Time Trial Fail

I screwed up today.

I hate screwing up.

It was a time-trial run day; one hour total with 30 minutes of going as hard as my body could sustain consistently. I didn't quite grasp that last point. Instead, I tried to maintain an even pace where I knew I had fuel left in the proverbial tank, and so my heart-rate was at a low zone 4 (154-168 bpm) by the end of the run.

For most of the 30 minutes, I ran at an even pace between 6.0-6.3 mph, and my heart rate was typically in zone 3 (142-154 bpm). I felt great. The run was pretty easy, in fact. I had a lot more fuel left to burn, which I thought was the point going in. Like yesterday's swim trial. I felt so good that I felt guilty there wasn't a second workout today.

I suppose that should have been a sign that something was amiss.

Coach Gerardo wanted me to run harder. He was surprised that my speed was so low and that my heart-rate average for the 20-minute monitored portion was 155 bpm.

Apparently, I screwed up.

Did I mention I hate screwing up?

Now, I'm re-doing my time trial this Sunday. It's like doing homework over again because you screwed up so bad (there's that phrase again!) that the teacher wants you to start from scratch.

Ugh!

The rest of the day matched my mood following that notification. Damp. Dreary. Blah. (You can see for yourself in the image above, my view today from our Burbank-based offices.) And then to top it off, I read my dad's blog post about being average. Arrgh! However, today was momentous in that I celebrated my sixth-year anniversary working at my company. My job is fantastic. It allows me to grow the position the way I deem fit, while growing my career in exciting new ways. It's challenging, rewarding and flat-out fun. And it gives me the opportunity to train for Ironman guilt-free.

In this economy and at this point in my life, I never lose sight of how lucky I am.

Tomorrow, I'm swimming at the crack of dawn again. This time in Westwood at Equinox with my friend Anat. We both have swims planned, so why not do it together, we figured. With this drippy weather, we need all the motivation we can muster to get out of bed so early.

308 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.

Diet Right

Few things cut to the core of my insecurities more than when someone tells me I look too thin, or worse yet, "skinny." It brings me back to my younger days when I was downright bony and didn't feel very attractive or confident.

So, the other night when Anat's mom thought my face looked thin compared to the last time she saw me, I got worried.

"Am I gaunt?"

"Am I over-training?"

"Am I hurting myself?"

"Will ladies think I'm unattractive?"

Yes, these are the thoughts that run through my head like a cable car busted loose off the tracks. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it in a public setting, but if a blog can't be a place for honest, introspective communication then what's the point of writing at all?

Fortunately, I already had arranged a meeting with a nutritionist for tonight to analyze my food intake and how I can enhance my performance.

I'm even more fortunate that my nutritionist, Yasmin, is my next-door neighbor. (No, this is not Trudy and Bam-Bam above me!)

The verdict? When it comes to my nutrition, Yasmin said I'm doing everything, literally everything right. She even asked me if I had met with a nutritionist in the past because she was so surprised.

Nope, I've never met with a nutritionist. But, considering I've taken fitness at least somewhat seriously since I was 18, I suppose nearly 18 years of experience since then qualifies me as knowing how to take good care of myself. The proof? Yasmin thought I was 28 years old, and was shocked to learn I'm 35.

Flattery is a very good business strategy.

Needless to say, I'm quite pleased. I'm consuming the right amount of calories (3,000-3,800), within the correct ratio of proteins, carbohydrates and fats (1/3, 1/3, 1/3) from the right foods and supplements (grains, chicken, greens, fruits, etc.). And if I want to gain a few extra pounds, I can start by drinking a milkshake a week from Mel's Diner, which is practically across the street from me.

Strawberry shake, here I come!

Perhaps the best part of the night though was hanging out with Yasmin and her husband, Tomer, after our meeting. We watched the Lakers game and generally fired up what I hope will become a lasting friendship. Tomer is considering a triathlon and I'm trying to convince him to attempt the Hermosa Day at the Beach sprint triathlon this October. I think it's a fantastic starter event for anyone considering the sport (1/4 mile swim, 10-mile bike, three-mile run).

Now, I'm off to sleep since I need to be up in less than eight hours for a 6 a.m. swim in Calabasas. I promised one of my Fortius teammates, Lisa, that I'd join her for an early session, which will be a threshold-pace test. I'm actually a little nervous! As long as there's no lightning, I'm there.

310 days and counting.

50 Posts...What I've Learned Since Day 1

Wow, I just noticed I've made 50 blog posts.

Thinking back, I've learned a lot in a pretty short amount of time. In fact, in the spirit of all the recent late night talk show drama, here's my Top 10 Things I've Learned About Ironman Training So Far:

10) Pack your car key securely in your runner's belt. Or, it may fall out. Like it did today.

9) Keep a spare car key in your glove compartment. Like I didn't today.

8) Slower eventually equals faster. I can especially see improvement on the bike hill climbs.

7) Kiss Saturdays goodbye. 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. equals training.

6) A 9-hour training week (like what I have this week) is now considered easy!

5) Chlorine is not the latest Calvin Klein cologne. It just seems that way.

4) Swimming in the rain is delightful. Running, on the other hand, is not. Cycling is just plain crazy.

3) Triathlon training is expensive. Golf has nothing on this sport!

2) Training with a group like Fortius makes the hours pass quickly.

1) The long hours and sacrifice are totally worth it... I'm an Ironman addict!

***

Set a new personal best today with an approximate 14-mile run (no footpod to confirm though). The Fortius group ran all up and around Griffith Park just hours before the rain hit the Southland. Prior to meeting up with the group, I went on a 30-minute warmup jog and felt tight after yesterday's brick (go figure). Fortunately, teammate David is a sports massage therapist who runs his own practice. He offered to work on my IT bands for a few minutes and it made a huge difference for the remaining two hours, 15 minutes. If you're looking for a good sports massage, I suggest you give David a try. I will again soon.

The run ended uneventfully, until I realized that somewhere along the trail my car key popped out of my running belt holder. Total fail. Fortunately, Coach Gerardo dropped me off at home after breakfast and my buddy TJ brought me back to the car with my spare key. All's well that ends well.

I was then able to drop off some used shoes at Sports Chalet in support of its Soles 4 Souls effort for Haiti earthquake relief. Sports Chalet is accepting used shoe donations through tomorrow, so hurry over there if you have some extra footwear and want to make a difference.

That's it for now. Layin' low and stayin' dry for the rest of the night.

311 days and counting.

Like Father, Like Son

I can barely find the strength to keep my hands on the keyboard right now.

I survived nearly five hours of cycling, followed by a brief break for a gigantic burrito, followed by 2,200 yards of swimming highlighted by four, 300-yard T-pace sets with 50 yards of kicking...as a recovery drill.

My body temperature is literally elevated right now -- I almost feel like I have a fever -- from burning through 3,000-plus calories.

The good news is that I can clearly see improvement, especially on the bike. Today the Fortius (formerly Valley Coach) group rode through Santa Susana Pass (pictured) near my hometown of Simi Valley. I've ridden that pass several times, usually huffing and puffing up both sides (when I'm not sailing off the road down a 30-foot embankment!). Today was different. I casually strolled up each climb, not feeling heavy in the legs or the lungs. My pace hadn't increased from past climbs, but my cadence rose while my heart-rate dropped.

Ahh, progress. When you're putting in this much time and effort, it's vital to savor the moment when you notice it occurring.

The other highlight of my day was swimming with my dad. The past sentence is one I never anticipated typing. But, you just don't know whose life you'll touch when you're trying to inspire and motivate those around you to "try for a tri."

My dad needs a lot of work in the pool, but he actually looked better than I anticipated. From a fitness standpoint, he's clearly trying too hard to do too much, too fast.

Now I know where I get it from! Chip, meet Block.

I suggested he just spend a lot of time early on getting used to the water. Working on breathing. Relaxing. The fitness will come, and eventually, so will technique.

Let's see if he listens. If he's anything like me, and I think he may be, he'll skip Chapter One and head straight to the back of the book for the toughest problems.

Regardless, I truly enjoyed serving as "coach" for my dad. He would say that I've taught him a lot over the years, but I've never really tried to teach in that direct way. So, this is really the first time I can remember teaching him something new. I'm definitely enjoying it, and the longer drive to get my swim workout in was time well spent.

I started typing that my reward for our swim session was a very nice Italian dinner.

Scratch that.

The memory of the experience will far surpass it.

312 days and counting.

A Nice Friday Surprise

For the first time since Lord-knows-when, I'm writing dates down on an actual paper calendar in my office (they still make these?). Usually, I can keep activities well organized in my head, or there was always the lady reminding me and doing all the social planning anyway.

Times, they are a-changin'.

Almost every night the past few weeks, I've been busy doing something, anything, besides stay home. Been there, done that. I know where that road leads.

And it's been working, little by little. Tonight was supposed to ring in the first weekend with little to no social plans besides training. I was totally OK with that, too. Like a good run at the casino tables that comes to an end, I knew exhausting myself every night with activities had to stop at some point.

Fortunately, my friend Anat came to the rescue. Again. I may have lost someone incredibly special in my ex-girlfriend, but in the process, I've gained one helluva friend. Someone who has single-handedly taken it upon herself to essentially be there whenever, wherever, however. I could not be more grateful and humbled. I am one lucky dude.

Tonight, Anat invited me to join her family and some family friends of theirs for an informal Shabbat dinner at Brent's Deli in Westlake. It was so relaxing and enjoyable. Essentially the whole experience felt like a home away from home. Down to being told my face has gotten thinner the past few months and that I need to eat more! (I'm tryin'! I'm tryin'!) My current food coma indicates Mission Accomplished for the evening.

All in all, it was a fantastic day off from the training regimen. Thanks to a good friend, good company, and good food.

I'm glad my rapidly filling calendar had nothing written in it for tonight.

313 days and counting.

Thursday Night, the New Saturday Night

As you can tell, I take my Ironman training pretty seriously (some would say too seriously). That typically translates to mornings and lunchtimes booked for workouts, with evenings often ending a little early so I have enough energy to renew the cycle the next morning.

Today was no different, as I was on the trainer for an hour and in the gym for half an hour. The workouts were OK. I put in the time and effort but probably could have gone a bit harder on the bike to raise the heart-rate higher.

Through this entire experience though, I'm learning I need one night, at least one night, where I can go out and unwind with a friend or two and not worry about missing a workout the next day.

That night seems to occur every Thursday, since I don't train on Fridays. Tonight was no exception.

Fortunately, I had some added cause to celebrate. I learned today that I earned a pay raise at work, which I wanted to celebrate and savor a little. Of course, since my ex-girlfriend is no longer in the picture, I wasn't sure how to celebrate or with whom. So I took myself out to dinner at my favorite Indian food restaurant, Salomi in North Hollywood (Chicken Makhani 4tw!). It was delicious as usual. From there, I met a career mentor of mine, Joe, for drinks at a club in downtown LA. The drinks were superb and the lengthy conversation was better.

It was just what I needed. A night out. An escape. Something besides the normal routine. Laughter. Reminiscing. And even some inspiration.

It's funny what even just a couple drinks and a leisurely evening out can do for my mental outlook on training. I am excited for my day off from training tomorrow, but am now looking forward to Saturday's long bike ride and swim brick whereas I couldn't say that at the beginning of the day. Even though some might argue that a few drinks might take the edge off, I find that it sharpens my resolve to refocus and re-commit to my training.

But for now, as I type from my bed, the drinks make me sleepy. Which is also an added benefit during this transition period in my life.

Good night, world.

314 days and counting.

Training Saves the Day

Yesterday, my training almost killed me. Literally.

Today, it probably saved me.

I awoke this morning to the soothing sounds of rain splatting downward from the rooftop drains. It was dark, drizzly, and delightfully miserable.

Perfect weather to stay in, rationalize not training, and be a little mopey.

Instead, I donned a hoodie, track pants and my trail runners and took off for Van Nuys-Sherman Oaks park for a damp, muddy one hour, 20-minute training run.

I didn't want to go, I was already warm and comfy inside. But I knew I needed it. Not just the running aspect for my upcoming marathon, but the endorphin rush that came with it.

I didn't sleep well last night. It felt like Phase I of grieving my lost relationship (Denial) had ended and I was spiraling rapidly into a combination Phase II-IV (Anger, Bargaining, Depression) "triple whammy" scenario. Not good. Not healthy.

But, I fought the urge to give in to that dark place. I'd rather fight the rain than the pain, so to speak.

I'm so glad I did. In fact, the sun poked out for a bit about 20 minutes into my slogging/jogging, right after my eight, 20-second hill sprints. It almost felt like a metaphor for me right now in my life... if you accept what appears to be a crappy situation and try to make the best of it, the sun may poke through when you least expect it.

The same thing happened this evening. I had a dentist appointment at 4 p.m. (I need to fill a cavity, dammit!) and found myself with free time around 6. I was at home and could have stayed there, but once again I felt a case of the doldrums closing in. It would have been so easy to sit on the couch and stare at a wall thinking "woe is me!" but I grudgingly rallied and drove to Calabasas to swim 2,800 yards worth of intervals.

Once again, I'm so glad I did. My outlook now is 1,000 times better than when I started fighting traffic on the 101 Freeway to get to the pool. And, I'm physically exhausted, so I should sleep a little better tonight.

In fact, I'm signing off now to go do just that.

315 days and counting.

Beautiful (Dangerous) Day

Trudy and Bam-Bam struck again in the wee hours this morning.

Like at 5:19 a.m., to be precise. Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump! That is what I awoke to this morning, rapid steps pounding across the ceiling directly over my head. It sounded like mortar rounds pounding a concrete bunker. Literally, my walls shook briefly and it wasn't even an earthquake.

So, after cursing the heavens and trying unsuccessfully to fall back asleep, I arose 45 minutes later to start my 1.5 hour bike ride sooner than expected. I was treated to a spectacular sunrise from my balcony.

Seriously, just stare at that for a second and tell me there isn't a G-d.

The ride wasn't too bad either, when I wasn't dodging traffic on Burbank Boulevard once again near Balboa Park. Man, rush hour drivers are the worst! Cyclists seem to be worth 10 points on the Road Kill game scale. I was honked at, cursed, buzzed at close distance... essentially the most hated man on the road!

I get it, but I don't. People are rushing to work and apparently I'm in their way, even if I'm in the bike lane. Like it's some massive inconvenience to move just a few feet over to accommodate my legal right to share the road. Like their boss is going to fire them for being 30 seconds later than normal because some jackass cyclist prevented them from going 65 in a 40 mile-per-hour zone. Geesh!

Still, the ride itself was pleasant (and challenging), for the most part. The task at hand was to ride for an hour and 15 minutes, with 40 of those minutes being non-stop in zone 3 heart-rate (142-154 bpm) in a bigger gear than preferred riding between 80-90 rpm. Whether it was from stress or exercise, I accomplished the mission. I rode 13.3 miles in 40 minutes, with brief stops or slowing included. I essentially averaged 20 mph in a trafficked area, which makes me think I can ride faster than 20, possibly 21-22 mph, consistently at a tempo pace.

I think I'm getting faster!

The ride home was simply harrowing. I need a new route if I'm going to be near Balboa Park past 8:15 a.m. The 405 Freeway overpass at Burbank is insanely busy, and Sepulveda at Ventura Boulevard is just as bad. Not good for cyclists (duh!). I literally started riding on the sidewalk because the streets were jammed with angry motorists.

I love my training, but today felt a bit like I was practically begging to be hit by a car. There's got to be a better place in the Valley to ride hard and fast in the morning without being a target.

Maybe when Trudy and Bam-Bam start knockin', I'll have to get up early to start rockin'.

316 days and counting.

Easy Does It

Today's training session was a little easy, but I'm not complaining.

Fortunately, my friend from high school, Dustin, made my swim much more enjoyable. We met up at the Calabasas Tennis & Swim Center for his second swim since committing to his first triathlon this summer. It makes such a difference knowing there's a buddy in the swim lane next to you waking up early and going through the same training regimen.

My swim was supposed to be a recovery workout. Several long, easy sets with cadence between 45-55 strokes per minute, followed by five-100 yard sprints at 90% capacity with 30-second rest intervals between each 100.

Usually, I'm hitting 48-50 strokes per minute on my cadence. I was consistently 50-52 strokes today, most likely the result of this weekend's thrashing. But my 100 times were improving. I hit 1:53 (probably close to a personal best for me), followed by 2:00, 2:00, 2:03 and 1:59.

The rest of the day was as smooth outside the water as I felt in it. I finished a presentation for a big meeting tomorrow that I now feel well-prepared for, and my team is performing with good energy and focus.

In short, I feel good.

Tomorrow, I've got a power bike ride for an hour and 15 minutes. I need to figure out where I can get that ride in where it's not too busy at 7:30 a.m. Candidates at this point are Balboa Park, Balboa/Rinaldi/Valley Circle, San Fernando Road, or San Vicente in Brentwood.

But for now, I'm going to bask in being caught up with my personal business, my work business, and my training business. A whole hour of free time! What to do... what to do.

I stayed true to my vow in yoga yesterday...take it easy. And, so far, easy indeed does it.

317 days and counting.