A Swimming Promotion

Sometimes, the little things are what make the biggest difference in my Ironman training. I dragged myself into this morning's 6 a.m. swim when I really could have used the extra sleep.  The morning was gray, the sheets were cool, the temperature at home was just right.  Didn't want to leave, plain and simple.  Especially knowing that after the swim, I had an hour-plus bike ride to look forward to on my trainer.  Two hours-plus of training before what would become a 12-hour workday.

But when I got to the pool, ready to jump in my usual lane away from the fastest swimmers, I was in for a pleasant surprise.

Megan let me swim with both Ann and Mike.  I was so surprised I asked Megan if she was sure.  Both Mike and Ann are usually in the top of their age group in every race they enter.  Ann just won her age group at a race this past weekend, in fact.  I was almost as worried about slowing them down as I was excited to share their lane.  Maybe I'd get faster by osmosis!

As dorky as it sounds, today felt like I was getting a swim promotion.  And dammit, I earned it!  My entire outlook instantly changed.  Hours and hours in the pool.  Frustration after frustration.  Setback after setback. Ounce by ounce of progress.  Even if I get "demoted" for Thursday's swim, it's almost like I was called up to the Major Leagues today for my cup of coffee at The Show. I can live with that!  Because for one day, my coach saw enough improvement in my technique that I was good enough to join the heralded "others" for an entire workout.

Suh-weet!

And I held my own.  I didn't fall behind Ann or Mike.  I kept up fine, even if I'm really sore from 10x100s split between 100s with our head remaining above water followed by T-pace 100s.  Of course, we swam many more laps than that.  While my body aches, it's the good kind of pain.

The pain of progress.

218 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.

Newport Beach Tri Race Report

Last night, I wrote about no longer needing sprint triathlons as part of my Ironman training.

Tonight, I write about why this morning's Newport Beach Triathlon was among the most important races I've completed.

Like my 20-mile Firecracker run in February, I proved something to myself this morning.  Perhaps more appropriate, I earned the validation I was seeking that my Fortius Coaching training is paying dividends.  After my LA Marathon debacle, I needed a proof point.  Moreover, was my Garmin speaking the truth lately?  Was I indeed getting slower?  These questions needed answers in the worst possible way, so the timing couldn't have been better to experience something tangible to compare year-to-year.

Fortunately, I did just that today, shaving off more than eight minutes from las year's 1:32:54 performance.

Eight minutes! I was hoping for improvement in the three-to-five minute range.  This year, I finished in 1:24:05, good for 11th place in my age group (top 20%) and top 20% among all men.

I cut 2:30 off last year's swim, nearly three minutes off last year's bike time and nearly :30 off my run.  The transitions were much faster too.  Moreover, my swim pace per 100 yards was by far my personal best -- 1:40.  My T-pace when I started training with Coach Gerardo was around 2:05.  I cannot believe the progress I've made.  Perhaps that is what I'm most proud of, given all the troubles I've been writing about lately regarding my swim technique.  And my 14:45 swim included a more brutal than usual opening 200 yards, with several people grabbing at my ankles and shoulders.  Not to mention slightly swimming off course after the first buoy.  In other words, I could've swam faster.  That's a great feeling.

Cycling the bike course several times yesterday paid off today too, though it was more than likely the lack of a cross-wind that put me over the top.  Yesterday, my Garmin indicated I averaged around 16.4 mph on my ride.  Today, I was .01 under a 20 mph average.  Of course, I was taking care yesterday to largely remain in heart-rate zone 2.  Today, while I could've dug a little harder, I was definitely in zone 3 for most of the ride.  Once again the only bikes beating me were guys on TT bikes.

I will be fixing that issue shortly.  I've got my eyes and heart set on a Cervelo P2 with upgraded wheels.

The run was about what I expected.  Were it not for the 7-8% grade hill at the 1.5 mile mark, I likely would have broken 21 minutes.  Instead, I paced myself to have a strong finishing kick.  I'm sure I negative split the latter 1.5, with a sprint on the last 150 yards.

There was also an intangible factor that helped fuel me this morning.  Stephanie, despite being sick, along with her dad came to support me.  This was the first triathlon that Steph's dad had ever seen, and I wanted to put on a show.  I wanted to let "Mr. V" know -- loud and clear -- what I was made of, and that the same kind of resolve and grit I demonstrate during a race is the same kind of attitude I will bring in taking care of his daughter.  As a result though, I was more nervous than I should have been.  Case in point: I put on my wetsuit backwards!

Fortunately, I overcame my nerves, along with a brief panic attack when I couldn't get my normal pre-race breakfast of oatmeal and banana until 40 minutes before the race.  Unlike the LA Marathon, the race itself was the highlight, instead of the pre- and post-event activities.

As I reflect on today's triumph, I no longer need to benchmark my training last year.  Fortius Coaching works.  My training is paying off.  I'm a better triathlete.  A more knowledgeable triathlete.

And tonight, a happier triathlete.

Next up: Wildflower!  But for just a little bit longer, I'll relish today's milestone. What was supposed to be a small event was a rather large confidence boost.

227 days and counting.

Is it Worth it?

My day started just outside Oakland (running hill intervals on a treadmill), wound through Simi Valley for lunch with my parents along with an afternoon swim, swung briefly through Sherman Oaks and concluded in Palos Verdes, for a wedding.

Yeah, I'm a little tired.

Fitting in training on days like today is a real pain in the ass.  I enjoy the sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that comes with forcefully finding time to do something for myself.  However, it can come at a cost, mainly fatigue that reveals itself at inopportune moments at the end of the day. Such as at a wedding with all your friends.  While they're ramping up, I'm winding down -- like a toy solider running out of momentum.

It's moments like that where I admire professional athletes even more.  How do they find the balance to enjoy their lives while also putting in the necessary time and expending the energy EVERY DAY to be the very best at what they do? I "only" worked out 1.5 hours today, yet it was a significant feat to do so.  And it affected the flow of my entire day.

How do those of you who read this blog do it?  How do you feel when you do it?  After you do it?  Or if you aren't able to do it?

There are moments like right now, around 11 p.m. on a Friday night after an evening out with my lady, where I wonder if this whole Ironman journey is entirely healthy.  It forces me to compromise my social life, occasionally my work schedule and it can drastically affect my wallet.

What's the ROI here?

I know I'll be 100% fired up to train tomorrow.  But right now, at the end of a long day of planes, cabs, cars and toasts, I'm just a pile of exhaustion and confusion.

Why do I do this to myself?

229 days and counting.

2 For 1 Special

Technology was not my friend last night.  But of course, it was my own doing.  I left my laptop at work and my back-up wasn't able to log-in to my blog site for some reason. Lucky for you, today is a two-for-one special!

As I may have mentioned, I tweaked my right inside knee slightly climbing all those hills at the Wildflower training camp.  So yesterday, I took it pretty easy outside of the pool for my hour tempo intervals run.  Inside the pool, well, that was another story.  My friend and Fortius swim coach, Megan, pushed us hard during our 6 a.m. practice.  Among several drills, we did 10, 100-yard sprints at race pace with 10 seconds to rest between each 100.  My approximate pace was between 1:50-1:55, which if accurate, represents a 10-15-second improvement from my early 2:05 T-pace.  Still, my stroke is a mess.  When I'm not crossing my body on the follow-through, my arms are entering the water too early.  If I'm doing those things correctly, then I'm not rotating enough or kicking from my hips and not my lower legs.  Or keeping my head down.  Or gliding enough.

I have so many things to think about during each stroke, it's amazing I don't drown under the weight and pressure of it all.

Now I know what it must feel like being a professional baseball player at the plate batting against a four-pitch hurler.  Too many things to consider besides just swinging the bat.

Of course, like that baseball player who plays for the love of the game, I drag myself out of bed at 5:30 in the morning because I've grown to love being in the water -- no matter how twisted my technique may be.

There would be no water for me today though.  Instead, I had a brick session.  This was made more complicated since my car is in my father's repair shop for normal maintenance, and my Colnago is in the shop for a tune-up.  The compromise was to ride on the trainer at varying degrees of difficulty for 90 minutes and then immediately running hills for the next 45 minutes.  All before 9 a.m., when I need to race the clock to make it in the office by 10.

The bike ride was largely uneventful, made more enjoyable by catching up on The Pacific on HBO.  (Side note: I feel silly complaining about swim technique after watching a mini-series about the inexplicable hardships the Marines endured during WWII in brutally inhospitable jungles throughout the South Pacific.)

My only real concern is the soreness in my right inside knee.  I've never had knee trouble in my life, but after all the climbing we did at Wildflower I think I strained a quad muscle or hamstring.  The tightness in either muscle is pinching the convergence point of three muscle groups on my knee, reducing my flexibility.  The more I pedaled, and climbed in a higher gear, the more my knee acted up.

What was strange though was that my knee didn't hurt as much when I ran perhaps my most challenging local hill not residing in Boney Mountain or Cheseboro Park.  From my condo on Dickens Street in Sherman Oaks, I climbed Woodcliff Road at Valley Vista all the way to Mulholland Drive.  This was literally 20 minutes straight of steep climbing, approximately 1,200 feet if Google Maps is correct. I don't even know why I chose that route this morning.  Especially with my knee feeling a little funky.  Guess I was bored of the usual 'round-the-block runs I've been doing for more than a year now.  It's great to know that I can make it to Mulholland and back home within 45 minutes at a fairly relaxed pace, especially with Wildflower looming.

The only downside of my training today came not frm the workouts but from the recovery.  I had Abby, our company massage therapist, work on my right leg for 30 minutes just after lunch.  Surprisingly, it felt worse after, tighter, than it did immediately after the run and throughout the morning.  Why is that?  Over the past several hours, my knee has remained tight though it's a little more relaxed now that I'm on the couch typing.

Tomorrow is my training off day instead of Friday. I have a business trip in Northern California. Perhaps the extra day's rest is coming at the perfect time?  I hope so.  I really want to avoid another LA Marathon scenario where I can't perform to my potential at races due to circumstances beyond my control.

I'll remain positive, for now.

232 and 231 days and counting.

Wildflower Preview

It's been two days since I returned from a Fortius Coaching training weekend at Lake San Antonio, site of the famed and fabled Wildflower triathlon.

I'm still trying to find the right words to describe my experience there.

I've only completed eight triathlons.  But Wildflower is poised to be the grand-daddy of them all -- the Rose Bowl of triathlons.  The scenery -- picture flowing Texas prairies interspersed with creeks and mountains in the distance -- challenging course routes and abundant wildlife combine to offer an experience that almost makes you forget you're pushing your body to its physical limit.

Almost.

While I could spend hours writing about the relationships I either formed or strengthened with Fortius teammates, I'm going to focus instead on the course itself.  It deserves its own tribute, after all.  I also promised my friends who haven't been to Wildflower that I'd share what I learned.  Selfishly speaking though, I want the images of the myriad hills burned in my head on race day.  I'm going to need that kind of recall.

Wildflower has a reputation for being the second-hardest triathlon course in America.  After swimming in the lake's chilly, murky water, biking both the Olympic and long course routes and running the Olympic course, I can't imagine how difficult our nation's hardest triathlon course would be.

I'll start with the swim.  The good news is that the water temperature should rise a few degrees by May 1.  The bad news (for me) was that this weekend's water temperature was in the mid-high 50s. But that's not going to be the tough part of the swim.

That honor would be reserved for running up an approximately 100-yard concrete boat ramp from the swim exit to the bike transition area.  I can think of few things as fun as just emerging from the water, cold, slightly dizzy and drenched, only to look up at about a 3-5% grade separating you from your bike.

Coach Gerardo suggested not running up the ramp but taking a bit of extra time to settle the heart rate.  An especially wise decision considering the first few miles of the Wildflower Olympic course (which I'm registered for) are a climb up and out of the main park area.  The grade reaches about 8-9% as I recall, so it's important to start the bike ride A) in the low gear coming from T1 and B) with as low of a heart-rate as possible.  There are mostly gentle rollers from Interlake Road onward to the turnaround point, though a few big hills loom towards the latter part of the first 12-13 miles.

According to Gerardo and our training weekend cycling coach, Derek, one of the other big keys to a successful Wildflower bike ride is conserving enough energy on the first half of the ride to achieve a negative split time on the second half.  This is made a little easier as more of the return ride is downhill.  However, don't be fooled...there are a few big hills, especially around mile 15 (if I recall correctly) and the second-to-last portion of the course -- as you re-enter the park.  Make sure you have enough energy for a strong finishing kick.  You'll need it, but you'll be rewarded with a steep, fairly aggressive descent -- the same hill you battled to get out of the park will suck you right back in for the run.  If you're feeling fatigued take your time rolling down that hill.  That's how accidents happen. Trust me, I've been there in the past.

Side Note 1: For those of you doing the Wildflower long course, I salute you.  I rode the long bike course but didn't have the pleasure of running the long course.  That was fine by me.  The long course bike ride is actually a lot of fun, if you pace yourself.  I rode it in a fairly leisurely 3:52, but am glad I did.  Best advice: Save yourself for mile 41, a long (potentially painful) hill known simply as "Nasty Grade."  Need I say more?  Remember there's a follow-up climb to Nasty Grade, and once you start the descent from both, you can begin to drop the hammer if you have enough energy left to do so.  But again, as you'll see below, leave room for the run!

Ah yes, the run.  If you've completed the Firecracker 10k in Chinatown, you fondly recall the first three miles of the race are a spiraling uphill to the top of Dodger Stadium.

The Wildflower 10k course is tougher, to the tune of about 4.75 miles of climbing before you get a real break.

The good (and bad) news is that unlike the Firecracker, you'll see what's in front of you for most of the uphills.  Maybe it's best that you don't see it?  For me, I kept my head down and focused on what was in front of me, which was hard considering all the wildlife and vegetation that were seemingly cheering (mocking?) me along the way.

Side note 2: The deer at Lake San Antonio went to the New York School of Pigeon Behavioral Sciences.  They are unafraid of humans, will essentially pose for pictures and don't get squirrely unless you approach within 10-12 feet. Which, by the way, is a bad idea on general principle.  Deer look harmless but will totally ruin your day.  Or so I've heard.  Not something I want to test out, especially because they travel in groups at the lake.

Back to the run.  If you have trail-running shoes, you may want to bring them.  A good portion of the 10k run is on dirt -- a welcome reprieve from the concrete.  During the final mile, you'll head back to the pavement to run down the steep embankment you biked previously.  This will wreak havoc on your quad muscles but you probably won't feel it until after the race, given the euphoric feeling of completing one of the country's toughest triathlon challenges.

Although I didn't go all-out on the Olympic-distance bike or run, based on my practices I'm guessing it will take me about 3:09-3:15 to finish the entire course, not including transition times.  I'm budgeting about 35 minutes for the swim (though I'd love to be faster!), 1:40 on the bike and if all goes well, about a 54-minute run.  I ran almost immediately following biking the Olympic course so this seems pretty reasonable.

By comparison, I am capable of swimming about a 30-minute mile with a current, 1:10 or possibly less on a 25-mile bike ride and around 50 minutes or slightly less for a triathlon 10k run.  My past Olympic-distance triathlons have ranged from 2:44 to 3:00 (my first Olympic tri).  You can see my budget for this race will be a lot more conservative.

In the end though, the best part of the camp wasn't the preparation or the knowledge of the course.  By far, it was trading stories, insights and one-liners with my Fortius teammates.  Picture going to sleep-away camp but for triathletes.  And with much better food.  It was the ultimate weekend getaway for the obsessed weekend warrior athlete: eat, sleep, train, stretch, repeat.  No cell phones.  No internet access.  Just Triathlete magazine, good company, fantastic scenery, and challenging training.

Aside from having my fiance by my side, what more could an Iron Mad Man ask for?

I returned from Lake San Antonio completely physically and mentally rejuvenated for Ironman training.  I've got the Newport Beach triathlon this Sunday, but my mind is totally locked into May 1-2.  Wildflower.  Oh, it's on baby.

233 days and counting.

Let My Freedom Go!

Today is the second day of Passover, the Jewish holiday where we commemorate the Jews' exodus from Egypt and recall how special it is to be free of persecution.  We drink lots of wine (four glasses during the traditional Seder), sing songs, and offer prayers of gratitude.  Not to mention eat a metric ton of food and desserts that camp out in our bowels for about a week.  That may partially explain why the Seder mandates we recline more deeply during the service as a measure of our ability to enjoy ourselves to the fullest at that moment in time. We simply can't move after the meal!  So we might as well get comfortable!

Passover coincides nicely with my quick return to Ironman training.  Of course, this is ironic because I feel like I'm losing my freedom again just a bit, especially after my past week of decadence. My body is protesting ever so slightly too, as in refusing to wake up this morning in time for the Fortius team 6 a.m. swim.  I looked at the clock at 5:20, quickly deciding "uh-uh" before turning my alarm off for another hour's rest.  Going from eight to nine hours of sleep for a week back down to six just wasn't going to happen the morning after a massive food coma.

My extra snooze time paid off though, as I arrived to the pool around 7:45 a.m. to find Coach Gerardo along with swim instructor, neighbor and friend Megan training in a nearby lane.  OK, I didn't really see them at first and trained on my own for about 30 minutes with drills while racking up a pretty pedestrian 1,000 yards.

But the next 30 minutes, I was lucky enough to receive intensive instruction from Gerardo and Megan on all the things wrong with my swim technique.

Folks, there's a lot.  Too much to recite here.  Probably too much for a 30 minute session.  Let me put it to you this way, if I could start over and learn how to swim from scratch, I would.  I think I pretty much suck at swimming at this point.

Fortunately, Gerardo and Megan are not Egyptian taskmasters when it comes to their coaching.  They patiently showed me that once again, I'm not extending my arms fully before entering the water, and that I'm just not relaxed enough -- which translates to wasted energy.

It took several laps and frustration before I experienced any modicum of progress, but by the end of my workout Gerardo said I was getting the hang of it.  I was keeping my elbow higher longer through the stroke, dragging my fingertips out of the water longer before entering at the last possible point in the stroke. And I was shifting my weight from side to side better, using my hips more effectively.

I thought, "Cool, if you say so."

I'll just keep practicing.  Honestly, I've never felt more like a fish out of water in the water.  Swimming is practically like one of Pharaoh's 10 plagues at this point, as in people feel sick after watching me swim!

During lunch, I participated in a yoga class at our work gym.  One big thing I noticed during my practice was how tight I had become just with one week of inactivity.  The body really does operate like a well-oiled machine, and when that machine isn't being used -- rust sets in. Probably faster the older one gets.

Joy.  Not only am I a slave to a schedule, but I'm a slave to my own body.

Which makes me wonder: Am I my own worst taskmaster?

Wait, don't answer that.

238 days and counting.

What Cannot Be Measured

The danger of a sport filled with metrics -- pace, heart-rate, watts, splits, cadence, T1/T2, etc. -- is that once you understand the data, it's easier to objectively analyze your true performance. The metrics indicate that I finished sixth in my age group out of 20 for the sprint portion of the 11th Annual Desert Triathlon today, good for top 22% of all males and top 13% overall.

However, my individual pace times tell the real story.  And for two out of the three events, I woefully underperformed.  As you know, my swim T-pace has steadily decreased the past several weeks, to the point of 1:55 per 100 yards.  I was most excited to see how much time I'd shave from my overall finish thanks to my new-found swimming prowess.  Today, for my first open water swim of the year, I swam at a 2:14 pace.  Wow.  Worse yet, for the 14-mile bike portion of the triathlon, my pace was 17 mph.  Are you f-ing kidding me?  Granted, I brought my "beater" bike, the one I use on the trainer at home, since I didn't want to risk crashing in the rain on my prized Colnago.  My Scott Speedster is a veritable tank compared to many of the other tri-bikes I was competing against.  (For the record, it also probably saved my life when I crashed last year!) But still, I wouldn't have expected such a decrease in speed.  No excuses either way.  I pedaled hard, but rode slow.

Fortunately, the run was a different story. I've never run a faster three miles, not by a longshot.  My pace was an astonishing 6:36, which is 21 seconds faster than my previous fastest recorded mile time.

In that regard, I can definitely see my training paying off.  That, and the fact that I'm not remotely sore tonight as I'm sitting on my couch typing.

Still, I can't help but feel a little disappointed in my performance.  I realize it's the first race of the year, and I'm definitely happy I placed so high given this was a competition between two huge Southern California triathlon clubs, Los Angeles and San Diego.  On the other hand, I have a lot of training left to do.  A lot of ground to gain.

I think my biggest lesson learned today was to arrive to the race more prepared.  I missed packet pick-up yesterday due to printing the wrong email from an LA Tri Club dispatch and screwing up the cut-off time.  So, I was a frazzled upon arrival, scrambling to put the appropriate tags and stickers on my bike minutes before needing to meet at the starting point.  This left me little time to warm-up, let alone use the restroom for my ritual pre-race jitters. There's a fine line between being relaxed before a race and being careless and unfocused. Before I knew it, I was at the starting point playing with my goggles when the gun went off unexpectedly (no countdown warning?!) to start the swim.  I wasn't even ready!  Being caught off-guard in a sprint triathlon shotgun swim start is not a good way to place high.  As a result, the rest of the swim I felt like I was playing catch-up.  It wasn't until I was halfway finished with the swim (about the 250 meter point) that I started to hit a comfortable T-pace groove.  And by then it was too late.

Fortunately, the race itself wasn't even the highlight of the day, or the weekend. While the best part of the weekend was sharing the experience with Stephanie, a close second was bonding even more with my Fortius Coaching teammates and Twitter buddies (@fittorrent, @chaibot, @rcmcoach).  What a talented and fun bunch!  Each member of the group brings a healthy attitude and friendly spirit to every practice, meeting, party and event.  It's so much better training with people you care about than slogging through the experience solo.  There were so many memorable moments with them: Saturday night at our pre-race meal, cheering wildly for each other during the rainy, cold race, and partying together afterwards for a three-hour Mexican food feast.

In the end, my teammates and Stephanie made the Desert Tri a special experience. Not the metrics themselves.

Funny that the best thing about a race can be the parts you can't measure.

261 days and counting.

4-Minute Blog Post

Instead of the Subway "$5 foot-long" jingle, I'm starting a new one: Four!  Four!  Four-Minute Blog Post!

Here we go!

6 a.m.:  swim with Fortius Coaching team.  Awesome. Fastest sustained 100 intervals yet.  1:52-1:55 pace, stroke cadence down to 20 per 25 yards. Thanks Gerardo and my lane partner, Dierdre!

Sadly, a high school swimmer from Van Nuys High seizured this morning.  Fortunately, he's OK.  His teammates were remarkably mature and supportive, for adults or kids.  I was humbled and happy for our future when I saw their display of sensitivity and compassion.

7:30 a.m.: I ran for an hour and 15 minutes doing six, three-minute intervals between heart-rate zones 4-5.  Using my new Garmin, I realized my mile time is decreasing. I'm on pace for 6:45-minute miles at this point.  Let's see how long I can sustain that though!

8:54 a.m.: On the move to the office to shower and change for work.

9:57 a.m.: At my desk, showered, breakfast in hand, with three minutes to spare.

1:26 p.m.: Returned from lunch after downing three tacos at Sharkey's and fueled up on GU and Hammer nutrition at Bicycle John's in Burbank.

6:18 p.m.: Left work to eat dinner and join the LA Tri Club at the Encino First Thursday social, sponsored by Fortius.  Nope, I didn't win anything in the raffle once again.  But, I loved seeing my fantastic teammates and friends looking their finest. They clean up nicely!

8:39 p.m.: Rushed home, dropped off my dirty gym bag, packed a new one, typed this blog, and am now back on the road for an evening out.  Gotta take advantage of my equivalent of Saturday night since there's no training planned tomorrow.

8:56 p.m.: Shutting down blog, changing clothes, rushing out the door!  Goodnight all!

PS: Thank goodness Ironman training gives you the ability to pack more into your day in a shorter amount of time...on less sleep. I'm living up to my company's studio name: I'm becoming an insomniac!

264 days and counting.