Frustratingly Slow

By trying to run more efficiently lately, I've been putting my body at greater risk. I ran nearly six miles this morning at Griffith Park with my buddy John and Coach Gerardo.  I received some valuable instruction on my forefoot striking experiment, mainly that I've been trying too hard to avoid heel contact on the strike.  This can cause extra strain in the Achilles and knees, as well as the foot itself.  Good thing Gerardo joined me.

I also need to work on kicking my heels up higher, which will activate my hamstring muscles more.  Currently, I'm shuffling too much, which I had no idea I was doing.  Of course, it's hard to run behind yourself and see these things.  One more reason that having a coach makes a lot of sense.

This was John's first time running with Gerardo, and in his words, he had a mental record button just listening to the two of us talk about training, diet, and technique.  It felt good knowing that we were helping John improve even if it was coming at the expense of my trying to break bad habits.  Bad habits I hope John doesn't have to experience for himself.

One downside that I noticed to running with my friends today was that I ran a little harder than what my workout called for.  I was supposed to stay in zone 2 heart rate but was usually in the low zone 3 range.  What's worse though is that now my zone 3, with my new running style, means I'm running 9:30-minute miles.  That's terrible for me!  Last year I was running 8:00-8:15-minute miles regularly en route to my 1:45 Surf City Half Marathon.

I never expected proper form and technique would actually make me slower.  Part of me just wants to go back to running the way I used to.  But I know I need to be thinking of the long-term here, so I'll keep leaning forward at the ankles and pushing ahead. Slowly.

160 days and counting.

Avoiding the Lizard Brain

I don't want to write about triathlon training tonight.  I hope you'll indulge me for a moment, especially if you find yourself strapped to a desk during the workday. I've had a big plan to write at work.  I've been putting it off for the past week, often letting the excuse of  how busy it is in the office derail my best intentions.  After all, I felt needed with all the distractions -- whether they were in the form of people visiting my desk, email, phone, etc.

But the bottom line was that the important work wasn't getting done. One of my favorite bloggers, Seth Godin, refers to this as giving into the Lizard Brain.  This is the part of the brain that is purely emotional and often recoils in the face of danger or anything remotely uncomfortable.  I knew that I had more control over my schedule, but that I was giving into my own Lizard Brain by thinking all the distractions were diminishing my productivity.

So, I tried something new.  It may sound shocking, so brace yourselves...

I TURNED OFF EMAIL.

<GASP!!!>

Yeah, I know.  What a concept!  I'm not gonna lie, I had withdrawals.  I felt like I was missing out on fresh information, that maybe I was falling behind the loop of being "in the know."

That lasted around 30 minutes.  Then, I practically forgot about email.  And while I did check periodically throughout the day, turning off my email enabled me to enjoy one of my most productive days at work in several months. I researched, developed and produced my plan.  Finally.  And I even responded to the most important emails of the day after that, not to mention picking up the phone to call people to cut down on email traffic.  What a concept!

Let's turn this back to triathlon for a moment.  What is your Lizard Brain preventing you from confronting?  What should you be working on in your training that you're avoiding?  How can you reduce your distractions to focus on what's important?  What can you do to control your situation more effectively?

Don't give into the Lizard Brain.  It's slowing you down.

161 days and counting.

1 Step Backward, 1 Step Forward

I had to write my first "race exemption" email today, and I didn't like how it felt. The Los Angeles 13.1 Marathon is this Sunday.  I signed up shortly after completing Ironman Arizona, thinking that more running would equate to becoming a better runner.  I desperately wanted to improve my marathon time, and figured I'd be fine to resume training after about two weeks off. Unfortunately, while my heart has and continues to be willing, my body just hasn't quite cooperated.  That's not to say my recovery is going poorly.  Far from it, once I accepted and embraced that I needed a recovery period.  I'm feeling stronger every day now and my lingering leg pains are starting to subside.  But the point is that I don't really need this half-marathon, or my Surf City full marathon in a few weeks, to elevate my running.  I didn't know that at the time, though a few of you tried to warn me.  More running can equal more pain.

Still, the frustration at having to bow out of a race gnaws at me. On one hand, I know I'm doing the smart thing.  I keep telling myself, "follow the plan," repeating that mantra daily with each workout.  On the other hand, I feel like I've failed myself by not being able to perform.  It's like some joker pointing his finger at me and saying with a laugh, "You're getting older!"  What's more frustrating though is that I know I could have completed the half-marathon this Sunday.  I might have done it at my current Ironman pace, but I could have run it.  However, at what cost?  My psoas might have tightened up. Or my knee tightness may have increased.

Further, now I can continue to work on improving my new fore-foot strike running technique, which is much more valuable.  There's no pressure of an upcoming race to worry about to take me off my drill work, though I do plan to turn my Surf City marathon into a half-marathon run since I have so many friends doing it too.

So today is a bittersweet day for me as a triathlete.  By taking a step backward physically, I think I've taken a step forward mentally.  I'm practicing what I've been preaching lately.  I'm going to work on getting faster by forcing myself to go a little slower.

For us Type A personalities, that's about the hardest thing there is to do!  Outside of completing an Ironman.

162 days and counting.

Chicken Salad Out of Chicken Sh*t

My morning bike ride started off poorly.  First, my buddy Frank and I were confronted with a fog bank so thick in Agoura Hills that we had to drive back over the hill on the freeway to higher ground to have enough visibility to ride.  But it wouldn't matter, as Frank realized once we prepared to leave that he forgot his shoes at home.  His day was over before it started.  On the day before his birthday, no less. Then, if that wasn't enough, I got a flat tire on my back wheel -- in the first mile of my solo ride.  I knew my back tire had a slight gash in it following my rainy Santa Clarita outing a couple weeks ago.  Yes, Frank suggested I replace the back tire but I thought I could get lucky and make it last a while longer.

Turns out Frank knows what he's talking about.

Fortunately, I noticed my flat about a block away from a cycling group preparing for its own Saturday morning ride. I was even more fortunate that my Fortius teammate Jason decided to ride with this group instead of our team -- he pulled up in his 4Runner almost immediately when I pulled up with my lame bike in the cul-de-sac.  Jason helped me insert an empty Clif Bar wrapper between my new tube and the tire to keep debris out for my ride back to the car.

That wasn't even the highlight of the pit-stop though.  I met Julie, who recognized me from my Fortius race kit and told me she was the person cheering for me at the bike turnaround point at Ironman Arizona.  I had never met Julie in my life, but she was a friend of my buddy at Helen's Cycles, Pete.  Pete told Julie about me and asked her to cheer for me that day.  This unknown cheerleader had remained a mystery for me since then, so I was excited to tell my new friend that hearing her scream for me at those lonely checkpoints truly boosted my energy and resolve heading back into the headwind.  If nothing else, that helped make my brief ride today somewhat of a success.  Saying "thank you" to Julie felt great.

So now that my bike ride was over for the day, I had a choice.  I needed to be back home in 1.5 hours for a family obligation with Steph.  I could just skip working out for the day and lament my bad luck on the bike, or I could try to squeeze in a trail run.

Even though I was bummed about not cycling with Frank and embarrassed by my choke-job on fixing my own bike in front of others, I decided to at least try to fit in a hilly trail run.  I'd have to drive another 30 minutes to the Dirt Mulholland trail, but I couldn't let the whole day be a loss.

I'm so glad I did!  FINALLY, seven weeks after Ironman Arizona, I enjoyed a run where my knees didn't act up!  Yes, my right psoas still felt tight but that was it.  Better still, my calves weren't screaming in pain from my new running technique where I'm trying to run purely off the balls of my feet instead of my old heel-to-toe strike.  Better than all that was my lower, calmer heart-rate on hills.  I felt like I was running slower, but still I managed to bang out nearly six miles in an hour on a hilly trail where my heart-rate only briefly visited zone 4 a few times and I typically stayed in the low-mid 140s.

To think I would have missed that experience had I sulked about my bad luck on the bike.

We often hear about how if you fall off the proverbial bike, you should get right back on it again.

Sometimes, maybe it's best when you fall off the proverbial bike, to simply ditch it and just change into running shoes.  Take what the moment gives you.  Accept it for what it is.  And plan a different route to achieve a goal.

164 days and counting.

Controlling the Uncontrollable

This ain't no 2010. Work is busier.  Multiple projects are shipping this year.  That means multiple business trips, something I didn't really have to contend with much last year, especially in the final six months of Ironman training.  Not so now.  In February, I'll be in London, Las Vegas and San Francisco.  March will see me in Austin, Texas (South by Southwest), and two weeks before my Ironman I'll be at the video games industry's largest trade show of the year, E3.  That will be great for my immune system.

I knew how lucky I was last year as the days went by.  Neither my job nor my personal life really interfered with my training.  It's only my second day back in the office from a prolonged break, and oh how things feel different already.  Though maybe the head cold I picked up while traveling in San Francisco for New Year's is contributing to that.

So what to do?  How to overcome?  I just spent a half-hour today talking to my team about finding new ways to look within to control a scenario -- even when they think things are beyond their control.  For example, instead of lamenting being sick at an inopportune time, maybe rest and nutrition played a factor as well.  Two things one can generally control.

So what can I control given my more demanding schedule?

-- How early I wake up to train.  Maybe I have to get up sooner to ensure I fit both workouts in before work so I can stay later in the evening if need-be.

-- What time I go to bed.  This may be tougher since Steph and I both work fairly long days and don't see each other much during the week as-is.

-- What I eat during the day, and at what times, to ensure I have sustained energy.

-- Accepting that I won't be able to complete every workout like I used to.  I need to be smarter.  I need to listen to my body more, especially now with some creakier knees.

-- Following workouts more closely and less freelancing.  My tendency would be to pack more intensity into each workout to make up for lost ground or time.  But I know the body doesn't train that way, even more so now that I'm reading Joe Friel's book, Your Best Triathlon.  I'll write more about that another time, but so far it's super helpful in filling in the blanks between the how's of training and the WHY.

I'll try to think of more ways I can control this situation, but if you have ideas based on what's worked for you, I'd love to hear them.

167 days and counting.

Breathing Lesson

There are training breakthroughs that come through repetition. And there are those that come unexpectedly, just by watching someone else. I experienced the latter tonight in the pool, and the "aha!" moment was truly profound.  During my Fortius-coached swim workout, Gerardo had us perform a drill where we could breathe three times per 25 yards, then five, then seven, then once and finally two 25s without a breath.  I thought the two 25s (not necessarily back-to-back) would be impossible.  I couldn't do something like that when I was in far better shape than how I've felt lately -- even though I felt particularly fresh tonight.

All that changed when I watched my teammate Mike glide across the pool almost effortlessly without taking a breath.  Honestly, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever witnessed in the water.  Mike looked like he was going SLOW as he skimmed the pool surface.  Arms looping upward the way a steamboat might cross a river.  When he rejoined my lane mates, I had to ask him how he did that -- the key was relaxation, he said.

It was my turn to try.  I decided to go slower than usual, which to me was seemingly paradoxical considering I wouldn't be able to take a breath for the entire pool length.  While I've completed the exercise in the past (tense, hurried and anxious underwater), I had never done it so easily as I did tonight. I actually felt like I was gliding too! Were it not for watching Mike first, I'm not sure I'd have believed in myself to even think I could do it.  Then, I was able to outperform my own expectations further by only taking one breath for an entire 50, something I've never even come close to doing.

By relaxing more in the water, I actually got faster in my time trials tonight.  In fact, I was on pace for a 1:14 100 with my :37 50 at the end of the workout in a relay race.  Obviously, I realize I may have slowed on my second 50, but tonight was not only a huge lesson learned, it also will help my swimming immensely moving forward.  Perhaps all other aspects of my training.

Relax!  Let the speed come to me.  Form.  Technique.  Breathing.

Well, maybe not the last one.

168 days and counting.

A Rant and a Bet

Yesterday I indicated I'd write about resolutions for the new year.  But I need to rant first for just a second. Sometimes I just don't know which expert to listen to when it comes to keeping me healthy and strong.  Does that ever happen to you?  I've got workouts from Coach Gerardo.  I've got a carefully crafted strength-building regimen from the Shan Clan.  I've got a set of exercises to do from my ART therapist, Dr. Ben.  I've been going to a deep stretch yoga class where the instructor showed me one set of exercises for hip openers and today I went to another yoga class where the instructor told me essentially the opposite of what the Shan Clan and Dr. Ben were advising.

Who the heck am I supposed to listen to!?!?!

Today's conflicting advice came courtesy of a well-intentioned instructor teaching an Anasura-based mixed-level flow class.  I came into class fresh off my first run in two weeks, a stride-counting exercise where I was tasked with 30+ strides in 20 seconds on a slight hill.  The good news is that my left leg and hip held up fine.  The bad news is that towards the end of my run, I felt a twinge in my right psoas area (where the hip seems to meet the groin) and on the outside of my right knee.  I hadn't even been running 30 minutes.

I told the yoga instructor of my troubles and she paid special attention to me in class, adjusting me regularly in poses I thought I knew well.  It was a humbling but informative experience. But the surprising part came towards the end of class when she told me I needed to stop "clenching my butt" so much in yoga poses and relax more in the glutes.

I've been called a tight ass before, but never quite like that.

What I couldn't understand was why I was being told to do exercises like bridge pose or glute exercises where that's precisely the goal.  So I asked the instructor, and her eyes widened.

"That's the WORST exercise you could be doing for yourself!" she whisper-exclaimed, trying not to disturb the peacefulness of the flow.  "That's exactly why your psoas muscles are as tight as they are!"

Now I'm totally confused.  Has this ever happened to you?  Whose advice should be considered more "expert" than the other experts???  Normally I'd say my coach, but he's not a yoga instructor, nor an ART therapist.

Some days, I can't help but just let out a big sigh at the end of my training day.

***

OK, rant over.

On to the annual empty-promise exercise known as The New Year's Resolution.

I was thinking of generic resolutions (e.g., "spend more time volunteering,") when I read this blog post from "In Over Your Head" (Julien Smith) that my father forwarded to me.  I highly recommend you take a minute to read it too.  The short version: Treat your resolutions like bets.  "This past New Year, you probably had an opportunity to make a bet with yourself. You may see it as a resolution, but that’s not actually what it is. It is a bet, and if you lose, you will actually be worse off than you were before. The opportunity will be gone, and you will have less hope about being able to change. You will have lost the bet, and you should treat it that way."

This really changes how I look at resolutions.  I will take them more seriously moving forward.  If I'm going to say it, there needs to be real skin in the game, so to speak.

After reading that post, I promptly found a Post-It note and wrote the following: "Break 12:00:00 at Coeur d'Alene."  It now sits smack in the center of my bathroom.  Soon there's not going to be any room to see myself on that mirror!

I know how risky this bet is.  I know I'm behind in my training.  I know I'm listening to several masters right now telling me how to restore my health.  But I'm still going to bet myself I can break 12 hours at IM CDA.  And I'm making my bet public.  Let's see what happens.

I'm also going to bet myself that I can volunteer at least nine times this year.  It may seem low, but considering how little I've done in the past it's a huge jump.  My bet  allows me to pick something almost monthly while leaving big "milestone" months alone if need-be (e.g., June (IM CDA), August (wedding), and September (honeymoon)).

What are you going to bet this year?

169 days and counting.

Ramping Up, Slowing Down

My vacation has felt like anything but. Though my "office" work has declined, my writing has increased.  I'm working on two columns for Lava, a story for the Fortius website and I'm trying to keep up with blogging.

I'm living on my keyboard. And loving it.  This is what I was always meant to do, but I knew it would be difficult to make a living as a journalist.  Hence, focusing on marketing and public relations starting my senior year of college.  It took me several years after graduation though to realize I could continue my writing career while paying the bills doing something else I enjoy.

Career Nirvana.

I actually prefer this approach even if I could make a career writing full-time.  Growing up, I was a sportswriter (stringer) for the Simi Valley Enterprise, LA Daily News and ultimately my high school and college newspapers.  I found that when I became the college basketball beat reporter for the Arizona Daily Wildcat that college basketball became less fun.  It became "work."  So the more I can truly enjoy writing for its own sake, the better off I'll be.

I wish the same could be said for my training right now.  My IT bands continue to bother me, and I'm just not healing the way I thought I would from Ironman Arizona.  Even though the desire is there, I find that each workout is still filled with annoying locking in my right leg.  Which makes it a little less enjoyable.  There's no Nirvana.  No vacation.  Just work, without the sense of accomplishment.

I now realize that it's probably time to slow down on the pedaling, the kicking and the running. I need to listen to my body.  I can't just will it to get better.  I may have to live with writing about triathlon for the time being and not being as active a participant as I'd like.

I wonder how I'll get through that.  The Surf City Marathon is now in jeopardy.  So is the Los Angeles Half-Marathon I just signed up for.

Writing will become my new training.  My healing process.  My dealing process.

I think it will help.  Like a counter-balance.

For those of you going through injuries as well, we'll get through this together.  I'll help you.  You help me.

Deal?

184 days and counting.

Back in the Saddle

You know it's been a while since your last bike ride when you have to think hard about what to pack in your gear bag beforehand. And you get out of the car at the meeting spot with your teammates realizing you forgot your helmet.

That's how my morning started with a few folks from the Fortius team (Mike, Tom, and Yolanda) in Northridge.  Fortunately, Tom lived nearby and was kind enough to retrieve a back-up helmet.  The only thing is, Tom is about 6"5 and weighs nearly twice as much (which I mean in the most respectful way, Tom!).  So, his helmet size is a wee bit larger.  I had to borrow a hat from Mike and tighten the helmet straps all the way to keep it remotely close to snug on my head.  My shadow image made my head look like a mushroom.

I needed the helmet to be as tight as possible because the winds heading out to Santa Clarita Valley were nearly as punishing as Ironman Arizona.  What a way to return to outdoor cycling for the first time since the race. I certainly had a few flashbacks as I got tossed from one side of the bike lane to the other from the nasty crosswinds. At one point, my makeshift helmet blew backwards, causing my hat brim to blow upward and almost right off my head!  It was a sorry sight to see.

Mike and I rode with Tom for the first hour of his scheduled four-hour journey. Yolanda headed back a little early.  Since Mike ran the CIM marathon last week, our pace was leisurely at best. We meandered through 26 miles in around two hours, though that included lots of elevation and a few breaks.  I didn't wear my Garmin watch since I just wanted to enjoy the ride. I'm trying to find that happy place where the training is "fun" again, and one way I'm planning to do that is through taking a bit easier on analyzing all the data for the time being.  I know what I need to do to recover, and a big chunk of that process will involve simply smiling and joking more during workouts instead of staring at my watch as often.

That said, I had a thought during an especially long, windy, uphill climb this morning.  I should have trained in poorer weather conditions more often this past season.  Granted, that can be easier said than done in pristine Southern California.  However, I think my psyche was HOPING for great weather in Tempe rather training as hard as I could have to account for less-than-ideal conditions.

How do you walk the line between enjoying your training and finding nasty weather to improve?

I made a pledge to myself this morning that I will hunt down wind, rain, cold and heat more often this coming year.  It's sort of a training resolution.  Though I have great respect for Mother Nature, I'm not going to be afraid of her.  I think that mentality, along with a worry about my ability to fix flats on my own, kept me from reaching my full potential this past year.

No more.

Training smarter, in this instance, may mean training harder.

And while the results on a per-workout basis may not be pleasant to view, it may pay off in Idaho this summer.  I'm not sure what the race conditions will be there, but whatever they are, I want to be ready for them.

After Mike and I returned from our ride, I drove to Simi Valley visit my parents and to meet my dad for an impromptu lunch at my favorite barbecue joint not located in Austin, Texas.  As you can see here, my appetite continues to grow.  I've now gained about seven pounds post Ironman, with no end in sight.  Both my parents commented that I look much healthier and less gaunt.  Too bad most of these pounds are probably garbage weight from one too many helpings of cookies, steaks, shakes and cupcakes.

Shhh, it'll be our little secret.

Tomorrow, I have my first week of officially scheduled IM CdA training workouts.  The real work begins again.  No more "do whatever you want" workouts. My three-week training holiday is drawing to a close.  I'm sad about that on one hand.  I've gotten a glimpse back into the good life of spending lots of free time with Stephanie, sleeping in late and generally being lazy.  On the other hand, I can feel my body changing for the worse.  My legs are tighter.  I've been a little moodier the past few days as well.

So, back in the saddle, again.  With a renewed sense of purpose (become a better, smarter triathlete), a new goal in mind (beat my IMAZ time), a new plan in my head (have more fun this season, but push myself a little harder), and a lot more confidence (I know what it takes to be an Ironman).

I hope you'll continue to go on the journey with me.

191 days and counting.

Benefits to a Late-Season Race

I am learning that the holidays are the perfect excuse for an extended hiatus from training. It's not that I don't want to train.  I do, legitimately.  In fact, I swam a whopping half-hour, ran three miles and spun for a little more than an hour this week.

Of course, I used to do that as a warm up in Ironman training, but hey, let's not be too harsh right now.  I have a delicate ego at the moment.  Steph teased this morning that she found lint in my belly button (TMI?), and the only thing that ran through my mind was, "That means there's a belly now large enough to have lint again!"

We triathletes are a messed up bunch, aren't we!?

But thank goodness for the holidays.  The timing for Ironman Arizona really couldn't be much better.  You run the race, you recover, you eat a lot of turkey, you catch your breath, light some Hanukkah candles, light some birthday candles (happy birthday, Stephanie!) and BAM!  Christmas is around the corner, along with all the year-end holiday parties.  So, with such a schedule to keep, it's easy to let training fall by the wayside a bit.  Could you ask for a better excuse?  Our significant others, friends and families have put up with so much crap from us for the rest of the year, a year-end race has a built-in recovery period that forces other priorities to take their rightful place atop the life podium.

The holidays also provide an opportunity to socialize with our spandex-clad warriors in arms sans swim, bike or run gear.  Last night, for example, Fortius teammate, friend and massage therapist David co-hosted a 1920's themed birthday party in Los Angeles.  Several teammates and LA Tri Club members showed up, the vast majority sporting period-appropriate costumes.  We looked uniform, as usual, but with a different flair and lighter attitude.  It was nice to unwind in a different setting, and it actually helped boost my training batteries indirectly since it's obvious other folks are going through a bit of the Winter Training Blues like me.

So, if you're considering which Ironman to sign up for, I'd definitely recommend a late-season race.  Don't make me cut you.

Trust me, you're going to need the recovery period no matter what.  Might as well make it a merry as can be.

192 days and counting...slowly.

PS: With two birthday parties, an awards show and a company holiday party, there's no working out today -- for two days in a row now.