Meet the Shan Clan!

Unless you're totally insane, you don't just wake up one day and decide that you can do an Ironman within a year.

You need some prior experience. A foundation.

The "Shan Clan" built my foundation.

In 2007, I was a little overweight. I was out of shape. I wasn't very happy with myself.

Shannan Lynch (pictured, left) turned all that around. Shannan runs the gym in my office building complex. But Shannan isn't just a manager. She's got degrees in virtually every relevant subject for fitness and nutrition. She's trained professional athletes and celebrities. And she's probably the fastest girl I've ever known, routinely earning podium finishes in any kind of running event she enters.

Over the course of nearly two years, Shannan whipped me into shape and changed my nutrition habits. She used a variety of equipment and training regimens to do so. Everything from traditional dumbells, barbells, balance boards and Bosu balls to resistance bands and step platforms. And no two workouts were exactly alike, so Shannan managed to keep me mentally engaged while my muscles were constantly worked in new ways during our twice-a-week sessions.

Thanks to Shannan, I went from barely being able to run a 5k to completing my first triathlon. I also dropped 20 pounds.

Then, in early 2009, Shannan changed responsibilities and became more of a full-time fitness center manager. My training didn't skip a beat though because of another Shan...Shannon Flanagan.

Shannon and I have a great time training together, and she's every bit of a badass as Shannan (I'd like to see them race in a 100-yard dash!). She's a heck of a spin class instructor too! Shannon puts me through my paces, doesn't let me whine (too much) and we're pretty much always laughing. Our weekly training sessions are among my personal highlights for the week. More important, my event results improved steadily throughout 2009, and Shannon was very in-tune with helping me modify the workouts to maximize performance during triathlon season.

The "Shan Clan" has put me in a position to go after the Ironman. I can't thank them enough.

***

Today was my off-day. It came at the right time. A hot bath, 10.5 hours sleep and a day of no physical activity later, I'm ready for action tomorrow.

Depending on the severity of the rain, it's either a morning bike ride and a swim to follow, or a swim and spin if it's stormy. Looking forward to both.

347 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.

The Difference Between a Good & Great Coach

When I think of successful coaches, I visualize sideline leaders who ooze charisma, bark orders, and demand excellence.

Vince Lombardi. Pete Carroll. Pat Riley (sorry, I'm a Lakers die-hard). Gene Hackman's character from "Hoosiers."

All these attributes point to one-way communication. A leader speaking or dictating to his/her followers. I was reminded this morning there's another quality that separates a great coach from a good one: A good listener.

I was feeling a little deflated after my morning spin at home proved to be deceptively difficult. I couldn't understand why 45 minutes of riding on my trainer in the big chain would be so much more sweat-inducing than when I'm actually cycling on the road. Besides literally spinning my wheels, was I metaphorically doing the same? Worse yet, was I regressing? Were the multiple two-a-day sessions catching up with me?

When I arrived into work, I already had an email waiting in my inbox from Coach Gerrardo. Not only was he reading my blog (thank goodness someone else is!), but he wrote to offer some perspective after reading last night's Into the Wild post. Gerrardo reminded me that we're primarily training for the LA Marathon right now and not to worry too much about Ironman for the moment. In other words, don't get lost in the forest amidst the trees (if you read the Into the Wild post, this is a particularly fitting analogy). He also mentioned it's OK to cut a few workouts short. It's more important to have fuel in the tank at the end while putting in a bit less work than hitting a wall but finishing the workout.

Gerrardo's words were exactly what I needed to hear. I felt refreshed and energized for my lunchtime lifting session (upper body: lats, chest, shoulders, abs).

Gerrardo's desire and ability to listen made a difference in my mental outlook -- which is vulnerable at these early stages of training. It also reinforced that I made the right decision choosing Valley Coach over some of the other reputable coaching options online and throughout the Southland.

Tomorrow, I plan to blog about another pair of coaches, Shannon and Shannan. Were it not for them, I wouldn't even be able to consider an Ironman. Before I do though, I've got an hour of running and 2,700 yards to swim.

I'm ready for it. Thanks to a great coach.

349 days and counting.

Into the Wild

Day Four of two-a-day sessions. I'm starting to feel the burn.

The backs of my knees are tight, as are my glutes. But I'm sleeping really well at night, despite Trudy and Bam-Bam's best efforts.

This morning started off strong. I was supposed to run outside for 45 minutes doing cadence drills and skipping. But, it was 43 degrees (though the sky was crystal clear blue) and I was having none of that. Still, I completed the workout in the office campus gym's wood-floored dance/yoga room and on the treadmill. The session consisted of six, 30 left-foot steps in 19-20-second inverals followed by 60 skips (30 each leg) and a Zone 1 treadmill cool-down. Aside from looking like a complete ass (why should this day be any different?!), the session was more challenging than I expected. But I felt pretty solid at the end.

The session's highlight came via my iPod when I rediscovered one of my favorite inspirational songs from the past couple years: "Big Hard Sun" by Eddie Vedder from the Into the Wild soundtrack. (BTW, I highly recommend reading the book. It's a quick, powerful read that straddles the essence of purity of purpose and utter insanity. Not too far off from training for an Ironman, I suppose.)

It was the perfect song for today. Cold. Alone. Passionate. Silent. Strong. I listened to it at least five times in a row.

The second workout occurred today at 5 p.m. I'm lucky to have a job that is both supportive of my personal goals and respectful of work-life balance. I was able to duck out of the office and head to the YMCA-Burbank to check out their indoor pool. I knew I'd make it back into work to make up the hours, and the pool closed at 6. Win-win scenario.

The problem with the Y's Burbank pool is that it's only 20 yards long, so you have to re-calibrate your regimen. For instance, you have to remember that 100 yards is five laps instead of the usual four. Given that I'm not the best at math and that I was running short on time, I missed the prescribed 2,600 yards of swimming by roughly 600 yards. Still, I swam a mile and accomplished most of the workout. Here was the breakout:

-- 200 yard warm-up (supposed to do 300)
-- 4 x 100 yards easy swim (skip)
-- 4 x 150 yard kick, drill, swim (check)
-- 3 x 200 yards moderate swim (check)
-- 8 x 50 yards fast (check)
-- 200 easy swim cool-down (supposed to do 300)

Man, was I hungry after! Killed an entire Baja Fresh Burrito Mexicano and probably will have a protein shake when I get home from the office, where I'm writing this entry after wrapping up the day's work.

And then I get to do another double tomorrow. Spin and upper body lifting.

Right now that sounds about as fun as getting lost in the wilderness with no way out.

Then again, after less than two weeks into my Ironman training, that's sort of how I feel already.

I'm clearly deep into the wild.

350 days and counting.

You Spin Me Right Round...

Break out your violins, people, because I'm about to whine about the weather in SoCal.

It's cold out. It's raining. Wah.

Fortunately, my third day of two-a-day workouts consisted of two indoor sessions: 45 minutes of lower-body lifting (squats, leg extensions, lunges, step-ups, calf-raisers and abs work) and one hour of spinning.

I've never been happier to be indoors working out, primarily because I used a bike trainer for the first time. I caught up with friends on the phone, watched a little Monday Night Football (Go Packers!), completed my isolated leg training and still kept cadence upwards of 92 consistently. While my heart-rate stayed consistently within 130, I was surprised by how deceptively hard the workout was. I'm not sure why. Can anyone explain? I was in small chain in a smaller gear and it still felt like a fair amount of resistance. Not that I'm complaining... I've already used up my crybaby factor on the weather, remember?

I think my trainer is about to become my new best friend. Tonight alone it saved me from spending $16 on a single spin class session. And with the costs associated with this sport, I'll save a buck wherever I can!

***

Couple highlights to share from today:

-- Three-time world Ironman champion Chrissie Wellington (@ChrissieIrorman) is following me (@theironmadman) on Twitter. That was so cool, and she even replied back to me when I said thanks for the follow.

-- KNBC-TV (Channel 4) anchorman and Ironman Arizona 2009 finisher Chris Schauble (@chrisschauble) is also following me on Twitter. He's back training again after a very successful event. In fact, Chris ran four miles in the rain today. Hard-core!

-- A rainbow appeared outside my office window today literally for two minutes. All the folks at that end of the building rushed outside to see it. It was kind of funny to see a bunch of grown men get excited by a rainbow. But that's exactly what happened. Cool!

Gotta get to bed. Another double workout session tomorrow. Next up: Run and swim.

351 days and counting.

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.