A Fun Day's Night

It's 11 p.m. Usually, I'm exhausted and sleeping already.

Not tonight! It's been a really good day, which started with a rather harrowing (and chilly!) bike ride through Balboa Park (so much for my new "Wind Stopper" Castelli full-fingered gloves). I had a tempo ride for an hour, with a larger gear than normal while maintaining 80-90 cadence. The tempo wasn't the problem, but traffic was. The hardest part of the ride was avoiding cars and trucks mindlessly rushing to work, and slowing down while trying to keep my heart-rate in zone 3 (142-154 bpm). I may need to find a new tempo cycling route, so if someone reading this knows of anything, holla.

Then, I became one of those rushing vehicles on the way to work, barely making it on time. The work day went by quickly, highlighted by my first team meeting of the year. I can honestly say it was fantastic having the group together again, and we collectively enjoyed a productive goal-setting session. I can't wait to get movin' on what we have in store for this year, which truly felt like a collaborative effort. It's especially invigorating when everyone buys into your vision and is excited by it.

Following work, I rushed from Burbank to Venice for a seminar about vegan nutrition and the importance of a plant-based diet when training for endurance events.

On the way, I annihilated a Baja Fresh "Burrito Mexicano"... with lots of chicken.

It was delicious.

The seminar, by pro triathlete and author Brendan Brazier (known for his book, Thrive: The Vegan Nutrition Guide), was primarily about dismissing the notion that "calories out, calories in" is an effective way to replenish nutrients. It can have the opposite effect, Brazier notes, because some foods take longer to process, can elevate stress and force your body to work even harder than it needs.

Enter Brazier's own unique line of vegan-based supplements, Vega. He says they can reduce recovery time between workouts, which is the key to increasing training results.

Like a sucker, I bought a protein powder and Omega-3 oil supplement.

Heck, I'll try anything once. It couldn't be any less effective than the remaining unused bottles of Seven-Plus I bought last year from a high school friend. (Ahh, Acai berry, you are so 2009.)

After the seminar and hanging out with my Valley Coach buddies, I rushed over to my friend Anat's nearby for a post-dinner chat. It was so nice catching up, unwinding and relaxing, and not feeling guilty for having to be elsewhere, checking in, etc.

In short, this was my kind of day. Frenetic, but not chaotic. Busy, but manageable. Scheduled, but flexible. Purposeful. Inspired.

So, this is what being single is like?

Huh.

323 days and counting.

The Little Things

A lot happened today. First day back at work in two-plus weeks. A new employee on my team started his first day. Frank showed up in a sling from the New Year's Eve refrigerator-moving debacle. Fit two workouts in (swim and weights). Busy, busy, busy.

But the best thing to happen was hearing that a friend I've known since high school, Dustin, is signing up for his first triathlon this year. And it's partially because of what I've been doing the past few years in the sport.

It may seem like a little thing to some people, but for me, the idea that maybe what I'm doing is inspiring someone else to dream big and act upon it...that's huge. It's flattering. It's exciting.

It's just what I needed.

I'm not feeling that inspirational these days, so knowing that perhaps I've had a positive effect on someone else's life right now is invigorating.

Dustin is going to do the Breath of Life sprint triathlon in Ventura this June. I will be there, either participating or cheering him on. I'm so excited for Dustin and the journey he is about to go on. I hope he gets out of triathlon training what I've been fortunate enough to experience for myself. I will definitely be supportive every step of the way.

It may be selfish to say, but Dustin's first triathlon may be as meaningful for me as it will be for him.

Hey, maybe we can get some other first-timers out there in Ventura this June?

Spread the word. And sign up: http://www.triforlife.com/

324 days and counting.

Running With, Within Myself

After talking about my inspirational and fun training partners and how much I look forward to our group training sessions, I flaked this morning because I needed a little more sleep.

(It's amazing what how one glass of wine can affect me with all this working out!)

So, I ended up doing my long run alone, all two hours and 20 minutes of it. The course: Nike run at Mulholland Drive and Encino Hills Road.

That's a lot of time to spend by yourself a couple days after a break-up, even if you've got a sweet iPod workout mix (which, I do, thank you very much).

I noticed two parallel paths on this run, the goal of staying within zone 3 on the heart rate even on hills (no more than 154 bpm), and my ability to have a one-track mind analyzing this failed relationship.

When you run by yourself, you can sometimes be your own worst training partner. "What if...?" "Why did I...?" "Why didn't she...?" "Why couldn't they...?"

Why, why, why. It doesn't matter that it doesn't matter, the questions persist.

Meanwhile, calmly, analytically, I'm scanning my heart rate watch. Ensuring I keep my pulse in check. Doing so clinically, as if I'm two different people. The athlete: Steely. Resolute. Focused. The man: Sad. Remorseful. Dazed.

It's a bizarre feeling straddling both sides of my persona. Ironic, I suppose, that my recovery is literally in motion. Step-by-step. Hill-by-hill. And when I can't run any more, just like in life, I stop, take a break, gather myself, breathe...and start running again.

***

Today was a "me" day in other ways. It was my last day off before returning to work tomorrow. This break went by so fast, for obvious reasons and because I did actually enjoy most of it. But the holiday break needed to be sent off in style. So, after breakfast at my favorite local spot (Jinky's) and a relaxing yoga session at Black Dog (except for the farter next to me...namanasty!), I went wild. How did I celebrate?

Wait for it...

An hour massage. Impressed? Yeah, I thought so.

There is a lot to be said for getting a massage when you're stressed out, worn down and beat up. I didn't realize how much I needed that massage until I could barely get off the table at the end.

For those of you who are local to Sherman Oaks, Massage Envy on Ventura Boulevard at Cedros Street is the real deal. Ask for Brianna.

And now, after dinner at the Counter with my family and visiting some friends in Santa Monica, I'm settling in for the night.

Exhausted.

Wondering how tomorrow will turn out.

325 days and counting.

Slow and Easy Does It

I felt like I sucked during my bike ride today.

The joy of heart-rate training.

I rode with a group or cyclists associated with Bicycle John's in Agoura. In the past, I kept up fine with them, to the point where I felt almost like I was too fast for the group.

Not today.

The goal was to ride long hills for two hours with less than maximum effort, staying in my saddle most of the time, and keeping my heart rate under 168 bpm.

On the positive side, I was able to handle every one of those challenges. In fact, my heart rate only briefly peaked at 161 going up the Rock Store grade off Kanan Road. Typically, I was around 157, which was pretty good.

The tough part was watching the same group of cyclists whom I've kept up with in the past blow completely by me on their way up the hill. I couldn't help but wonder whether all this training is making me slower. It was hard to swallow, especially on a day where I just wanted to ride hard and blow off some steam.

Then, I swam intervals for an hour after the bike ride concluded.

I wonder how many of those cyclists could have done the same thing.

Then again, maybe I'm the only one crazy enough to even try it!

326 days and counting.

Team Ryan, Minus 1

My Ironman journey so far has been tougher than expected.

It's going to get tougher still.

My now ex-girlfriend and I broke up (again, for those playing along at home) a couple days ago. Not because of the demands associated with Ironman training... it was just one of those relationships whose long, windy road has finally come to an inevitable dead-end. Peacefully. Lovingly. Honestly.

For those who read this blog and didn't realize we had even started dating again, well, we did. Not for very long, but long enough to realize that while the highs were still high, the lows were still just too low. And they were going to persist.

In the words of Forrest Gump, that's all I've gotta say about that.

Fortunately, over the past several weeks and months, I've met a fantastic group of new friends through my triathlon training. I know the grinding schedule of Ironman training will offer stability and structure during a transition period in my life. I also know the mental fortitude that comes with extensive triathlon training will carry me through some difficult moments.

So while I may kvetch about the rigors of Ironman training, it has and will continue to be a saving grace.

Tomorrow is another day. Another ride. Another swim. Another chance to reconnect with cool people with whom I share an already strong bond. A community of supporters. And friends.

I am hurting a little. But I am ready. I feel fortunate about that.

327 days and counting.

Times Change

10 years ago tonight, I was in San Francisco, partying on the beach all night and into the next day. It was among the wildest of nights.

Tonight, 10 years later, I'm at my parents' home. Just them, some family friends, and me. It is among the mildest of nights.

Yet I'm content. It's an interesting measuring stick of where I've been the past decade. Whether it's perspective, experience, wisdom and even some financial security, I've definitely gained a lot. And whether it's the loss of some good friends (Brian and Jason immediately come to mind), a girlfriend (OK, a few) a family member (grandpa), some naivete or innocence, I've definitely lost, too.

I cycled in the wind for a couple hours today with Frank (before I dropped a refrigerator on him helping him move, but that's another story for another time), and this is what I thought about.

What did I learn this past decade? How would I categorize the last 10 years of my life?

After much introspection, I think years 25-35 can be categorized as the decade where I asserted my independence. I found my own voice. I became my own person. I accepted myself for me.

It has been a hard road to find that voice and become this person. I haven't always liked what I've seen. And changing can be a real bitch. But the journey sure as hell has been worth it.

I wonder what the next 10 years will bring? Will triathlons continue to be a centerpiece in my life or a fad, like kart racing, martial arts and tennis? Will I finally settle down with the person I'm supposed to marry? Will I marry at all? Raise a family? Travel the world?

I have no idea.

What I do know is that for the next 11 months, I will train for Ironman Arizona. I will spend an inordinate amount of time in the pool, running on trails, and cycling all over the Southland. And since most of that time will be spent without iPods and much conversation, I will have plenty of time to think. To grow. To learn. To comprehend. To appreciate.

Right now, I need that.

So, I enter 2010 with many more questions than answers.

But I'm excited to see what happens next. What's around the corner. What the next lap will bring. What's on the other side of the hill.

328 days and counting.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Today between training sessions (swim and run in the misty rain), I went to the Annenberg Space for Photography in Century City for an exhibit of sports photography (which I highly recommend, btw). Two of the greatest sports photographers of our time had their works on display, Walter Iooss and Neil Leifer. You've seen their work. Ali standing over Liston? Leifer. Jordan's signature free-throw line dunk in the '88 Slam Dunk Contest? Iooss. And the list goes on and on.

As I walked past the gallery of the most famous and memorable sports images of the past 50 years, I couldn't help but wonder what would the image look like when I cross the finish line at the Ironman this coming November. Would I have a look of exuberance like Sandy Koufax when he won the final game of the 1963 World Series against the Yankees? Would I look defeated, like one of the grass-stained, mud-soaked NFL players from the 1960s? Would there be a steely look of focus on my face like Jackie Joyner-Kersee from the 1992 Olympics?

Hopefully we won't see a look of tortured anguish like Mary Decker from the 1984 Olympics.

Then, after thinking about all that, I realized something as I walked back to my car. I was thinking when i finish the Ironman. Not if.

329 days and counting.

Ruuuudy...Ruuuudy...Ruuuudy

I fell in love just a little bit more with my favorite movie today.

I was on the trainer for an hour and to kill the time, I called up my DVR list of recorded programs and saw an old friend in the queue.

Rudy.

Perfect.

It was a poignant reminder of a message I will need to keep in my head every day through November 21, 2010: Never give up.

Despite the intensity of the trainer session, highlighted by 30 minutes of HR zone 3 riding in a bigger gear than usual, time flew by. Rudy always gets to me. Yep, I always get weepy at two parts: First, when Rudy shows his dad the acceptance letter to Notre Dame, and second, when Rudy gets knocked on his ass in the Irish football team tryout and then barks at the coaches to give him another shot to bust through the defenders. And does it. Bloodied and battered. But undaunted. Guts and grit personified.

When watching Rudy, I am him, and he is me (bonus points here for the Beatles song and follow-up lyrics). I've had several Rudy-esque experiences over my life, but the most vivid (and closest to the movie) was the one that occurred when I was a member of my ninth grade basketball team. I was cut two years in a row prior on the seventh and eighth grade squads, made the frosh team as the final roster spot but sat on the bench most of the year. However, a small fan club demanding my playing time increase turned into a big fan club, my coach relented a bit, I got more playing time, and bedlam ensued.

To this day, the memories of ninth grade basketball are among the happiest of my life.

The lessons learned from that year are every bit as valuable.

Work hard. Work late. Work early. Put in the time. Dream a little. Enjoy the moment.

Never, ever give up.

Training for the Ironman has been much more than I expected. The commitment, the intensity, the expenses... it's overwhelming. But, this blog (along with the friendships I've made via Valley Coach and the LA Tri Club) has helped me organize my thoughts, keep them in check, learn some perspective, and stay focused on the day-to-day work that goes into becoming an Ironman.

And today, my favorite movie reminded me the most important message of all.

330 days and counting.

Musical Laps

For Hanukkah, I got a waterproof iPod holder and earbuds for the pool.

I used them for the first time today during my afternoon swim. For five minutes.

Let me tell you about about two H20 Audio products, the Amphibx iPod holder and Surge earbuds. First, the Amphibx armband. It wraps around your arm like a kid's floaty. It's bulky and awkward. The more common-sense way to wear it would be on your back, so it doesn't affect your balance with each stroke. But wearing the holder on your back requires an extension wrap. For more money.

Of course. Like all other things in this sport!

Then, you've got the wired earbuds. These are great, when they're not falling out of your ears. So, then you place them inside your swim cap, where they rub. Awesome. And on top of that, the wires can get a little jumbled around your neck or arms during strokes. Brilliant!

Who did the engineering for this product? Did they ever swim a lap in their life?

Folks, there's probably a reason why most people in the pool don't listen to music. Guess I'm learning that the hard way. I'll try it again on the next swim, but so far, definitely two "empty water bottles" for me on the H20 Audio products. Swim with them at your own risk.

Unfortunately, the swim itself was not so hot either. Forty-five minutes of "easy" laps and cadence work felt harder than expected. I was off my normal pace, feeling the effects from soreness over the weekend and a poor night's sleep. Coach Gerardo took the weight training off the schedule for today, which was much appreciated. My fuel tank is low at the moment. I'll try to fit in some gentle yoga later today or tonight to help further revitalize.

Just no music.

331 days and counting.

Quick Post

It's late. I'm sore. I'm tired.

Long day of training today. It started with a frigid 50-mile Valley Coach group ride from Calabasas to Newbury Park and back. It was so cold that I had to stop at a convenience store to pick up a pair of mittens because I couldn't feel my fingers for the first 15 minutes of the ride! I didn't even care they were ladies mittens so long as they were warm. Which they were. The ride featured some decent climbs, and despite my lower heart-rate zone re-calibrations I was able to lead the pack for most of the major ones. Of course, I'm suffering the consequences as we speak, laid up in bed hardly able to move. My quads are shredded. But I loved every minute of it...for one day, I earned the coveted metaphorical polka-dot jersey on my team.

Following the ride (and a quick shower), I high-tailed it over to Black Dog Yoga for a basic flow session. While the stretching helped, the quads and abs work pushed me over the edge. The rest of the day was spent trying to will my body to finish it without keeling over on the spot. Definitely will feel the weekend workouts for the next couple days.

Fortunately, tomorrow is a recovery day, with weights and a light swim being the only activities of the day. I can handle that.

Wish I had more to offer. I'm just too pooped to think of anything clever.

332 days and counting.