“You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” – Marcus Aurelius

The Escape From Alcatraz Race is only 16 days away – two weeks from Sunday. My training has been sporadic, as the semester has once again proven to be busier than I could keep up with. I’m not complaining, but I have a full teaching and advising load, more than most professors I know. I teach three classes each semester with over 100 combined students. I am the faculty advisor for four student groups: the prelaw club, the student government judicial council, the running club, and my old fraternity. I’m also the internship coordinator for my department and the campus prelaw advisor. And then my book. It just came out in the last few days, and that is a constant source of upkeep, whether it was the editing process, or now doing the work of promoting it. But hey, the semester ended I have finally have some time to train, right? Only I just got this email from the Laramie Rec Center, closing the pool where I train for most of the rest of the summer:

On top of the pool closure, I’ve also been dealing with return of the bone spur pain in my right calf. I had written about this injury last year, and I had always thought it was related to my weight, a view that my doctor endorsed. The pain only occurs when I’m running, and even then, usually only when I am over my ideal weight, above 165 lbs. Well, I have been staying fairly fit this past semester and keeping my weight around 160, so the recurrence of the bone spur pain is a little concerning. In fact, this was my weight after a workout earlier in the week:

Even at this lighter weight, the pain in my calf is back. It’s been manageable, but I have switched my runs to the treadmill in the last week to minimize the pain. The treadmill is much less impact on the legs, and I can luckily run more or less pain free on the hamster wheel right now. I’ll now update you on what my training has been like and what I hope to do in the last couple of weeks: 

First, let me quickly go over the race distances for Escape from Alcatraz: 1) 1500-meter swim, 2) 17-mile bike, 3) eight-mile run.

In the swim, I have been rotating between three workouts. One is a heavy leg day, where I primarily do a lot of flutter kick with the board, in two sets of 100 free, 200 pull, 400 kick, and 200 drill. Another workout is upper body focused: I do a mix of warm up stuff (swim, pull, kick, drill) for 500, then 16 x 100 pull on the 2 min., and another 200 cool down of kick board and drills. And then one day I do a continuous 2000 where I try to build speed during the swim. 

For the bike, I haven’t been doing as much. I have one “go to” workout a week, in the basement, on the trainer. It’s a hard spin session, and I feel strong and confident on the bike since the race distance is only 17 miles. I really crush the bike workout in the basement, but it’s not the hilly streets of San Francisco. However, I need to and will get out and do some hill work and actually get my race bike out of the garage. That will be my focus over the next week – doing some hill repeats out in Rogers Canyon. 

With the run, I rotate four workouts. One run is a tempo run, where I run at race pace for about 45 minutes (7:30 miles maybe), after a 15 min. warmup. I had been doing a track workout: 800s at 5k pace with an easy 400 rest in-between. I would run those 800s between 3:10 and 3:20. I also do a long, easy run, with my last one being an 8.5 miler down in New Orleans. And then after each of those workouts, before running hard or long again, I would do a four-mile, easy recovery run. On a good week, I might run 25 miles total. Some weeks more like 10. 

Today is the last day I can swim at the Laramie Rec Center pool. I’m not sure where I’ll swim after that. The options in Laramie are limited, especially since the University is building a brand-new aquatic center. It’s not quite open and I don’t think there are currently any other pools open on campus- the old ones have been converted to other uses. The high school pool might be an option. The best bet may be to pull on the wetsuit and head to one of the local reservoirs and do open water swims. 

All in all, I’m fairly satisfied with my training. I know that I have the fitness to easily cover the race distances. How quickly I can do that remains to be seen. This will be one of the largest race fields for a triathlon that I’ve ever entered, including the two Ironmans I raced. There are over 2000 competitors expected from all 50 states and over 60 countries. I’m not going to be on the podium for my age group in this race, not like the races down in Colorado. But that’s okay, I’m not doing the race to finish ahead of anyone. I’m only competing with myself. 

This year’s lead-up to Alcatraz feels different from any other race I’ve prepped for. In the past, I’ve always managed to carve out enough time for a consistent block of training, no matter how busy I got. But this spring, with the weight of academic, advising, and book obligations, I’ve been forced to accept a new kind of flexibility—and, frankly, humility—in how I approach the sport. Gone are the days when I could stick to a 12-week training plan without missing a beat. Now, workouts happen when they can, sometimes early in the morning before classes, sometimes late in the evening after grading papers or finishing a Zoom call with a student. I’m learning to let go of perfection and focus on the work I can actually do.

That shift in mindset has been both a challenge and a blessing. There’s a certain freedom that comes with lowering the bar from “ideal” to “possible.” In dealing with the pool closure or my calf acting up, I try to remember why I do this at all. It isn’t just about race day or chasing some personal record. It’s about the daily act of showing up, of moving my body, of remembering what it feels like to be strong and alive. I’ve come to respect that all of it counts.

I also find myself reflecting more on the privilege of even being able to train and race. Not everyone gets the chance to swim in open water, bike through canyons or the streets of San Franciso, or race with athletes from around the world. As I struggle with pool closures and minor injuries, I remind myself that these are problems of abundance—and that doing this sport, even imperfectly, is a gift. It’s a reminder to be grateful for the community around me: the friends who text encouragement, the students who ask about my races, the family members who put up with my early mornings and post-workout hunger. Their support keeps me going.

Looking ahead to the next two weeks, my focus is on sharpening the edges I can control. I’ll get creative with swim training—maybe catch a swim in Cheyenne or Fort Collins, or brave a wetsuit swim in one of the local reservoirs if the weather cooperates. For the bike, I’ll keep stacking up time on the trainer, but I’m determined to get outside for at least a couple of hilly rides to prep for the San Francisco course. The run will be about listening to my body—keeping up the tempo work, but not pushing through pain that could sideline me on race day.

Mentally, I’m working on embracing the unpredictability of it all. The Escape from Alcatraz is legendary for a reason—it’s wild, it’s unpredictable, and there’s always a curveball. The best athletes are the ones who can adapt, who can keep moving forward even when the plan goes sideways. That’s my goal: to be adaptable, to find joy in the process, and to be present for every crazy, challenging, exhilarating moment. 

In the end, I’ll be grateful to leap off that ferry and swim for shore, knowing how much it took just to get there. That, I think, is the real escape: not from Alcatraz, but from the illusion that everything has to work out perfectly to be worthwhile. Here’s to the next sixteen days—let’s see what they bring. Peace and Powder River.