A Tough Decision

Tonight, with the advice and  help of my coach, I decided not to run the Surf City Half Marathon this weekend. Could I run the 13.1 miles?  Yes.  Could I finish in two hours or less?  Probably.

Will this help propel  my training and boost my confidence?

Not really.

Moreover, I could re-aggravate the leg injuries that ART therapy has helped me restore.  There's just not enough upside here, as Mel Kiper Jr. likes to say when evaluating NFL Draft prospects.  The funny thing is, I've known all along this is the right decision.  I signed up for Surf City without a clear head, still emotionally swelling from Ironman Arizona.  I had no business making such lofty plans mere days after such a big race. I know that now.

It could be worse though.  My buddy John, who has been pasting me in trail runs the past few Wednesday, felt a twinge in his leg this past week while I was in London.  He instantly knew it was serious.  IT band tightness.  John, too, is a scratch for this Sunday's Race.

Not such a Super Sunday after all.

I've had the great fortune of participating in multiple races, injury free.  This was to be John's first half marathon.  A big milestone in his life.  He worked very, very hard to get to this moment.  Perhaps too hard.  But this is just a heartbreaking turn of bad luck for him.  He told me that at first he almost wanted to cry he was so frustrated, the moment he knew his race was over before it started.

I'm sure we can all relate at some point.

For me, I'm reminded how blessed we are to arrive at the starting line ready to race.  Physically and mentally.  It's a gift in itself to feel healthy, alive and proud just moments before the starting gun pops.

Keep that in mind the next time you toe the line.  We are very, very lucky when our plans align with reality.

138 days and counting.

Surf City Half Marathon: A Double PR

When I woke up at 4:30 this morning, I wasn't sure how my first official race of the Ironman season was going to fare.  As is often the case with me, myriad thoughts ran rampant through my head, all vying for attention simultaneously:

  • Would all this heart-rate mumbo-jumbo actually pay off?
  • Have all the training hours actually transformed me into a better triathlete?
  • Would the weekly trail runs in Agoura and Newbury Park harden my legs to better withstand the rigors of pavement running?

As I sit comfortably in my office chair at home, the answer is yes, I think so and definitely!

The morning and race itself was a blur.  I attribute that to a mixture of grogginess, "runner's trance" and pure joy.  Here are the highlights I recall:

Around 7:10 a.m., my Fortius teammates Mike and Karen arrived with me to the race starting area with about 30 minutes to spare before the starting gun.  We carpooled together, which was atypical for me. Typically, I like to arrive much earlier to feel the race environment, feed off the crowd energy, get appropriately warmed up, and generally amped for the start.  Mike's approach is different, and turned out to be beneficial.  He likes to wait in the warmth of his car for as long as possible before taking the shuttle bus over, and then get loose just before the race start. I think I'm going to do that more often.

Despite the early morning chill (46 degrees around 6:30 a.m.), once I started jogging I immediately became warm and focused.  I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with such little preparation compared to my normal routine.

In another big departure, I chose not to run with music.  I wanted to see what it would be like to simply stay in touch with my breathing without distraction, figuring that the sound of 20,000 footsteps all around me would provide a symphony all its own. I loved it.  I felt more connected to the race, and what I can only describe as a hive-mind mentality of thousands of people marching towards one goal simultaneously.  Powerful stuff.  Hence, "runner's trance."

As much as music can be a motivator, it can also isolate us from each other in the most engaging of moments begging to be shared with others.

On to the actual running.  The sense of connectivity I felt with my surroundings and the experience at-large boosted my performance.  I started the race more calmly.  I maintained my zone 3 heart rate for much longer, and was able to drop it a little more easily when I crept upward.  The result was that I grew stronger as the race progressed.  My first three miles were at an 8:17 pace, followed by an 8:09 pace at the eight-mile marker.

My first indication that today might yield a good finish time came around the fourth mile, when I caught up to the 1:50:00 pace group.  For the next three miles, it became a tantalizing game of cat-and-mouse, as I'd gently throttle up to the front of the group, only to drop back a ways after my heart-rate rose to a point beyond my race-day plan.  I passed the 1:50 group unexpectedly, rounding a corner back onto Pacific Coast Highway.  There was a water stop at the intersection and as I made the right turn, I couldn't see the 1:50 sign bobbing ahead as it had been.  At first I thought I fell off the pace dramatically since there was traffic in the hydration area.

Then, I looked backwards.

Big smile.

It was at that moment I knew I was going to break my personal record.

The rest of the race became a gradual series of surprise and joy, as I waited in vain for my legs to lock up, or something bad to happen.  Yet, as I continued toward the finish, I was growing stronger, faster and more confident.  People whom I couldn't reach in the first part of the race were falling behind me.  And it felt great.  My only challenge was keeping my heart-rate under control not because of working too hard, but because I was just so damn excited!  It ultimately became a game to see how much time I could shave off my previous PR (1:50).

I finished in 1:45:59, more than four minutes faster than last year's best result.

Then, I strutted (literally) down the finisher's corridor straight to the beer garden.  There I met some new friends I've met via my twitter account (@theironmadman).  Bob (@rcmcoach), Liana (@fittorrent) and Chris (@chrisschauble) were all on hand to congratulate me and each other for a great run.  We combined forces with LA Tri Club and Fortius friends to make a larger celebration party (pictured).  And merriment ensued.

Strangely enough, my race may not have been the biggest breakthrough of the day.  As I watched the Super Bowl with my buddy Kevin and some other long-time friends, my thoughts drifted to my break-up.  I was wondering what she was doing at that moment, where she was.  And I was really frustrated.  I've been fighting an inner war the past several weeks between two selves: The guy who still loved his girl, and the guy who sadly knew it was time to move forward and anew.

I couldn't figure out why I still wanted to be with her, and then it occurred to me in a true epiphany: When I'm not with her, my emotional core takes over.  Sometimes I can't think clearly.  All I see is her and what could have been. Yet, when I was with her, my practical self would rule, and that self could clearly see the challenges inherent in the relationship. Ultimately, that self won out.

In a healthy, stable relationship, both selves must be in alignment.  When they're not, something is wrong.

I let out an audible sigh that must have been lost amidst all the cheers in the game. But this was a very big moment for me.  I totally get it now.  When I'm feeling a little low, now I know why I'm feeling low. It's not because I made a mistake in the relationship, it's simply because it's a natural emotional response to missing someone you care for.  But it doesn't mean it's time to go back.

It's time to move forward. Even when it's hard to do so.  But this realization makes it MUCH easier to do so.

So, today was also a personal PR for me.  While I miss my ex-girlfriend greatly, I unburdened a big part of my past right there in that living room.  And hopefully left it there.

Whomever said "To know thyself is to love thyself" is one smart dude.

My Ironman journey grows deeper and more soulful by the day.  At the beginning, I was running towards a tangible finish line, but now the distance just continues to grow as the destination and route constantly changes.

289 days and counting.

Calm Before the Storm

There are 290 days left until Ironman Arizona. There are 14 hours left until the first race of my Ironman season.

The Surf City Half Marathon looms.  Today's weather reflects my attitude about the race.  Murky.  Gray.  Rainy.  Patches of sun.

Why?  I'm not sure what to expect tomorrow.  Two-plus months of Ironman training will be put to the test for the first time.  While I'm absolutely certain I will break two hours, the question is whether I'll break 1:50, my time last year at the Pacific Half Marathon in Agoura.

I'm no doubt in better shape than I was a year ago for Surf City, my first half marathon.  However, am I faster?  Will I get the chance to find out?  According to my schedule, Surf City is supposed to be a C-level race priority.  A training run, in other words.  But can anything be a C-level priority if you have to wake up at 4:30 a.m. to do it?  Coach Gerardo has me following a specific plan tomorrow, which essentially calls for remaining in zone 3 heart rate for the first 10 miles and zone 4 for the last three.  That means I won't be able to cross beyond 168 bpm in the final three miles.

I'm not sure my competitive side will allow for that.  If I feel good, I know I'll be very tempted to push it.  C-level priority my ass.  Especially if my buddies Kevin and Tim are running side-by-side at that point, or slightly ahead.  And they know it too.

Either way, I am dialed in for this race.  I wasn't when the day began.  Hours in the car schlepping from Sherman Oaks to Huntington Beach to pick up the race packet, and back to Thousand Oaks for an appointment gave me plenty of time to idly think about the race, training, family, life, etc.  My mind was all over the place.

Then, my iPod saved the day again.  Isn't it funny when your iPod seems more like a friend than a music player -- knowing just what song to play on shuffle mode exactly when you need to hear it most?

Today, that song was "Right Here, Right Now" by Van Halen.  Like a gong in yoga class, the opening piano and guitar riff snapped my focus together instantly.

Then, I played it three times in a row.

Needless to say, I'm pretty jacked right about now.

Is it 8 a.m. yet?

290 days and counting.