Defining a Legacy

I was listening to sports radio (Colin Cowherd) this morning on the way to the final day of E3, the video games industry mega-trade show. He was talking about an Orlando Sentinel newspaper column that indicated LeBron James' entire career legacy would be defined by his performance in tonight's Dallas-Miami NBA Finals game. It got me thinking. Are we as triathletes defined by our event performance? Or one event in particular? If I fail at Ironman Coeur d'Alene does that mean my triathlon career is a failure? What about all the hard work that is poured into getting to that moment? Does it not mean a thing?

I think not!

Only the person creating the legacy ought to define the legacy. With his or her own imprint. And that imprint is made with the hundreds upon hundreds of hours of training -- whether for school, or work or sports.

Then, I got to imagining what it would be like to wake up the next day after a poor Ironman performance and read all about it in the blogs and news sites. That my legacy is defined by that moment. That would be tough to overcome. I guess it all comes down to expectations, and internalizing others' expectations instead of focusing on one's own goals. This is an important point for all us triathletes (and my fellow IM CDA competitors) to remember in the coming weeks. No matter what happens on race day, we all put in the hard work to get to that moment. Sure, it's disappointing not to hit the time goal you trained for -- I know, I've been there. But it doesn't mean your "legacy" has to be tarnished. Your legacy is reaching high for a goal, sticking with it, FINISHING the race and still being known forever as an Ironman.

THAT is our legacy. Nobody can take that from us.

17 days and counting.

PS: This is my run data from this past Sunday with Jason. Jason, this should help give you an idea of why the Garmin 310x rocks!

Standing at the Mountaintop...Again

Rejoice!  Ironman Coeur d'Alene taper has begun! After a Saturday of cycling and running seven hours and climbing 7,000-plus feet and a Sunday of running 13 miles and swimming close to 3,000 yards, I stand on the precipice of peak physical and mental fitness.

I am ready for Coeur d'Alene.

Earlier this week, I struggled with my personal trainer telling me I'm "just not cut out for running."  I've turned that into fuel for my fire, and a new mantra:

"I may not be a runner.  But I am a runner today."

That's how I felt as I ran the hills of Calabasas with my buddy Jason today.  I was planning on a mild, flat tempo run but Jason had other ideas.  He's gearing up for his first half marathon at Dirt Mulholland and wanted some climbing work.  I obliged, and I'm glad I did. While I think the workout was meant to be a confidence boost for him, it certainly turned out to be the same for me too.  We did some serious climbing today up Mulholland and some hilly neighborhoods near Calabasas High School.  My body held out just fine, as did my heart-rate.  Perhaps I pushed just a bit harder than I would have on my own, but having the company and the challenge of running with a friend made it more than worthwhile.

That's been the biggest difference between my final build phase for Ironman Arizona and Coeur d'Alene.  For my first Ironman, I trained at the same course (dreadful Fillmore), largely by myself.  This time, my big bike workouts have been at springtime century events, heavily supported by teammates and new friends I've met along the way.  My workouts have remained fun and challenging, not grueling and mind-grinding. The misery of peaking before IMAZ has been replaced by firm resolve to put my head down, shut up and simply get the work done.   To be fair, I also think it helps knowing what I'm up against in my second Ironman rather than staring into the darkness of potential failure and personal embarrassment of failing to finish my Ironman.

No such demons this time.

I have pretty pictures to support this blog entry, but alas I'm in the office at work now (10:30 p.m.)  preparing for tomorrow's epic E3 day of announcements.  So, those pretty pictures are going to have to wait until tomorrow.  In fact, this week is going to be a crapshoot on blog posts.  As I've mentioned before, this week is like the Super Bowl of the videogames industry, and our company is smack at the proverbial 50-yard line.

Thank goodness my build phase ended one-day before the madness. But where will I find time to rest?

Haven't figured that one out yet.

22 days and counting.

What Not To Say

Trainers are supposed to make you stronger.  Faster.  More powerful. They're not supposed to bring you down.  There's plenty of other ways and other people who can do that.  I'm not paying them though.  With that in mind, I'm annoyed with my own strength trainer today.  We've trained together for years now and I suppose we have that kind of relationship where perhaps she feels like she can say anything and it'll be OK.

Well, three weeks before an Ironman and it's NOT OK to tell me you don't think I'm cut out for running and that after the race I should stop for a few years.  I don't need to hear that right now!  Yes, I'm sure it's obvious to her that my skeletal structure is placing added stress on my hips.  Perhaps that is why I consistently have tightness in my hip flexors.  But so many other people do too.  That means nothing.  And the last time I checked, my trainer isn't a doctor so she can't say for sure.

Of course, my trainer isn't the first person to tell me it's somewhat of a miracle I can run at all.  My ART therapist told me the same thing earlier this year.  But my ART therapist nurtures me back to health, asks me questions about how I'm feeling, and leaves it at that.  He hasn't made any sweeping statements that would tug at my self-confidence in the dark hours of an Ironman.

Fortunately, I've learned a thing or two about mental training for an Ironman.  I feel very fortunate to have interviewed the top pros in the sport to learn how to prepare mentally for a race and deal with the pain and suffering that an Ironman brings.  Chrissie Wellington taught me how she creates a mental bubble for herself, only allowing in positive energy and comments while shutting out negativity. Today, after my strength workout, I created that bubble for myself.

I just thought I'd never need to use it because of what someone in my inner circle of supposed supporters said to me.

Being a good trainer has as much to do with how you communicate with your client as the kind of routine prescribed.  I've stuck with this person for years, through injuries likely caused from over-exertion, over-use of heavy weights, and over-use of a muscle group.  Still, I've been loyal.  But something as simple as a simple comment made me re-think the relationship today.  I have one more strength training session left at my work gym.

It may well be my last.

I know I have limitations.  I just don't need the people trying to build me up to inadvertently tear me down with a careless statement.

For now, I will do what I do best, use this as fuel.  You don't think I can run?  GOOD.  Then when I crack a 4:20:00 at IM CDA we'll talk some more. I know that's not a record-breaking time, but it would be a PR by a long shot for me and I think I'm just ready to do it.

Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened to me. Because now I'm mad.

And you wouldn't like me very much when I'm angry.

25 days and counting.

PS: Sorry for not writing last night.  I was wrapping up my column with Chris McCormack for Lava Magazine Online. It should be running tomorrow.  Stay tuned for it!

Eat, Rest and Be Merry

On my recovery day from IM CDA Peak Week #1, Memorial Day, I ate, rested and was generally very merry.  That's partially because I ate a lot of food.  I'm paranoid about keeping my weight up heading into IM CDA.  I'd say I'm more paranoid about that than whether I'll finish the race!  I'm not sure that's a good thing, but my pet theory is that with a little more weight (even fat) on me I may have more energy to burn on race day. And with a little more energy, I may go just a bit faster for longer. For those of you with a medical background, is that sound thinking?

We're talking about 5-8 extra pounds at this point, and 3% extra body fat from where I was at IM AZ in November.  Then I was sporting a rather unhealthy-looking 7% body fat count, and my weight plummeted to 127 pounds on race day.  I'm 5"7 so every pound lost starts to show itself.  I heard more comments after the race than ever before in my life about how gaunt I looked.

So far, I haven't heard any of those comments this season.  While I may not be quite as defined in my midsection, I've kept he weight on and my speed has remained essentially the same.  I think my strategy is working.

Still, I'm quite susceptible  to losing a lot of weight quickly. For example, after the Heartbreak 100 on Saturday, I went from 135 pounds that morning to 132 pounds the next day.  That was with at least two full meals post-race and three snacks -- two of them in the middle of the night.  Tonight, after two chicken breasts, a burger on pita bun, corn on the cob and two well-deserved pieces of birthday cake, I'm back to my goal weight of 137 pounds.

Maybe it's placebo, but because I think I look better, I'm feeling better.  I seem to be recovering very well today and I'm eager to run again tomorrow.  I don't recall ever being eager to train late last October and into November before IMAZ.

The next challenge is going to be resting adequately.  There's a Memorial Day party going on across the hall, a rooftop party.  Lots of drinking, shouting, and laughing.  Should I be the old person who shouts out the window to shut up, or the cool person who turns up the fan a bit higher for added white noise and just take a noisy night.

Maybe it's my full tummy, but I'm in a giving mood tonight.  After all, if I wasn't going to bed early, counting every calorie and analyzing my daily scale check-ins as if I were a boxer before a fight, I'd be right there partying with them.  And seeing as my Ironman is under a month away, I may want to keep that party card in check for a celebration when calories won't really matter at all.

28 days and counting.

Sledgehammer

A lot happened this weekend, this epic weekend of Ironman Coeur d'Alene training. I was trying to make some sense of it Saturday afternoon, driving home from Frazier Park (an hour north of Los Angeles) after the Heartbreak 100 century ride.  See, I was feeling pretty damn good about my performance there.  Not because I was particularly fast on the bike, but because I had enough energy left AFTER the bike to run for 50 minutes at what would have been close to a 4:30 marathon time.  That doesn't seem like much, but A) it would be my marathon PR and B) that came after climbing nearly 10,000 feet on a chilly day.  Speaking of chilly, it was so freakin' cold that I bought an extra pair of arm warmers and used them as calf warmers! I rode the course with an undershirt, a jersey, a fleece jacket, a wind breaker, leg warmers, arm warmers and arm warmers on my legs.

Back to the ride itself. What changed for me? What worked? Why? The trick for me was actually listening to my coach and walking (GASP) for a full minute after every nine minutes of running.  Going slower to ultimately go faster. It never makes sense to me but yet it works. In fact it made a huge difference, especially on a run that featured nearly 500 feet of climbing in the first two miles.

I had broken with my tradition, finally, of hammering on a bike ride only to fade on the run.  Instead, I stayed within myself, tough as it was to be passed, and conserved energy.  Still, I managed just over seven hours on a tough course -- which really wouldn't have been too much slower than what I would have managed going a more aggressively.

Which brings me back to my car ride home.  I was flipping through radio stations, done reflecting on the day and needing a mental break.  Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" came on.  Huge smile. Radio dial cranked up.  I had my new mantra:

"I've kicked the habit Shed my skin This is the new stuff I go dancing in, we go dancing in Oh won't you show for me And I will show for you Show for me, I will show for you"

If you saw a dude screaming and dancing in his car on the 118 Freeway around 6 p.m., that was me. I know it's a little corny, and I know the reasons behind the actual lyrics (I think it's about drug addiction) are very serious.  But for me, on that drive home, I felt like I had finally kicked my own stupid racing habits and was ready to take the next step forward in my tri-career.  It felt really good.  Like if I take care of myself -- if I show for you -- then my body will show for me, and my results will be better come race day.

The rest of Saturday and into Sunday morning was spent recovering from the ride and run.  While Heartbreak 100 isn't nearly as difficult as the Mulholland Challenge, it still took its toll -- most notably on my outer right knee area.  I woke up stiff and sore, and definitely not feeling like running for 2.5 hours.  I texted Gerardo to ask if I could skip the run, as much because I liked the confident feeling I had from the day prior and didn't want to be dragged back to that dark place of self-doubt following another sloggy bonk-fest.

Coach wasn't having any of that.

"Push through" was essentially the only text I got back. A man of few words, Gerardo is. But he knows which are the most important words.

So push through is what I did.  For 2.5 hours exactly in the Calabasas area.  Granted, I only climbed roughly the same elevation as yesterday's 50-minute run.  But, once again the walk a minute every mile routine paid huge dividends. My heart-rate never felt out of hand and I'm confident that if I can stay within myself on the bike ride that I can enjoy a marathon PR by a long shot.

As we all know though, Ironman can throw anything at you on race day.  So, I'll be prepared for that.  But today, following the run AND a 3,000-yard swim immediately thereafter, I felt refreshed.  Not exhausted. But happy.  Almost joyous.  I got through the weekend.  I learned about myself.  I learned that if I hydrate constantly (five full bottles on the Saturday bike, two full bottles for today's run), stay cool (literally), pop lots of Endurolytes, and stay focused and measured on the bike, I can have a GREAT day at Coeur d'Alene.

I didn't feel this way at the peak of my training last year heading into IMAZ.  Granted, we still have one more giant training week left, but if I can maintain this outlook and simply smarter training then I'll be quite confident and prepared.

A wiser athlete.  More humble.  But I'm carrying a sledgehammer filled with confidence and experience.

29 days and counting.

1 Month to Go!

Of course, you wouldn't know it's one month until IM CDA as once again my math skills are subpar.  My internal counting clock is off by a day. Let's hope I show up on time in Coeur d'Alene!

Today, Coach Gerardo shared the rest of my schedule with me leading up to the race.  This week is about 21 hours, next week is around 18 and the remainder of my training will hover in the 12-13-hour range.  So, two more big weeks and then we'll ease off the gas.  Then again, I've never quite felt my foot on the physical accelerator that much this season.  That's not to say I haven't been training hard -- I've given this everything I've got in the tank just to survive it all.  But it just goes to show the difference experience can make.  The stillness, relaxation and sense of confident purpose is having a real effect on my body, allowing me to keep weight on more easily this time around while remaining "dialed in" for race day.

If race day were tomorrow I'd welcome it with open arms.  Unlike last season towards the end of Ironman training, I don't feel like I'm cramming for a final exam with the last big training sessions.  Look, I've been on a performance plateau for around six months now.  An extra big bike ride or long swim won't make or break my Ironman, so I might as well chill out about the whole thing.

One month to go. What will I be feeling and thinking at this time in June?  Will I be celebrating finishing the race the way I intended, or will I be glad just to get to the finish line?  During my training workouts, when I have more time to let my mind wander, I think I'm going to visualize going through the entire race.  I keep reading and hearing pro athletes and coaches talk about the importance of visualization.  This Saturday, when I'm participating in the Heartbreak 100 ride in Lebec, will be a good time to start.

One month to go.  I'm savoring every moment.  Every memory.  Absorbing every detail of every workout I can.  These are likely the last real days of having the freedom to train like this for many years to come.  Sure, I'll do Olympic triathlons and 70.3 races, but maybe not an Ironman.  I've said that before.  So even the hard workouts are becoming more enjoyable.  Just for the sheer joy of having the free time to do them.  For doing something for myself.

One month to go.

31 days and counting.

What is Our Formula?

Today at work, I was analyzing what makes for an iconic enemy in video games?  Is it a signature trait? If so, what kind?  Does the enemy have to be conversation-worthy?  I think so.  How does perceived danger or threat play a role?  There's probably a direct ratio to the threat level and the iconic nature of that enemy. Then, I began to wonder if WE have a formula?  What makes us iconic as triathletes?  What makes us Ironmen and Ironwomen?  For starters, we'd have to include willpower.  Without willpower, there's no way any of us would be able to handle the training, and the sacrifices that come along with it.  Next, I'd say athleticism.  While we may not be the second coming of LeBron, Carl Lewis or Michael Phelps, we each exhibit athletic qualities that enable us to swim, bike and run for long distances.  We couldn't complete a triathlon without being athletic even at the most base levels.  Finally, I'd assert that being an Ironman or Ironwoman requires a sense of fearlessness.  We are unafraid to pursue our dreams.  We are unafraid of failure, though it may keep us all up at night or force us to question our sanity in the moments before a race starts.  Yet, despite that fear, we splash into the water with hundreds -- sometimes thousands -- of strangers.  Knowing that we will be kicked, grabbed, clawed and poked mercilessly for what feels like an eternity.  Fearlessness leads to signing up for a second Ironman event even before the first one is completed.  Or is that stupidity.  No, it's fearlessness.  I think.

But what do you think?  If someone were to break you down as a triathlete and try to isolate the essential qualities that make you a triathlete, what would those qualities be?  For now, I'll start the discussion off with the following theorem -- we'll call it Schneider's Law:  M-dot = W + A + F x 2.4 + 112 + 26.2.

What's your Law?

32 days and counting.

What a Difference 6 Months Makes...

It's finally here. The final few weeks of demanding Ironman training.  The early mornings.  The late nights.  Cramming work, writing, wedding and family in between.  Twenty-one hours of training scheduled this week, and it's not even my biggest week yet.

Sorry, friends, see you at the end of June.

It sucks, but that's honestly what it takes at this point to finish the journey.  Focus.  Discipline.  Patience.  Resolve.  That applies to the workouts themselves.  No need to be a hero at this point in the training. If Coach Gerardo says to stay within zones 1-3 on a 2.5 hour run (like today), then that's exactly what I do. The result this morning meant a relatively pedestrian 2:13:04 half-marathon on the Griffith Park long course trails, with a couple golf course loops thrown in for good measure.  I know I can run faster, but not while keeping my heart rate down.

Welcome to my Ironman marathon pace.  Once again, physically I see I'm more than capable of a 4:15-4:20 marathon if I don't go crazy on the bike.  I ran 9:15 miles with 15 second walking rests at each mile marker.  Normally this would be a disappointment.  But since I know what to expect come race day, I would gladly GRATEFULLY take this pace.

All of this is besides the point though.  Race day is just outside of a month from now.  Last time at this point, I was practically panicked inside about possibly not finishing or disappointing myself, or even you Mr. and Ms. Blog Reader.  Not this time.  In fact, I'm honestly surprised how mellow I am about being in the final crunch right now.  It's seriously no big deal.  I remember, and I'm sure Coach G does too, that last year I was pretty much a whiny bitch about all the pain and suffering associated with the training. "Why are you trying to kill me???" was a common question I asked.

This year I'm not so cocky as to say "Bring it on!"; rather, my attitude is, "Oh, OK.  I've done this workout before.  Cool."

I truly didn't expect to be this relaxed.  Whatever I do in the coming weeks, the goal is to stay that way.

Chillin'. Sleepy.  Another brick workout at 7 a.m. tomorrow.  Bedtime.

33 days and counting.

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.

Where the Heck I've Been...

Where have I been? Where haven't I been since the last time I wrote?

This video blog attempts to explain!

Also, here's my Garmin data from the Palos Verdes Half Marathon, in context now with how I chose to run the race.

It's good to be back!

37 days and counting!