iTrain

First things first. Yes, I fixed a flat last night. Mostly.

I struggled and klutzed around for around 24 minutes.  My technique was poor and clumsy, but ultimately I did take out one tube and insert another while putting on the tire without using tire irons.  I am proud of myself for that.  Unfortunately, I couldn't inflate the tire though.  My air pump is in the car that currently sits at my dad's auto repair shop.  I used a CO2 cartridge but that didn't take b/c I think the valve stem isn't protruding through the wheel enough.  I may have to insert another tube with a deeper stem.  Either way, I'm eager to see on Sunday morning if I correctly fixed the flat.  Even if I'm slow, I know I can continue to improve over the next several weeks with practice.

I know I can't get much worse!  Or can I?

Now, onto this morning's workout.  Sort of.

Yeah, sure, I ran almost 15 miles this morning on the smelly, hilly trails of Griffith Park.  But really, who cares about that.

My iPhone 4 is here, ready and operational!

I've spent the greater part of the summer and now fall with a pay-as-you-go T-mobile phone.  Is there such a thing as a functional piece of junk?  I've now officially joined the 21st century!  I can be like the cool kids once and for all!  I look forward to walking around as nothing but a silhouette with neon colors all around me as I bop and rock to my favorite hipster tunes.  Star Wars lightsaber app, here I come!  Fart noise app?  Yep, sign me up!  Training Peaks and any other number of triathlon-related apps, OMG I can't wait!

I haven't been this excited about racing as I have been about getting my iPhone.  I'm practically jumping for joy.  Except my legs wont' allow it after all that climbing this morning.

Back to this morning for a moment.  Running with my buddy Joe truly turned what could have been another mental slog into a joyful, fun experience.  We chatted for the first 1.5 hours of my 2.25-hour run.  We covered off on nutrition, race strategy, training schedules, lessons learned and all the other things that can occupy a triathletes mind.  Joe is going through some of the same things I did earlier in the year, so I hope I can be a good resource for him as he continues to grow as a triathlete.  After puttering along with me, Joe then took off for an hour of tempo work .  I still had another 45 minutes of solo hills work.  I didn't mind at all though, as just having someone to keep me company for a little while completely transformed my mental outlook.  Plus, I changed my normal route to include some trails I hadn't run since this past spring.  Felt good to shake things up a bit.  And that's coming from a creature of habit.

This Sunday, I'll have even more great company on my bike ride.  Frank will be joining me, as usual.  He's been a huge help this entire year whether he knows it or not.  Not sure where I'd be without him.  But Caleb is also going to join me.  Just to lend his support as well.  Caleb's Ironman is done this year, so he's literally coming out to help push me along.  He's been consistently reading the blog and commenting for the better part of the last six months.  If there's been any one new friend I've made through this sport that's helped me the most with perspective and inspiration, it's been Caleb.  Yes, athletes such as Coach Gerardo have helped me immeasurably to become a better triathlete.  And my Fortius friends have pushed me to be my best while enjoying the journey.  But Caleb, as a pro triathlete and all-around great guy, has helped me comprehend and accept that what I'm going through is totally normal -- even the best of the pros go through the cycle of fatigue, burnout, exhaustion, etc.  Without that knowledge and support -- knowing that I'm not some wussy whiner who can't hack it all the time -- maybe I would have succumbed to the fatigue instead of powering through it.  That's simply priceless.

I thought getting to my first Ironman would mostly be a solo journey. It would be me against the elements and my own body.

How wrong I was.

Without the support of others -- coaches, athletes, friends and family -- I wouldn't come close to Ironman Arizona.

And now, one very special little phone device with a million little apps that are waiting to be downloaded.

56 days and counting.

A Real Weekend

I'm headed into the busiest, most taxing part of my Ironman training.  Yet what I'll remember most from this weekend is the time I got to spend with Stephanie and my family. At first I was bummed that Yom Kippur fell on a Saturday.  I need that time to complete my long bike or run.  Trying to do so during the week wipes me out and for a 5-6 hour bike ride, it's logistically impossible.  But being able to enjoy a Saturday by not running around all over the place and then trying to cram in some relaxation -- even if it meant not eating much of anything -- was a true joy.  Yes, I attended services, as I mentioned yesterday.  But I also stopped long enough in my life to plop on the couch and watch some college football. I hung out with my family without looking at my watch.

Sometimes, doing less can be more for your mind and body in triathlon training.

The trend continued today, as I logged five hours in the pool (3,000 yard swim) and on the bike (4 hours, 4,300 feet, Tour de Conejo via Calabasas and Simi Valley).  You'd think that wouldn't qualify as lounging, but the eight hours from when I returned home and spent the day with Steph certainly did.  Though I was on a tight timeline with my training today since we had a 3 p.m. appointment with our wedding ceremony rabbi, it actually ended working in my favor.  I got to really feel like I had a leisurely Sunday without the guilt of either missing all my training or not spending quality time with my lady.  While I had to cut my workouts short -- by 500 yards in the water and around 1.5 hours on the bike -- it still meant more time after our appointment just to hang out with no particular plan. Like a long date.  We filled our afternoon running an errand (I needed new swim shorts and goggles), eating an early dinner at Fritto Misto in Santa Monica, and watching Peyton destroy Eli at home on the couch.

It was so nice to have a weekend back in the heat of my Ironman training.  I'm bummed I didn't complete my original 17.5 hours of scheduled training.  But, I still checked off most of my workouts, trained hard, and at the end, I feel quite refreshed.  Mentally, I'm ready for next week's dose of Ironman fun, which will call for another 17.5 hours.  Physically, I worked hard but have much more left in the tank.

Which is more important: Completing all your training and feeling mentally and physically drained, or completing most of it, finding balance at home and looking forward to the next week?

Is there any doubt what the correct answer is?

61 days and counting.

Enter the Grind

Somewhere this afternoon while at work, I wondered why my legs were so damned sore. Then, it occurred to me.  Yesterday I rode about 30 miles (roughly 20 of them being at a time-trial pace) and ran nearly 12 on trails before that.  Throw in a swim and that's about what I completed at the Santa Barbara Triathlon last month.

Oh yeah, and then there was this morning's 3,000-yard swim at 6, which featured the following awesomness:

-- 400 yards in 7:15 with 4 x 25 all-out as a reward (completed successfully at 1:42/100 pace)

-- 300 yards in 5:15 with 4 x 25 all-out as a reward (completed successfully at 1:45/100 pace)

-- 200 yards in 3:15 with 4 x 25 all-out as a reward (unsuccessfully completed at 1:40/100 pace)

-- 100 yards for time (1:30)

These times mesh with my Nautica Malibu Triathlon swim pace of 1:44/100 (28:40 on 1,500 meters).

The pace also meshes with an impromptu "pep talk" Coach Gerardo gave me unexpectedly this morning.  As I climbed out of the pool after expressing uncertainty over how I should feel about a 1:30 time-trial after a hard workout, Gerardo said, "You're not going to get any faster from here until Ironman."  He added that it's now time to sustain a solid T-pace for longer, as that's where we're at in Ironman training.

Gerardo also told me I needed to change my perspective about training for the next few months.  The distances are about to be doubled, Gerardo said, and that the victories won't come from gains in speed but rather simply doing the distance and time allotted.

In other words, the next couple months are going to be a grind.  Embrace it.

I'm ready for it.  No complaints.  No excuses.

7:15 a.m. run tomorrow.  Lookin' forward to it.

64 days and counting.

A Big Workout Sandwich

Training 3.5 hours on a weekend day is one thing. Doing it in the middle of the week is another.  I awoke at 6:30 to cram in my long run for the week as Yom Kippur will take up my Saturday.  So instead of going fast, I'll be fasting.  Or trying to. Probably unsuccessfully given my mega-appetite lately.

I ran for two hours at Griffith Park starting at 7:26 a.m., the first hour being flat and the second covering the hilly horse trails.  Ahh, the smell.  Oh how I'll miss that in the offseason.

I was pleased with my run performance overall.  Maintained a very steady pace on the hill portion (9-9:30) while my heart rate typically fell in the low-mid zone 3 range (low 150s).  I got into the low 160s on the big hills but quickly recovered.

Racing to work was probably the most hectic part of my workout.  I got in my car at 9:27 a.m., made it across town to the Burbank studio, showered, changed, ordered breakfast and made my 10 a.m. meeting with my boss.  I'm actually more proud of that transition time than most of my races!

After a work day that can only be described as "eventful", I bolted back to Griffith Park for the evening LA Tri Club brick workout.  Minus the run portion, of course.  I had a 1:30:00 bike ride planned, with half of it a straight shot in zone 3 bpm (146-151).  For some reason, I could never quite reach the lower end of zone 3.  It didn't seem to be fatigue related, as I hovered consistently in the high 130s, low 140s during the speed portion of the workout.  And my mph totals were in line with expectations (20-25 mph depending on wind direction).

Finally at 7:08 p.m., as the sun set, my long day of workouts drew to a close.  What a workout sandwich!  Two hours in the morning before work, a full day at work, and 1.5 hours after work.

I am cooked!  Now I'm just waiting for Steph to get home so we can enjoy some quality time together.  I'm tired of working out, or talking about working out, or thinking about working out.

And yet, in less than 12 hours, I'm back at it again.  In the pool, for a 6 a.m. swim since I have a work dinner tomorrow night.

Sometimes, the Ironman training workouts seem more intense than my actual work day.  And today's work day was anything but leisure-filled.

65 days and counting.

Weekend Wrap

Labor Day came and went without a single workout.

A true holiday weekend!  However, I more than made up for it yesterday.

Coach Gerardo, Ray, Richard, David,Christina and I awoke literally at dawn's first light to beat the heat for our scheduled 2:15 trail run.  But not just any trail run. Bulldog Trail, Malibu Creek State Park.  Gerardo, Richard and I "only" did the first 1.5 miles of the actual trail, but it was enough for nearly 1,000 feet of climbing, including a few grades as steep as 13%.  Ray, David and Christina chose a less steep path, perhaps slightly because of the late evening we enjoyed wishing Ray a temporary farewell as he moves to San Diego.

I saw some real progress on this trail run.  The last time I ran Malibu Creek State Park, it served as a rude awakening.  Though that was less than two months ago -- July 4 weekend in fact -- I vividly remember worrying about the heat and my ability to handle it heading into Vineman 70.3  Fast forward to the next holiday weekend and I completed nearly double the distance while stopping to walk about half as much.  Even better was my pace -- in two months I knocked off nearly a full minute off my mile pace on the final two miles of the run.  I think that's the result of the Fortius track workouts, which improved my ability sustain a faster pace for longer, and knowing my body better and how far I can push it without risk.  I used to train a little more cautiously in terms of letting my heart-rate determine my output.  On Sunday, Gerardo told us not to bring our watches and to just run.  It was more important to get through the run than to do it "right", apparently.

The trick worked. I ran harder as a result, and Richard out-paced me by a good few minutes -- giving me someone to chase.  That's the perfect combination for me.  Just turn me loose and let me go all out!

After the run, we all celebrated the long weekend as a team at Zuma Beach.  I felt like I was a teenager again. We immediately unpacked our gear and basically played sports non-stop for hours.  Beach soccer.  Beach volleyball. Swimming.

Except I'm no longer a teenager, as I learned today.  My body is trained for endurance, not necessarily fast-twitch sports right now.  My quads are like lead from all the jumping and squatting.  My Achilles tendons hurt from running in the sand.  My right foot throbs from all the soccer passes -- and Janna's shin!

Thank goodness I train as hard as I do, for I can't imagine what today would have felt like had I exerted the same youthful effort without the strength or stamina to back it up.

Thank goodness I had a day off to get back to normal.  The 10 hours of sleep and pancake breakfast at Jinky's definitely helped.

Tomorrow, "back to normal" means a 1:45 hour bike ride featuring 10 three-minute time trials along with an evening 2,800-yard swim.

Thank goodness, I'm ready and eager...and grateful that I'm healthy and have the time to keep pursuing this mega-goal.

74 days and counting.

Ray to the Rescue

I haven't done a lot of cycling where the temperature matches and exceeds my cadence...when I'm pedaling flat or downhill. But that's what happened when LA Tri Clubber Cheryl pointed out that her computer watch indicated 104 degrees around 11:30 a.m. this morning on our approximately 60-mile ride from Agoura to Newbury Park and back.

Picture having a blow-driver blast you with hot air for 3.5 hours.  That's how our ride felt.  Shade was definitely our friend today during every rest stop -- which there were more of than usual.

Fortunately, we had none other than our dog-bark impersonating, recently USAT-certified coach, Ray, saving the day.  He drove a badly needed sag vehicle all over the Conejo Valley, keeping us hydrated with drinks paid for from his own pocket and entertained, as always.  Of course, Ray being the nice guy that he is, wouldn't even accept the contributions cup we offered him in return for going so far out of his way. On top of all that, Ray even found time to shoot some video of us in our various forms of agony or glory, depending on the time of day and the level of fluid in our water bottles. (You'll have to be Ray's buddy on Facebook to see them though!)

I fared well on the ride, especially since I had my road bike to everyone else's tri bikes.  I started to cramp around the last mile of the ride, using my elbows to power my legs up a final climb so I wouldn't over-exert with my hamstrings and quads.  I made it back to basecamp off Agoura Road and Las Virgenes without incident.

Perhaps the best part about today's ride is that I can finally put to bed my bonk-fest with Christina last month riding the Colnago.  Clearly that was a fluke.  We rode longer today, in much hotter conditions, and still managed some decent climbing.

Following the ride and a much-needed refueling session with the Fortius gang, I drew a cold bath at home and soaked with Epsom salt after icing my legs with frozen vegetable bags.  Then, it was nap time for nearly 1.5 hours.

Now that's what I recall a nice recovery.  My legs feel fairly fresh and I have no dehydration-related headache to report.  Which is good, because tomorrow morning Ray will be leading us on a 12-14 mile run through the Bulldog trail at Malibu Creek State Park -- near where the TV show M.A.S.H. was filmed many years ago.

There are days when I'm torn between being thrilled at having the opportunity to train to peak physical condition, and wondering what the hell I'm doing to myself.  Do you ever feel the same way? Seriously, it's Labor Day Weekend.  I should be sleeping in, lounging around at the beach, and sipping cocktails watching the sunset.  Instead, I'm getting up at 6, on the road or trail by 7 and training into the heat of the day.

This Ironman stuff sure feels nuts sometimes.

76 days and counting.

Not Feelin' It

Practically every time I pack my bag the night before for a 6 a.m. morning swim -- goggles, cap, towel, sweats, Zoomers -- I wind up not attending the workout. What's up with that?

The rationale with packing early is to save time so I can sleep longer in the morning.  It's my way of committing to the swim hours before I enter the water.  Sort of a pre-bedtime psych job. Yet, on the days where I can drag myself out of bed for the workout, it's usually because I need to scramble and scrape together my workout gear.  I wonder if being more prepared is somehow actually enabling me to sleep more deeply, thus making it harder to wake up.

Today though, I honestly just didn't feel like going.  I wasn't feeling it, flat-out.  I didn't even feel like training at all, for that matter.  Maybe my post last night about changing pace stuck with me longer than expected.  Maybe it was the barbecue cheeseburger, fries and a salad at 8 p.m. after my run with Stephanie.  Maybe it was the tinge of embarrassment I still have for getting testy with someone in the pool during my most recent swim on Tuesday night.  Or, the fatigue associated with a frantic end to the workday, a frenzied bike ride home, a brick workout and writing another freelance article for Lava Magazine.

It's probably all of the above.

So at 3:19 a.m., I  searched in the dark for my cell phone, clicked off the alarm, and went fetal.  I decided to skip training today altogether and switch it to tomorrow, normally my off-day.  The extra two hours sleep was time well-invested.  I had a big meeting today that required my full energy, and a late evening planned at the Hollywood Bowl.  No afternoon bonk fight to resist.  No stiff legs either.

Of course, that means tomorrow I'm waking up at 6:30 after probably getting home around 11:30 p.m. to swim (alone, gah!) and then run at lunch.  To continue my streak of including a Yogi Berra quote in my posts, "It's like deja vu all over again."

At least my swim bag is already packed.

78 days and counting.

2011 Goals

Over fatty muffins and sugary hot chocolate at Starbucks, Coach Gerardo and I plotted my goals for the 2011 triathlon season. To say they're ambitious would be accurate, and probably an understatement.  Especially since I haven't even completed my first Ironman yet!

In fact, my 2011 goals are so ambitious that Coach Gerardo indicated I shouldn't share them publicly as it may create undo pressure for myself.  I know this could be true since I've recently spoken two sport psychologists about blogging affecting triathlon performance.  So, I didn't argue.  As much as I'd like to share my goals with you, I'm not.  I will say this: I'm going to be training hard -- very hard -- for strong performances at the Cheseboro Half Marathon, Wildflower Long Course and Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  Between those events, you'll find me back at the Surf City Half Marathon and Desert Triathlon in Palm Desert.  I'm more excited about competing in my first cycling road race next year.  Stephanie and I are going to choose that race together, which will be fun.

Despite the excitement about looking ahead to next year, I'm feeling apprehensive about doing so.  It's like the feeling baseball players must have when a teammate is pitching a no-hitter.  I just want to focus on the batter at the plate -- in this instance the next day of training tomorrow -- and not the possibility of something so large and ominous.  Not when I can't even call myself a true Ironman yet.

So, for now, I'll continue training.  And dreaming just a little about next year too.

81 days and counting.

Santa Barbara Tri: A, B or C Race?

In Training Peaks, my triathlon workout schedule manager, race days are indicated by little trophies with an A, B, or C on them. The Santa Barbara Triathlon is listed as a priority C, meaning it's essentially another training day that happens to be timed.

I'd like to believe I'll be able to keep that in mind when the starting gun goes off at 7 a.m.  But I know myself all too well.  Maybe you're beginning to know me too.

That C level priority is what dragged me out of bed this morning for a 6 a.m. swim and what compelled me to attend tonight's final Fortius-coached track workout.  If Saturday's race is "just another training day" then there's no excuse for me to blow off these last workouts due to the fatigue I'm experiencing.  That was my thought process throughout the day.  I wanted nothing more than to go straight home when I left the office around 5:30 p.m.  In fact, I debated doing just that throughout the commute.  There's the triathlon magazine web story I could be writing.  Or the packing I could be doing for Santa Barbara.  Or simply relaxing at home for an extended period, which hardly ever seems to happen now.

But the honest motivator was this: I knew that somewhere out there, someone competing in my age group this Saturday was training.  He was overcoming the heat.  The fatigue.  The excuses.  And If I didn't haul ass on that track -- perhaps against my better judgement -- then he was going to beat me by a few seconds in the race.

C-level race or not, I can't let that happen.

So, I ticked off two 400s, two 800s and another two 400s at a 6:00-7:00 minute mile pace along with a handful of striders and light lap-running.  Perhaps against my better judgement.  Despite my concerns, my heart-rate dropped quickly between laps, I didn't overheat nor did I exhaust myself.  Much like this morning's swim, where I tied my 100 PR at 1:25, I pleasantly surprised myself in the run.

And that's the gift I received for putting in the time today.  I had enough energy to perform at a high level for myself despite the fatigue and self-doubts.  Moreover, A, B, or C, level race, I know that by pushing myself just a bit further than I wanted to this week, I inched forward towards my ultimate A-1 goal: Ironman.

Let's see how I feel tomorrow morning!

86 days and counting.

Forging Ahead

Somewhere in the middle of my 9.5-mile Nike/Westridge trail run this morning -- between the 20-degree temperature climb, running past a mountain biker with a parrot on his shoulder, narrowly escaping multiple bee stings from a small hive clustered at a rest stop drinking fountain, and inadvertently insulting two Ironman women triathletes -- I had a vision. I was tired, hot, sore and running low on water.  I already thought I had hallucinated considering a magnificent red parrot squawked at me on a descent. (I'm pretty sure he said, "Too slow!")  So, having a vision as heat waves undulated from the dusty gravel seemed totally normal.

There, at my weakest point, at the end of what would become a 16.5-hour training week, I physically felt myself becoming stronger.  I felt like a piece of iron being forged into something powerful. Pounded.  Blasted.  Shaped.  Hot.  I pictured one of those movie scenes where the angry hero descends into his weapons lair and creates his signature weapon.

Only in this vision, I was the weapon.

I realize I sound more like Leonard from Full Metal Jacket than William Wallace from Braveheart.  And I don't really care.

After this weekend, I'm harder.  Stronger.  Tougher.  Better.

I'm rounding into Ironman form.  I can feel it.

I had ridden 101 miles on Saturday at an 18 mph pace, with 4,000 feet of total climbing.  It was only my second century ride I've ever done.  I felt superhuman throughout the day.  Nothing could slow me down and I never really tired out.  The highlight was a pace line with three other cyclists on the final five miles where I averaged around 23-24 mph.  The guys complimented me after, thanking me for pulling them and telling me I made their wives happy because they'd return home to their families ahead of schedule.

I've never been complimented on my cycling before, especially by strangers who were no slouches themselves.  I'm always struggling to keep up with other LA Tri Club or Fortius members whom I deem better.  To be acknowledged for my own skill was refreshing.  Special.  That alone probably fueled my three-mile "recovery" run off the bike. I've never done that before either.

And just one year ago, there's absolutely no way I would have been able to run 9.5 miles the day after a century.  In fact, last year I bonked on the last 25 miles and Frank had to essentially tow me into port.

What a difference a year makes.

Sure, this morning's run was slow and stiff.  But I did it.  I survived what turned out to be 93-degree heat and kept my heart-rate in zone 3 at the highest.  That was a huge moral victory for me. I proved to myself I could bounce back the next day after a tough workout.  In the heat -- without overheating.

I didn't technically race this weekend, but mentally, it feels like I did.  Something changed in me.

During my ill-fated Ironman conversation with the two women this morning -- ill-fated because I made a joking comment about people with "140.6" stickers on their car, which they both have! -- one of them remarked that their Ironman training was harder than the race itself.  If that's the case, this weekend helped prove her point.

Yet I have three full months of training as of yesterday.

I want more training!

90 days and counting.