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Race Report: IM 70.3 Chattanooga

2021.05.25 05:29 minichado Race Report: IM 70.3 Chattanooga

Race information

Goals

Goal Description Completed?
Swim ??? Yes?!?
Bike 3:15 Yes
Run 2:10-2:20 No
Total <7:00 No
Sretch goal <6:30 No

Training

Long story short, I was ready last year when the race got cancelled. Fast forward to july 2020, I've moved to WFH but ended up with an indoor trainer. so my winter became cycling heavy. I stopped swimming probably late july/aug and only started back swimming in the pool at the end of april. 5 weeks pre race. and it was already my worst of the 3 disciplines. def was worried there. Got a few last minute open water swims in the weekend before the race, and then 3 days before the race. the first one went really really badly with my wetsuit choking me and all sorts of fitment issues (20 minutes to go 500yd instead of 10-12). So I forced myself to do another swim a few days later, but this time everything went off without a hitch.
As for running, I've been running for several years now and basically knew that running without getting the volume ramped up right was going to screw up my knee (I've got one that flares up). Before july 2020 I was casually keeping 8-12 or maybe 15 miles a week run volume. over the winter I let it drop to maybe a 5k a week, or nothing, while I was cycling 30-50 miles a week. so again, in the 5 weeks before the race, I methodically upped my volume a few miles at a time. 2 weeks prior to the race, on an 8 mile run, I got a knot in my right calf that took me an entire week of nursing and foam rolling to get rid of. but otherwise I was confident I could finish the run. I had been running 9:30-10:30 pace through all the training and the goal was to stay closer to 10:30 on race day.

Pre-race

Evening before I ate as much food as possible. wasn't feeling pasta so it was lots of potato wedges and chicken quesadillas. I was drinking nuun all afternoon also to get some sodium packed in. it was supposed to be a high of 90F day of the race.
Morning of the race, basically just.. coffee, breakfast, evacuation, coffee, evacuation.. walked to transition, setup my spot, pumped up the tires, and.. chilled out. like for real. I was zen. I did not get race day jitters. I did not get nervous. hell the entire walk to the swim start i was basically asleep. when we got there (after a 30 minute walk) we still waited over an hour before we got into the water. maybe got to the start at 6:30, first in the water 6:50, and I got in the water 7:53.
even up until I toed into the water, my HR didn't jump up. I figured if the water was cold it would wake me up, but I wasn't really worried so about it so I just.. stayed chill.

Race - 7:04:40

Swim - 51:56 2:04/100yd

So because of covid, there was no shuttle to the swim start. In years past the swim course started across the river, swim a few hundred yards upstream, then turn and swim downstream. this year the race was 100% downstream, but the distance was increased from 1.2 to 1.4 miles.. but we also had the current the whole way, and started on the same side of the shore. but this meant we had to walk 1.5 miles from transition to the swim start before the race with our wetsuits. So basically my goal for the swim wasn't time based. goals were
and for the most part, that's exactly what I did. I just kept sighting to the next bouy, then the next. I had looked ahead of time and noted the island was roughly 1000 yards, first to secon bridge was ~600, second to third was ~200. so I knew 'once I get to x, I have y minutes to the next thing'. but I didn't stop to look at my watch a single time during the swim. It didn't matter how long or how far I had gone. I knew I was moving, and I would make the time cutoff. I did have 2 short breaks but they were not really planned. The first was when 3 police boats went full tilt right by the course, and suddenly I was in some huge swells and waves. I assumed there was some sort of medical emergency but later found out some person had literally jumped off one of the bridges and nearly hit some swimmers. apparently they plucked him out of the water and took him to a hospital or arrested the guy. The second stop was when I went under the foot bridge (the second of the 3 bridges) and I just.. floated on my back and stared up at it and soaked it in. Never in my life had I imagined I'd be in such a position, upside down, in a river, under one of the most awesome bridges in an awesome town. I just laughed, and then rolled over and carried it to the finish. About a hundred yards out, like I do in every pool swim, I picked up the pace a touch. Got out of the water and saw my watch say 51.xx, though "sweet, not too fast, not too slow", and then started running. I typically do 45min for 1.2 mile swim so it was just fine. Before crossing the chip timer I heard my kids and wife screaming for me, turned and ran to them and gave them high fives and a kiss, then ran to T1.

T1 - 7:31

Like the plan, got the wetsuit off my torso while running. metal ramp was steep up a hillside, then the road was steeper, but I made it to my bike eventually. probably 3-4 minutes of just running. Everything was laid out well, and I took my time getting the wetsuit off the legs. socks on, shoes on, helmet on, glasses on. 2 cliff bars in my back pockets. bike computer on. 3 gels and 2.25 liters of 320 maurtens were already on the bike. I went ahead and smashed one of the 3 gus (salted caramel), specifically because it had 125mg of sodium. I wanted to have as much salt early in the race to be ready for the hot afternoon. On the run out to the mount line I saw the family again, made my kid laugh acting like I was lost, and then hopped on the bike.

Bike - 3:14:30 17.55mph avg

My goal for the bike was 17mph/3:15 split. This was nowhere near my ability, but I thought it was the easiest target to keep the power down and keep the legs fresh for the run. and I knew from my first 70.3 how going to hard on the bike could really break me on the run. so I knew it was a solid plan.
The course profile for this race is rolling hills and net elevation gain the first 26 miles, then a short steep climb, then net elevation loss the last 30 miles. I imagined taking it easy the first 26 miles, smashing the climb, then picking up the pace on the back half of the course. but the wind was on my tail on the way out, and I was holding a much higher avg speed than I expected. My goal was more or less 17mph, and by the steep climb I was at 18.4 avg. sweet, I thought, I'm going to go way faster than my goal. but then I hit the headwind on the way back and was like 'oh.. right'. Avg speed slowly went down but I did not let this bother me. I told myself repeatedly that I had already bagged some extra time, and if I dropped back down to the plan then.. well.. I was still on plan!! and I kept rolling past rest area 1 and 2 at miles 15 and 30. I still had fluids and supplies.
bar at 30 minutes, gu no 2 at 60, gu no 3 at 2 hours, and second cliff at 2:30. Second cliff was right after the 45 mile rest stop. I was almost out at this stop and contemplated trashing an empty bottle and throwing a full water in the back holder, but instead I just topped off the front hydration with a speed fill, took a sip, and then.. chunked the water. I think I only netted about 12 oz from the 16oz bottle. So as Im washing down that cliff bar, I run out of liquids completely. with 6 miles to go.
'eh, it's only what, 6 miles, I'll be fine, whats another 20 minutes"
oh.. well that next 20 minutes was leaving the nice, shady back lanes of georgia and entering the concrete jungle of chattanooga again.. at damn near high noon. the temp spiked (according to my wahoo) 15 deg ambient just in that last 20 minutes!! I went from feeling awesome to sudden sweltering and, not quite woozy but hot and desperately thirsty. I was still sitting at 17mph+ avg speed so I just took it as easy as I could and tried not to lose focus on the road which was super dicy concrete with large potholes and cracks and whatnot. Made it safely to the dismount line.
oh, oh oh what a dismount!! I've been practicing this one!! flying dismount! get both feet out of the shoes, stand on the shoes, then swing the right leg over the bike, and step behind my left foot and just get running and don't stop. I was coming up behind a pile of folks stopping dead on the line and almost couldn't find a gap but one just barely openned up. yes, my time to shine!! I snuck right between them and left them in the dust hahahah!!! go me!!! and I get to hobbling alond with the bike and hear one of my bike shoes dragging.. not just clipping the ground, but dragging. and look down to see I only actually have one shoe attached to the bike!!! I look up and there's a shoe 50 yards back at the dismount line... I made the physcal equivalent of 'oh shit' and thankfully I got a volunteers attention and he threw the shoe in my direction.
I tried reattaching it to the pedal with my hands but had no luck. I then decided to remove the second shoe (to keep it from dragging) and in the process dropped my bike. So after quite the kerfluffle, I manage to get my shoes in one hand and my bike in the other, and start running down the chute, just before my wife gets video of me looking like I totally know what I'm doing :D :D :D
In all of this mess I did notice that I did a 3:14 on the bike computer. so far, still on the planned pace.

T2 - 6:11

I tried to run all the way to my bike, but literally everyone was walking and blocking all the way. I decided it wasn't worth shooing folks or asking them to move, so begrudgingly I slowed to their snails pace until they cleared out of my way for the eh, what felt like tenth of a mile walk to my spot. racked the bike, drank some water I had sitting there (thank goodness!!), changed shoes, run belt on, hat on, run hydration stowed and ready to go. I had 2 gels on the run belt and an extra in the run bottle just in case I needed more. Saw an open portaloo and stopped of a quick pee, and also stopped to apply sunscreen at the station on shoulders just before leaving transition.

Run - 2:44:35 12:34/min mile

literally before .2 miles I knew something was off. I had gotten a bit hotter than i realized in that last 20 minutes on the bike. my legs felt fine but my... everything.. just felt off. I found myself walking while I was still in the shade of some trees and an overpass just to get myself feeling ok. And also at this point my stomach was fighting with me heavily. My run hydration had another 320 maurtens in water but by this point I didn't want to add any more sugar to the rumbling tummy. and this is minutes after high noon when I started the run.
The first 4 miles were fully exposed on the highway, with no shade, and a few very light rolling hils up and over a few overpasses. I had to walk up every hill. every aid station I drank water, ice in hat, ice in front and back of my jersey. and I started diluting my run bottle with water and topping it off at every station as well. I did this through at least the first 3 or 4 aid stations. 3 miles took me almost 40 minutes. I'm used to a 25-30 minutes 5k so I knew 2:20 was completely out the window.
I instead decided to completely ignore that and make some quick decisions. new goals!! what's your HR? oh it's 140s? freaking zone 2? I love you!! I decided to fall back on some long run tactics and just meter my HR. if I saw it hit 150 or 152, I'd dial back and walk for a bit. More water. more ice. more walking. all the way to the first bridge crossing. the first bridge was at 5.5. Decided I had to get across that exposed hot ass section as fast as possible and ran the half mile all the way across that damn thing. and found a lick of shade on the other side (with a small downhill too).
At this point My stomach had stopped hurting. I realized I had my HR under control. I also told myself I have GOT to stuff some sodium and electrolytes in me. stuffed a coffee gu that had some caffiene, and then forced myself to grab some salty chips at the next few aid stations.
As I turned to cross the blue footbridge a half mile later at 6.6, I did a bit of run walking across it. but I felt good. wait, I felt really good? I knew I was about to start the second loop. now I knew what I was getting into because I had just done it. oh crap, I knew I had to do that long hot exposed part again. but I knew the best way to get past it.. was to run. so to this point I had been half run half walking and averaging closer to 12:30-12:45/mile. when I hit the exposed pavement again like.. one cloud apeared in the sky. one giant, glorious cloud. In that moment of shade I found a second wind. and I ran two 11:30 miles at miles 8 and 9, only stopping to ice up at the aid station, and got across all that exposed crap and then, then? I felt like a million bucks. I was back in the shade of the boardwalk. I started looking at hills and running up the hills, not falling back and walking. I ran across that first bridge. I ran across that second blue bridge. I still dodged into every little bit of shade I could find along the edges of the course, but I totally kicked it up. mile 12 and 13 I was very happy to hold 11:47 and 11:30 miles and then it was literally all downhill to the finish line. got a good looking stride, felt strong, did 9:30 pace all the way down the finish shoot and just.. fucking did it.

Post-race

My brother was still on the course and had DNF'd because of bike+swim time (by 6 minutes). He was suffering hard on the run doing 15-16 minute miles, and was looking like he wouldn't finish before 5pm. I found the race director and he said 'sure he's technically DNF but if he crosses the finish line before it closes he can get his finisher swag'. About an hour after the race I'm still watching the tracker and waiting, he's another hour out, and I'm starting to get a mild headache. smash food and water, food and water, electrolytes electrolytes!!. 5pm comes and goes, and his tracker is updaing but his pace has been dropping off. at like 5:06 i see that he's hit the 12.7 mile marker. I literally dropped everything, and sprinted up the fucking course. like, 7-8min mile pace sprint. and I found him, and yelled, and walked/ran by him all the way to the line. took him 9:15 but he friggin crossed that line. and then I cursed him out for making me run another half mile after my race :D :D
historically I've injured my knee (after my first 70.3, after my first marathon), so I was super worried about that but honestly I had zero knee issues during or after this race. I drove 2 hours home after the race and after just the 2 hours in the car, my legs felt super fresh and I was back to being useful around the house. headache was now a mild dull so 9pm, I popped some advil and headed to bed. 1 day out (today), My quads are sore and one of my ankles are stiff and that's basically it. I've been foam rolling and it feels both amazing and horrible at the same time. But at this point, I feel like I can run today if I had to (don't worry though, I'm not in danger of doing that today). Wednesday. wednesday feels good. 3 days out. so that's the new plan. get the run volume back where it needs to be. OH, and some crazy high volume of OWS because I have escape form alcatraz in.. 3 months?!?!??!?
Also historically, I've set time targets and worked hard to get them. I wanted a sub 2 hour half marathon and eeked out a 1:57. i wanted a sub 10:00/mile marathon and eeked that out at 9:55/mile. and i won't talk about my first half IM but you can dig up the race report somewhere... it was another knee disaster. At this race, while I had a 'goal' of 7 hours, I wasn't hell bent on achieving it. For me, it was a realistic target knowing my ability. and for me, I think I nailed it. and I didn't get injured. so I am ooooover the moon excited. and this is for real the first time I've ever crossed the line and though 'I want to do this again' almost immediately.
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2020.05.10 09:17 mikerubini Settori in crescita e nuove opportunità (relative al COVID-19)

Settori in crescita e nuove opportunità (relative al COVID-19)
Ciao, sono il fondatore di una startup che si occupa di individuare e predirre trend guardando cosa cercano e comprano le persone in rete.
Poichè questo è un momento in cui, un pò tutti, ci dobbiamo reinventare, ho deciso di condividerne alcuni, non troppo ovvi (facile vendere mascherine!)

Trend relativi a casa e giardino

Le persone hanno molto più tempo libero e il settore del giardinaggio sta crescendo tantissimo.
https://preview.redd.it/31mxynbo1wx41.png?width=2394&format=png&auto=webp&s=7acd12b49afac2794bf78f5760f5776cde06bbc8

Trend relativi al mangiare

La gente in casa sta cucinando moltissimo, quindi sono aumentate tutte le ricerche per ricette varie, ma anche strumenti utili in cucina come macchina per fare il pane, planetaria, etc.
Molti, presi da un mood apocalittico, cercano anche di fare scorte di pasta e surgelati in caso i supermercati non riaprano per tanto tempo.
https://preview.redd.it/e0xxti5p1wx41.png?width=2412&format=png&auto=webp&s=538de39c498fa916128345a5f4d468c927d616ba
https://preview.redd.it/m8azztfq1wx41.png?width=1634&format=png&auto=webp&s=e3d87af0e5161341e277cca798d95a31046ff5ef

Trend relativi allo stare in forma

Le palestre sono chiuse quindi stanno prendendo piede tutte quelle forme di esercizio a corpo libero che si possono fare in casa, ma anche attrezzi come la cyclette.
https://preview.redd.it/66vmpqlr1wx41.png?width=1582&format=png&auto=webp&s=de1b9af6056f7623894773cd593180211623c700
https://preview.redd.it/5j45drks1wx41.png?width=2410&format=png&auto=webp&s=6459e44eb829454e5f13232fc7fb98a72ed8545d

Altri trends dal mercato US

Questi sono invece altri trend che sono permutati dagli Stati Uniti, di cui vi lascio più informazioni.
Micro ortaggi (microgreens)
Che sono?
I microgreens sono verdure vegetali raccolte subito dopo lo sviluppo delle foglie di cotiledone. Sono coltivati ​​o acquistati da persone focalizzate sulla nutrizione, oppure sono utilizzati sia come componente visiva che aromatica, principalmente nei ristoranti raffinati. (wikipedia)
Perché c'è il trend?
  1. Le persone stanno a casa in lock-down e hanno difficoltà a reperire alimenti a km-0, e magari pure sani che contribuiscano a rafforzare il loro sistema immunitario (le persone pensano tantissimo a non ammalarsi in questo momento).
  2. Farsi una piccola postazione di coltivazione in casa richiede poco effort. Attraverso l'analisi dei microdati abbiamo trovato una serie di conversazioni interessanti di persone che stanno perdendo il posto di lavoro a causa della crisi e stanno pensando di fare questo business vendendo i micro ortaggi direttamente a ristoranti e piccoli/mediT consumatori.
Cosa si può vendere?
Tutto ciò con cui si può fare un micro garden, quindi starting kit, ma anche semi (seeds). Price range da €5-10 per piccoli kit fino a €70-120 se hanno anche un piccolo sistema di irrigazione incorporato.

Trend relativo alla cura dei piedi.
Perché c'è il trend?
1 - La gente sta più a casa, e a casa cammina con le ciabatte o con scarpe senza calzini, quindi si formano i calli! L'estate contribuirà ancora di più a questo trend. Keywords come "callus remover for feet" sono in estrema crescita! (primo grafico sotto). Chiaramente è un prodotto che già si può vendere sono appunto i callus remover, ma anche creme e "foot masks" (anch'esse in estrema crescita).
2 - La gente sta andando molto di più a correre. Complice la bella stagione, ma anche il lockdown (a certa gente dici A, e farà sicuramente B). In particolare abbiamo notato che le donne stanno andando molto di più a correre, ed infatti "womens running shoes" (secondo grafico in allegato) sta avendo una impennata senza precedenti.
3 - La gente ha più tempo e ha più paura di prendere malattie, quindi si dedica alla cura personale. La cura dei piedi fa parte di questo trend. Da notare che il trend NON è limitato solo agli adulti, ma vale per tutti: per esempio anche "baby foot peeling mask" è in fortissima crescita!

Alcuni altri trend relativi alla salute
Mal di denti (toothache): le persone stanno a casa e hanno paura di ammalarsi quindi pensano (costantemente) a cosa potrebbero avere.
Mal di schiena (upper back pain): le persone stanno sedute più del solito. Tanti lavorano tante ore al pc in posizione scomode.
Affaticamento degli occhi (es di prodotto: blue light glasses): poiché le persone stanno tanto al computer, hanno problemi agli occhi.
Problemi di insonnia (sleep aid): l'ansia dovuta alla situazione incerta, ma anche il fatto che le persone stanno tanto al computer prima di andare a letto, portano le persone ad avere problemi di insonnia.
Telemedicina (telemedicine): abbiamo registrato un forte incremento nell'utilizzo di servizi di telemedicina, come per esempio Teladoc.

Spero che questo post vi abbia dato una idea di quello che è in tendenza oggi e di nuove opportunità che si possono cogliere.
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2019.11.20 04:54 -en- @BW: Nike’s Vaporfly running shoes helped break the two-hour marathon barrier. But are they too good? https://t.co/AqgxDIciWk

submitted by -en- to newsbotbot [link] [comments]

2019.06.05 17:29 tstocker Altra TIMP 1.5 - Initial Impression

I got these bad boys a bit over a month ago and my wide feet could not be happier.
https://www.altrarunning.com/shop/trail/timp-15-alm1957f?variationId=620#hero=0
I was a bit nervous purchasing a running shoe that was not specifically a wide, but the amount of room in the toe box is just perfect for me.
Pros: * Perfect for my wide feet 4E * High level of Cushioning * Great traction in mud. * Gaitors work really well with them.
Cons: * Traction on wet rocks is dicy. * High Cushioning may not last too long. * Zero drop shoe may take some time to acclimate to. (might not be for everyone?)
Traction on wet rocks is less than desirable, the rubber can be quite slippery if you are trying to bomb down a trail at speed on the wet rocks. Only have about 80 miles on them so far, planning on using these on the Pemi loop in NH. (will update review afterwards)
Shout out to Whirlaway sports for the great recommendation. (Disclaimer: I do not work for Whirlaway, just a fellow shoe geek)
http://blog.saucony.com/whirlaway-sports-cente https://www.facebook.com/whirlawaysports
For those in the area, they are having a huge Tent sale this week 6/7-6/9 - Cash discount
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2018.02.21 08:46 ecstaticandinsatiate The Ides of March - Part 4 (Final Part)

Previous: Parts 1 and 2 Part 3
We find Caesar reclined on a couch in his office. He lies on his back, holding a square of fabric to his nose and cursing every ancient holy name I have ever heard.
A stranger stands before him, prattling in Greek. I only know enough Greek to tell people I don’t speak Greek. My pocketful of words isn’t even enough to make sense of his phonetics. I only stand there beside the guard, watching the conversation vault over my head.
The lord of Rome and conqueror of the Gauls sits up and scowls at me.
“Ides est,” Caesar says when he sees me. Switches from Greek to Latin in barely a breath. His voice is low and gravelly, which somehow makes him more intimidating. He sounds warlike, bearish, and grumpy. “Quod mihi dicere habes?”
translation: "It is the Ides. What do you have to tell me?"
I open and close my mouth like a fish.
The man before him snaps, face twisted in irritation and offense. Apparently did not care for being abruptly ignored. Caesar surges to his feet, growling back in Greek faster than I’ve ever heard him speak. It occurs to me for the first time that he was reducing himself for me. Slowing and minimizing his every word to get it through my head.
His guest straightens his fine burgundy tunic and draws a heavy wool cloak back around his shoulders. The stranger fixes me with an iron-hot glare and stalks out of the room.
“Aetius,” Caesar says. The guard beside us straightens. “Utere requietem. Adriani solum dicere volo”
translation: "Aetius. Enjoy a break. I want to speak to Adrian alone."
The guard offers Caesar a salute, murmurs, “Gratias,” and leaves the room.
And I stand alone with Caesar in my stupid sneakers and my borrowed tunic.
He sinks back down onto the couch. With his elbows on his knees, Caesar clutches the bridge of his nose, leans forward, and murmurs to me, “Mortem sicut percipio.”
translation: "I feel like death."
“Sorry?” I say.
Caesar doesn’t explain. He raises a hand and twitches two fingers at me. Beckoning me over.
I cross the shiny marble floor to his pillowed sickbed. He gestures for me to sit, so I do, wondering at the back of my mind if I can die from a two-thousand-year-old cold.
“Tempus mihi dicere est.”
translation: "It is time to tell me."
“You won’t like what I say,” I say. Caesar looks sideways at me, eyes narrowed. Red-rimmed with exhaustion, they look fiercely green and full of mistrust.
“Veritatem volo,” he tells me.
translation: "I want the truth."
A man with close-shaven dark hair pads in on worn slippers to refill Caesar’s goblet. Caesar does not so much as glance at him as the slave straightens the mantle before walking away again.
I stare at my palms. “It’s a heavy truth.” I glance at the room’s open wall, where anyone could walk in. Or anyone could sit just around the corner, listening, out of sight. “It’s not for everyone to hear.”
Caesar sighs and rises shivering. “Ambulabamus. Et mihi dices.”
translation: "We will walk. And you will tell me."
Part of me wants to ask if he’s well enough for that, but Caesar is already striding out of the room to put on something more presentable.
He never deigns to tell me who the man arguing in Greek was.
We walk together. For once everyone looks my way and it has nothing to do with me. Caesar demands an audience everywhere he goes. If I did not know who he was, he would look like any other man in the crowd. The dictator dresses simply and wears a look of constant urgency that could belong to any tireless man of any station.
But people know Caesar. And every head turns to watch as he storms through the Forum, red-eyed and bleary. He rubs his face with the sleeve of his thick, wine-red toga.
“Omnia me loquere,” he mutters.
translation: "Tell me everything."
“I think that Brutus took you by surprise somewhere.” Caesar stares, sharp-eyed, until I speak again. “And stabbed you.”
“Noli trepidus esse. Te non condemno.” He smile is coy and lightless. “Brutum futurum dicis?”
translation: "Don’t be scared. I don’t blame you. You say it will be Brutus?"
I want to pride myself on understanding all of that, but I know now how simple Caesar makes his Latin for me. “I mean… that’s the story that I heard.”
That makes him stop and pin me in place with his stare. Panic dizzies me for the second it takes him to start laughing. “Impossibilis. Scisne quidem tuam historiam?”
translation: "Impossible. Do you even know your own history?"
“It’s not my history. It’s your history. And I think I know better than you do.”
For a moment he stands breathing hard and glaring down at me. Then Caesar answers, “Numquam solum Brutus consentiat.”
translation: "Brutus would never plot alone."
“Well, I don’t know. I just read the play.”
That makes Caesar pause. His lips quirk in a rare, delighted smile. “De me fabula est?”
translation: "There’s a play about me?"
I stifle the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“Notus est?” He pauses, taps a finger against his lips. “Graviore: bonus est?”
translation: "Is it famous? More importantly: is it good?"
“Well, yes. To both.” I sigh as his smirk grows. “It doesn’t end well for you, you know. The play.”
Caesar waves me off. Slings an arm around my shoulder. I barely keep myself from shying away. I remind myself the man has never heard of germ theory.
He murmurs into my ear, “Sed huc tecum non curare nonne requiro?”
translation: "With you here I don’t have to worry, do I?"
My heart leaps for my throat. “Well. I suppose that’s a point.”
He releases me. My breath comes in grateful gasps. I would like to trust his friendliness, his smile, but there is a threat lurking there underneath: if I can’t keep Caesar safe, there’s nothing useful about me anymore. And I have no idea how he treats useless people.
The dictator glances at a sun dial fixed into the wall of one of the towering buildings. He rolls his eyes at me as if this is our shared burden. “Senatus vocat.” He smacks my chest playfully, and I can’t help but laugh. “Veni. Veram Latinam audire potes.”
translation: "The Senate calls. Come. You can hear real Latin."
I don’t know if watching a legal debate in a dead language will be fascinating or mind-numbing but either way I have no choice but to follow.
We skirt Campidoglio Hill. Caesar does not bother pointing out landmarks as he walks. He is silent but his flickering eyes betray how hard he is thinking.
I just let my stare stray upward and follow Caesar dreamily, as if I’m walking through a painting. Those drooping columns and lonely arches could not prepare me for the splendor lying in the heart of Rome. Some dark part of me wonders if seeing this city whole and hale is worth never going home again.
Home. Here, but so utterly not here. I have worked so hard not to let myself think of it.
Caesar interrupts my thoughts. He says, “Quando?”
I try not to show my horror. The question I’ve been dreading. That word hasn’t changed a bit in two millennia: when?
“When what?” I manage.
“Quando moriar?”
translation: "When will I die?"
I freeze, rooted to the ground. Someone walking behind me walks into me and (more or less* calls me an idiot in what I think is Greek.
Caesar stops walking and stares back at me. Purses his lips. He is ready to wait all day until I speak.
The truth worms its way out of me: “March fifteenth,” I tell him. “The Ides of March.”
The dictator just laughs. “Adriani, hodie non moriar.”
translation: "I’m not dying today, Adrian."
I bite back the urge to answer, you might. I only stare shrugging at the road.
Caesar rubs his temples, hard. He looks at me and looks at the sky, as if debating with the gods themselves. “Meos dies amara omena compleverant.” He yanks at his hair in frustration and futility. “Sicut me dei clamitant.”
translation: "Strange omens have filled my days. As if the gods are calling out to me."
“What are they saying?”
His smile is empty as a ruin. “Noli ire.” Caesar glances at me sideways. “Sed meum honorem statui per neglens deos.*”
translation: "Don't go. But I have made my name off ignoring the warnings of the gods."
“Well,” I start. “If he kills you, he kind of wins. So.”
Caesar pushes on as if he does not hear me, “Mane ille homo meus amicus Decimus est. Here cum me et Calpurnia cenavit. Cum mea vita eum credam. Ad aram me non vocet.”
translation: "That man this morning was my friend, Decimus. He ate dinner last night with Calpurnia and I. I would trust him with my life. He would not call me to the altar."
“Unless he doesn’t know—”
“Ad Senatum ibo. Brutum dicam. De balante non celabo.”
translation: "I will go to the Senate. I will speak to Brutus. I will not hide from a coward."
The serrated look on his face tells me enough. I swallow all my counterarguments. Caesar has little patience for prophets. Even one as inarguable as me.
He does not speak another word to me the rest of the walk to the Theater.
At last he says, “Curia reficitur,” while gesturing dismissively at the building before us. “Hoc sufficiet.”
translation: "The Senate House is under construction. This will suffice."
I shrug up the at the building. It’s massive, and if my geography isn’t totally fucked, this would be Pio’s Palace in a few dozen centuries. This theater is not as large as the palazzo I grew up with, but it is high-walled and vast. Its walls are lined in small, exacting arches.
“Theatrum of Pompeii.” Caesar raised his eyebrows, neutral to the point of suspicion. “In tuo aevo id scisne?”
translation: "The Theater of Pompey. Have you never heard of it, in your time?"
I have to shake my head.
That makes Caesar bark a triumphant laugh. He pauses there in the portico, grinning at me broadly. I wonder if he had forgotten already what was waiting for him inside. Or if he really believes himself that invincible. “Si quis rogat, eum dice: nemo sum. Amicus Caesaris Adrianus sum. Intellegesne?”
translation: "If anyone asks, tell them: I am nobody. I am Caesar’s friend. Do you understand?"
I repeat it back.
Caesar shakes his head, wrinkling his nose. “Cae-sar-is,” he repeats, putting an extra emphasis on his strange tapped R. My Rs trill; his is like a tiny staccato punch. And I cannot for the life of me get it right.
“I don’t know what that means, but it seemed rude,” I mutter.
“Tempta iterum. Caesaris.”
translation: "Say it again. (Of) Caesar."
We stand in the shadow of the theater’s towering columns as Caesar coaches me on my phonetics. He tuts at me like I am a poor student.
“Sufficiet,” he decides. He sighs at my shoes but ushers me into the theater.
translation: "It will do."
Together we walk through the long belly of the theater. It almost seems like an outdoor shopping mall. Every archway houses a stall, a merchant with fine clothes or jewelry, honey cakes or Theban dates. The air is thick with the buzz of strangers milling and laughing and the smell of meat roasting.
Caesar surges past it all for the great doors at the end of the courtyard. Laurel leaves and fleeting sprites are carved into the wood. I want to stand admiring, but Caesar hurls open the entrance to the amphitheater and stalks inside.
The theater is huge and mostly empty. The seats slope gently upward while the stage sits like the bottom of a bowl, a fine ebony throne sat upon it. Caesar’s seat. Two hundred strangers stare down at us from the tiered stone seats. When they see us, they stand us one, but their eyes are pinned to the dictator.
Down on the stage, Caesar stands before them as if the lone man in the eye of a hurricane. Scowling up at them all.
“Brutus ubi est?” he demands.
translation: "Where is Brutus?"
His own voice echoes hollowly back at him.
I just stand in the doorway, watching.
Caesar and the senators speak too quickly for me to hope to keep up. Someone approaches, conciliatory, conceding. Hands raised as if Caesar is a startled horse.
Caesar ignores him. He roars, pushes through the small crowd of senators growing between Caesar and another man. Caesar lunges for him, grabs him by his toga and shakes him, hard. It can only be Brutus.
The crowd on the stage and the senators still in the stands begin speaking all at once. A few men try to pull Caesar off of Brutus; someone high in the stands begins crying, “Quiescite, quiescite!”
translation: "Peace, peace!"
But no one is looking when one of the senators behind Caesar draws something from his belt. I don’t recognize it until he raises it high over his head. And then even though I cry, “Look out!” and Caesar turns, it is not enough.
The first knife bites into his shoulder blade. The dictator cries out and whirls snapping, but all those men fall on him like dogs of war, daggers rising and falling.
Beneath the flurry of togas and steel and blood, I can hear Caesar speaking and screaming. He crumples to the ground. His blood pools scarlet from the hem of his robe. It is sickly slow, like spilled syrup.
And then Caesar’s murderers turn to see me. I run for the door, but one of them catches me by the collar of my tunic and presses his knife to my throat. Panic makes the world fall away from me for a second. He shakes me, fiercely, growls in my face in Greek. The faint recognition dawns on me: he was the man in Caesar’s room earlier. Decimus. His dear old friend.
For a moment I stammer, helplessly. Then I gasp, “Nemo sum.” A dark part of me wants to laugh as I realize I never needed the last part at all. Here being Caesar’s friend meant death.
That knife gleams against my throat. It is ruddy and wet with Caesar’s blood.
The man shoves my chest hard. I stumble back from his knife, my chest heaving in dread and relief. He hisses at me, “Aliquibus quae tu videre hodie narra.
translation: "Tell everyone what you saw today."
I nod. Caesar spits venom from the floor, and someone kicks him in the back. It stains the hem of the senator’s toga red, but he does not notice. He only murmurs curses over Caesar’s last moments.
I hide until they leave. The senators—forty of them at least—gather in the heart of the Forum roaring about liberation and saving old Rome. They call out to the people to rise in celebration. But the people stay in their houses behind locked doors and drawn shutters, waiting for the lions of the senate to pass them by.
And when I am alone, when it is safe, I venture out to check on Caesar.
An hour later, and he’s not dead yet.
“Viginti tres,” he whispers to me. Teeth full of blood. Eyes distant and enraged. “Bastardi viginti tres impetus habuere et me breve perage non possent.”
translation: "Twenty-three. Bastards had twenty three tries and they couldn’t finish me quick."
I stare at the perforations in his toga. The dark red fabric darkening.
He tosses his coin purse at me, feebly. It clunks into a pool of blood.
“Hoc requires,” he says.
translation: "You’ll need this."
I don’t know why, but I reach for Caesar’s hand. He clenches it, tightly. His palms are slippery and cold.
“I’ll get a doctor,” I try.
But Caesar only laughs. His face is white as the marble beneath him. “Mane hic.” He coughs up scarlet on the stone. “Dice mihi de futurum.”
translation: "Stay here. Tell me about the future."
It takes two long hours for Caesar to die. I talk with him the whole while. He dies like a plant withering in the sun. The color leaves him first. Then the lights in his eyes begin shutting off one by one.
I’m there when Caesar finally bleeds to death on the theater floor.
And when he is gone, I can do nothing but stand up and stagger away.
Sunset gathers. The air is cool here and smells like spring and salt. The buildings and all their intricate columns stand before me like the halls of gods themselves. I wander off among them with my pockets full of Caesar’s gold. Hoping to find some way home from all of this.
I have no real plan, no real idea of how to handle my uncertain future. But I know whatever I do, it must start with wine.
submitted by ecstaticandinsatiate to shoringupfragments [link] [comments]

2015.12.22 21:52 shaylybri Drinking Jenga Italiano - Aiuta!

Ciao cari amici! Il mio moroso è italiano (io sono americana), e dopo ho visto questo posto ho deciso di fare una cosa simile per il suo compleanno (a gennaio). Cioè, compro la Jenga e scrivo sui pezzi le cose che si deve fare. Il problema è che non parlo benissimo l'italiano e mi serve aiuto con la traduzione.
Queste sono le mie idee e le mie traduzioni:
Se avete altre idee, fammi sapere! Ci sono 54 pezzi e posso anche cambiare quelli che ci sono se secondo voi fanno schifo.
Grazie grazie grazie!
submitted by shaylybri to italy [link] [comments]

2015.07.04 21:27 Booksarefun666 Norsca Magazine: RPL Commentary pt. 3/3

1st page: https://www.reddit.com/bloodbowl/comments/3axbo7/norsca_magazine_rpl_commentary_pt_13/
2nd page: https://www.reddit.com/bloodbowl/comments/3azmbs/norsca_magazine_rpl_commentary_pt_23/
Division three rankings here. Due to the time gap in between this page and the last one, there might be some inconsistency. From now on, we'll just be waiting until the season's over.
FineElf Fantasy, you were not forgotten!
Side note: Looks like a winner has been decided and through some magical arcane workings it ended up with a tie on Moradin's Anvil vs the Folk Metal Marauders, with Moradin's Anvil getting the glory and the 1st place winnings and the Folk Metal Marauders getting no glory and runner up winnings.
If you're wondering why you're thirsty it's because this page is exceptionally more salty than the others.
The Folk Metal Marauders are coming for you, Moradin's Anvil!
Chaos Dwarves being on this low on the totem pole is fairly surprising because they're consider a top tier team.
Normally I'd expect a litany of dead players or missing pieces but no such luck. In fact, there's one instance of lucky rolls here.
Notable players: Eightbull, a Chaos Dwarf Blocker. Take a moment to guess what he has on him?
Don't worry, I'll wait.
If you guessed claw and mighty blow, you're right.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: SoulOfDragnsFire
*Since we already gone over Gravy Trains on the last page, we'll be going over FineElf Fantasy which got to the second bracket in a master stroke!
The High Elves in this league are all battered up and are at a rough spot. Fortunately, that's to be expected and these teams tend to shine after really long leagues.
They're essentially blank slates, really expensive blank slates.
Notable players: (01)Tidus, a thrower with strong arm, (05) Luneth, a catcher with 5 agility, and (07)Rinoa, a line-Elf with guard.
On the injury side, there's (10)Cid with dodge and a nasty serious concussion.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Wiltho555
Again, this team is in the second bracket.
As previously mentioned, High Elves are in it for the long haul but this one got especially battered up in the very first round against the Folk Metal Marauders.
Two positionals died, the fact that he didn't rage quit from the league is very telling on the coach.
Kudos to the coach for sticking with it.
Notable players: No stat ups or doubles but check this injury list out
(01)Arlathtan, Blitzer, -1 AV (04)Lanlaithion Udomiel, Line-Elf, -1MA (10) Rinthellerion Vanval, Line-Elf, -1 agility Dead +1 str line elf according to the coach.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: SterlingArcher
More Elves, they're all in a really rough spot this league but who knows how they'll fare after being in the bracket with the stunty midgets for punching bags?
Notable players: This guy didn't level three of his Elves so there's no telling what he'll have but... nothing yet. No doubles, no nothing.
There IS a -1 AV on (13) Martin Scorchstabby. Nice!
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Eyclonus
Finally we get to the stunty teams and who's surprised they'd be at the bottom rung? They're by far the worst team but the most interesting ones.
Notable players: (13) Oops, you think I'm in love has +1 str as A Goblin. Always a good stat up.
MVP: Coach's response is lengthy but can be seen here: https://www.reddit.com/bloodbowl/comments/3c4p3k/norsca_magazine_rpl_commentary_pt_33/cssnd1h
Coached by: Taco Truck
This guy has his videos up so I'll leave you up as judge for his coaching skill. Still, a nurgle team in the bottom bracket either tends to spell bad luck or incompetence.
Notable players: This guy is fairly lucky on rolls though... Check this out.
(02) Nidoking, a 5str Nurgle Warrior (07)Zubat a 6MA rotter
Injuries is numerous and Nurgle will always love you despite your injuries.
-1 MA on (03)Weezing. -1AG on (08)Weedle.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Redevil18
Vampires are low tier, high class and don't you forget that. It takes immense skill to play Vampire and there's not really much you can do to prepare for it... you just have to play it and get better.
Norsca Magazine is personally keeping tabs on this team because Vampires are possibly the highest risk/reward team out there.
Notable players: No doubles but have some injuries.
(02) Mr Slant, Thrall, -1 MA (07) Reg Shoe, Thrall, -1 MA, -1 AG (08) Altogether Andrews, +1 injury (niggle)
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Yani26
More Goblins! Can't wait to see what this team has in terms of team build up...
Notable players: (13) Charles Lindbergh has a -1 AV... Sounds like a Goblin team already.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Amozoaque
Lets stop and have a talk about Khorne. Khorne is actually a good team, but you're really limited in your start team.
You just simply can't play Khorne on 2 rerolls and I daresay 3 rerolls is still a dicy proposition.
People might disagree with this, but Bloodthirster + 11 cultists + 3 RRs is really the only feasible way to go.
Other than that, frenzy opens up a lot of opportunities and is a nightmare once you finally got block.
The Bloodthirster is possibly the best big guy in the game. Claw, frenzy, horns, and juggernaut? It's already a killer piece that just needs Mighty Blow and everything is basically 6AV. It is by all rights an overpowered piece.
You don't even need block on doubles, pro will make it by the most terrifying piece in the game and is THE stunning definition of a reliable killer piece.
With horns, nothing but a deathroller or +1 str is safe without assists.
Speil aside here's the team...
Notable players: (08) Howard the Duck, a pitfighter cultist with guard and -1 AV.
MVP: Coach's input needed.
Coached by: Smileinbob
Ah, the obligatory Halfling team! Webbard's a fun sort to play with and it'll be interesting to see how it goes for the next season for him.
Hopefully he'll get +2 MA on a tree or something along those lines..
Notable players: No interesting stat ups or injuries. Maybe next season we'll get something cool in this roster.
MVP: We at Norsca magazine interviewed Webbard while he was coaching his halfling team and we can officially confirm that the rumors is true, their practice in between seasons involves tea time and elaborate feast fit for an emperor and he said thusly in between meals, "MVP? Probably the two Wilcomes. They combined for 3 of my 4 TDs, 124 yards running, 7 injuries and 7 KOs while not missing a game. Broccoli even managed to KO someone"
Truly monsters on the pitch.
Coached by: Webbard
submitted by Booksarefun666 to bloodbowl [link] [comments]

2014.12.25 13:51 icard I quit 6+ years ago. Can someone tell me if my account is worthwhile?

I got hacked over 6 years ago when I was in highschool and quit playing but I guess at some point they returned all the hacked junk. I don't know anything about the current marketplace situation or gold influction so i'm wondering if anyone can help me out by telling me if my account is relevant/worthwhile. Inventory below (taken from tektek thing):
TLDR: Est. Total: 1,152,407,997,767
submitted by icard to gaiaonline [link] [comments]