Guilty, or Grateful?

Should I feel guilty, or grateful? Today I was supposed to swim for 45 minutes, easy laps, focus on cadence, yadda yadda yadda.  Then, I was supposed to spin easily for 45 minutes. I forgot my local pool is closed on Mondays, so that left me with a mere 45-minute workout day coming off a weekend where I missed a key long run due to a potential injury (more on that in a moment).

In other words, I didn't need a recovery day from fatigue.

But perhaps I needed a genuine recovery day as a reward for my body putting up with me not permitting it to rest so much after Friday's terrible leg cramps.

Fortunately, after my ART appointment this morning, I learned that my hip flexor/TFL strain was mild at best and I'd be fine.  My injury was essentially from overuse and probably an awkward position in one of my exercises (I'm thinking reverse situps or step ups with weights).  It stems from a weak psoas muscle (deep in the lower abs) that triggers overcompensation in my left hip muscles.

It's so strange that in my second go around with Ironman training, mentally I'm in great shape five weeks out but physically I'm practically falling apart.  Some days I wonder if I'm going to sprint to the finish or stagger.  However it turns out, I will cross the finish line.  Walk, shuffle, jog, run or sprint, I will cross the finish line.  I feel like I'm too experienced not to, and I've made so many mistakes over the past couple years and months that I'm due for a "good" race.

But I don't expect one either. I expect to do my best, try to be smart, listen to my body, and take what the day gives me.

If only I listened to my body a bit more in training.  I think I got lucky this weekend I didn't tear something.  It could have been a lot worse, only missing one big workout -- one I'll make up tomorrow morning.

So, guilty or grateful?

GRATEFUL.

Most grateful.

34 days and counting.

A New Way to Race?

OK, it's starting to sink in: After one Ironman and two Half-Ironmans, I'm learning the hard way that the key to a successful race is pacing towards the run and not trying to set PR's on the swim and bike. At least I think so?

I put this theory to practice today in a pedestrian 3.5 hour ride with my buddy Frank.  We twice replicated the Amgen Stage 8 route from last year, Agoura Road to Cornell to Mulholland up Rock Store and down Decker.  Our pace was slow (trust me), but I kept my heart rate mostly in zone 2 (typically south of 141 bpm).  This also was because I chucked up a fair amount of mucus from chest and nose through the first half of the ride.  But, by the end I felt pretty decent -- though my body was telling me a third loop would be a mistake.

The highlight of the ride was spotting Team HTC/Highroad (Cavendish, Martin, Renshaw, etc.) at Westlake Boulevard on its way presumably to Hidden Valley or up Decker.  Granted, the "big three" aren't with this particular team as they're at the Giro d'Italia according to the curt German team mechanics I quizzed as I visited the team's truck.  They're training in Southern California instead of Northern because, as the jerky bike tech said, "you want them to train in the snow?"

Gee, thanks dude.

After the ride, I did something I rarely get to do following a workout -- sleep!  Steph is trying on her wedding dress down south today and that meant I could take a nap that I desperately needed.  It's quite clear my body is still fighting infection as an alarm had to wake me up nearly two hours later.  But I still rallied to jump in the pool for 40 minutes and I'm glad I did.  My performance was much better today than yesterday, which is encouraging.

Maybe I haven't lost as much fitness as I thought.

That said, I probably couldn't have gone much harder on the bike today even if I tried. Which brings me back to my main point.  I may have to accept the realization that if I want a faster Ironman time, I need to hold back a bit on the bike and swim.  I simply need more energy to expend later in the day and can't get caught up in trying to PR any one particular area of my race. I did have that kind of mindset at Wildflower, as I feel like what's the point of racing if you're not trying to outdo yourself in each of the three sports every time?  But, ultimately it's how you finish the race -- not how you start or complete a particular segment.  The fact is that it's probably a lot easier to make up time on the run than anywhere else.  On a swim we're talking a matter of minutes between a PR performance while still turning in a respectable time.  On the bike, what's 15 more minutes on the road if it ultimately means saving 20-30 minutes on the run?

I need to focus on the long-term goal. Finishing the race in my goal time.  Not what split I've achieved.

Easier said than done, but today was a good lesson in that area.

Let's see if it sticks.

RS

50 days and counting.

Sizing it Up

I'm  in Paso Robles at the La Quinta Inn with my friends Chris, Tia and Mike, winding down our preparations for tomorrow's Wildflower Long Course triathlon.  It's 8:30 p.m. and we're going to bed for a 5:15 a.m. wakeup call.

It's been an exhausting two days.  Yesterday, I took the day off from work to focus on race prep and getting my head straight.  Instead, I worked from home and completed two upcoming articles for Lava Magazine Online -- one of them ironically dedicated to stress management.  I went to bed last night cranky, tired and felt bad because I took it out on Stephanie.  It's the taper, I told myself.  But still, there's really no excuse to be a brat.

My mood continued through this morning, when I rushed out the door in a blur after submitting both articles and arriving late for our scheduled 9 a.m. caravan time.  I was frazzled and couldn't have been further from my desired mental place a day before racing.  I needed quiet time. Badly.

However, when you travel with a group anywhere, that's not what you're going to get.  So, taking a lesson from one of the professional triathletes I interviewed for the stress column, I controlled the situation as best I could and got quiet within my own mind.  I thought about what I could do to have a great race, the important steps to enjoying a great race.  For once, I tried not to think about hitting a specific timeframe, which is difficult for someone as competitive as I am.

While I'm not sure how this approach will play out tomorrow, I do know it helped me today once my group and I entered the Wildflower expo area. G-d and G-dess bodies abound at the lake.  Everyone is ripped, dressed in their pre-race compression gear and looking ready to absolutely crush the course.  My friends noticed several competitors and called them out to each other, questioning whether they could beat them.  I remained silent.  I can't control their performance.  Or anyone else's but mind.  It doesn't matter who's faster than me.  What matters is did I run the best race I could, and how can I ensure I achieve my potential.

I am nervous for tomorrow morning.  Who isn't before a big race?  But I feel prepared.  I know I belong here, along with the athletes who might look the part better than I do and even talk the talk better.  I am aware, but I am not afraid.

So for once, instead of sizing up the competition, I'm simply sizing up myself.  And, despite a hectic two days preceding the race, I like what I see.

58 days and counting.

Sea Change

In the workplace, fancy business magazines and consultants call it a "sea change" when something profound occurs to shift not just a business, but an industry or a movement. I feel like I experienced something similar to a sea change ironically in the pool tonight. Maybe it's merely an epiphany but I realized that instead of lamenting all the training and counting the days until "the end" (IM Coeur d' Alene), I need to really savor these moments while I can. Truth is, "the end" is nearer than I'd care to admit -- and that will be the real end of my racing and serious training for 2011.  In June.  Just two months away.

Whereas not having a set schedule sounded so appealing, now I realize it also means the absence of something special.  A bond with teammates. A common goal.  The chance to put myself to the test.

In other words, a void.

In two months, I'll be putting it all on the line for my second Ironman within a calendar year.  And then, that's it.  No race goals.  No training goals other than what I choose for myself.

I'm excited for the free time and of course the biggest day of all -- my wedding.  But instead of just getting through each day of training, I'm going to try harder to take it all in and enjoy each workout for what it is -- a pronouncement that I have big goals and am achieving them.  None of this comes easy, but the knowledge that I've vowed to do something for myself and am actually seeing it through is something I'm proud of.  And, none of this is guaranteed.  I could get hurt tomorrow and my break would start a lot sooner than I wanted.

So, here's to being grateful for every workout.  Here's to savoring an accomplishment.  Here's to enjoying the stretch run, and this Saturday's race.

Maybe that's why my water bottle quote for Wildflower will be "Peace Within."

Now THAT is a sea change for me.

61 days and counting.

I'm Ready

Fortius Coaching held a Wildflower pre-race strategy meeting in Encino tonight. As I sat there with my teammates, serving as the dutiful note-taker, I realized something important.  Perhaps the most important thing I've realized all year so far:  I'm so ready for this race.  And for every race moving forward. I do give much credit to my coach.  I know what to expect at these races.  I know how to remain calm.  I know that I need a routine, my own routine, to get ready on race day. I know that means going away from the group and getting in my zone, my place.  I know I need music to find that place as well.

What I don't need are lots of facts and reminders about what exactly to do and when to do it.  I learned all that stuff last year.  I know when to eat before a race, what to eat, and how much to drink.  When I started thinking about all those details tonight during the meeting I started to stress out.  It's a lot to remember!  I'd rather just trust myself at this point, show up to the race, run my ass off and celebrate afterwards.

That is going to be my plan.  Along with coming up with a cool quote to write on my water bottle for race day.  Any suggestions out there?  So far I'm thinking, "Don't think. Just Race."

62 days and counting.

Shout Out to Tri-Widows

Sometimes Stephanie asks me how my day went and I don't know what to say.  It sounds so trivial, really.  I woke up early, ran for a while, maybe jumped in the pool for a bit and went to work.  I attended a bunch of meetings really about nothing important, did some other work too, and then after leaving the office I either came home or worked out some more.  Then I blog.  End of story. Meanwhile, Steph is up to her eyeballs in work, building a career, trying to juggle multiple wedding vendors and their tedious contracts, planning a close friend's bachelorette party and trying to help maintain a home for us both.  Her to-do list looks like my to-bring list for a race, just longer and without the butt-butter.

After spending two nights just trying to pick up a bit more of the household load, I realized while folding laundry and towels that I've got nothing on her!

So tonight, instead of spending a bunch of time reflecting on my hard swim workout, or watching Paris-Roubaix replay (again) while spinning, or the lifting I did at lunch with Shannan, I'm going to write about folding laundry. Cleaning out drawers. Hanging dresses. Doing dishes.  Picking up around the house.  Taking over some wedding planning duties.  Helping cook dinner last night.  This is the stuff that's really important.

We as triathletes have to remember that while we juggle three sports, our partners juggle our three sports (and hearing about them endlessly) AND their lives too.

I'm not sure which is more mentally taxing.  I may be the Ironman.  But Steph is no less an Iron Woman for enduring and being such a supportive partner.

61 days and counting.

Why I Almost Signed Up for IM St. George: Part 2

Upon entering VNSO pool yesterday morning for my 3,200 yard swim, I saw the following sign posted near the dressing room door: "Pool to be closed for maintenance for 3 WEEKS starting May 31."

I had to do a triple-take.  No, this can't be happening!  Seriously?  The final three weeks of IM Coeur d'Alene training?  When I'm in the pool for repeated 4,000-yard workouts and then running off to work, then more long-distance training after work?

Yes, there are other pools in the area.  But none are quite as convenient as VNSO, which is literally 5 minutes from my condo.  I can roll out of bed, put on my swimsuit, grab a banana to eat quickly, fill my water bottle and within 15 minutes I'm swimming laps.  It's fast, and most important, conveniently on my way to work.

Now, I'll need to head the opposite direction, to Calabasas, to fit in my morning swims.  Then, I'll need to fight traffic to get to work on time.  It's a hassle, and really the last thing I need or want at this point in my training.  Worse, I'm not sure what Coach Gerardo is going to do about coached swim workouts in the evening or mornings as those require permits.  Is it really worth the effort to secure those for three weeks?

This led me yesterday to make up my mind that I was going to go for Ironman St. George.  I'm sick of scheduling my life around training!  So the best way around that is to A) be done as quick as possible and take a longer break and B) IM St. G is on May 7, so the pool being closed May 31-June 24 won't really matter to me.

My mind was further made up after I spent time talking with Mark Allen, widely considered one of if not THE greatest triathlete of all time.  I'm interviewing Mark for my next "Mind Games" column with Lava Magazine Online.  I couldn't resist asking him about my "dilemma" at the end of our interview.  His advice? Why not do BOTH St. George and IM CDA?

My heart says YES!  My body says NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Marks' feeling was that you should race at the races you want to race at.  If St. George is calling to me, which it is and will continue to, then I should do it.

Then, after a second Passover seder last night, I talked with Stephanie about it.

She thinks I likely won't be physically able to complete IM CDA if I do St. George, and if I don't do CDA then I've wasted a huge amount of money.  This is true.  And the race is largely non-refundable ($150 return for $575 registration, no thanks!).  So, in pragmatic terms, I'd be spending close to an extra $1,000 just to satisfy a deep primal urge to be an Ultimate Badass(TM).  And, if I tried to do CDA, I'd still need to find a friggin' pool for those three weeks!!!

So, after having some real sense talked into me, I'm back to my original plan.  I'm going for IM CDA, with all my might.

I really want to try St. George.  If I was made of money right now, didn't have two games shipping this fall, wasn't planning for a wedding and honeymoon or writing for Lava, I just might do it.

Instead, I'll think about St. George for next year, depending on the state of my mind, body and spirit. I know I've said CDA will be my last full-distance Ironman, but St. George is only six hours away!  It's so close, whispering to me.

If only Coeur d'Alene was whispering to me as loudly.  I think I need to work on that.  The Wildflower long-course next Saturday will help.

62 days and counting.

Answering the Call

I heard the bell tonight in my head.  Round 1: Fight! Really, it's round 12 of a 15 round slugfest.  The prize is my second Ironman.  As far as I'm concerned, Ironman CDA training "officially" began today.  It began in the pool, when in the final 100 of the night, two swimmers I had swam as fast as in speed drills all evening passed me in our time trial.  That made me think of my friend Chris, who the other night told me his only goal at IM CDA is to beat my IMAZ time, "a little friendly competition" he told me.

My friends are gunning for me.  They're training to beat their best aspirational times, and me in the process.

There is no more room for moping, or bitching.  Now is the time to work.

Coach Gerardo reminded me of that tonight when he said it's time to stop taking Sundays off.  Wildflower is essentially six weeks away. I haven't done enough brick workouts.  My conditioning is good but not great.

Like the Lakers, if there's some magical "switch" that I can turn on, now is the time to flip it.  Now is the time to drop the negativity.  Now is the time to put on the proverbial hard hat and go to work.  To answer the call.  Perhaps my three-day slide isn't unlike the Lakers' pre-All-Star skid where they lost to fairly miserable teams Charlotte and Cleveland.  Perhaps the champs were looking for motivation, and found it after taking some time to rest and recover.

That's how I'm feeling right now.  Re-focused, if not re-energized. I'm still working on that latter part, but I can sense the urgency in Wildflower approaching. I've honestly overlooked it, with nearly all my focus placed on IM CDA.

And today, Wildflower and IM CDA training officially began.  In the pool, losing badly to my buddies.

But to my friends who think they're beating me in Coeur d'Alene this year, I will say this:  Step your game up.  I'll be waiting.

Switch = flipped.

96 days and counting.

Falling Off the Fitness Wagon

(Note: Photos will be added tomorrow. I'm still on a plane on the way back from Austin!) I fell off the fitness wagon this weekend.  This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, my demise is rather spectacular.  In this case it meant lots of Texas barbecue (Salt Lick OMG!), lots of Amy’s ice cream (Oreo Speedwagon!), Shiner Bock beer (among my favorites!) and good wine.  It also meant very little training, to the tune of one hour, 15 minutes over the entire weekend.  The odd part is, my travel-driven fitness blunders usually happen when I have everything planned in advance.  Pool to swim in at hotel confirmed in advance.  Fitness center with all the good equipment confirmed in advance.  Gear packed.  Cycling class scheduled, shorts packed.  Even my Garmin watch was charged.

But my intentions were outweighed by reality.  Standing on my feet for hours on end at events and the show floor, being “on” for press and fans of our games, simply wreaks havoc on my back and legs.  I can run all day but can’t stand still!  I’d rather run 15 miles and be sore than deal with the stiffness of waking up after hours standing in one place.  Combine that with being in Austin for the annual music, film and games festival, South by Southwest, and combine that with daylight savings time…and boom goes the training dynamite.

What the heck was I thinking to even try fitting training in this weekend???

Now I know what is meant by the term “Triathlete Zombies.”  We don’t think practically sometimes.  We just have tunnel vision to find a way to complete the next workout.  Stay on schedule, at all costs. Even at the coolest gathering of live, authentic entertainment and kick-ass food in the country.  Meanwhile, life marches on, by and through our somewhat self-absorbed plans.

I should have known it was going to be a long weekend from the very beginning.

I had booked a bike at Mellow Johnny’s (Lance Armstrong’s cycling shop) in their Pedal Hard Training Center, where I was supposed to preview the Ironman Coeur d’Alene course via CompuTrainer.  There was only one problem – Mellow Johnny’s forgot to reserve a bike for me.  My original plan was to cycle for two hours, maybe more, run back to the hotel a few blocks away and then head to the show floor to report for duty.  That blew up in smoke, and in fact Pedal Hard training master Chrissie had to apologetically send me back to the hotel.  I was devastated, like going to the toy store and being told you brought a dollar too little to pay for that favorite action figure you’ve coveted all year.

But then, Cycling Karma smiled.

I had chatted casually with a few of the cyclists using the CompuTrainer equipment on their own bikes as they prepared for their workouts.  Two of them, Casey and an unknown but very kind cyclist on a sweet Felt/SRAM roadie, heard about my plight from Chrissie after I had left.  They both offered to let me borrow their bike for an hour.  So, as I was talking to Steph back at the hotel, dejectedly preparing to swim, Chrissie texted me back and told me to hurry on to the shop again.

That was probably my fastest mile all week!

Chrissie single-handedly saved my morning.  I was so grumpy and dejected at first that I was afraid it would affect my performance at the panel I was leading later in the day.  Missing workouts through no fault of mine is the worst!  But Chrissie doted over me for the hour at Pedal Hard, devising an intervals workout for me, instructing me carefully on how to balance my cadence, and gently urging me to, well, pedal hard, when it counted.  By the end I was spent.  She also advised me to look into a 25/27 cassette for the hilly Coeur d’Alene course as it might save my legs on the run.  Further, she had completed Ironman Coeur d’Alene and gave me all sorts of great advice on how to handle the bigger hills at roughly miles 18 and 72 (“just keep spinning,”)

I was preparing to pay for my session when Chrissie said it was on the house, for the “inconvenience.”  I told her it all worked out fine and I was more than satisfied but she insisted my workout was free.

My faith in all things Cycling Karma had been restored, Mellow Johnny’s remains the Mecca it had always been, and I can’t wait to plan my next trip there.

Thank you, Chrissie.  Thank you, Lance.

That would be the last bit of training I’d do the entire weekend.  An entire day of booth duty, a panel, press interviews and a dinner that lasted until midnight (at Driskills, DO recommend!) crushed me Sunday morning. I simply couldn’t get out of bed.  I knew it was a combination of daylight savings time, fatigue and really the heart of the matter, a quiet room with no Bam-Bam upstairs banging on the ceiling, no snoring next to me (sorry honey!), and the quiet hum of the air conditioning set at the temperature I love.  And the room was dark.  The trifecta was complete, Quiet, Dark, and Cold.  The perfect sleep cave.

Ain’t.  Gonna.  Move!

I’m torn about ditching my weekend training.  On one hand, I know I needed the rest.  I worked hard this week and through the weekend, on top of all the recent business travel.  I know the incremental gains made by training through the fatigue could have worn me down enough to be susceptible to illness considering all the dirty hands I shook (I set a world record for hand sanitizer used in a six-hour period), sweaty console controllers I held, and how much air travel I’ve done the past several weeks.  I feel like rest now will pay larger dividends later than trying to be a tri-zombie and cram in one or two more mindless workouts just because they’re on the schedule.  I also know that I’m not quite in the final critical three months stage just yet, and if ever there was a time to relax a bit, eat a bit more, enjoy a city I love just a bit longer and have a bit more fun, this was the moment. I just wished I had come to terms with that sooner, as in Saturday night when the streets were bustling with activity, rather than Sunday morning alone in my hotel room staring at my suitcase with the goggles and swim cap inside.

Will training a grand total of seven hours this week hurt me at Coeur d’Alene?  Maybe. How much?  I have no idea.  Do I care?  Kinda.  But right now I don’t regret it.  I made the choice.  I did what I had to do to listen to my body and my brain.  My heart didn’t object.  Everything said, “take it easy.”

Whether that’s experience or laziness talking, I’m not so sure yet. Though I can tell you that I’m ready to attack training as best I can in the coming days.  Maybe it’s guilty nervous energy.  However, I may ease back into it just a bit so it’s not such a shock to the system.  I’ve been in this place before, trying to overtrain to compensate for lack of activity (and stretching).  That’s how problems really start.

So while I’m eager to train hard, I know it can’t come all at once.  I’ll have to train smarter.

Maybe my Tri-Zombie days are finished.  Maybe I’m getting a little wiser, a little more relaxed  and gaining better perspective about this crazy sport.

Or maybe it’s time to just have a little more fun when I go on these trips.

Maybe falling off the wagon is a good thing.  After all, once you fall, you have to stop, dust yourself off, and take a look around before getting back on again.

100 days and counting.  Bye-bye triple-digits.