A Special Birthday

It's 6 a.m. on your birthday.  Do you:

A) Smack the clock and go back to sleep

B) Jump in the pool with your training teammates

C) Lock the front door after getting in from a long night of drinking

I went with B) this morning.  And it set the tone for a fantastic birthday.  One of my all-time favorites, in fact.  Though that had little to do with training.  The past couple years, circumstances have prevented Stephanie and I from spending my birthday together.  Today that would change, as it will for hopefully every remaining birthday.  After a Black Dog yoga session that included some inverted wall poses, Steph and I spent the afternoon together, hanging out at Paradise Cove in Malibu and now she's cooking a gourmet feast -- boeuf bourguignon.  I'm a lucky guy!  Make that a VERY lucky guy.

Usually, this is about the time that I devote a few hours to reflect on the past year and think about what I hope to accomplish in the year ahead.  Honestly, I never could have predicted a year ago where my life would be today.  I was reeling from not being with Stephanie and still really just getting my proverbial feet wet in the sport of triathlon.  Now, I'm engaged to the woman I've always loved since before we were dating and I'm training like mad for my first Ironman.  I look and feel like a different person.

What will 36 bring?  Oh, you know, besides a wedding and an Ironman!  Well, in thinking about things, I've grown a lot over the past year.  I think I'm a little more relaxed, a little more confident, a little more competitive.  A lot more grateful.  Perhaps a little wiser.  Maybe even a bit softer around the edges (I hope).  I feel like my own man, though it may have taken a little longer than expected.

Thirty-five was a year of growth and maturation.  I hope 36 brings more of the same, with a killer Ironman Arizona (maybe one more too?) time and a warm, unforgettable wedding.

Is that so much to ask?

Actually, in my renewed state of being, I'll start with a fantastic tomorrow that's unforgettable and productive.  I'll start by encouraging others to be their best, while doing my best too.  One day at a time.  If anything, my Ironman training has taught me that.

162 days and counting.

Answering a Question I Don't Want to Ask

I've slept for close to 10 hours each of the past three nights. During that span, I've biked nearly 95 miles, ran about 15, hiked another three and swam (only laps).

It was hot and windy for a good portion of those miles.

Total training time: 10 hours, not including the 2.5 hour hike.  That's between 3 1/3 and 4+ hours a day since Saturday.

Am I over-training?

Judging by my sleeping patterns and how my body feels, yeah, a little.

Can I stop?  Hell no!  I'm an addict.  I'm routinely training 15 hours a week right now -- sometimes more, sometimes less.  I know I should take a moment and reassess but with the Breath of Life national qualifier Olympic triathlon coming up on June 27 and Vineman 70.3 a few weeks later, I feel like I'm training for the high season.  I figure there will be time to rest in late July after Vineman.

That leads me to today's workouts.  I was supposed to run with Stephanie early this morning, at 6:15.  That time came and went quickly, with a fly-swat to my alarm and another two hours of sleep. I managed to fit my recovery run in on the treadmill at lunch.  I literally only ran just over four miles in 45 minutes.  To say I was dragging would be an understatement.  A friend of mine who trains at the gym religiously pointed out that sometimes you just have to log the time.  That's what got me through the workout.  Some days are just bad days.  In her words, "as long as you have one good day of training a week," that's about all you can ask for.

That seems like such a strange concept to me.  I want every workout to be my best.  That's what I expect and demand from myself.

Maybe I should ask my body nicely more often?

Despite my legs feeling like anchors, I'm heading to the pool in an hour for an evening edition of the Fortius-coached swim.  Steph is joining me, which is exciting and a little frightening all at once.  I want to show her how much I've improved in the water but I hope I have enough fuel in the tank to do it.  On top of that, I need to conserve enough energy to make tomorrow morning's 6:30 a.m. ocean speed circuit with the LA Tri Club in Santa Monica.  Followed by a brick at 5:30 p.m. at Griffith Park.

I think if it sounds like over-training, it probably is.

In that case, I've answered my own question that started this blog post.

I know I should do something about that.

I just can't promise that I will.

169 days and counting.

Work-Life Balance

Today is one of those moments where I'm so glad I have work-life balance.  When the two intersect and blend harmoniously, life is so much better.  Of course, I only know this to be true after years of emphasizing (OK, over-emphasizing) the "work" part of the equation.  It's only taken me close to 15 years in the workforce before I found a better balance.  Along with one heck of a company that I've called home for 6.5 years now. I was responsible for helping manage a big news announcement from our company this morning.  Normally, this would mean putting my life on hold (possibly for up to a week in advance) to plan and obsess over every detail myself, along with executing and following up.  Fortunately, I have a great group of teammates and have finally taken to heart that my job is no longer to "do" as much as it is to help plan, manage and motivate.  (That's a hard lesson to learn for a competitive guy like me.)  As a result, I was still able to squeeze two quality workouts in -- one before work at 6 a.m. in the pool, and another at 6 p.m. in the gym with the weights.  In between, my team and I worked hard to stay on top of the news cycle.

The pool workout was pretty grueling.  We had a series of sprints between 50 and 100 yards to establish our T-pace for the workout.  Then, we added a few seconds to it and tried to hit a specific time with little rest over the duration of the sets.  It pretty much rocked me.  At the end of the day, I blasted through five sets of three different exercises, with two sets of 15 reps for each.  I was pretty spent after the lifting and about 10-15 minutes of abs work.

In the end, as I sit here with my head spinning after an exciting and exhausting day, I'm thrilled about how everything turned out.  The announcement was a big success, with a potentially delicate situation that I believe we turned into a positive with our fans and the press.  But I'm just as elated about being able to fit in my training without feeling stressed out about either my work or athletic performance.  Neither suffered.  If I can continue to maintain this kind of mental and physical balance over the long haul, I think it can only enhance my overall quality of life.

Which is good, considering Stephanie insists on me living as long as she plans to!

I'm trying, honey.  I'm trying!

176 days and counting.

You Might Be a Triathlon Addict...

Remember Jeff Foxworthy's hilarious "you might be a redneck..." rants? I think I've got a variation, albeit a slightly less humorous one.  It came to me just now while I was sitting on my couch(on my day off from training) watching Stage 6 of the Amgen Tour of California...for the second time today.

"You might be a triathlon addict..."

Here goes:

You might be a triathlon addict if you watch the live online stream of a cycling race and then go home to catch the HD TV version, just for the amazing views and cyclist interviews.

You might be a triathlon addict if you realize that shaving your chest is no longer "manscaping" but rather a necessary step to reducing your swim time.

You might be a triathlon addict if you spend 30 minutes in a Sports Chalet to pick out the perfect swimsuit...since the last two were thrown out mercifully by your fiancee because people could see your butt crack.

You might be a triathlon addict if five minutes in a bike shop for Co2 cartridges turns into 30 minutes because you're debating whether you should put anything but Italian components on an Italian-made frame.  The answer is no.

You might be a triathlon addict if you get just as geeked up meeting and befriending an age-group triathlete pro as you would a football, baseball or basketball star. That happened to me this week, courtesy of Caleb Sponholtz on Team Sirius.

You might be a triathlon addict if you're planning to leave work early on Monday to meet Mark Cavendish at a local bike shop.

You might be a triathlon addict if you check the waitlist for the Vineman 70.3 practically daily even though you know the likelihood of being admitted to the race is all but guaranteed and has been for weeks. Better safe than sorry, I say.

You might be a triathlon addict if you sob like a melodramatic teen girl watching the Ford Ironman World Championships DVD.  Did that earlier this week.

You might be a triathlon addict if in your free time you link corporate sponsors up with elite amateur and pro triathlete teams.  Been doing that with Jack Black's Performance Remedy line of men's skin care products.

You might be a triathlon addict if you think of multi-tasking like transition times, looking for every possible opportunity to shave unnecessary wasteful time out of your day.

You might be a triathlon addict if you shave your legs.

Guess I'm not a triathlon addict then!  Ha!

Yet.

188 days and counting.

Big Brick

I embedded the details of my Sunday brick in the post above.  I can't figure out how to embed in the post properly yet.  But I think the duration of the workout (hopefully) speaks for itself. Of course, it was yesterday's workout -- not today's.  I was so busy powering through a five-hour brick and rushing to a neighborhood potluck dinner and then rushing to my buddy TJ's house to catch the finale of The Pacific (best one of the series) that by the time I got home...I had zero energy to blog last night.

I apologize to both of you who read this blog daily.

I'm back now, with a vengeance.  Actually, it's just a quiet night at home and an off-day for training.  I didn't get one last week so today's is most welcome.  Though my legs feel like lead after climbing 5,663 feet on the bike in Malibu, swimming a mile in 57-degree ocean water and lightly jogging a couple miles after the bike. I hope I don't sink to the bottom of the pool tomorrow morning with our Fortius team swim!

I learned a few things during yesterday's epic day of climbing Encinal and Piuma canyon roads.  They were probably more powerful observations as they were occurring in the heat of the moment, but at least 24 hours of rumination  can distill things down to their core.  So here goes:

-- Hill climbs are getting easier.  As you can see by the speeds involved, Mike, Karen, Frank, Richard and I weren't going too fast up any of the hill climbs. But, outside of the latter part of Piuma, my heart rate remained low and steady.  I never felt winded, except at the top of Piuma as massive blankets of fog rolled over the mountain peaks directly overhead, sending headwind blasts directly in our path.  I think the best way to build stamina on the bike is long, slow, and steady hill climbing.  Rinse, wash, repeat.

-- Cycling is a dangerous sport.  Two friends of mine, one of them being Anat, went down in accidents this weekend.  Neither accident was their fault nor could have been prevented.  Anat crashed on Pacific Coast Highway, which further gives me the jitters because of the number of people who crashed their last year.  I used to think that road was among the safest and most scenic.  Now I realize it's probably safer up steep hillsides than down by the ocean. Please, ride with caution on PCH.  Don't follow too close.  Watch the car doors.

-- Ocean swimming gets more and more enjoyable with more and more practice.  Many of my friends don't understand how I can enjoy ocean swimming.  There are the creepy crawly critters, for instance.  The polluted water.  The tides.  The seaweed.  The sand.  You know what?  Once you get past the surf, it's calm.  Once you channel out the cold, it's comfortable.  Once you accept your peaceful insignificance in the giant ocean, swimming is a total joy.  It's rhythmic.  Hypnotic.  And something I never thought I'd say a couple years ago.  Further, if you're training for an Ironman with a large open-water swim, I suggest swimming in some really cold water at some point before your race just to be mentally prepared.

-- My friend Karen is really improving on the bike!  After Frank bowed out of the climb due to mechanical problems with his shifting cables and Richard went home due to a bum knee, Karen braved riding alone behind Mike and me.  And she not only did so admirably, but Karen outright powered up Piuma -- only .25 miles behind Mike and me at the summit.  On the steep descents, something she's admittedly uncomfortable with, Karen kept up.  I was super proud of her and impressed.  It's really nice to see improvement happening right before your eyes.  Karen's one of my favorite triathletes because she embodies the spirit of the sport.  She's tenacious and flat-out battles through anything.  I can relate to that mentality and have that much more respect for it as a result.

There's much more I could write but I'm shutting it down for the night.  I've got another busy week ahead and a 6 a.m. date at the pool.  Good night everyone!

192 days and counting.

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.

Karmic Pizza

I have discovered the elusive missing link to achieving a great triathlon race result.

Pizza.

But not just any pizza.  This is a special kind.  And instead of eating it, you must give it away to someone in need before your race.  It doesn't really matter when in the day that happens.  In return, if you're lucky, the pizza recipient will wish you a good race and shower cosmic karma upon you.

I know this to be true, because that's exactly what happened to me the day before posting a 2:54:00 Wildflower Olympic time this past Sunday, 10 minutes faster than my predicted best-case scenario, good for a top 50 finish in my age group (top 23%) and top 26% among all men.  I even saw all my swim training pay off with a 29:36 mile swim, breaking the 30-minute mark for the first time and beating my old personal best open-water swim by four minutes.

I need to find more pizza to give away!

Here's what happened.  My buddy Dustin and I were waiting in the stands near the finish line for our friend Darrin to finish the long-course, which ran the day before the Olympic race.  Darrin had a long day but demonstrated what it meant to persevere over adversity.  He snapped his chain within the first mile of the bike portion, walked the bike a mile back to our RV camper, fixed the chain (pictured below), walked his bike back to the course and was on his way.  While we were waiting for Darrin, Dustin and I both felt mid-afternoon hunger pangs.  I went on a scouting mission for pizza and on my way back with two slices in hand, a girl who had just completed the long course walked up next to me and said, "I could attack you for a slice of that pizza right now!"

After a little banter back-and-forth, I realized she might not be joking.

I told the girl, whose name I never got, to follow me back to the stands.  Once I gave Dustin his slice, I tore half of my pizza and gave it to the girl. Even though she protested at first, she quickly relented.  After doing so, she looked up at me, smiled wide and said, "You are going to have the race of a lifetime tomorrow.  You just got a TON of race karma.  You are going to kick major ass."

Instead of making a joke back or some self-deprecating comment, I did something I normally don't do when someone says something nice to or about me...I simply said, "Thanks, I hope so."

So it was wished, so it occurred.

And I have pizza to thank.  So there you go, fellow triathletes...you can train as hard as you want, but maybe simply doing something nice for a fellow racer will put you in the best position to achieve your goals.

In the end, while the race itself was a special moment for me, it was overshadowed by the "one and only" experience that is Wildflower.  There were a reported 30,000 people on hand to witness the weekend's activities.  And many of them dotted the entire race course cheering on athletes of all abilities.  I can say that in least two spots on the bike and at least three on the run I received a much-needed adrenaline boost just from the encouragement.  (The bikini-clad college girls handing out water at the aid stations helped a little too.)  The crowd was at its finest in the stands near the finish line, where runners' gritty and sometimes-grinning facial expressions told lengthy tales of dedication, sacrifice and determination.  I welled up with tears on Saturday at least five times watching fathers pick up their children to run to the end with them, or small children high-fiving strangers as they passed by.  Or couples holding hands while running to the finish together.

The magic of the sport is not solely possessed by the elite. Far from it.  It's a form of karmic pizza all its own, where triumphant finishers give back energy to the crowd as much if not more than what they're gaining by completing a massive personal challenge.

We think we're taking, gaining, obtaining, and striving.  But really, we're giving, sharing, encouraging and caring.

If you haven't been to Wildflower, go.  Even if you don't race, go.  There's a reason it's called the "one and only."

And if you've been to Wildflower, let's sign up again for next year.

I'll even bring the pizza.

204 days and counting.

Tough Tuesday

I figured after a Mellow Monday that I'd have all kinds of energy to train today. False.

Maybe it was the sushi, tempura and teriyaki chicken I downed at 9 p.m. last night following yoga practice.  Causing me to pee at least three times that I can remember during the course of the evening (in the toilet, mind you). Maybe it was the delayed effects of my Sunday workouts.  Probably a combination of both.

Whatever it was, when I entered the pool this morning for our twice-weekly Fortius coached workout, I quickly realized I wasn't in top form.  I suppose the first indication of what was to come should have been the gauntlet of sprinklers that teammate Nico and I dodged to avoid being drenched in our sweats.  It was like a timing puzzle in a video game.

Inside the pool, I dragged almost from the get-go.  My lane's warm-up 400 was cut short -- probably because I was too slow!  From there, my teammates and I proceeded to slog through two sets of 400-yard sprints (100 build, 200 fast, 100 race).  This proved to be an especially frustrating experience.  Last week, I felt I had a breakthrough in technique that allowed me to swim faster.  In other words, I could keep up with the faster swimmers.

This morning, I was brought back to reality.  Both Ann and Jenna asked if they could pass me in between sets.  They might as well have said, "Dude, get back to the slow lane where you belong!"  I was holding them back. Not a good feeling, but I knew it was true.  And there wasn't much I could do about it at that point.  I was tired.

The rest of the hour-long session didn't go much better.  In fact, things degenerated to pure comedy at one point.  Megan, our swim coach and teammate, was trying to teach how to scissor kick.  Ann, Lisa and Jenna all knew how and were quite effortless.  I looked like I was being electrocuted, spasming wildly while trying to avoid swallowing loads of water.  Turns out that's especially difficult when everyone is laughing at you!

It became such a comical distraction that Megan sent me to my own lane.  Talk about a demotion!  I was sent to my "special place" for the rest of class, for private instruction on how to stay afloat while scissor kicking and gliding on my back.

I'm not sure what the point of all that kicking and bobbing was, but I do know it tired me out much more than expected.  When I came home after the workout, I crawled back into bed.  I was done with workouts for the day.  Cancel that 45-minute spin session.

I'm trying hard not to put much stock into today's debacle of a workout.  I'll chalk it up to fatigue and just needing a bit more rest.  After all, I did train two hours extra last week compared to what was scheduled.  And everyone has a bad performance every once in a while, right?  I  mean, as a Lakers fan, I just point to Kobe and what's going on in our playoffs right now. (BTW, I predicted the Lakers would win in six.  Now, I think they'll win in seven.)

Of course, nobody will compare me to Kobe, or in this instance, Michael Phelps.

I'm going to shake off today's practice and focus on tomorrow's brick workout.  I'll have had more than 24 hours rest and should be good-to-go.

211 days and counting.

Just Another Manic Sunday

So how was my Sunday? Swimming and running and yoga, oh my!

Followed by a special dinner in Newport Beach with Stephanie's family celebrating Mr. Van Schaik's 63rd birthday.

Just got home. Absolutely exhausted! Non-stop action from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. will do that.

But it really was a great day. It started off with my longest ocean swim ever, a 1.5-plus mile jaunt in Marina del Rey with my Fortius Teammates and the LA Tri Club.  I was surprised at how easy the duration of the swim was, though I wasn't pushing hard.  Richard and I stopped a few times to chat, spot our pier marker and look or other swimmers around us.  Coach Gerardo even made a cameo swimming with us, still basking in his rightfully deserved glow of a 3:15 Boston Marathon time last Monday.

After the swim, it was time to run for an hour.  Most of the group was going to eat breakfast but I needed to fit my workout in since we had plans this evening.  My Fortius teammate, Paul, joined me for the run or I would have been on my own.  Paul is competing in his first full Ironman, St. George, this coming Saturday, along with our teammates Lisa and Christina.  We talked a lot about his thoughts going into St. George.  His preparation.  His mental state.  His goals.  What's next.

It's funny, but even though I'm not competing this coming weekend in St. George, a piece of me will be there.  Only I and and a few others really know the hard work that Paul, Lisa and Christina have invested in this massive achievement.  And while each of them fully deserve the accolades that come with competing an Ironman, a small part of me feels like I'm attached to the experience too.  Like a bench player on a basketball team that never sees actual game time but knows his contributions in practice make the starters -- those who do actually play -- better.

I capped off the training portion of my day with a 1.5 hour restorative yoga session at Black Dog.  The deep stretches, especially in my shoulders and hips, hurt and softened me in the best possible way.  I'm returning again tomorrow night for a 7 p.m. session, along with Steph.  The rest of my training week is quite light in preparation for Wildflower.  Ah, Wildflower...I had forgotten about you for a few days.  Let's hope this taper goes better than my LA Marathon training.

G'night all.

213 days and counting.

Runnin Runnin Runnin

Technically, my workout started today at 6 a.m. and continued through 8:40 a.m., when I wrapped up a treadmill run in our office complex gym. But it feels like I haven't gotten off that darned machine all day!

I'm currently at McCarron Airport in Las Vegas, waiting to return home.  I left five hours ago, or less than two hours after my workout.  My body isn't sweaty, but the brain is soaked.  Of course, I loved the challenge of it all -- could I stay motivated and engaged essentially for 12-hours straight even after burning 1,200-1,500 calories?  Forgetting all that for a moment, I'm more proud of having the discipline to finish both workouts before my trip than the successful meetings that occurred in Sin City.  It would have been so easy to sleep in this morning, rationalizing that I needed to be 100% focused on work.

Or, I could take the more challenging path and do everything -- without compromises.

My choice was rewarded in the pool.  At the end of our Fortius-coached session, we swam a 100 for time.

Last time we did this, I clocked in at 1:37, a personal best.  That was so last week.

Today, I shaved five seconds of that time.  And I know I can go faster!

Clearly, I've made a breakthrough here.  I can tell I'm gliding through the water more effortlessly.  My downstroke underwater is generating more power, while my arms are more relaxed on the upstroke.  My abs are more engaged when I rotate between strokes, and I'm using my lats more to pull more water back.  If I can continue working on my follow-through, I'll shave even more time.

I never thought I'd say this, but I'm excited by swimming now.  I've shown the most improvement in this area and is the most obvious indicator of how my Fortius team training is paying off.

The only downside right now in my training is my sore right knee.  I can still run fast and strong, but I've never had knee problems before.  The tendinitis is starting to worry me.  I have a massage next week with David (@labodymechanics), a member of our Fortius team.  This will be more of a pre-race tune-up but maybe we'll be able to poke around the knee region to see what's going on.  I hope it's minor.

Flight is leaving soon, so it's time to run again.

Been nice to hit the pause button though!  However brief it has been.

216 days and counting.