#TriathlonThursday: Chasing Dad's Shadow

I 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.

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 whether to follow in my dad's footsteps, but rather of how to follow in them.

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!

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.

It probably wasn't all that long of a ride, but to a sullen 7th grader who'd rather be on MSN Instant Messenger 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.

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.

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.

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.

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..."

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... (why am I crying writing this???)  If I could beat my dad, who would I ride with now?

We finished the ride together, and to this day I still love to go ride with me dad. After all, he taught me how.

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.

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!!!!

Triathlon Tuesday: Season Recap

So 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...

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.

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!

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.

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!

#FBF: Don't Trip, Its Just Fall!

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…

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.

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!

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.

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. 

Second, I can’t get into any of the fall vegetables. Squash is probably the 17^th worst word in the English language (again, say it aloud) and I’m just not big on the flavor or texture, generally speaking.

“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.

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 want soup, I’ll just tolerate it.

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.

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!

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.

Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!

#FBF: Eating on the Road

Now 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??

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.

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.

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...

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.

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!

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!!!

#FBF: Wilson and Washburn Review

Its Friday again!

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.

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.

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...

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.

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!!!

#FBF: Ode to a Server

Happy Friday, y'all! Today I wanna talk about food, as I do most Fridays. Well, actually this week I'm going to shift gears a bit. I wanna talk about the most important person in your restaurant experience; your server!

Now, in my opinion, there are two types of people in this world: Those who have worked as a server, and those who haven't. If you are in the camp of "those who haven't," please raise your hand.

Oh, you haven't? GO PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE STOMACH 13 TIMES FOR STIFFING YOUR FELLOW BROKE HUMAN BEING!!!!! News flash! Your ranch dressing is not that important, and $2.47 is not an acceptable gratuity! (unless your bill was less than $15)

Servers are a rare breed who work almost exclusively on tips. In other words, we get paid only as much as you want to pay us.  We basically just act as liaison between the cooks in the back and the customers in the front, successfully pissing both parties off without actually being the one to do anything wrong. In other words, we are the bearers of bad news. It is a fast-paced, high stress work environment, but that cash payday at the end of every night makes it worth it... sometimes...

Now, a lot of people (most of you who raised your hand earlier) are actually quite terrible at being a dining out customer. Sure, courtesies have changed in the past few decades, but as a general rule think of your server (and all your restaurant staff) as a fellow human being and you should not have any problems. For a more detailed plan of attack, check out my how-to in reverse below!

How to Receive Bad Service at a Restaurant:

1) Ask the host to move several different times before settling on a table. Better yet, just walk in and sit where you'd like. These people clearly don't know what they're doing anyway.

2) As the server greets your table, interrupt them loudly by stating what you'd like to drink/eat in one-word sentences (i.e., "WATER!!"). If you brought your air horn, now would be the time to use it.

3) Create a very complex version of what you want, and order that to eat. Better yet, ask for something that isn't even on the menu. (Now, this one get's a little controversial. I understand there are a lot of food allergies and even more yuppy diets that tell you what you can and can't eat. Ideally, you would go in knowing this and look at menus before deciding on a restaurant. Simple fact is, the more complicated your order, the angrier the server and the kitchen staff)

4) Ask for one thing at a time, each time your server comes to the table. No, your ketchup, ranch dressing, iced tea refill, and extra napkins absolutely cannot come out all at the same time!

5) Send food back. Now, obviously there are instances when this is necessary (objects in food, cold food, etc.) but you need to know that if you ordered a steak medium and send it back for not being cooked right, you are now Public Enemy Number 1. Ask yourself, "Is it worth everyone from the dishwasher to the general manager hating me to get my steak re-cooked?" Now that I think about it, maybe that steak is medium after all!
          *Side note: In my experience, spitting, etc. in customers' food DOES NOT HAPPEN! Thinking that sending your food back will cause someone to huck a loogie in it is not true like in the movies, but it will make everyone working at the restaurant want to murder your children... which they already did anyway, your brats are messy, whiny, and obnoxious.

6) Leave a bad tip. Really, this is the best way to get bad service, and bad karma. Nowadays, there is no set dollar amount that is good or bad, but rather, it is a percentage. Let me give you a breakdown of the message you send with different tip percentages:

20% and up: Great job, Sam! The food was good, and your service was great. What's more, we think you are handsome, your jokes are funny, and we want you to succeed in life!

15-19%: Good job! We liked you and the food well enough, but I'm not about to give you my daughter's hand in marriage. I hope you move on to bigger and better things, so here's some money. Definitely get a real job though...

10-15%: Well, that was OK. Either there was a problem with the food or the service. I don't hate you as a person, Sam, but I'm definitely not about to call you on the weekend. Really, what I'm saying is, you did a decent job, but I am too much of a cheap ass or too broke to give you a proper tip. Sorry I'm not sorry.

5-10%: Either a) I was born before 1955 (Dad, I'm talking to you here), b) there was a huge problem with our dining experience and I am blaming you, c) I really can't afford to be eating out, and this tip thing is the first thing in my budget to get cut, or d) F#%& YOU!!

0-5%: I literally hope you starve to death.

And that's it, folks! I honestly wish I didn't know what each table left me, so I wouldn't have to harbor all these feelings, but that's just how it works!

So the next time you go out to eat, try to remember that your server is just a person. They have their own lives completely outside of serving! Ask them about it, and get to know what they do other than bring you ranch dressing and clean up after your children. Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!

St. Louis 5150

On June 28th I raced the St. Louis 5150. Since there have been so few Pan-Am Cups in North America this year, I have been racing a lot of non-draft events to keep sharp... and because they're fun too, in spite of getting bike-envy of age-groupers who make astronomically more money than I do...

The race actually took place in Innsbrook, which is pretty much just idyllic. I would love to vacation here, or even get a training camp set up here. It is nestled in the wooded hills outside St. Louis, and there are several very pristine lakes around. Rachel was glad she came with me, if for no other reason than to enjoy the views!

We drove down after a day in Omaha, and I warmed up a bit and scoped out the race course the day before. I knew it was going to be tough, but I didn't know how tough! Olive Garden for dinner, lights out, an early alarm, and an hour drive brings us to the race course again. Now, I got in a little warm up, but then I realized I had to use the bathroom. I went to the porta-potties... of which there were only 12 for 900+ competitors... and sparing you the gory details had to wait and wait and wait and finally was finished just a few minutes before my wave left! I got transition set up and warmed up just a shade more and headed to the water.

Rachel is a great motivator for me, without even knowing it. I've never even fully illustrated this to her, but seeing her just before the start brings out my prehistoric this-is-MY-mate-and-I-will-fight-to-the-death-for-her instincts. I know it sounds weird, and I realize none of my competitors will probably even come in contact with her at all, let alone hurt her. But I had visualized that, and the weird thing was, it WORKED! I was in kill mode toeing the line. I led all the way through both turns, and then got passed by 3 guys who I stayed with. Coming into the finish, I remembered I told Rach I would come out in the top 3, so I passed one of the guys back and hit the beach.

I helped a guy with his zipper running up to transition (there is not a single level surface in that whole county, so we ran up and up and UP) and got some Karma points, and came out of transition in second behind Mr. Billington himself. I knew the bike would be hard, but not having a good warmup really hurt me in the first few miles, which is where I got passed. It was a hilly, winding course, so I lost contact with the leaders, but came off the bike 8th.

I would like to start out the run recap by saying that Ultramax Sports are murderers. Some swimmer must have stolen that dude's girlfriend a while ago, because he clearly hates us swimmers judging by that run! I cannot stress enough how brutal this run was. It was mostly on gravel, and to say it was hilly would be like saying Lindsey Lohan kinda likes to party. The hills were steep, rolling, and everywhere. I thought I might have to crawl at times. I got passed twice, and crossed the line, gasping for air and vomiting shards of my pelvis into the bushes, for a 10th place finish.

I was reasonably happy, but again I had hoped to be in the money. Still, I think 10th here was a much better result than 10th in Lawrence with this field and this course.

After the race, Rachel and I had a bit of a vacation. We ate at some damn good restaurants (Pi Pizza, restaurant review in the future?) went to the zoo, and toured the Anheuser-Busch Factory, which was really impressive. I think we both needed that time, kind of away from everything and being together, more than either of us realized.

Until next time, FOLLOW THE PACE RABBIT!!