tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59292099969290264112024-03-13T15:08:58.122-07:00the Pace RabbitSam Holmes Triathlete Elite Amateur Sponsorship BlogSam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-77718453916268003882020-02-18T20:11:00.000-08:002020-02-18T20:25:03.029-08:00Night Run in the Desert<i>I wrote this what seems like a lifetime ago, but was really barely 6 months ago. I was still living in Phoenix, still very unsure of my next steps in life, but, as always, still very focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Night runs have always been cathartic for me. Most of my contemporaries in the endurance sports world pride themselves on being earlybirds, but I am a proud night owl. Looking back on this run, this night, wherever it took me, I'd be lying if I said my feet were the only thing that missed it. </i><br />
<br />
<b>The night was cooler than the day, but still alive with warm petrichor.</b> Not the natural kind, but the minerally, salty kind you only get from the "gray water" coming out of sprinklers in the desert grass. Say what you will about Scottsdale residents' thoughts on environmentalism, at least they had the decency to water their contrived grass at night - though that was probably more out of financial motives than a desire to save the planet.<br />
<br />
His tired legs complained loudly at first. It had been a long day. Soon enough, they found a rhythm with his heart, arms, lungs. <b>His exertion finally breathed the anxiety out of his chest</b> and he found a sort of peace in the tapping of his feet on the pavement, even as his mind wandered.<br />
<br />
His thoughts oscillated between the girl, the job, and the city. <b>The flow mimicked the air coming up from the ground</b> as he passed asphalt parking lots, wet lawns scratched out of the desert, and the hardpan of abandoned space the desert had reclaimed...<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Hot, cold, neutral. Hot, cold, neutral. </b></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
The night passed without time or space according to his ever-moving feet, and he found himself surprised and his feet disappointed when he arrived again at his front step. <b>His chest heaving, slick with sweat, he looked up at the sprinkle of stars available in spite of the city. </b><br />
<br />
In that moment he knew that no matter what his feet may do; board a plane to a far off destination, sit at a desk, hurry to catch a deadline or twist the sheets next to hers, they'd always miss running through the hot night. <b>Awake with the sounds of the city and asleep with the silence of the desert. </b>Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-91099804270226339222019-11-18T11:30:00.003-08:002019-11-18T11:30:59.878-08:00Ironman Shuffle<i>Today marks 1 year since I completed my first-and only to date- 140.6 event. On my best day it would've been one of the hardest things I'd ever done in my life, and this was far from my best day. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I thought this was a good opportunity to reignite my blog. I write a ton, for those of you who don't know, and I'm always a bit leery of sharing it. It feels very vulnerable, and if anyone cared enough to pick it apart, I'm sure they'd find plenty of flaws. At any rate, I write too much to keep it to myself, so here we go. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Yes, obviously this is autobiographical. I use the third-person often when writing about myself. It feels like a shield I can hide behind, rather than admitting I am, in fact, the main character in whatever story. This one is no different, and it recounts my journey somewhere around mile 20 of the full marathon run that day at Ironman Arizona, 2018. This was long after any hopes of a decent finish time had passed, and I just wanted to be done. Even now, as I look back, I think to myself, "Why didn't I just go faster??" It seems so obvious, but in that moment, it was all I could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other....</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Water? Gatorade??”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
head was down. He’d been focusing on his feet, putting one in front of the
other, for what seemed a long time. It took him a moment to realize the
question was directed at him. He looked up and saw a cute blonde, perhaps 16
years old, holding two paper cups in her hand. “Water? Gatorade??” She
repeated. He almost asked if she could rephrase the question. His confusion
evident, her smile faded slightly. He somehow managed to shake his head… He
didn’t remember saying “no” usually being this difficult. He kept his head up,
continued putting one foot in front of the other. Somewhere in his mind, he’d
planned something, and that something required moving forward. That was all he
could focus on.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Finally,
after a line of smiling faces offering various cups, and painfully difficult
negations, he found what he sought. “Coke?” It was a boy this time, younger
than the girl, but no less enthusiastic. He took the cup from the boy with
little more than a curt nod and poured its contents down his throat. It burned,
and nearly came back up, but he coughed and kept it down. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Within
seconds, the heavy blanket of fog lifted from his mind. The words “CAFFEINE”
and “SUGAR” flashed across his vision like a billboard. He remembered riding
his bike as a boy with his father on a hot summer day, and stopping at a gas
station, nearly unable to continue. His dad had bought him a cold coke from the
cooler, and it pulled the stake from his heart then just as it had now. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Suddenly,
he remembered. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
This was to be his day. He’d
selfishly neglected social obligations and put relationships on the back burner
for the past six months in preparation for this day. He had trained and
prepared and poured his being into this day, these few hours, to achieve this
goal. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
There was pain. Beyond the
physical, there was the love he’d taken for granted, the friendships he’d
wounded, and the family who’d once believed in him wholeheartedly and but by
now had probably written him off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The physical and emotional pain he’d suffered – largely at his own fault
– these past months had been heavier than he could have imagined. There were
days he barely had been able to get out of bed, but somehow he had.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of these memories hurt, but nothing like the pain he felt
right now. There was not a thing he owned he wouldn’t have given in that moment
for it to be over. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
But there was also power. As he
lifted his head, he knew there was not a soul on the planet who could do it for
him. He was alone in this moment. His family, friends, and loved ones would
support him and cheer for him through his accomplishments, but his failure, his
struggle, his pain right now was his alone. Somehow, this thought brought him
strength. This godforsaken, windswept spit of road without a single stick of
shade was the hill he would die upon… though he hoped that sentiment was only a
metaphor. This was his day. Yes, it had take the support of countless friends
and loved ones to get him here, many of whom he would never be able to thank
enough, but when the shit hit the fan as it was now, it fell upon him to clean
up. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 304.0pt; text-indent: .5in;">
So he put one
foot in front of the other, if for no other reason than it had gotten him this
far. </div>
<!--EndFragment--><i></i>Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-80005904528706839652017-10-26T14:23:00.002-07:002019-11-18T11:57:39.870-08:00Fiction: Infinity is Green<div class="MsoNormal">
He was proud of himself. More so than he had been in a long
time. The new home was beautiful, and in it he could see his future before him.
On the final day of moving in, they invited all their friends over to
celebrate. They all talked, laughed, and drank and shared long into the night.
Finally, long after she’d gone to bed, he decided it was time to join her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
master bathroom was the crowning glory of the home. It was nearly 800 square
feet of heated tile and marble, with a full wall of mirrors behind dual sinks.
His side cabinet was also a mirror, perpendicular to the wall of mirrors over
the sinks. As he stood brushing his teeth with the cabinet open, he peered into
the dueling mirrors, facing off against each other into infinity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Infinity
is green…” he thought, as he looked at his own reflections shrinking off into
the distance, each one growing smaller and greener than the last.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Just
then he saw it; or rather thought he saw it. Near where his own reflection grew
too small to recognize as him, it was not him at all. The face was charcoal
black, with yellow eyes and pointed teeth. It didn't move with the rest of his
reflections, and in fact did not even seem to be awake, but there it was;
not-him staring back from a mirror. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
slammed the cabinet shut and crawled into bed with her. He was fortunate enough
to write off the black reflection, the not-him, as something he’d drunk or
smoked that night, and nothing to be alarmed over.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next morning he woke up with the worst hangover he could remember. It took a
full three days for the pain in his head to subside. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Weeks
later, after a long day at work and a splitting headache, he let his glass of
scotch turn into two, and then three, and then four, and then when she offered
a smoke he joined her. Later, as he was preparing for bed, he suddenly
remembered the black reflection, the not-him, and couldn’t help his curiosity. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>As
soon as the mirrors were facing each other and he put his own reflection in, he
saw it. It was closer this time, only a dozen reflections away. To his horror,
the not-him was moving this time, but without his other reflections. It seemed to be chanting,
or praying, it's eyes fixed on him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next morning he woke up again with an atrocious hangover, and a headache that
would not go away. He initially had written off the vision in the mirror as
again something he’d drunk or smoked, but after a week of the same splitting
headache he couldn’t get it out of his head. Somewhere between too terrified to
look and know and too terrified to not know, he polished off the last of his
scotch and went to his beautiful master bathroom alone. He opened the cabinet
and looked into the reflections of reflections.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
vision he was met with knocked him off his feet. The black face was closer
still… only 4 or 5 reflections away. It was looking directly at him with its
yellow eyes and repeating the same phrase- prayer or curse- over and over with
a sneering grin over its pointed teeth. It was laughing at him, seeming to enjoy his terror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
did not sleep at all that night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next morning, he woke up and set up an appointment for a CT scan, without
telling her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
following afternoon, he was standing in a sterile room, alone with his doctor,
looking at an image of a brain… his brain, with a spot the size of an acorn
in it that was as black as the face in the mirror.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He
didn’t know how to tell her, but he knew it had to be said. He had half of a
bottle of wine after work, trying to come up with the words to say. After she’d
gone to bed, he finished the other half, and decided to look into the mirrors,
the green of infinity, one last time. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His
own reflection was gone. The black face with yellow eyes and pointed teeth
stretched on into eternity. It was laughing hysterically, roaring even, while
screaming the same thing over and over again, prayer or curse. </div>
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<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The
next morning he woke up dead. </div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-37728842004952336612016-05-30T12:12:00.004-07:002016-05-30T12:12:58.946-07:00Four Days in the LifeIts easily the question I get asked most when I tell people I am a professional triathlete:<br />
<br />
"What?"<br />
<br />
Yes, to be quite concise, most people have no idea what a triathlon is... let alone that you can be a professional at it, or what all that would entail. Up until I qualified for my elite license, I didn't know professionalism was an option either, and I am still learning what all it does entail. Long story short, we all need some answers.<br />
<br />
To be honest I am a bit leery of writing this... I don't like posting details to my workouts for various reasons. On one hand I don't want to brag, and on the other hand I know there's guys who will read this and laugh at the numbers I put up. But, as I stated above, answers are necessary so I'll give away my secrets here.<br />
<br />
This post was in part inspired by some coworkers. They mostly all know that I race triathlons at an elite level, so naturally they like to ask how things are going/what kind of training I'd done that day, etc. One day my training had sounded particularly gnarly to everyone at work, so they were giving me shit at every little mistake I'd make saying I was "too tired from training." I was like, "guys, this was a pretty routine day for me..." To be honest I found their lack of understanding more insulting than their insults, so I decided it was time to pull back the doors and let everyone into a few days of my life.<br />
<br />
I wanted to paint the best picture possible, so I figured a Thursday-Sunday segment was the best cross-section of my life. For no reason in particular I chose May 5-8th. It was about four weeks from my last race, and about two more till the next, so right in the thick of things, and a rather busy weekend at work which made things interesting.<br />
<br />
There are two quotes I live by that I want you to keep in mind as you read about what my days entail. The first is from legendary triathlete Tim Don; "Its not just what you can do in a day, its also what you've done the day before and what you'll do the next day." This theme of consistency is big for me, and it gets overlooked WAY too often.<br />
<br />
The next is from an anonymous Navy SEAL; "Under pressure, you do not rise to the occasion, you sink to the level of our training, and that is why we train so hard." This quote is like a mantra to me when training gets hot and heavy. I ask myself, what level do I want to sink to under pressure? I find that level and I hang on to it like I am too stupid to let go... which I am...<br />
<br />
Without further ado, here is the brutally honest, slightly abridged version of my Mother's Day Weekend:<br />
<br />
<b><u>Thursday, May 5th</u></b><br />
<i>168 lbs, 7 hrs sleep</i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>5:30 AM: Wake up, coach Master's Swimming at the Y Downtown Omaha. Brief nap after coaching before bike ride. </li>
<li>9:00 AM: 3 hr ride w/ steady state intervals. "steady state" is what I would loosely define as half-ironman race pace. For me, this is about 290-325 watts. I did this on a trainer due to some questionable weather, and there were 6x15 mins at this pace with 5' recovery between. The last one was rough, but I had no problem staying within the parameters. </li>
<li>2:00 PM: Mid-long run with hills. 1 hour & 20 mins of steady, aerobic pace with some good punchy hills. Those of you familiar with Omaha know that's about everywhere around here, so I took my usual route through Dundee... After the week I'd had prior (track workouts, threshold swims, peak intervals on the bike) and the morning on the bike, I was moving pretty slowly! There's this house that I often run by off California street, and they have this huge German Shepherd fenced in their back yard. This dog barks like a frickin' hellhound, and on tired runs like this, it occurs to me all too uncomfortably that if Cujo were to jump that fence, he would dine on some stringy, free-range white boy. </li>
<li>4:00 PM: Work (Restaurant). I wait tables and tend bar at a Northern Italian restaurant in Dundee. The food is delicious, the money is good, the rhythm agrees with me, and I don't have to be there till 4PM. Say what you will about working at a restaurant, but I enjoy it and it works great with my schedule. </li>
<li>11:00 PM: Bed time! I think I may have had a little tequila and a taco or two for Cinco de Mayo... OK OK fine it was maybe like midnight and there were a few Coronas with lime as well...</li>
</ul>
<b><u>Friday, May 6th</u></b><br />
<i>166 lbs, 8.5 hrs sleep... Usually a lighter training day due to heavy work load. </i><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>8:00 AM: Wake up, breakfast, and a yoga class. I find yoga really helps my mobility and its basically the only sort of strength training I do. The body awareness and mindfulness are hugely beneficial for me as a triathlete (or anyone, for that matter)... And besides, the last time I was the only dude in a room full of this many babes was.... well... never mind... </li>
<li>10:00 AM-2 PM: Work (PT Clinic). I run the Wellness Program at an outpatient Physical Therapy clinic in West Omaha. This is a hugely rewarding experience for me and it solidifies my career path as a future PT. The environment and the people I work with here are so positive and even I know that is all too rare. </li>
<li>2:30 PM: Speed endurance swim... This is my least favorite pool workout, since the thoroughbred swimmer in me says "speed" and "endurance" are not used in the same sentence. The main set was 5x200s broken. The first one was my fastest, 10" rest at each 50. Added up it would've been a 1:47, which is irrelevant since I don't race a 200 and if I did I wouldn't get 10 seconds of rest at every 50... but that's neither here nor there... </li>
<li>4:15 PM-11 PM: Work (Restaurant) I was behind bar tonight, and as I recall it was neither particularly crazy nor was it boring for a Friday. </li>
<li>12:00 AM: Bed time! I knew I had a big day coming on Saturday so I got to sleep as quickly as I could. </li>
</ul>
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<b><u>Saturday, May 7th</u></b></div>
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<i>168 lbs, 8.5 hrs sleep... long ride day!</i></div>
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<ul>
<li>8:30 AM: Got up and went downtown for breakfast at Culprit Cafe, one of my favorite spots to be a basic white bro. Using proper hipster vernacular I got a <i>doppio con panna </i>and I even pronounced "croissant" as though pretending like I didn't grow up in the middle of cornfields and feedlots. I was in the water by...........</li>
<li>9:30 AM: Race simulation swim. I usually enjoy these workouts even though it goes against my nature as a swimmer to take it out faster than I finish. To give you an idea of this type of set, it starts out usually with some shorter, faster intervals, and then some longer, steadier swims. Today was 50s and 100s fast (around 26-27 for 50s and 55-57 for the 100s) and then a 100-200-300-200-100 steady state pyramid for which I held around 1:02-1:04 pace for the 100s. After a couple rounds of this I was already tired and hungry, but I was just getting started!</li>
<li>11:00 AM: On the bike for a long ride! Pretty much this whole day was a race simulation, so I went straight home and was pedaling within 20 minutes of getting out of the water. Now, I'll avoid getting overly technical here, but generally in a race the first 30 minutes on the bike are a dick-measuring contest, for various reasons other than chauvinistic over-compensation. Everybody is vying for position and trying to out-gun everyone else, so we tried to simulate that today with a 30min TT straight out of the gate. I averaged 320 watts for this portion, 331 normalized... For those of you who don't know, that's quite a lot... for those of you who do know, that's about ~4.25 w/kg, a bit below FTP. After this I had 30 mins easy, and then 4x20 minutes at sweet spot. I'd define this as roughly half-ironman pace, right around 300 watts for me today. The remainder of the ride was just aerobic endurance. 3250 kJ total energy output!</li>
<li>3:00 PM: Quick 20 minute transition run off the bike. The purpose of this was to make sure I'd fueled properly on the bike and to get my legs used to running when they are tired... Quite frankly, I am glad I do this all the time so my legs already knew what to do... I was pretty tired! I had time for little more than eating and showering before work. </li>
<li>4:00 PM-11:00 PM: Work (restaurant) This was a very busy night, but other than getting very hungry as the night wore on, I'd say I crushed it. Can you make a recommendation for a Northern-Italian wine that will pair with grilled octopus, spaghettini carbonara, and steak? Because I can. </li>
<li>12:30 AM: Bed time. I needed a beer or two after work, and it was a friend's birthday. Also very much in mind was the opportunity to sleep in tomorrow!</li>
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<b><u>Sunday, May 8th</u></b></div>
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<i>167 lbs, 9 hours sleep. Long run day. </i></div>
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<ul>
<li>10:00 AM: Wake up, breakfast of an egg sandwich and coffee. I drove to the Wabash-Trace trail over in Council Bluffs. </li>
<li>11:00 AM: 2hrs long run. This spring has been a bit of a roller coaster in my personal life, and I wanted some solitude today, which I why I chose the Wabash trail. Its an old railroad bed with crushed gravel, and there are plenty of fun little off-shoots that the local mountain bikers have made. I saw maybe a dozen other people in the whole two hours, and the canopy of trees really helped me quiet my mind. This is my church. I feel closer to God at mile 15 than anywhere else. I like to think He understands. The last 30 minutes were tempo, and as much as I'd love to say I crushed 5:30 pace, it was really about 6 flat, so right at 5 miles. After a brief cool down, I bought myself a protein shake and a slice of gas-station pizza and rolled home. </li>
<li>3:00 PM: Call mama! My biggest fan and the reason I am who I am. Love you, mama!</li>
<li>4:00 PM-10:00 PM: Work (restaurant) Behind the bar on Sunday nights has a much different rhythm. It's a lot of service industry people and regulars, so it almost feels like I'm just hosting a cocktail party for some friends. </li>
<li>12:00 AM: Bed time! I had to watch the new Game of Thrones and hang out with Champ for a bit to wind down after the weekend. Tomorrow its back to work at 9 AM though, so no Sunday Fun-Day for me.</li>
</ul>
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It is a busy life I lead, but I can't imagine doing things any differently. I love training and racing, and I still feel like I've got something to prove in this sport. The work I do gives me balance and pays the bills. What little social interaction I get is priceless to me, and I would never give that up. In other words, for the time being, this is a typical weekend for me. So next time you feel like telling me I'm crazy for riding 4 hours on a Saturday, at least act like I've heard it before! Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!</div>
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Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-63293537541354278392015-03-10T19:19:00.000-07:002015-03-10T19:19:19.485-07:00#TriathlonTuesday: Clermont Race RecapI raced the ITU Clermont CAMTRI Continental Cup last weekend in sunny Clermont, Florida. Luckily for me, it wasn't all that sunny and the weather was agreeable for a northman like myself...<br />
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For some reason (probably because I hadn't raced ITU for 8 months... and even then not that well) I was stuck seeded dead last... 57 of 57. That meant I got to pick out my starting spot on the beach last, which is almost always a big disadvantage at a race. Basically, I got the worst line available as a result. Also, the water was choppy and we swam in wetsuits...<br />
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Now, I am a huge fan of the show "Bar Rescue." Jon Taffer is the man, and as a long-time service-industry guy I love his insights. One of his sayings is "I don't embrace excuses... I embrace solutions..."<br />
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The fact that I had a bad line is an excuse. Wetsuits and choppy water are excuses. A solution would've been to B-Line it to the buoy and just be the swimmer that I am. It just wasn't in the cards today, so I wound up farther back than a 4th year pro should have.<br />
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The bike was decent, I found my way into a pack and we worked pretty well together. I tried to be vocal and get the guys moving, which worked. At one point, I'd finished yelling at a Mexican athlete in Spanish, yelling at a French athlete in broken French, when a Canadian athlete was up. For some reason I continued yelling in French (I assumed he was French-Canadian, I guess?) to which I got a blank stare and a "Dude, seriously??"<br />
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We got off the bike all bunched up, and it felt good to show off the legs a bit and dust up some of the younger kids... I haven't done a ton of speed work this year, so I felt super-strong but not very snappy... I ran decent, but it <i>felt</i> like I ran a lot faster. That will come though with some sharpening up!<br />
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This race was mostly over-shadowed by some glaring negatives. A bad swim, atrocious transitions, and rusty bike handling are all some things I need to dial in before next weekend. That's right, I race again in 5 short days at the ITU Sarasota Continental Championships on Saturday! Hopefully a week of training with the boys will get me sharpened up!<br />
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Until then, wish me luck and FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-22855055230720206332015-03-03T14:25:00.002-08:002015-03-03T14:25:54.487-08:002015 SeasonWell, here I am, 3 months later, staring down the barrel of what could be my last season racing elite for a while. If you haven't heard, I was recently accepted into the Doctor of Physical Therapy program at Marymount University. This is both very exciting and very terrifying for me... hopefully they have a station that plays country music in DC...<div>
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Anyway, in the mean time I wanna throw down at some races!! I kick the season off this weekend in Florida at the Clermont CAMTRI Continental cup, and continue the following weekend in Sarasota. I am really looking forward to hanging out with the boys and seeing what my winter training has been worth this year. </div>
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After that, the plan is still to continue more along the non-draft path. These are easier to get to, and lets face it, I'm just better at them. It looks like my season will probably be cut short as I start classes in August. I'd like to continue racing, however on a smaller level, all through school... but we will have to find out how realistic that is I guess. </div>
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In the mean-time, I'd like to do something a little different with my blog. Since I'm not really trying to look for sponsors or necessarily please anyone, I want to give people a more candid glimpse into my life. I realize not all professional triathletes are the same, but I hope those who are reading will be able to relate, and I hope my readers who aren't elite triathletes will be able to understand us more. Anyway, look for more of that to come in the coming months. My plan is to write more regular, shorter posts... let's see how long I can keep it up!</div>
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In the mean time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!! That's gonna be Dr. Rabbit to you someday... </div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-50128323569089374312014-11-13T19:35:00.005-08:002014-11-13T19:36:23.517-08:00Top-12 Moments of the 2014 Season Well, the 2014 season happened in spite of several big life changes and a few important decisions. I had a lot fun, I learned a little, and I spent way too much money... kinda like college! I broke into the top-5 a few times, I changed jobs a few times, and I cried myself to sleep a few times.<br />
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I could write a really long-winded post about everything that happened, but <i>I </i>wouldn't even want to read that. In lieu of boring you all to tears, I'm going to steal a page out of my boy John's blog and do a top-12 list for the 2014 season. John is a solid writer and an even better triathlete, even though he went to CSU. So, after you're done reading this go check out his blog! John, its OK if you look...<br />
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Anyway, here are my top-12 moments from the 2014 season in somewhat-chronological order. I hope you enjoy reading about them half as much as I enjoyed being in them.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>Key West training camp; </b>Everything from motorpacing off of Zane on a moped to swimming 6000+ a day to partying with the coaches after camp was awesome! I can't wait to do it again.</li>
<li><b>Chasing KOMs with Team Daugherty in Florida; </b>When my rental mid-sized car reservation was lost - and exchanged for an F-150 - I knew this was gonna be a great week. I didn't race all that well, but I had a ton of fun with the boys and I am eternally grateful to the Daugherty family for hosting us all! </li>
<li><b>YOU BOYS LIKE MEXICOOO???!!!; </b>Yes, we do. I can unofficially say that driving a shitty rental van across the Baja peninsula with a bunch of gringos is not even the sketchiest thing I've done in Mexico. A tiny hotel room, some super hot racing, the Mexican fans, a jaw-dropping villa in Cabo and getting twerked on in the biggest club I've ever seen are a few things I will always remember.</li>
<li><b>Omaha Duathlon; </b>Actually it turned into a muddy, rainy, and very expensive 5k. Sometimes, you've gotta show up to the local race and show the townies what's up. I got soaked, covered in mud, and I only won a bottle opener, but getting brunch with Mom and Rachel afterwards made it all worth it. </li>
<li><b>CapTex; </b>It was at this race that I realized my own relevancy in triathlon. It was my highest finish ever, and it was just the motivation I needed early in the season! To top it off, I got cheered on by some fellow Moxies in jorts and mullets. </li>
<li><b>Will Huffman's Dallas After-Party; </b>North America Vs. South America flip-cup, teaching Dominican's how to swing dance, and dirty dancing with.... well... nevermind... Awesome time!</li>
<li><b>Tempo Runs in Memorial Park with TNT; </b>Throwing down with Ben and the other guys from Team Nebraska Triathlon in the July heat taught me how to run tough and set me up for some great PRs.</li>
<li><b>The Break; </b>Yes, it was ugly. Yes, I did more drinking than I should have during this time, but I found an edge that I'd lost and I re-learned how to stand on my own two feet. </li>
<li><b>Kicking Down 5th Place in Kansas; </b>At the time I was running I thought I was running into the money. Only after I'd finished did I find out that they'd cut the prize purse to 3-deep. I'm glad I didn't know while I was hunting down that poor kid, though. The run was my shiny new weapon and I showed it off. </li>
<li><b>Going all-in in Bentonville; </b>This was an awesome race all around. I led through the whole first round, and the second swim and second bike. I'd felt second place stalking me the whole time, so I fixed bayonets and hit it as hard as I could on the second loop, but it wasn't enough. Still, I was happy with second place and a big check! </li>
<li><b>Surviving off my Starbucks Card in Oceanside; </b>It was a great few days in California to end the season. I raced tough in a tough field, enjoyed the beach, and partied with the tri-squad. Coming home from the airport though I had no money left in my checking account and I was starving. Reserving myself to a long, hungry drive home, I remembered my Starbucks Card with $20 on it! You bet your ass I enjoyed that mocha and that scone. </li>
<li><b>The Off-Season; </b>I've done some running races, slept in a lot, partied too much, and applied for PT school. If that goes well, this next season could be my last, so lets make it count! Here's to a great year in 2014 and to being excited for what 2015 has to offer! FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!</li>
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Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-87093416703417470962014-10-04T13:05:00.003-07:002014-10-04T13:05:45.351-07:00A Pile of StonesSorry its been a while, friends! We're gonna get deep today... I apologize in advance.<br />
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Beneath a tree near the top of a particularly large hill on California street in the Dundee neighborhood of Omaha, there is a pile of stones. Its nothing remarkable, about two feet in diameter and maybe a foot tall, and the stones are all about the size of a golf ball. It will more than likely be removed at some point by the property owner. Why am I writing about this pile of stones, you ask? Because I put it there, and each stone means something to me.<br />
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I got the idea from one of those inspirational YouTube videos. Basically, in the video, you see this guy get up one morning, grab a small rock from his driveway, and start running. Finally, after the voice-over says a bunch of inspirational stuff about never giving up, the guy tosses the rock on this huge pile of similar rocks at the top of a hill. He looks out over the city, and it flashes back to his former self putting the first rock on the hill, and all the changes he's gone through since.<br />
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"That's a neat idea!" I thought. On my next run, a cold day this last spring, I grabbed a small stone from my apartment's parking lot, and took off. I went on my favorite-least-favorite hilly route, and put the rock under a tree, and that was how it all began. The other night I was tossing yet another rock on the pile, and I noticed how big it had gotten, almost without me realizing it. I couldn't help but feel proud of myself. I was building a mountain.<br />
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There's rocks in there that are probably still cold from some of our late spring snowstorms. There are rocks that probably still have some of my sweat on them from some of our scorchers this summer. There's rocks that smell more like Coors Light than sweat from those Sunday mornings after nights out with the boys. There's rocks put there when I should've been at work, or hanging out with my girlfriend, or applying for grad school, or doing anything but running but I just couldn't do anything else but run. Yes, there's all sorts of my blood, sweat, and tears from hard times and heartbreaks that hold that pile of rocks together like mortar.<br />
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How much have I changed since that first day this spring? Well, I've PR'ed in my 10k off the bike, for one. I'm swimming and riding better all across the board than I have since, well, ever. On a deeper level, I've grown so much stronger, and grittier, and hungrier. I'm sure I've grown up a ton, given all the life changes I've had since then. The funny thing about consistency is it breeds more consistency. Suddenly, your consistent effort is your habit, a part of who you are.<br />
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People always want quick results and quicker answers, but that's not how all things work. How did I cut a minute off my 10k off the bike? By running almost every damn day. Rain, shine, tidal wave, hangover, whatever, I ran.<br />
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I've seen so much frustration with my clients at the gym. They don't get quick results, and so they give up. On the other hand, I've seen too many people disappoint themselves by comparing themselves to others who have been doing it way longer than they have. You just can't carry all those stones up that hill on California street at once, trust me, its too steep.<br />
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I'm not done building my pile of stones. Maybe it'll be a mountain someday, or maybe it'll get scooped up by some annoyed property owner. All I can do is keep building it, one rock at a time.<br />
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So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, be patient. The next time you are wondering why you haven't seen success in whatever you do, ask yourself, have you given it a consistent effort? How big is your pile of stones?<br />
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Hope this helps, y'all! FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!<br />
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<br />Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-83005588532541827132014-07-18T10:17:00.002-07:002014-07-18T10:17:47.508-07:00To Draft or Not to Draft?What's up guys? Its been a busy season and an interesting past month for me. A couple races and a couple big life changes later, and I've decided to focus on non-draft racing for a while.<br />
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This does mean setting aside the Olympic dream. However, I don't know how realistic that ever was for me, which is why I never really marketed it like <i>some </i>people we all know (YOU know who you are!) And, with non-draft triathlon being such an amateur-focused sport, there are ever fewer opportunities to make a living in it. However, I don't have to travel as much to chase points, and I get to ride my bike a lot more!<br />
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I've always compared draft-legal racing to a bar fight: You will probably get punched in the balls and get a bottle smashed over your head, you might throw up at some point, and you'll wake up the next morning feeling like hell. The guy who wins is usually the guy who knows the exact right moment to throw a punch and is a really fast runner.<br />
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Non-draft racing, however, is much more like Civil-war style warfare. We will line up in neat lines, exchange southern-gentlemenly pleasantries, and take turns shooting at each other until one side runs away or drives a bayonet into your spleen. No touching of the hair or face. The guy who wins is either from south of the Mason-Dixon line or has the most expensive equipment.<br />
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I like that draft-legal racing is less of a gamble, and focuses better on my strengths. Also, I'm not a confederate, I'm not racist, I'm not even a Republican (ha!) but I do consider Robert E. Lee to be one of my heroes. One of the best battle tacticians ever, and his men would've followed him into the gates of Hell.<br />
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I've even had the results to back it up. In Austin over Memorial Day, I raced CapTex and came in 6th. All of the work and none of the prize-purse. A week later I raced the PATCO Championships in Dallas, which was draft-legal. There, I found that, like most American elite males, I'm not that well-suited for draft-legal racing on an international scale. And, like most American elite males, I have a huge junior-high crush on Taylor Spivey... After this I decided to take my talents to South Beach like Lebron James and chase either a championship or the money or whatever and focus on non-draft.<br />
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Since then, I've raced a couple local races to throw down a tomahawk style dunk and let the local boys know whats up, and I raced Minneapolis last weekend. I did not execute on the swim, but the rest of the race was decent. I wound up a disappointing 11th. This weekend I will race the Kansas 5150, which was not on my schedule until about Monday, but hey, life happens and sometimes you wanna race instead of going to a wedding! I'll let y'all know how it goes! Until then, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!! But you better be 5 bike lengths behind and staggered or that's drafting, which is like a 2 minute penalty...Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-72279385966169097222014-06-15T12:47:00.000-07:002014-06-15T12:47:17.534-07:00Top-10 Things I've Learned From My DadWhat's up guys? Well, today is Father's Day, and I wanted to give a huge shoutout to my Dad. Dad is one of the funniest, gentlest, and hardest working people I know. He is the one person I always look to for an example, and he has guided me my whole life. As such, I thought I'd share some of my favorite bits of wisdom from him that we could all learn from. As you can imagine, not all of it has completely stuck with me yet, but here we go in no particular order.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>If you're going to be particular about how something gets done, do it yourself. </b>This applies to everything from hiring a landscaper to dining out to asking your significant other to help with chores. Simply put, either do it yourself or don't micro-manage!</li>
<li><b>Know how to drive a stick-shift and operate some power tools. </b>You're an adult. Odds are, there's going to come a time when you'll need to know how to drive your drunk friend's truck home, or drive in a screw to fix that cabinet.</li>
<li><b>Be a Gentleman. </b>Or a lady, for that matter. Dress nicely, stand up when you meet someone, be on time, always say yes to a dance, even if its an ugly girl! (He literally said that verbatim before my first 6th grade dance at Kearney Catholic.)</li>
<li><b>Most of the time, its best to stick to beer. </b>You won't get a beer gut if you ride your bike enough, and you never hear about someone dying of alcohol poisoning after too many Budweisers... you might still puke though...</li>
<li><b>A hangover is not an excuse. </b>Pops will pound IPAs with me all night... until about 10:30 PM... at which point he pulls an Irish Goodbye and sneaks off to bed. Why? Because his mornings matter. </li>
<li><b>Don't take yourself too seriously, no one else does. </b> Dad used to joke with us kids in such a solid deadpan that we didn't know if he was kidding or not. When asked, "DAD!! Are you serious??" He would calmly reply, "I'm as serious as a heart attack." </li>
<li><b>You don't stop running because you get old, you get old because you stop running. </b>At 60, my dad is "younger" than some of my clients half his age. Why? Because he gets up every day and moves his ass. </li>
<li><b>At the end of the day, you're going to do what she wants anyway. </b>My dad has set for us kids the best example of how to love, and I am eternally grateful for that. He knows that ultimately, its not up to him, but to Mom how the yard looks/where we are going to eat/what to wear/who to invite. He taught me to do the same thing with Rachel, and its worked out pretty well so far. </li>
<li><b>Take pride in what you do. </b>How can you expect someone else to pay you for your services, whatever they are, if you don't have some pride in them? I remember Dad coming home from work, and bragging about how nicely he'd put a crown on some poor bastard in his dental chair. The layperson wouldn't even know good work from bad probably, but Dad was pumped about it. For some reason, this always stuck with me, and I think that's how everyone should approach their workday. </li>
<li><b>I'd rather be out on my bike thinking about God than in church thinking about my bike. </b>Dad was quoted as saying this to the priest in Rolfe, Iowa, who one day asked about his spotty Mass attendance. I don't know if this is true or not, but Dad did teach me to love my bike. He taught me the best water I'll ever have will be 96 degrees, taste like plastic, and be in a corridor of corn on a July day in Nebraska, 40 miles from home, with saddle sores, numb hands, and fire in my legs. </li>
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Colorado's mountains are beautiful. The ocean in Mexico is awesome. But, my favorite bike rides will always be through that pancake-flat corn field they call Kearney with Dad. Hope y'all enjoyed this as much as I did! Happy Father's Day, pops! FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!</div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-51765222937990828002014-04-30T11:44:00.000-07:002014-04-30T11:44:55.734-07:00#TriathlonTuesday: Cat-CallingWhat's up guys? Well, given that its a Tuesday and I was struck by inspiration, here I am! Today I want to talk about cat-calling. Now, for those of you who don't know, by "Cat-Calling," I mean any random yelling at a passerby.<br />
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Generally this is done by a <i>yeller</i> (who may or may not be physically attracted to a <i>yellee)</i> as the yeller passes the <i>yellee. </i>It is my personal belief that the yeller feels some sort of anonymity, since the yelling is often done from a car or at the very least from a significant distance. I'd even go further to say that most yellers, when face to face with a yellee, would remain mysteriously silent. That's right, whatever the yeller had to say is not so important that he/she would say it "in person." In other words, most yellers are just casual people who are struck by the need to yell, and not necessarily knowledge-filled gurus.<br />
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This is a practice I have never fully understood in any form, although I've rarely had to worry about it since I'm generally not on the receiving end.<br />
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Now for some reason as a triathlete I have encountered this problem a lot more frequently. That's right, I get yelled at. On the pool deck, on the bike, or while running, people seem to think its ok to yell at me. Sure, I understand speedos, cycling kits, and split shorts are not your typical attire, and a <i>yeller</i> might feel the need to make me a <i>yellee</i> and inform me that he/she thinks I look weird. The fact is, I'm just doing my job... leave me the F@*# alone!<br />
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Ok, ok, sure. I hear your argument; "Sam, you're running shirtless along a busy street, and you happen to have about 6% body fat." I realize that this makes a lot of people uncomfortable. Let me address these "offenses" one at a time.<br />
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Sure, I'm pretty lean. As it happens, I train my ass off (literally) to be the the best athlete I can be. I don't do this for looks, although its a nice bonus... just ask Rachel! The fact is I wasn't always this way. Buried deeply in me is the fat middle schooler who got bullied, and I still have to remind myself sometimes that I am not him anymore. So, I'm sorry if my tall, thin frame bothers your insecurities, but I'm still working on my own, so please don't yell at me.<br />
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Second of all, I live near Midtown Omaha. All the streets within a 10 mile radius are reasonably well-trafficked, and I'm not going to drive in my car 20 minutes just so I can run on a quiet road by myself and thus not offend your fear of skinny shirtless white guys. Its not like I'm running on Dodge street here... Besides, none of you people said anything all winter when I was stomping up this neighborhood in 3 layers, so just continue to leave me alone now as the weather warms up!<br />
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Finally, I could leave my shirt on to make you feel better about your beer gut. I could swim in trunks to not offend your pasty praying-mantis legs. But what is this, Saudi Arabia? No! And quite frankly, I don't care how it makes you feel when you see me training. I'm not any more worried about you than you should be worried about me, I'm focused on what I'm doing. Speedos allow me to swim faster! Split shorts allow me to run faster! And the no-shirt, well, its hot out and I don't want tan lines... there ya go, a little vanity on my part...<br />
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Since I generally can't understand what you say while blowing past me in your Dodge Ram with dual rear tires, mud flaps, and 6 inch muffler tips (all of which you totally need in downtown Omaha), and since you never stop to allow me to respond, here are my canned responses to your cat-calls. Please read and pass along to other yellers.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>"Nice body/You're hot/I want you in some form": </b>Since most yellers are either dudes or underage girls, I'm flattered but I'm REALLY not interested. Plus, I like my girlfriend a lot.</li>
<li><b>"Nice shorts/tights/speedo" : </b>This is pretty much my work uniform. Do you want me to come into your place of work and make fun of your ugly-ass polo shirt with the Applebee's logo on the chest?? No. Good job on the employment though, I hear they have great benefits... #RubyTuesday4Life</li>
<li><b>"Get off the road!": </b>Actually, its illegal to ride your bike on the <i>sidewalk</i> in most metropolitan areas. Just think of me as a smaller piece of farm equipment. I'm much easier to pass!</li>
<li><b>"Insert derogatory phrase": </b>GET BACK HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE YOU SORRY-@$$-CHICKEN-$#!+-MOTHER#@*&#%!!!!!! </li>
</ol>
...Sorry about that. Generally speaking, if you yell at me from your car window halfway through my threshold hill rep, you will be met with hostility on my part. That is because your fellow motorists and yellers have conditioned me to believe your yelling at me is an act of hostility. If you are a friend, maybe just wave... let's be honest I'm not going to know who you are anyway...<br />
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The only form of cat-calling I will acknowledge as dignified is clanging a cowbell out your window as you pass. Other than that, please refrain. I'm not asking you to go out of your way for me, in fact I'm asking you to <i>not </i>go out of your way to yell at me! By all means, follow the pace rabbit, just don't yell at him! <br />
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<br />Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-8651637649487238912014-04-07T07:00:00.001-07:002014-04-07T07:00:22.006-07:00March RacingWell, March happened before I even knew what hit me. I raced 4 times (5 if you count the Super Sprint Relay) travelled all over the deep south, experienced spring break in Mexico, turned 26, got my own health insurance (Thanks a lot, Obama...) and definitely didn't do anything very productive!<br />
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Rather than bore you all with race reports on every race, I will provide you with the bullet points of the races, and next I'll give you a list of the Top-10 best things I ate in the month of March. For your reading pleasure;<br />
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<ul>
<li>March 1st was my season opener in Clermont, Florida. It was a draft-legal, Pan-Am Cup sprint race.</li>
<ul>
<li>The field was pretty stout, and this race is always a bit of a shit-show (pardon my language) </li>
<li>I had a decent showing, finishing better than last year in 29th. The important thing here is that I am clearly learning how to put together complete races.</li>
<li>There were a few glaring mistakes (slow swim, over-biked), and a few strong points (good positioning, fast transitions)</li>
</ul>
<li>The whole next week I spent in Florida training. I've realized that I need to invest in some good training partners. Riding, running, and swimming with Brian MacArthur (B-Mac) Brandon Nied (Beenie) Alex Libin (The Russian Princess) Eric Lagerstrom (Nordic Thunder) and John O'neill (The Baby Giraffe) was a pleasure... Sorry boys, you don't get to pick your nicknames when I'm writing!</li>
<li>Until the boys and I can all get a sweet house together in North Carolina or something, I will be taking applications for Omaha training partners!</li>
<li>Shout-Out to our wonderful home-stay family, the Daughertys. A beautiful home, a well-stocked fridge, and a couple awesome dogs and you've got 5 happy triathletes! Thank you so much for everything! #TeamDaugherty </li>
<li>March 8th was the Pan-Am cup sprint in Sarasota. </li>
<ul>
<li>I'd gone down on the bike the day before the race, and I think that affected my mindset more than it should have.</li>
<li>Swim started out strong, but I got dunked by a large, smelly French dude. Again, this affected me much more than it should have.</li>
<li>I wound up 32nd. Now, bear in mind this was basically a World-Cup level start list, and being that I am a swimmer, if I have a bad swim it doesn't bode well for my race. I did have a strong run though. Back to the drawing board!</li>
</ul>
<li>March 22nd was the Pan-Am Cup in La Paz, Mexico. I hadn't planned on doing this, but the boys talked me into it. </li>
<li>I found myself renting a car and driving across the Baja Peninsula... which is not even the sketchiest thing I've ever done before. </li>
<li>The race was blisteringly hot, and I was not prepared for that. Nor do I feel was I prepared for an Olympic triathlon in general.</li>
<ul>
<li>I was in the lead group out of the water, but in a Mexican bike pack, being the only gringo means you'll be attacked repeatedly until the rest of the field catches you. </li>
<li>In Mexico, the bike packs only go fast after the big gringo goes down... Remember kids, HOLD YOUR LINES ON YOUR CORNERS! </li>
<li>I melted on the run. 19th place. Ugly.</li>
</ul>
<li>Cabo San Lucas on spring break is exactly what you'd expect it to be like. </li>
<li>The next week was the New Orleans 5150. I drove down with Rachel, Erin Dolan, and her mom.</li>
<li>16 hours is a long time to spend in a car</li>
<li>New Orleans is a lot like the third world; Tragic poverty stands next to extravagant luxury, all with the back-drop of idyllic beauty... And the roads are shit...</li>
<li>The race was pretty ugly over all, but I had a solid result in spite of that. Lets be honest, the field was as soft as the Huskers defense.</li>
<ul>
<li>The swim was the choppiest I've ever experienced. Seriously, worse than the Pacific. The group all stayed together.</li>
<li>The bike was windy, and a 40k TT takes a lot different kind of fitness than a draft-legal bike leg.</li>
<li>If you feel like you ran a 34, you probably ran a 36. 9th place is only disappointing when you could've been first.</li>
</ul>
<li>The French Quarter is one of the few things in life that is not hyped up enough. Everybody says its crazy... Nobody tells you its random-guy-passed-out-in-a-gutter-of-a-strip-club-while-people-make-out-in-the-street-at-8-o'clock-on-a-typical-Saturday-crazy. Vegas has nothing on New Orleans.</li>
</ul>
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This crazy month of March racing would not have been possible without the help of a few certain people. HUGE thanks to;</div>
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The Daugherty Family</div>
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The Boys (as listed above... remember, what happens in Cabo, stays in Cabo)</div>
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My wonderful parents</div>
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Tom and Mikki Tye</div>
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Leo V. and Prairie Life Fitness</div>
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Moxie Multisport</div>
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Coach Zane</div>
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As always, my loving, patient, and beautiful girlfriend, Rachel.</div>
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Well, that sums it up for ya! Now that I'm 26 and a mature adult, I'm going to be timely in getting my next blog post out... but I'll still laugh when I fart... Anyway, look for the March Food Blog later today. Until then FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!</div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-71566419731173980462014-03-03T18:41:00.001-08:002014-03-03T18:41:20.110-08:00FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT... OR ELSE!!! Sometimes, the Rabbit becomes the Wolf if you put him in the right race....<br />
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That's right folks, just follow the pace rabbit... OR WE WILL FIND YOU!!!</div>
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Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-71437573178688439642014-02-22T10:28:00.000-08:002014-02-22T10:28:07.647-08:00#FBF: TriathlEATingYou know those internet memes showing the old-fashioned lady eating a cookie saying something like, "There is a skinny girl inside me, trying to get out, but I can usually shut her up with cookies.."? Well, <i>my </i>internet meme would say, "There is a fat kid inside me, trying to get out, but I can always shut him up with 3 hour bike rides and 18 mile runs."<br />
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If you can relate to this, then you are a triathlEATer. I like to think I coined this term myself, but really anybody could combine the words "athlete" and "eat," so I probably wasn't the first. On that note, this phenomenon is not exclusive to triathletes. Any athlete who has a large workload (except wrestlers... or as I call them, "anorextlers") and needs to eat a lot can probably feel my pain here.<br />
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The bottom line is, I train a lot, so I have to eat A LOT! Believe it or not, this is not as cool as it sounds. In fact, it can be annoying sometimes. The following is a list of signs that you have experienced "triathleating." Again, keep in mind this is exclusive to athletes with a heavy training load; if you just eat a lot and don't work out (I'll try not to call you "gentiles") you have clearly let the fat kid out of his cage.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>You have experienced great dismay at the portion sizes in a restaurant. </b>There really is nothing worse than that realization of, "ugh... this is just not enough food..." While most people complain about huge portions, you are already finished and your stomach is still rumbling... but never fear...there is peanut butter, jelly, and bread at home!</li>
<li><b>You get irrationally angry with picky eaters. </b>ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? YOU THREW AWAY HALF YOUR SALAD! The simple fact that people actually have a choice in what they eat sparks rage and jealousy. We should all be so lucky... some of us just have to eat, regardless of the taste.</li>
<li><b>You get <u>two</u> mints at drive throughs... when ordering for yourself... </b>Places like Sonic and Amigos always give you an extra mint. Because there is no way all that food is for only one person... right?</li>
<li><b>You've gotten to the last bite of something before realizing it doesn't taste all that good. </b>At this point, there is a moment of self-loathing... before you get over it and make another snack. </li>
<li><b>When cooking for friends, you forget that they didn't ride 65 miles that morning. </b>This goes back to different portion sizing by non-triathleats (again, I didn't want to use the word "gentiles" here). Sorry I poured a half a pound of pasta on your plate... and two chicken breasts...</li>
<li><b>Going to the grocery store requires eating beforehand. </b>You already spend half your paycheck on groceries as it is. Let's make sure we go with a full tummy so we don't get 3 different varieties of Oreos... and beef jerky... cuz its Paleo, right?</li>
<li><b>There is a post-workout-pre-meal snack. </b>Meal preparation takes energy, and energy takes food. Yes, I will eat a turkey sandwich... so that I have enough energy to make another turkey sandwich. </li>
<li><b>You go by the Hobbit eating schedule. </b>Before and after every workout there is a meal, along with all the other meals in the day. We're gonna have to make time for second breakfast, eleventies, lunch, afternoon tea, dinner, and supper. </li>
<li><b>"Hungry" is a relative term. </b>It is a constant state. If someone asks, "Are you hungry?" The answer is always "yes," but there are varying degrees of "yes." There is I-Just-Ate hungry, I'm-about-to-go-workout hungry, I-just-finished-a-workout hungry, I'm STARVING, I-will-literally-eat-a-baby hungry, and Hangry. </li>
<li><b>You get irrationally angry when people call you "lucky." </b>Yes, there is a lot of irrational anger in triathleating that gentiles (I mean, non-triathletes... sorry) do not understand. Probably due to low blood-sugar (see #9). Sure, I'm lucky to be living my dream, but I am NOT lucky to be able to eat so much! If you'd done what I've done today, you could eat a bacon cheeseburger with Krispy Kremes as a bun too (not that I've done that...) Trust me, you don't want to do what I have to do in order to be able to eat so much. </li>
</ol>
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All in all, we just eat more, because we do more. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go make a snack. Until next time FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!! </div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-78659523266664923492014-01-06T19:34:00.001-08:002014-01-06T19:34:47.229-08:00Bandwagon FansLately, with all the Bowl games, and the NFL playoffs, my social media feeds have been blowing up with people accusing one side or the other of being "Bandwagon Fans" or "Fairweather Fans." ...does that need a hyphen? I don't care... Anyway, this usually follows a loss by the poster's favorite team (any Chief's fan in my "Friends" list) or a win by a team the poster evidently dislikes (Jeff? Saints? WHO DAT??)<br />
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My question is, what is a bandwagon fan, or a fairweather fan? Now, being from Nebraska, I understand fairweather fans well enough. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, come look at my Facebook news feed after a Husker win vs. a Husker loss...) And I tend to share most posters' disdain for fairweather fans. You can't cheer for your team one weekend and bash them the next.<br />
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However, I agree with a certain amount of fairweathering/bandwagoning. For instance, if you've got a local hockey team, that perennially sucks, you probably don't go to a lot of games if you're the average joe, or my friend Hogan, right? But, say they all of a sudden put together a 20 game winning streak and make the playoffs. You're probably going to buy a ticket and a couple 9 dollar beers and watch some hockey with the mullets and the flannel.<br />
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Does this make you a fairweather fan? Or a bandwagon fan? Or just a good old fashioned sports fan and local supporter? I'm in Florida right now, so do I have to cheer for Florida State in the National Championship, or on the contrary would that make me a bandwagon fan?<br />
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Personally, I think it doesn't matter. We should cheer for teams that do well (Unless they're the Dallas Cowboys or CU football... but that'll probably never happen anyway) and we certainly don't have to cheer for teams that do badly (unless its the Huskers and you're a Nebraskan.)<br />
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Besides, we're all a bit of a bandwagon/fairweather fan for some sports... That's right, I'm talkin' about the Olympics. Oh, you're cheering for USA downhill skiing now? When was the last time you supported them? Oh, 4 years ago... FAIRWEATHER! Cheering for Estonian biathlon, just because its cool to watch skinny dudes shoot guns and ski, and they happen to be doing well? BANDWAGON!<br />
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My point here, (if I actually do have one) is that all this accusing is pointless and it really doesn't matter. If you get that worked up about it, you probably need to find a hobby. Try playing sports instead of watching them. And, above all else, JUMP ON THE PACERABBIT BANDWAGON!!! But not just for fairweather...Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-81599394382795440562014-01-05T18:00:00.000-08:002014-01-05T18:00:02.282-08:00#FBF: New Year's ResolutionsWhat's up guys?? It's been way too long, the holidays were a bit crazy. To be honest, I don't really want to talk about food today since its been so long. I feel like I need to update everybody! However, because its Friday, I will talk about food a little bit.<br />
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To begin, I am currently in Key West, Florida for my winter training camp. I have had a great system of support to get me here, and I am very grateful. I want to set this next season off right, and this is the place to do it. I've got some big plans for the year and I know what I need to work on... I'd share all my resolutions with you, but why give away my secrets??<br />
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New Year's Resolutions are a tricky thing. How many of you can honestly say you kept all of yours from last year? Or any of yours, ever, for that matter? Well, a lot of them concern fitness/food/diet, so there is my tie-in and here is your Food Blog Friday!<br />
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...See what I did there? That's how I write what I want to write!<br />
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Given that I am a foodie, and a triathlete and a personal trainer, I have some legit expertise with this topic. As such, here are a few guidelines to help you with your New Year's Resolutions.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>Set Process-Oriented Goals: </b>Rather than saying, "I want to lose X number of pounds," you should say, "I want to exercise and eat better." That way, the only way you can "fail" is if you quit exercising and eating right. Its better to focus on the process rather than the outcome, because outcomes can change. </li>
<li><b>Goals Should be Measurable and Specific: </b>Don't make vague goals (much like the ones I posted above!) but rather make goals that you will know for a fact whether or not you are meeting. Rather than saying "I will exercise more," say "I will exercise X number of times a week for X number of minutes." </li>
<li><b>Change Your Scorecard: </b>This is a big one for me. Sometimes we get so caught up in the general idea of things that we miss the main point. Rather than looking to exercise for 20 minutes, why not set certain exercises that you want to get done no matter what. If it only takes 15 minutes, then that is a win! 15 good minutes is astronomically better than 20 minutes of milling around aimlessly.</li>
<li><b>Be Gritty: </b>I've said it before. Someday, there will come a day that you do not want to do whatever it is that you have to do. THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT DAY TO DO IT!!! Once you've done it on the shitty days, you've set a great precedent for yourself. You'll know how easy it is once you start. </li>
<li><b>Be Lenient... Especially with food!: </b>Food and diets are particularly tricky. It is important to have a good relationship with your food, and not make things too taboo. You ever seen <i>Dodgeball</i>? Remember the part when Ben Stiller's character shocks his own nipples while eating a donut? That's not what we want. If you want to quit eating meat, but your best friend is having a bacon cookoff, first of all invite me and second of all have a slice... just don't let your <i>occasional </i>become <i>regular. </i></li>
<li><b>FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!: </b>'Nuff said. </li>
</ol>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-52752122353191568182013-12-05T21:57:00.002-08:002013-12-05T22:01:47.169-08:00#TriathlonThursday: True GritWhat's up friends? Hope everyone's post-Thanksgiving diets are going well. Mine recovered nicely in time for a couple holiday parties this weekend.... Dammit....<br />
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Today I want to talk about grit. What is grit, you ask? Well, not only was it a movie (I personally prefer the John Wayne original version... Don't get me wrong, I love Jeff Bridges, but if you're going up against The Duke, you're gonna lose) but it is also a quality to look for in anyone who wants to be successful at anything.<br />
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The point is, no matter what you do, there is going to come a day when you don't want to do whatever it is you do, for whatever reason. That's when grit comes in.<br />
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Grit, in a word, is toughness, resiliency, and will power. It is a willingness to suffer. It is what gets you out of bed in the morning before the sun, and what gets you to the pool, even though its 19 degrees outside. When the wind grows teeth, your grit grows claws and makes you take that first step of your run. And when the sun packs a punch, your grit hits back and gets you home. As a triathlete, grit does many things, but in a nutshell it makes us train hungover, hungry, stressed, tired, before work, after work, before sunrise, after sunset, etc. A talentless, injury-prone athlete can get far on grit alone.<br />
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I've recently re-read a book called <i>The Little Book of Talent </i>by Daniel Coyle, and in it Coyle explores what makes "talent" as we know it. He breaks the book into 52 tips that will help us all create our own "talent." Essentially, Coyle discovers that "talent" has little to do with birth, but it has much more to do with things like attention to detail, and perhaps most importantly, GRIT!<br />
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One of my favorite tips from <i>The Little Book of Talent </i>was "Cultivate your Grit!" This chapter (each of which is about 3 pages long) talks about embracing the sucky days and learning how to thrive on them. In short, motivation is for amateurs. If you want to be any good at anything, you need grit, so start practicing it! (Seriously, go to Amazon and order this book. You can read it in an afternoon, and it has some great insights.)<br />
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This begs the question though: Is it more important as a triathlete to be gritty on race day, or on a training day? Does grit lift the tape in victory, or pick you up off the track to try another 800m repeat? If you ask me, it takes both. Racing is always going to be gritty, but how can you suddenly be Rooster Cogburn on the last 5k of your run if you haven't been in training for the past month? Just like anything else, grit takes practice.<br />
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Whatever it is that you're chasing, it won't always be easy. Its going to be hard sometimes. There will be days when you're tired, or hungry, or hungover, or want to do something else. One way or another, you won't want to do what you have to do. But, ultimately, that is why you <i>have</i> to do it, or someone else will.<br />
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So get out there, and be gritty, my friends! Don't stop writing just because you're not feeling "inspired." Don't half-ass at work because you're hungover. Don't ease up on the toughest part of your workout, but rather pin your ears back, bear your teeth and hit it harder than anything else that day. If you practice that, day in and day out, and when the time comes that you really need it, it will be there.<br />
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Oh, you're too tired to go to morning practice from staying up late on #TriathlonThursday to read Sam's new release? Well here's a straw so you can SUCK IT UP!! Until Food Blog Friday, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-34347915763514723542013-12-02T21:30:00.001-08:002013-12-02T21:31:56.702-08:00#FBF: After Turkey DayWell, most of us survived Thanksgiving, although our nutrition plans probably did not... Yes, Black Friday is not only a day for all of us to spend a bunch of money and get in fist fights with other moms over a Nintendo Wii U, but its also the day of regret for eating the caloric equivalent of a third trimester fetus. (<i>Did I just say that?)</i> However, a long weekend from work, time with friends and family and Rachel, and some seriously good food made it all worth while. I had a great weekend myself, and I hope you all did too.<br />
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Its OK to eat like crap every once in a while, as long as we don't do it all the time. Thanksgiving is one such occasion, in my opinion! Everything in moderation, including moderation!<br />
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Here are some Thanksgiving fun facts for y'all concerning our eating habits as a culture;<br />
1) The average American consumed around 7000 calories on Thanksgiving day. Only about half of this was from the dinner itself, the other half was from dessert, leftovers, and drinks the rest of the day.<br />
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2) Thanksgiving day is first on the calendar for caloric intake by Americans. Second place? Not Christmas, not Easter, but SuperBowl Sunday! Wings, beer, and nachos? Why not!<br />
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The important thing to remember is that now that Thanksgiving is over, we can all get back to eating like we normally do. Too often, people have the tendency to throw away their goals and eating plans after one day of bingeing. Just like I always tell my clients, one day of bad eating will not make you fat any more than one day of exercising will not make you skinny. Its what we do on a regular basis that defines who we are. So get back on that wagon!<br />
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OK, so you got back to the gym, and are feeling a little better about yourself. However, what are you gonna do with all those leftovers?? My personal opinion? Repurpose them, and eat 'em!<br />
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Here are my top-5 favorite Thanksgiving leftovers: (Note; not all are "healthy," so you might want to attend an extra hot-yoga class this week)<br />
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<b>#5: </b>Cranberry Sauce- <i>How to Repurpose it: </i>Brown an onion and some garlic in a sauce pan with some olive oil, throw in the cranberry sauce, and add a little salt and pepper. Now, you've got some delicious chutney, which is one of my favorite sweet and savory combos! Spread it on toast, meats, or a nice ham sandwich (<i>See #1)</i><br />
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<b>#4: </b>Butternut Squash- <i>How to Repurpose it: </i>Again, brown an onion and some garlic in olive oil, this time in a soup pot. Add the squash, and a can or two of chicken stock. Season with curry powder, salt and pepper, and finish with a touch of cream. Garnish with sunflower seeds and parsley and you've got some curried soup, son!<br />
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<b>#3: </b>Pumpkin Pie- <i>How to Repurpose it: </i>Don't bother. Don't even heat it up. Don't even get a plate, just eat that baby like a slice of pizza. You've earned it, that soup was healthy...<br />
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<b>#2: </b>Turkey- <i>How to Repurpose it: </i>Cook some veggies of your choice in a stock pot, add garlic and salt and pepper, add the turkey, and a bunch of stock. At this point, you can add rice, noodles, or dumplings, and you've got yourself another variety of healthy soup... Hey! Easy on the pumpkin pie!<br />
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<b>#1: </b>Ham- <i>How to Repurpose it: </i>There actually should be no leftover ham, because all of the leftovers should've been consumed in the following manner over several varieties of beer and wine on Thanksgiving night. Grab a roll, slice it open, maybe put a little cheese on it, and put on a couple chunks of ham. A lot of people like to get fancy here and go and add some mashed potatoes and gravy and stuffing, but I am a purist. Maybe its the fresh dinner roll, maybe its the big chunks of real ham as opposed to thin slices of hydrolyzed pork protein and MSG, but this is one of my all time favorite sandwiches... or maybe its the beer?<br />
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Well, I hope this helped with your post-Thanksgiving blues! Hey, at least it wasn't as stressful as Christmas will be! (three weeks, people!) But then again nobody got any presents either. Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-69326110106924319742013-11-22T19:47:00.000-08:002013-11-22T19:47:14.543-08:00#FBF: Changing TastesIts that time of the week again! I've been waiting all week for Food Blog Friday, y'all, and here we go!<br />
<br />
Today I wanna talk about changing tastes. Not just as a person, but as a culture. When I think back to my tastes as a 3rd grader, they are drastically different from how they are now. Is that because I had different taste buds than I do now, or because we all eat differently?<br />
<br />
Well, honestly, I say both! I read an article (now being that this is MY blog after all I don't have to cite <i>shit!</i> This isn't my freshman English class, this is THE PACE RABBIT! But, I swear, I did read an article about this topic at one point...) that basically says kids are picky eaters because their taste buds are still fully functional. Kids don't like healthy food because it actually <i>does</i> taste gross. As adults, our taste buds fade, and we come into this sort of "Emperor's New Clothes" thing where we just eat what everyone else says is good and agree that it <i>is</i> good.<br />
<br />
I firmly believe that this is the case with both goat cheese and chai tea. Goat cheese actually tastes like the inside of my 9th grade hockey pads, and chai tea actually tastes like one of those old lady stores in downtown Kearney... (Has anyone else noticed that they all sell the same thing?? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!!) Anyway, I think no one actually <i>likes</i> goat cheese or chai tea. We just pretend to like it so we feel cool. This is a dangerous place to be. We need to eat what we like, and not pretend to like something because it is "trendy."<br />
<br />
I remember as a kid, one of my favorite meals was called "Cowboy Food." We only got it when Mom was working nights (in other words, Dad didn't feel like cooking) and it was awesome! Basically, Dad would brown some hamburger meat, and put a can of beans in it... and that's it...<br />
<br />
Seriously, to a 9 year old kid, it didn't get much better than beans and meat. Now, I don't know what my favorite dish would be as a 25 year old, but the list would include Pad Thai, Beef Wellington, and a nice craft burger. Is this because my taste buds are dull now, and I like stronger flavors, or because craft burgers and Thai food are trendy? What drives me nuts is that I DON'T KNOW!! I like to think that I would like craft burgers even if they weren't all over every hipster bar in every town with a college in America, but I just can't say that for sure because I'm too late! That's tragically already the case.<br />
<br />
Food Network, celebrity chefs, and the craft beer industry could totally be behind all of this, but I can't be sure. Personally, I think its all thanks to the same people who claim that apples have an inedible "core" and who created TV shows like "Jersey Shore." Either way, don't follow the trends, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-75055164682166603142013-11-17T20:40:00.001-08:002013-11-17T20:40:42.066-08:00#FBF: Chili; Messin' With Texas!Yep, its Sunday. Not Friday. Thank you, Captain Obvious. No reason we can't have a Food Blog Friday though, right??<br />
<br />
Today I want to talk about chili. Yep, that good ol' fashioned, game day classic. Let me tell ya somethin' here folks, chili is not just an excuse for cornbread and cinnamon rolls! ... Although, I mean, if you brought some over for me, I'd gladly make you a pot of chili... just sayin...<br />
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I am somewhere between a chili purist and an innovator. I believe that chili requires three key ingredients: Red meat, tomatoes, and beans. Here are a few thoughts from the Great Sam Holmes on the other phyla of chili.<br />
<br />
<b>Green Chili:</b> Absolutely delicious. Nothing cures a hangover better, and I would literally smother anything with it and call it a meal. However, I moved away from Denver, so I'll stick to making the Red and leave the Green to the experts.<br />
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<b>White Chicken Chili:</b> You mean tortilla soup? If I wanted chicken, I'd order a bowl of freakin' chicken soup!! Plus, white beans taste like band-aids. Bring me some REAL chili!<br />
<br />
<b>Vegetarian Chili: </b>No thanks, bro. I actually didn't go to CU Boulder. You can keep your vegetable soup. #Hippies #SMH<br />
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<b>Texas Chili: </b>Wait, you just shredded some meat in tomato sauce and called it soup?? Pour this over some spaghetti maybe... where's the beans? You Texans have to eat your vegetables at some point, I'm sorry.<br />
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That's right, folks. I am a proponent of the midwestern chili, including meat, tomatoes, and beans. After that, its all improvisation!<br />
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Last Friday (when I was supposed to be blogging) I had a chili cook off at work. Well, I won... Here was the winning recipe!<br />
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*Note: Any measurements I may decide to put in here are total guesses. I made this chili at midnight Thursday night, and um.. well I'd had a few. In other words, I couldn't find my measuring cups! Either way, look at this as a guideline to inspire your own creation.<br />
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<br />
<ol>
<li>4 strips bacon, cook in large pot and set aside.</li>
<li>Large beef roast (I used a two-pounder and it probably served about 10 people, or 5 triathletes) Rub with your choice of spices and sear on all sides and set aside. </li>
<li>1 Large onion. Chop it and cook in the drippings on the pot.</li>
<li>Add a green bell pepper, and a couple other medium to high heat chilis. I used pasillo and anaheim. Again, chopped and cooked with the onions.</li>
<li>Deglaze the pan with a shot of bourbon. Mix it around and cook the alcohol out, and add a whole dark beer. This just keeps getting better and better!</li>
<li>Add a large can of diced tomatoes and a large can of black beans.</li>
<li>Add a couple ears worth of roasted corn. </li>
<li>Put the roast and the now-crushed-bacon back in and bring to a boil. Simmer for like 4 hours, or until you can shred the beef!</li>
<li>Serve hot, with some cotija cheese and tortilla chips!</li>
</ol>
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Like I said, don't follow recipes, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!</div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-17888951849219775342013-11-14T12:44:00.000-08:002013-11-14T12:55:03.776-08:00#TriathlonThursday: Chasing Dad's ShadowI know, I know, its not Triathlon Tuesday... Given that there are two days in the week that start with "T," I am able to procrastinate even more sometimes. Yay for me! Don't worry though I'll still get your Food Blog Friday up by tomorrow.<br />
<br />
Today I wanna talk about my Dad. Now I got into swimming because of my sister, but I would say the rest of the road to triathlon was definitely paved by Dad. He'd always been a runner, a cyclist, and a dentist, so for me it ultimately became not a choice of <i>whether </i>to follow in my dad's footsteps, but rather of <i>how </i>to follow in them.<br />
<br />
It's not Father's Day, or his birthday, and no, he's not sick... Honestly I don't know what caused me to write this, but I'm gonna go with it!<br />
<br />
I remember a summer in Estes Park when I was probably in middle school, and Dad and I went on a mountain bike ride. I can't say I recall much of the actual ride, but I do remember the ride home. We had to pedal our way back to the hotel for whatever reason, and it was farther than we'd anticipated. Dad just kept saying "Just one more hill, Sam!" To this day I'm not sure if the old man knew he was lying to me, or if he was as lost as I was! After several "One More Hills" we made it.<br />
<br />
It probably wasn't all that long of a ride, but to a sullen 7th grader who'd rather be on <i>MSN Instant Messenger</i> it was an Ironman. I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that in that instant I decided to become a triathlete. There was no great epiphany for that. But it did teach me to take things one step at a time... and also that my dad is a badass, because he went for a run after that and I passed out watching SpongeBob.<br />
<br />
Later, I learned the old-world sensibilities of road cycling from my dad. Suddenly, I was spending summer weekends wearing spandex and contemplating the Nebraska wind with my old man. From there, it wasn't much of a stretch to jump to road running, and after swim season my Junior year of high school I ran my first half marathon.<br />
<br />
What a lot of people don't know is that I was accepted into dental school, and nearly went, just like my Dad. I still remember the day I told him I'd gotten in... he looked like I punched him in the gut! Frankly, I think he is happy I followed the triathlete in him, and not the dentist.<br />
<br />
I live in Omaha now, which is where my dad started his runner/cyclist/triathlete lifestyle. Not too long ago, I was running through the hills of California street near Dundee (dad's old stompin' grounds) when I heard some footsteps behind me. I know I'm not that fast on the world scale, but still, to be passed by a casual runner is pretty rare for me. This skinny, 20-something guy comes blowing by me on the hill up from Saddle Creek (a mile-long grinder) and I had to stop.<br />
<br />
I swear, it was my dad as he was at my age. He had a shaggy head of hippie lettuce, a 70's mustache, some old school Nike flats, and those same orange shorts dad used to run marathons in! (Think of an Irish/Norwegian Prefontaine) I gave him a nod, and he gave me a knowing smile, and just like that, I was chasing my dad up a hill again. I took it to be a good sign... dad used to give me a beer after a ride or run under the premise of "don't tell your mother..."<br />
<br />
I remember when I realized I could beat my dad on the bike. It was my junior year of college, and we were going up Trail Ridge Road, again in Estes Park. I was chatting away, my lungs totally acclimated to the altitude from 3 years of swimming in Laramie. When I looked back, waiting for a response, I saw my dad 100 meters back. I was simultaneously pumped that I'd finally dropped the wily old bastard, and sad... (<i>why am I crying writing this???) </i>If I could beat my dad, who would I ride with now?<br />
<br />
We finished the ride together, and to this day I still love to go ride with me dad. After all, he taught me how.<br />
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Whenever I'm not sure of what to do in life, I always know I have a great example to follow in my dad. And, Dad, if I ever do decide to grow up, Just like in that Rodney Atkins song, I'll still know what to do, I've been watching you my whole life.<br />
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Wow, I just cried a lot writing this... and yep... I'm in a Starbucks... Good lord, I'm getting out of here. Love you, Pops! Until Food Blog Friday, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-78815410312143830512013-11-06T20:30:00.001-08:002013-11-06T20:30:26.274-08:00Triathlon Tuesday: Season RecapSo I've decided to force myself to blog more and add a #TriathlonTuesday to my weekly lineup that already includes #FoodBlogFriday. The truth is, I really enjoy writing, I just need to make the time to do it... and my sister believes that I need to write more about being a triathlete than about being a fat kid...<br />
<br />
Today I'm going to start the series off by recapping my season. You may have noticed I don't do race recaps generally speaking. There are several reasons for that; first of all, I think race recaps are boring, and I'm actually a triathlete. For you non-triathletes (I decided it would be blasphemous to call you "gentiles") they must be like, claw-your-eyes-out boring, so I don't subject you to that. Also, I believe that a lot of it should be between me and my coach.<br />
<br />
Lets be honest though, the biggest reason is I haven't had a ton of great results this season... And I'm not the type of guy who writes a review on Yelp because I had a bad experience at a restaurant... I only Yelp the good ones!<br />
<br />
This season had its ups and downs for me. A lot of ups because over all I had improved significantly from last year. My fitness, when it was where we wanted it, was great and I showed a few glimpses of solid results. However, I also had a lot of downs. These resulted from a lot of different things. There were corners cut on my part, other obligations like weddings and moves, and me not always having my head on straight. In short, the faults were entirely my own.<br />
<br />
The good news is I learned a ton, as usual. I got a much better idea of how to budget, plan, and organize a season as professional. I learned how hard I can race and still hold it together. The biggest thing I take away from this season though, is hunger. I was too complacent after last season, and I see that now. I was pretending like I've already made it, but the fact is I'm nowhere close. I need to adopt a more blue-collar attitude, and be more driven. I am nowhere near ready to give up on triathlon yet, so stay tuned for new and improved Sam Holmes, coming soon to a race near you next Spring! Until then, its back to the grind this winter, so FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-69180322161118370952013-10-19T20:45:00.000-07:002013-10-19T20:45:27.105-07:00#FBF: Don't Trip, Its Just Fall!<div class="MsoNormal">
Well I’m back at it again! Today, although I am a day late,
I wanna do a Food Blog Friday about the Flavors of Fall. The only problem is, I
don’t like fall all that much…</div>
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<br /></div>
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That’s right, I came out and said it, and you Pumpkin Spice
Latte Lovers are now pissed at me. But lets be honest here, all you people who
post on FaceBook about “loving all these fall colors, and my wool sweaters and
scarves and pumpkin spiced lattes and hot bowls of soup” are really just
compensating for the overwhelmingly-shitty fact that summer is OVER. </div>
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Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love football, and the
holidays, and I’ve had some of my best racing in the fall… I’ve even been known
to don a wool sweater too, (but not a scarf, the word just kinda bothers me. Go
ahead and say it out loud… weird right?) But I have realized lately that I
prefer all of the other seasons to fall. Why? The food, of course!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I realize what this all comes down to is that I don’t really
love the food that most white people’s great-grandparents ate, and those are
the flavors of fall. I think its badass that my Norwegian ancestors pillaged
and burned and generally kicked ass, but you won’t catch me going into a
Norwegian restaurant.</div>
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<br /></div>
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First of all, I’m gonna go on record here and say that this
pumpkin spice thing has gone way too far. I nearly judo-kicked the hipster
brewing my coffee when offered he me a pumpkin spiced latte, which was bad
enough. But then I recently sampled Blue Moon’s Pumpkin Spiced Ale, which was
like biting into a pumpkin candle, and thus a mistake in my life on the caliber
of betting my brother that leprechauns were real. Don’t do it, unless you want
to lose five dollars and a significant amount of faith in your friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Second, I can’t get into any of the fall vegetables. Squash
is probably the 17<sup>th</sup> worst word in the English language (again, say
it aloud) and I’m just not big on the flavor or texture, generally speaking. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“But, Sam, just bake it with cinnamon and brown sugar,” You
say? At this point I’m just confused. Am I eating dessert or a side dish? I’ll
pass on your cinnamon-mush.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Also, I have a hard time getting excited about soup. It is
another one of those weird words (I swear I don’t do drugs, but say it aloud…)
I am rarely wowed by a soup… especially if it has squash in it. However hearty,
filling, and healthy they are, I almost never <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want </i>soup, I’ll just tolerate it. </div>
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Now, Holiday fare is a sensitive subject. People love this
stuff, and why not?? It’s comforting, it reminds us of our childhood, and our
friends and family is around, and not to mention its generally bad for us! But
I’ll again go on record and say that I’m usually hummed out by a holiday meal.
Look at your plate, its made up of varying shades of brown mush and a dry piece
of turkey, right? You want me to gorge myself on that?? Don’t worry though;
I’ll do a post a little closer to the big day to show you how to add some color
to your Turkey Day.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Maybe my bitterness on this subject isn’t due to the food.
Maybe the Pumpkin Spiced Latte is just a harbinger of colder weather and no
more triathlon until spring, and not necessarily all bad food. Ok, I’ll stop
bitching now. Next week I’ll give y’all a couple fall recipes that I do like!</div>
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Fall fruits? Apples and pears? Now we’re getting somewhere!
And you know what, I went back to the coffee shop later and took the hipster up
on his Pumpkin Spiced Latte (after apologizing for breathing fire on him) and
it was kind of ok… Lets just say a small was plenty for this guy. </div>
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Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!</div>
Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-20467086230085577442013-09-21T20:18:00.000-07:002013-09-21T20:27:42.537-07:00#FBF: Eating on the RoadNow I realize, it is no longer Friday... I had to travel yesterday, and I was not on the ball gettin' my food blog up! We can still party like its Food Blog Friday right??<br />
<br />
This post is pretty pertinent to my situation right now... since I am, in fact, on the road! Eating on the road can be tricky for a triathlete, or anyone for that matter. Do you want to save money, or do you want to splurge? Are you looking for predictable, or do you want to go crazy and try something different? Me, I like to strike a balance.<br />
<br />
When driving to a race, it is a lot easier to plan this all out. Being able to bring a cooler, and having transportation means you can do just about anything you want for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. However, I often have to fly to races, and I can't always live off of the 17 PowerBars I stuffed into my carry-on... I have tried before, and the result was gassy/hungry/grumpy Sam.<br />
<br />
So you've got a race that is just a few short hours in the car away. My advice is bring a cooler. Even if you're throwin' money in the air like Waka Flocka, it never hurts to save money for at least a couple meals, and its good to have some comforts from home... like PowerBars and bourbon... wait, what?<br />
<br />
On top of that, you've got the convenience of being able to eat exactly when you're hungry, which is a big deal to triathletes! Just ask Rachel, there is about a 5 minute margin between me being like "sure, I could eat," and VIOLENTLY hangry! (That's not a typo... hungry + angry = hangry) And, your snack can be something reasonably healthy, rather than a cream cheese turnover from a gas station... which are also delicious, no matter what Rachel might tell you.<br />
<br />
Now, say you flew (or just didn't take my advice like the dumb schmuck you are) and don't have any food. And ya know what, even if you did bring a cooler, you're going to want something other than turkey sandwiches at some point... like PowerBars and bourbon... wait, what?<br />
<br />
So, you venture away from your musty used mattress and HBO (some people call this a "hotel rooms") to get some food at a restaurant. Now comes the hard part. Obviously, everyone has different budgets, so you have to consider how much you are looking to spend. Also, as a triathlete, you have to think about your meal choices, especially leading up to a race.<br />
<br />
The best place to start, no matter what, is by asking a local. Look for a somewhat hefty guy. Not too fat, because then he might just be indiscriminate when eating, but you definitely don't want to ask the scrawny vegan hippie dude... unless you're into that...<br />
<br />
OK, was that too mean? My bad... Seriously though, ask any local, and they will tell you what they like and what is popular, which is a great place to start looking. Sure, sure, the day before your race you should probably play it safe and get something you know. For me, that means spaghetti and meatballs... like a lot of spaghetti and meatballs.<br />
<br />
However, if you are at your race location for a few days, I feel that is it your RESPONSIBILITY to try the local flavor! I got this from my dad. Growing up, we never ate at McDonald's on vacation. We tried out the weird taco truck... which is why I now have the GI tract of a grizzly bear and a taste for weird food. Find that hole in the wall and try it out. Do some research online beforehand, or better yet, ask a real live local!<br />
<br />
On the coast? You better get some seafood. In Texas? You better get some BBQ... in fact, no matter where you are, you should probably just get some BBQ... and PowerBars and bourbon. In Portland? Then its ok to ask the skinny vegan hippie... Is it Food Blog Friday? Then FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!! Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5929209996929026411.post-34589229658748609862013-09-13T21:30:00.002-07:002013-09-13T21:30:27.708-07:00#FBF: Wilson and Washburn ReviewIts Friday again!<br />
<br />
Living in Omaha means I get a whole bunch of new restaurants to try out. I heard a statistic a while ago that Omaha has the most locally-owned restaurants per-capita in the country... I don't know if that is still true, but either way, I will take it upon myself to review a whole mess of them for your enjoyment! I know, its a rough job, but I'll do my best. I will begin with Wilson and Washburn.<br />
<br />
Wilson and Washburn is a new establishment in downtown Omaha on 14th and Harney. Slightly off the beaten path, not hugely advertised, and without a large sign out front, it is just the sort of place we hipsters love... See, we feel cooler than you when telling you about new places that you've never hear of. Anyway, the place is evidently named after two rather successful female brother owners. Add that to the early 20th century style decor, and it is a great nod to early Omaha.<br />
<br />
The menu in and of itself is just impressive. When they say they have a "from scratch" kitchen, they mean it. House-smoked brisket, and house-ground beef? House-made ketchup? I mean, come on, don't these people have anything better to do than make their own, well, everything?? Obviously, it pays off. The food is as delicious as the 24 beers on tap... and yes, they are all weird hipster beers...<br />
<br />
Rachel and I shared some beet chips, which were perfectly crispy with that salty, earthy, beet-y taste I love. For a main course I had the cheeseburger. House-ground beef really does make all the difference here. When its topped with cheddar cheese, caramelized onions, and heirloom tomatoes on a pretzel bun, it makes one of the best burgers I have ever had. And that is saying something. Rachel had the Mac n' Cheese, which was almost as good as my momma's. Buffalo mozz, asiago, and smoked gouda, covered with a truffle and panko crust. The whole meal took decadence to a whole new level, without the price tag.<br />
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As I said, the price was pretty reasonable, given the detail the owners put into the menu. Also, the service was impeccable. The bartender who helped us knew the menu backwards and front, and could pair any of the items with a great beer. I would like to see a full menu, rather than just a la carte, but given that it is predominantly a bar, I wasn't too upset about having to order my french fries separate from my burger.... after all, they were house-cut, and came with smoked ketchup. Well, until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!!Sam Holmeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11553816750313464703noreply@blogger.com0