Freshman, Triathlon Tech University

Waking up this morning sucked. And it wasn't even before 7!

Quick note: I've got the Upstairs Neighbors from Hell. You'll be hearing about the inconsiderate mother and her 3-year-old son from time-to-time, like now, for instance. I'll call the mom "Trudy" and the son "Bam-Bam." Imagine hearing an earthquake directly above your head any time between 5:30-7:30 a.m. and it continuing intermittently throughout the day until 9:30 p.m. 24/7/365. Yep, that's my life. Which is a blessing and a curse since A) it gets me out of bed early to train but B) I'm constantly suffering from a lack of quality rest, evidenced typically by puffy raccoon eyes.

This morning was no different, although I tried a new tactic where I slept on the couch in my living room to avoid the usual bedroom barrage. That bought me until 6:30...when Bam-Bam ran full-steam into the living room and sailed across the floor in his tricycle. "FML," as they say.

Needless to say, I wasn't my usual energetic self when I put my car in auto-pilot and headed to Old Agoura and the Cheseboro Park trails off, well, Cheseboro. I met up with my coach, Gerrardo (pictured), and my fellow teammates -- most of whom I was meeting for the first time. It felt like the first day of school, except for once I was starring as the strange new kid.

We were to run 10-12 miles, which I hadn't done since the Agoura Half-Marathon in March 2008. The most I had run since then was nine miles, and that was just last week in Central Park (Reservoir loop 4tw!). But here was the catch, we were going to run at a 10:00 pace and keep our heart rates below 150bpm. And, we were trail running, which I hadn't really done before to this degree. Nevertheless, it seemed easy enough, I figured, as I have been used to training the old-fashioned way: Progressively killing myself a bit more with each workout until my body demanded a rest day. Apparently, that's not the best way to train. Wish I had gotten that memo sooner.

I started off fine for the first few miles. Heart rate was low and I was keeping up with this seasoned group of triathletes that included prior Ironman finishers and a pair of speedy sprinting sisters. I even had the audacity to remark that this was the easiest run I had ever been on.

Whoops.

Gradually, Gerrardo and gang pulled away. It seems that their speed at 150bpm is slightly greater than mine. By a wide margin. But I kept at it, meandering alone (about a minute behind) through the cold, dusty hills that still manage to showcase their beauty despite being the highest brush fire hazard imaginable.

My tardiness turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I entered a creekbed to find a deer and her little Bambi grazing quietly about 20 yards away. Mama deer and I locked eyes and had a brief staring contest before Mama realized I wasn't worth paying further attention to. She went on with her meal and I continued my steady-as-she-goes jaunt.

While this was the high point of my morning, a moment of Zen amidst about two-and-a-half hours of peaceful contemplation, the low point occurred 80% through the run when I failed my first test administered by Professor Gerrardo. After 9.5 miles, we came to a literal fork in the road, at which point I was given the option of heading back to the car with a respectable 10 miles under my belt, or sucking it up for 2.5 more miles to make it an even 12.

I may have been sore, but my heart rate was holding between 149-152 and I had more in the tank. I wanted to show these folks they weren't dealing with a softie. I wasn't a total noob.

Wrong answer.

The final stretch was almost entirely uphill, to the point where I had to walk most of it to keep my HR in Zone 2. When we reached the top of the first crest, I called out to Gerrardo and playfully chided him for not telling me about the ascents. To which he responded, "that's because you failed your first test of triathlon training: peer pressure."

And so, on my first official run with the ValleyCoach.com crew, I was taken to school.

I'm now a true freshman at Triathlon Tech University, and a victim of some light-hearted hazing.

But I ran two more miles than expected, and although the back of my left knee is sore and I've got a blister or two on my toes, I'm in good spirits.

Hazing never felt better.

359 days and counting.

It Begins

It is Friday night. It's 10:11 p.m. I'm in my bed, blogging. Most people are getting ready to go out for a night on the town. I'm 35 and not yet married, living 20 minutes from Hollywood. I should probably be doing the same.

Instead, I'm on the verge of sleep so I can get up early tomorrow to run 10-12 miles. After cycling 50 today from Agoura to Malibu by way of Westlake, Newbury Park, and PCH (where the image above was taken by fellow triathlete and all-around fantastic human being, Anat). After cycling 20 yesterday, on Thanksgiving, and cross training with my personal trainer and friend, Shannon, the day before that.

It's all with a bigger goal in mind. One in particular. What business author Tom Peters calls a Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal, or B.H.A.G.

Ironman.

Just typing those words makes my stomach churn just a bit. I was one of the lucky (crazy?) folks able to register for Ironman Arizona 2010 before it sold out in 25 minutes. And since this past Monday at 11 a.m. Pacific time, I've been wondering if I made the right decision.

I thought I was in good shape, until Wednesday night. That's when I met Gerrardo, my new triathlon coach. I've competed in seven triathlons so far, including three Olympic distance events. I typically finish as high as top 10% to 50% of the field. I train six days a week, up to 10-12 hours per week. But Gerrardo indicated that my training will need to increase substantially over the next year, as in closer to 20 hours a week by this summer. And, I'll need a new triathlon bike as well...this after I bought a 2008 Colnago Extreme Power earlier this year thinking it would be the last bike I'd ever have to buy. Fail.

(Nobody told me in advance that this sport is such a money pit!)

Yet I can't get enough. I'm compelled to rise out of bed early each morning to push myself harder than the day before, just by a little bit. But I often do it by myself, running lonely streets, swimming solitary laps and going on long bike rides with a handful of training partners.

That's where I hope you come in. Am I doing this alone? Am I the lone Iron(mad)man out there? Am I the only one wondering every morning "Why the hell am I getting out of a perfectly warm bed to beat myself up before (and sometimes after) work?"

I'm looking forward to chronicling this journey towards Ironman 2010. I want to capture those lonely training sessions, the quiet milestones checked off the list, the tune-up events, the lapses and maybe even a podium finish (or two?). I want to have something tangible at the end of the finish line on November 21, 2010 besides the obvious finishers medal, jersey, photos, etc.

I want to relive the memories one day. I want to show my kids (when I have them!) what can be accomplished if you put your mind, body and spirit into something that seems impossible. A B.H.A.G. I hope I inspire others to accomplish their own big-ass goals. And I want to share the experience with anyone who might be mad enough to come along for the ride.

I'm Ryan Schneider. I'm the Iron(mad)man...in training.

360 days and counting.

PS: I'm waiting for a more official website to be built, so this will be my temporary home until then. I'll keep y'all posted with details. I also have a nifty logo that I'll be sharing shortly, thanks to my buddy and amazing web developer/user experience guru, Ward.