Booze and Clipless Pedals Do Not Mix

Booze and Clipless Pedals Do Not Mix

It all started with a slight nervousness as I pondered upon placing my new, bright and shiny, clipless shoes into my clipless pedals. I was so frightened that I would fall off, I decided to walk my bike all the way to the park in my socks. I was on my way to a very dear friend who has contributed much in the way of emotional support as well as financial support in helping me purchase the equipment needed to have a good assault at the up and coming Mayflower Sprint Triathlon.

Dinner was scheduled for 6pm and it was almost 5:15pm. Now, my friend lives on the east side, 89th neighborhood. I live on the west side, 68th neighborhood. I did not have a metro card as I did not pick up my pay check so I still only had sixteen dollars in the bank. The bike was a no brainer and it would get me there easily. I could go slow enough not to sweat through my shirt. I did bring another shirt change so that I would be a nice smelling house guest. My friend is of proper lineage and deserves a respectful and proper house guest. This is not always easy for me to do since everything I own, I could fit in the back seat of my car. Three pair of pants, two dress shirts and various miss matched socks. Lol. Tons of sweat pants and ghetto looking short sleeve shirts. I am a man of simple needs without want for anything but a smile and a plateful of food once in a while. Life is great for me that way.

I sat on the porch with my friend, but this time it was different. I asked for an adult beverage. I do not drink hardly at all. I have lost 23 pounds now and with my little frame and physical shape, it really does not take much to get me tipsy. I was offered bourbon and something about soda or rocks - hell - I just pretended to know what he was talking about. I ended up with bourbon on the rocks. Holy crap! How can anyone drink that stuff? Lol. After my first chocolate milk sized gulp, I just sipped for the rest of the night. The funny thing was that after four hours of sipping, every time I got up I would feel progressively more dizzy. One drink, not even finished, and yet I was tipsy. I asked my host if the next time I come over if I would be served only a half a glass of this stuff because it really was strong. My friend's answer was "Paul. Yes it is strong and do you know that is your 7th glass of that so called stuff?" Oh my Lord! What the hell? I still had my bike to ride home! I still only had my clipless shoes to put into my clipless pedals and try to navigate over one block, up one block, and over one more block, back into the park where I would be a bit safer than in the middle of the Manhattan taxi bumper car driven world of 5th Avenue. I was freaking out but not letting on at all how I was thinking of walking home the entire way in my socks.

Okay, on the bike now. I did not have half as much trouble putting my shoes into the pedals as I thought. Road over one block and felt like my shoe was not very tight. I moved close to an SUV so I could hold onto the side and try to fix my shoe. I was only leaning on the side for a mere second when I fell right over on my shoulder while still clipped into the darn bike. The couple that was getting out of this vehicle kept a stern face but I know they must have been pissing their pants when they saw the likes of me. I had to ask them to get my feet out of the darn pedals and that it was okay to laugh because this was pretty darn funny, although those were not the exact choice of words I used. Lol. They immediately were laughing so hard as they tried to get me out of the pedals. At this time, because of a bit of aerobic activity, the effects of the booze tripled its impact and I was toast. They offered to drive me home and place my $50 Schwinn bike in their 95 thousand dollar Mercedes. I declined the offer and managed to get back on my bike and get back into the park.

In the park, I was now going the wrong direction against the other runners and bikers who had reflective clothing blinking annoying lights and head lights on their bikes. You see, it was almost 9pm here in Manhattan and it was pitch black. I came upon a truck re-stocking a restaurant in the park. I did not think that he could not see me and I skidded at the last second and managed to slide around in front of him, through a huge bush which had two people doing very loving or very naughty things. I know this because I crashed right into them. A rather plum-aged old man was yelling at me in Russian and a not so ravishing, topless woman was now standing over me with a clump of newly planted green grass sticking out of her very bad wig, trying to help me up. I did need lots of help at that point. I managed to calm the man down and walked the bike home for the last 1/4 mile. I really could have used Ivan Dragoff at this point. Lol. Wait, come to think of it, he sort of looked like Ivan! Lol.

I got home and opened my backpack to get my keys and do you know what the bleep I found in my pack? A darn pair of slip on loafers. I was too nervous in the beginning to remember them and on the way home probably just too darn tipsy to care. Lol.

Not a very good way to learn for the first time to ride in my bright white and shiny clipless shoes and clipless pedals.

Man Hits Curb - Film at 11:00

                                      Man Hits Curb - Film at 11:00

Damn Pine Needles and Bark  

                                    

 

My frustration supersedes the fact that a race bike going at a speed of 25 mph is better left glued to the pavement, swerving in, out and around people, horse drawn carriages, bikes and other aggravating factors that cause a serious athlete serious chaotic confusion. My ignorant "let's get Mikey to do it" mentality almost cost me my leg as well as any chance of doing the upcoming Mayflower Sprint Triathlon, let alone even finish.

Each time I arrived at this particular area on the lower loop by the old Tavern on the Green, I kept thinking about swinging up and around the children's play area on the hill, then come blasting down around the News van, back across the entrance of the Tavern on the Green and back on my course. My plan was great and would have worked if it had not been for the small, unanticipated pine needles and tree bark that had been matted to the road by the tears of sap mixed with still the morning wash of dew kept alive through the dense shade.

 

                              

A little more background as to why I really needed to gain a bit more of an edge on my speed here in the park. On my 10th lap around the 6 mile loop, I met a very knowledgeable woman on her bike. She was fast and lean. Did I say fast? She was a "girl" and I did not want her to go faster than I was. It was my last 25 miles of 72 which was my downhill training. My downhill training consists of riding as fast as I can down the hill. Simple to do you may think, but the spent energy does not allow you to make it up the next hill without extreme lactate build up. The lactate build up is something that will shut you down quicker than Vito throwing you into that tub of cement he always seems to have on hand in the back yard. Come to think of it, all his friends seem to have access to the same sort of thick mud. It was a good thing I was not concerned about going up the hill. I was just fixated on going down the hill and not stopping until I reached 30 mph each time. The 30 mph was not so hard since on a straight-a-way I can achieve that speed for a straight 7 miles, still working on a total of 12 straight miles of 28 to 33 mph for my race.

This damn woman with her slick bike and fancy outfit was always just out of reach of me and it was really making me madder than a one-legged Jack Rabbit. She was telling me all the things I was doing wrong and you know what? She was always right. It felt like I was riding along side of my ex-wife, God bless her little heart. The ex-wife; not the woman on the bike. Lol The woman on the bike I

was having a vision of sabotaging.

 

                                     .

"Care to have another go at it?" she yelled out from the cockpit of her rocket sled and I said "OK, one more try". So we both approached the Everest of the park. I looked at her and she just as dastardly looked back and then neither one of us bothered to push the other. We strolled up that hill talking and trying to psyche the other out. Got to the top and it was on!

I decided now "how do you make Broke Back Dad go fast?" You give the other person a head start and then Broke Back Dad has a reason. It is called humiliating the opponent and their silly flying rocket sled of a bike and its fancy colors and names on it. So she was off and she was screaming. I knew I could not let her get too far out because she would have torn me a new one with her quick-witted humor. I was gaining on her; then right up against the side of her with flames now coming out of the back of her race bike. She yelled over to me "30 mph", but I could hardly hear her because I flew by her so damn fast that I tore the straps off both pedals. I knew this but I did not know exactly how to do it and stand up at the same time. I was jumping from side to side, like trying to jump right over the top of the bike then slamming down with all my weight on the other pedal. I don't know how fast I was going but she thinks I may have gotten as fast as 40 mph. Whatever the speed it was faster than her. My legs now will not pedal at all and here she comes, drinking and pedaling right past me.

                                

 

"Nothing left?" she yells out. OMG! No she did not! Lol This woman is a riot but she was way too cool to let go. She was so lean and strong looking. Every muscle in her shoulders and back were as taunt as the chain line on a super tanker. Long blond hair flying like a kite tale keeping her on track. I caught up to her and for some reason, she decided to push it. At that point, I thought of taking the short cut. I was getting ready to make my secret move.

 

Shhhh. I was behind her blind spot. She would not know what hit her. My last lap. No way in hell was she going to dominate me. Here it comes. The intersection at the bottom, climb the hill, stay to the left, one beverage and sand dog cart swerve, cut, duck back to the left. Now!! Now!! Take it! Go, go go! And I made the craziest sharp right I had ever dared on this Hobo Bike of mine. I am up flying like the tail wind of a fighter jet. Feeling in the groove coming down the hill. Only 25 more yards. Oh crap! Losing it! Hit something! I am now aiming for the grass. My eyes, if anyone could see, I am sure showed that "Mikey" can't do this one.

 

I hit the curb on a slide. My bike stood straight up. My foot, now with a broken, strapless pedal, went right through the middle of the bike and down I went. I managed to stiff-arm my fall, taking the immense impact through my bowling ball shoulders. Then down I went. As I lay on the ground, I thought "what an idiot", and "all this because I did not want a woman to beat me."

Come on guys, haven't you ever been in that situation before? I really don't care most of the time because I can usually win. I, for the most part, don't do things I am not good at. With this woman: I really could not catch her. She humbled me to the point of "I want to just go home".

The whole ordeal was caught frame by frame, by a local news person that was trying to find just the right location for his shoot. He had his camera on auto and was just blasting frame after frame after frame, like you would with an automatic weapon. Push a button and 20 photos are gone in a blink. Well I came as a blink and was down just as fast. This man followed me to the Great Lawn and told me who he was. He thought I would be interested in these photos. I gave him my email address. He took a few more photos, which at that point was just pissing me off. He asked me to sign a release and I said "no". Then he left. Quite frankly, I did not think I would have ever gotten those pictures on my email.

The lady who is the topic of this blog entry is a world class racer and guess what type of bike she had? Paraplegic racing bike. She was turning the wheels with her hands. She was as old as my mother. Ain't that a bitch?

No strength to even put my darn shirt back on.

I thought to myself "How do I get this body, once it is shutting down, to still produce at optimum level? Where do I go in the mind and how deep will it take to trick the cerebellum into a typical fight or flight mode?" I did it on the bike with great success. I know I can do this with my run. I am now at a level of conditioning that my next body and mind experiment can take place without damage.

Stage #1

Tire out the body so that the level of aggression that is about to be thrown acutely at my legs will be at a bare minimum, thus protecting the integrity of the hips and pelvis that are carrying the load.

 

Stage #2

Swim 80 laps in the pool, which is approximately 1 mile; no time limit, at a pool being 23 meters or 25 yards. This took me an amazing 3 hours. I had to stop several times because the life guard told me to. Bike a quick 25 miles not worried about time. This took me 46 minutes. Beat That!!

Stage #3

Run the bottom loop of Central Park until I cannot possibly lift my legs. My mind needs to be in the "I just want to go home NOW" mode. The park is approximately 1.5 miles in distance. I run at a 10 minute mile pace. 10 minute mile pace is all I have, ever, that is my fastest as well as my slowest speed. It is what it is, until I implement my new experiment. I am so excited to show again all those so called "body mechanics experts" and their degrees and plaques hanging on the wall, what really works. Where are all the fitness magazines getting all their information from? Surely not from ME! Lol The mind is the strongest muscle that we have. To gain control of the mind you will inherently control the body in which it dwells.

I ran 6 miles; puked; then ran 1.5 more; fought with myself to do one more loop. All said and done, I ran 9 miles and did not have a thing left in me. I was ready!!! Where is my homeless man?

Stage #4

A: Hydrate but not as to look pregnant.

B: Nutrition - one peanut butter and grape jelly sandwich cut in the shape of a race bike. Yes, a race bike. I found an inspirational cutout in a cake shop.

C: Look for the homeless man I paid by the grace of the donors from this site that have, out of the goodness of their hearts, sent me money specifically to help with my training.

Stage #5

The rest of the story......

 

Twilight has taken a grip on the park. Humidity, as if being transformed into a tropical rain forest, dwells heavy, grasping at my lungs. My heart is now visible palpitating through the thick muscled skin of my sweat soaked chest. I cannot find my homeless man nor do I care if he shows up at all. The vibrations of the worms, I swear I can feel as they jockey for position toward the twilight of the immense glowing, magnetic moon. "Hey mofo, is that you?" I hear off in the distance. This all to familiar voice is my homeless fellow, Ivan Dragoff. Ivan seems to be a bit tipsy but will do just fine for what I have in store for him. I most likely should have had more security around my employee so that he, not I, would have been also in optimum condition for this critical experiment.

"Good evening Ivan. Please come with me while I unlock that bike over there and get that duffel bag out of the bushes. I am going to have you ride this bike around the bottom loop of this park, while pulling me along behind you. You will not get paid if you stop! You will not get paid if there is any slack in the rope. You will not get paid until I cannot get up off the pavement when I fall. Once I do fall and am not willing to go anymore, then this is where you make your money. Ivan, you then need to get me one complete lap from where I give up back to where I give up. Do you understand, Ivan, how important this is?"

"Yes." Ivan replied.

I did not place Ivan on the bike until I had all my padding on all parts of my body. I looked like a hockey player in Speedos. Quite the sight. I have the padding on because I am intelligent enough to know that my body will probably be tripping and possibly fall. I do not want an injury. Yes, this might seem to be extreme to some of you but for me, it just makes perfect sense. Ivan is now on the bike and I have a weight belt around my middle and a rope tied in a bowline knot so Ivan cannot untie me and steal my bike. I don't think Ivan could untie a bow if I only did that. We set off and I actually kept up for the next three miles. I attribute this to the rather long 30 minute rest I had. I was coming up on my 4th mile and all of a sudden, my legs did not want to move. I knew they could move but my mind said "ENOUGH"! And it was very loud and clear. Ivan, that bastardo, did not stop and at that point I had to move or get dragged back to square one on my face. I was now puking as I ran but all of a sudden, a euphoric and quite overwhelming sensation came drowning my body with all sorts of vibrations that I almost felt like I was floating. Probably was hallucinating because if this is not the stupidest thing I have ever done then it is pretty darn close to it. Lol I started to run past Ivan so much that if I ran any faster, I would have turned him around since I was tied to the back of the bike. This was the motor response I was looking for in my mind. The synapses that were firing off were now in the fight or flight mode. The "run or have your body ground into the asphalt" mode has been achieved. Oh and the milk crate was not there. If it was, Ivan would have had a keg in it with a siphon tube. Ivan kept yelling at me saying "Mofo. If you don't let me pull you, do I still get paid?" I was cracking up and so were the cops that had been riding along side of us pretending to be oblivious to the whole ordeal. I slowed down and started to enjoy the kiss of the full moon seemingly with its protection of Ivan and myself as we made history in Central Park of Manhattan on the 23rd night of a very suffocating evening, here in July.

Back up bike on a morning ride

Friday, July 23, 2010

Back up bike on a morning ride

Central Park Reservoir

Central Park Reservoir

The Simple Magic of Body Rest

The Simple Magic of Body Rest

Today I took a taxi for the first time in two years. My taxi ride was not because the underground "limo service" subway is a sweltering, sweaty, smelly, people clustered web of madness. It is also not because I needed to be somewhere really fast because I never need to be somewhere ever really fast. I am really never in a hurry to go anywhere. Life, if caressed properly, will always allow you sufficient time to do just about anything. My taxi ride was because my legs would not work today. My knees were screaming at me to lay off. I have never felt so destroyed in all my life. I also am a cheap son of a gun and would rather die before I had to use a taxi.

Today, a few more steps and I would have collapsed. Hell, the subterranean railroad I can handle. I just carry two or three shirts, a bottle of aftershave for my Portagy shower and I am good to go. I am as fresh as the next smelly city dweller next to me. But, not that guy with both arms up over his head with the death grip on the overhead railing. Oh, and did I mention that he had hair in his armpits that was longer than the dog on the leash next to him? I know, gross right? Lol Not to mention it looked just like Willie Nelson on a good day, in the rain... oooooo

A taxi, me? Oh no you did not. Well that tells me I need to back the heck off. I always seem to get carried away with things. Have you ever gone over 100 mph in a car that should really only be going 35 mph? Well, there you have it. This car, for today is all show and not an ounce of go.

So, off to the beach was in the cards for me and not just any beach, but the clothes less worn beach. Or the clothing optional beach if you prefer. Have you ever been to a clothes less worn beach? In the upper east coast? It is not pretty, but if you are training for a triathlon and need a boost in feeling great as all get out about yourself while your insides only know the reality of your existence, then do I have a spot for you!

Really, I did not mean to piss you off

Really, I did not mean to piss you off

A very fit man was riding what appeared to be a ten thousand dollar and then some racing bike. Sharp green frame with a yellow soled back tire. The bike almost looked animated, for it looked like it was straight out of a Betty Boop movie.




Now to see if i can get out of this suit and go riding!

                                                                           
The man in question was really burning up the track. I had no intention of going fast today as I had my milk crate strapped to the back of my donated bike from Martha's Bike Shop, loaded with my two 25lb plates strapped together with a mile of my most favorite duct tape. I simply wanted to ask this man if the gloves on his hands would help my hands from falling asleep from putting pressure against the handlebars.

I drummed up enough strength to get up close to him and yell over, "Hey, hey mister! Need to ask you a question" He took one look at me and thought I was some sort of a kook. I, for one, do not look like anything special on the track. I ride incognito so that I can just do my thing. Plus, I have a struggle wearing tight shorts and cool clothes. Probably why my body building years were cut short - lol! The clothes do not make you go faster. 

 

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. He thought I was out of my mind and decided to go even faster. For me this was a struggle because I was already carting around 50 extra pounds on my bike. I bet his bike only weighed 2 lbs at the most. I finally got to ask the question and he said he wore the gloves because he wanted to protect his hands and that they were not for circulation. I asked if there is anything on the market that will stop my hands from falling asleep and he said there is one sure fire method. I fell for the trap and asked him what it was. He said "cut your hands off" and then he fled off.  I caught up with him again and told him that I am doing my first triathlon and then he was very much interested in all my questions.  Now why did I not think about telling him this in the first place?

 

 We are now flying and I am trying not to have a heart attack! This man was so helpful, giving me all sorts of information I needed and did not need. He told me he is on a team that races all around the country. I said " that is so cool" and would be something I would consider doing. He said you really need to be good to get paid for this sport as a career. Then he yelled out "Buddy, if you want to get good, you need to lighten up your bike. Your bike, for goodness sake, looks like you are going to the flea market. If you want to be fast you need to get rid of all that crap" He then asked me why, if I am training for my first triathlon, do I have a bike rack and milk crate attached to the back. I simply said that it makes me go faster on the weekends.

                                                                              

  This man was now dumbfounded and though I was a complete idiot. He said " Look buddy, there is way too much drag". Then he took a breath and asked with great curiosity and exaggeration "For the love of God, don't tell me you have things in that crate." I simply said "Why, yes and the things inside make me go faster on the weekends. It is my own invention. I have two 25lb plates duct taped together so that I can ride my cadence and then on the weekend, my body will be so tricked and strong that I will fly around this track like there are no hills at all." OMG! He said the "F" word followed by the "You" word and flew off in a tyrant.
WHAT? Did I insult him because he could not lose me on his gazillion dollar bike and I was on my fifty dollar bike from Schwinn? Ooooops, maybe .....lmao

  What works for you!             Knowing your Body, (Your Body)!!
                                           If it works for you then do not change a thing.

Row the Stockbridge Bowl up and back feel the pump

 

 

My new diet has got to be making me last longer. Perhaps I should market it as a little blue pill. Lol.

By the pure fact that I have very little funds, I am constantly trying to work with foods I can afford that will also allow me to not fall on my face from the lack of food or the lack of stamina from food. I think I have found it. Peanut butter and grape jelly. Peanut butter for the protein. Bread for the carbs and grape jelly for the sugar. Seems simply enough and perhaps the reason that I have jumped up from an excruciating mental game of even trying to log in one loop around the Central Park lower half, which is only 1.5 miles, at which I would rather be sleeping than do at all. I am now running in the extreme heat and finding myself running and only stopping because I need to be somewhere. Just this past Wednesday, July 21st  I ran 11 miles and was laughing because it was effortless. My nutrition for that day was oatmeal in the morning: three spoons full, three hard-boiled eggs at work, then at 11am two peanut butter and grape jelly "sandmitches". At 4pm, two more peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches. That was it for the day!

Hell, today, I had three spoons full of oatmeal and the last of my emergency protein shake for when I run out of food. I will probably have a sandwich tonight and that is it. I feel like a million bucks. My brother Mark Morini, the famous body builder and trainer of Plymouth, Massachusetts, told me a very long time ago; "Paul," he said, "you have been a champion power lifter, bodybuilder, martial artist and now training for your first triathlon. In all my years I have never seen you follow a diet. As a matter of fact, I have seen you at your best when you eat in two days as little as I eat at one small meal. It works for you and that is that. Do what you have learned in your life. Do what your body knows how to do." He was right and now I am doing as I have always done. Eat when hungry which might be three times a day or once a day or once every other day, but whatever the case of the past, I need to put it towards my training.

 

My body is not the norm when it comes to work. I work the best when just on the verge of starvation. I get the most out of my cardio and strength when I am lean, balanced with my freakish strength. Yes, my brother is the king when it comes to seeing just what it is that makes a body work, and with me it is that very little produces very much. I cannot listen to books or infomercials. I cannot care that people are asking me if I am sick because I am so thin and lean. I do not recommend my nutrition practices to anybody. I have been training my body every since the day I was born. Ever since i can remember I train at my best when only eating every so often. It works for me but I do not recommend it to anyone. My body is just odd to say the least. I am a personal trainer and if some one told me that they ate this way I would tell them that they are crazy.

 

                                                                     

To be the best in endurance sports, you need to be as light as you can be so that the body flows through the air with effortless ease. Marathon runners and endurance athletes are on the edge of undernourished but in perfect symbiotic state with their body's energy stores. Endurance athletes are the sickliest in shape people on the planet. They train their body for one thing and it is to not only win if they can but to survive with minimal damage to the body. I know I look gaunt, but I am in the best shape of my life. This winter I will put back my 20 pounds if it wants to come back. I will eat more because I will need to rebuild this machine that I want to make into the most Kick Ass dominating triathlete on the planet.

 

I am now convinced by my training that I will now implement Rowing a Shell type boat into my summer training for it will  kick your butt for a back exercise. I am getting stronger and stronger with my swim pull just by rowing this boat. 

 

If you are truely having troubles with your diet I highly recomend that you click this link

Burn the fat - Feed the Muscle  and it will get you all straightend out on the most efficient

and sustainable way to your Fat loss goals.

 

 

Go Jump in a Lake

                                 Go Jump in a Lake



Polar bear Connie Island. I would rather be in this cold as Heck waterthan swim in any lake ocean or pool that i cannot touch the bottom. lol

I decided to swim across a lake this past weekend and it was probably not the smartest thing I have ever done. No, it was probably the dumbest thing I have ever done. I knew that if I swam across a lake that I could not possibly do, I would go at least more than halfway and need to complete it or drown. I know under these circumstances, I seem to rise to the top. I also thought that when I swim this lake, I can definitely swim the race course on my upcoming sprint triathlon. To be honest, I thought the lake was exactly the length of the swim part of this triathlon.

For safety, I asked a very close friend of mine to swim along side of me on a raft. Yes, this defeats the purpose of me thinking I am going to die thus keeping me swimming 'til I complete the lake. Well without knowing this, I got just what I wanted.

The woman agreed and we both set off to conquer the lake. I was swimming in a fashion that I have most recently learned by watching a clip on my computer. I am not confident in the crawl, so I just started out with the breaststroke and relaxed.

I was swimming for some time and was reassured that the sounds of the woman kicking the raft along side of me was my safety net. OH MY LORD! She had never left the shore and I was more than halfway across the lake! I now was just in the situation that I never wanted to be in. Have you ever heard of the phrase "dumb ass"? Well, you can say it now! I give you full permission. Paul Gaipo is a DUMB ASS! lol

                                                                            
Okay, now here I am, fully at ease and actually in a bit of a euphoric state because I am not tired at all and know I can finish this silly feat I set myself up for. I continued swimming but my stroke was getting lazy. My breathing was getting way too shallow and then I was trying to touch the bottom. These are all signs of being about to get into a panic state. I have seen it a million times in my life. I worked my way through it but then, all of a sudden, after doing all the resting strokes I could muster up from my youth, I looked into the water and saw this huge, all white from death, fish slumped over a rock just under my feet. I, at that moment, for a mere second, PANICKED! It could have been the death of me but I caught myself. I simply said 'Finish this damn swim and get the crap out of the water. You will touch yucky stuff. It will not harm you. You will be grossed out from the gook, muck and all sorts of dead things.' You see folks out there in Blog Land, this side of the lake has not been used by the population thus it is raw; untouched by the humanoids of the world.

Okay, I am on the other side of the lake and out of the water. I surely pushed myself to the limits because I had a splitting headache from such a depletion of all oxygen stores in my muscles. It was my guts that got me through this swim. Not my talents or my incredible physical state, but my guts. GUTS is what I will need to drag my old and tired body across the finish line when my limbs refuse to move. GUTS have taken many a warrior over the finish line.

I decided to walk back to the swim beach on the other side (duh). lol When I got there I was a bit disappointed in the lady that did not even try to accompany me to the other side of the lake. Everyone knew I could barely swim, let alone try to swim to the other side of this lake. Yes I was a DUMB ASS, but you don't let someone commit self sacrifice do ya now? Well, it turns out that the lady I asked to help me could not swim at all! That would have been nice to know. Her friends told her to come back. Okay, this I can understand but now why did they not send anyone else to make sure I did not die? The fact is anyone can panic, as I told you I did for a second. Anyone can get a cramp. Bottom line, anything can happen. There were perfectly good swimmers in our group. I asked one lady why she did not let her practically Olympic swimmer daughter come with ME. Her answer was, "it was after 5pm and it was getting late". Actually she meant, " I don't like you and you are a DUMB ASS!" lol

I looked up at the lake and guess what? It was three times the distance of my upcoming sprint triathlon. I know now that I will not drown, especially all psyched up and full of adrenaline.

What Was I Thinking

                               What Was I Thinking

 

Hello again, everyone out there! Paul here still learning but at least found a book on swimming.
The second day of training is finished! Oh, and I should let you in on a secret: the second day took seven days to happen again. lol So my training has been going on for nine days with only two days completed. You never understand how old you are until you actually put your body to the test.

SWIMMING:
I finally got into the pool. I joined the Y.M.C.A. in Manhattan, Upper West Side. They have a fantastic pool which is open at 5 am. My delay in getting here has been the fact that I did not want to embarrass myself making the life guard get up and down while I was swimming. I spent a week watching the swimmers so that I would gain confidence and reassure myself that it is alright not to be great at something right off the bat. I got there first thing in the morning and I must say that it is the best time for me. There is no one there until 5:30 so there is plenty of time for me to splash around and get the heck out of dodge. I spoke to the life guard before I went in. I simply told him that I have not been in the water in over thirty years. I also told him that he should really keep an eye on me. Why is it, when a person over fifty, tells a young kid a serious statement, they always take it as though we are joking? Well, so be it. I got into the pool and started to swim the crawl. I made it halfway down and then had a great panic come over me. I could not breathe and did all I could to get to the other end and hold on for ten minutes. Then I breast stroked back and got out of the pool. The life guard came over to me and suggested I put a life vest on until I can actually swim. He also said " Wow mister. You were not kidding. You really cannot swim and you want to do a triathlon?" He was cracking up. I am really starting to think that this is a big mistake. It is a good thing that in the swim portion of the race I am able to wear a wetsuit. I have purchased a wetsuit that will keep me floating. I figure that if I can just stay afloat, I can just muscle through it on guts until I get to the end of the swim leg. 23 laps in a pool to me is going to be an amazing accomplishment.

 

BIKING:              
My bike portion, today, went extremely well, as it should because I rock on the bike. I invented a great way to make my muscles push harder, longer. I strapped a 100 pound bag of rice on the back of my bike so that no matter how fast or slow I ride, my legs will be invincible when I take the rice bag off for the weekends. The technique has proved to be pure genius. Today I averaged steady 30 miles per hour for 10 miles, then took it down to 25 miles per hour for the last two miles so that when I get off the bike I can at least run my 10 minute mile. I really feel that no matter what improvements I make in my run, I will only have a 10 minute mile run after getting off the bike. Hopefully my bike speed and endurance will get me far enough ahead of the gang and that the 5 minute mile runners will just about catch me, but not until I have crossed the finish line. lol

 

RUNNING:
For this portion of the training, I had the privilege of running in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. My cousins have a cottage on the Stockbridge Bowl. It is right across the lake from Tanglewood. First I drove my car to the exact spot where 1.5 miles would be so that I could run from the cottage and then just turn around and run back and fall onto the couch on the front porch. I ate much better for the past week trying to store up on carbs which is something I do not do. I took off and when I got to the half way point, I decided to just keep running around the entire lake. The lake is almost completely encircled by hills; very steep hills. I did well, only stopping on top of one hill to recover. I made sure to keep a great, conceited profile when a beautiful woman drove by. Hell, I cannot be just standing around in the middle of the rolling hills of the Berkshires doing nothing and wearing cool running gear. lol Girls are girls but probably the women passing me in their cars could run circles around me while carrying a fifty pound pack on their backs. lol I got back to the cottage and asked my cousin how far I just ran and she said that the lake is a 6 mile loop from starting to ending at the cottage. You see, my forty-six year old cousin has run several marathons and this is her training ground so she would know. Bravo for me but now my legs want to kick my own ass for agreeing to keep this body on the move for the past 2 hours. Yes, 2 hours it took me!! 20 minute miles!! LMAO Hey, I am at least Moving Good lord I really need to learn how to run.

Starting from scratch

 

 

I decided today that I need a new challenge, physically, in my life so that I may perhaps stay focused on keeping in shape while enjoying the process of stealth "Old Man" rehab. About a million years ago, all I needed for focus was the female form. I know that last statement might sound a bit off but remember I was only 18 years old. I am 150 years old now! My mind is solid with no need to show off, plume my feathers or flash my colors. I am my own man, with no need for outside stimulus. The fact is, I hate to train, work out, shake my goods to the beat of some rap music. If I had my way every one of those training videos, dance videos or even weight and cardio machines would never have been invented. It is so sad that the industrial revolution, as good as it has been, was the first step in the destruction of the human physical condition.
Yes, today is the day I start my journey to embarrassment. In my naive mind, I will win the Mayflower Sprint Triathlon that is set to go off on my  birthday, September 4, 20113, in Plymouth, Massachusetts. Oh, and if you think this will







This is the only way I am comfortable in the water!

not be my little journey to hell, then let me give you a bit more information. I cannot swim 10 feet without having a panic attack and needing to hold onto the sides of the pool. I absolutely cannot run due to severe shin splints I acquired in prep school at Bridgton Academy in Bridgton, Maine. I have not been on a bike for more than 5 minutes in the past 30 years. As you can read, I have a severe uphill battle to even think I have a chance to be competitive in this, to me, enormous challenge. The point is that if this was not a challenge, then I would no do well with my training. I never do anything half-assed. I train to win even if that means not standing on the top podium at the end of the race. I still train as though I am in the Olympics. Run 3 miles you say? Well I will train for 6. Bike 12 miles you say? Well I will train for 24. Swim .35 miles you say?.........well I am too scared to train right now so I will have to get back to you on that. I need to learn how to swim first...lol  I will probably just go to you tube and watch alot of people swimming. I really can not afford to have a swim coach at this time. My friend who was in the same situation as my self gave me information of a great
book to learn how to swim but I really only want to swim to the other side of the Harbor. I just need to survive. Here is the link he gave me please click on it and tell me what you think. If you give me
a good review then I will kick borrow and beg, and I will purchase this Swim course.
Click Here Triathlon Swimming Technique  thanks any help will be great help
Stay tuned. I will be diligent in the process of updating you on every gulp of water, every badly formulated explicative from my running, and if I can even find a bike, which will have to be for free, I will keep you posted on that also.
Broke Back Dad
And I do mean "Broke" "Back" "Dad" , for every one of those words describes me perfectly.
Now to go out and buy a Life Jacket so I can at least float when I get tired!






 

Hello I would like to intraduce my self.

Introducing the Broke Back Dad

Native Plymoutheon, Paul Gaipo is the 53 year old father of three wonderful children sent to him on the wings of angels.

"Having weathered the torments of many a thunderstorm, I am humbled by the subtle whispers of the morning sun kissing my awakening cheek like the grandiose majesty of the magnificent willow tree. Strong, powerful and 'on purpose', my strength lies in the ability to move to the side, letting all negative energy pass"







 
I made it up this moutain how hard could a Triathlon be?

 

Paul is returning to Plymouth, MA on September 4, 2013 to compete in his first triathlon, The Mayflower Sprint Triathlon. It also happens to be his 54th birthday. Paul resides in New York City and is employed as a personal trainer at the Harvard Club in Manhattan as well as providing rehabilitation services to the elderly. This triathlon debut is meant to focus on the plight of single parents struggling to maintain funds to see their children.