200 Days to Go: What I've Learned So Far

OK, it's 196 days and counting, but I've been thinking about this post for four days now.  That counts for something, right? I've written 159 blog posts, not including this one.  Which means I've trained for Ironman Arizona slightly longer than that.  I had some basic observations at the 50 post mark that are pretty quaint.

One-hundred posts later, what have I learned?

Here's my updated Top 10 Things I've Learned About Ironman Training.  For those of you reading, I'd sure love to see your top 10!

10) Better equipment can make a difference.  See yesterday's blog post.

9) Triathlon is an f-ing expensive sport!  See yesterday's blog post.

8 Compression apparel works.  My calves feel more refreshed when I wear them.

7) Writing a blog post every day is a lot like training for a triathlon.  You have to pace yourself, realize that some days are better than others, and that it's a largely solitary endeavor.

6) Triathlon is much more enjoyable when it's a team effort.  Not just a triathlon team or club, but when you have a partner actively supporting and encouraging you. Thanks, Steph.

5) You get much more out of triathlon than what you put in in terms of caring and sharing.  But the latter feels better.  Wildflower taught me that.

4) The mind is so much more powerful than any muscle in the body.  I've overcome hunger, pain, and illness to finish what I've started.  My willpower has grown during this journey as much as my stamina or strength.

3) Increased intake of fruits and vegetables can replace multivitamins -- thanks to stuff I didn't previously like that I now crave (oranges, avocado, tomatoes).  I stopped taking a daily multivitamin weeks ago after increasing my berries and orange intake.  I haven't felt an energy dip.

2) I am really damn competitive.  I kinda knew that already, but this sport has shown me that I'm almost obsessive about it.  Can't tell yet if it's a positive or negative.  I suppose it depends on what my willpower is telling me.

1) Triathlon training or races cannot be taken for granted.  Anything can happen.  Bad weather.  Unexpected equipment malfunctions (not of the Janet Jackson variety).  Illness.  Injury.  Every opportunity to train is a gift.  I now treat it accordingly.

196 days and counting.

My New Partner In Crime

Batman had Robin. Knight Rider had K.I.T.

Robert Redford had Wonderboy.

Speed Racer had...uh...Speed Racer?

I have Charlie, my new triathlon bike.

She's light (17.6 lbs without water bottles), pretty and packs a punch.  I took Charlie out for her maiden voyage earlier today at Griffith Park for a rare morning brick session.  While I covered roughly the same ground I usually do in an hour, I did so with far less effort.  I never felt taxed, my heart-rate rarely crossed into heart-rate zone 3 yet I routinely gained at least 2 mph from my normal average when I decided to step on the gas a bit.

More important, I felt really comfortable on the bike.  I can't emphasize how important a proper bike fitting is.  Though it took my fitter at Helen's Cycles, Paul, about a solid hour to get it right (my fault given my scoliosis, sloped shoulders, and unequal leg lengths) the investment was well worth it.  I could sense the additional power transfer from my legs to my feet to the pedals.  At the same time, I felt like I was resting comfortably on the aero bars.  Right now, my hamstrings are a bit tight from being in that new aero position, but otherwise I feel great -- especially considering I ran an hour afterwards and worked a full day in the office.  Usually by this time, I'm fairly tired and ready to go home for some rest.  I believe I have more energy now by being able to conserve more this morning.

Back to the run.  I ran faster than usual and covered more ground while keeping my heart-rate comfortably in heart-rate zones 2 and 3.  Even though I crept high into the latter, I never felt taxed or even at the start of heavy breathing.  Usually a brick of this nature would sap my strength and stamina.

But not with Charlie.

I feel like this new piece of equipment will make a noticeable difference in my overall performance come race time.

While I love Monica, my road bike, I think Charlie and I were meant to be.

Don't worry, Stephanie.  I know it's only a bike.

Just don't tell Charlie that.  And don't tell Monica either.

197 days and counting.

PS: I've been meaning to write about what I've learned over these past 100 days.  This is a self-reminder to hopefully do that tomorrow.

Wiped Out

Never take a workout for granted. I packed my bag last night for two workouts: The usual 6 a.m. swim coached by Megan, followed by my first track workout.

And why not?  I haven't missed a workout due to being physically unable to complete it (outside of illness) since I first started training with Fortius last year.

That streak is now over.  Either because of the swim workout's intensity or because this past weekend's training caught up with me. Maybe a little bit of both.  Either way, I struggled mightily all day to find the energy to complete the second workout.  It never showed up.  I came home from work, tried to take a nap knowing full well that Bam-Bam would do everything possible to prevent that (he did so admirably, the little shit), and have basically remained planted on the couch since 5:30 p.m.

Instead of forcing the issue, I texted Coach Gerardo to tell him I'm skipping the track session.  We're adjusting my workout schedule to squeeze it in this Friday, my usual day off.  That's now been moved to this coming Monday.

So what caused my exhaustion today?  I slept well enough (seven hours), wasn't stressed out and even got a little yoga and stretching in before bedtime last night.

Hmm...let's take a look at the swim (55 minutes):

-- 300 warmup (I think, maybe more)

-- 100 kick, 50 any stroke x 2

-- 250 x 2 fast (1:00)

-- 500 race pace

-- 100 sprint x 5 (1:00)

-- 200 any stroke cooldown

It's not a ton of yards, but the intensity definitely took its toll.  I was in a faster lane than usual with Bob and Lisa, two much faster swimmers.  I was also bothered by my goggles today, which kept leaking water into my eyes and caused me to lose focus from concentrating on my stroke.  In the end, I just never quite felt right in the water, not until the final two sprints of the morning.  By then, I was pretty gassed.  Yet it was my turn to lead one of the last sprint 100s since there were four of us in a lane.  I poured everything I had into making sure I didn't slow down the group.  The good news is that nobody passed me.  The better news is that according to Bob, each of our 100s was in the low 1:30s, meaning I can hold that threshold for 500 yards if need-be.

The bad news is that I'm exhausted on a couch instead of logging my second workout.

Tomorrow's a new day though.  And a very exciting one at that.  I'll be taking out Charlie, my TT bike, for her maiden voyage.  This will be part of a morning brick instead of the usual Griffith Park LA Tri Club afternoon workout.  Stephanie and I have plans to attend the Ben Folds concert tomorrow night.

Now it's off to take a recovery bath and get some much needed rest.

198 days and counting.

Makeshift Yoga Studio

Stephanie and I opened our own yoga studio tonight, Dickens Downward Dog Yoga.

It's located right here in Sherman Oaks, in my bedroom, in fact.

(Yes Dad, you can keep reading.  This is a G-rated blog.)

Steph and I both had a long day and night, yet both of our schedules called for an hour yoga session.  The only way we could make it work was to use a DVD.  Of course, Steph made my room feel just like a yoga studio, complete with dim lighting, candles and music.  All that was missing was incense, which I can live without.

I find that yoga at the end of the day is hard.  Especially before bedtime and about an hour after dinner.  Concentration is low, although relaxation is at its highest.  The DVD, by Mark Blanchard, didn't help.  Both Steph and I were stymied at times by the complexity of the poses.  I had to retreat to Child's Pose a few times and by the end of the workout completely ignored the DVD to work at my own pace with more mellow poses.

Maybe that's the point of yoga.  There's no wrong way to do it.  There's no being overwhelmed.  It's how you respond to the poses being suggested that matters.  Instead of forcing the pose, as is often the case in life, sometimes it's best to simply choose a more comfortable pose altogether.  It's one thing to push outside of a comfort zone.  It's also just as valuable to know when to remain within the friendly confines of comfort.

At 10 p.m. on a Monday night, comfort won out.

There's nothing wrong with that.

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Perhaps that will be the new mantra of our new studio.

I like that sound of that.

Dickens Downward Dog Yoga is closing for the night.

Namaste.

199 days and counting.

Race Ready

I'm fired up for Wildflower! Yesterday, I could barely tell I had a race this weekend.  Today, I'm jacked UP!

Dustin got my day started properly with a phone call discussing logistics for tomorrow's trip to Lake San Antonio.  Even though we were only confirming groceries, I realized we were in store for an epic weekend of triathlon awesomeness.  While the movie probably wouldn't sell well, Dustin, his buddy Darren and I are about to star in "Three Triathletes and a Winnebago." Can't wait.

My excitement built after my Fortius teammate and massage therapist, David, gave me a 1.5-hour massage tonight to restore some flexibility to my tight and tired legs.  I feel invigorated, if not slightly sore.  David is Escaping from Alcatraz this weekend, so we both discussed our various races and our preparation.  What a great way to enter that race-ready frame of mind.

The evening has concluded gracefully and in style...with a sushi dinner and the soothing sounds of classic jazz wafting through the house as Stephanie enjoys a cup of tea while I type.  Seriously, does life get any better than this?  Actually, it would if I didn't have to leave Steph behind this weekend where we can't even get cell phone access.  I know how absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it's so bittersweet to know you're going to miss your roommate and best friend even before you leave.  I've been sitting here thinking about all the melancholy entries I wrote at the beginning of this blog regarding our break-up, and I don't want to read them.  I don't have to.  I remember how it felt every day being without her and am grateful I never again have to go back to that place.  I can handle three nights away from her, but I don't have to like it!

So now, as the evening winds down, all that's left to complete is the race gear checklist:

-- Wetsuit (man, it stinks!)

-- Goggles (two pair), swim cap

-- Bike, shoes, helmet, gloves

-- Body glide, camera, Garmin

-- Clothes, blankets, towels, pillows, snacks, toiletries, books

Yep, that covers it.

This is my last entry until Monday, when I return from the race with a full report.  Predictions?  Well, no pre-race summary would be complete without one.  I think I'll hit between 30-33 minutes on the swim.  I'm going to pace myself on the bike so I'll likely be somewhere between 1:40 and 1:45.  I intend to push a bit on the run.  I'd like to hit between 50-54 minutes.  So, throw in roughly four minutes of transition times and that should add up to between 3:04-3:16 total.  I'd love to break three hours for this race but I don't know how realistic that will be if I follow my pacing recommendations from the Fortius training camp weekend earlier this month.

Let's see how close I come.

For now, this is the Ironmadman signing off until I return to internet civilization.  Good luck Ironman St. George competitors!  Good luck Escape from Alcatraz studs!  And good luck, Wildflowers. See you at the lake in about 13 hours.

209 days and counting.

Mellow Monday

There are workout days like yesterday, where I swam, ran and practiced yoga practically back-to-back-to-back. Then there are workout days like today, where I enjoyed an easy yoga session at the end of a long day.

Sweet!

Even sweeter was Stephanie joining me at Black Dog Yoga tonight for class and sushi after.  Since we've been engaged, our schedules have been so packed that we rarely spend quality "date" time together during the week.  Tonight was a welcome exception.  Except it makes it harder when you're trying to suppress a yoga fart in class!  (Fortunately, I concealed my gas.)

And so begins my taper to Wildflower.  Counting this evening's mellow pseudo-workout, I've got six days until the big race.  Including the race itself I've got six hours of training this week.  Six!  That's at least half my normal training load.  Since I'm healthy this time (unlikely the LA Marathon), I'm not sure what to do with myself.  I'm almost giddy with the extra free time.

Tomorrow I've got the Fortius swim at 6 a.m., followed by a 45-minute spin on the trainer. I can handle that!  Let's see if this taper thing works when I'm healthy.

212 days and counting.

The Crash: 1 Year Later

One year ago today, I turned my road bike into a mountain bike, hurtling over the edge off Santa Susana Pass and tumbling down about 30 feet. And walked away from it.

The mental toll was much worse.  It took me about nine months before I started cornering more aggressively on my Colnago.  Even though I consider myself mentally "rehabilitated," there are still moments on downhills where I recreate the events leading up to my crash.  Sweeping right turn.  Over-correct to stay on the right side of the road.  Notice the rapid left approaching quicker than I'd like.  Brake too hard.  Get loose on gravel.  Lock eyesight on cliff, and the tree just beyond it.  Panic.

I knew today would be a milestone for me as I'd have to overcame those mental images throughout our Fortius team ride in the Malibu/Agoura hills. I think about that crash on almost every ride, but I knew it would be top-of-mind today.   Especially when it was announced we would be descending down the notoriously technical Decker Canyon Road off Mulholland Drive.  When Stephanie and I got back together, I promised her that I'd avoid this canyon as much as possible because of how fast cars and motorcycles rocket down it.  But today, on this one-year anniversary of an event that should have either killed or severely injured me,  I had to prove something to myself.  It wasn't a day to turn back.

The descent was fairly easy, I'm pleased to say.  In fact, I surprised myself by taking some of the more difficult lines almost perfectly.  The feeling of nailing a line is so ecstatic.  I can only describe it as feeling bound to your bike and the road as if all were melded together on rails like a roller coaster.  Gravity, physics and inertia all work together simultaneously, and in that brief moment, cycling becomes gliding.

I did have one flashback moment though.  There's a tight left hairpin turn with a berm at the apex.  If you don't know it's coming, it can take you by surprise.  I remember seeing it for the first time months ago on my initial Decker descent, grateful for my ginger approach down the mountain.  Had I not crashed at Santa Susana Pass, I very well might have missed that corner amidst my inexperience and arrogance.

Because I hadn't ridden Decker in so long, this turn caught me a bit by surprise this morning.  But the difference was a year of maturity and respect for the sport.  Instead of slamming on the brakes, I gradually applied pressure and looked my way through the corner.  I didn't lock on the potential obstacle, but scanned ahead to the other side of the corner so I knew how to approach the turn after that.  Instead of freezing, I analyzed. Instead of panicking, I adapted.

This moment was probably indistinguishable to the rest of my teammates, but it's something I'll remember for a long time.  I've descended Decker before.  But today, it was a little more special. A rite of passage.  A rite that I feel blessed to have been afforded.

The rest of the ride was highly enjoyable due to the sunny, temperate weather and the fact that my buddies Frank and Dustin (both pictured) accompanied the Fortius team and me.  Each held their own today, which always impresses me since they both juggle busy work and family lives.  I joked with Dustin that he and Frank are actually quint-athletes since Dustin balances a marriage and a pregnant wife while Frank has a wife, two kids and a new dog.  Now that is dedication!

In addition to our Rock Store climb and Decker descent, I was also proud of the time trial we did in Hidden Valley.  I wasn't wearing a heart-rate monitor or a speedometer but I know I pushed it hard today, and felt strong. Improvement is both physical and mental.

I'm so grateful that I even had an opportunity to be in this position.  To realize the dream of becoming an Ironman.  To be able to learn from past mistakes and grow.  To learn more about myself and evolve into something a little better.

Aha. The real benefit of this Ironman journey.

214 days and counting.

Station 9 Climb

Yep, that's Frank. On the ground.  Exhausted.

We had just climbed 3,500 feet to the summit of what's known as the Station Climb, near the LA County Fire Department's "fire suppression camp" atop the mountains overlooking the San Fernando Valley.

And it was awesome!

This was the view we were rewarded with after climbing for roughly an hour.  Off in the distance in the upper left is the Burbank Airport.  At one point, I saw an American Airlines jet overhead near the mountain's peak and felt like I could wave to the passengers -- and see them waving back!

A year ago, I'm not sure I could have survived that climb and the rest of the 50-plus mile ride -- along with the 20-minute run after.  Let alone know that I had more in the fuel tank at the end of the run while never crossing into heart-rate zone 5 (not even close!).  That is such a great feeling.  Even better, my achey right knee wasn't flaring up badly following the run.  I'm icing it as I type this blog as a precautionary measure, along with applying the Jack Black Grooming Products "Dragon Ice" recovery balm.

Today's ride was a perfect training course for Wildflower.  Long climbs resembling "Nasty Grade."  Running uphill following a quick bike transition.  Miles of flat road in between to recover.  Yet again, a solid confidence boost going into my next big race.

I even got a confidence boost by fixing a flat tire on the return trip from the Station Climb.  My back wheel popped and fizzed heading through an underpass near McBean Parkway in Santa Clarita.  The tube came apart at the valve, which I haven't seen before.  While serving as a good tutor, Frank let me fix the tire myself, guiding me when I was screwing up and demonstrating the patience of a saint while it took me 15 minutes to finish the job.  But, I did it!  At least I know if worse comes to worse, I can change a front or back tire.  The worst part, for me, is pushing the last quarter section of the tire onto the wheel. I need to work on that.

Speaking of confidence boosts, my buddy Dustin is competing in his first triathlon tomorrow.  I called to wish him luck and it sounded as if he didn't need it at all.  Maybe it's the stress of his job as a technical director for Prime Ticket cable television that has him so nonplussed.  Maybe it's the hours of training he's been putting in since making the commitment several months ago.  He's got a pregnant wife along with a 3-year-old boy, so finding the time and finishing what he started is no small feat.  I'm excited for him.

Now, after a slight break in the action, I'm going out with Stephanie for an evening of fun at a birthday party.  Time to rally!

Next up tomorrow: Trail run and swimming.  I hope it'll be as much fun as I had today with Frank.

221 days and counting.

Bit By Bit

When I was a kid, I was forced to endure my mother's obsession with all things Barbara Streisand. That meant seeing Yentl.  In theaters.

It meant listening to the soundtrack.  Over. And. Over.

And over again.

It meant listening to every Babs song ever made on road trips, and heaven forbid a quiet Sunday afternoon at home, because that meant watching KTLA-TV's movie of the week if Streisand was starring.

Oh, how that woman tortured me with her nasally charm.

I thought I had put those memories out of my head, but then along came this morning's Fortius team swim.

Once again, Coach Gerardo flooded me with information about all the things I'm doing wrong in my stroke.  (Side note: That's his job. I love the feedback!)  It was one thing after another following each set of intervals.  Cross-swimming. Not rotating the arms. Not gliding enough off the turn-kick. Reaching wider on each stroke. Stop clenching my hands entering the water.  Relax on the recovery stroke.

I'd fix one aspect and break another.  Then, I started to look like a mechanical bot on each stroke, trying to fix everything at once but instead looking like C3-PO trying to run (not a pretty sight).

As I started to get the hang of all these tweaks towards the end of the workout, Gerardo had me swim one more 100-yard set, this time all-out.  I was getting frustrated prior to that point because my 100's were consistently at 1:50 even though I was supposed to be increasing speed from 2:00 down to 1:45 over a set of four 100s.

I think Gerardo was getting frustrated too.

Then, I took off.  Everything clicked!  I glided along the water.  Almost effortlessly.  Almost.  I built speed and power with each 25, though my effort/output level remained largely the same.

And out of nowhere, a friggin' Barbara Streisand song popped into my head!  Seriously! I don't know the actual name of the song, but it's the one that has these lyrics: "Bit by bit, putting it together..."

Honestly, that's all I know.

Sorry mom.  But I'm serious.

I was building confidence with each lap while that annoying song was embedded in my noggin'. On the final lap, the music in my head grew louder as did the power of my stroke.

I hit the wall hard and leaped up to see the giant electronic clock confirm what I felt...a new personal record!

100 yards in 1:37.  I think I hit 1:40 once but I've certainly never broken through the 1:30s.  This also explains my Newport Beach Triathlon pace of 1:40 (wetsuit-aided, of course).

Gerardo looked at the time, and looked at me.

"Why did you make me work so hard for that?"

I couldn't help but laugh.  My teammates cheered me in the next lane, including Megan, our team's swim coach.

It was a nice moment.  Probably a little more special than the others I've enjoyed so far.  Hopefully it signals a breakthrough.

Putting it together.  Bit by bit.  I knew all those years putting up with Babs would pay off somehow.

***

Speaking of pay-offs, I had another nice one today courtesy of Jack Black Men's Grooming Products.  Thanks to Stephanie, I use this stuff every day.  Especially the All-Over soap, Beard Lube for shaving and Face Moisturizer after coming out of the pool.  Jack Black (not related to the actor, thank goodness) makes premium skin care products for men that truly are a cut above the competition.  The soaps, creams and ointments are good for your skin and work really well.

Jack Black was a sponsor of the Newport Beach Triathlon and had a booth at packet pick-up.  I visited with them and proclaimed my love for their lineup and how it's a perfect fit for triathletes.  (What a coincidence, since that's why Jack Black is sponsoring triathlon events.) The company recently released a new line of performance-based products geared towards athletes, including muscle rubs.  I bought the muscle rub product and applied for a raffle to win the full lineup.

Today, I got a call from Jack Black HQ telling me I won.  So, on top of a great morning in the pool, I had good fortune at my back.  This really offset the news that I wasn't selected in the Kona Ironman lottery for 2010.  I knew I didn't have much of  a chance, but a guy can dream, right?

My Jack Black prize pack should arrive in the mail early next week.  I'll let y'all know how I like everything.  Based on past experience, I'm sure it will be soothing, smell great and feel even better.

Man, this might be the most metro-sexual post I ever write.  Barbara Streisand?  Skin care products?

Surely there's a place for us crazy triathletes.

Sorry, couldn't resist.

223 days and counting.

Cheering For a Giant Killer

I swam at 6 this morning.  This meant that The Big One didn't materialize as forecast.  But it was cold out -- just shy of 50 degrees.  I used to hate that kind of condition, but the steam rising from the 80-degree water creates such a mysterious, epic feel that I now look forward to plunging in the pool at that ungodly hour. It's the getting out part that is not so nice.

In fact, I chose not to do my customary second workout immediately after the swim because going from the warm pool to the cold outside makes it hard for me to feel my fingers for the first 10-15 minutes. I simply didn't feel like running -- instead choosing to surprise Stephanie, who was still sleeping at home.  She wasn't expecting me, as evident by her staring at me blankly for a few seconds wondering if she was dreaming or not.  Funny.

After a busy day in the office, I began workout #2 at 6:30 p.m., 12-plus hours later.  Pretty simple stuff, one hour of treadmill running with 20 minutes in heart-rate zone 3. Spacing the workouts apart so much was beneficial as I didn't crash in the middle of the work day from fatigue.  That happened around 5 p.m. instead, which was easier to overcome with a snack of homemade pizza that Steph and her girlfriends cooked together during their weekly "girls night."

The highlight of my training today didn't come from actually working out.  My buddy Rusty is about to compete in his first triathlon.  Rather than start with a sprint and work his way up, Rusty is tackling Ironman New Orleans 70.3 this Sunday.  Talk about just going for it!

I called Rusty to wish him well on his journey.  I think he'll be physically ready and mentally tough.  He's a pretty fast swimmer, and will absolutely annihilate the bike portion.  I encouraged him to wear a heart-rate monitor for the entire race so he can pace himself, especially since he hasn't done an actual triathlon race before.  Rusty has the right overall approach in that he doesn't really have a set time in mind, but rather rough projections of what he should be able to hit in each discipline if all goes well.

I can't imagine jumping straight into the deep end of this sport without prior triathlon experience. Some people thrive that way, like my swim coach and training partner, Megan.  She was telling me this morning on the way into swim practice that she's never done a sprint triathlon and started with a full Ironman.

Is experience overrated in this sport?  Is it better to just go for it and simply do your best to finish a 70.3 or full Ironman without the burden of knowing how tough the challenge really is? It's like the young basketball team that enters the NCAA Tournament not knowing it doesn't belong, only to peel off a string of upsets and advance farther than expected.

My thoughts are with Rusty for the next few days as he acclimates to 'Nawlins.  May he be a giant killer and slay his first 70.3 Ironman without too much pain and suffering.

Meanwhile, I'll resume my training tomorrow with an afternoon brick session at Griffith Park with LA Tri Club and my Fortius friends.  Off to sleep shortly to recover from today.

225 days and counting.