Thursday Night, the New Saturday Night

As you can tell, I take my Ironman training pretty seriously (some would say too seriously). That typically translates to mornings and lunchtimes booked for workouts, with evenings often ending a little early so I have enough energy to renew the cycle the next morning.

Today was no different, as I was on the trainer for an hour and in the gym for half an hour. The workouts were OK. I put in the time and effort but probably could have gone a bit harder on the bike to raise the heart-rate higher.

Through this entire experience though, I'm learning I need one night, at least one night, where I can go out and unwind with a friend or two and not worry about missing a workout the next day.

That night seems to occur every Thursday, since I don't train on Fridays. Tonight was no exception.

Fortunately, I had some added cause to celebrate. I learned today that I earned a pay raise at work, which I wanted to celebrate and savor a little. Of course, since my ex-girlfriend is no longer in the picture, I wasn't sure how to celebrate or with whom. So I took myself out to dinner at my favorite Indian food restaurant, Salomi in North Hollywood (Chicken Makhani 4tw!). It was delicious as usual. From there, I met a career mentor of mine, Joe, for drinks at a club in downtown LA. The drinks were superb and the lengthy conversation was better.

It was just what I needed. A night out. An escape. Something besides the normal routine. Laughter. Reminiscing. And even some inspiration.

It's funny what even just a couple drinks and a leisurely evening out can do for my mental outlook on training. I am excited for my day off from training tomorrow, but am now looking forward to Saturday's long bike ride and swim brick whereas I couldn't say that at the beginning of the day. Even though some might argue that a few drinks might take the edge off, I find that it sharpens my resolve to refocus and re-commit to my training.

But for now, as I type from my bed, the drinks make me sleepy. Which is also an added benefit during this transition period in my life.

Good night, world.

314 days and counting.

Training Saves the Day

Yesterday, my training almost killed me. Literally.

Today, it probably saved me.

I awoke this morning to the soothing sounds of rain splatting downward from the rooftop drains. It was dark, drizzly, and delightfully miserable.

Perfect weather to stay in, rationalize not training, and be a little mopey.

Instead, I donned a hoodie, track pants and my trail runners and took off for Van Nuys-Sherman Oaks park for a damp, muddy one hour, 20-minute training run.

I didn't want to go, I was already warm and comfy inside. But I knew I needed it. Not just the running aspect for my upcoming marathon, but the endorphin rush that came with it.

I didn't sleep well last night. It felt like Phase I of grieving my lost relationship (Denial) had ended and I was spiraling rapidly into a combination Phase II-IV (Anger, Bargaining, Depression) "triple whammy" scenario. Not good. Not healthy.

But, I fought the urge to give in to that dark place. I'd rather fight the rain than the pain, so to speak.

I'm so glad I did. In fact, the sun poked out for a bit about 20 minutes into my slogging/jogging, right after my eight, 20-second hill sprints. It almost felt like a metaphor for me right now in my life... if you accept what appears to be a crappy situation and try to make the best of it, the sun may poke through when you least expect it.

The same thing happened this evening. I had a dentist appointment at 4 p.m. (I need to fill a cavity, dammit!) and found myself with free time around 6. I was at home and could have stayed there, but once again I felt a case of the doldrums closing in. It would have been so easy to sit on the couch and stare at a wall thinking "woe is me!" but I grudgingly rallied and drove to Calabasas to swim 2,800 yards worth of intervals.

Once again, I'm so glad I did. My outlook now is 1,000 times better than when I started fighting traffic on the 101 Freeway to get to the pool. And, I'm physically exhausted, so I should sleep a little better tonight.

In fact, I'm signing off now to go do just that.

315 days and counting.

Beautiful (Dangerous) Day

Trudy and Bam-Bam struck again in the wee hours this morning.

Like at 5:19 a.m., to be precise. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump! That is what I awoke to this morning, rapid steps pounding across the ceiling directly over my head. It sounded like mortar rounds pounding a concrete bunker. Literally, my walls shook briefly and it wasn't even an earthquake.

So, after cursing the heavens and trying unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, I arose 45 minutes later to start my 1.5 hour bike ride sooner than expected. I was treated to a spectacular sunrise from my balcony.

Seriously, just stare at that for a second and tell me there isn't a G-d.

The ride wasn't too bad either, when I wasn't dodging traffic on Burbank Boulevard once again near Balboa Park. Man, rush hour drivers are the worst! Cyclists seem to be worth 10 points on the Road Kill game scale. I was honked at, cursed, buzzed at close distance... essentially the most hated man on the road!

I get it, but I don't. People are rushing to work and apparently I'm in their way, even if I'm in the bike lane. Like it's some massive inconvenience to move just a few feet over to accommodate my legal right to share the road. Like their boss is going to fire them for being 30 seconds later than normal because some jackass cyclist prevented them from going 65 in a 40 mile-per-hour zone. Geesh!

Still, the ride itself was pleasant (and challenging), for the most part. The task at hand was to ride for an hour and 15 minutes, with 40 of those minutes being non-stop in zone 3 heart-rate (142-154 bpm) in a bigger gear than preferred riding between 80-90 rpm. Whether it was from stress or exercise, I accomplished the mission. I rode 13.3 miles in 40 minutes, with brief stops or slowing included. I essentially averaged 20 mph in a trafficked area, which makes me think I can ride faster than 20, possibly 21-22 mph, consistently at a tempo pace.

I think I'm getting faster!

The ride home was simply harrowing. I need a new route if I'm going to be near Balboa Park past 8:15 a.m. The 405 Freeway overpass at Burbank is insanely busy, and Sepulveda at Ventura Boulevard is just as bad. Not good for cyclists (duh!). I literally started riding on the sidewalk because the streets were jammed with angry motorists.

I love my training, but today felt a bit like I was practically begging to be hit by a car. There's got to be a better place in the Valley to ride hard and fast in the morning without being a target.

Maybe when Trudy and Bam-Bam start knockin', I'll have to get up early to start rockin'.

316 days and counting.

Easy Does It

Today's training session was a little easy, but I'm not complaining.

Fortunately, my friend from high school, Dustin, made my swim much more enjoyable. We met up at the Calabasas Tennis & Swim Center for his second swim since committing to his first triathlon this summer. It makes such a difference knowing there's a buddy in the swim lane next to you waking up early and going through the same training regimen.

My swim was supposed to be a recovery workout. Several long, easy sets with cadence between 45-55 strokes per minute, followed by five-100 yard sprints at 90% capacity with 30-second rest intervals between each 100.

Usually, I'm hitting 48-50 strokes per minute on my cadence. I was consistently 50-52 strokes today, most likely the result of this weekend's thrashing. But my 100 times were improving. I hit 1:53 (probably close to a personal best for me), followed by 2:00, 2:00, 2:03 and 1:59.

The rest of the day was as smooth outside the water as I felt in it. I finished a presentation for a big meeting tomorrow that I now feel well-prepared for, and my team is performing with good energy and focus.

In short, I feel good.

Tomorrow, I've got a power bike ride for an hour and 15 minutes. I need to figure out where I can get that ride in where it's not too busy at 7:30 a.m. Candidates at this point are Balboa Park, Balboa/Rinaldi/Valley Circle, San Fernando Road, or San Vicente in Brentwood.

But for now, I'm going to bask in being caught up with my personal business, my work business, and my training business. A whole hour of free time! What to do... what to do.

I stayed true to my vow in yoga yesterday...take it easy. And, so far, easy indeed does it.

317 days and counting.

Progress!

The Valley Coach group met this morning at 8 at the Cheseboro Park in Old Agoura, the site of my first trail run.

The first time I ran it this past November, my IT bands were bothering me around the 12th mile, I had succumbed to peer pressure by running more than I was assigned to, and I ultimately regretted it all day with soreness. In short, not a very fun run.

Not this time.

Decked out in my new Asics 2140GT trail runners and Amphipod running belt, I was ready to run. Perhaps part of the eagerness stemmed from the large contingent of Valley Coach athletes, LA Tri Clubbers and friends of the group who showed up. The energy level was high, as were the jokes and smiles. Even if it was chilly by my own weather-wuss standards, it was a great way to start the day.

The run itself was even more pleasant than expected. What I mean is that after last Sunday's depressing solo jog, I've concluded it's far more fun to chat with friends throughout the duration of the run. Keeps me from thinking about the run itself, or anything else remotely negative. Today, I got to know Lisa (now in her seventh triathlon season) and Paul (a former producer at Electronic Arts responsible for NBA Street, one of my favorite PlayStation 2 games).

Of course, it was still hard to watch most of the runners take off ahead of me from the start. Fortunately, Gerardo's brother Ray stayed with me and kept me company. I'm still confined to zones 1-2 on flat ground and zone 3 heart-rate on the hills, although I'm not sure it would have made much of a difference. Still, I know I'm hitting my goals from Coach Gerardo's workout plan. And I earned some validation from Christina, who said I should be stoked on my weekend performance considering I essentially cycled 60 miles and swam nearly two miles back-to-back, and followed that up today with what was probably at least a 13-mile run. She thinks I could be ready for an Ironman in four months if I wanted to, but that I'll be in spectacular shape by Ironman Arizona. Considering she's done two Ironmans, that praise was very flattering and encouraging.

As the run concluded, I realized that I hadn't bonked, my legs weren't tight or in pain, and that I was still hydrated (for the most part).

Progress! I felt much better than just a month or so ago doing the same run. What a feeling of accomplishment.

After the run, I had my bike tuned up at Bicycle John's in Agoura. If you are local and looking for a great cycling shop, Bicycle John's is my favorite. The staff is knowledgeable and friendly without being pushy. The shop has a nice frequent buyer's plan so you can earn discounts along the way, and the selection of parts, bikes and apparel is first-rate.

From there, I caught up with one of my closest friends, TJ, who was back in town from his Florida vacation. It was nice to reconnect again after two weeks.

Finally, the weekend wound down in what I think will become a new tradition: a "restorative yoga" session at Black Dog Yoga. If you haven't taken a restorative yoga class, especially on a Sunday night, it's the perfect way to segue from the weekend into the week ahead. Most of the poses are relaxing stretches held for long periods of time. The intensity is low, but the relaxation factor is very high, enhanced with aromatherapy oils by request.

The best part of the class is focusing on your inner intention for the moment, and if you'd like, the week ahead. I vowed to take it easy this week on myself in terms of letting go some of the angst from my last relationship, and to take it easy on others should I find my patience running low.

I will try to carry that intention out.

318 days and counting. Namaste.

The 3,100 Yard Stare

To give you an idea of how I felt at the end of my bike/swim workout today, I sat in a chair in the pool locker room with my legs elevated, eating an apple, staring at a wall. Watching my calves twitch and shake like each had its own distinct heart beat.

For 15 minutes.

I couldn't move. Frozen. Dazed. Exhausted. I had that "1,000 yard stare" that comes with shell shock.

Like the EAS sports drink ad, "Now I'm done."

Boy, was I ever.

Before the hour and a half of swimming featuring 1,600 yards of threshold-pace intervals, the Valley Coach group rode for four hours, tallying 3,500 feet of climbing and 58.6 miles -- including a brief stop to say hello to the local Lake Sherwood goose population. The bike ride equated to 2012 calories for me.

That was before the swim.

After a brief lunch break with fitness stud Vinnie Tortorich and his charming family, it was off to the pool. Then, what seemed like the longest swim workout ever ensued (because it was for me, by 300 yards, a personal record). It took a lot of willpower not to throw in the towel, so to speak, and end the workout early. My shoulders ached. My stomach was tight. I had forgotten workout details because I forgot to review the plan on my email beforehand.

But, with some improvisation, I finished the workout. Both of them. Brick complete.

The reward? Staying home on a Saturday night. My first weekend night alone without plans since my breakup. Fortunately, there's a lot to do around here. I've neglected all sorts of household chores, so tonight is as good a night as any to get them done.

I'm surprised at how mellow I've been about the breakup. And it's not like I haven't had plenty of time alone to dwell on it. I keep waiting for the big depression to set in. The wallowing. The misery. The anguish. The self-torture.

It hasn't happened. I can't tell if I'm too tired to make a fuss, or if I'm at peace with the whole thing, or still surprised that it's all over. Maybe it's a bit of everything. Either way, I'm moving forward. I'm actually kinda proud of myself so far.

Whether it's been on the road, in the pool or in my own head-space, I haven't quit on myself. I hope I can continue to remain that strong.

Tell ya what though, I guarantee that when I hit the bed tonight it will be with a peaceful thud.

Now I'm done.

319 days and counting.

Friday, the New Sunday

Ahhh, I remember those leisurely weekends when I could do whatever I wanted. All day. Sleep in? No problem! Take a road trip? Let's go!

And then along came Ironman training. Six days a week of training, so far up to 15 hours per week. And rising.

Except on Fridays. My day off from training. My day of do-whatever-the-heck-I-want (except eat junk or drink too much!).

When I'm not working at the office, that is.

Even with working a full day, it still feels like a day off. It's the serenity of knowing I don't have to put in a few hours of training, squeezing it in between work and having a life. It's not that I don't enjoy the training (I do), but the stress of fitting it all in and meeting my assigned hours is what gets to me. So, on one day each week, I don't have to worry about that. I like that day a lot.

Tonight, I am spending my free time with my parents. They made me dinner (and dessert) and I'm picking my car up from my father's automotive repair shop, located in Simi Valley.

I feel spoiled. And I'm not complaining one bit. Homemade chicken with cous-cous, homemade split pea soup, and my personal weakness, My-T-Fine chocolate pudding.

I don't care what kind of training regimen I'm on, you will NOT separate me from my chocolate pudding. Period. Don't mess with my puddin'!

Of course, the conversation and relaxation with my folks is the best part. I realize how lucky I am to be able to have a close relationship with my family. We're not a perfect family, not by any stretch. But we are a tight-knit one.

I'm currently watching my dad try to play one of the video games my company develops, Ratchet & Clank Future: A Crack in Time. It's an exercise in joy and frustration. He's enraptured in the universe and deriving a great deal of joy from the experience even though his character is dying more than a zombie on Groundhog Day. Yet he keeps trying. Very rarely getting frustrated, finding excitement and insight with every new opportunity to make progress in the game.

I never thought I'd be inspired by my dad playing a PS3 game, but here I am realizing that's just what's happening. He's slogging through a new experience, one that he's admittedly not the best at. He's not giving up. He's still laughing. Still learning. Still finding the fun.

Even though my dad is the one progressing through the game, I'm the one who experienced the payoff tonight.

320 days and counting, but now I'm actually looking forward to 319.

"He is Beginning to Believe..."

There's a scene in the original "The Matrix" where Neo realizes what he's capable of doing with his mind. It's at that point when his mentor, Morpheus, says, "He is beginning to believe."

That's sort of how I feel about my training right now.

Not that I'm "The One" like Neo. Far from it. What I mean is that after a long workout today of swimming 2,800 yards worth of intervals followed by sprints and heart-rate zone 3 running, I can notice I'm performing better and recovering a little quicker. That's with an increase in swim distance and length while adding some intensity to the run workouts.

I'm beginning to believe that by the time Ironman Arizona rolls around, I will be in better shape and better prepared than I can possibly imagine right now. That's very, very exciting.

It's like knowing I'm about to learn a bunch of kick-ass new powers if I just free my mind, so to speak. I am ready to do that.

I also did today's workout as a brick since I took the day off from work. My buddy Frank offered me his extra ticket to the BCS title game between Texas (he's a UT alum) and Alabama at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.

Yes, the same Frank whom I accidentally let a refrigerator slam into his shoulder when we were moving it to his new home. Who's still forced to wear a sling and can't cycle for several weeks.

I'm glad he doesn't hold grudges!

Despite the injury to quarterback Colt McCoy early in the game, Texas fought hard throughout in their 37-21 loss to the Crimson Tide. I was especially impressed with the Longhorns' backup QB, Garrett Gilbert. He's a true freshman and was thrust into the biggest game of his life having only thrown 26 passes his entire college career. It took him a while to believe too (probably the entire first half), but eventually Gilbert got into a rhythm and kept the game closer than it should have been.

Look out for this kid in a couple years. I think he'll be something special.

Of course, as I prepare for bedtime, I checked my upcoming training schedule for the weekend. Just when I'm beginning to believe I'm about to head to that proverbial next level of fitness, that I'm getting the hang of this training regimen...the plan changes. Doesn't it always?

After my day off from training tomorrow (Friday is my new favorite day of the week!), Saturday will feature a four-hour bike ride through the Calabasas-Oak Park area followed by 3,100 yards of tempo-training swim intervals.

Ugh.

Now, I feel like Neo as he leaps off the building thinking he can make it to the other side... only to fall flat on his face on the ground.

Guess that's the only way to get better, right?

Neo dusted himself off and tried again eventually. So will I.

Texas dusted itself off after losing Colt McCoy and fought hard against 'Bama. So will I.

321 days and counting.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Today between training sessions (swim and run in the misty rain), I went to the Annenberg Space for Photography in Century City for an exhibit of sports photography (which I highly recommend, btw). Two of the greatest sports photographers of our time had their works on display, Walter Iooss and Neil Leifer. You've seen their work. Ali standing over Liston? Leifer. Jordan's signature free-throw line dunk in the '88 Slam Dunk Contest? Iooss. And the list goes on and on.

As I walked past the gallery of the most famous and memorable sports images of the past 50 years, I couldn't help but wonder what would the image look like when I cross the finish line at the Ironman this coming November. Would I have a look of exuberance like Sandy Koufax when he won the final game of the 1963 World Series against the Yankees? Would I look defeated, like one of the grass-stained, mud-soaked NFL players from the 1960s? Would there be a steely look of focus on my face like Jackie Joyner-Kersee from the 1992 Olympics?

Hopefully we won't see a look of tortured anguish like Mary Decker from the 1984 Olympics.

Then, after thinking about all that, I realized something as I walked back to my car. I was thinking when i finish the Ironman. Not if.

329 days and counting.

A Christmas Test

For most normal folks, Christmas time means relaxing and celebrating with friends and family.

Guess this is another reason I'm not exactly what you'd call normal.

Today marked the four-week mark of my training with Valley Coach, which means it's a test week to re-calibrate heart rate zones. I checked off running and swimming earlier, so today was about the bike. My favorite.

The assignment was to work my heart-rate up to 153 bpm and then maintain a 90-100 pedal stroke per minute cadence for 20 minutes. Distance, cadence, heart-rate and average speed would all factor into the equation. Of course, the equation became muddied since my ever-finicky speedometer wasn't working. This required using some dreaded (and dreadful) math and my car's odometer to figure out my average speed. I wasn't thrilled with the result, not because of my performance but precisely the opposite...I could've sworn I was moving faster! At least the average 154 bpm was encouraging.

Once I posted my results, Coach Gerardo changed my HR settings ever so slightly lower. I'm curious to see how much of a difference this makes in my training. He reassured me that this isn't a "bad or a good thing", it's more of a statement on where I'm at fitness-wise. I suppose only the next four weeks will tell if I'm making real progress. It's too soon to say right now. With all this training, I really hope so. I'm not quite sure what I'd do if I didn't see any progress for all this time, training and money invested.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

The highlight of the morning was once again discovering a new part of SoCal. This time, I explored the nature trails at the Sepulveda Dam in Balboa Park. This was part of a very slow and leisurely 45-minute jog prior to the cycling test. I saw all sorts of birds throughout the run, usually nestled together on small man-made islands on the lake. It almost looked like they, too, were celebrating the holidays in their own quiet way. Peaceful. Calm. Happy. Graceful.

Tomorrow I have the day off from training. I'm not sure how I'll spend the holiday just yet. But there are five NBA games on (including Lakers-Cavs) TV so I'll start there. I also bought groceries to cook myself breakfast, which I haven't done in a long time.

To the people who actually read this blog (and have read this far), I hope you have a terrific holiday. I hope it's filled with family, happiness and harmony. My personal gift will be a day off from training!

335 days and counting.

Merry Christmas to all.