Flustered, to say the least

Hey everyone, it's been a while since I posted. I originally intended to post several times a week, but I found myself without anything really different or interesting to say, other than, I won the duathlon again (twice actually).
A few weeks ago I got a call from Froedtert Hospital in Milwaukee telling me that they wanted to interview me for a job but they wouldn't be able to wait for September for me to move. I told them that I would be willing to come out earlier, and I scheduled an interview for the next Thursday. I travelled down to Jersey, and stayed with Sarah for a few days in Delaware, then headed back to Jersey. I took a CPR renewal class and the next day my brother Jamie and I got up at 5am and droved 860 something miles, almost a third of the way across the country, to Milwaukee so that I could get an interview. We checked out some pretty sweet apartments while we were there, and the interview went smoothly. I have Jamie to thank for that mostly (thanks Jamie!!) who helped me put together my resume and even put it on the special resume paper.
We then turned back and headed 860 miles back to New Jersey. We got home at roughly 5am. So all told we drove a third of the way across the country and back in 2 whole days. Not bad if you ask me.
But here I am sitting in my apartment waiting for them to tell me one way or another if I got the job. Today is the last day that I can wait, because I have to send my rent check to my landlord, or give them 30 days notice that I will be moving out, which I informed them of at the time of the interview. After telling them that I am willing to drop everything and relocate, I figured that they'd be ecstatic to have me.
Tonight I will post a much shorter message telling whether I got the job or not.

High Peaks Cyclery Duathlon Series

So guess who won the first race for the High Peaks Cyclery Duathlon Series. If you guessed me, then you are totally right! Check out that crazy new aero helmet by Louis Garneau! That's just one of the fancy new things that we got from Louis Garneau at www.dimonsports.com including tri-shorts, all sorts of cycling jackets and vests. We are hoping to be getting in the new short track and long track skinsuits before camps start, so CLUBS, get your orders in early.

Anyways, the course was a bit off on the first mile. The turn around was at about 0.465 of a mile so the first mile was really about .93 miles. Imagine my surprise when the time keeper (sitting there in a fold up lawn chair with his post race Bud Lite in the can holder) yells out 4:55 when I come into the transition area. And by the way, that's one thing I need to work on. Transitions. I went in in first, and came out in second, and spent the next 4 miles on the bike trying to catch up.

When we made the turnaround for the bike at 4 miles, I was able to catch the first place guy and drafted him a little bit (side note: apparently this is not quite "legal," so all you pack style marathoners, remember this). After apparently cheating for like a mile and a half, I dropped back a few meters, and then turned on the afterburners. I was doing a little over 25mph when I passed him, and opened up a gap when I hit 30mph in the open stretch. I ended up about 100 meters ahead going into the final transition.

So, once again, I got into the transition first, and then got out in second. About 100 meters down the road, I ran into the leader, asked him how he was feeling, as he replied "eh, tired!" I replied, "I couldn't imagine why!" I then gapped him again taking the lead, but then it started to hurt. A side stitch opened up on my right side, sucking the wind out of me. I trudged on, trying to control my breathing, but it hurt so much. I knew that my legs still had some running left in them, and by the time that I made the turn around at the mile mark, I had opened a good gap of about 60 meters. I just kept on trucking, the unleashed animal inside of me never letting me falter.

When I hit the half mile left mark, I was hitting the end of my reserves, and I knew that the rest of the race was going to be pure guts. I still had a sizeable lead, but the way that I was running, I knew that it wouldn't last long. I dug down and remembered what my high school coach had taught me, to never give up, and when you don't think you can make it, just run harder. When the house that was next to the finish line came into view, and I knew I only had to make it another 200 meters, I knew that I was in good shape, but I wanted to break the 40 minute mark. I put everything I had into sprinting, but I only made it about 20 meters before I hit the edge of the anaerobic threshold, and knew that I needed to just finish the race in a good pace. I saw the line and just put everything I had, I knew the race was won. I crossed the line in 40:04, just barely missing the mark that I had wanted.

I had won, in my very first duathlon ever, so I did what every victorious person does. I fell to the ground in a collapsed heap. I raised an eyebrow when the second place person came in, and gave him a high five and a congratulatory "huuuuuugoojob ::pant, wheeze::"

On the even brighter side, they had a raffle and I won a free pizza at Mr. Mikes!!!! This way I can take my lovely girlfriend Sarah out to dinner on Saturday night even though I am as broke as the Liberty Bell.

Ok kids, stay tuned, same place, completely different time.