Spinning Head

Usually, my body is sore and I'm physically spent after a Saturday brick workout. Despite the heat and a nearly three-hour time time trial, it's my brain that hurts the most right now.

Don't worry, mom, I didn't crash!

Following our weekly Fortius group training session, Coach Gerardo led a Vineman 70.3 pre-race preparation discussion with Richard, Ann, Mike, Karen and me.  He's a great resource considering he has completed the Vineman course four times, and Mike has done it before too.

I think my head is spinning even more than my legs did pedaling up Mulholland Drive this morning!

I came home and am blogging almost immediately to capture as much information as possible.  In fact, before the "pretty" form you see here and below, I literally brain-dumped out as much as I could remember.

I'm labeling it as Pre-Race, Transitions and Race for those of you also preparing for other Half-Ironman events -- at Vineman or elsewhere.

Pre-Race

• Bring a second pair of socks
• On Friday, get to the beach by 4 p.m. before it closes.
• Running bag needs to be delivered on Saturday and should contain salt tablets, fuel belt, extra gels and bars, hat, extra sunblock and extra pair of socks.
• Bring bike to packet pick up to bike the run course.

Transitions

• Put baby powder in my shoes and on my feet, along with generous helpings of tri-glide to avoid blistering
• There's apparently a 30% grade coming out of the T1 chute.  Gerardo is suggesting clipping the shoes on the bike to ensure a safer run up the hill and putting on the shoes either while moving on the bike or at the mount point. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about this since I haven't practiced those kinds of transitions.  That's something I need to do in the future.
• Don't fill water in my fuel belt water bottles until the first aid station, where the water will be cold and help me avoid cramping.

Race

• Knock off a little of the pace on the bike to preserve for the run
• Avoid people hosing you down during the run as much as possible.  Keep feet dry.
• If warm out, wear arm coolers under wetsuit during swim.  If not, save for T1.
• Eat breakfast at least 2 hours before your wave time.  Make sure you consume at least 600 calories.  Considering I burned 1,500 calories in just shy of three hours today in 80-something degree heat, I'm surprised it's not even higher.  Then again, we should be eating and drinking throughout the bike ride.
• Red-tinted or clear-tinted sunglasses will be most effective dealing with the sun reflections on the bike at the race.  I have neither. Hmm.  Dark glasses will be the worst.  Those, I have.
• Pace your own race.  Don't get caught up in competing with others.  This is going to be the most difficult thing for me to avoid.  I need to find a way to control my competitive urges.  I'll have to focus on looking at my watch, not others.
• Watch the hills on the bike and don't be over-aggressive on climbing them.  Save your energy for the run.

Overall, the three most important tips are:

• Knock a little off the bike race pace to conserve energy on the run.  Same goes for the swim.  It's better to lose a few minutes in the water and on the bike rather than up to an hour on the run due to dehydration.
• Race nutrition is everything.  I should basically be drinking a full water bottle per hour on the bike, and possibly an added bottle if it's hot.
• Run your own race.  Stay within yourself.  Pacing!  This is not a sprint or Olympic triathlon.  According to Gerardo, a Half-Ironman is the most difficult race to get right when it comes to pacing and proper nutrition.  It's a very fine balance between pushing too much and too little, and the consequences are severe when doing the latter.  Since this is my first Half-Ironman, I'm especially nervous about learning about this point the hard way.

I'm sure I forgot more than I remembered.  But this should help keep me on track during the race.  Not mentioned today but rather during my swim this past Thursday is to focus on flow and not mechanics in the water.  If I can keep my breathing in check, that should help a lot.  I found a real good breathing cadence during my 1,000 yard time trial, which netted me a personal-best 18:27.  My pace per 100 yards is now 1:52, down from 2:05 in the pool when I first started.  This also came less from worrying about my stroke and concentrating more on my breath.  My new swim PR time led Gerardo to predict it should take me roughly 37 minutes to swim 1.2 miles at Vineman.  We'll see how close he is.  So far, every time he's predicted a pace result for me, he's been pretty much right on the nose.

I hope he predicts a 5:30 Half-Ironman!  Though I suspect I'll be in the 6:00-6:30 range depending on the heat.

OK, I'm heading into the final week of Half-Ironman training.  I'm physically ready.  I'm mentally prepared.  The waiting game officially begins tomorrow, during my first weekend non- pre race off-day I can recall since joining Fortius.  I'll spend it with family, watching Le Tour and Spain vs. Netherlands (Espana wins 2-1, btw).  Along with sending Mike off in style for his first Ironman, Lake Placid.

Now, it's time to enjoy the rest of my day and night, which consists of today's Tour stage, burgers and beer with my buddy TJ and Predators.  My kind of night.

And a welcome distraction to take my mind off all these mental checklist items for next week!

133 days and counting.

Fatigued But Not Deflated

Swimming practice at 6 a.m. came and went today.  Track practice at 6 p.m. came and went as well. I was just too tired.  I'm still planning to attend tonight's swim at 7:30 p.m., but I'm not quite 100%.  It could be allergies -- my eyes are itchy and my prescription medications needed refills.  It could be Trudy and Bam-Bam -- I put a small hole in my bedroom ceiling last week with a shovel handle due to the pounding noise directly over my head that continues regularly at 6:30 a.m.  It could be the workouts themselves -- I pushed myself pretty hard during Monday's and Wednesday's brick workouts.  Maybe it's even the tapering cycle  for Vineman 70.3 taking its natural toll.

It's probably a combination of all the above.

Whatever it is, I'm tired.  So tired I slept 10 hours last night and it felt like it wasn't nearly enough all day at work.

This time, I'm smarter though.  In past races I'd probably get panic-stricken, wondering if I was getting sick or losing my fitness.  I know better.  It's not a big deal. I'm just a little gassed.  I refilled my prescriptions, took the little I have left of my Allegra, and am starting to feel a little better already.  I slept in this morning instead of dragging myself to the pool just because I thought I had to.

Besides, today's track workout was optional, with Coach Gerardo indicating I could skip it if I felt tired.

Commence skipping.

And in the next 30 minutes, commence swimming.

135 days and counting.

Ironman and Beyond

Somewhere amidst the craziness of the past few days, I'm still managing to fit in my Ironman training.  Today marked the annual LA Tri Club Wednesday Griffith Park brick, which was a welcome return to normalcy. I think the collective energy spent running around town and balancing the other important aspects of my life are taking a slight toll on me physically this week.  My bike ride was average at best, though to be fair a breezy cross-wind in the hills leading up to the Griffith Observatory slowed me down too.  The first 20 minutes of the ride were especially hard on my legs.  I couldn't tell if that's because I need more time to warm up or if I'm simply a little fatigued. It's probably a combination of both.

I picked it up on the run though, banging out 7:52, 7:38 and 7:24 miles to wrap up the day.  However, as a result of pushing it a bit I may sit out tomorrow evening's track workout depending on how I feel.  It's optional based on Coach Gerardo's schedule so we'll take it as it comes.

Let's focus on the big picture for the moment though.  Earlier today, I mentioned I signed up for my second Ironman Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. (This means I'll need to really remember how to spell this place properly!) June 2011.

Am I nuts!?  I haven't even completed my first Ironman! I have no idea what to expect or if my body can even handle it yet I'm going for it again.  Is that confidence or stupidity?  Both?  One thing it is for certain is an example of healthy peer pressure, as my Fortius buddies Richard and David are signed up as well.

Rationally speaking, the reason I signed up is that I figure I'll be in peak physical condition (knocks on wood) and want to take advantage of that as much as possible while I have the time and ability to stay that way.  Further, Stephanie and I will be married in September 2011 in all likelihood.  Completing my second Ironman at the end of June allows me to enjoy the rest of the summer, focus on wedding planning and generally relax instead of training myself into the ground right before The Big Day.  I envision that I'll still complete a couple Olympic-distance events before the wedding though and maybe one late in October just to keep me honest.  Then, my long-term goal is to focus on one more Ironman the following year, an international event in some exotic location.  After that, I'll likely switch to Half-Ironman events and ease back on the training intensity a little.

Of course, we all know that G-d laughs at those who make plans. Still, I like to hedge my bets. If I can pull it all off, it will be one heck of an adventure.

Actually, it already has been!  I can only hope and dream that the best is still left to come.

Still 136 days and counting.

Wake Up Call

Well, I won't make that mistake again. "That mistake" was misinterpreting Coach Gerardo's directions this morning during the bike portion of our Vineman simulation brick workout.  At the first climb in Hidden Valley on Portrero Road (just shy of Sly Stallone's place), Gerardo indicated that once I got to the crest, I should come immediately back.  I thought he meant the crest of the entire climb, which would have been the peak of Portrero Road before the steep and tricky descent into Camarillo.

In hindsight, I realize how silly this logic was.  But, I was in a cycling groove, hypnotized by a consistent pedal cadence and from riding largely by myself -- though my teammates were nearby.  It's at those moments when I'm truly in a cycling trance.  Not really thinking about anything important, but rather the ride itself.  How I'm feeling, how the ride is going, what's next whether climb, flat or descent.

I had only realized my mistake when I returned from the second Portrero peak and didn't see teammates Jason, Richard or Karen anywhere, let alone Mike's sag vehicle.  It then became a frenzied solo journey back to Las Virgenes Road and Mullholland Drive.  To make matters worse, my cell phone died.  I didn't place it in the usual Ziplock baggie, and I finally paid the ultimate price.  While the phone itself turns on, it resets itself the moment I try to dial a phone number or punch in any key, for that matter.

Finally, after an added nine miles and 20 minutes of pedaling, I rejoined Mike, quickly changed clothes and ran into Malibu Creek State Park for a 6.6 mile workout.  The time was after noon, and this was designed to simulate the expected hot and sunny conditions we'll face at Vineman 70.3 in a couple weeks.  To better combat the elements, I tried a pair of DeSoto arm coolers.  It's hard to say whether they had a physical effect, but my arms were certainly cooler and my heart-rate remained closer to 160 bpm (low zone 4) compared to the upper 160s it had been while training in 90-degree-plus weather in Arizona.  I completed the running loop, which took me through rocks, creeks, scrub, and dust to the base of the Bulldog Trail, in just about 1:05:00.  It wasn't the fastest pace, but it wasn't the easiest terrain.

Like it or not thoughm, I'm about as ready as I'm going to be for a Half-Ironman.  I remember thinking during the run that the discomfort I was feeling at the end of the run is only going to be compounded on race day. Especially since I'd need to bang out another 6.5 miles before finishing, not to mention adding a 1.2 mile swim and nine more miles to my bike ride.

So while the physical aspects of today's training session were valuable, the most valuable aspect by far was the metaphorical splash of cold water on my ego that just because I can fare well in an Olympic distance triathlon...we're about to enter completely new territory.  What I've done in the past does not matter one bit at a Half-Ironman.

Wake up call received.

Just not from my defunct cell phone.

137 days and counting.

I Fought the Law...

...And The Law told me to shove it. I lost my appeal with the USAT regarding my Breath of Life cycling penalty.  It wasn't even close.  Here's the full explanation, in all its glory, courtesy of the head race official.  At least my appeal made its way to the top of the food chain short of the USAT Protest Committee itself.

"Violation notes:

#906 Male  LA Tri jersey - Observed entering passing zone from rear.  No pass attempted after 40 second count. - 5.10a - Drafting - 2:00 penalty

Explanation: After an individual enters the passing zone from the rear, they have 15 seconds to complete the pass.  A complete pass is when the individual's front tire passes the front plane of the front tire of the person being passed.  I observed this particular violation on my second lap of the course on W. Gonzales Road, most likely your 2nd bike lap as well.  As observed and recorded, the assessed penalty for violation of Competitive Rule 5.10a will stand."

I tried in vain to explain that the guy on my right was steadily veering left, forcing me a wider passing angle that would require me to circumnavigate the orange cones -- which would also be a penalty.  Unfortunately, the appeals process doesn't work that way.  Unless there's a factual mistake, these kinds of appeals rarely are overturned.  Here's why, and thanks once again to the race official for explicitly pointing this out:

Article X

Protests

10.1 Proper Subject of Protest. No protest may be filed with respect to matters which were observed by or previously ruled upon by a race official. No person may file a protest which requires a judgement call. A "judgement call," as used in these Rules, means the resolution of a dispute involving one or more material facts which cannot be determined with certainty solely through the production of tangible physical evidence. The term "judgement call" shall include but shall not be limited to a resolution of:

(a) any purported violation of the cycling position foul Rules (including alleged drafting violations);

(b) allegations of blocking, obstruction, or interference; or

(c) allegations of unsportsmanlike conduct.

Any protest filed in contravention of this Section shall be summarily dismissed under Section 10.4.

10.4 Summary Dismissal of Protest. With respect to each protest filed, the Head Referee shall make an initial determination as to whether the protest complies with all of the provisions of the Article and whether the protest is factually sufficient to support a ruling by the Protest Committee. If the protest is improper or deficient in any respect, the Head Referee shall summarily reject and dismiss the protest and shall not be required to submit the matter to the Protest Committee. If the defect is curable in the opinion of the Head Referee, the Head Referee may allow the protest to be resubmitted within a reasonable time, even if the time period in Section 10.5 has already expired.

...And with that, my last gasp for Breath of Life glory was extinguished.  Coldly.  Impersonally.

Of course, those precious few of you who read my blog every day know that I essentially brought this on myself by joking the day beforehand that I'd be drafting during the race.

I hate being right...especially in this instance.  Especially when I went out of my way not to joke about it!

Oh well.  Breath of Life is officially over.

Helllloooooo Vineman 70.3!

(Now where is that darned visor I just got in the mail?)

142 days and counting.

They Can't Take That Away From Me...

What a blur. That's what today's Breath of Life Olympic distance triathlon felt like.

I remember the race in flashes.  The chaos of entering the water and literally grappling with several people through the first buoy.  Elbows over other competitors' shoulders.  Elbows in my head.  My foot buried in a competitor's torso who grabbed my leg for momentum at a buoy.  Bedlam in the water.  The only way I can describe it more visually is that swimming in this break felt like watching the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan when the soldiers are scrambling underwater to get their bearings while their heart-rate is going through the roof from the panic.

Of course, there were no machine gun nests and pissed off Nazis at this event.

On second thought, bad comparison.

Back to the swim.  The water in Ventura Harbor is putrid.  The kind where you truly regret gulping in your mouth.  I thought so much about how awful the water was that a few times I had to re-focus my concentration on my swim stroke.  The color was just as bad.  Brown, murky, muddy...only punctuated by moments of jolting warm or coldness determined by whether you swam through someone's pee stream.  The ocean water was so thick the pee seemed to pool together, almost like an oil spill.

It was that kind of swim.  But the worst part was the course map itself.  Nobody -- not even the lifeguards stationed on paddle boards in the marina -- had any idea where they were during the swim.  You just sort of followed the people around you and hoped you weren't going too far off course. I got lucky.  My Garmin watch data map revealed only a few spots where I needed to recalibrate direction.

The uncertainty of my bearings and my displeasure with the water actually worked in favor of a personal best time.  I just wanted to get the hell out of the water, and because I wasn't sure when the turnaround was coming back to shore, I maintained a stronger pace than usual.  Therefore, I was literally astonished to find the shore on my right and catching glimpses of a cheering crowd when I thought I was just getting to the turnaround buoy.  At first I thought it was a different crowd watching from a separate viewing area.  Then, my foggy goggles spied arched balloons.

"I'm here already!" I exclaimed internally.

I made it out of the water in 24:55, by my Garmin watch.  Nearly five minutes faster than my Wildflower swim.

After a fairly quick transition, it was time to get my bike on.  I was encouraged to see my friend Chris just leaving the transition area, for that meant my swim time was even more competitive as that's his specialty. (Later, Stephanie would tell me that I was among the last two-thirds out of the water, causing her worry.)  My Fortius teammate, David, was nowhere to be found though.  He was long gone, perhaps with him my only shot at qualifying for the age-group national championships I coveted.

I vowed to catch him and Chris, though in my head I figured they were as good as gone.  They're both strong cyclists and runners, and with a couple-minute lead I wasn't sure if I could close the gap. It took all three laps of the course, but I found them on my final lap, on Victoria Avenue just past Gonzales.  We exchanged some friendly banter and then it was back to the races.

I felt strong on the bike today. I was rarely passed and while my back ached, little else did.  The difference of racing on a tri bike compared to a roadie cannot be understated.  Proper equipment -- including an aero helmet and race wheels, definitely makes a difference.  And I was able to catch my breath more easily after a hard swim.

Whatever gains I made with my sturdy Cervelo were returned thanks to the USAT, the governing body of the sport that officially sanctioned this race as an age group national qualifier.  Apparently I did something wrong during the race that warranted a two-minute penalty.  I have no idea about the infraction (I'll find out Tuesday according to the website), but I do know when it occurred. I believe it was on my second or third lap off Fifth Street.  A motorcycle pace vehicle with two riders pulled up alongside another rider and me.  The motorbike hovered at our pace, with the person riding in the second seat scribbling furiously into a notebook and then speeding away.  I had a sinking feeling that "something bad" just happened, but I seriously don't know what.  The experience felt akin to getting a moving speeding ticket.  The only thing missing was the pink receipt telling me when to appear in court.  At least I'd know what I did though!  I do know I had someone on my right who was slower than me, which pushed me wider in the left lane.  I remained within the legal cones and I ultimately passed that cyclist.  Moreover, despite yesterday's blog post, I strictly avoided drafting because I knew there would be serious penalties for doing so.  I truly, in my eyes, was following the rules of the road today.

When I learned of this penalty after checking the results this afternoon, I filed an immediate protest.  The penalty would cost me my well-deserved spot as a qualifier.  By one minute.  Two people with slower times will go to Alabama and I most likely won't. Rubbish!  I hope they know their spots are tarnished.  They were not faster than me.

But I didn't know any of this as I jammed my bike into the rack and bolted out for my 10k run.  And bolt I did.  This was by far my best run in any race of any kind.  I felt light, strong and fast -- even letting out a primal yell in the T2 area about how goooood I felt!  This was compounded by my fantastic fiance greeting me halfway through the first mile.  She staked out a spot on the course where she could run beside me and offer support in an unobtrusive way.   I was running well before, but I picked up speed and confidence at this point.  It was good medicine.

The rest of the run comes back to me in flashes as well.  Rounding a corner on the pier after seeing my Fortius teammate Mike and giving him a forceful high-five. Entering the residential neighborhood for the first of my two laps.  Sipping a fraction of the water I grabbed from the first station realizing I wasn't thirsty -- that the three-fourths of the Perpetuem bottle consumed on the bike would be enough. Finally!  I've nailed race-day nutrition. Oatmeal two hours before.  Half a banana 30 minutes before.  A gel 15 minutes before.  Half a Clif bar on the bike.  And eating half of a Hammer gel at mile three realizing I wasn't hungry enough to need the rest and that screwing up my breathing pattern was a bigger risk. Seeing friends going out on the run as I was chugging hard at the fifth mile to find extra speed.  Confirming during that fifth mile with a hopeful glance at my watch that I was going to break 2:30:00 -- if I just held it together.  If I just continued to focus on my breathing and STAY IN THE MOMENT, like Coach Gerardo and Richard showed me this past Wednesday.  Oh, how important that workout had become!  Scorning a poor defenseless female runner who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, blocking my ability to pass on a sharp right turn at a narrow choke point. (Whomever you are, I'm sorry for yelling "c'mon c'mon!" to get you to clear space for me.  I know I startled you.)

And that final sixth mile.  Which seemed to go on forever.  One volunteer in a USC hat told me it was a quarter mile to go at what turned out to be a half-mile away.  Mike was at the restaurant perch again telling me another quarter mile to go.  That moment almost broke me as I had timed my finishing kick off the first man.  The toughest part was the final 150 yards, as the course made a sharp left turn that stripped momentum and my ability to figure out where the hell the finish line was. Of course, this prompted me to shout, "Where the fuck do I go!?" to the volunteers who pointed frantically at the right path.

Finally, mercifully, the finish line.  And it read 2:25:59 as I made my final desperate sprint down the chute.  Where I promptly grabbed a water bottle and doused myself with hit.  Elated.  Breathless.  Confident.

The closest I'd probably ever get to spraying champagne in a winners circle.  That's how that moment felt.  VICTORY!  Surprising victory...pushing through physical barriers and mental doubts.

I had qualified for nationals just now.  I competed among the best, and despite my lack of size or deep-dish wheels, I was equal to the task.

I did it!

Only to find out several hours later that no, apparently I had not.

But that is also rubbish.  I DID do it. I can hang with these bigger, stronger, tanned, buffed Adonis warriors.  And I will qualify at some point.  And there will be NOTHING the USAT will do about it.

And there is still plenty to celebrate.  Personal bests all over the place.  Friends completing their first Olympic distance triathlon.  Everyone competing together, supporting each other.

I love this sport.

Just not the suits who run it.

144 days and counting.

Wait, Wait, Wait

These are the most anxious of moments. Twelve hours from now I'll be setting up my transition area, preparing to race at Breath of Life in Ventura.  I wish it were here now.  I guess that's a good thing, right?  Energetic anticipation.  A little bit of nerves.  A lot of excitement.

It's funny that just a few days ago I was freaking out.  I still am just a little, but more like I did at a soccer match as a kid when I had a bizarre and sudden urge to pee seconds before the whistle blew to start the game.  Let's just get this thing going!

I toured the course after picking up my race packet this afternoon.  The good news is that I rode most of this bike course almost a year ago, during my first Olympic triathlon -- Strawberry Fields.  I think back to all the progress I've made since then, and all the mistakes I made during that race. Well, primarily one involving eating and drinking too much Gatorade on the bike.  (I think I ate two Clif bars and drank two bottles of Gatorade!) That led to a cramp-filled run that took all my grit to finish, mercifully at three hours on the nose.

I'm hoping to hit 2:30:00 tomorrow, or perhaps even faster.  Anything below 2:44:00 will be my personal best.

I'm going to ignore my Garmin, though I'll have the stopwatch feature turned on.  I'm going to swim however I feel, bike however I feel, and run as sustainably hard as I can.  Heart-rate be damned.  Though I will try for a negative split to satisfy Coach Gerardo's desires.

The bike course should be favorable, save for some cross winds and one small hill we'll see three times.  The wind will blow west to east, and the course features three laps heading east, south, west, and north.  I'll pace myself accordingly, and if the "race police" aren't looking, maybe I'll tuck in to the left or right of a few riders to let them absorb the winds and let me draft just a bit.

Shh, don't tell anyone.

Now, as the day turns to night, it's time to eat dinner -- Stephanie is cooking an organic pasta meal -- and begin my packing ritual.  I like to get everything in order, in its place, the night before a race. Just like in real life for me.  I'm a "nester" -- everything needs to be in its place before I can relax.  Tomorrow morning, I just want to pick up my bags and head for the door.  Well, after a hot wake-up shower.  I still need to shave too -- my upper body only.  I'm not quite ready for the legs yet, though I probably will trim them at one point before my first Half-Ironman with enough time to spare to let the hairs grow back a little.

What more is there?

Nothing but to rest.  And to wait.

Two things I'm not very good at.

145 days and counting.

Race Ready

Namaste. My weekend began with a yoga session by myself at home.  As I've mentioned before, solitary yoga truly enables me to gain the mental benefits of yoga as much if not more than the physical.  It takes me to a very calm place that I rarely seem able to access.

I have no one to blame for that besides myself.

All the thinking, analyzing, and speculating never seem to stop unless I actively force the issue.

For 40 minutes tonight, I did.  And, like my Wednesday running lesson from Coach Gerardo, I simply focused on breathing.  As much as I could, at least.

More than the immediate physical and spiritual effects this opened up for me, it reinforced what I need to do this Sunday.  While I'll likely keep the heart rate monitor with me, it'll be more for timing checks on the bike and run, less on heart rate itself.  I'll focus on my breathing.  And hopefully go fast as hell.

For now, I declare myself race ready.

Tomorrow is a day of rest, and packet pickup.  Along with that comes a drive-through of the bike and run course.  After that it's all formulaic -- buy nutrition, lay out the transition bag, clean the bike, grab the necessary accessories (canola oil, anyone?).  Then, we wait.

146 days and counting.

How Training and Work Balance are Like Lakers-Celtics

So far at E3 this week, my balance between work and training has matched the Lakers-Celtics series.  Round 1 went squarely to training.  Decisively.  Woke up early to spin and fit in a yoga class before two parties Monday night.  Yesterday, training won out too.  Swam at 6 a.m. and still managed to attend two cocktail parties last night. Today, work wins.  Hands down. I thought I'd be able to wake up early to fit my 2.25-hour brick workout in before a packed day at the convention.  No dice.  Six a.m. came and went on my alarm clock.  So did 7.  Right up until 8:30 a.m.  I've got meetings until 4:30 p.m. today so I'm hopeful to bolt immediately after to make the 5:30 p.m. start at Griffith Park.  I've got one cocktail party tonight but it's not urgent I attend.  Worse comes to worse, I'll make this my day off this week and push the brick to Friday, when the show is already over for me.

As for games I want to check out, well, Bulletstorm is at the top of the list. As is Call of Duty: Black Ops. Throw in some Medal of Honor, Dead Space 2 and Killzone 3, and I'm a happy man.

But I'll be even happier if I can still manage to balance work and training effectively.

One lesson I have learned this week is still related to Lakers-Celtics.  I have a better appreciation for not being able to "get up" for certain days of training, just like a basketball team might not have the intensity necessary to win every game in a long series.  Sometimes, fatigue really does trump your best intentions.  That's what happened to me this morning, and like the Lakers, I don't panic or anything.  I just wait for the next opportunity to show up and put in the effort.

That said, the Lakers better f-ing show up tomorrow night.  No excuses.  Especially against Boston.

My prediction?  Lakers by 5. I called the Lakers in 7 at the beginning of the series but almost lost belief when Andrew Bynum got hurt.  But he's shown me a lot by toughing it out despite his terrible knee injury.  It's inspirational as I continue my training.

Now, work wins again.  I have to cut my post short and get ready for a day of meetings. And hopefully a solid workout.

154 days and counting.

A Special Birthday

It's 6 a.m. on your birthday.  Do you:

A) Smack the clock and go back to sleep

B) Jump in the pool with your training teammates

C) Lock the front door after getting in from a long night of drinking

I went with B) this morning.  And it set the tone for a fantastic birthday.  One of my all-time favorites, in fact.  Though that had little to do with training.  The past couple years, circumstances have prevented Stephanie and I from spending my birthday together.  Today that would change, as it will for hopefully every remaining birthday.  After a Black Dog yoga session that included some inverted wall poses, Steph and I spent the afternoon together, hanging out at Paradise Cove in Malibu and now she's cooking a gourmet feast -- boeuf bourguignon.  I'm a lucky guy!  Make that a VERY lucky guy.

Usually, this is about the time that I devote a few hours to reflect on the past year and think about what I hope to accomplish in the year ahead.  Honestly, I never could have predicted a year ago where my life would be today.  I was reeling from not being with Stephanie and still really just getting my proverbial feet wet in the sport of triathlon.  Now, I'm engaged to the woman I've always loved since before we were dating and I'm training like mad for my first Ironman.  I look and feel like a different person.

What will 36 bring?  Oh, you know, besides a wedding and an Ironman!  Well, in thinking about things, I've grown a lot over the past year.  I think I'm a little more relaxed, a little more confident, a little more competitive.  A lot more grateful.  Perhaps a little wiser.  Maybe even a bit softer around the edges (I hope).  I feel like my own man, though it may have taken a little longer than expected.

Thirty-five was a year of growth and maturation.  I hope 36 brings more of the same, with a killer Ironman Arizona (maybe one more too?) time and a warm, unforgettable wedding.

Is that so much to ask?

Actually, in my renewed state of being, I'll start with a fantastic tomorrow that's unforgettable and productive.  I'll start by encouraging others to be their best, while doing my best too.  One day at a time.  If anything, my Ironman training has taught me that.

162 days and counting.