Unbroken

Do you ever stop and think about what kinds of entertainment you gravitate towards?  Not just in a broad sense, the way my fiancee loves practically all "rom-coms" (romantic comedies).  I'm talking in more specific terms, like what kinds of stories do you find most appealing, entertaining, thought-provoking or otherwise engaging. For me, it's simple.  I love "against all odds" stories.  Overcoming the impossible.  Sports movies like "Rudy" make me bawl like a baby, but some of you know that already.  In short, I'm inspired by David, slinging the rock at Goliath's menacing head.  Heck, I've got an Underdog toy at my work desk!

I was thinking about this topic as I snapped shut a 400-page book I read in about three days. It's called "Unbroken," written by the same lady who wrote "Seabiscuit."  The story of "Unbroken" defies belief.  I still can't believe all this happened to one man, Louis Zamperini.  He went from being an Olympic miler in the 1936 Berlin Olympics to serving in World War II as a bombardier aboard a B-24.  Zamp, as he was known by friends, was shot down over the Pacific Ocean and survived with two others aboard a raft for nearly 50 days.  Then, he was captured by the Japanese and endured two years of horrible torture in POW camps in Japan.  When the war ended and Zamp finally came home, he had to battle his own demons and the nightmares of warfare before dedicating his life to helping troubled kids.

I find that stories like this fuel me for triathlon training and racing.  If Zamp can persevere against odds that far surpass anything I'll likely deal with, how can I not push a little harder or dig a little deeper -- even if it hurts or is inconvenient?  Lessons like these help at mile 17 of an Ironman.

We are by-products of what we consume, nutritionally and in other ways.  I enthusiastically consume anything with an overcoming adversity message.

Zamp is a survivor, and so am I.

137 days and counting.

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.

Not Like Last Year

I'm at my desk at work. It's 8 p.m. on a Friday.  I'll be on call until the wee hours as I head off for a press trip tomorrow in London and assets still need to be delivered.

I'm not complaining at all.  I work for a fantastic company, I love what I do and love my teammates.  I've been incredibly fortunate NOT to have to work late hours for quite a while now, so when I do, I really don't mind.

That's just life.

And it's a lot different from last year, when my luck and timing aligned to allow for a high emphasis on being the best triathlete I could be.

I don't think that's realistic this year.  I essentially have A-races in the life column: Wedding and honeymoon; Busy career year; and an actual Ironman.

Three A-level "life events" are starting to take their toll.  I can't remember the last time I missed two workouts in one week when illness wasn't a factor.  But that's just what happened this week with deadlines looming and a suitcase still waiting to be packed.  It's moments like this when my goal of breaking 12 hours at Ironman Coeur d'Alene seems farther away than ever.  Especially when I'm seeing slow running results from my ever-changing form, as was the case today with a lumbering 5.8 mile run in zone 2 that lasted almost an hour on the dot. And when I'm downing In N' Out Double-Doubles with fries late in the office instead of my personal strength training session, which I skipped.

What to do?

I think the answer is to simply accept that A) it's a busy time of the of the year in my industry, B) I'm lucky to have a job and C) this year ain't nothin' like last year.  I know I've mentioned the latter point before, but watching it unfold with an Ironman less than five months away is a little scary.  What else is coming?

Life, that's what.

This is normal!  Normal people work late hours and have lots of commitments. Abnormal people fit 15+ hours of training in on top of it.  Something's gotta give.

I'm not prepared to give in.  Yet.

How do you do it?  Especially those with families?

Maybe triathlon is a single-person's sport? A sport for those with disposable income and disposable time.   I dunno.

(Apologies if this is a downer.  I know that one of the things the people who read this blog appreciate is my honesty, so I don't want to sugarcoat anything.)

But wait! A silver lining!

Here's what I've learned from training and racing the past year-plus. YOU HAVE TO KEEP GOING!  You have to chip away at the problem.  Don't give up!  Even if the result isn't what we visualized, we still complete the journey.  That means a lot.  There is no shame in that.  No quit in that.  It's no different than those workouts when we just don't want to get in the pool or on the bike, or lace up those muddy shoes.  The results from those workouts are sometimes the best.  Why?  I think it's because there's no expectations involved.  You just shrug your shoulders and pedal.  And then you get there faster than you expected, wherever "there" is.

So that's what I'm going to do.  Shrug my shoulders and move forward the best I can.  I may not get there as fast as I'd like.

But I'll get there.

And I hope to see you there too when I arrive.

144 days and counting.

Get Better

Why do we push ourselves so hard as triathletes? Why do we spend our discretionary income hurting ourselves, mentally and physically?

What do we get out of it?  What are we looking for?

I think the answers to all these questions and more change over time.  We evolve from, "Because I want to know if I can do it," to, "Can I do it again?" to "How good can I do it consistently?"

But still, what's pushing us forward?  Is it desire?  Is it fear?  Is there some outside inspiration that propels us, ala Livestrong?  Does it come from within?  I wondered that today as I was enduring a painful Graston Technique in my ART session where a cold, blunt metal device that resembled a boomerang was being thrust back and forth into what felt like my hip bone.  I winced, grimaced and gripped the chair as I lay prone on my left hip.

Why am I doing this to myself?  What am I trying to prove that's worth all this pain?

For me, that answer, and the motivation that comes with it, changes every day.  It can be a song that fires me up.  An inspirational story pushing me forward.  An insult or jab from someone teasing me.  My coach saying something positive to me.  A trainer encouraging me to squeeze out one more rep.

But for every answer, there's a voice from within that says something.  A voice speaking to me.  "Go farther."  "Try harder."  "Push!"

And even on the ART therapist's table this morning amidst the pain and scowls, the only voice I really heard was, "Get better!"

Maybe that's what it's all about in this crazy sport. "Get Better."  Become a better swimmer.  Recover faster.  Learn something new about yourself. Explore a new trail.

Getting better hurts.  But I think the pain is necessary.

What do you think?

148 days and counting.

Flipping Through Memories

Perhaps you've noticed, but my friend and web developer Ward has been adding features to the blog site.  Popular posts,  recommended stories, "Like" on Facebook, and more is on the way. Soon, you'll see my 2010 race results and a 2011 race calendar (it's a small calendar this year!).  Before I could send everything off to Ward at Drawbackwards, I had to search for all my race results last year, along with  my race reports from each race.  I was reminded how great it is to have a blog, where I can just reach back into the vault and relive memories from races that seem to come and go so quickly.  The race ends, but the words live on.  And the emotions come rushing back.

I know some of you have mentioned that you're either just starting to blog now or are about to begin.  I think the archive of blog posts about your training and racing becomes the real trophies, the truest symbols of accomplishment.  The hardware gets put away in a closet, or maybe hung on a wall.  But lots of people get hardware.  Your story is your own.  What better gift to give yourself?

If you haven't done so lately, go back and check out an old race report.  See where you're at today versus then.  How have you evolved as a triathlete?

158 days and counting.

Avoiding the Lizard Brain

I don't want to write about triathlon training tonight.  I hope you'll indulge me for a moment, especially if you find yourself strapped to a desk during the workday. I've had a big plan to write at work.  I've been putting it off for the past week, often letting the excuse of  how busy it is in the office derail my best intentions.  After all, I felt needed with all the distractions -- whether they were in the form of people visiting my desk, email, phone, etc.

But the bottom line was that the important work wasn't getting done. One of my favorite bloggers, Seth Godin, refers to this as giving into the Lizard Brain.  This is the part of the brain that is purely emotional and often recoils in the face of danger or anything remotely uncomfortable.  I knew that I had more control over my schedule, but that I was giving into my own Lizard Brain by thinking all the distractions were diminishing my productivity.

So, I tried something new.  It may sound shocking, so brace yourselves...

I TURNED OFF EMAIL.

<GASP!!!>

Yeah, I know.  What a concept!  I'm not gonna lie, I had withdrawals.  I felt like I was missing out on fresh information, that maybe I was falling behind the loop of being "in the know."

That lasted around 30 minutes.  Then, I practically forgot about email.  And while I did check periodically throughout the day, turning off my email enabled me to enjoy one of my most productive days at work in several months. I researched, developed and produced my plan.  Finally.  And I even responded to the most important emails of the day after that, not to mention picking up the phone to call people to cut down on email traffic.  What a concept!

Let's turn this back to triathlon for a moment.  What is your Lizard Brain preventing you from confronting?  What should you be working on in your training that you're avoiding?  How can you reduce your distractions to focus on what's important?  What can you do to control your situation more effectively?

Don't give into the Lizard Brain.  It's slowing you down.

161 days and counting.

Chicken Salad Out of Chicken Sh*t

My morning bike ride started off poorly.  First, my buddy Frank and I were confronted with a fog bank so thick in Agoura Hills that we had to drive back over the hill on the freeway to higher ground to have enough visibility to ride.  But it wouldn't matter, as Frank realized once we prepared to leave that he forgot his shoes at home.  His day was over before it started.  On the day before his birthday, no less. Then, if that wasn't enough, I got a flat tire on my back wheel -- in the first mile of my solo ride.  I knew my back tire had a slight gash in it following my rainy Santa Clarita outing a couple weeks ago.  Yes, Frank suggested I replace the back tire but I thought I could get lucky and make it last a while longer.

Turns out Frank knows what he's talking about.

Fortunately, I noticed my flat about a block away from a cycling group preparing for its own Saturday morning ride. I was even more fortunate that my Fortius teammate Jason decided to ride with this group instead of our team -- he pulled up in his 4Runner almost immediately when I pulled up with my lame bike in the cul-de-sac.  Jason helped me insert an empty Clif Bar wrapper between my new tube and the tire to keep debris out for my ride back to the car.

That wasn't even the highlight of the pit-stop though.  I met Julie, who recognized me from my Fortius race kit and told me she was the person cheering for me at the bike turnaround point at Ironman Arizona.  I had never met Julie in my life, but she was a friend of my buddy at Helen's Cycles, Pete.  Pete told Julie about me and asked her to cheer for me that day.  This unknown cheerleader had remained a mystery for me since then, so I was excited to tell my new friend that hearing her scream for me at those lonely checkpoints truly boosted my energy and resolve heading back into the headwind.  If nothing else, that helped make my brief ride today somewhat of a success.  Saying "thank you" to Julie felt great.

So now that my bike ride was over for the day, I had a choice.  I needed to be back home in 1.5 hours for a family obligation with Steph.  I could just skip working out for the day and lament my bad luck on the bike, or I could try to squeeze in a trail run.

Even though I was bummed about not cycling with Frank and embarrassed by my choke-job on fixing my own bike in front of others, I decided to at least try to fit in a hilly trail run.  I'd have to drive another 30 minutes to the Dirt Mulholland trail, but I couldn't let the whole day be a loss.

I'm so glad I did!  FINALLY, seven weeks after Ironman Arizona, I enjoyed a run where my knees didn't act up!  Yes, my right psoas still felt tight but that was it.  Better still, my calves weren't screaming in pain from my new running technique where I'm trying to run purely off the balls of my feet instead of my old heel-to-toe strike.  Better than all that was my lower, calmer heart-rate on hills.  I felt like I was running slower, but still I managed to bang out nearly six miles in an hour on a hilly trail where my heart-rate only briefly visited zone 4 a few times and I typically stayed in the low-mid 140s.

To think I would have missed that experience had I sulked about my bad luck on the bike.

We often hear about how if you fall off the proverbial bike, you should get right back on it again.

Sometimes, maybe it's best when you fall off the proverbial bike, to simply ditch it and just change into running shoes.  Take what the moment gives you.  Accept it for what it is.  And plan a different route to achieve a goal.

164 days and counting.

Controlling the Uncontrollable

This ain't no 2010. Work is busier.  Multiple projects are shipping this year.  That means multiple business trips, something I didn't really have to contend with much last year, especially in the final six months of Ironman training.  Not so now.  In February, I'll be in London, Las Vegas and San Francisco.  March will see me in Austin, Texas (South by Southwest), and two weeks before my Ironman I'll be at the video games industry's largest trade show of the year, E3.  That will be great for my immune system.

I knew how lucky I was last year as the days went by.  Neither my job nor my personal life really interfered with my training.  It's only my second day back in the office from a prolonged break, and oh how things feel different already.  Though maybe the head cold I picked up while traveling in San Francisco for New Year's is contributing to that.

So what to do?  How to overcome?  I just spent a half-hour today talking to my team about finding new ways to look within to control a scenario -- even when they think things are beyond their control.  For example, instead of lamenting being sick at an inopportune time, maybe rest and nutrition played a factor as well.  Two things one can generally control.

So what can I control given my more demanding schedule?

-- How early I wake up to train.  Maybe I have to get up sooner to ensure I fit both workouts in before work so I can stay later in the evening if need-be.

-- What time I go to bed.  This may be tougher since Steph and I both work fairly long days and don't see each other much during the week as-is.

-- What I eat during the day, and at what times, to ensure I have sustained energy.

-- Accepting that I won't be able to complete every workout like I used to.  I need to be smarter.  I need to listen to my body more, especially now with some creakier knees.

-- Following workouts more closely and less freelancing.  My tendency would be to pack more intensity into each workout to make up for lost ground or time.  But I know the body doesn't train that way, even more so now that I'm reading Joe Friel's book, Your Best Triathlon.  I'll write more about that another time, but so far it's super helpful in filling in the blanks between the how's of training and the WHY.

I'll try to think of more ways I can control this situation, but if you have ideas based on what's worked for you, I'd love to hear them.

167 days and counting.

2010: The Ultimate Odyssey

I've posted 345 blogs since starting this journey last November, with at least three-dozen categories.  I've probably analyzed -- over-analyzed, actually -- every detail of my Ironman journey more than most.  And yet I'm having a very hard time encapsulating the past year for my last post of the year. I set big goals and went out and accomplished them, with a lot of hard work. Stephanie and  I resurrected a broken relationship, for the final time.  None of this journey would have been quite as special had I not restored that healthy foundation.  That alone made 2010 a total success.  The completed races, personal-best times, and finishing the Ironman truly fail to come close in comparison.  Make no mistake, I would have been an Ironman without Stephanie.  But I would have thought of her at the finish, every day leading up to that moment, and every day after it.  I would have chased a ghost the rest of my life, the worst kind too.  The "What If?" spectre.

I hate that ghost. I hate "What If?"  So I destroyed it.  And couldn't be happier.

I remember when I started the year though, skeptical whether Fortius Coaching could mold me into a better athlete. Uncertain of my own psyche following a devastating breakup.  I remember Coach Gerardo telling me I wouldn't even recognize myself physically, emotionally and mentally following Ironman.

Now a year later, I know what he meant, though I'm not sure even he thought my transformation would be this profound.  I truly do feel like a different person.  Perhaps this year was the biggest growth year of my life, which is saying a lot since I spent several months backpacking through Europe both with a buddy and by myself to start the 21st Century.  That trip was a deep transformational experience in a different way.  In Europe at that time, pre-Euro currency, pre-"smart" cell phones and everywhere Internet, I was alone.  I had to learn to rely on myself.  I built a foundation for adventure and extended my personal comfort zones way beyond my sheltered suburban upbringing.  I built the foundation for this Ironman journey too, a far more spiritual and metaphorical trip.

I wonder if my 2010 Ironman would have happened if it weren't for my 2001 adventure serving as the stepping stone.

A lot had happened in my life between my 2001 backpacker's walkabout and this year's odyssey.  During that span, I had many adventures, literally all over the world.  While I may have nudged my comfort zones ever further out professionally, and personally, I hadn't really ventured off the grid (in my mind, at least) into the Great Unknown since quitting my job prior to September 11. That spring I quit work, quit my apartment, quit my car payments, and donned a small bag filled with all the contents I would need to live.

50 cities, 12 countries, 90 days.  A different kind of triathlon.

And yet my preparation for and completion of Ironman surpasses even that epoch.  I NEVER expected my journey to Ironman to rebuild what had become an eroded sense of self-confidence, rekindle my passion for writing, stabilize my emotions and provide me with such a supportive group of friends and teammates, not to mention some of you readers out there.

My 2001 odyssey was an escape.  My 2010 odyssey was a gift to myself.

I hope 2011 brings more gifts, but most of all, I hope that if you haven't already you'll reward yourself with such a gift.  We all deserve it.  We deserve abolishing that "What If?" ghost, even if it's only for once in our lives.  To stand at the finish line, real or metaphorical, arms raised, screaming from a primal place, nothing can surpass that feeling. The feeling of personal victory.  It doesn't have to be an Ironman either.  It can be going for a promotion at work, or starting a new career venture, taking a chance with that cute friend you always liked but haven't had the courage to ask out. It can be ANYTHING.

Make the most of 2011.  Pick your Ironman and FINISH IT.

Wipe "What If?" from your vocabulary.

I'd say good luck, but you won't need it.

Enjoy your New Year's Eve celebration!  I'll be back on January 2, fresh from spending the holiday with future wife.

175 days and counting.

PS: For those wondering about my legs, it appears that I've got a problem with the tendons in my hips connecting my glutes and IT bands.  The acronym for that part of the body is TFL, which some of you (Robyn?) may be familiar with.  My ART specialist said it's hard to say for sure though because of all my other structural issues, but based on the pain there in today's therapy session, I'm guessing it's a root cause.  We'll keep at the recovery, and I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Promise Keeper

Just yesterday I agreed that I'd slow things down with my training to recover properly for Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  I agreed with Coach Gerardo that we'd seek injury credits for both the Los Angeles 13.1 half-marathon and the Surf City full marathon on Super Bowl Sunday. So what did I do this morning, in the misty cold rain in the Santa Clarita Valley?

I cycled 40 miles with Frank and Bob.

I can't figure out which promises to follow!  I promised myself I would attack bad weather days in Southern California to ensure I don't have any excuses for future races that throw wind, rain and hail at me like Ironman Arizona.  I promised myself I'd lay off the running and focus on recovery too, so does that mean if I take it easy on a 2-hour-plus ride in the rain that I'm "recovering?"

Isn't having fun part of the recovery process?  No heart-rate monitor?  Water and road grime on my face?  Clothes soaked?  Black toe covers turned brown with mud?

C'mon!  That's fun! How can I turn that down?

The whole reason we enjoy do what we do, at some level, is because this is supposed to be FUN.  Honestly, despite my "injury" I'm having a lot of fun.  Something I wasn't doing at the end of my IMAZ training. It was a chore.  Work.  Somewhat stressful.  Grinding.

The past few weeks, though frustrating, have been a lot of fun.  Even if I'm not following doctor's orders completely, I feel like I'm re-energizing myself in other important ways.

So which promise do I keep to myself?  To get better and hold myself back? Or do what I feel like doing because it's simply fun?

I know the answer lies somewhere in between. I know I haven't found the balance quite yet.  But like the biggest lesson I've learned about becoming an Ironman, the answer lies in the journey, not the destination.

So, I'll either get this recovery process thing right, or I'll misfire and experience a setback.

I don't know how this all will turn out.  But I do know that I had a lot of fun today on a rainy stretch of road in the middle of rural nowhere.

182 days and counting.