I wrote about last week: Help is not getting off the ground in many places, and people are becoming more and more disheartened and desperate.

So many months after the earthquake, the refugee camps still offer only simple tents, many of which were already destroyed by the first storm of the approaching hurricane season earlier this month. And of the 10 billion dollars promised by the international donor conference in March, less than 10% have arrived, with no clear perspective of whether and when there will be more.

Alice's newly founded charity Viv Timoun (Creole for "Live, little person") supports HaitiCare's orphanage and school as does my project. She has known the people working there for a long time and usually stays with them when she is in Port-au-Prince.

You can often find recent news in English on her blog, and of course many photos, too.

Please consider making a donation to HaitiCare and please encourage your friends to do the same.  

Alice Smeets

Expanding...  (Wednesday, 07-21-2010)

Just wanted to let you know that you can now find this project on Facebook, too.
(Can you imagine that my software is so ancient it marks that word as a spelling mistake?) 

Well, you won't need to venture there since you're already reading this here (and I'm so very pleased that you do)- but perhaps it will invite a few more people to drop by.

As always, thank you for recommending this site.