You Can't Take That Away From Me

Sometimes I feel like I'm a double-agent in my own life. From around 6 to 10 a.m. during the week, I'm the Ironmadman.  I fight sloth, gluttony and temptation by trail, path, road and water.  On wheels, via foot or freestyle.  I am a lean, mean, training machine!

Then, from 10 a.m. until 10 p.m., I'm Joe Working Guy.  Behind the desk.  In meetings.  On conference calls.  Multi-tasking.

Today was one of those dual-identity days.

Less than 12 hours after last night's yoga session, I swam with the Fortius team at 6 in Sherman Oaks.  We worked extensively on technique, which I really needed following my performance at the Desert Tri on Sunday.  I learned a valuable lesson doing the fingertrip drag drills, which are what they sound like.  You can really can go faster by slowing down.  There's something to be said for effortless movement and working with the water, not against it.

Following the swim, I immediately changed into running gear for an hour jog.  I had until 8:20 on the dot to finish, because I had a plane to catch.  Fortunately, Coach Gerardo's brother, Ray, ran with me.  Ray is also the race director for the LA Tri Club and an accomplished ultra-marathoner.  He helped push me a little farther and faster, and kept great company along the way.

As fast as I felt on the road, that's how fast I needed to move to stay on schedule to meet my flight out of Burbank Airport to San Francisco.  From the moment I left the pool shower to now, I've been on the move.  Since 5:30 a.m.  And it literally feels like two separate days.  One part of the day I lived for me, the other I lived so I could pay for more days like the first part!  I'm amused by how separate both experiences today feel, as if I crammed two days into one. I think that's the delicate danger of business travel -- you have to guard those precious moments of free time like a rabid pitbull because meetings, dinners, parties, etc. all can easily hijack your routine.

I'm proud to have carved two hours of training out of a packed day with travel and meetings.  I did something for myself today.  But I'm happier to be alone in my hotel room before 10 p.m.  That means one thing for me tomorrow: The Ironmadman will rise early.  Ready to run.  And no matter how busy the day gets, nobody will take that away from me.

259 days and counting.

Ryan in Wonderland

I attended a screening of "Alice in Wonderland" tonight at the El Capitan Theater in Hollywood. What a trip!

Curious and curiouser still, all I could think about while watching the movie were the parallels between the book/film and my Ironman training.

Beyond the obvious "mad" reference, of course.

First, there's the notion of  accepting the challenge of attempting an Ironman.  It's a bit like falling down the rabbit hole.  You have no idea how far down it goes once you start in this sport.  You think the journey is one thing -- purely a physical test -- and then you realize the trip is something completely different.  Ironman training is really a mental odyssey that twists and turns in ways you cannot begin to imagine at the start.  You laugh initially when people tell you to expect the impossible, for example.  In my case, that came in the form of Coach Gerardo telling me I wouldn't recognize myself physically and mentally in a year.  I scoffed. I know damn well who I am, thank you very much.  After 35 years, I should.  Or, like Alice, I thought I did. Now, it's not been four months and I'm thinking of six impossible things before breakfast... while generally doing them.

However, also like Alice, some days you grow, and some days you shrink.  Your body, along with your capacity to increase your endurance and speed, ebbs and flows. Fatigue, like Alice waking up from a dream, is the determining factor.  One day you feel 10-feet tall.  And on the other, well, you just wish that Cheshire Cat would eat you and get it over with already.

Of course, there is the purely physical side too.  Instead of hanging out with a rabbit obsessed with time, now I chase "rabbits" in a race, picking off that next pesky person in front of me to shave just a few seconds off a personal best time.  And heaven forbid slowing down!  My inner-monologue might as well scream, "I"m late!  I'm late!  For a very important date!"

Curious and curiouser indeed.

In the film, Alice realizes that fantasy can be just as vivid and true as reality.  I recall day-dreaming about Ironman as a kid watching Wide World of Sports on TV.  Now, 25 years later, I'm still pinching myself about what I can accomplish despite having asthma, two flat feet and scoliosis.

Anything is possible.

Go read the book.  See the movie. Think of what's impossible in your life.  And pick each item off the list one by one, like racing to catch a rabbit in a battle against time.

267 days and counting.

Smashed Barriers

When Coach Gerardo told me at the beginning of my training that I wouldn't recognize myself at the end of the year, he wasn't kidding. My first real dose of that came today in the form of a surprisingly fast swimming time-trial.

I broke the two-minute mark in my 1,000-yard TT, averaging 1:58 100s (final time was 19:42).  And it felt great!

I could have swam longer, harder.  Honestly, I never thought I'd break two-minutes.  If there was a podium and a trophy right now, I'd stand up proudly and give a speech.  They really would need a hook and the exit music to yank me off stage.

But the morning didn't end there.  My buddy Dustin joined me for a 45-minute intervals run immediately after the swim at the dazzling lake behind the Calabasas Tennis & Swim center.  The company was welcome and made the time fly that much more.  It's so much better to have a friend to train with -- even if he's slightly annoyed at me for how much this damn sport costs!  (Sorry, dude.  I know!)

Maybe Dustin's presence gave me a boost.  Maybe I finally recovered from the weekend prior.  All I know is that yesterday, I felt sluggish and afraid that I was entering the over-training red-zone.  Today, I was a completely different athlete -- better, stronger, faster.  It's like I smashed through a fitness barrier, real and imagined.

As I sit here typing, I'm not sore in the least.  My spirits are buoyed and I can't wait for my two-hour bike ride tomorrow. I'm actually taking a half-day off work to fit it in.  Another sign that I'm truly becoming an Ironmadman!  Using vacation time to cram in a long ride.

Gerardo was definitely right...I don't recognize myself after three months of training.  I'm an addict!

271 days and counting.

Putting the Try in Triathlon

Today's workouts were supposed to be low-stress and recovery-driven.

I didn't realize that until after I was done with them, courtesy of a gentle reminder from Coach Gerardo.

The order for the day was yoga in the morning and an optional bike spin whenever I could fit it in. Total workout time would be two hours. Which is a lot during a work week, at least for now.

The only way I could juggle the schedule was to take an intermediate flow yoga class that was beyond my comfort zone at 7 a.m. I actually kept up through most of it and really enjoyed the trance-like experience of repeating multiple sequences (plank, cobra, downward dog, repeat, etc.). There was definitely something hypnotic about a rhythmic series of movements shared with several people, though I overlooked the breathing part more than I should have.

Then, we got to inverted poses. Handstands.

The only thing in my world that should be inverted is Maverick when he's pulling Mach 3 with his hair on fire as Russian MiGs try to shoot him out of the sky. Then, and only then, should something or someone be inverted. But certainly not me. And certainly not after I've recently digested a Cliff Bar and a full water bottle.

Then again, there's an interesting analogy here. I spent about 15 minutes just getting comfortable with the idea of spinning my legs upward against a wall, with my arms supporting the rest of my body weight. I only got close a few times to an actual handstand. Once again though, I realized it's the journey that matters. It's the process of trying. It's dealing with the frustration, the fear of falling, the fear of embarrassment. And pushing past that. Through it. Around it. Over it. Beyond it.

I'm sore from the yoga session, but excited to go again and try to make some progress next time. Like my swimming. Or getting on the bike again after crashing.

The deeper I get into this sport, the more I believe it really should be called try-athlon.

301 days and counting.

Group Ride Saturday

In a nice schedule quirk, I'm typing in a relaxed state in the middle of the day, hours after a smooth, 40-mile ride with the Valley Coach team. We wound our way from Calabasas to near Thousand Oaks and back.

I took along my cycling buddy, Frank, who managed to immediately distance himself from the group and launch ahead of the pack. Unfortunately for him, we had two flat tires in the group and Frank found himself alone with several other pelatons riding the same route. This was after Frank was almost ran over by another cyclist from a different club who wasn't paying attention. Note to other cyclists on the road: When you're in a pelaton, how 'bout looking straight ahead on the road and not talking to your friend behind you? Thanks! I was clipped by the offender's handlebar, but fortunately had enough momentum to maintain course on the road and not bump into someone else. Close call though.

The goal of today's ride was to maintain zone 2 heart-rate and not delve into 3-5. I almost complied 100%, but there were a couple times where someone in the group opened up the throttle and I was just a little too curious to see where I stood. Fortunately, for the most part, I'm hanging in there with the fast group just fine. Of course, it's hard to tell since it's not a speed or power workout, but the end result is that I feel good enough to continue working out today if need-be. Since I don't have to though, it's an afternoon of hoops and Modern Warfare 2 co-op with my buddy, TJ.

Today's workout highlight was meeting a new cycling friend, Vinnie (pictured, red shirt/gray vest to my right). He's a fitness coach, which was apparent by his hulking frame. This dude was jacked, and a badass. In fact, he had heart surgery LAST WEEK to fix a "minor" problem. That's some John Wayne stuff right there. After the ride, Vinnie went running! Can you believe that?! I still can't.

Vinnie led the ride today and was very good at making sure everyone had the proper gear and that our bikes were pre-checked before leaving. I caught up with "America's Trainer" (that's his moniker on one of his websites) for the latter part of the ride, where we chatted for at least 20 minutes about fitness, triathlons, how the heart works, nutrition, and how best to brand his many business interests. Though the coolest subject for me was the fact that Vinnie served as Cooper and Peyton Manning's fitness coach at Newman Friends Prep School in New Orleans. Yeah, that Peyton Manning. Vinnie noted that he was surprised that Peyton has taken off the way he has considering he was rather small and unfocused up until the end of middle school heading into high school. Cooper showed more promise, but a bone marrow condition ultimately ended the eldest Manning's career. I'll be looking forward to more conversations with Vinnie in the future, and now we're Facebook buddies.

TJ just got here, so it's time to geek out for a while!

339 days and counting!

Bailed Out

On some days, training takes a back seat. This was one of those days, for a variety of reasons.

I fulfilled my civic commitment on jury duty. Which almost turned into a full trial, but thankfully I was the last prospective juror cut. Apparently, my strong ties to Simi Valley and the law enforcement community there was enough to keep the defense team feeling a little skittish about my ability to remain impartial during police testimony. (I'm sure the prosecution loved me though!) In the end, fate was on my side for being able to keep my vacation schedule intact. The trial didn't conclude until 4:30 p.m. though, so instead of heading home early to catch Thursday night football (go Colts!), I punched the timeclock at the gym. Upper-body weightlifting, followed by an hour on the trainer in heart-rate zones 2-3.

Man, that trainer sure can be hard! I fixed the rubber shaving issue by maintaining a tighter grip between the wheel and the trainer (thanks Dad!). But the resistance on the bike was even greater, so what was supposed to be a big-chain ride was small chain all the way. I still maintained an average HR of 144 during the course of the hour, staying in zone 3 for most of the last 15-20 minutes. And I was literally dripping all over in sweat. Tank top soaked all the way through, complete with a nice puddle under the bike. Yuck, but the best evidence possible of a great workout.

And now, I eat. And then, I shower. And then, I run off to a holiday party. All within 45 minutes.

No time yet to bail out, cool down and rest up. Onward!

Overall, I completed every workout but one this week, so I'm happy. And with the holiday season in full swing, complete with jury duty thrown in, that ain't too bad.

Tomorrow is a rest day. That means more holiday shopping and gift-wrapping (which I'm terrible at). So, instead of battling the trainer, the gym, the pool, or the mountains, I'll be battling fellow chippy and chipper shoppers.

Not sure which is more challenging!

341 days and counting.

Puttin' in the Time

Some training sessions are memorable and remain forever etched in one's mind because of a milestone, a breakthrough, positive encouragement or something special that happened.

This was one of those days where none of the above occurred.

We've all been there though. It's the rule rather than the exception. Just another workout. Nothing spectacular to report. Taken on its own, no progress was made.

Puttin' in the time.

That's the quick summary of my training today. I spun at home on the trainer in the morning, watching Sportscenter to catch up on all the sports I've missed from this demanding training regimen. Once again, I shaved off a good portion of my rear tire. I really need to fix that. And once again, I noticed the dead spot in my pedal stroke during my isolated leg training segments. Need to figure out how to fix that as well. All in due time.

After a long day in the office, I trudged through a weightlifting session for my legs. I made it through the workout of squats, leg extensions, step-ups, calf-raisers, lunges and abs work with enough sweat to know I put in effort, but still thinking I could have pushed it harder. Then again, that's not what this training is about. It's about puttin' in the time, not going hard-core with each workout. I need to constantly tell myself that during training.

I suppose that's the irony from training for an Ironman. The training itself is an endurance test. Not every day can bring an epiphany. Not every day can be memorable.

The trick is to find the zen in the monotony and repetitiveness. The mundane can still be sublime if you open yourself up to that possibility.

343 days and counting.

Hitting the Wall

I've always been taught that G-d laughs at those who make plans.

Once again, I learned how true that statement was.

As you may have read in yesterday's post (OK, all six of you!), I was reinvigorated to finish my week of training strong with a run and swim. I was sure I could do it and motivated for another double workout.

I got through the run OK. Actually, better than expected. Despite the low 50s temperature, I ran in shorts and a hoodie for an hour doing exactly what was prescribed, (mostly) maintaining 22-step left-foot cadence at 15-second intervals on a slightly hilly course. Better still, the course consisted of a .75 mile loop that I lapped 9 times. So I ran close to 6.75 miles in an hour. Definitely much more than expected, and I was pumped.

But when I parked at work and trudged up the stairs towards the gym to shower, I knew the swim was in serious jeopardy.

My legs were heavy. My mind was weary. I was gassed. The week had finally caught up with me.

12 workouts since last Friday. By far the most training I've done in a week, ever. Stick a fork in me.

I was feeling pretty bad about the prospect of ditching a workout and tried to scrounge for enough energy to keep my perfect streak intact. It just didn't happen.

What did happen was a steady procession of food and drink. I couldn't satisfy my hunger. A Cliff bar, Hammer gel, pancakes, eggs, sausage patty, apple, chocolate, and chicken quesadilla weren't enough to keep me feeling fueled and fired up during the day.

So I phoned it in. Coach Gerrardo was understanding and supportive. He mentioned that completing 85-90% of the prescribed workouts in a given week is "very good." Normally, I hate the sound of those words -- "very good." I crave excellence, dammit! "Very good" sounds like a "B" at best. I don't like getting "B's."

But today, "very good" sounded, well, very good.

In fact, it felt like getting an "A."

***

Tomorrow is a rest day, and I will finally get around to writing about the "Shan Clan" -- my two energetic and extremely knowledgeable personal trainers over the past two years, Shannan and Shannon.

348 days and counting.

No Workout? No Problem!

No workout today. Instead, 14 hours of travel, make that five hours of actual air travel from North Carolina to California and nine hours of combined waiting in between.

At one point in my three-hour Dallas layover I tried to run for a bit…from McDonald’s back to the gate. There’s something not quite right about jogging while clutching a bag filled with chicken tenders and that oh-so-sweet barbecue sauce. At least I ditched the fries, right? And hey, I’m sure I was within Zone 1 on the heart-rate.

We were stuck in Dallas (pictured above) because not one but TWO planes were broken. The first had a hydraulic fluid leak and the second was broken yesterday but the problem was allegedly solved earlier today. False. Plane B never left its sad hangar. Fortunately, A) we were in an American Airlines hub destination and lots of other MD-80s were available and B) we were on the ground when we learned of said problems.

On the initial doomed plane, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a very large man occupying the middle seat and spilling onto both seats surrounding him. We’ll call him Jake. To his right, we had a coughing – OK hacking for his life – mullet-wearing man in the window seat who looked like the opening act for the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. Mullet Man, I swear he looked like one of the two Darryls from that Bob Newhart show, was coughing so feverishly that at one point he puked up the water he was trying to drink while calming himself down. That prompted Jake the Fat Man to find another seat, claiming he was too big to ride “bitch.”

At this point, Mullet Man leaned into me and apologized for his wretched coughing. My caring side gave in and I told him not to feel sorry and that I understood his predicament.

Then, Mullet Man told me he had bronchitis.

Then, he patted my shoulder and thanked me for my compassion.

At which point, the lady across the aisle told me that Mullet Man most likely was suffering from Swine Flu. How does she know? Well, she’s a nurse, and she’s heard that phlegm-rattling cough many times lately.

I’ve yet to put together six days straight of training on Coach Gerrardo’s new plan, let alone six straight days of training in two weeks, and now I may be a walking Swine Flu case.

My Ironman training is not off to the zesty start I envisioned. That’s what I get for staying an extra night in North Carolina to watch the Tar Heels play.

One positive note though, which I’m clinging to: Coach Gerrardo texted me last night that the comfortable pace I ran in my 45 minute treadmill jaunt yesterday would be good enough to finish a marathon in 4:20. While that may not seem remarkable on the surface (it’s not!), what’s cool is that if I can bike 112 miles in six hours and swim 2.4 miles in 1:15, I can actually finish my first Ironman in less than 12 hours (barring injury or bonking). That means I’m well within range to meet my 12-hour goal now. Now!? Wow!

I can do this!

Coach Gerrardo’s text was a huge confidence boost, and really the first one I’ve had since registering for Ironman Arizona last Monday. It’s funny that we can sometimes get the greatest benefit from training on days when we’re not really doing anything at all.

This one text message is enough to hold onto on yet another day without a workout, and enough to motivate me to jump out of the covers early tomorrow morning with my running shoes on.

As long as I don’t have Swine Flu.

356 days and counting.