Going the Distance

Local mega-athletes promote endurance sport as
the path to fitness, health, inner peace and fun
—and insist you can do it, too.

Story and photos by Donna Clayton Lawder

"Swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, run 26.2 miles; brag for the rest of your life." Those were the words John Collins scrawled on the last of three pages of the instructions he gave to the handful of competitors in a new endurance race he'd dreamed up. A triathlon competitor himself, Collins hoped to resolve an ongoing friendly debate over whether swimmers, runners or cyclists were the best athletes. The challenge was given in 1978 on the Hawaiian island of Oahu, when three existing races—the Waikiki Roughwater Swim, the Around-Oahu Bike Race and the Honolulu Marathon—were rolled into one mega-contest.

Cindy Neely in action.

"Whoever finishes first," Collins is reported to have said, "we'll call him the Ironman!"

Each leg of the competition was formidable in its own right, the bike race alone normally being a two-day competition. Of the 15 men (including Collins) who took part in the inaugural Ironman triathlon, 12 managed to jog, walk or stagger across the finish line.

The winner's trophy—a human figure with a hole in its head, designed and welded by Collins himself—told the tale and then some. Such was the perception of the first Ironmen: fitness fanatics who must have a. . . well, you know.

Without any additional marketing, the following year's Ironman triathlon had some 50 entrants. The popularity of the sport has grown steadily ever since, along with that of other mega-competitions like standard triathlons, duathlons, marathons and more.

While Southwest New Mexico may lack the black-sand beaches and breathtaking ocean views of Hawaii, Silver City—with its "four gentle seasons," moderately high altitude and variety of terrain—is a natural and favored training ground for athletes of all stripes. Bike racers, like the TIAA-CREF men's professional cycling team, for example, kick off their training year in this mountain town. (See "Heaven on Wheels" in the April 2006 Desert Exposure.)

So, not surprisingly, Silver City counts several endurance-race competitors among its residents: among them a couple of triathletes, a record-holding runner and even an Ironman—OK, an Ironwoman, as it turns out.

Cindy Neely, a registered nurse and triathlon competitor, is described by one of her friends and fellow athletes as "a woman in perpetual motion." But Neely is standing still at the moment, eyeing the baked-goods case at the counter of a local coffeehouse. Though she can consume in the neighborhood of 4,000 calories a day when she's in heavy training and still maintain her slender 120-pound frame, she passes on the muffins and brownies today and picks up only her drink.

"Truth is, I don't eat out much," she says. "If I do, I wind up eating the wrong things." Even during training, when she's burning calories like a fiend, she says she avoids alcohol and skips dessert. "Being an RN, I've always been concerned about nutrition," she says.

When she's in training, Neely's attention to her diet gets downright scientific, focusing on proteins and carbohydrates, hydration levels and electrolyte drinks. Her "winning breakfast," the one she says she always makes herself and has before competitions, consists of a couple of boiled eggs, yogurt and granola, some peanut butter and coffee—always coffee. "I just love coffee," she says, sitting back and taking a big sip from her oversized cup. Being allergic to bananas forces her to forgo that potassium-rich favorite of many an athlete.

Neely is starting her fourth season as a triathlon competitor, having competed in "sprint" and "Olympic" length triathlons, as well as the XTerra (see box). Athletic since childhood, Neely says she "kind of fell into" competing in triathlons—if you can imagine falling into a competition that requires months of training and conditioning, as well as grueling hours to complete.

Diagnosed with asthma at the age of 10, Neely says her doctor prescribed swimming. Though she was "never a star," she got into the sport, and it improved her strength and breathing ability. "And I always rode my bike as a kid," she says. "I did exercise, sports, because I loved it."

She worked hard to keep up with her older brother, just 11 months her senior, competing for parental attention as siblings do. And though girls were not allowed in those days to play on formal teams, Neely enjoyed playing neighborhood baseball and ice hockey.

As a young adult, she began running to keep her weight down and discovered a new source of endorphin-induced nirvana. "I loved that I could go running here, right out my back door. It was stress relief for me," she says.

Then came Tim Matthes, a triathlon competitor and Silver City resident often seen biking around town. "I kept running into Tim Matthes at the pools. I'd see him on the running trails," Neely recalls. "He'd tell me that if I could also bike, there was no reason I couldn't compete in a triathlon. He kept bringing it up. He encouraged me to just try it."

Neely borrowed Matthes' mountain bike, not only to work out, but to enter the Milkman Triathlon in Dexter, NM, in 2003.

"There I was, on a bike that didn't really fit me and scared as hell!" she recalls, laughing. She took fourth in her age group. Not only was she now convinced she could compete—she was hooked. She went out and bought herself a new bike and dove headfirst into competing in triathlons. She's since won the Milkman, a sprint distance triathlon that's considered "the jewel in the crown" of the 27-race Southwest Challenge Series.

Neely competed in six triathlons in 2005, winning six in a row. She went into one—the Wind Triathlon, a sprint distance race—"with the attitude that 'I'm just going to have fun,'" she recalls. "And I won!"

She competed and won in four more races in 2006, two of them back-to-back. Mostly competing in "sprint" distance competitions, Neely challenged herself last summer with a more grueling Olympic Distance triathlon. She placed first in her age group, 40-49, the group with the largest number of competitors. Asked why that age group is largest among women competitors, she replies, "I think it's our phase of life. You have the time, or are making the time for yourself. It's statistically a large group of people, with 'baby boomers' at the high end of the range, and women of this age are finally ready to focus on themselves."

She recounts some of her funnier and more powerful race moments, such as competing in the XTerra triathlon on Maui, where the running course went up a volcano, then down the other side onto a black sand beach. Then there was the moment of trust and faith when, biking over a difficult course, she closed her eyes and said, "OK, bike, get me through this." And a race in Socorro where she took second place one year, then came back the following year to win. "I kicked butt!" she adds with a delighted smile.

While winning races "is a definite upper," she says, it's not all about the winning. The training itself has its own rewards and is a pleasure in the moment. "My training has evolved into a spiritual practice for me," she explains. "It's how I nurture my emotions, and my mental and physical being."

Neely is self-coached and trains alone, well, except when she runs and brings her dog along. "We're really blessed to have two good pools here," she says of the swimming component of her training. Running and biking at moderately high altitude is another bonus, adding to local athletes' edge when it comes time for competition.

To Neely, the three aspects of triathlon training each have their own benefits, physically and in other ways. Training allows her to "go places" in her thoughts, sometimes as a way to get past pain, and other times simply because the activity itself takes her beyond her body and its physical limits.

"When I'm running, I pretend I'm a deer. It's just this magical space I can enter into," she says. "Swimming is like being in a womb. Water soothes me. It's just so wonderful to be in it." And biking? "That's when I play!" she says simply, breaking into a broad smile.

She pulls out a small notebook, her training log, in which she records her diet and activities. To ready herself for competition, she swims three times a week for an hour or so, runs varying distances three or four days a week and bikes twice a week for anywhere from one to three hours. Obviously, with only seven days in a week, many days have more than one activity recorded. And she takes one day a week "off" to rest. "I do ashtanga yoga that day, just to stretch and center myself," she says.

Neely recommends a triathlon-style training regimen as a great way to achieve fitness for just about anyone in decent health. If you're in more slothful shape, walking might be the place to start. And if you can walk, maybe you could work up to running. Already do a little swimming? Well, if you just added a bike. . . .

If you think it sounds like she's egging you on to become a triathlete, you'd be right. In fact, she says, Tim Matthes—that instigating friend who got her up and competing—is starting up a local club for triathletes.

"Sprint distances are easy," Neely insists. "And once you know you can do that, you can compete, and that's a real confidence builder. You just go from there."

Neely says her immediate athletic goals include working up to a half-marathon. She figures if she can do that, she can then compete in a Half Ironman competition, a triathlon that combines longer distances of the same three sports—swimming, cycling and running.

"Dorothy (Dare) is really inspiring me!" she says.

Dorothy Dare is a physician's assistant who works long shifts at Silver HealthCARE, and somehow manages to mega-train and compete in Ironman triathlons, which combine a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride and a 26.2-mile full marathon. Graciously fitting in a phone call during one of her 12-hour shifts at the Silver City medical facility, she describes how she juggles a demanding work schedule and hefty training regimen.

"Actually, it's a pretty good schedule for my training regimen," Dare says. "I work the three long days, but then, if you think about it, I have four free days to train."

Dare has competed in three Ironman triathlons—in Australia, Canada and Arizona. She describes the contest in Australia as "very special. The people are just so friendly," she says. "They line the roads and cheer you on. I was running along and these Aussie guys yelled out to me 'Good on ya, Dorothy Dare!' Oh, that was great! That's the sort of thing that keeps you going."

In January, she ran her first stand-alone marathon in Carlsbad, Calif. "That was my birthday present to myself," she says brightly. She finished fifth in her age group, 45-50, a field of 89 women.

Keeping going is key to Ironman competition, Dare says. Almost ridiculously humble about her achievements, and the dedication and sheer tenacity required to pull off such feats of endurance and athleticism, she gives credit to the competition itself. "You have to be really, really organized," she stresses. "You just have to be very deliberate about training. That's what Ironman is about: learning to organize your life!"

Having strong support from one's family is absolutely essential, Dare adds. The lifestyle of the mega-athlete involves not only commitment, but sacrifice. Giving up time with one's family, not being able to just eat what you want—costs small and large must be paid.

Ah, but finishing an Ironman competition is worth it, she insists. "The completion gives such an incredible sense of accomplishment. I wish I could bottle that. Not everyone can do an Ironman, but if you could give them a taste of that satisfaction, such accomplishment, well, it's a really powerful, positive thing."

She says being an Ironman is a big plus for her image in the health-care field, too. "I'm promoting good health, and the fact that I live this way and can do this validates me as an example of what I'm talking about," she says. "My motto is, 'Anything's possible if you really want it bad enough.'" She encourages everyone to get moving, an investment in health within anyone's reach.

"Well, when you start going to (faraway) places for competitions and all, that gets expensive," Dare allows. "But it doesn't cost anything to go for a walk or to go for a run. To get your bike set up, that's minimal expense. Absolutely anyone can do this and be healthier."

Dare began competing in triathlons in 1998. What got her started? Believe it or not, Tim Matthes.

"That man's a true instigator!" Dare says, chuckling. "It's true. He pushed me over the edge. It's what he does!"

She laughs heartily, then adds, "He's such a good influence."

On a balmy winter's day, bathed in sunlight streaming in through a window, "the instigator" himself is sitting on a couch in his living room, fired up to talk about his love of sport and endurance competition. With his lean, fit frame and clear eyes, Matthes seems to eat, breathe and sleep triathlons—well, maybe the several bikes he keeps in his bedroom add to that impression.

"My motto is that anything worth doing is worth overdoing!" Matthes says with a laugh.

Having been a runner years ago, but sidelined by an injury, Matthes threw himself into race-walking competitions for a while. "Then this guy in Las Cruces energized me and I found I could run again. It's been 20 years now," he says of his reentry into the runner's life.

And if you can run. . . . Well, it wasn't long before Matthes was competing in triathlons.

Echoing triathlete Cindy Neely's sentiments—or maybe it's she who's echoing him, it gets hard to tell with this community of athletic friends—Matthes insists that endurance sport competition is within the grasp of just about anyone.

"Oh, absolutely! Sprint level? Anybody can do it! Training-wise, all you have to do is work up to an hour, three to four times a week, and you can do the sprint distance," he says. "It's wonderful for general health, and it's a way to stay injury-free. It keeps you in great shape, so everything—the whole body—just works better."

As an example himself, Matthes—a gentleman with, shall we say, "snow on the roof"—boasts a resting pulse of 55 beats per minute.

And the benefits of endurance sport, he agrees, go way beyond the physical. "It's my way of coping with life, a healthy outlet for my addictive personality," he says, laughing. Not at all shy about sharing his recovery from alcohol addiction, Matthes says his involvement with endurance sports has also helped him deal with and avoid depression. "This is a passion, a healthy one," he says. And having such passion in his life helps him "avoid the low spots," he says.

Matthes describes his approach to training as "the social recreational style," meaning that one big motivation to get out on the trails and up on his wheels is to have fun with others and build his social network. He's got four bikes—and an impressive amount of machinery and spare parts in his sunporch/workshop—and rides one or two of them around town most days, then goes out with the Silver Spokes Bike Club on Saturdays for fun and to enjoy camaraderie on longer rides.

Though he's done the Citizen's Race portion of Silver City's annual Tour of the Gila bike race, he says he prefers "not to make a fool of myself in my own home town." He laughs. "I prefer to go away to do it."

Matthes says he's excited to be starting up a local club for endurance athletes, dubbed the Quick Silver Club, and that about a dozen people have already expressed interest in the group. In addition to camaraderie, the club will provide training tips and clinics and host special guest speakers—a sort of how-to support group for endurance athletes.

People shouldn't shy away from triathlons because they are weaker in one sport, Matthes says. Competing in three different sports balances that out. He admits he finds the changing between sports in a triathlon to be challenging, and has even had anxiety attacks over swimming in a wetsuit, which is sometimes necessary when the swimming portion of a race is in a lake, rather than a lap pool. "It's rather common," he says, "because you just don't do it very often, so it feels strange when you have to." He plans to go out and practice in his wetsuit a couple of times before his next race where a wetsuit will be required.

Matthes competes six to eight times per year. "There aren't a lot of guys in my age group," he says, so he is often in the top three for his age and at the bottom of the top third overall. Among men, 35-45 is the largest age group. His "snow on the roof" indicates he's in the "over 50" tier of competitors.

But while those younger dudes may have an edge, in general, on speed—"don't count out the old guys," Matthes says. Many senior athletes have a definite edge on endurance. And some of them can just plain hustle, too.

"You've got to talk to Bob Leonard," Matthes offers as a case in point. "The guy's in his 60s and a nationally top-ranked runner."

Bob Leonard turns out to be a friendly, laid-back guy with a soft drawl from growing up in the mountains of North Carolina. And while he spends a part of nearly every day running, and competes in 5- and 10k races every month, he got into running almost by accident, it seems.

"Way back when," the 63-year-old begins, he was competing on his high school archery team. He mentioned to another athlete that his legs were always getting tired, and his buddy suggested he try to build up by running.

Leonard hit the track and never looked back, dropping his bow and running one- and two-mile races all through high school and college. As an adult, he began running in 5- and 10k community races. He managed to put up some impressive numbers, too, setting the record for the 1,500-meter and 800-meter competitions at the Master Championship in Bozeman, Mont., when he was in his 40s. "I'm pretty sure that record still stands," he says.

But while you'd be likely to see his running shorts ahead of you in a race, it's less likely you'll see his name in Running Times magazine.

"Oh, you know," he drawls, "you've got to get the race directors to send in your times and all that. I compare myself to the others at the finish line. I just get the magazine and compare myself" to other runners' results, he says. Focusing on the results of recent 5k races, for example, Leonard says the runner ranked number one in his age group turned in a time of 17 minutes, 50 seconds.

Leonard's official time was 17 minutes, 26. "So that felt pretty good. It's satisfying."

His approach to nutrition, he says, is a matter of common sense and intuition. "Of course, lots of vegetables and fruits. They're good for you. Everybody knows that. And I like rice, couscous. Oh, and I love angel hair pasta!" He seems to eat more fish than beef, and rattles off a few favorite seafoods.

Forget about junk food, though. "If I eat something I shouldn't, my body tells me right quick," he quips.

And for training, well, he's in the Nike camp: Just do it.

"I just get out there and run," he says, putting on at least eight to 10 miles per day. Every day. "I'm working on speed lately. You know, faster is easier on the body. When you jog, you're really pounding on a surface. That takes a toll."

Leonard says he loves Silver City for training, the mild weather being a big plus. That Carolina-boy twang coming out again, he adds that the 6,000-foot altitude "doesn't bother me none. In Colorado, I used to do the 14-ers." The 14,000-foot peaks are a popular and scenic proving ground for athletes looking to build endurance.

When he was younger, Leonard says, he "used to compete about every two weeks." Now, at 63, he keeps a pace of about one race a month—more time spent in the sheer enjoyment of everyday running, less time spent traveling to starting gates.

Like Matthes, Leonard says a big motivation to compete in endurance sports is the camaraderie. He mentions a long-time friend he enjoys coming across at races, especially since the two have a friendly rivalry that spans years.

"Oh, and it keeps you youthful. It keeps you healthy," he adds. "It's just great for the body." But while he likes to come across his buddies, and talks about the sheer love of running, it quickly becomes clear that Leonard also just loves to win.

He talks animatedly about "psyching out" other runners by keeping pace with them through the competition, then passing them at the finish line.

"I like to keep up with the guys," he says. "You know, I compare my times to theirs. It's a real kick to be beating these guys in their 50s or 40s, heck, sometimes in their 30s! Now that feels good!"

For more information on the developing Quick Silver Club for current or aspiring endurance athletes, contact Tim Matthes, 534-0840, writertim@zianet.com.

 

Donna Clayton Lawder is senior editor of Desert Exposure, and admits she was inspired to get her bike tuned up this month.

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