Tiger the Caddie?

Last Monday Tiger Woods returned to Torrey Pines in beautiful San Diego, but not to golf. Instead he caddied for John Abel, winner of the “Tee Off With Tiger” online sweepstakes sponsored by Buick. This is such a great picture that I can’t help but fill in some dialogue. Mine is below. What do you hear them saying?

Abel: “This looks like a tough one Tiger. What would you do here?”

Tiger: “Well, I would push this putt along a path eleven inches left of the true line, with just enough touch to clear the fringe but still allow the natural slope of the green to pull the ball back and down, dropping into the hole dead center… I have no idea what you are going to do.”

AP Photo/Lenny Ignelzi

(This post was first published here.)

Filed under: BUYERS, LENDERS, REALTORS, SELLERS, TAO OF SPORT, Fun, Tiger Woods

A Song and A Smile

A week or so ago I was out for an early morning run through Balboa Park.  This is one of San Diego’s gems and part of what makes living here worth the cost.  It was daybreak and quiet; mostly the sound of my own footsteps echoing across the Spanish style buildings that house the many museums and exhibits.  Occasionally I would see another runner or a young couple up early for a walk (or maybe they were still out, ending their evening with a walk).  Mostly though, it was a wonderful run of solitude.  As I came up on the little art village I turned in to its plaza.  Here, in a few hours time, there would be artists selling paintings and sculptures and all forms of creativity.  I still don’t know why I veered in, the plaza does not go anywhere.  It is just a cul-de-sac of stone pavers lined by small, decoratively painted arts and crafts buildings used during the regular business hours of the park.

There was one other person on the street that early, unloading paintings from his van and arranging them just so.  He looked to be in his late fifties and he looked to be happy, but more than that he looked interesting.  I found myself slowing down as I made the turn to go back by him; I guess I wanted to connect somehow… there was something about this guy.  So I stopped and said hi.  We talked a bit about his paintings and we talked a bit about my run and pretty soon we were just talking.  The kind of talk that is comfortable, like you already know each other.  His name was Steve and he was almost 74 years old, yet we had a lot in common.  He had been a shot-putter and football player just as I had.  We knew the same names, although he knew them as the guys that came along after him and I knew them as the guys I tried to emulate while growing up.  Our philosophies were similar and our backgrounds too.  It was a rewarding conversation and could have ended at any time with a great deal of satisfaction.  But it didn’t.  It got better.

At one point we were comparing big scars and even bigger tales.  Steve had grown up tough in a tough neighborhood.  I asked him if he had ever imagined back then that he would be an artist today.  He answered yes without a moment’s delay.  He knew back then he was going to be an artist and he never wavered.  It was the one area of his life where he had gone against his mother’s wishes.  But that was OK Steve said, because he had his father’s blessing – and this is where the story gets most interesting.

His father was not home much and when he was, he was drunk.  His father was an alcoholic, spending time in and out of asylums.  One spring morning, when Steve was in the tenth grade, his father called him into the living room.  Steve told me how excited he was because after school that day he was going to pitch for the first time in his life.  He thought maybe his dad wanted to give him some baseball advice.  He didn’t.  But he did share with Steve two things that would change his life forever.  First, he told Steve to always respect and obey his mother… except when it came to this goal of becoming an artist.  Steve’s mom wanted him to go to college, then maybe med school or law school after that.  But his father, who had always wanted to be an artist himself but never had the chance, told Steve that in this one area, it was OK to disobey his mother.  “Go be an artist and don’t ever let anyone talk you down.”  Steve told me the memory of that conversation was etched in his mind like few things are.  Why such an indelible image?  His pitching debut later that day was a disaster.  He went home to tell his father, but arrived to find his father had passed.  His last gifts to his son were permission to follow his dream… and a nursery rhyme.

Steve told me that his father sat him down that morning after giving him permission to be who he was and said: “I’m going to give you a secret now.  It is the most important song you will ever hear and it will help you as you go through life.”  Then his father sang and explained all at the same time:

Row, row, row your boat – “This means work for what you want and be persistent.”

Gently down the stream – “Don’t fight the flow.  Allow life to unfold.”

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily – “You are on God’s green earth to enjoy life.  Laugh often.”

Life is but a dream – “Steve” his father said, “you won’t understand this part for a while.  But your life is a dream… it’s your dream.”

I shook Steve’s hand after that and went back to my run.  Could not stop singing that song all the way home.  Could not stop smiling either.  The simplest ideas often have the greatest impact:  a child’s nursery rhyme.  Try it out next time life throws you a lemon and you can’t find your lemonade stand.  Sing it to yourself and see if you don’t smile a little too.

(This post was first published here.)

Filed under: LIFE THAT POPs, TAO OF SPORT, Row Your Boat, Success

Finding Meaning in Triathlon

I raced in a Sprint Triathlon last week. I should make it clear here that the term “raced” is a complete bastardization of the word any English speaking person with a basic education might understand. When I say I “raced”, what I mean is that I showed up to the race; I put on a racing uniform, I completed the course within the prescribed time and then I enjoyed the complimentary food court. To use the word raced as it is commonly understood is to imply that I showed up with the intention of beating someone or placing high on some list. This is generally not my goal as a Clydesdale when I approach any triathlon. It is the furthest thing from my mind when entering a “sprint” triathlon.

Sprint Triathlon, by the way, is another glaring misuse of the English language. I remember the first time I did a triathlon of this distance. It took me in excess of one hour and fifteen minutes. I am not sure how an event that takes more than an hour has come to be called a sprint. Only in relation to the ludicrously long races of the Olympic, Half and full Ironman distances could any rational person call this a sprint. Of course, most triathletes are not rational in the typical sense of that word either. Triathletes spend their time discussing ways to lighten their bike and lower their profile; thereby finding new ways to exceed 50 mph while decreasing the cushion of space between them and the unforgiving earth. They track how many heart rate zones they have trained in and whether they spent the appropriate percentage of time in their LT zone. They discuss whether or not it is healthier to wash cottage cheese before eating it. No, rational is not always the first word one thinks of when one thinks of a triathlete. This is never more obvious then at a sprint triathlon. During the warm-ups at a race of this distance you can hear people discussing how they are going to go for a long run later to round out their training for the day. Or you might hear them discuss their max heart rate and how they are going to ‘red line” it all the way. “Red line” it all the way??? I am trying to count the aide stations and decide whether or not I should wear one of those fluid filled backpacks for my long distance hydration needs!!!

It all turned out just fine. As a matter of fact, I was not even entered in the full race but rather as one leg of a relay team. All I had to do was the bike leg of the triathlon. I remember thinking to myself when the opportunity arose to be on this relay team: how cool would it be to not worry about swimming or running and just get on my bike and red line it all the way? Then I realized how short the bike leg was, so I brought a trainer in order to get a nice long warm-up in before the race and my regular gear so that I could go on a long ride after the race in order to round out my training day. You know how it is: I need to get a large percentage of time in my aerobic heart rate zone or I will bonk during the long races. Besides, I want to test out a new pair of titanium seat post clamp screws to see if I can sense the 8 gram savings in weight. Yes, it turned out to be a very nice day. I am just glad that I am not turning into one of those irrational, obsessed triathletes that can not enjoy the race. Now, if I can figure out a way to shave another 15 grams from my bike I might move up a spot in the rankings…

Filed under: TAO OF SPORT

Introduction

I am preparing for Ironman Wisconsin in September and have decided to keep a journal along the way. You might be surprised at how many funny things happen while training for an event that takes as long as an Ironman. At least, a lot of funny things happen to me.

01 May 2007 – INTRODUCTION
When you tell someone that you completed an Ironman, you often get a blank stare. I find that a little familiarity helps and I will say something like, “you know, an Ironman triathlon, like you see on TV”. The other person’s face lights up with recognition and they ask how I liked Hawaii. After explaining that Ironman is a distance, not a destination I get asked what the distances are. An Ironman, I tell them in my proudest voice, is a 2.4 mile swim followed by a 112 mile bike ride and capped off with a 26.2 mile marathon. At this point, I usually find myself looking back at the blank stare again. While the Ironman distance is awe inspiring, I think the blank stare has more to do with me. You see, I am roughly one and half regulation sized triathletes. My name is Sean… and I am a Clydesdale.

Growing up there was never a hint that something was wrong with me. I played all the major sports and excelled at most. I was a bit big for baseball, but found a home behind the plate (baseball, not dinner). As I got older, however, and found my true home behind the plate (dinner, not baseball) it became obvious that baseball was not my sport. In basketball I was the prototypical Power Forward. By that I mean that I could clear the boards like nobody’s business, but I pretty much had to pass the ball right away because the clock would run out on me if I tried to bring the ball up court on my own. In football I began to really find myself. I was a lineman and a very fast one by “big man standards”. I thought that football might be my athletic calling… until I discovered shot-put. Shot-put is that funny sport in Track where very large men see who can toss a cannonball the farthest. You have probably never witnessed this event in person, as they usually tucked us out behind the bleachers somewhere so that our yelling would not scare women and children. In this sport I excelled and saw some real success. At my peak I was 280lbs and a very accomplished shot-putter. My peak was fun but I eventually retired. By “retired” I mean that I graduated from college and the gravy-train stopped. Faced with the reality of working to pay my bills and put food on the table (quite a lot of food as a matter of fact), my training suffered and eventually I “retired”. I did keep some of my old habits though, not least among them the eating habit required to maintain the muscle mass and size of a shot putter on a very active training regimen. Unfortunately, I neglected to maintain the actual training regimen. Fast forward a decade and you have a 320lb man woefully out of shape taking a long look in the mirror… actually it was more of a wide look. It was there and then that I decided to get myself back into shape. Having been a large athlete all my life I made the only sane choice available to me: I decided to join the wonderful world of endurance athletes! It certainly seemed like a good idea at the time.

I told my friends that I was going to lose weight and do a triathlon. I always got back this look. It is hard to describe. There is a one-liner by Henny Youngman, an old stand-up comic, that goes like this: “I just flew in from Pittsburgh, and boy are my arms tired.” Only marginally funny 50 years ago. Now imagine telling that joke to a child. They know you can not fly and even if you could, why wouldn’t you take a plane? The look you get from that child, the eyes that seem to say “man, are you stupid”; that is the look I got from friends and family when I announced my triathlon plans.

But here I am, 100lbs and one Ironman later. Do I feel better? Am I in tremendous shape? Have I added years to my life? Yes, yes, and yes. Do I still get that look from friends and family… more so now than when I started. That is OK though because I know they still support me. In much the same way that a parent might indulge a child digging a hole in the back yard that will reach all the way to China, or a spouse might “understand” the red sports car in the driveway of a man running head long into middle age; my friends and family smile and tell me to keep trying.

Over time, my goal is to share with you more about the journey from world class shot-putter to fat man to triathlete to Ironman. I will share what it is like to be a Clydesdale and how we are viewed by the other triathletes (over their shoulder as they pass us normally). I will touch on the trials and tribulations of making an insane decision to join a sport so clearly not designed for me (when will they make Goo packs in the large, economy size?). Mostly, however, I will share the journey of triathlon, and life, from a little bit different perspective. Who knows, with a little luck and a lot of digging, I may reach China yet.

Filed under: TAO OF SPORT

Big Tears for a Big Man

On Saturday, April 21, 2007 Parry O’Brien died and the loss, especially to me, is a big one. Most people have no idea who Parry O’Brien was and what he accomplished, which is all the sadder. While attending USC in the early 1950s, Parry looked at how he put the shot and decided there was a better way. He changed the technique and revolutionized the sport. He went on to set countless world records, including being the first human to ever put the shot over 60’. He won gold medals in the ’52 and ’56 Olympics, silver in the ’60 Olympics and placed fourth in ’64 – his fourth trip to the world’s greatest athletic stage. He was an ambassador of shot put and never let on that he was aware how profoundly and permanently he had rewritten the record books or the sport.

A lover of competition, Parry eventually retired from shot put when it became too difficult on his body to throw. By the age of 50 he looked for new challenges and found Master’s swimming. He once told my coach that he loved swimming, not because he excelled at it, but because he didn’t. He saw a lifetime of learning ahead of him and that thrilled Parry O’Brien to the core.

As a young man beginning his athletic career as a shot putter, I knew who Parry O’Brien was and considered him an icon. Imagine my thrill a couple of years ago when I learned I would have the opportunity to meet him at a local swim meet in which I was participating. I had a long list of questions I wanted to ask: everything from how he came to change shot put so drastically to how it felt being in four Olympics. I wanted to know how he trained back then and what he thought of the sport now. I was positively brimming with questions and excitement. The big day arrived; I met the big man and guess what? We spent the entire time discussing swimming. Parry O’Brien aged gracefully and never gave up his love for learning or competing. He lived in the moment, he was always ready to share and he was kind to a fault. The world lost a big man last weekend, and it has nothing to do with size.

Filed under: TAO OF SPORT

How Fat is Your Lampshade?

As many of you know, I compete in triathlons. Last Saturday I completed the California Half Iron Man in Oceanside. I broke six hours, which is a pretty good mark for anyone; but more importantly, I set a new personal best. It was, by all accounts, a good race and one that I was very happy with afterward.

A couple of days later I received an email from the company that takes pictures during the race, extending me the opportunity to buy pictures of myself swimming, biking and running. This is quite common now at nearly all races. I sat down and looked at the pictures after this great race and all I could think to myself was: “Look at how fat you are. Why can’t you get down to the body size you should be? What are you doing out there? You do not belong in a race with all those healthy people.” Those were my thoughts. The truth of the matter is this: if they were to somehow send me the pictures before the race… I would not do the race! My hang-ups, my fears really, would actually keep me out of this race I so enjoyed.

Now I know how crazy that sounds and yet how often in life do we “get” the pictures before we ever do the event? How often do we see ourselves as too fat or too inexperienced or too old or too young or too ignorant or too sensitive? Maybe we picture ourselves not having enough, or not deserving enough, or just plain not enough. How many times have our fears prevented us from picking up the phone or knocking on a door or “asking for the sale”, or a raise, or a date?

After thinking about this a little I realized that the people who know me, the people who like me… certainly the people who love me, do not see me as fat. They see the light inside of me. Then I realized that we can take the warmth and confidence that comes from being seen only for our light and we can carry it with us to meet strangers. Soon I began to think about all the times I did not go somewhere and all the times I did not meet someone new and all the opportunities I missed throughout my life because of my fears.
I was so worried about the lampshade… that I turned off the light.

My thought for today… my wish really, for all of you, is that you go out today and you shine your light.

To Your Success,

Sean Purcell

Filed under: BUYERS, INVESTORS, LENDERS, LIFE THAT POPs, REALTORS, SELLERS, TAO OF SPORT, Success, Triathlon

Random Thoughts Before an Ironman

IM Wisconsin minus 3 days

• Today I start a three day nutrition plan developed specifically to carbo-load, thereby maximizing my glucose levels before the race (apparently my fat levels are A-OK). Old habits die hard, however, and I have had to make some prudent adjustments. For instance, the plan calls for me to completely give up my nightly frozen yogurt for 100% fruit juice. I rewrote the plan and where it says fruit juice I substituted non-fat frozen yogurt. There is nutritional dedication and then there is insanity. After one night I have to say that non-fat yogurt is alright, but not on a par with the real thing. If it were not for the fact that I graciously increased my yogurt serving from one cup to one pint per night (due to the lower calories), I would probably give the whole thing up and go back to ice cream.
• This taper is killing me. I am positive that I got it all wrong and everyone else here got it right. I can see it in their eyes: the look of confidence that comes from being completely ready. I am sure if I just get a quick 12 mile run in tonight all will be fine.
• I must be well hydrated. I have been chugging down water, my urine has lost all color and I cannot go more than 45 minutes without a visit to the bathroom. Is it normal to ignore the emergency exit maps in a building and instead memorize the public bathrooms on each floor?
• In the elevator of my hotel there is a cardboard advertisement for a soft, warm chocolate chip cookie. It is even life size. Chocolate chip cookies, hmmmmm (doing my best Homer Simpson imitation), another sacrifice to the gods of Ironman. This being Wisconsin – the Dairy State – maybe their cookies are actually nutritious. Maybe their cookies are a secret weapon. Maybe their cookies will kick in right at mile 20 and be the difference between hitting the wall and sprinting the last 10K. Something to think about.
• I just checked out the swim course. Wow, is it long when laid out in one big rectangle. I have swum the distance many, many times in practice, but generally only 25 yards at a time. I am one of those revolutionary swimmers that never swims farther than good technique will allow, so I do the customary gutter hug at each end of my 25 yard lane. When you lay 2.4 miles out end to end, however, it looks a lot longer and… WHAT?!?! I was just informed that this is a TWO lap swim. It is quite obvious to me that whomever they hired to measure this thing was thinking meters instead of feet. I am going to look into this.
• I wonder if anyone is going to notice the big bite taken out of that cardboard cookie in the elevator. I wonder if roughage is good for you this close to a race. I wonder what the hell I am doing here.
• Time for bed and the end of my first day in nutritional lock-down. I am seriously beginning to wonder if it is possible to get hyponatremia before a race.

IM Wisconsin minus 2 days

• This morning I went down to the “practice swim”. This is where I “practice” looking like I belong here. Everyone else has obviously done this race before. They are all so confident and fit. What the hell am I doing here? (That question sounds familiar.)
• After hearing more than once about the deceptive bike course with all its rollers, I decided to make use of my rental car, a 2006 Mitsubishi Outlander SUV, and drive the course. Two hours later, somewhere between a beautiful farm and a field of cows, I got out my trusty bike and went for a 30 minute ride. Let me just say that as Ironman bike courses go… this Mitsubishi is a great car. Due to the superior suspension I did not feel any of the bumps and ruts which, as it turns out, constitute most of the roads in Wisconsin. Plus, the car is so air tight I never noticed the wind, which blows constantly and from all directions. Possibly most important for a car and certainly for a triathlete: the sound system was great. I was so caught up singing along to my favorite tunes, I remained blissfully oblivious to the fact that there is not one level piece of road in or around all of Madison. If you are in the market for an SUV, definitely check out the Mitsubishi. If you are in the market for a nice 112 mile ride, do not go near Madison, Wisconsin.
• Went to the expo today and bought some nice new bike shorts. I know I am not supposed to do anything new before a big race, but they went so well with my nice new bike jersey. I purchased that jersey at the same time I was buying my brand new aerodynamic helmet (very shiny and still in its box). I also bought new bike socks, new running socks and ordered new inserts for my shoes. Still, one should not experiment right before a big race so I am sticking with the same chamois cream I have always used. I don’t want to make any rookie mistakes out there.
• This is my second day of the three day nutrition plan. Within this plan I am flying in the face of conventional wisdom and trying new things right before my race. For instance, the lack of chocolate, the change to non-fat yogurt and the absence of alcohol are all new to me. I am not worried though. I won a bet in college that required me to drink a gallon of milk in one hour. This was a popular bet back then due to the forceful and sometimes Technicolor ejection most people experienced. I have, however, always had a bit of a Billy goat stomach and finished off the hour and the milk with a pepper & cheese steak sandwich. Come to think of it… that was around the time people started to refer to me as a Clydesdale. I wonder if that is a coincidence. I guess we may never know what happens to make some people put on weight.
• Ended the evening with a dinner hosted by Ironman North America and a talk by the people putting on this fabulous race. Mike Reilly – “the voice of Ironman” – got up and pointed out that there were 1100 of us first time Ironman participants in the room. He then commented on how the course was a “bitch” and asked us all “what the hell we were thinking”. Oh great, even he thinks I am nuts. In all fairness, he probably went on to put everything into perspective but I will never know. I was caught up in a heated discussion over who had rights to the last dinner roll on the table. (Don’t let anyone kid you, carbo loading is a serious business.)
• One final thought: the Doctor in charge of medical aid for Ironman Wisconsin got up and introduced himself to us. He pointed out that he does not know what it takes to complete an Ironman as he has never done one. His exact words were “Unlike all of you, I am not insane!” Good God, I hope I do not get hurt Sunday. I envision him in the medical tent doing the old routine:

Me: “Doc, my xyz started to hurt around mile 120 of the Ironman.”  Doc: “Then stop doing Ironman.”

IM MOO minus 1 day

• Been thinking a lot about the dinner and meeting last night. Met many interesting people and had many nice conversations. Unfortunately, they were all the same nice conversation: will the rain and the wind stop. By my count, the official consensus for race day was “sunny and warm”. I suppose when you gather together over 2400 people that have, without benefit of gun to their head or other coercion, chosen to do an IM, you are going to find an abundance of optimism. I, myself, am expecting blue skies, calm water, temps in the low 70s and a rainbow over my head.
• Some stats from last night’s meeting:
• Over 2600 registered for the race – largest field ever and a testament to the quality of IM Wisconsin and its supporters. At least that is what the Race Director said. I have no idea why so many of us chose a race that has set the record for lowest completion percentage (IM MOO 2005 – 82%)
• All 50 states and 23 countries represented, including one from my ancestral homeland of Ireland. He continued to carbo-load right through dinner. I have no idea how many beers he drank, but I am going to send an email requesting his nutritional plan for next year. Hell, I am already making the bathroom trips. Might as well go for a good cause.
• My age group, 40-44, is the second largest age group after 35-39, with 373 participants. I was hoping for closer to ten participants, thereby increasing my odds of qualifying for Hawaii. Accordingly, I have reworked my numbers: instead of an 18 mph average on the bike, I need to goose that up a tad to around 21.5 mph. I also need to pick up the pace on my run; possibly dropping from a planned 10 minute pace down to around 7:30. I wonder if the adrenaline rush that comes on race day will get me to these numbers. I am leaving my expected swim time alone just to be safe.
• Dropped off my transition bags and bike today. Nothing quite makes this feel so real as racking my bike and knowing the next time I see it, I will be spitting up lake water and trying desperately to remember what my nutrition plan is for the next 6 hours. Speaking of nutrition; I wonder how my Irish brother-in-triathlon is doing this morning.
• At the expo I stopped by the Maui Waui booth and got a fruit smoothie. They gave me a commemorative cup and a lei. Thought about calling back home and telling my girlfriend that I got laid… or is it lei’d? Geez, what a pathetic joke. (Note to self: puns, by their very definition, do not work when you have to write them down).
• No joke could be as bad as the Doctor’s joke last night. He was speaking of hyponatremia and told us that we could “have all the water (we) could drink… during the swim”. Not even a pun and it looks bad written down. Maybe the problem is with my computer. I feel like tapping the screen and saying: “Hey, is this thing on?” (I wonder if I can load a sound graphic that will play a rim-shot whenever I want. Now that would come in handy.
• Walking back to the hotel tonight it occurred to me: so this is what it feels like. This is what it feels like to be healed, rested and recovered. Wow, is this nice. I spent so many months training I forgot what normal feels like, never mind what really good feels like. Best of all, I have an entire 20 minutes to enjoy it. Then I have got to get inside and get to bed. I am sure I will not toss and turn for more than 3 or 4 hours. Ironman, here I come!

IM MOO plus 1 day

• WOW!!! Greatest thing I have ever done. No, not completing the Ironman (although that ranks as one of the greatest); no, the greatest thing I have ever done is making it out of my hotel bed this morning. I have pains on top of pains on top of areas that I have never felt pain in before. I would love to bask in the glory of this moment but even my basking muscles hurt. Hey everyone, look at the face of a winner. (It is grimacing).
• My brother and his family drove all the way down from Minnesota to watch me in the race. My brother is a bit of a smartass. During the second loop of the run he waited for me to go by so that he could cheer. It was difficult for me to hear him, however, what with his mouth full and that delicious smelling burger and fries next to him. As I started my shuffle up the hill (shuffle is how a polite athlete describes walking very slowly) I could see him wondering whether eating in front of me was wrong. If he only knew that the bag his burger came in would have tasted better than Goo and Gatorade at that point.
• Went to the expo with my brother to gather my belongings and check on my Hawaii slot possibilities (…pause for the laughter to stop…). He looked at the rather funny, loping, stiff legged limp so many of us exhibited and coined the phrase “The Ironman roll”. Like I said, a real smartass.
• Signed up for next year’s race. Hard to fathom, really. Just sort of happened. I do know this: if they had held the registration last night, right after the race, it would be a heck of a lot easier for people at home to sign up. Somehow though, today, it seemed like a good idea. I guess that, knowing what I know, I want to go after this race and this course again. Confidence must rebound faster than the body because I think I can do better. As a matter of fact, I am fairly sure that next year I can nail it! DAMMIT, I AM GOING OVER TO THE HAWAII REGISTRATION DESK RIGHT NOW AND SEE WHAT THE QUALIFYING TIME WAS IN MY AGE GROUP! NEXT YEAR I WILL CONQUER ALL!!! – Another IM junkie is born.

Filed under: TAO OF SPORT

Winning One Hour in the Wind Tunnel

originally written 21 April 2006

THE CONTEST:

GREAT news!

In honor of the media day around the re-naming of The San Diego Air & Space Technology Center Low Speed Wind Tunnel on Friday April 28th, Competitor Magazine, The San Diego Air & Space Wind Tunnel and B&L Bikes are putting up a FREE hour of time in the tunnel plus a personal bike fit from the legendary Dan Rock of B&L Bikes. A one hour session in the wind tunnel normally goes for $1,000……..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lance Armstrong, Normann Stadler, Faris Al Sultan, Michellie Jones and Heather Fuhr are just a few of the athletes who have had their position refined in the wind tunnel.

There is the possibility that the San Diego Union Tribune as well as some of the local television stations might be at the facility this day. Therefore the entrant must be willing to have his/her session filmed and photographed if needed.

Good luck!

Bob Babbitt
Competitor Magazine

——————————————————————-

MY WINNING RESPONSE:

Dear Bob,

I think there is no question that I should be chosen for the free hour of wind tunnel testing and I will list the reasons why:

1. First and foremost – the new name: The San Diego Air & Space Technology Center LOW SPEED Wind Tunnel. I doubt there is anyone who more aptly fits the description of LOW SPEED than I do. You no doubt would like to maintain a certain level of integrity in this contest and matching the winner to the new name will go a long way toward that end.
2. Also, take a moment and think about the equipment. Day in and day out extremely fit athletes (and by that I mean negative 2% body fat) go in to be tested. Their small profile requires no work by the machinery at all. When was the last time those turbines even saw 100 RPMs? With me in the tunnel you can turn that baby up and make some wind. I am quite confident that the various moving parts will thank you.
3. Even if you don’t think about the equipment, think about the men and women that endeavor every day to improve our lives through more aerodynamic positioning. They must be sick and tired of trying to save an extra .0000001 of drag coefficient on someone who is already more slippery than a greased seal on ice. Imagine their glee when I step into the tunnel. They will actually get to MOVE their slide rules up and down. The sense of accomplishment when they create a difference in drag and an increase in speed that is measured on the left side of the decimal point will warm your heart.
4. Lastly, and possibly most importantly, I am training for my very first IronMan (Wisconsin). This is a race wherein a small change in aerodynamics can make a big difference in my comfort and finishing time. Having sent all of my triathlon allowance to Fly-by-Night Industries for faster goggles and low-calorie race nutrition, I cannot pay for my own wind tunnel testing. I can, however, offer this: You pick a time for my bike split (kind of a “we would be embarrassed beyond this time split” maximum) and I will wear a reversible jersey throughout the bike portion of the race. On one side it will list Competitor Magazine, B& L Bikes and The San Diego Air & Space Technology Center Low Speed Wind Tunnel as proud sponsors. If it looks like I am not going to make the time cut-off you chose, I will reverse my jersey and on the other side it will list Nytro and Jiffy Peanut Butter. You cannot ask for a more specific and dialed-in advertising campaign than that!

One final thought: you are probably receiving lots of letters from people who are very deserving of this opportunity. Many of these people are on the verge of a break through and/or have the chance to actually excel in our sport. I politely ask that you completely ignore those requests and think instead about the little guy (I am using the word little here rather loosely). If there absolutely must be a competitive component then allow me to add this: I look very good to win the Clydesdale National Championship in the 40-44 year old, 220-225lb, former shot-putter division… male (yes, we tend to go overboard in our divisions, but everyone should go home with a medal don’t you think?)

Thank you so much for the opportunity and thanks for sponsoring such a great contest. I hope you had at least half as much fun reading this as I did writing it. I am always envious of the great things you get to do. I try to live vicariously through you (I thought about living vicariously IN you but the whole size difference thing comes into play again). You are truly a dude.

Sincerely (and I mean that),

Sean P Purcell – Clydesdale par excellance
sean@cqfinancial.com
619 460-1300
619 460-1301 fax

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