The Gift of Inspiration

There's lots I could write about from this weekend, especially the most grueling single bike ride I've ever endured -- The Mulholland Challenge.  If there's a hill in the Santa Monica Mountains between Topanga Canyon and Yerba Buena Road in Malibu, chances are we climbed it on Saturday -- to the tune of 112 miles and 12,750 feet of combined elevation. I video blogged the journey and hope to have some time to edit it together tomorrow evening.  For now, below is the  map of my ride.  Don't mind the heart-rate, as my heart-rate monitor was all over the place.  Don't mind the pokey pace, my Fortius teammates and I stopped quite often to take in the view, joke around and generally goof off.

(Quick aside: I think one has to make a decision before a long ride about whether it's a ride for time or a social group ride.  It can't be both. )

I'd like to focus on something more important for this post, and it has to do with one of my loyal readers, Laura.  While I tend to write fairly introspectively about what I'm going through -- hoping that maybe someone else is going through it too -- Laura is investing her time doing something far more valuable (in my opinion).  She's started a triathlon blog site, "Tri2fightlikeJoann.com" dedicated to the memory of her Aunt Joann.  Here is an excerpt from the About page:

"Joann Cotton was a mother to Claire and Taylor. A damn good mother. She was a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend. A twin. She was an Aunt.  She was my Aunt. She was an English teacher, and took such pride in educating students. She was selfless and cared about everyone else before herself.  She was competitive. She usually won. A true friend that was always there. She was funny and silly. She had cancer. And she kicked it’s ass daily. She never complained once, not once. She inspired me. And continues to inspire many, many others. She was as good as gold, yet nothing gold can stay.

Thank you for supporting Tri2FightLikeJoann. You are helping keep her memory alive, and celebrating the lives of all others with ovarian cancer.

And you are appreciated."

Laura, your blog site is beautiful.  And touching.  And humbling at the same time.  I am proud to know you, and plan to think often of Joann during the rest of my training.  In fact, if you have a sticker or something I can put on my helmet for Ironman Coeur d'Alene I'd like to wear it in Joann's honor.

In fact, I'd like to bring each and every one of you with me to Coeur d'Alene somehow.  If there's a cause or anything I can help shine a spotlight on, I'd like to do that.  When I first started this blog site it was meant for the kids I don't have.  To teach them about what accomplishing a large goal feels like.  How hard it is.  How wonderful it feels when the finish line is crossed, and yet how much it hurts to get there.

But, through the course of the last year and a half, I've learned this blog site is really about the relationships I've built with many of you.  An unexpected gift.  And that gift has worked both ways, in that Laura was kind enough to share with me that somehow my blog site inspired her to make something far more substantial, in my opinion.

Go Laura go!

So often the sport of triathlon can be a solitary pursuit.  But these are the stories, the inspirations, that really matter.

Thank you, Laura, for inspiring me, and hopefully many more people.

72 days and counting.

Deeper Calling

Tonight I progressed towards a promise I made at the beginning of the year that I would volunteer more often.  It took discipline to break away from the office around 5 to do it, but I'm really glad I did.  The shelter was busier than the last time Steph and I served meals, which was in December.  I must have personally served at least 500 meals in about two hours. Think about that for a second.

That's 500 people who were lucky enough to get a hot meal from the Union Rescue Mission (ham, corn, salad, potatoes, bread, pie) and presumably a cot to sleep in.  Men, women, children.  What about the rest of LA's homeless?  Where are they tonight?  While we're home, while I'm typing this very blog, where are they?  How are they keeping dry?  Warm?  Safe?

I wish there was a way I could make my training pay off for the homeless somehow.  I wish I could raise a couple bucks for every hour I put in the pool, on the bike or the trails.  Tie dollar amounts to what I'm doing for fun, and help put more food on people's plates, or more clothes on their back.

I'm going to think about this more in the coming days and see what I come up with for next year. My good buddy Rusty is doing some special work through Season 1 Racing now.  Maybe I'm next.  Perhaps a deeper calling to all this training is exactly what I need to stay motivated.

***

My new-and-improved running technique -- focusing on higher cadence and more elbow torque -- seems to be paying off.  I ran for 5.25 miles this morning (in my Newtons, no less!) as part of my brick workout in just over 40 minutes.  As you might recall, I was running 4.5 miles in 45 minutes not too long ago.  The best part of today's chilly jaunt: My heart-rate was consistently in the low 150s and my pace was a consistent 8:15-8:20. This is especially uplifting given the Cheseboro Half Marathon this Saturday.  A week ago I thought the sky was falling and I lacked motivation to train at all.  This caused Coach Gerardo to mention I was a little behind overall in my Wildflower Long Course training.  But now I feel re-energized.  And eager for competition.  My goal is to break two hours since I've never run a trail race before.  But the way I'm running since Sunday causes me to wonder if I can do even better.  Cheseboro is supposed to be a training run, but I know myself -- and you probably know me by now too.

1:50 or bust!

OK, that's all the energy I've got tonight.  Steph is watching Glee in the other room.  I can feel the gravitational pull through the wall.  Help me.  Please.

90 days and counting.

Coeur d'Alene Race Strategy Lesson

What a busy day.  First, the hot water was knocked out in our condo so that killed any chance of a morning workout.  (Sorry, I may do 12 hours of physical pain and mental anguish, but cold showers and I don't get along.)  Then, from there I've been non-stop in meetings, impromptu meetings and more meetings until around 7 tonight.  I've just finished dinner at home and am waiting around 20 minutes to get on the bike to spin for an hour, moving my strength session to Wednesday because I just can't fit it all in today. Fortunately, one of my meetings was an interview for my next Lava Magazine column.  I connected with Andy Potts, Ironman winner and 2004 Olympian. Andy has been tough to pin down for the past week so I jumped at the chance to talk. While I won't disclose what I'm writing about for April's Lava piece, we did get to the subject of race strategy at Ironman Coeur d'Alene during the final few minutes of our call.  That, I can share here.

Andy won Ironman Coeur d'Alene last year in a time of 8:24:40.  So I asked him what tips he might have for me and others who read my blog.  Andy advised me to use the course to my advantage, explaining that it's two laps on the swim, bike and run. He broke the race up into two parts for each leg, racing each lap like a half Ironman.  "Any tricks you can play with your mind to help overcome the obstacle (of an Ironman) really goes a long way," Andy said.  He added that the course is nice but challenging, a little hilly. Fortunately the crowd gets behind everyone, especially as racers enter the heart of town.

I may not have been able to train much today, but I feel like I got a great lesson in race strategy nonetheless.  I'll keep that in mind as I prepare for IM CDA, though don't worry, Coach Gerardo, I'll stick to our plan (for the most part!).

Now, time to cram in an hour of spinning.  Wish me luck.

92 days and counting.

Rough-Fit Running Lesson

Today I met with a high school friend of Stephanie's, Greg Moe.  He and a partner run a fitness performance training company in Tustin called Rough-Fit.  Greg has qualified for the US triathlon team in his age group for the Olympic distance and considers running one of his specialties.

I recently did some website copywriting for Rough-Fit, which you can check out here: http://roughfit.com/

In exchange, Greg was kind enough to offer me a coached running workout.  Since Steph and I were in the OC to visit some family friends, today was the day to take him up on it.  And I am so glad I did!

Riding alongside me in his Trek mountain bike, Greg counted my cadence, observed my foot striking, arm movement and body positioning.  It turns out I'm doing a lot more right than wrong.  My biggest accomplishment is that I've successfully transitioned to forefoot/mid-foot striking.  Greg mentioned that my feet are under my hips and that he even didn't notice the fact that my left leg is longer than my right.  In other words, my running is pretty balanced even though my right leg swings outward a bit (a structural problem, not necessarily technique).

Where I needed the most work was increasing my cadence, going from 84-85 steps a minute to 92 -- where Greg says most elite runners maintain their stride count.  I picked up the tip quickly without trying to raise my speed, which is a common mistake among runners playing with cadence.

Then, Greg worked with me on using my arms more to help drive movement.  He said that most runners think that swinging your arms forward makes you go forward faster.  But Greg argued that driving your elbows back, so your fingertips almost brush past your hips, is more effective.  The backwards drive of your elbows can help increase power and speed.  A great analogy he offered was that I could try to picture filing my fingernails on my hips to get my elbows back more.  I felt a difference most notably on some uphill drills we did in the Newport Beach back bay neighborhood.  Fortunately, Greg said my body positioning during these drills was upright, which further helped.

Finally, Greg gave me some pointers on how to run downhill more effectively.  In short, it's good to give in to the downward slope of the hill.  Let the hill and gravity do the work, and do not use your legs as brakes if possible.  Greg said he can gain up to 20 seconds on his mph-pace going down hill by letting his cadence and strides increase while keeping his heart rate the same or decreasing.  I tried this on a few hills and went noticeably much faster than I ever have on downhills. Granted, my heart-rate didn't subside during those intervals, but Greg said that would come in time with practice.

Despite some heavy winds, I ran at a low 7:00-7:15 pace for a few miles on the way back to my car, Greg pedaling casually beside me and both of us doing our best to beat the imminent rainstorm.  Today's lesson was a huge confidence booster.  Greg validated that my running form is largely on track, and with some tweaks and practice, I'll get faster.

I may not be the world's fastest runner, but my form is improving, just like in the pool.  And despite the workouts I've missed lately that may be key to preparing for Wildflower, Greg thinks I can definitely run in this weekend's Cheseboro Half Marathon trail run.

When I showed up to visit Greg I was on the fence. Coach Gerardo said I could do it but to see how I feel.  Now that I know I'm not a "running reject," I think I'm ready to give it a shot. It only took two failed running events (LA 13.1 and Surf City Full Marathon) for me to participate in a half marathon this year.

It's about time.

93 days and counting.

400 Blog Posts

There's a lot I could write about over the past two days.  I had a solid run on the treadmill on Friday, amping up the intensity while picturing all my friends racing at Coeur d'Alene that I want to beat.  (Yes, I'm a tad competitive, in case you didn't know already.)  I could write about how my running is falling behind at the expense of cycling and swimming, causing Coach Gerardo to question whether I could run a half-marathon next weekend or how I'd even do at Wildflower in a few weeks.  (Totally reasonable on his part, so no disagreements there.) Instead, I'm going to write just a bit about hitting the 400th blog post of the site on Thursday night.

I never expected I'd still be writing almost every day when I first created the site in 2009.  But here we are.  Honestly, I can't imagine not writing here!  The blog is as much a part of my training as my bike.  It helps me sort through the madness and monotony of Ironman training.  While I'm admittedly facing burnout issues at the moment, I think they would have occurred far sooner had it not been for being able to find something unique in almost every workout I complete.

What's especially interesting to me is what the next 400 posts might look like.  I think my full Ironman days will be behind me.  But I'll be attacking half-Ironman distance events and Olympics as fiercely as ever.  Still, I wonder if there's something more.  In fact, I know there is.  I just have to figure out what that "it" is.  Is there a charitable angle I want to explore?  Maybe.  A self-published book?  Possibly.I dunno.

I do know it's late and raining, and I'm tired.  Frank, Chris, Murray and I climbed 5,000 feet today and did close to 60 miles on the bike.  Then, I swam 2,500 yards, basically 50 minutes non-stop.  I'm mentally woozy and physically spent.

Back to the blogging thing for a moment.  If YOU were writing a blog, what would you be saying about your training right now?  What insights are you internalizing that could help you have a major breakthrough in your workouts? What's holding you back?  Why?  What's worth celebrating?  Why haven't you then?

If you haven't made one blog post there's never been a better time than right now.  Tri season is beginning.  It's just the start of something special for you.  Why not commemorate it with something that will last longer than the hat, T-shirt, visor or medal you'll receive after finishing the big race?  Remember, the process is just as important as the destination.

Perhaps the journey of 400 blog posts begins with a single word.

94 days and counting.

Falling Off the Fitness Wagon

(Note: Photos will be added tomorrow. I'm still on a plane on the way back from Austin!) I fell off the fitness wagon this weekend.  This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, my demise is rather spectacular.  In this case it meant lots of Texas barbecue (Salt Lick OMG!), lots of Amy’s ice cream (Oreo Speedwagon!), Shiner Bock beer (among my favorites!) and good wine.  It also meant very little training, to the tune of one hour, 15 minutes over the entire weekend.  The odd part is, my travel-driven fitness blunders usually happen when I have everything planned in advance.  Pool to swim in at hotel confirmed in advance.  Fitness center with all the good equipment confirmed in advance.  Gear packed.  Cycling class scheduled, shorts packed.  Even my Garmin watch was charged.

But my intentions were outweighed by reality.  Standing on my feet for hours on end at events and the show floor, being “on” for press and fans of our games, simply wreaks havoc on my back and legs.  I can run all day but can’t stand still!  I’d rather run 15 miles and be sore than deal with the stiffness of waking up after hours standing in one place.  Combine that with being in Austin for the annual music, film and games festival, South by Southwest, and combine that with daylight savings time…and boom goes the training dynamite.

What the heck was I thinking to even try fitting training in this weekend???

Now I know what is meant by the term “Triathlete Zombies.”  We don’t think practically sometimes.  We just have tunnel vision to find a way to complete the next workout.  Stay on schedule, at all costs. Even at the coolest gathering of live, authentic entertainment and kick-ass food in the country.  Meanwhile, life marches on, by and through our somewhat self-absorbed plans.

I should have known it was going to be a long weekend from the very beginning.

I had booked a bike at Mellow Johnny’s (Lance Armstrong’s cycling shop) in their Pedal Hard Training Center, where I was supposed to preview the Ironman Coeur d’Alene course via CompuTrainer.  There was only one problem – Mellow Johnny’s forgot to reserve a bike for me.  My original plan was to cycle for two hours, maybe more, run back to the hotel a few blocks away and then head to the show floor to report for duty.  That blew up in smoke, and in fact Pedal Hard training master Chrissie had to apologetically send me back to the hotel.  I was devastated, like going to the toy store and being told you brought a dollar too little to pay for that favorite action figure you’ve coveted all year.

But then, Cycling Karma smiled.

I had chatted casually with a few of the cyclists using the CompuTrainer equipment on their own bikes as they prepared for their workouts.  Two of them, Casey and an unknown but very kind cyclist on a sweet Felt/SRAM roadie, heard about my plight from Chrissie after I had left.  They both offered to let me borrow their bike for an hour.  So, as I was talking to Steph back at the hotel, dejectedly preparing to swim, Chrissie texted me back and told me to hurry on to the shop again.

That was probably my fastest mile all week!

Chrissie single-handedly saved my morning.  I was so grumpy and dejected at first that I was afraid it would affect my performance at the panel I was leading later in the day.  Missing workouts through no fault of mine is the worst!  But Chrissie doted over me for the hour at Pedal Hard, devising an intervals workout for me, instructing me carefully on how to balance my cadence, and gently urging me to, well, pedal hard, when it counted.  By the end I was spent.  She also advised me to look into a 25/27 cassette for the hilly Coeur d’Alene course as it might save my legs on the run.  Further, she had completed Ironman Coeur d’Alene and gave me all sorts of great advice on how to handle the bigger hills at roughly miles 18 and 72 (“just keep spinning,”)

I was preparing to pay for my session when Chrissie said it was on the house, for the “inconvenience.”  I told her it all worked out fine and I was more than satisfied but she insisted my workout was free.

My faith in all things Cycling Karma had been restored, Mellow Johnny’s remains the Mecca it had always been, and I can’t wait to plan my next trip there.

Thank you, Chrissie.  Thank you, Lance.

That would be the last bit of training I’d do the entire weekend.  An entire day of booth duty, a panel, press interviews and a dinner that lasted until midnight (at Driskills, DO recommend!) crushed me Sunday morning. I simply couldn’t get out of bed.  I knew it was a combination of daylight savings time, fatigue and really the heart of the matter, a quiet room with no Bam-Bam upstairs banging on the ceiling, no snoring next to me (sorry honey!), and the quiet hum of the air conditioning set at the temperature I love.  And the room was dark.  The trifecta was complete, Quiet, Dark, and Cold.  The perfect sleep cave.

Ain’t.  Gonna.  Move!

I’m torn about ditching my weekend training.  On one hand, I know I needed the rest.  I worked hard this week and through the weekend, on top of all the recent business travel.  I know the incremental gains made by training through the fatigue could have worn me down enough to be susceptible to illness considering all the dirty hands I shook (I set a world record for hand sanitizer used in a six-hour period), sweaty console controllers I held, and how much air travel I’ve done the past several weeks.  I feel like rest now will pay larger dividends later than trying to be a tri-zombie and cram in one or two more mindless workouts just because they’re on the schedule.  I also know that I’m not quite in the final critical three months stage just yet, and if ever there was a time to relax a bit, eat a bit more, enjoy a city I love just a bit longer and have a bit more fun, this was the moment. I just wished I had come to terms with that sooner, as in Saturday night when the streets were bustling with activity, rather than Sunday morning alone in my hotel room staring at my suitcase with the goggles and swim cap inside.

Will training a grand total of seven hours this week hurt me at Coeur d’Alene?  Maybe. How much?  I have no idea.  Do I care?  Kinda.  But right now I don’t regret it.  I made the choice.  I did what I had to do to listen to my body and my brain.  My heart didn’t object.  Everything said, “take it easy.”

Whether that’s experience or laziness talking, I’m not so sure yet. Though I can tell you that I’m ready to attack training as best I can in the coming days.  Maybe it’s guilty nervous energy.  However, I may ease back into it just a bit so it’s not such a shock to the system.  I’ve been in this place before, trying to overtrain to compensate for lack of activity (and stretching).  That’s how problems really start.

So while I’m eager to train hard, I know it can’t come all at once.  I’ll have to train smarter.

Maybe my Tri-Zombie days are finished.  Maybe I’m getting a little wiser, a little more relaxed  and gaining better perspective about this crazy sport.

Or maybe it’s time to just have a little more fun when I go on these trips.

Maybe falling off the wagon is a good thing.  After all, once you fall, you have to stop, dust yourself off, and take a look around before getting back on again.

100 days and counting.  Bye-bye triple-digits.

Mile High Post

Greetings from 28,000 feet! (when I was originally writing this post...) Airline wi-fi rules.  It's pretty much the only part of today that has, it seems.  Everything has been a struggle. Consider:

-- Electronic car key fell apart this morning on way rushing to pool.  Fixed it though.

-- Going from car to pool, the strap on my duffel bag snapped.

-- I lost my toiletries kit at the gym during my lunch-hour workout.

-- Checking into my Southwest Airlines flight became a disaster as the entire national reservations (and online check-ins) network was down.  Had to resort to my co-workers printing a temporary boarding pass to get me to the gate, where I then had to wait in another long line to get a manual boarding pass.  Made the flight though.

It's been that kind of day. But it's also been the kind of day where I was able to spin on the bike, swim 2,500 yards in the pool AND squeeze in a killer strength-training session from Shannan.  So it wasn't a total loss.  However, I also think that trying to fit in all these workouts amidst a busy schedule can be counter productive.  Here I am rushing around like a lunatic, working, juggling, training, helping with wedding planning, and things fall through the cracks.  Keys break.  Bags snap.  Razors get lost.  My patience is tried.

Is it worth it?

I'd like to quickly shout "Yes!" and explain how training can change the entire outlook of your day.  But today, in this instance, I think it caused as many problems as it helped alleviate.  That said, I wish I could connect the dots better when it comes to taking the lessons from triathlon training and applying them to my life.  In the pool, for instance, slower is sometimes faster.  Gliding on the water and extending your arm further before the underwater pull can shave time.  So why can't I do a little more with a little less? And what would that mean in this instance?  Fewer workouts?  Less time in each workout?  Skipping a workout?  Probably.  Yet, I can't.  I'm addicted.  I hate missing a workout, and yet at the same time I can't stand feeling that way.  Sometimes I almost feel trapped in my training.

I'm excited for Ironman Coeur d'Alene. I really am.  But I'm looking forward to taking a bit of a relaxing break afterwards.  There's got to be a better balance, though there are no compromises when it comes to Ironman training.

112 days and counting.

Peeling Away the Past

I could write about my three workouts today -- morning run, lunchtime yoga or evening swim. The latter pushed me to the brink of nausea following some Indian-spiced lentil soup that repeated on me towards the end of one of the more grueling workouts I can remember. Instead, I'm going to focus briefly on doing something small that probably says so much more.

Finally, after three months (almost to the day), I removed my Ironman Arizona bib number sticker from my Cervelo.  I was re-affixing my cleaned Speedfill bottle to the bike when I stared at the sticker and simply realized, "it's time."

I don't need the physical keepsakes to remind me of the accomplishment.  And there's so much more to look forward to, like more breakthroughs in training and my upcoming races at Wildflower and Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  Perhaps the only way to truly reach forward is to let go of what's behind.

I did that tonight, without fanfare (well, outside of a blog post!). Perhaps it's truly the final step in what has been a much longer recovery from an Ironman than I ever honestly expected. It's been far more of a physical and emotional roller coaster than even the original training itself.  At least with Ironman training it was consistent and I had a real idea of what to expect.  Even though Coach Gerardo told me that everyone recovers differently from an Ironman, I suppose I just had to experience it for myself.

But I think, with a long pause and some hesitation in my inner voice, I can close the chapter on the 2010 race season once and for all.  I truly can live in the here and now.

So while it seems like it's just a sticker, to me it's something bigger.

I've finally peeled away the past.

119 days and counting.

That's So Last Year

This year is like a small child, young and feisty, keeping me on my toes constantly.  Last year was like a senior citizen, consistent, and predictable (and there were even a few moments that required Depends). As a result, I've had to constantly balance and juggle priorities, which has meant skimping on the blog lately.  Two business trips, wedding planning and Ironman training will do that to a guy.  I thought about my failing juggling act while  in the recovery phase of my 73-mile bike ride with Frank today through the Conejo Valley.  Keep in mind the "recovery" was approximately half the ride after climbing 900 vertical feet in just under four miles.  As you'll see in the embedded Garmin workout report (which includes post-ride run data), I kinda overdid it with my heartrate, which skyrocketed to 178 bpm and left me blasting out primal yells to psyche myself up and keep from getting off the bike and walking.  The grade, according to Frank, was 23% at one point on the climb.

When I wasn't coaxing my legs not to cramp over the remaining few hours of the ride, I was analyzing my performance on this very hill compared to less than a year ago, when I recall scooting up like a gazelle and onward with my workout.  I was also reminded of "last year" by today's Firecracker 10k run in Chinatown, which I didn't attend.  Last year, it served as a pivotal moment in my training, the last big run before tapering for the LA Marathon.  This year, I would have been in no condition to run the race at all.

Which led me to an observation that hopefully may serve as a pithy reminder for all of us struggling with "last year":

Where you were isn't where you're at.

It seems so simple, but yet it was powerful enough for me to let go of "last year" on the spot.  I can't keep comparing myself to the past. I'm a different athlete.  With different priorities, different schedules, and a different life.

Though I slogged home mired in the small chain and managed to eke out a run at the goal zone 1 pace, I felt lighter.  I'm no longer bearing the burden of meeting unrealistic expectations for myself based on last year.  This season is already so much different anyway.  Surprisingly, it's actually more mental than physical.  Last year was all about "Can I?"  This year, it's about, "How will I?"  There's a big difference.  The first implies doubt or uncertainty about reaching the finish.  The second implies devising a new plan to reach an achievable goal. That's what it's all about now: goal planning.  Smarter, not harder.  Efficiency. Calmness.  Confidence.  Even when injury, inconvenience and illness rear their monstrous heads at the worst possible times.

So, the next time you worry about where you're at compared to where you were, stop.  It's a false comparison.  Where your'e at is where you're at.  Plain and simple.  The past won't make you faster. Or stronger.

But it can make us all wiser.

128 days and counting.