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.

Racing the Rain

What an ominous-looking day in SoCal. From Balboa Park in Encino to Simi Valley, threatening grey clouds and the wind competed with each other for intimidation supremacy.

Fortunately, the Fortius group started our group ride early enough to avoid the raindrops.  My teammates had a six-hour ride today, or approximately 85 miles.  I was lucky, my assignment was "only" four hours with a brief 15-minute run thrown in at the end.

I accompanied the group to Simi before they turned left at Los Angeles Avenue towards Wood Ranch and Thousand Oaks while I continued straight to visit my parents.

That's where the fun began.

I was so excited to see my folks and surprise them that I forgot to take my keys out of the front door lock.

You can imagine my surprise when I arrived back to Encino two hours later with no keys and eight voice mail messages from my parents.

Fortunately, my dad was nice enough to drive out to drop them off, and I bought him and mom breakfast as a humble, embarrassed thank you.

The part in between though, the actual visit, was great.  I enjoyed a quick snack of berries, chatted about the pseudo-high school reunion I attended last night and terrorized mom with my camera.  I promised I wouldn't show the picture below, but I honestly don't think it's that bad. Do you?

I was supposed to show the latter image instead, since it highlights my mom's real pride and joy: her new kitchen.

Back to the ride.  Despite yesterday's trail run and swim, I felt pretty solid on the bike.  The Santa Susana Pass climb becomes easier and faster each time I make it.  The descents do too.  I was certainly ready for the ride to be over by the time the four hour mark ticked off on my heart-rate monitor watch (NO, not the Garmin.  Soon.  Honestly.). Overall, I was pleased with my performance today.  Door-to-door from Simi to Balboa Park on my return trip, with several traffic stops and two brief snack pauses: one hour, 56 minutes.

I'm definitely ready for a nap now though. Or an Epsom salt bath.  Or a massage.  Or bon-bons.

Just anything but more exercise, OK?

Especially if it's going to rain.

275 days and counting.

Take that, Boney Mtn Trail!

Progress in Ironman training, or any kind of training for that matter, comes in many forms.

I can be physically measured, emotionally felt, experienced or visualized.

I was fortunate enough to experience all of these moments during this morning's trail run up Boney Mountain in Newbury Park.

Perhaps the morning was pre-ordained for greatness because I no longer felt the urge to bundle up to avoid the chill.  Like plopping into the pool instead of dipping, I'm finally prepared to handle the cold weather without fear of cramping or getting the chills.  So, in 47-degree weather, I rocked the shorts and T-shirt.  Felt good, too!  Crisp. Light.

The run itself was meant to be a litmus test, though I secretly think the test was rigged. Coach Gerardo didn't allow us to use our runner's watches (in my case, STILL my Polar!) or heart-rate monitors.  We were supposed to run however we felt like running, with "be smart" as the only suggested guideline.  I took that to heart as best I could, but really I felt like an uncaged wild animal from the get-go.  Like I was totally free from the science of the sport and returned to the sheer art and joy of it.

Despite some heavy calves at first, I felt great from the first mile all the way past the 15th, about where we finished.  Physically, I experienced the sensation of gliding along the muddy hills even when I should have felt winded.  Just a couple months ago, during my first Boney Mtn trail experience, I did a lot of walking.  Lots of huffing and puffing too, combined with a shortage of water and proper nutrition.

Last time out, the low-hanging branches and plants that clawed at my legs felt like they were doing their best to push me backwards.

This time, the rain-soaked vegetation reached out to high-five me as I breezed by.

Emotionally, I ran without fear or anxiety.  I knew I belonged in the Fortius training group.  I was part of the team.  I could even help lead it every once in a while.  And it felt good.  Further, the views were spectacular, a steel gray cloudy morning interrupted by patches of teal sky and an apologetic sun for all this wet weather we spoiled Southern Californians have been experiencing.

Speaking of experiencing, I don't think just a couple months ago I could even have run with an understanding of what "be smart" meant.  Though I pushed myself a little hard at parts today -- especially while scampering up the steep hills toward the top of the trail -- I always ran at a measured pace. I was in tune with my heart-rate.  I knew when to push forward, pull back, speed up and slow down.

Never before have I felt so at one with my own body and mind.

And, the visualization, well that's easy.  I can clearly remember parts of my first Boney Mtn trail run where I thought I was in over my head.  The ascents were never-ending.  The terrain caused me uncertainty.  The breaks were too short while the duration between them was too long.

The smile on my face at the top of the peak here is me remembering all those moments and realizing that the person holding the camera this time has changed a lot since then.  On more than one level.

In short, it was a kick-ass run.

And then I swam with Mike for 45 minutes to the tune of 1.25 miles.  Dare I say it was soothing and relaxing?

What's happened to me?

I am becoming an Ironman.

276 days and counting.

Special V-Day Gift

I'd like to return today's Valentine's Day gift. Nah, I take that back.

It arrived early, in the form of an 8 a.m. 15-mile uphill run on the dirt Mulholland trail.  Literally, most of the run was uphill.  After yesterday's 58-mile jaunt through the hills of Malibu Canyon, I can only describe the last 3.5 miles of this morning's run as "haggard."  Then, the giving continued in the form of a 3,000-swim featuring two sets of 1,000 yard ascending and descending T-pace intervals.

Thanks, Coach.

All that said, the run was a beautiful one.  I experienced a new trail, a route known as "the Westridge run." It connects with the Nike missile site and descends all the way to Mandeville Canyon near Santa Monica.  The problem, though, is that what goes down must come up.  And the ascent back to the top of Mulholland from the base of the Westridge trail point is a real grind.  But the view is spectacular.  Truly one of those "wow!" moments that stopped me dead in my tracks.  Literally.  I came to a complete halt taking in the staggering view from Santa Monica clear through the South Bay and even downtown LA.

Wow.

The rest of the run was less beautiful.  Primarily because of how steep and occasionally painful it was on the legs.  Fortunately, my Fortius friends made the experience far more enjoyable, with lots of jokes and banter (as you can see in the top image with Christina and Ray goofing off).  Without them, training would be a lot harder.

Like my solo swim, for example.  Going back-and-forth in the pool almost immediately after the run without any support takes a lot of willpower.  It paid off though.  I learned that now I'm routinely able to drop below my 2:05 threshold pace and can consistently hit two minutes or even less.  My fastest today was 1:54, and that was on my last timed 100 of the day.  To be able to pull that off after such a grueling weekend of training is something that this blog allows me to cherish for just a bit, before heading out to the pool tomorrow to do it all over again.

Accomplishments don't seem to last very long in this sport.

Hopefully the memories last longer.

I suppose, then, that this blog is my gift to myself.

Happy V-Day, me.

282 days and counting.

Restart, Reboot Yourself

Welcome to my new website!

First, I hope you take a moment and read the “About” section along with the blurb on my home page to understand WHY I created IronMadMan.com.

Did that?  Great!

No?  OK, I’ll wait.

<Waiting…>

<Waiting…>

OK!

Today, I’m not going to write about today’s training regimen.

Instead, I want to share with you the hidden soul of my website.  The real reason behind its existence.  IronMadMan.com is inspired by a song from my favorite band, U2.

I heard “Unknown Caller” for the first time at the big Rose Bowl concert in Pasadena this past October 25.  I wasn’t really feeling No Line on the Horizon as an album until Bono, The Edge, Adam and Larry brought it to life in front of nearly 100,000 people.  I didn’t give it a fair shake.

During the show, “Unknown Caller” really spoke to me on a deeper level.

I was lost between the midnight and the dawning In a place of no consequence or company Sweet 33 when the numbers fell off the clock face Speed dialing with no signal at all

The above lyrics describe how my life felt at that moment.  I was a little in the dark.  My mind and heart were not quite in sync.  I lacked a center.  Or, I was fumbling through the dark trying to find it.

And then, with a sweeping chorus echoed by thousands throughout a packed stadium, this:

Restart and reboot yourself You’re free to go Oh, ohhh Shout for joy if you get the chance Password, you, enter here, right now

ZAP!  These words hit me in my gut as hard as the bass from the speakers were gyrating.  No matter what our lives look like at any given moment, to the outside world and in the deepest recesses within our soul, there is always time to reboot.  To refresh.  To start anew.

And it is exhilarating once you make that commitment!

Go, shout it out, rise up Oh, ohhh Escape yourself, and gravity

So, IronMadMan was born in my brain.  And “Unknown Caller” has been on a constant mental loop whenever I think of the site – or my Ironman journey in general.

Dream big.  Reach high.  Shout for joy… if you get the chance.

Password, You.  Enter here.  Right now.

Join me.

293 days and counting.

Pizza as Performance Enhancer

Pizza, apparently, is my new performance enhancement drug.

Am I a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?

Pizza is the only way I can explain today's especially strong workouts. I ate up and spit out 2,200 yards in the pool early this morning, reaching all-time bests in cadence (45 strokes per minute!) and consistent sub-T pace (less than 2:05 per 100 yards)

Then, a few hours later, I crushed an hour run on the treadmill with a series of hill sprints at a 5% grade. I was hungry for more by the time the workout was over.

More training. Not pizza.

The night before, I enjoyed a work-related social event where a few of us got together in the studio for pizza and to watch a movie indirectly related to a project we're working on. (Yep, I know there's a few studio fans who read this, hoping for a scoop. Sorry to disappoint, but no clues today!)

Lately, I've been especially conscious of what kinds of nutrition I'm putting into my body. Even after my meeting with the nutritionist a couple weeks ago, who said I could stand to drink a milkshake or two, I've been hesitant. I'm happy with my appearance, and I have an irrational thought that if I let up on the healthy living for a minute... I'll go back to not looking the way I want. (Yes, I am a little concerned about how that last sentence sounds too, but if you saw how I eat throughout the day, you'd put those worries aside!) But, last night was an exception. Pizza sounded too damn good to pass up. So I splurged. A lot.

I figured I'd be sluggish in the pool as a result, but I felt the exact opposite. Light. Fresh. Strong.

And I have pizza to thank.

OK, maybe two months of consistent training and steady diet may have had something to do with my performance, but c'mon, if pizza did wonders for four turtles then I think we know what really happened here today.

300 days and counting.

Chilly Willy TT

It was 43 degrees when Anat and I started our respective time trials this morning in Agoura. Fog hung dense and low over the Agoura/Calabasas pass on the 101 Freeway. The hills off Kanan Drive leading to Malibu were barely visible, their tips just peeking over the foreboding mist that almost dared me to turn around and crawl back into my warm covers.

Come ride time, we each had three layers of clothing, including two pairs of long sleeves.

I am a total weather wuss, in case you didn't know.

It took a little longer than usual to warm up the legs, obviously. But I didn't rush. I felt sluggish during the warm-up phase as we took a practice lap around Westlake Lake. The strength just wasn't there at first, and my quads burned. That was even with spinning at higher than normal cadence (95-plus rpm) to get the motor runnin'.

Fortunately, when the time came to fire it up, I was ready. At first. I rocketed out to a fast sprint, ramping up to nearly 29 mph down the first straightaway.

I'm not gonna lie, I felt rather Lance-ish at that moment.

Then, reality set in. As did my normal pace, for the most part. On my last TT, I didn't have the benefit of a fully functional speedometer or odometer. This time, I was able to do a better job measuring. If the calculations are accurate, I increased in speed by nearly 2 mph, to a few ticks over 20 mph. I traveled just shy of 6.7 miles in 20 minutes, and my average HR was 164 during that span. That's 10 bpm higher than the last TT. This time, I had more traffic to contend with and the weather was colder, but I was definitely able to pedal harder.

We'll see what Coach Gerardo has to say.

After our TT's were completed, Anat and I headed out to Portrero Road via Lake Sherwood for some spin-ups. We did eight intervals at maximum cadence for 30 seconds, each followed by a full cooldown before ramping back up. By the seventh set, I was getting pretty gassed.

On the way home, Fortius friends Christina, Vinnie and Bee-oh Kim, spotted us fueling up at the Sherwood fire station hydrant. Bee-oh is leaving permanently tomorrow for Korea, where he's been recruited to join the Korean national ITU triathlon team. He will be paid, fed and housed to train full-time. I only had the privilege of training with Bee-oh a couple times, but knew he was "special" because he was always so far ahead of the group that Coach Gerardo would tack on extra sets for him of whatever we were doing.

I feel honored to have trained with someone who will likely be an Olympian in 2012 or 2016. He may even get me to cheer for Korea ahead of the US, blasphemous as that sounds.

Now, after a haircut and a failed attempt at a nap (thanks, Trudy and Bam-Bam!), I'm rallying to meet some long-time friends of mine for a reunion dinner. I'm excited.

I will be home in plenty of time to get up early for training tomorrow, so the afternoon and evening is free for the AFC and NFC Championship games.

My predictions? Saints and Colts meet in the Super Bowl.

305 days and counting.

Fat n' Sassy

Considering I eat roughly seven to eight times a day, my stomach is probably spoiled more than most people.

But the past 24 hours have been especially decadent.

Come to think of it, the past two days have been a spoil-fest -- if I throw in my jaw-dropping experience at Equinox!

My meal-athon began last evening with margaritas and tacos at Casa Vega. It was a fantastic way to ring in my weekly day off from training. After a slight dip in the food quality this morning at breakfast thanks to the awful-tasting (but incredibly healthy) Vega products, I was treated to my favorite Indian food restaurant (Salomi, North Hollywood) at work as part of our weekly catered lunches.

(Yes, I realize how lucky I am!)

But tonight the truly best was saved for last: Kiwami, a relatively new sushi restaurant in Studio City located on Ventura Boulevard (aka "Sushi Row"). I've eaten at many sushi joints over the years, even in Tokyo, and now Kiwami ranks among my all-time favorites. The dishes are varied and light, such as a spicy tuna roll wrapped delicately in nearly transparent cucumbers. The meat is prepared deftly and with just the right amount of spice, such as the herb-dusted lamb chops. The fish is fresh, lightly seasoned and allowed by the chefs to simply speak for itself with just the right amount of garnish. Try the sea bass with cherry tomatoes, presented on a small, square cedar plank. But save room for dessert, as the mochi ice cream caps off the meal perfectly, complete with a generous assortment of strawberries, raspberries, orange and pear slices.

Kiwami is an ode to presentation and proper proportions, all neatly contained in a bustling yet relaxed environment. It's easy to understand why, since Kiwami is part of the renown Katsu family of restaurants (Katsuya, Izakaya, etc.).

If you like sushi, and we all should seeing as how healthy it is considering the training we do, Kiwami can't be missed.

My tasty food and drink binge has left me feeling utterly relaxed -- or as my friend and colleague James says, "fat and sassy." I'm definitely looking forward to another weekend of training and excitement. Tomorrow's regimen includes a two-hour bike ride highlighted by a time trial followed by a 30 minute core strength workout. Anat, my dinner partner tonight, is rallying to join on the bike portion of the workout.

We both will be ready to work off our meals!

306 days and counting.

Equinox: Gym of the Gods

There is a spa masquerading as a gymnasium, nay, a Valhalla, where your every possible fitness want and need is catered to.

It is the gym of the gods.

It is called Equinox.

Massage? Check. Lap pool? Check. Spin cycles? Check. Eucalyptus-scented cold towels? Check. Sauna? Check. Kiehl's soap products in the showers? Yep, got that too.

I have never been to a gym quite like Equinox. And I've been to a lot of gyms over the years. Anat is a member there and invited me to join her early this morning since we both had a swim scheduled in our respective training programs.

Equinox is so impressive that 5:30 a.m. actually can't come soon enough should I train there again. The locker rooms are luxurious. The equipment is cutting edge. Attendants leave you towels by the pool deck. And the view at the Westwood facility, located in my old office space when I worked at Porter Novelli, is spectacular.

What a morning! What a workout.

Today's training was actually fairly tame but still productive. I did 45 minutes of cadence-based swimming, and lowered my strokes per minute down to 48 at one point. This was two strokes less than the last time I tried this, though both Anat and I were contemplating whether the lanes felt closer to 20 yards rather than the customary 25. Following the swim, I spun on the stationary bike for another 45 minutes, with five, three-minute intervals in zone 3 heart-rate. Somewhat surprisingly, this drill was harder than expected. I was pretty well spent by the fifth interval.

Once I completed the brick workout, I was almost saddened that it was time to leave for work. The steam room beckoned. A massage too. I couldn't tell if I was at Burke Williams or a gym. The thought crossed my mind to skip work and hang out at Equinox. So, I settled for a shower that was more refreshing than my own at home, complete with cedar-plank floors and all the best soap products.

Yes, I realize how metro sexual I sound right about now.

And I totally don't care. If you've been to Equinox, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Tomorrow is my day off from training. I may just head back to Equinox and try to sneak in. If there's a nap room open at night so I can escape Trudy and Bam-Bam's pounding, I'm checking into the Hotel Equinox, and you better bring a team of ninjas to check me out. Because I'm not going to go quietly.

307 days and counting.

Oh-Dark Thirty...

My day started off about as early as I can handle, yet I have plenty of energy to sit awake and type all about it now. That's rare for me. I'm usually exhausted by bedtime. Not tonight.

For a change, I awoke ahead of Bam-Bam, meaning 5:30 a.m. I promised my Fortius teammate and friend, Lisa, that I'd do my swim time trial with her. And I really didn't want to flake. Considering it wasn't raining (yet), I had no excuse.

Surprisingly, swimming smoothly as the sky silently becomes light is a beautiful way to wake up. I think I may do it more often. There's something calming about the teal pool water being lit from below while the sky turns from black, to gray, to purple, to blue. All while the steam from below and fog from above swirl together in a hazy mating ritual.

The time trial itself demonstrated one thing and one thing only: If nothing else, I am consistent in the pool right now. Five weeks ago, I swam 1,000 yards in 20:50. Today, I swam 1,000 yards in 20:50. What are the chances of that happening? Probably pretty good for a guy who knows just when to call California Chicken Cafe in Encino when driving from Burbank to pick up my food just as I walk inside the restaurant. When it comes to timing, I have a tendency to operate like clockwork.

But what does this mean? Why didn't I see improvement in five weeks? Or didn't I? I was able to negative split my swim, so the second 500 yards was faster than the first. This didn't happen my first time, but I was only off by two seconds then. This time, it was a bit more pronounced. Is that progress?

Or is progress measured by feeling comfortable in the water? By feeling strong enough to even consider a negative split at the 500-yard mark?

Is progress measured not in seconds but rather by swimming smarter right now, not harder?

I would like to think so.

The rest of the day and evening has been a blur. More to report than I have time to share. Among the highlights, I had a contractor visit my condo to write an estimate for sound-proofing the ceiling. Wow. For the estimated price of remodeling my kitchen, I can have an insulated condo -- with no full guarantee it will eliminate the noise problem. A sizable noise problem, according to the contractor. Further, I got into a nice, heated confrontation with Trudy via phone because the contractor asked me to inquire if her hardwood floors had cork insulation (they do).

We had what some might call a failure to communicate.

Fortunately, the Fortius group brought me back to my Happy Place(TM). We had a group yoga session tonight at Topham Street Gym. It was nice to see everyone in non-cycling, non-running or non-swimming attire. We looked, well, normal! The session was intense but not overpowering. A good precursor to my time-trial run tomorrow a.m.

After the run, the group went for vegan Vietnamese food in Reseda. I was hesitant at first because after my awful-tasting Vega supplement, I was about finished with this vegan lifestyle. Especially considering that I can pretty much eat whatever I want right now within reason! But, I have to admit that this meal rocked! I ordered udon barbecue "chicken" that tasted outstanding. I have leftovers that I can't wait to dive into tomorrow.

Who knows, maybe I'll even put on a pound by then!

All in all, it was a great day. A busy day. A productive day. An insightful day. A satisfying day spent with friends.

A day I'd like to repeat.

309 days and counting.