The In-Between State

I can officially start planning for Ironman Coeur d'Alene now. Why?

Because now I can actually get there.

Last night I booked my (expensive) airfare into and out of Spokane, Washington.  I'm arriving mid-day Thursday, June 23 and leaving on Monday following the race.  A few weeks ago I booked my hotel, the Ameritell Inn,  after realizing that all the "good" locations were rapidly vanishing.  Same goes for the airfare.  If you're registered for or volunteering at IM CdA and haven't booked your travel, I strongly recommend making those arrangements now.  I was planning to confirm flight arrangements a week ago and since then, airfare has gone up around $80 for roundtrip between Los Angeles and Spokane.

Day 3 of IM CdA training featured my first swim in a few weeks.  And you could barely call it a swim since I was only in the water for around 30 minutes.  Though I enjoyed those 30 minutes even more than I expected.  It felt great to get back in the water, although I swam so slow that I'm sure the senior citizens in the lanes at the pool's far end could have throttled me in a race. But, my training instructions indicate to swim for as long as I want while staying within heart-rate zone 1.

Based on all the holiday junk food I'm eating, I should be training harder.  I'm not sure about you, but training during the holidays is almost a lose-lose situation.  No matter how much (or in this case how little) training I do, I'm going to be packing on the pounds from all the cookies, cakes and muffins floating around the office or at the various parties that come up throughout the next several days.  Then again, I could use the extra weight.  I'm beginning to feel "normal looking" after shedding what seemed like an unhealthy amount of weight over the last six months.  I haven't really liked how I've looked in photos, especially in my face where I truly seemed emaciated.  So if I indulge (err gorge) myself with a few extra cookies, now you know why.

I think I'll be taking training a lot more seriously starting next week, and hopefully I can control my appetite a little more then.

For now, I'm in that weird in-between state of enjoying the holidays and trying to live a healthy lifestyle.

The holidays are winning so far.

196 days and counting.

Achey, Breakey Legs

It is the end of a long day. Eight hours of focus groups just wrapped. Now I'm home, I'm trying to blog and Steph, G-d bless her, is in the other room singing her heart out while watching Glee. I'm a little distracted.

That's sort of how I feel about my return to training.  I'm eager to begin working towards Ironman Coeur d'Alene, but I can't help but wonder what's going on with my legs.  Both IT bands feel like taut elastic, like the fat resistance bands at the gym. I spun for 30 minutes on my trainer this morning to loosen them up and even stretched extensively for another 20 minutes.  Yet tonight, after sitting for a full day, my legs feel as if I ran a half-marathon.

I'm worried.

I feel fortunate that I got through most of my Ironman Arizona training injury and illness-free.  Maybe I'm paying the price now.  Or maybe I'm being a tad melodramatic, which is far more likely as Stephanie would tell you.

I'm going to look into Active Release Therapy, which blog reader and friend Robyn recommended based on her own experiences.  Ironically, I received a note just this morning from the LA Tri Club email list with an offer for discounted ART therapy.  It's a sign.  If my insurance policy covers ART then I'm going to take full advantage of it.  I underwent some ART at the Ironman Expo the day before the race so I know what to expect. I'll try just about anything at this point as I don't want to miss out on any training yet yoga, ice bags and foam rolling aren't making my legs feel better.

I'll be honest, my mind is starting to run away from me thinking about what could happen if my legs decide that distance running just isn't my thing.  I feel like I'm just getting started!  I've found something I really love and don't want to think my body isn't cut out to handle the rigors of Ironman training.  Rationally, I know I just need to be patient and I'll be fine.  But when injury is an issue with an Ironman on the horizon, rationality seems to fly out the window.

I'm tired.  I'm a little frazzled.  And definitely a little distracted.  That combination is probably causing me to stress out a little more than usual.  So I'm going to take a deep breath and log off for now.  Tomorrow, I'm planning to swim for the first time post-IMAZ.  My training for the week calls for a mere 30-45 minutes of light activity per day in heart-rate zone 1, so maybe a gentle morning swim will be just the tonic I need to calm down and let my muscles restore themselves.

I certainly hope so.

197 days and counting.

PS: Here's my blog post from a year ago.  It's funny that one year ago today, I was jumping back in the pool for the first time in two weeks.  History is about to repeat itself tomorrow.  Here's to hoping I can drop the stroke count from 43-46 strokes a minute to something closer to 42-44 strokes.

IMAZ Training By the Numbers

Today marked my last "official" day of California-based Ironman Arizona training.  It also marked my packing day.  Check out this image...that's a LOT of stuff!

Before I go forward into the desert, I think it's fair to take a look back at all the stats from the past several months.

Wanna know what it takes to train for an Ironman?  Here's a very rough approximation.

(Quick notes: My training range is roughly Thanksgiving 2009 to November 17, 2010.  Approximately 350 days.  I began using my Garmin watch in early April, so the most accurate data actually spans seven months. And I may have deleted data inadvertently from April-June while trying to clean out my watch database. I logged workouts on Training Peaks beginning in early December 2009.)

Garmin miles logged (since April): 2,855.27

Distance from San Francisco, Calif. to Lubec, Maine: 3,452

Average combined speed (swim, bike, run): 11.9 mph

Garmin elevation logged: 124,794 feet

Mt. Everest in feet: 29,035 feet

Distance in feet from ocean level to leaving the Earth's atmosphere: 327, 360 feet

Calories burned: 90,646

Based on a 2,000 calories/day diet, equivalent days of calories burned: 45.3 days

Training Peaks Hours Logged: 608/660 (still have 14 hours of training to complete this week, including race)

Percentage completed: 92% (not including upcoming hours this week)

If I trained non-stop, the equivalent in days would be: 25.3 days

Bike: 164.3 hours (27%)

Run: 152.7 hours (25%)

Swim: 109.2 hours (18%)

Classified as "brick" hours: 79.1 hours (13%)

Race hours: 34.0 hours (6%)

"Custom" (usually yoga/strength): 42 hours (7%)

No matter how I slice it, that's a LOT of time spent training for one event.

Time to go see how that training pays off.

My next post will be in Arizona.

Four days and counting.

Nothin' More to Say

Stephanie asked me on the way home from synagogue tonight what I was planning to blog about. After thinking about it for a moment, I realized the answer was simple:

"There's nothing more to say, really."

I think that's where I'm at with all this.  What else can I possibly say to describe going on this journey?  What new insight am I going to have at this point?  What else is there to learn that I haven't already uncovered?

Then again, maybe it's the reinforcement of the key lessons that matters most.  Take this morning, for example.  Once again, I jumped into the pool early.  Against my wishes.  It was so cold, my feet were numb on the pool deck.  I slogged through 3,150 yards going the long way (50 meters, not 25 yards).  My timed 500s were slower than usual.  I didn't want to be in the water.  At all. Especially for that distance.  I wanted to be in bed, enjoying some extra sleep.  I basically want to do as little as possible right now.

But I didn't quit. I gutted out the workout, despite not wanting any part of the experience.  Despite not having a very good swim.  I got through it.

That happens to all of us every day.  We just have to get through it. If you quit once, you can quit twice.  And then what?  Quitting can become the same habit as displaying grit and tenacity.

So, while I may not have more to say, I do have more to learn. More to remember.  More to internalize. More to project to the world.

I may not have more to say.  But there's still much to do.

9 days and counting.

Wow. SINGLE DIGITS!

Energized But Cautious

I enjoyed my fourth or fifth massage in as many weeks tonight, courtesy of Fortius teammate David via LA Body Mechanics. The effects are starting to pay off.  I feel more limber.  Less acidic.  My body aches less.

Combined with the reduced training over the past few days, I think I can start to feel my body replenishing its stores.  Which is what I'm supposed to feel at this point, by golly!

Now I'm just trying to stay focused on remaining healthy the next several days.  If I could live inside a bubble I would.  My boss is sick.  One of our creative directors is sick.

I got a message for y'all...stay AWAY from me!

And I mean that in the nicest of ways :)

To combat any potential problems, I'm taking an Emergen-C packet each day, along with my Echinacea  pills.  And my allergy medicine.  And let's not forget the beta alanine and asthma inhaler.

Yep, I'm going a little overboard.  But I don't want to leave any room to chance.  I can handle an injury at this point if that's what's meant to happen.  But an illness, or something as silly as a cold?  Man, that would just suck.  But, if it can happen to Chrissie Wellington, it can happen to anyone.

So, for now, I'll take each day as a gift of health and energy.  And hope I wake up the same way the next day.

That's all I can do at this point, right?

10 days and counting.

Colossus

When I was a kid, I was afraid of roller coasters.  The dizzying heights.  The sudden drops.  Going upside down! In thinking about it further now, perhaps I was afraid because I couldn't control the experience.  I was locked in, hurtled about every which direction, and blasted back to the platform dazed, startled and nauseous.

The coaster I recall being the most afraid of was Colossus, at Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia.  It towered over the freeway at the time, intimidating all who dared approach the massive structure.  There were also reports, as I recall, that coaster carts had fallen off in the past, killing people.  That didn't help my paranoid nature.

But the thing I remember most about Colossus was the first time I rode on it.  Sitting in the cart, scared and trying not to act like it.  Until the restraining bar was closed tightly on my waist.  Then, I started to panic.  There was no turning back!  I had to ride out this coaster no matter what happened. If I plunged off the tracks to my death there was nothing that could be done about it!  I was at the mercy of Colossus.

That's sort of how I feel today about Ironman Arizona.  I saw my bib number in the Athlete's Guide online at the IMAZ website.  For whatever reason, seeing that number, alongside the other 2,300 athletes, made me realize that I was committed to a 140.6-mile journey in 11 days no matter what.

It's amazing how "unreal" this event can feel because it's been so far off in the distance for so long. But now, like the roller coaster approaching off the freeway, it's here.  Staring me in the face.  Challenging me to step up and overcome my nerves.  To face the unknown.

The bib is my bar.

And ya know what?  I rode Colossus.  And eventually loved it. The rickety wooden coaster actually became my favorite at the park.  I just had to feel the ride -- the experience of it -- to know what to expect.

The IMAZ Colossus will be no different.  It's just that I don't know what I don't know about completing an Ironman.  But I will soon.

We're now about to hit the 10 day mark.  The cart is inching up the steep embankment towards the massive first drop.

Clink Clink Clink Clank Clank Clank ...

11 days and counting.

But Would I Do It Again?

People have been asking me a lot of questions lately about Ironman Arizona.  That's understandable. "How are you feeling?"

"Are you ready?"

"Are you nervous?"

I've had pat answers for all these: Fine, but getting more excited with each day.  Yes, I'm ready.  More than ready.  And yeah, I'm a little nervous too, though feeling much better now that I can change flat tires with relative confidence.

The one topic that has thrown me for a loop has come courtesy of separate conversations with two Fortius teammates: "Do you recommend training a full year for an Ironman?"

Honestly, that is such a tough question to answer right now.  As I mentioned to Joe tonight at one of my last Fortius-coached swims of the year, now is not the best time to ask me that.

I'll admit that I'm tired mentally after a long year of training.  I have to find new ways to motivate myself every day to train, even in these final stages.  Though tonight was a good night for confidence and morale building as I confirmed via a 2,000 yard time trial that I can indeed hit my desired swim goal in Arizona.  After watching the results from IM Florida and Silverman, knowing my Fortius teammates racing there are much faster than me, I wasn't so sure Coach Gerardo's goal time was reasonable.  I know it is now.  That's huge, just as my bike ride with Bob on Sunday restored my confidence on the bike.

But confidence-building like that doesn't come from just a few weeks or months cramming.  At least not in my case.  It's been a long, LONG road to get here, almost a never-ending road.  I've trained almost 600 hours since late last November.  I'm at the end of my line mentally and emotionally in terms of holding on to the passion for completing this massive challenge.  I need race day to come SOON.

Fortunately, it's rushing towards me like a 100-mph fastball.

That said, putting in all this time has allowed me to achieve milestones I never thought possible. I've made significant progress in each tri-discipline, progress I wouldn't have made had I not pushed myself as hard as I did.  Or taken a chance on Fortius.  From a purely physical standpoint, I don't regret the training regimen one bit.  I'm in the best shape of my life by leaps and bounds.  My 36-year-old self could kick my 16-year-old self's ass, and I was in solid shape as a kid!

As far as advice I'd give to anyone considering the same Ironman training schedule, I'd suggest asking and answering the following questions first:

-- What's your available free time?

-- Are you single?  What's your relationship like if you're in one?  How supportive is your partner?

-- What's your work situation like?  Hours?  Stress level?

-- What kind of prior training/athletic/triathlon background do you have?

-- Any significant milestones during the year besides your Ironman?  How will it affect your training?

How you answer these questions and others will determine how you can train for your Ironman.

So, would I do it all again?

Can I tell you in a couple months?

12 days and counting.

2 Weeks!

Two weeks from tonight, I'll be collapsed in my hotel room, hopefully elated with the performance I worked for and (I believe) earned. Yet it still doesn't feel totally real. For instance, despite a year of training, I felt a pang of anxiety when I realized tonight that the next Ironman on the official schedule is...mine.  There's nothing else to look forward to.  No other friends to cheer on.  No other teammates to send off.

It's just me and a date that approaches more quickly every day.

If today's workout is any indication, I'm definitely close to being ready.  Bob, my fellow Fortius and IMAZ teammate, joined me this morning for a full tri-workout.  We swam at Zuma in clear, crisp 62-degree water for 45 minutes.  I experimented with compression shorts in the water instead of a swimsuit, as well as compression calf sleeves. I liked it overall.  The calf sleeves rolled up on my leg a bit but I think that was after I took off the wetsuit, not while wearing it.  I think I'll go with that strategy at Ironman.  Any edge I think I can get.  Following a fairly leisurely transition (what a gorgeous day out!), I did my very best to hold onto Bob's wheel as we hammered out to Big Rock and back.  I succeeded for the first half of the ride as we belted out several 21-plus mph miles, but the second half of the ride, Bob stopped toying with me and simply took off.  He very well may break five hours for his bike split at IMAZ if he wanted to.  Finally, we embarked on a 90-minute run while trying to stay in heart-rate zones 2-3.  We were successful, completing just around 9.6 miles in that span on a flat course.  I needed that run following last Sunday's blow-up in Calabasas.  I know I can hold my heart-rate steady for several miles but I'll need the weather and wind to cooperate, as well as my own ability to stick to my race plan.  Today, the wind was moderate and the temperature was around 70 when Bob and I started running at noon.

Now, it's getting late (for an old guy like me).  I'm typing, reflecting about the past week.  With the exception of a couple monster swims, this past week truly felt like what I expected a taper should be.  Relaxed.  Moderate.  Fun.

With the occasional balls-out bike sprint thrown in for good measure.

14 days and counting.

Ode to Joy

Finally, I enjoyed a workout that truly felt like a taper!  Thirty-eight miles of mild climbing (just shy of 3,000 feet) at a low heart-rate, complete with actual conversations with other human beings!  What a concept!  Fun! I started off the morning riding on my own in Agoura, but about a third of the way in, near Lake Sherwood, I ran into some Fortius teammates.  I immediately turned around to spend time with Joe and Kelly.  They're both in their off-season now, so we ambled along, chatting amongst ourselves and even some other cyclists.

Kelly and Joe turned back into the Starbucks parking lot but I needed another hour of pedal time.  That was fine by me, as I felt refreshed and eager.  I realized in typing this post that today's ride was the first time in months where cycling felt like a hobby -- something I love doing -- rather than a mind-numbing effort towards a particular goal.  I'm saddened by that epiphany somewhat but happy that at least I can sense it. Maybe that's what tapering is all about.  Rediscovering the joy for the sport, plain and simple.

My spirits lifted, I found myself galloping along for a brief 30 minute follow-up run at a faster pace.  This was further encouraging to me.  Maybe now I can start to gain energy over the next couple weeks. Looking at the training schedule more closely, tomorrow's brick is more or less the last "long" workout until the race.  I can dig that.

There was another force at play today.  Something I didn't expect.  One of the reasons I was able to ride with more joy was actually because of the relief and satisfaction of knowing I'm more adept at fixing flat tires.  I know it seems silly, but just knowing I'm not screwed if something "bad" happens to the bike during the race released a flood of pent-up anxiety should it actually happen.  Certainly, I hope I can stay on the bike and not have to dismount to fix a flat.  But if I have to, I'll be ready.  This means I'm instantly more comfortable and confident riding long distances on my own.  I can be my own mechanic now.  Seriously, what a relief.

For the past several weekends, I haven't really looked forward to any workout in particular.  I've just tried to get through them. Past them.  Over them.  Around them.  Tomorrow, I can honestly say I'm excited to get back on the road.  My bike got a thorough cleaning today at Helen's, thanks to Pete, and poppa's got a new pair of cycling shoes (Shimanos).  In addition, I'm now rockin' a Speedfill bottle that holds up to 40 ounces of liquid and lets me drink from a giant straw while maintaining my aero position.

Hanukkah arrived early!

Excitement.  Joy.  It's nice to reclaim these essential feelings.  It seems like they've been gone from my training for quite some time.

15 days and counting.

Grouchy!

I was a big grump today.  And tonight. Why?

My swim sucked this morning.  I was lethargic in the water, almost a full 15 seconds slower in the same exact distance intervals I did on Tuesday.  The slower I got, the more frustrated I became.  The more frustrated I became, the worse my form became.  It was a downward spiral from there.  I just flat out didn't want to be in the water.  I was angry because swimming the equivalent of 80 football fields this week didn't exactly feel like a taper.  Then, fighting traffic to get to Griffith Park with enough time to cram in my hour bike made matters worse.  I honked my horn. Cursed slow drivers.  I was not pleasant.

Of course, my bike ride felt sluggish as well.  And, as you can imagine, I grew even more frustrated.  At least I fueled that negative energy into pedal power, hitting 25 mph a few times on the flats out of pure spite.

I think I greatly over-estimated what tapering for an Ironman would be like.

However, at the end of a long day and evening that continued to be stressful, I can hear my inner Coach Gerardo asking me one very important question: "How did you feel after the bike and swim this morning?"

Hmm.

Pretty good, actually.  Like I definitely could have kept going without any problem.  And the only way I would have experienced that feeling is by not quitting on myself today, which I avoided doing despite every ounce of me wanting to crawl out of the pool and go back to sleep.

Anyways, my point is this.  Even when a workout or two seems to fall apart. Even when training schedules throw you a curveball, you must keep going.  No matter how hard it is.  Now matter how much you want to quit.  Something good will come of it. Somehow. You won't know how, or when you'll even realize it. But it will come.

So even though today pretty much sucked all the way around, it was still a good day. I got through it.  I swam 8,000 yards in three hours over two days.  Not a lot of folks can say they did that.

Now leave me alone so I can go get some sleep.

17 days and counting.