What a Surprise!

Stephanie pulled one over on me last night. So did my family, my friends, and my Fortius teammates.

I thought I was going to dinner with a couple of Steph's friends.  This was technically true, though about 50 other people showed up for what certainly was a surprise Ironman Arizona send-off party.

To make it clear, months ago I specifically told Steph NOT to plan any kind of send-off party for me, though it's tradition on our team to have such events.  My belief was that I've been enough of a burden with this blog, constantly writing about my thoughts and feelings to the point of people probably rolling their eyes with each new post.  That's honestly how I've been thinking about the blog towards the end of this journey.  I didn't want to ask anyone to do anything for me since I believe my friends, family, teammates and co-workers has been more than accommodating with my schedule and my crazy neurosis.  It's one of the reasons why I stopped tweeting every post.  In the end, I simply felt that the people who want to follow this blog do, and those who don't, really don't want to hear about it anymore.

But last night showed me that my grouping of true friends and family don't see it that way.  Which is a relief to me.  A huge one at that.  I haven't made people sick of me or what I have to say after all.

I was truly touched to see so many people show up to wish me well.  I was especially touched by my teammates' turnout, since the vast majority of them raced this morning in Malibu or Calabasas and opted to celebrate with me instead of going to bed early for their pre-race rituals. And many of my friends showed up whom I haven't been able to see in months due to my crazy training schedule.  That's the ultimate form of love and friendship.  Even when I know I haven't been quite there for them, they were most certainly there for me.

Even though I essentially didn't train this weekend (one hour cycling and one hour of yoga...taper rocks!), I still feel like I got a performance boost.  First, I psyched myself up by writing the initials on my shoes of some important people in my life and then I had the ultimate benefit of being stunned and humbled by the outpouring of support I'll have going to Arizona in just a few short days.

My energy level is up. My spirits are up.  My body feels good.  The culmination of more than 600 hours of training is at hand.  Race week is here, and thanks to many important people in my life, I am ready.

ONE WEEK TO GO.

Performance Enhancing

I was going to wait until just before the race to unveil my performance enhancing agent. I just couldn't wait.

The initials on the shoes above are for my grandfather, Jerry Schneider.  He would have LOVED seeing me at this race next week, along with grandmother, Sylvia.  My grandma is still alive, but my grandfather passed away more than five years ago from complications related to heart surgery.

Grandpa was as blue collar as they come.  The Cal Ripken of the automotive industry, showing up to work every day at our family-run repair business until the weekend before his surgery.  He was 83 at that time, and still savvy.

Grandpa's post-surgery illness lingered for almost a year.  Yet he fought every day to overcome it, and almost did.  There was no quit in him whatsoever.  There never was.

People keep telling me that no matter what I do during the final part of the Ironman, don't stop running those final miles.  Don't give up.  Don't quit.  My teammates tell me it will be easy to do so, as many other people will be walking and encouraging me to do the same.

I may be tempted, but all I have to do is look down at my shoes and I'll be fine.

Grandpa never quit.  Neither will I.

I've also got the initials of Brian Rever, one of my oldest childhood friends, on the back of my shoes.  Brian wasn't a quitter either, battling cancer for three separate bouts until finally succumbing in December 2001.  He was 27.  Brian had it rough.  Cancer is a nasty, nasty illness to watch let alone experience.  But with every round of battle, Brian gritted his teeth and did everything he could to get through it.  He may not have had the opportunity to live for very long, but he still taught me as much about the value of living and perseverance as anyone.

Same goes for my high school friend, Jason Moreno.  His initials are on the inside arches of my shoes.  Jason battled an exceedingly rare and aggressive form of cancer for around five years before passing away almost two years ago.  Jason was always the life of every party, with his wit and perverse sense of humor always looming large.  Along with his lanky frame.  If I somehow become despondent during the course of the race, or just need a pick-me-up, I know I can always think of what Jason would say to tease me or make light of the situation.  That easiness of spirit will come in handy next week.

Now I realize that to some this might trivialize the existence of three human beings.  Maybe it might seem I'm reducing their lives to mere initials on my shoes.  Those people are missing the point.  This is just one way for me to honor the memories and legacies of three men who affected my life.  Three men who can't physically be with me on one of the biggest days of my life.  Three men who valued what I value as well: Toughness.  Tenacity.  Willpower.

I hope to respond with an effort that will make them proud.  And I hope to run with the force of three hearts.

The strength of three.  That will be my performance enhancer.

8 days and counting.

Energized But Cautious

I enjoyed my fourth or fifth massage in as many weeks tonight, courtesy of Fortius teammate David via LA Body Mechanics. The effects are starting to pay off.  I feel more limber.  Less acidic.  My body aches less.

Combined with the reduced training over the past few days, I think I can start to feel my body replenishing its stores.  Which is what I'm supposed to feel at this point, by golly!

Now I'm just trying to stay focused on remaining healthy the next several days.  If I could live inside a bubble I would.  My boss is sick.  One of our creative directors is sick.

I got a message for y'all...stay AWAY from me!

And I mean that in the nicest of ways :)

To combat any potential problems, I'm taking an Emergen-C packet each day, along with my Echinacea  pills.  And my allergy medicine.  And let's not forget the beta alanine and asthma inhaler.

Yep, I'm going a little overboard.  But I don't want to leave any room to chance.  I can handle an injury at this point if that's what's meant to happen.  But an illness, or something as silly as a cold?  Man, that would just suck.  But, if it can happen to Chrissie Wellington, it can happen to anyone.

So, for now, I'll take each day as a gift of health and energy.  And hope I wake up the same way the next day.

That's all I can do at this point, right?

10 days and counting.

Colossus

When I was a kid, I was afraid of roller coasters.  The dizzying heights.  The sudden drops.  Going upside down! In thinking about it further now, perhaps I was afraid because I couldn't control the experience.  I was locked in, hurtled about every which direction, and blasted back to the platform dazed, startled and nauseous.

The coaster I recall being the most afraid of was Colossus, at Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia.  It towered over the freeway at the time, intimidating all who dared approach the massive structure.  There were also reports, as I recall, that coaster carts had fallen off in the past, killing people.  That didn't help my paranoid nature.

But the thing I remember most about Colossus was the first time I rode on it.  Sitting in the cart, scared and trying not to act like it.  Until the restraining bar was closed tightly on my waist.  Then, I started to panic.  There was no turning back!  I had to ride out this coaster no matter what happened. If I plunged off the tracks to my death there was nothing that could be done about it!  I was at the mercy of Colossus.

That's sort of how I feel today about Ironman Arizona.  I saw my bib number in the Athlete's Guide online at the IMAZ website.  For whatever reason, seeing that number, alongside the other 2,300 athletes, made me realize that I was committed to a 140.6-mile journey in 11 days no matter what.

It's amazing how "unreal" this event can feel because it's been so far off in the distance for so long. But now, like the roller coaster approaching off the freeway, it's here.  Staring me in the face.  Challenging me to step up and overcome my nerves.  To face the unknown.

The bib is my bar.

And ya know what?  I rode Colossus.  And eventually loved it. The rickety wooden coaster actually became my favorite at the park.  I just had to feel the ride -- the experience of it -- to know what to expect.

The IMAZ Colossus will be no different.  It's just that I don't know what I don't know about completing an Ironman.  But I will soon.

We're now about to hit the 10 day mark.  The cart is inching up the steep embankment towards the massive first drop.

Clink Clink Clink Clank Clank Clank ...

11 days and counting.

But Would I Do It Again?

People have been asking me a lot of questions lately about Ironman Arizona.  That's understandable. "How are you feeling?"

"Are you ready?"

"Are you nervous?"

I've had pat answers for all these: Fine, but getting more excited with each day.  Yes, I'm ready.  More than ready.  And yeah, I'm a little nervous too, though feeling much better now that I can change flat tires with relative confidence.

The one topic that has thrown me for a loop has come courtesy of separate conversations with two Fortius teammates: "Do you recommend training a full year for an Ironman?"

Honestly, that is such a tough question to answer right now.  As I mentioned to Joe tonight at one of my last Fortius-coached swims of the year, now is not the best time to ask me that.

I'll admit that I'm tired mentally after a long year of training.  I have to find new ways to motivate myself every day to train, even in these final stages.  Though tonight was a good night for confidence and morale building as I confirmed via a 2,000 yard time trial that I can indeed hit my desired swim goal in Arizona.  After watching the results from IM Florida and Silverman, knowing my Fortius teammates racing there are much faster than me, I wasn't so sure Coach Gerardo's goal time was reasonable.  I know it is now.  That's huge, just as my bike ride with Bob on Sunday restored my confidence on the bike.

But confidence-building like that doesn't come from just a few weeks or months cramming.  At least not in my case.  It's been a long, LONG road to get here, almost a never-ending road.  I've trained almost 600 hours since late last November.  I'm at the end of my line mentally and emotionally in terms of holding on to the passion for completing this massive challenge.  I need race day to come SOON.

Fortunately, it's rushing towards me like a 100-mph fastball.

That said, putting in all this time has allowed me to achieve milestones I never thought possible. I've made significant progress in each tri-discipline, progress I wouldn't have made had I not pushed myself as hard as I did.  Or taken a chance on Fortius.  From a purely physical standpoint, I don't regret the training regimen one bit.  I'm in the best shape of my life by leaps and bounds.  My 36-year-old self could kick my 16-year-old self's ass, and I was in solid shape as a kid!

As far as advice I'd give to anyone considering the same Ironman training schedule, I'd suggest asking and answering the following questions first:

-- What's your available free time?

-- Are you single?  What's your relationship like if you're in one?  How supportive is your partner?

-- What's your work situation like?  Hours?  Stress level?

-- What kind of prior training/athletic/triathlon background do you have?

-- Any significant milestones during the year besides your Ironman?  How will it affect your training?

How you answer these questions and others will determine how you can train for your Ironman.

So, would I do it all again?

Can I tell you in a couple months?

12 days and counting.

2 Weeks!

Two weeks from tonight, I'll be collapsed in my hotel room, hopefully elated with the performance I worked for and (I believe) earned. Yet it still doesn't feel totally real. For instance, despite a year of training, I felt a pang of anxiety when I realized tonight that the next Ironman on the official schedule is...mine.  There's nothing else to look forward to.  No other friends to cheer on.  No other teammates to send off.

It's just me and a date that approaches more quickly every day.

If today's workout is any indication, I'm definitely close to being ready.  Bob, my fellow Fortius and IMAZ teammate, joined me this morning for a full tri-workout.  We swam at Zuma in clear, crisp 62-degree water for 45 minutes.  I experimented with compression shorts in the water instead of a swimsuit, as well as compression calf sleeves. I liked it overall.  The calf sleeves rolled up on my leg a bit but I think that was after I took off the wetsuit, not while wearing it.  I think I'll go with that strategy at Ironman.  Any edge I think I can get.  Following a fairly leisurely transition (what a gorgeous day out!), I did my very best to hold onto Bob's wheel as we hammered out to Big Rock and back.  I succeeded for the first half of the ride as we belted out several 21-plus mph miles, but the second half of the ride, Bob stopped toying with me and simply took off.  He very well may break five hours for his bike split at IMAZ if he wanted to.  Finally, we embarked on a 90-minute run while trying to stay in heart-rate zones 2-3.  We were successful, completing just around 9.6 miles in that span on a flat course.  I needed that run following last Sunday's blow-up in Calabasas.  I know I can hold my heart-rate steady for several miles but I'll need the weather and wind to cooperate, as well as my own ability to stick to my race plan.  Today, the wind was moderate and the temperature was around 70 when Bob and I started running at noon.

Now, it's getting late (for an old guy like me).  I'm typing, reflecting about the past week.  With the exception of a couple monster swims, this past week truly felt like what I expected a taper should be.  Relaxed.  Moderate.  Fun.

With the occasional balls-out bike sprint thrown in for good measure.

14 days and counting.

Good Night

Just got home from dinner with my family.  Fantastic time filled with lots of laughter.  And lots of questions about Ironman. I've learned over the past two nights that spectating for an Inroman, for the uninitiated, is a daunting prospect.  I think Stephanie and my family is every bit as nervous about where to go, what to bring, how to act, what to do, etc.  It's stressing me out but at the same time it's humbling to see my core come together so beautifully just at the right moment. I'm excited for the big day, and it's invigorating to see that they're every bit as excited also.

On a different note, my daily tire-changing sessions with Frank are going well.  I've cut my tire changing time down in half in one day.  Frank timed me and I started at 4.5 minutes for one tire (not including reinstalling the wheel on the bike) and trimmed that to 2.5 minutes by standing instead of sitting and working over the wheel instead of parallel to it.  The other key I'm learning is that it's all about inflating the tire enough before inserting it into the tire.  Not enough air means the tire loses its form and it's tougher to cinch inside the rim.  Worse yet, it could pinch, resulting in the explosion "snake bite" (as Frank called it) the other night.

The more comfortable I get mechanically, the more relaxed I seem to get about the race.  That really was the only factor I was truly worried about at this point.  Wind, I'll deal with.  Heat, well, it worries me too but there's nothing I can do about that except slow down and grin and bear it.  Fixing flats and other mechanicals, that's something under my control.

Thank goodness for Frank.

It's late.  I've got a brick tomorrow and a full-tune up for the bike scheduled at Helen's.  My friends are racing Ironman Florida in the morning  I'll be tracking them too.

Good night, all.

16 days and counting.

Grouchy!

I was a big grump today.  And tonight. Why?

My swim sucked this morning.  I was lethargic in the water, almost a full 15 seconds slower in the same exact distance intervals I did on Tuesday.  The slower I got, the more frustrated I became.  The more frustrated I became, the worse my form became.  It was a downward spiral from there.  I just flat out didn't want to be in the water.  I was angry because swimming the equivalent of 80 football fields this week didn't exactly feel like a taper.  Then, fighting traffic to get to Griffith Park with enough time to cram in my hour bike made matters worse.  I honked my horn. Cursed slow drivers.  I was not pleasant.

Of course, my bike ride felt sluggish as well.  And, as you can imagine, I grew even more frustrated.  At least I fueled that negative energy into pedal power, hitting 25 mph a few times on the flats out of pure spite.

I think I greatly over-estimated what tapering for an Ironman would be like.

However, at the end of a long day and evening that continued to be stressful, I can hear my inner Coach Gerardo asking me one very important question: "How did you feel after the bike and swim this morning?"

Hmm.

Pretty good, actually.  Like I definitely could have kept going without any problem.  And the only way I would have experienced that feeling is by not quitting on myself today, which I avoided doing despite every ounce of me wanting to crawl out of the pool and go back to sleep.

Anyways, my point is this.  Even when a workout or two seems to fall apart. Even when training schedules throw you a curveball, you must keep going.  No matter how hard it is.  Now matter how much you want to quit.  Something good will come of it. Somehow. You won't know how, or when you'll even realize it. But it will come.

So even though today pretty much sucked all the way around, it was still a good day. I got through it.  I swam 8,000 yards in three hours over two days.  Not a lot of folks can say they did that.

Now leave me alone so I can go get some sleep.

17 days and counting.

Not Tapering Yet

If this is tapering, I'm not feelin' it yet.  I just got done with a yoga class that let out just after 9 p.m.  I ran about 8.5 miles this morning. And just now, I packed a full bag for a 2.4 mile swim tomorrow morning and an hour of intervals cycling immediately after.

This is tapering?

Sure, I had a (well-deserved) day off from training on Monday.  And, yes, I'll have this Friday off as well. Yet the intensity of the workouts still doesn't quite feel like what I expected.  Maybe my expectations were off.  I figured we'd be doing general maintenance work at this point -- just enough of a workout to keep my energy levels moderate so I'm not ready to tear the legs off a Cheetah barehanded.  After I catch up with it, of course.

Instead, I've got another 5:40 a.m. wakeup call tomorrow to plop into the pool.  I thought I was done with those for the immediate future.

Maybe the REAL taper starts next week when my training hours head closer into the single digits. I'm really looking forward to that.  What I'm going through right now feels closer to thinking you've finished a marathon and then the race organizers tell you, "Oh wait, it's actually 27.2 miles now.  You've got one more mile to go!"

UGH.

OK.  Off to bed.  More training beckons early in the morning.

18 days and counting.

300 Posts

OK, this is my 301st blog post, for those of you keeping score. That's 300 times over the past year where I gathered my thoughts, positive or negative, and shared them in this space.  If roughly each post is around 250 words (probably more, but we'll play it conservative), that's around 75,000 words combined.

That's also a lot of time to spend dwelling on one goal.

So, what have I learned so far?

-- I've learned that Ironman is much more about mental toughness rather than physical toughness.

-- I've learned I really don't like getting meals from bars and gels.  But if ya gotta do it, Clif Bars and chocolate Hammer gel work just fine.

-- I've learned that the hardest workouts, not the best workouts, are the most gratifying.  Sometimes just getting by is all the accomplishment one needs.

-- I've learned that the body is a delicate machine that requires constant care and feeding (literally) to perform at optimum levels.

-- I've also learned that ice baths are worth the shocking pain a man can get in the worst of places while taking them.

-- I've learned that just when you think you've spent enough on all the triathlon gear you'll need, there's something new to buy.

-- I've learned that without a supportive partner, friends and family, triathlon is the loneliest of pursuits.  And without that same support on race day, completing a triathlon is among the emptiest of accomplishments.

-- I've learned that how far I can push myself is a moving target based on my conditioning and my mental state.  In other words, it is up to me.

-- I've learned that while you have to do the actual work, a coach will make that work count for more.  I can't say enough good things about Coach Gerardo.

-- I've also learned that having a group of training partners to help push you forward is unspeakably valuable.  I can't imagine having trained for nearly a year at this point without them.

-- I've learned that honesty and vulnerability regarding my feelings make me stronger, not weaker.

-- I've learned that blogging helps me gain perspective on my training that in turn combats burnout since I can learn to take a small nugget from practically every workout.

-- I've learned how to take care of myself for the rest of my life by leading a healthy lifestyle.

-- I've learned that consistent physical training can help me make better, more creative decisions in the workplace.

-- I've learned to appreciate my training off days.

-- I've learned to tolerate my upstairs neighbor.  That little bitch.

-- I've learned that chlorine is powerful stuff.  It corrodes swimsuits, hardens skin and lightens hair. Yikes!

-- I've learned I'm a much different person today than I was when I started Ironman training.  Perhaps I've seen more physical, spiritual and emotional growth over the past year than during any other point in my life.

-- I've learned that no matter what happens on November 21, I've done the work to be called an Ironman.

Thank you for sharing that journey with me.

20 days and counting.