Mellow Monday

There are workout days like yesterday, where I swam, ran and practiced yoga practically back-to-back-to-back. Then there are workout days like today, where I enjoyed an easy yoga session at the end of a long day.

Sweet!

Even sweeter was Stephanie joining me at Black Dog Yoga tonight for class and sushi after.  Since we've been engaged, our schedules have been so packed that we rarely spend quality "date" time together during the week.  Tonight was a welcome exception.  Except it makes it harder when you're trying to suppress a yoga fart in class!  (Fortunately, I concealed my gas.)

And so begins my taper to Wildflower.  Counting this evening's mellow pseudo-workout, I've got six days until the big race.  Including the race itself I've got six hours of training this week.  Six!  That's at least half my normal training load.  Since I'm healthy this time (unlikely the LA Marathon), I'm not sure what to do with myself.  I'm almost giddy with the extra free time.

Tomorrow I've got the Fortius swim at 6 a.m., followed by a 45-minute spin on the trainer. I can handle that!  Let's see if this taper thing works when I'm healthy.

212 days and counting.

Just Another Manic Sunday

So how was my Sunday? Swimming and running and yoga, oh my!

Followed by a special dinner in Newport Beach with Stephanie's family celebrating Mr. Van Schaik's 63rd birthday.

Just got home. Absolutely exhausted! Non-stop action from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. will do that.

But it really was a great day. It started off with my longest ocean swim ever, a 1.5-plus mile jaunt in Marina del Rey with my Fortius Teammates and the LA Tri Club.  I was surprised at how easy the duration of the swim was, though I wasn't pushing hard.  Richard and I stopped a few times to chat, spot our pier marker and look or other swimmers around us.  Coach Gerardo even made a cameo swimming with us, still basking in his rightfully deserved glow of a 3:15 Boston Marathon time last Monday.

After the swim, it was time to run for an hour.  Most of the group was going to eat breakfast but I needed to fit my workout in since we had plans this evening.  My Fortius teammate, Paul, joined me for the run or I would have been on my own.  Paul is competing in his first full Ironman, St. George, this coming Saturday, along with our teammates Lisa and Christina.  We talked a lot about his thoughts going into St. George.  His preparation.  His mental state.  His goals.  What's next.

It's funny, but even though I'm not competing this coming weekend in St. George, a piece of me will be there.  Only I and and a few others really know the hard work that Paul, Lisa and Christina have invested in this massive achievement.  And while each of them fully deserve the accolades that come with competing an Ironman, a small part of me feels like I'm attached to the experience too.  Like a bench player on a basketball team that never sees actual game time but knows his contributions in practice make the starters -- those who do actually play -- better.

I capped off the training portion of my day with a 1.5 hour restorative yoga session at Black Dog.  The deep stretches, especially in my shoulders and hips, hurt and softened me in the best possible way.  I'm returning again tomorrow night for a 7 p.m. session, along with Steph.  The rest of my training week is quite light in preparation for Wildflower.  Ah, Wildflower...I had forgotten about you for a few days.  Let's hope this taper goes better than my LA Marathon training.

G'night all.

213 days and counting.

Let My Freedom Go!

Today is the second day of Passover, the Jewish holiday where we commemorate the Jews' exodus from Egypt and recall how special it is to be free of persecution.  We drink lots of wine (four glasses during the traditional Seder), sing songs, and offer prayers of gratitude.  Not to mention eat a metric ton of food and desserts that camp out in our bowels for about a week.  That may partially explain why the Seder mandates we recline more deeply during the service as a measure of our ability to enjoy ourselves to the fullest at that moment in time. We simply can't move after the meal!  So we might as well get comfortable!

Passover coincides nicely with my quick return to Ironman training.  Of course, this is ironic because I feel like I'm losing my freedom again just a bit, especially after my past week of decadence. My body is protesting ever so slightly too, as in refusing to wake up this morning in time for the Fortius team 6 a.m. swim.  I looked at the clock at 5:20, quickly deciding "uh-uh" before turning my alarm off for another hour's rest.  Going from eight to nine hours of sleep for a week back down to six just wasn't going to happen the morning after a massive food coma.

My extra snooze time paid off though, as I arrived to the pool around 7:45 a.m. to find Coach Gerardo along with swim instructor, neighbor and friend Megan training in a nearby lane.  OK, I didn't really see them at first and trained on my own for about 30 minutes with drills while racking up a pretty pedestrian 1,000 yards.

But the next 30 minutes, I was lucky enough to receive intensive instruction from Gerardo and Megan on all the things wrong with my swim technique.

Folks, there's a lot.  Too much to recite here.  Probably too much for a 30 minute session.  Let me put it to you this way, if I could start over and learn how to swim from scratch, I would.  I think I pretty much suck at swimming at this point.

Fortunately, Gerardo and Megan are not Egyptian taskmasters when it comes to their coaching.  They patiently showed me that once again, I'm not extending my arms fully before entering the water, and that I'm just not relaxed enough -- which translates to wasted energy.

It took several laps and frustration before I experienced any modicum of progress, but by the end of my workout Gerardo said I was getting the hang of it.  I was keeping my elbow higher longer through the stroke, dragging my fingertips out of the water longer before entering at the last possible point in the stroke. And I was shifting my weight from side to side better, using my hips more effectively.

I thought, "Cool, if you say so."

I'll just keep practicing.  Honestly, I've never felt more like a fish out of water in the water.  Swimming is practically like one of Pharaoh's 10 plagues at this point, as in people feel sick after watching me swim!

During lunch, I participated in a yoga class at our work gym.  One big thing I noticed during my practice was how tight I had become just with one week of inactivity.  The body really does operate like a well-oiled machine, and when that machine isn't being used -- rust sets in. Probably faster the older one gets.

Joy.  Not only am I a slave to a schedule, but I'm a slave to my own body.

Which makes me wonder: Am I my own worst taskmaster?

Wait, don't answer that.

238 days and counting.

Achey Breaky Body

From the neck down, I'm starting to feel better. I broke my fever in the wee hours of the morning -- no, I didn't feel the earthquake -- and my foot has been pain-free for two days now. From the neck up, I'm a mess.  My neck and shoulder muscles are tight to the point that I can't look past 90 degrees on either side.  My throat feels like it's embedded with glass shards that tear at anything approaching solid food.  I know because I couldn't take soup anymore today (after two pints from Canter's and one large serving from Dupar's) and ventured out for a Subway sandwich and later on, a burger.  Caloric intake temporarily overtook sensibility.

I spoke with Coach Gerardo late this evening to get a sense of my chances for the LA Marathon.  He still thinks this sort of thing is very normal and explained why.  Apparently when the taper phase occurs shortly before an important race, the body is tricked into thinking that it's OK to shut down and repair itself.  Therefore, your immune system is more susceptible to illness.  Further, pre-race illness is a symptom of the beginning phases of over-training.  Those factors, coupled with my trip to San Francisco and attending a convention contributed to my downfall.

It makes so much sense, but that doesn't make this any less frustrating. I've worked too hard to come this far and be denied a kick-ass marathon.  Won't.  Happen. Period.

One positive indication of my recovery came via an hour of yoga from home using a DVD that Stephanie loaned.  Yesterday, I didn't have an ounce of energy to even move around the house.  Today was different.  Better.  Progress.  Once again, solitary yoga turned out to be so much more productive than a group session.  I was able to focus on purely nasal breathing the entire time, along with focusing exclusively on form and not what others in the class were doing and how they looked by comparison.  Despite my kvetching about my neck, all other body parts seem to be getting back to normal.  That is encouraging.  And with my massage tomorrow with Abby, I'm hopeful she can push me over the top.

We'll see how tomorrow goes.  For now, it's time to get some more rest.  Apparently 12 hours and an hour nap today weren't enough.

252 days and counting.

Thank YOU For Your Support

One of my favorite TV commercials when I was a kid featured two old farmer-looking guys talking about their small wine cooler company, Bartles & Jaymes.  They always ended every ad the same way, "...and thank you for your support." It has stuck with me for some reason, beyond just being an advertising junkie.  These people (probably actors) were thanking me for supporting something that would have been illegal for me (I was 14!), yet they were "sincere" in making me feel like I was a part of their success.  I found that touching even though I couldn't articulate why at the time.

That is exactly how I feel about participating in the sport of triathlon.

While the journey to Ironman Arizona has been mine, it certainly hasn't been mine alone.  Family, friends both old and new (yay Fortius Coaching and Twitter!) and a fantastic girlfriend have enabled me to reach a new level of joy that simply wasn't attainable training alone.  This past weekend competing at the Desert Triathlon in Palm Desert exemplified what it means to have a deep and strong support network.  First, the outpouring of encouragement and understanding when I announced my relationship with Stephanie was deeply touching.  I've never received more comments on my Facebook page or my blog. Then, the on-site race support.  So inspiring given the tough weather.  People rallied even harder to cheer their friends on.  And of course, following the race at Las Casuelas Mexican restaurant.  What a great time!

Friends, new and old, in person or virtually speaking, thank you for your support.

Yesterday following the race, I wrote about my somewhat disappointing swim/bike times that were outweighed by the happiness I felt after my most enjoyable triathlon event in my nascent "career."  The volume of Twitter replies and explanations for what may have happened during the race and why was helpful.  For example, my new friend Dan told me to re-calibrate my times using a different triathlon pace converter.  Turns out I was only :10 off my new T-pace, much closer to my 2:05 original T-pace from a couple months ago.  Further, I was only 1 mph off my normal T-pace on the bike instead of 3 mph.  That makes a huge difference in my performance psyche.

Twitter friends, thank you for your support.

Tonight, I enjoyed a recovery yoga class with the Fortius Coaching team at Topham Street Gym in Reseda.  Despite our hectic work days, nearly all of us made it to the class. There's something special about knowing we're all in this together.  That no matter how busy we are in our "regular" lives, we depend on each other in an odd way to simply "be there" at events like this.  When it's a busy Monday night.  When we have other things to do, like packing for a four-day business trip that begins tomorrow, for example.  When it's easy to pack it in, in this case literally, and skip the workout.  We are accountable to each other, whether we know it or not.

Team Fortius, thank you for your support.

Tomorrow begins my longest business trip of the year.  I'll be gone starting tomorrow, returning Friday afternoon.  (I'm definitely blogging though, so stay tuned for the Ironmadman... LIVE from San Francisco!) Fortunately, I'm tapering for the LA Marathon so I won't miss that many workouts.  I'm even more fortunate though that I'll be meeting some friends for group runs during the mornings of the convention I'm attending.  Dedicated people like myself.  Eager to find time amidst the chaos to take care of themselves.  Helping me take care of myself.

Thank you for your support.

260 days and counting.

Less is More

Six-thirty this morning came and went uneventfully. Just what I wanted.  Cool sheets, warm blankets and fluffy pillows rarely felt better.

Thanks, Trudy.  Thanks, Bam-Bam.

Frankly, I needed a break.  A rest.  A pitstop.  Time to cool the jets, if only for an extra hour's sleep.

It really paid off.  When I finally removed myself from the comfort of my bed (for a change not shoved out by Trudy and Bam-Bam's pounding) around 8, I felt refreshed.  Re-energized.  Re-engaged.

Ready for the day, and the rest of this week's training.  I didn't really miss much, 45 minutes of one-legged spinning drills on the trainer.  Coach Gerardo has told me in the past I can essentially skip one workout a week and still hit my goals, so I cashed in that check today.

So worth it!  The extra time relaxing in the morning, enjoying a rush-free breakfast, starting to program my Garmin, was worth more than the physical workout.  The mental rest that came with it far outweighed any incremental physical benefit I may have attained.

To top it off, I took a yoga class at lunch in our work gym.  The workout wasn't great -- the room was cold, the lights were bright and the music was a bit too loud -- but the experience of collecting my thoughts and breath for an hour cancelled all that out.  And my stressed muscles desperately needed a mellow stretching session.  Though this yoga class required more stopping for Child's Pose than I'm used to. No biggie though.

What a relaxing day.  Now, I'm ready for the rest of the week's training, which tomorrow consists of a tempo brick and culminates this weekend with a 20-mile street run.

Sometimes, less is truly more.  A light day of training will pay big dividends in the coming days.  I'm fired up.

273 days and counting.

Recover Right

I've been told that it typically takes two days after participating in a rigorous sporting event before your body feels the strain from doing so. If that's the case, then I'm pretty pleased with how I felt today during training.  After completing a half-marathon in a personal-best time this past Sunday, I've been waiting for the recovery hammer to drop on my body.  To say I'm not sore would be a lie.  However, in the past 48 hours I've completed a spin session on the trainer, a yoga class, an hour of cadence swimming this morning followed by an hour run (20 minutes of zone 3 heart-rate) during lunch.

Even though I'm really tired at this very moment, I feel surprisingly good overall!

In the past, I've needed "Vitamin I", Ibuprofen, ice bags for my outer knees and IT bands, and a long nap.  That was just immediately following the race.  The day or two after that... forget about it.  Definitely no training the day after.  Maybe something light the day after that. Maybe.

I've been finding many parallels lately between recovering from a break-up and training for an Ironman.  Today is no different: Even though I may be sore or in some kind of pain, I'll actually feel better by pedaling, swimming or running through it -- without forcing the issue -- instead of letting myself atrophy until the pain subsides.

It's the difference between an active recovery -- aggressively engaging in overcoming the problem -- and a passive one where the problem overcomes you.  One leaves you feeling replenished, the other leaves you feeling empty.  One empowers, the other weakens.  One rebuilds, the other debilitates.

Maybe that's why tomorrow night, for the first time in several weeks, I'm actually looking forward to a quiet night at home.  I haven't spent one here without having plans earlier in the evening in about six weeks.  It's time.

It's the next step in the recovery process.

287 days and counting.

Upside Down

I've become a hippie. At least my friend Caitlin thinks so.

I tried to protest with her on the phone tonight, but the following are acknowledged facts:

I practice yoga.

I shop at Whole Foods.

I'm in touch with my feelings.

When running, I now prefer the rhythm of my breathing to actual music.

I have vegan products in my condo. (sitting next to leftover steak, so that's kind of a wash...)

I voted for Obama.

This from a kid who grew up in Reagan country, Simi Valley.  Not exactly a liberal stronghold.

The entire reason this discussion occurred was because I successfully executed my first headstand in yoga class tonight, which I proudly shared with Caitlin (an aspiring yoga instructor). My triumph happened in a class with a format I've never tried before: Anasura yoga.  Although I needed a wall to do it, I managed to kick up and hold the headstand pose with my hands interlaced behind my head for support.  It was a bit scary -- I'd like to avoid paralyzing myself if at all possible -- and exhilarating (maybe that was just the sensation of blood rushing to my head) all at the same time.

In the brief few seconds I was able to focus on something besides not toppling down the wall like a busted Jenga puzzle, I realized how different the room looked being upside down.  Lights seemed brighter.  People were harder to distinguish from one another.  That dude in the corner was working out with no shirt on (c'mon man, seriously?).

I also realized this might be the first time in my life where I was truly ecstatic about everything being turned upside down.  (I'm not much of a roller coaster guy.)

Considering the topsy-turvy nature of the past several weeks, this was an especially welcome insight.  In order to see and appreciate the world differently, sometimes we have to shake things up dramatically.  Sometimes we have to turn something on its head, in this case literally, to gain a different vantage point.  Painful as it might be, it's a part of the growing process.

A lesson learned only by extending beyond my comfort zone.  Even if I needed a wall for support.

Don't we all though?

288 days and counting.

Meditative State

With Ironman training, I've grown accustomed to doing certain workouts at home.  Cycling on the trainer and abs work immediately come to mind.

Today, I add yoga to the list.

Once again, the physical exercise took a back seat to the mental benefits associated with it.  At first, I felt awkward.  A little "granola", to be honest.  After returning home from work and getting settled, I turned down the lights low in my bedroom, sat cross-legged and allowed myself a few moments to sink deep within to reflect upon a long week.  A trying week.  A week filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions.  Then, I let out a few heavy "ohm" chants, carefully monitoring my breath pattern to dispense of every last ounce of stress.

Within minutes, I was relaxed, focused and completely centered.  I'm still surprised at how easy it was to find my metaphysical core.  Why do we stray so far from ourselves so unnecessarily?  Previously, to reach a zen-like state, I believed you needed a yoga studio complete with sitar music, Buddha statues, lots of props and of course other people.  This was different.  Quiet.  Peaceful.  Solitary.  And completely self-contained.  I found it easier to remove any semblance of self-consciousness or ego and instead could truly focus on my breathing.  There was nobody to compare myself to, or worry about when the instructor was going to come by and make an adjustment.

I was both student and instructor.  Patient and doctor.

Granted, this was only a 30-minute session.  I mostly focused on sun salutes, downward dog, cobra, plank, warrior and pigeon poses, followed by some foam-core rolling at the end.

The result was a sense of wholeness and rejuvenation unlike I've experienced heading into a weekend in quite a long time.  I set my intention for the week to more fully accept the hurt and loss that I'm feeling and to quit worrying so much about being macho and "toughing it out."

When I looked at my scheduled at the beginning of the week, I figured today's yoga workout would be the first one I'd be able to skip if I ran short on time.

Looking back, it was the most important thing I did all week.  Thirty minutes out of 10,080 re-aligned my entire outlook.

Namaste.

291 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.