Meet Frank, My Mentor

Do you have a mentor? Not the work kind, but more like a training mentor? Not like Lance Armstrong (though that would be awesome), but more like someone who makes you just a little bit better every time you train.

For me, that person is Frank (pictured). Funnily enough, I work with Frank as well, and I've learned from him inside the office too. Not just about work either, but about everything from how the brain works to Spanish culture and even the history of the Tour de France, among many other topics.

But this isn't a blog about cubicles, meetings, brainstorming, paradigm shifts or any other corporate-sounding crap.

Frank is a fantastic cyclist. He's had the great fortune of growing his skills in the Swiss Alps as well as Austin, Texas. In other words, the dude can climb. And he's not one of these small, gazelle-like climbers that you see wearing the polka-dot jersey in the Tour de France. (No, I'm not saying you're fat, Frank!) I get a special kick out of watching Frank obliterate unsuspecting (and pompous) cyclists up and down the many hills that dot the Malibu Canyon area. They generally have no idea what just passed them.

Each weekend for almost a year now, I've had the privilege of cycling with Frank. He's taught me how to get the most out of my body during long climbs. He's taught me to recognize when my right foot is pointing inward on my pedal stroke. He's taught me to trust my bike more, too, though that went a little too far this past April when I turned my first road bike into a mountain bike as I flew off the road in Santa Susana Pass in Simi Valley. That wasn't Frank's fault though, as I was trying too hard to keep up with someone with 20 years of cycling experience and didn't have enough understanding or appreciation of physics, gravity and the importance of taking a proper line.

Plus, we all know that there are two kinds of cyclists: Those who have crashed and those who haven't crashed yet.

I rode with Frank today on a leisurely but brisk (56 degrees) and windy (cross-winds nearly the whole way) 2:12 stroll from Northridge to Calabasas and back. Details here: http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-states/ca/granada-hills/559126013868457000

I maintained a steady average HR of 129, which was the goal (staying in Zone 2 for at least 50% of the ride). Frank was great about supporting my ride goals and not dropping me, as he can often do. Since I'm a sucker for peer pressure, I really appreciated the assist.

No matter how hard Frank pushes me, he always helps me improve. And no matter how badly he wants to open up the throttle and pedal hard the entire ride, he always holds back and waits for me to catch up.

That's the definition of a teacher. A friend. And a mentor.

***

After my ride, my workout was only half-way complete. I was supposed to swim for 45 minutes at a cadence of 44-45 strokes per minute. I haven't been in a pool for at least two weeks and therefore expected to do much worse.

Turns out that hopping in the pool is kinda like remember how to ride a bicycle.

Despite some general rustiness that might be attributed to ride fatigue or lactic-muscle build-up, the swim was pleasant and rewarding. I typically was in the 43-46 strokes-per-minute range, though I did get down to 39 once by using my legs a lot more. I have a feeling though that's a bad idea come Ironman time. But, I'm sure I'll learn more as I go.

Maybe I need a swimming mentor?

352 days and counting.

Eye of the Tiger

Running toward the Hollywood sign this morning in Bronson Canyon, I had an out-of-body experience.

What do I mean?

I think we've all had one, actually. Have you ever been engrossed in thought or activity when that perfect song comes up on your iPod, XM, Pandora, or even good ol' FM radio? It reflects your mood, your attitude and state of mind in that moment. And the moment becomes illuminated, transformed. Heightened. Intensified. Unforgettable.

It's as if you are watching yourself experience the moment from afar, because you know every nano-second of the experience is being hard-wired into your brain for the rest of your life.

That happened to me this morning, running up one of the steep grades on the way to overlooking cloudy Los Angeles atop the Hollywood sign. It was already a good morning, despite a late start. The weather was crisp, the traffic was light, and despite two back-to-back days of two-a-day workouts (and one late night out), I was feeling fine. Better than fine, even though I think I've got a head cold from Mullet Man.

My heart-rate was at my Zone 3 threshold (roughly 155 bpm) and I was working hard to keep it in check by alternating between jogging and walking.

Then, the theme from "Rocky" popped up on my iPod Nano, right as I was reaching a summit and turning a corner to see the big iconic symbol of Los Angeles peek into view, up close and personal.

The music transformed what would have been a nice moment into something special. Into something powerful. Into a belief that no hill was too high or too challenging. That no challenge couldn't be overcome with enough hard work, sweat, focus, planning and grit.

It was at this moment, alone on a Saturday morning trail run, where I realized that I could become an Ironman.

It's within reach. It's not a fantasy.

Ironman is my Apollo Creed or Clubber Lang, I guess.

And ya know what, "you ain't so bad!"

***

Quick shout-out to my good friend, TJ. He was nice enough to mention that my Ironman journey has helped him think of what his own personal Ironman challenge should be. He's embarking on something big to help his writing career, and I think he'll make it happen.

That's really what this blog is about. If I can help motivate people to think of how they, too, can find their own personal Ironman and accomplish their goals...then I would be incredibly proud and grateful.

I hope you'll join TJ and me.

353 days and counting.

Too Early for 2-a-Days?

I was too tired to blog yesterday.

I can't tell if that's because I was suffering the effects from my 14-hour travel day on Wednesday, which include that tell-tale throat tickle that must have come from Mullet Man. Or, maybe it was the combination early morning run followed by the evening lower body lifting session.

Maybe a little of Column A and a little of Column B?

My goal when I started this blog was to write an entry for every day leading up to Ironman AZ. That lasted less than a week. I will try to do better next time.

Here's the quick summary of yesterday's workouts.

Highlights: Running close to six miles at the prescribed heart rate (below 145) without trouble. (By the way, if you're interested I've attached my initial hear-rate goals until I have a proper field test.) And, being able to maintain Coach Gerrardo's desired cadence of 22 steps with the left foot at 15-second intervals. Weather was crisp and brisk and despite being jet-lagged, the run was pleasant. Dare I say invigorating? Listened to U2's No Line on the Horizon album, which is growing on me several months after the release and one live concert later (Rose Bowl).

Lowlights: Forgetting my running shoes at the gym and having to wear my silver-and-black argyle loafers with my workout gear. I looked like Jeff Spicoli joining the track team. Still managed to get a good session in despite my goofy appearance.

Today, after a relatively (rare) peaceful night's sleep I attended a 7 a.m. spin class at The Ride in Sherman Oaks (http://theridela.com/). The instructor was Lorie Kramme, whom I highly recommend if you're looking to learn and grow from a fellow passionate cyclist. Someone who knows how to really talk you through a visual experience while pushing your aerobic threshold just enough. What I especially enjoyed was her willingness to embrace my need for a specific workout (isolated leg training) and she even incorporated it into the group workout.

In the next hour I'll be conducting the second of my workouts today, upper-body lifting (read: swimming muscles emphasis) at our company gym. I'll be sure to bring my running shoes this time.

***

One quick note: I had the great fortune yesterday of being able to thank the two people responsible for piquing my interest in triathlon. Both live Down Under, as you might expect considering how popular triathlon is in Australia/New Zealand. I was in Auckland for a press trip when I met Dave Hine and Paul Gunn in November 2007, and my life changed ever since. Gents, thanks again for encouraging me to expand beyond my comfort zone. For dreaming big. For getting me off my lazy ass. For making me believe that I could complete a triathlon. And for being supportive of my (exceedingly modest by comparison) accomplishments in the sport.

Paul is one of New Zealand's best triathletes in his age group (35-39). I'm trying to get him to start his own Twitter feed so he can share his experiences with us. Paul was kind enough to invite me to stay with him in January 2011 for the Mount Half Ironman National Long Distance Championships. Even though it will only be a few months after Ironman AZ, I'm considering it.

But that's more than a year from now. Time to hit the gym.

354 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.

ESPN + iTunes + Treadmill = Happy

I woke up at 3:50 a.m. California time to go running today. (Any wonder why this blog is called Ironmadman?)

OK, so it was 6:50 a.m. in Durham, NC, where I'm staying, but tell that to my body. It begged to differ.

Admittedly, the appeal of staying warm and comfy in my bed -- knowing this would be the best sleep I'd have for weeks thanks to Trudy and Bam-Bam -- was almost too great to deny. I was able to persevere though, knowing all too well that I can't afford to ignore Coach Gerrardo's training regimen. Bad habits form easily and especially in moments of weakness. Plus, I'm sure he's curious to see if I can handle a workout schedule even when I'm traveling, and that thought alone was the deciding factor to get up and motivate. If I think I'm letting someone down, I push that much harder not to do so.

So at 4 a.m. PST, I found myself alone in the Doubletree's tiny gym (pictured). It was me, a few treadmills, my iPod and ESPN...really all I needed besides water and a toilet to survive. And guess what? There was a water cooler just a few feet away. Happy.

The schedule called for a 45-minute run within heart-rate Zone 1, which apparently is below 135 for me based on a middle-of-the-night text from Gerrardo, who graciously answered my ignorant question.

I'm really enjoying this new way to train. As I've mentioned, I previously thought that the best way to train was to grind, to outwork myself and everyone else around me by pushing myself harder, farther and faster. I've never been the most athletically gifted (as many of my childhood friends can attest), but I always prided myself on being the "Rudy" of the group...I will out-hustle and outlast everyone else until I win. I don't mind pain if it means victory, and as my buddy TJ would say, "that's that."

So, this new approach to running and cycling, which Coach Gerrardo calls "Light, Slow, Distance" (LSD for short, no joke), is a switch. It doesn't feel like I'm working hard, and that leaves me with a slightly guilty feeling so far. But it also leaves me with more energy to get through the day, and less likely to crash around 3 p.m. like I used to do this past triathlon season. Despite my initial concern about the lack of intensity with this type of training, my workout still produced a four-mile run that burned 400 calories. Not too bad, but certainly not the six-mile, 800-calorie torture session I'm used to. Something tells me this is a little healthier (and wiser).

Tomorrow's workout calls for an hour run in zones 1 & 2, meaning my HR must stay within 150-ish the entire time. Then, I'm supposed to lift for 45 minutes after. Mostly legs and abs. Should be fun, considering I get home from North Carolina in the early evening, California time.

356 days and counting...and training already feels a bit like a part-time job! But it's a job I love.

Oh Carolina...

I'm feeling guilty.

Two days without real training.

Two days of decadent holiday cooking, complete with multiple pieces of homemade pumpkin pie and homemade ice cream. (How can anyone say no to that?!)

Yesterday was my off day, which was hard to maintain considering I was flying today to Raleigh-Durham, NC for a few days of meetings. So I got some push-ups and ab work in but that was about it. Today, I unintentionally got some exercise in because I literally was the last guy on the plane from Burbank to Phoenix this morning on the 6:50 a.m. flight. This is the second time I've cut my flight so close in two weeks...I need to give myself more time to arrive at the airport! Anyway, I sprinted the length of Terminal A with my transition bag doubling as a duffle bag and my laptop and toiletries case under my arm like a football. Thank goodness I'm in good shape...as the doors were closing just as I arrived to the ticket counter. With a little sweet talking and swallowing of pride (admitting I was late for no good reason), I made it onto my regularly scheduled flights.

Speaking of Phoenix, I went to college in Tucson at the University of Arizona. Normally, I love visiting Arizona but this time it was different, even for a 20-minute layover. As the plane descended into Sky Harbor Airport, I realized the next time I may see the Tempe/Phoenix skyline would be a year from now for Ironman Arizona. That thought really humbled me...I was flying into the mouth of the dragon, so to speak. And I felt just a little intimidated even though I have been to the city many times over the years. But not like this, not with this goal in front of me. Will I be ready in a year for this massive trial? The clock is ticking...and I'm not training today and I didn't really train yesterday either.

After a fantastic meal at The Landing in Chapel Hill (ordered the chicken in special xo sauce with pork and shrimp rice), I'm now at the Doubletree Hotel in Durham, NC (pictured), where it's 48 degrees and raining. I miss SoCal already, though the warm chocolate chip cookie waiting for me upon check-in temporarily made it all better (I'm a sucker for chocolate chip cookies, great for training). Fortunately, there's a small pool here and a treadmill, so tomorrow morning I'm waking up early to get a workout in before meetings begin at 9. I can't wait. Every day I don't train feels like added minutes to my final Ironman time...or like I'm chipping away the percentages for even finishing the race.

Am I the only one who gets this neurotic about training?

According to Gerrardo's training calendar schedule, I'm supposed to run for 45 minutes tomorrow at Zone 1 HR. I'm not even sure where Zone 1 ends and Zone 2 starts! Well, I guess I'll figure it out. I'm going to guess I should keep my HR below 120.

Going to bed now.

357 days and counting.

PS: If you're going to be at the NC-Michigan State game tomorrow night, let me now via @theironmadman. I scored two tickets thanks to my amazing work colleagues!

Day Off?

I'm happy to report that I woke up feeling refreshed and not too sore after yesterday's long run. And I was so tired, I fell asleep during the third quarter of the USC-UCLA game, stumbled to bed and didn't wake up until 8:15 this morning.

It's deceptive, this heart-rate training. One one hand, I feel great and like I could work out again today with not too much trouble. On the other, my body was obviously spent and got a great workout.

Initial lessons learned from first trail run:
-- I need trail-running shoes. Apparently, there's a big difference between the two. All I know is that my plantar fasciaitis is acting up on the balls of both feet.

-- Trail running affects muscles that street running doesn't. My hips and glutes, along with my hamstrings, are tight this morning.

-- Stop and look up every once in a while -- even though it's a dangerous proposition because of the uneven terrain. It's important to capture those fleeting moments of awe where you can truly stop and enjoy the journey of the Ironman and temporarily forget about the destination.

-- Stretch! If I hadn't taken time to stretch with fellow ValleyCoach athletes Rosa and her sister Dina, this morning might have been a lot worse. Those extra 10 minutes can make all the difference.

Today, not much on the docket. I'm going on a business trip for the next few days though, which will make training difficult. So I may sneak in a light run this afternoon or evening. Possibly even a yoga class, which would be a very good call methinks. Until then, it's football, food and possibly some holiday shopping (get it checked off the list quick!).

358 days and counting.

Freshman, Triathlon Tech University

Waking up this morning sucked. And it wasn't even before 7!

Quick note: I've got the Upstairs Neighbors from Hell. You'll be hearing about the inconsiderate mother and her 3-year-old son from time-to-time, like now, for instance. I'll call the mom "Trudy" and the son "Bam-Bam." Imagine hearing an earthquake directly above your head any time between 5:30-7:30 a.m. and it continuing intermittently throughout the day until 9:30 p.m. 24/7/365. Yep, that's my life. Which is a blessing and a curse since A) it gets me out of bed early to train but B) I'm constantly suffering from a lack of quality rest, evidenced typically by puffy raccoon eyes.

This morning was no different, although I tried a new tactic where I slept on the couch in my living room to avoid the usual bedroom barrage. That bought me until 6:30...when Bam-Bam ran full-steam into the living room and sailed across the floor in his tricycle. "FML," as they say.

Needless to say, I wasn't my usual energetic self when I put my car in auto-pilot and headed to Old Agoura and the Cheseboro Park trails off, well, Cheseboro. I met up with my coach, Gerrardo (pictured), and my fellow teammates -- most of whom I was meeting for the first time. It felt like the first day of school, except for once I was starring as the strange new kid.

We were to run 10-12 miles, which I hadn't done since the Agoura Half-Marathon in March 2008. The most I had run since then was nine miles, and that was just last week in Central Park (Reservoir loop 4tw!). But here was the catch, we were going to run at a 10:00 pace and keep our heart rates below 150bpm. And, we were trail running, which I hadn't really done before to this degree. Nevertheless, it seemed easy enough, I figured, as I have been used to training the old-fashioned way: Progressively killing myself a bit more with each workout until my body demanded a rest day. Apparently, that's not the best way to train. Wish I had gotten that memo sooner.

I started off fine for the first few miles. Heart rate was low and I was keeping up with this seasoned group of triathletes that included prior Ironman finishers and a pair of speedy sprinting sisters. I even had the audacity to remark that this was the easiest run I had ever been on.

Whoops.

Gradually, Gerrardo and gang pulled away. It seems that their speed at 150bpm is slightly greater than mine. By a wide margin. But I kept at it, meandering alone (about a minute behind) through the cold, dusty hills that still manage to showcase their beauty despite being the highest brush fire hazard imaginable.

My tardiness turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I entered a creekbed to find a deer and her little Bambi grazing quietly about 20 yards away. Mama deer and I locked eyes and had a brief staring contest before Mama realized I wasn't worth paying further attention to. She went on with her meal and I continued my steady-as-she-goes jaunt.

While this was the high point of my morning, a moment of Zen amidst about two-and-a-half hours of peaceful contemplation, the low point occurred 80% through the run when I failed my first test administered by Professor Gerrardo. After 9.5 miles, we came to a literal fork in the road, at which point I was given the option of heading back to the car with a respectable 10 miles under my belt, or sucking it up for 2.5 more miles to make it an even 12.

I may have been sore, but my heart rate was holding between 149-152 and I had more in the tank. I wanted to show these folks they weren't dealing with a softie. I wasn't a total noob.

Wrong answer.

The final stretch was almost entirely uphill, to the point where I had to walk most of it to keep my HR in Zone 2. When we reached the top of the first crest, I called out to Gerrardo and playfully chided him for not telling me about the ascents. To which he responded, "that's because you failed your first test of triathlon training: peer pressure."

And so, on my first official run with the ValleyCoach.com crew, I was taken to school.

I'm now a true freshman at Triathlon Tech University, and a victim of some light-hearted hazing.

But I ran two more miles than expected, and although the back of my left knee is sore and I've got a blister or two on my toes, I'm in good spirits.

Hazing never felt better.

359 days and counting.

It Begins

It is Friday night. It's 10:11 p.m. I'm in my bed, blogging. Most people are getting ready to go out for a night on the town. I'm 35 and not yet married, living 20 minutes from Hollywood. I should probably be doing the same.

Instead, I'm on the verge of sleep so I can get up early tomorrow to run 10-12 miles. After cycling 50 today from Agoura to Malibu by way of Westlake, Newbury Park, and PCH (where the image above was taken by fellow triathlete and all-around fantastic human being, Anat). After cycling 20 yesterday, on Thanksgiving, and cross training with my personal trainer and friend, Shannon, the day before that.

It's all with a bigger goal in mind. One in particular. What business author Tom Peters calls a Big, Hairy, Audacious Goal, or B.H.A.G.

Ironman.

Just typing those words makes my stomach churn just a bit. I was one of the lucky (crazy?) folks able to register for Ironman Arizona 2010 before it sold out in 25 minutes. And since this past Monday at 11 a.m. Pacific time, I've been wondering if I made the right decision.

I thought I was in good shape, until Wednesday night. That's when I met Gerrardo, my new triathlon coach. I've competed in seven triathlons so far, including three Olympic distance events. I typically finish as high as top 10% to 50% of the field. I train six days a week, up to 10-12 hours per week. But Gerrardo indicated that my training will need to increase substantially over the next year, as in closer to 20 hours a week by this summer. And, I'll need a new triathlon bike as well...this after I bought a 2008 Colnago Extreme Power earlier this year thinking it would be the last bike I'd ever have to buy. Fail.

(Nobody told me in advance that this sport is such a money pit!)

Yet I can't get enough. I'm compelled to rise out of bed early each morning to push myself harder than the day before, just by a little bit. But I often do it by myself, running lonely streets, swimming solitary laps and going on long bike rides with a handful of training partners.

That's where I hope you come in. Am I doing this alone? Am I the lone Iron(mad)man out there? Am I the only one wondering every morning "Why the hell am I getting out of a perfectly warm bed to beat myself up before (and sometimes after) work?"

I'm looking forward to chronicling this journey towards Ironman 2010. I want to capture those lonely training sessions, the quiet milestones checked off the list, the tune-up events, the lapses and maybe even a podium finish (or two?). I want to have something tangible at the end of the finish line on November 21, 2010 besides the obvious finishers medal, jersey, photos, etc.

I want to relive the memories one day. I want to show my kids (when I have them!) what can be accomplished if you put your mind, body and spirit into something that seems impossible. A B.H.A.G. I hope I inspire others to accomplish their own big-ass goals. And I want to share the experience with anyone who might be mad enough to come along for the ride.

I'm Ryan Schneider. I'm the Iron(mad)man...in training.

360 days and counting.

PS: I'm waiting for a more official website to be built, so this will be my temporary home until then. I'll keep y'all posted with details. I also have a nifty logo that I'll be sharing shortly, thanks to my buddy and amazing web developer/user experience guru, Ward.