Friends

No workouts to report. Just a fantastic dinner with good friends, John and Michelle.  I consider myself lucky that I have such close lifelong friends in my life.  We spent hours eating, drinking, talking and laughing.  I had such a good time that I felt like I was on vacation.

Hold onto those friends.  It can be so hard to do that though with all this triathlon training.  It feels like some friends -- close ones even -- get left by the wayside, like bystanders becoming a blur as you speed by on the TT bike.  It's not intentional.  It's life.  It's changing priorities.  Shifts in gears and focus.

Some people are worth slowing down for.  Some experiences are worth slowing down for.

It's not often I can say that I feel truly enriched after a meal.  When the conversation and company is every bit as scrumptious as the grilled swordfish and homemade pesto.

Tonight was one of those nights.  I am grateful.  I think I appreciate them even more because I know how rare and special such an experience is.

215 days and counting.

Food Coma

I'm so tired.  I've eaten some massive big meals over the past 24 hours.  My breakfast at Jinky's this morning carried me through much of the work day.  But my dinner at Buddha's Belly in Los Angeles has sent me over the edge into Food Coma Land.  Population: 1.  Mayor = me. Training off day = glorious. Got a full night's sleep.  My achey knee has calmed down, and my body feels rested.

Except for my overworked stomach. I've been shoveling food in my mouth the way John Henry shoveled rocks out of those tunnels.  Funny thing is that I'm maintaining the same wait while doing it.  (Don't hate me for that!) I can't believe the volume of food/calories I can consume and still stay the same weight.  But I'm not complaining.

This blog post sucks.  I don't feel like writing tonight, I'll be honest.

I promise a better post tomorrow.  Tonight, I just need some sleep.  Hello weekend, here I come!

222 days and counting.

Eat Well, Train Well

Day 4 of my week off of Ironman training went well.  I slept long, ate large -- including a lunch feast at Cecconi's in West LA -- and generally relaxed. I suppose it was the perfect time for a seminar on nutrition.

Tonight's discussion at Runnergy off Ventura Boulevard in Sherman Oaks was sponsored by Fortius and served as the perfect wake-up call that my respite was drawing to a close.  And that I probably should watch what I'm eating a little more this week.

Though I don't regret for one second the BBQ ribs, McDonald's cheeseburger, chili-cheese hot dog, ice cream, cookies and wild boar pappardelle ragout pasta consumed at various points during the week.

Damn, all of it tasted great!  Makes my mouth water a little just thinking about it.

At least now I can better appreciate just how bad that stuff is for me.  The nutritionist offered several pithy reminders of how diet and proper race nutrition can dictate your performance.  Some examples:

-- Have you "eaten a rainbow" today?  Simply put, picture a rainbow as symbolizing all the colors of the fruits and vegetables you should consume every single day.  Me? Today I got as far as green (lettuce), red (tomatoes), orange (carrots),and  yellow (banana).  Overall, we're supposed to have nine servings of fruits and veggies per day.

-- What color is your pee?  (Hope I'm not getting too personal.) If you're drinking enough water, it should always be clear or near-clear.  If your pee looks like beer then you're dehydrated.  If it's neon green then you've wasted your money on expensive multi-vitamins, which usually only absorb in your body at approximately 30% capacity.

-- How much water should you drink every day?  Believe it or not, divide your body weight in two and take that number in ounces.  For me, that's roughly 66 ounces of water every day, or approximately eight glasses of water (assuming roughly 80z per glass).

-- When it comes to carbohydrates, brown is your friend, white is not.  That sucks, because all the "good" tasting stuff is generally white (rice, pasta, white bread, flour, etc.).  But, the sugar goes straight in and out of your body.  "Brown" carbs (wheats, grains) stay in your system longer.

So what did I do once I heard all this information tonight?

I went home and ate Trader Joe's mint-n-chip ice cream.

Don't. Say. Anything.

That said, I'm getting more and more excited to get back on the training regimen.  I bounded up the stairs at work today, which is a sign that my energy level is returning to normal. I even jogged to a couple meetings today and to my car after work.  I love the feeling of feeling better.  I'm not all the way there yet, but am honestly about 90% now.  Can't wait for the final 10% to kick in!

Who knows, maybe I'll be eager to work out a little in the morning.

Nah.

243 days and counting.

Getting Back to Good

It's been 10 days since I last felt "normal." (Note: Some reading this blog would debate my definition of "normal.")

But I'm getting there.  Today was the first day I started to walk with moderate to little pain whether from illness or the LA marathon.  My legs are still sore, don't get me wrong.  But it's not accompanied by stiff shoulders and an achey neck.  My throat is noticeably tender but not raw.  My feet don't feel swollen or broken, though I owe our company massage therapist, Abby, for that.  Just 30 minutes with her this afternoon made me feel exponentially better.

And I'm getting caught up at work too.  My inbox is close to empty and workflow is back on track.  The past few days I've felt discombobulated in the office.  Like I was operating in a fog while trying to get better from the cold, prepare for the marathon, and catch up from the video games conference.  Finally, I can see some daylight.

And it looks good!

Meanwhile, I'm enjoying my time off from training this week.  I'm eating whatever I want (today that meant BBQ ribs for lunch), catching up on sleep (9-10 hours a night), spending quality time with Stephanie (even though she's sicker than I am right now) and generally starting to unwind a bit.

In other words, I'm getting back to good.

I'm hopeful this will help and not hurt my training in the long-term.

Time will tell.  I'm getting excited for Monday, but am glad it's still a few days away.

244 days and counting.

So That's What Happened

I went to the doctor's today. You know, about eight days too late. Turns out that while I indeed had a cold that definitely contributed to my demise at the LA Marathon, allergies played a big role too.

Allergies?  I haven't had allergy problems for years.

Think again.  My recent trail runs and bike rides to Hidden Valley came at the peak of spring, when all sorts of pollens were in full bloom.  As a result, my throat tightened, my glands hardened, my lungs overworked, and my breathing suffered.  This led, according to the doctor, to fatigue, which ultimately contributed to my body saying "enough is enough!" on Sunday.

So, as if I was 9 and getting allergy shots, I'm on medication again.  Flo-Nase and Allegra.

The good news is that I'm feeling better already.  My throat is starting to loosen and isn't quite as sore.  My eyes, while dry and droopy, feel a little lighter for getting so much sleep the past few days.

I'm going to take the rest of the week off from training, no matter how I feel. I think it's time for a little break.  Time to heal the muscles and just relax for a few days.  I'll get back to the training grind this Monday.

After all, I've got another triathlon coming up.  The next goal: Newport Beach triathlon on April 11.  Mark it down.  I will be ready. More than ready!  I'm getting fired up just typing about it.

But for now, I'm more fired up for a good night's sleep.  A full night's sleep with no training jolting me out of bed at the crack of dawn.  Yup, a mini-training vacation.

G'night.

245 days and counting.

Achey Breaky Body

From the neck down, I'm starting to feel better. I broke my fever in the wee hours of the morning -- no, I didn't feel the earthquake -- and my foot has been pain-free for two days now. From the neck up, I'm a mess.  My neck and shoulder muscles are tight to the point that I can't look past 90 degrees on either side.  My throat feels like it's embedded with glass shards that tear at anything approaching solid food.  I know because I couldn't take soup anymore today (after two pints from Canter's and one large serving from Dupar's) and ventured out for a Subway sandwich and later on, a burger.  Caloric intake temporarily overtook sensibility.

I spoke with Coach Gerardo late this evening to get a sense of my chances for the LA Marathon.  He still thinks this sort of thing is very normal and explained why.  Apparently when the taper phase occurs shortly before an important race, the body is tricked into thinking that it's OK to shut down and repair itself.  Therefore, your immune system is more susceptible to illness.  Further, pre-race illness is a symptom of the beginning phases of over-training.  Those factors, coupled with my trip to San Francisco and attending a convention contributed to my downfall.

It makes so much sense, but that doesn't make this any less frustrating. I've worked too hard to come this far and be denied a kick-ass marathon.  Won't.  Happen. Period.

One positive indication of my recovery came via an hour of yoga from home using a DVD that Stephanie loaned.  Yesterday, I didn't have an ounce of energy to even move around the house.  Today was different.  Better.  Progress.  Once again, solitary yoga turned out to be so much more productive than a group session.  I was able to focus on purely nasal breathing the entire time, along with focusing exclusively on form and not what others in the class were doing and how they looked by comparison.  Despite my kvetching about my neck, all other body parts seem to be getting back to normal.  That is encouraging.  And with my massage tomorrow with Abby, I'm hopeful she can push me over the top.

We'll see how tomorrow goes.  For now, it's time to get some more rest.  Apparently 12 hours and an hour nap today weren't enough.

252 days and counting.

A Tale of Two Selves

In the sport of triathlon, mental outlook is almost everything. Thanks to a long-time friend and colleague, I was reminded of that this morning -- on Twitter, of all places.

My friend Patrick, responding to my "woe is me!" tweet about being sick before the marathon, replied, "@ryanps74, the @theiornmadman makes this a positive."

Sometimes the most powerful of motivations comes in the simplest of messages.  Not even a full 140 characters!  Though I find it amusing that both people mentioned in the tweet are one person.  How can that be?  It's such an image to me: my normal "ryanps74" self laying on the couch, ill and down for the count, while my alter-ego, "theironmadman" is being summoned to overcome and persevere.  A tug-of-war between two selves.  One dogged and downtrodden, the other energetic and excited.  One defeated, the other indefatigable.

Four months ago, there was only one "me."  Now, apparently there are two.  And perhaps, like a superhero, I can try to summon "theironmadman" not just when competing in a triathlon, but in other aspects of my life.  It honestly had never occurred to me prior to Patrick's tweet.

When I started my Ironman journey, I knew I'd become a better athlete, but I never considered I'd morph into a different person.  It's interesting that others can see the makings of a transformation on the outside while I failed to recognize it occurring from within.

Thank you, Patrick.

Now, I'll shut down for the night.

I've got a fever to beat back.

253 days and counting.

7 Days til the Marathon and I'm Sick!

I've heard of this phenomenon and was hoping it wouldn't happen to me.  Coach Gerardo told me recently that coming down with an illness in the days leading to a big race typically happens about two weeks in advance.  And it's perfectly normal. Surprise!  I'm sick.  And a giant blitzkrieg at that.

But instead of a fortnight, I've got seven days to rest, hydrate and make sure I don't lose my physical or mental edge before the LA Marathon.

Crap.

The achey body, sore throat, watery, itchy eyes and hot-to-the-touch skin all struck at once -- about five hours after an otherwise uneventful trail run at Chesebero Park around 9 this morning.  In fact, I did very well on the 30-minute tempo portion, clocking sub-8:00 miles and never exceeding an 8:15 pace.  That said, my plantar fasciitis is acting up on the arch of my left foot, to the point where I could barely walk the rest of the day.

I'm definitely getting worried.  I feel like I'm starting to fall apart.  I suppose it was bound to happen after pushing myself so hard the past few months. Or after a few days of shaking hands with all types of folks at the video games conference. (I even used Purell an ungodly amount of times, what gives!?) But one week before the race? Really?

(Fortunately, all this happened before our afternoon of engagement ring shopping, which went really well!  More details another time when I know she's not reading over my shoulder.)

As Stephanie can tell you though (or my parents), I'm a bit dramatic when I don't feel well.  In fact, can you feel Steph's eye-roll?  Perhaps it's because I'm so used to being in good health that it accentuates my pathetic-ness when those rare moments occur.  Maybe it's because I watched too much Ferris Bueller's Day Off and identified more with Cameron growing up.  Either way, thank goodness for Steph tonight.  She's taking good care of me with Canter's matzah ball soup, lots of herbal tea and cold medicine.  I'm a lucky dude.

To be safe tomorrow, I'm taking the day off work.  I need to rest and sleep as much as possible to beat this with enough time to resume my training pre-race.  It literally is a race against time, and I hope my body is up for the task.

Come on, Ry.  Don't fail me now.

And Ferris, wherever you are, don't even think of calling me.  I so will NOT pick up.

"When Ryan was in Egypt's land...LET MY RYAN GO!!!"

254 days and counting.

Thank YOU For Your Support

One of my favorite TV commercials when I was a kid featured two old farmer-looking guys talking about their small wine cooler company, Bartles & Jaymes.  They always ended every ad the same way, "...and thank you for your support." It has stuck with me for some reason, beyond just being an advertising junkie.  These people (probably actors) were thanking me for supporting something that would have been illegal for me (I was 14!), yet they were "sincere" in making me feel like I was a part of their success.  I found that touching even though I couldn't articulate why at the time.

That is exactly how I feel about participating in the sport of triathlon.

While the journey to Ironman Arizona has been mine, it certainly hasn't been mine alone.  Family, friends both old and new (yay Fortius Coaching and Twitter!) and a fantastic girlfriend have enabled me to reach a new level of joy that simply wasn't attainable training alone.  This past weekend competing at the Desert Triathlon in Palm Desert exemplified what it means to have a deep and strong support network.  First, the outpouring of encouragement and understanding when I announced my relationship with Stephanie was deeply touching.  I've never received more comments on my Facebook page or my blog. Then, the on-site race support.  So inspiring given the tough weather.  People rallied even harder to cheer their friends on.  And of course, following the race at Las Casuelas Mexican restaurant.  What a great time!

Friends, new and old, in person or virtually speaking, thank you for your support.

Yesterday following the race, I wrote about my somewhat disappointing swim/bike times that were outweighed by the happiness I felt after my most enjoyable triathlon event in my nascent "career."  The volume of Twitter replies and explanations for what may have happened during the race and why was helpful.  For example, my new friend Dan told me to re-calibrate my times using a different triathlon pace converter.  Turns out I was only :10 off my new T-pace, much closer to my 2:05 original T-pace from a couple months ago.  Further, I was only 1 mph off my normal T-pace on the bike instead of 3 mph.  That makes a huge difference in my performance psyche.

Twitter friends, thank you for your support.

Tonight, I enjoyed a recovery yoga class with the Fortius Coaching team at Topham Street Gym in Reseda.  Despite our hectic work days, nearly all of us made it to the class. There's something special about knowing we're all in this together.  That no matter how busy we are in our "regular" lives, we depend on each other in an odd way to simply "be there" at events like this.  When it's a busy Monday night.  When we have other things to do, like packing for a four-day business trip that begins tomorrow, for example.  When it's easy to pack it in, in this case literally, and skip the workout.  We are accountable to each other, whether we know it or not.

Team Fortius, thank you for your support.

Tomorrow begins my longest business trip of the year.  I'll be gone starting tomorrow, returning Friday afternoon.  (I'm definitely blogging though, so stay tuned for the Ironmadman... LIVE from San Francisco!) Fortunately, I'm tapering for the LA Marathon so I won't miss that many workouts.  I'm even more fortunate though that I'll be meeting some friends for group runs during the mornings of the convention I'm attending.  Dedicated people like myself.  Eager to find time amidst the chaos to take care of themselves.  Helping me take care of myself.

Thank you for your support.

260 days and counting.

Less is More

Six-thirty this morning came and went uneventfully. Just what I wanted.  Cool sheets, warm blankets and fluffy pillows rarely felt better.

Thanks, Trudy.  Thanks, Bam-Bam.

Frankly, I needed a break.  A rest.  A pitstop.  Time to cool the jets, if only for an extra hour's sleep.

It really paid off.  When I finally removed myself from the comfort of my bed (for a change not shoved out by Trudy and Bam-Bam's pounding) around 8, I felt refreshed.  Re-energized.  Re-engaged.

Ready for the day, and the rest of this week's training.  I didn't really miss much, 45 minutes of one-legged spinning drills on the trainer.  Coach Gerardo has told me in the past I can essentially skip one workout a week and still hit my goals, so I cashed in that check today.

So worth it!  The extra time relaxing in the morning, enjoying a rush-free breakfast, starting to program my Garmin, was worth more than the physical workout.  The mental rest that came with it far outweighed any incremental physical benefit I may have attained.

To top it off, I took a yoga class at lunch in our work gym.  The workout wasn't great -- the room was cold, the lights were bright and the music was a bit too loud -- but the experience of collecting my thoughts and breath for an hour cancelled all that out.  And my stressed muscles desperately needed a mellow stretching session.  Though this yoga class required more stopping for Child's Pose than I'm used to. No biggie though.

What a relaxing day.  Now, I'm ready for the rest of the week's training, which tomorrow consists of a tempo brick and culminates this weekend with a 20-mile street run.

Sometimes, less is truly more.  A light day of training will pay big dividends in the coming days.  I'm fired up.

273 days and counting.