I Want My Routine Back!

Most people would love to be in San Francisco on a beautiful day for a convention.  Especially a video games convention. Not me, to be honest.  Not after nearly 15 years of conventions and conferences spanning the automotive, consumer electronics, entertainment and video games industries.

I love the video games industry, don't get me wrong.  I really do!  I'm truly passionate about the creativity and innovation within the space, but most of all I love the energy associated with a group of young people changing daily how the world perceives this electric, eclectic art form (yes, it's an art).  I participated in a panel discussion addressing some of these points and many others today during the convention itself.

So while I love the video games industry, I've arrived at a place in life where I love my lady, sleep, nutrition and exercise even more.  My routine.  And conventions aren't exactly conducive to a healthy routine.  Or at least my slightly obsessive routine during the past several months.  Fortunately, today was an off-day in my training cycle so it was easier to have a "normal" convention day filled with mediocre food, loud noise, standing on my feet all day and partying later than normal.  The convention routine, in other words.  Tomorrow, it's back to the training grind.  I'll try to cram in an hour time-trial run along with an hour of yoga while trying to catch a flight home and wrapping up morning sessions at the conference.  Not exactly sure where I'm going to find the time to fit everything in but it's really not an option.  With just about 10 days to go until the LA Marathon, I simply cannot miss a day of running from here until the race.

I remember just a few years ago how eager I was to take business trips all over the world.  And I was fortunate enough to have that opportunity many times over.  Now, I just want to stay home and maintain my training routine. Is that wrong?  Am I old now?  Is this what lame feels like?

I don't know, and I don't really care.  I've been on the road for not even three days and it feels like a week.  I want my routine back!

I love you, San Francisco, but get me out of here!  Get me home!

257 days and counting.

Triathlon Season Approacheth

In two days I'll be kicking off the 2010 triathlon season with the Desert Triathlon near La Quinta, Calif.

This marks the start of my second full season in the sport, though I completed two triathlons in 2008.  At what point am I considered a grizzled veteran?  The Desert Tri, which brings together both the San Diego and Los Angeles triathlon clubs for a weekend of socializing and friendly competition, marks my eighth triathlon overall. Four sprints and three Olympic-distance events.  Maybe when I hit 10 triathlons I'll attain non-noob status, as the video game kiddies like to say.  Sufficient XP gained, Trophy unlocked.

I'm pretty surprised at how mellow I am about the whole race thing.  I remember just a couple years ago feeling so incredibly jacked up for my first triathlon, the Nautica Malibu Triathlon.  I even got a hotel room -- 30 minutes from my own townhome at the time -- to make sure I arrived on time to the event with a few minutes extra sleep.  Hard core, or just plain ignorant? Probably a little bit of both.

Tonight while at work, I casually flipped open my email inbox to see A) where the race was being held, B) how to get there, C) remember the hotel I booked and D) oh yeah, what's the course look like?  It would be nice to know the distance associated with the race, too.  Since it's a sprint, though, I didn't figure it would matter much given all the training.

How times have changed.  I remember last year my IT bands would lock up during the 10k run portion of the Olympic triathlons.  Usually around the fourth mile, my legs would start to give out.  I could barely walk after the events.  Now, it seems like I don't even get warmed up until around the fifth mile.  I'm eager to see how I feel during Sunday's race.

I've already proven to myself that the training is paying off in terms of my physical conditioning and mental outlook, so I really don't have the usual pre-race jitters of any kind.  Instead, those feelings are replaced with total relaxation, almost as if it's just another fun weekend of training and socializing.  I'm not sure what to do with that.  I'm used to everything I do taking on a deeper meaning of some kind, a greater significance.  But, honestly, even though the Desert Triathlon marks the start of the 2010 triathlon season, it's a tiny blip in the grand scheme of things.  On one hand, I'm proud of myself for having such a relaxed and detached perspective.  On the other, I miss the giddiness of wondering what to expect out of the race and out of myself.  I miss the excitement of trying something new, of pushing myself to the limits.

Then again, it is early.  It's only Friday night. After a day off from training.  Chilling out on the couch playing games in the dim light of my living room.

If I'm writing the same type of blog on Saturday night, then maybe I've really changed.

I have a feeling I'll be jacked up by then.

263 days and counting.

More Tech, More Problems

So I have this badass new Garmin 310x watch/supercomputer. And like many impressive pieces of technology, it's not working.  I took my pet supercomputer with me on my tempo time-trial bike ride this morning.  Granted, there was some pilot error to start -- I couldn't remember how to switch between a bike, run and swim workout.  But there are so many damned settings to master that who could blame me?  I settled for a regular "non-denominational" workout with speed, calories and a heart-rate chart monitoring my progress.

The ride itself was uneventful, save for the City of Los Angeles street sweeper truck cleaning the bike path and doing so in reverse while taking up both lanes.  That's not good when you're rounding a corner and traveling more than 20 mph.  Carbon brakes 4tw, as the kiddies say.

As has been the case lately, it took me about 20-25 minutes before I could work my heart-rate up into the zone 3 area (146-154 bpm).  Once I got there, I stayed there for just over 35 minutes.  My power is still slightly down but once the legs got loose I found my rhythm.  Pedaling home through the morning rush-hour traffic was the usual harrowing experience.  Now, I'm proceeding south on Sepulveda Boulevard, turning left on Magnolia Street and using Kester Avenue to get back on my home street just south of Ventura Boulevard.  It's a little out of the way, but it beats being pancaked by a stressed out motorist.

Upon arriving home, I excitedly tried to upload the workout to my laptop and Training Peaks account.  No such luck.  The MyGarmin site didn't recognize my account name, which is strange since it worked last night.  I got an internal server error, and that was that.  Then, I was late to work, and frustrated.  Yay technology!

Oh, and I didn't have that problem with my quaint little Polar 200.  It worked, in all its simplicity.

Few things annoy me more than technology that promises big and under-delivers.  Especially when it's as expensive as the Garmin supercomputer.  I'll hope for more success tomorrow.

PS: I'm supposed to lift weights or do yoga tonight.  But I can't.  I'm going to a Clippers basketball game with my work teammates. (Is that considered self-torture, btw?)  Instead of the second workout, I got a massage from our in-house massage therapist, Abby.  After a long absence, she's back.  Abby is a massage muse, a personal godsend for keeping my body in tip-top shape.  I already feel refreshed and ready for the rest of the week.  I think that counts as a second workout given the health benefit.

265 days and counting.

My New Supercomputer

Turns out the Garmin 310x frightened me for good reason. It took Coach Gerardo and me two hours to set up the software and program the settings.  I could have watched a full-length film in that same timespan, done two loads of laundry or burned about 1,000 calories training.

I probably drained that many brain cells trying to figure the damn gadget out.

But, to be fair, this watch is frickin' cool!  The mapping and GPS features alone make me feel like a superfly spy, beaming my coordinates to HQ (in this case Fortius Coaching) at a moment's notice.  I'll also be able to read my heart rate for the first time while swimming.  I've been curious for a long time how hard or how little I'm working in the water.  I have a feeling my heart-rate is pretty elevated.

The Garmin 310x ain't for the beginner, that's for sure.  I'm almost more intimidated to master the watch than to complete the Ironman itself!  I don't even feel comfortable calling it a watch.  It's a supercomputer that dwarfs my wrist, like a turtle resting atop a mouse.  I'll use my new toy for the first time tomorrow, an hour cycling mini-time trial.  If I don't accidentally hit a self-destruct button, I'll report back then.

My training earlier in the day went well, considering Sunday's 20-mile run.  I really didn't feel any ill-effects today, which was pretty surprising.  I swam an easy 2,450 yards, with the help of my Zoomers flippers.  Today was the first time I felt comfortable with the flippers, gliding effortlessly through the pool during my kick intervals while stretching my calves and ankles.  I almost felt guilty for how easy the workout seemed.

Almost.

Then, this afternoon during lunchtime, I ran for 50 minutes in all heart-rate zones on a hilly treadmill course.  Surprisingly, my legs felt fresh after about 10-15 minutes of warm-up.  And that was even at the peak of the run, with the incline set at 7.5% while maintaining a 6.0 mph pace.  That was an accomplishment in itself.

I'm looking forward to another accomplishment tomorrow...

266 days and counting.

From Aluminum to Tin Man

I graduated today. After running 20 miles for the first time and shaving 11 minutes off my previous Firecracker 10k time two years ago, I am giving myself a diploma. (Btw, if you're interested, my race results are here.)

I'm turning the tassel from being an "aluminum-man" to being a "tin man."

What do I mean?

I can now run up to 20 miles, which this morning included a difficult 10k with more than half the distance covered being uphill, at a fairly easy pace.  That means I know I can complete a marathon with 100% certainty.  For a guy who used to have to ice his legs down after a 10k just a couple years ago, this is a huge accomplishment for me.

Second, I'm ready to train tomorrow.  Mentally, I'm there. Physically, I may be a bit shot. I'm sore.  I hit a bit of a wall around mile 18 on my run today, which occurred towards the top of Elysian Park overlooking Dodger Stadium. My legs barked.  My back tightened.  My pace slowed slightly.  I needed to walk up a hill to lower my heart-rate.  But sheer willpower and the desire to finish strong carried me through the final two miles of the 10k and the overall run.  And I was able to sprint the final 200 yards.

Ah yes, the pre-race run.  Just a few weeks ago, I thought Coach Gerardo and his brother Ray were crazy for running 14 miles before completing a 10k.  Then, I became one of the crazies myself.

Funny what this sport does to you.

The pre-dawn run was absolutely serene and beautiful.  My partners in crime, Christina and Paul, joined me at 5:45 a.m. at the Universal Studios metro stop.  From there we snaked through Burbank, Glendale, Griffith Park, Los Feliz, Silverlake, downtown and Chinatown before arriving at the Firecracker 10k with minutes to spare before the starting gun.  Running with a full moon for an hour followed by a sunrise and the beginning of a bustling day was surreal.  The city sparkled to life in front of our eyes, literally.  By the time the race started, the sunshine was dazzling -- without a cloud in a sky.  What a way to begin a Sunday!

Another reason I graduated today: I accomplished something I previously thought was crazy and beyond my reach.  I smashed a mental barrier.

What's the next grade level?  What will I graduate to next?  I think from tin we progress to metal.  The graduation ceremony will occur on July 18, 2010, at the Vineman Half-Ironman.

Mark it down.

I'm on a mission.

268 days and counting.

Weekend Holiday

Why, hello Saturday!  I had almost forgotten what you looked like! Instead of the usual Ironman training regimen, I had an off day in preparation for tomorrow morning's 20-mile run from Universal City to Chinatown for the Firecracker 10k.  Here's a peek at the route.

To celebrate my morning of relaxation, I did what any reasonable person would do: I slept.  And slept.  Then, I slept some more.  Until about 10:45 a.m.  I needed that!

The rest of the day was fairly decadent, especially with the constant schedule I've maintained since this past November.  I enjoyed perhaps one of my all-time favorite breakfasts at Larchmont Bungalow.  People, you must try their Best of Both Worlds pancakes and brioche French toast.  Of course, I added scrambled eggs and chicken-apple sausage to it for balance.

Feeling fat and sassy, I headed to downtown LA to register for the Firecracker 10k, since I hadn't done that yet.  Then, I jetted back to Encino to Phidippides, a popular running store.  I'm replacing my Amphipod runner's belt with a Nathan, since I couldn't ever quite get comfortable with the Amphipod fit.  I also purchased compression socks and shorts to experiment for tomorrow's run.  Full report coming post-race, of course.

The highlight of the day though came tonight, at the Safe at Home charity event featuring Dodgers manager Joe Torre and my boyhood hero (make that every Jewish kid's hero), Hall of Fame pitcher Sandy Koufax.  Despite knowing I'd get home late and have less sleep heading into tomorrow's run, I needed to hear Koufax tell stories about his career since he so rarely grants public interviews.  Several heavy hitters in Los Angeles apparently agreed, as former and current Dodger players, Hollywood directors and actors, helped pack a nearly full house.  One of my favorite sports writers, LA Times columnist TJ Simers, moderated.  Simers was as feisty and crotchety as ever, but Koufax never bit, displaying his signature wit and class throughout the discussion.

Hearing Koufax' tales of tenacity during a career filled with injury, scrutiny and mystery certainly inspired me.  I will remember the pain he must have endured pitching nearly 600 innings over the last two seasons of his career as I labor before sunrise tomorrow during my run.  I will recall that in order to become a champion, you can never lose sight of your goals, but the core of your personality is even more important.  I will internalize that you can win while keeping your head down and building others up, that nobody has to suffer at the hands of your own triumph.

Yeah, I'd say it was a pretty darned good Saturday.

And now, I fade off to sleep and dream of breaking another milestone tomorrow: my first 20-mile run.

I can't wait!

269 days and counting.

Half-Day Friday

I took a half-day off from work so I could fit in a long bike ride. I'm sure this doesn't surprise any of you at this point.

Hi, my name is Ryan.  And I'm a triathlaholic.

"Hi, Ryan."

After scheduling the vacation time, the ride itself turned out not to be very long, around 1:50.  But the experience was so different and so refreshing compared to more typical morning rides that I'm quite satisfied I cashed in some holiday time to do it.  Even if it was a solo endeavor.

Despite a fairly persistent head-wind, ride conditions were just about perfect.  Not many cars, temperature around 72, decent cloud cover, and plenty of scenery to enjoy.  Deer were foraging in the brush.  Cows and horses were grazing leisurely, and farmers were meticulously paying attention to their bounties.

The image below was probably my favorite of the day.  It seemed straight out of "Babe," with a dog sternly admonishing a group of cows for doing whatever it is that cows do when they're causing trouble.  I actually stopped the bike to wait for a small piglet to chant, "Bah Ram Ewe!  Your sheep, your fleece, your clan be true!"

No such luck.

The relaxing ride conditions allowed me to enjoy the scenery more. I noticed homes that I've never seen at a certain angle.  Hills with lush green grass that I've overlooked in the past. The valley floor atop Portrero Road, looking like what I'd expect the Texas hill country to be more than suburban Los Angeles.

Everyone should take the opportunity to look up every once in a while on their cycling journey to appreciate everything around them.  Hopefully it won't take you a mid-afternoon weekday jaunt to do it.  Wished I had noticed these things sooner, because it only adds to he beauty of the experience.

Since Coach Gerardo's instructions were to ride however I felt, I took it fairly easy today.  Though my heart-rate climbed to about 156 bpm at the peak of Portrero Road returning from Newbury Park, I typically was riding in the 120-140 bpm range.  I noticed that the first part of my ride was definitely at a slower pace.  The fatigue factor from earlier in the week seemed to come back and bite me in the butt.  Once I descended Portrero Road down towards Lynn Road, I got my legs under me.  That was about 45 minutes into my ride.  I wonder if it takes me longer to warm up now, which would account for my sluggish bike ride on Wednesday when the entire ride lasted the same amount of time.

Now that I'm back at home to enjoy the rest of my afternoon, I can look ahead to a day off of training tomorrow and ultimately the monster that lurks in the distance, at 20-mile run that will culminate with the Firecracker 10k in downtown Los Angeles. I remember when a 10k was a significant fitness achievement in my life.  I literally cried when I completed my first 10k in 2008.  Now, it's a training run.  Damn.

Happy Friday, everyone!  Mine's started off just right.

270 days and counting.

Sluggish

Some words sound just like what they are.  I know there's a grammar term for that, but I don't feel like looking it up.  Ironic statement to follow. Sluggish is one of those words.  If I were an alien from another planet trying to decipher what sluggish meant, I'd think it means to slug through something.  To struggle.  Over-exaggerate.  Over-work.  Or, pop a slug in me, because I'm just about finished.

Any of those terms or phrases would describe my brick workout today.  Whether it was the earlier start (7 a.m.) the semi-cold, dewy morning or just plain fatigue, my legs felt stiff and heavy on the bike.  My brief six-mile time trial portion of the 45-minute spin was close to pathetic, with an average of around 17.5 mph that spanned nearly 21 minutes of pedaling.  Granted, there was more traffic (and therefore slowdowns) than usual.  But c'mon!  Really? Gah.

I quickly transitioned to a 30-minute run, which felt closer to 30 years. Maybe today would have been a good day for music to fire me up a bit.  Honestly though, I don't know if it would have made a difference.  On the positive side, I ran my old jogging route that was my stand-by for all of last year and completed the loop with a much lower heart-rate while maintaining a similar if not greater speed.  So I had that going for me, which was nice.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was fighting with myself. Almost dragging myself around town, whether it was on the bike or my own two feet.  I can't help but wonder if this is the dreaded "over-training" wall people keep telling me about.  Or, maybe it's just a cold, considering I've been fighting an illness for about a week now without really telling anyone.

Don't worry, mom, it's nothing. I'm warm, well-fed, and yes, I'm wearing a sweater.

Anyway, no west for the weary.  Tomorrow I have a swimming time-trial, which I'm mentally looking forward to.  Physically, I hope I can answer the call.  Following the swim, I'll quickly be transitioning to a 45-minute run featuring five, three-minute hard interval runs in zones 4 and 5a.  That's up to 168 bpm, baby.  I hope I can sustain that rate.  Fortunately, my buddy Dustin will be joining me in Calabasas bright and early.

Well, what I really hope is that I sleep in or through my workout.  That I wake up late, saunter to Jinky's for a massive breakfast, and that I don't do anymore training the rest of the week. Nah, make that the rest of the month!

But I won't give in to that kind of sentiment. That's not my m.o.

Besides, I don't do sluggish.

272 days and counting.

Less is More

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

Thanks, Trudy.  Thanks, Bam-Bam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

273 days and counting.

Recovery Day?

I thought Mondays were supposed to be recovery days. Guess that's in the past now.

After a weekend consisting of a 15-mile trail run, 45-minute swim, 53-mile bike ride and a 15-minute transition run, I was back at it again this morning.  Hard.

First, I swam 2,500 yards, highlighted by 15 100s at 2:10 pace.  Slow for many, but after this weekend, it was just fine. Though I did most of the sets between my normal T-pace, 2:05, and 2:10.  Somehow. I'm still trying to figure that part out.

The toughest part of the swim wasn't even physical.  It came in the form of an impromptu lesson from my lane-mate, a very fast swimmer I met named John.  He said I wasn't gliding enough at the end of my stroke, meaning I wasn't leaving my arm extended for long enough.  In addition, though John said I had a strong upper body and my legs were good (really?, Coach Gerardo thinks my kicking sucks), he mentioned my arms were entering the water much sooner than they should be.  And that I was bending my elbows too much. This runs counter to what Gerardo was trying to get me to do, entering the water with my pinkie fingers touching the plane first in order to more effectively engage my hip rotation.

Swimming is such a technical sport, and I honestly have no idea what I'm doing sometimes in the water.  Just when I think I'm improving, I find that I have more bad habits.  I'm a little frustrated, to be honest. Am I getting better, or getting worse?

Fortunately, the second half of my workout, a 45-minute "recovery" run completed this evening on the treadmill, went smoother.  That was actually part of the problem though.  With my elevated heart-rate zone settings, it's more difficult to reach a speed that gives me the workout I need.  For example, when I was really out of shape (2007), I could run at 5 mph and my heart-rate would probably have been around 150 bpm.  Now, I can run at 6.4 on the treadmill and my HR is firm at 140.  So, a recovery run doesn't feel like much of a relaxing recovery at all when I'm dripping with sweat and the treadmill is making that high-pitched whiny noise that sounds like how I typically feel at the end of a workout:"Whhhhyyyyyyy????"

I suppose it's a good problem to have though -- feeling like you're in such good shape that what used to be a full-fledged workout is now considered a "recovery."

Wow.  That was an eye-opening moment for me tonight.

What's next, a 50-mile "recovery" spin?  A "recovery" two-mile swim?

At this point in my Ironman training, nothing surprises me.

274 days and counting.