A Light Training Day

For all the discipline I showed yesterday, pounding out a running test and lifting amidst an industry conference, today was closer to reality. The event proceedings started at 9 a.m., which didn't leave much time to swim and spin on the stationary bike beforehand.  OK, it could have had I been in the pool by 6:45 a.m.  But, considering I was going to have a quiet night's sleep in a dark hotel room, after a late night of drinks with friends and colleagues, that wasn't going to happen.

Though I managed to get out of bed by 6:20 a.m. I didn't rally to hit the gym until 7:15.  I decided to postpone my swim T-pace test since the hotel pool is 20 yards and has no clock.  (No, I still haven't programmed my Garmin, so the waterproof watch thing is off the table for now!)

Instead, I did spin intervals on the stationary bike for 45 minutes.  Worked up a sweat, burned 300 calories, called it a day.

I feel pretty guilty. I could have found a way to manage the swim if I really wanted to.  But, I'll make up the swim test this weekend so it's no big deal.

Instead, I've enjoyed an informative day of seminars about game design theory, social games design, production methodologies and even a discussion about how the brain works when it comes to states of awareness.  Very cool stuff.

Tomorrow is my off day.  The second this week.  Though today felt like a third off-day.  Heck, I'm not complaining.  I've got nine months left of training.  I'll take an easy week when I can get one.

278 days and counting.

PS: One really cool note.  Last night at an industry party, a former co-worker found me and said he reads the blog.  He added that it's inspired him to run again.  It meant so much to me to hear that kind of feedback!

Viva Vegas

I really don't like Las Vegas. Is that OK to admit?  It's everything I'm not, or at least don't think I am.  Flashy. Over the top.  Glitzy.  Glamorous.

Vegas stays up all night.  I go to bed by 11.  Vegas bets the house.  I take calculated risks.  Vegas is all style.  I try to be all substance. (OK, maybe there's a little flash involved, too, if I'm being totally honest here!).

But one thing we can see eye to eye on...food.  There's a lot of it here.  And that's good, because I'm frickin' hungry.

Especially today. Find me a buffet!  I caught the 7:20 a.m. flight from Burbank to Sin City.  Up at 5:30 a.m., along with my lovely neighbor Trudy.  Just in case my alarm wasn't loud enough, she had me covered with her usual circus act of stomping and drawer slamming.

I know some children read this blog now, so I'll refrain from writing what I'm thinking.

I'm honestly not sure which I can't stand more...Vegas, or Trudy.  It's close.

Once I checked in at the Red Rocks Casino (room pictured above) and caught up on emails and text messages, I decided 9:30 a.m. would be the perfect time to fit my running time-trial in.  The nice concierge pointed me to a windy, concrete path in a wash basin just a few miles from the resort.  It did the trick.

At first, I felt quite sluggish.  I couldn't tell if it was the air travel, the early wake-up, dehydration, lack of nutrition or general fatigue.  But it definitely took me the full 20 minutes to warm-up before I began the TT portion.  My right calf was stiff and it affected my stride.

Fortunately, the actual TT went much better -- even if I labored through it a bit more than usual.  My 20-minute average heart-rate bpm remained the same from four weeks ago, 168.  However, if I calculated correctly using MapMyRun.com, then my pace improved by nearly a full minute.  Four weeks ago, I ran an 8:44 mile.  Today, my pace was 7:21!

I may have to visit Vegas more often.

Following the run, I crammed in a shortened strength training session.  The 45-minute workout felt like an hour-and-a-half, with the following usual suspects involved (2 sets, 15 reps unless noted):

-- Lat pulldowns, squats

-- Flys, lunges

-- Rows, leg extensions

-- Shoulder press, leg curls

-- Push-ups, calf raisers

-- Tricep extensions (1 set)

-- Arm curls (1 set)

-- Plank

As Brady Quinn said in the cheesy EAS TV spots, "Now I'm done."  Lots of pasta, with grilled chicken, followed by a Muscle Milk.  Sorry, EAS.

The rest of the day and evening has been and will continue to be work-focused.  But that will be easy considering I'm at a conference. Conference calls and schmoozing with colleagues are the order of the day.

I will rest easy knowing I found the discipline to train hard in a town like this.

Ironman. An exercise in willpower.

279 days and counting.

Rough Night

Special edition daytime blog post, courtesy of the President's Day holiday. Is it possible to bonk 12 hours after training?

I had a terrible night's sleep.  First off, I was hot.  Not room temperature hot from a sunny day in California.  Hot, because my body temperature felt like I had a fever.  I was so hot that I woke up, grabbed a Blue Ice bag and kept it affixed to the base of my neck until I cooled down.

I fell asleep with it on.

Then, two hours into my sleep I awoke due to hunger pangs.

Am I pregnant or something?  Seriously, this is what I ate yesterday:

-- Oatmeal with almonds and raisins, along with some Vega Omega-3 oil supplement

-- Clif Bar and energy gel shots

-- Banana

-- 36 ounces of Heed

-- 16 ounces of Recoverite

-- Three-egg cheese, onion and chicken-sausage omelet, with fruit, potatoes and bread

-- Two pieces of meatloaf

-- Sushi, and lots of it

-- Yogurtland (yum!), with lots of Oreos, berries and chocolate chips

Then, at 12:30 a.m., add a second banana.

Then, at 2 a.m., add a half Clif Bar.

Then, at 4 a.m., add the other half of said Clif Bar.

And I still LOST WEIGHT last night!  To the tune of about 2.5 pounds.

Well, I did burn through 6,000 calories in less than 48 hours.  Guess I didn't put back in 6,000 calories worth of nutrition. I sure as heck tried though!  I mean, there's only so much I can physically ingest before I have more traffic "downstairs" than the 405/5 Freeway interchange at rush hour.  I'm already making more pit stops than Danica Patrick in her first NASCAR season!

I'm down to my lowest weight since I've been training.  I'm concerned, to be honest.  I hate looking too thin.  It's a source of insecurity rooted deep in a childhood hanging out with bigger, taller, faster kids and trying to keep up with them on the soccer field, basketball or tennis court. Or at the school dance on a Friday night.

It wasn't easy being the runty but funny short kid that all the girls wanted to call their friend while they asked if I could set them up on dates with my friends.  That stays with you.

But lately, as in the past couple years, I finally felt like I achieved the physique I had always wanted. Toned.  Cut.  Muscular.

It shouldn't matter, not years later, but it was a welcome ego boost.

Unfortunately though, I've heard from one too many good friends in the past couple weeks who have noticed that I'm looking "thin."  This is code for, "Dude, eat something.  Like, now!"  Of course, other friends and even my family have commented that I've never looked better. But, when it comes to something as sensitive as appearances, I tend to hear the negative more than the positive.

It's a little deflating, to be honest.  I'm training so hard.  And I've been feeling so good.  Damn good!  I'm eating everything in sight. I'm trying to keep on the pounds.  But sometimes it's not working.  I think I'm going to go back to the Jay Robb Whey Protein and milkshakes every day.  I was avoiding them after the Brendan Brazier seminar and trying his healthy but awful-tasting Vega products.

Time to get back on the good stuff.

I'm supposed to enjoy an off day from training today following this past weekend's killer regimen.  But, I have a trip to Las Vegas planned for work this Wednesday through Friday.  That means lighter workouts but less time to fit them in.  So, I'm going to trudge to the pool now and do some easy swim recovery laps so I don't have to tomorrow.  That way, I can do my 1.25 hour cycling test tomorrow without worrying about a second workout.

Maybe I'll hit a buffet (or two) on the way back.  Or at least I know of a few in Vegas!

Got anything I can eat?  My fridge is now officially bare.

281 days and counting.

The Bar is Rising

Tomorrow, a new phase of training begins. It lurks in the form of a 5.5-hour bike ride starting in Calabasas at 8 a.m.  Hill climbs.  Lots of long hill climbs in the curvy backroads of Malibu Canyon.  And the intensity only rises further the next day.  Sunday calls for 2.75 hours of hilly trail running, followed by 3,200 yards of swimming.  That's close to two miles of swimming, for those keeping score.  By far the most I've ever swam in one session.

Hey, Coach, my Ironman isn't until November!  What's the deal, yo?  Is this your idea of a Valentine's Day gift?  (Good, because it's the only one I'm getting, apparently!)

Well, I suppose it's time.  I can tell I'm now comfortable at this current level of training intensity.  That's an accomplishment on its own since I recall just a few weeks ago how hard the transition was to this intensity level.  Blogging daily allows me to maintain this kind of perspective and celebrate a moment that otherwise might have gone unrealized.  So, I lift a virtual glass to, well, myself!

<Clink!>

L'Chaim!

Now, there's only one thing left to do: Raise the bar higher.  Such is the life of an Ironman-in-training.

284 days and counting.

PS: I'd like to briefly comment on the death of the Georgian luge competitor at the Vancouver Winter Olympics this morning.  Putting the obvious negligent safety issues aside for a moment, this young man died doing what he loved.  Competing.  On a global stage.  Competing at something he trained his entire young life for. I am truly sad for him, his family, friends and countrymen.  Yet at the same time, I can think of no better way to have a life cut short if it must.

If something catastrophic ever happens to me while training for the Ironman, I will have gone out on my terms.  I can live with that.

Rest easy, Nodar.

Time to Procrastinate

Full disclosure: I'm blogging to procrastinate right now. My new Garmin 310x uber-watch is staring at me, waiting to be programmed.  Begging, in fact.  Coach Gerardo is begging too.

Full disclosure:  I've had this watch for about two weeks.  It's still in the original box.  Anat likes to point this out regularly.

Tonight I've made some progress though.  All the parts are out of the box and now I simply need to download the appropriate software.  Yet I feel like the kid in that online car buying TV commercial (no, I don't fast-forward past all commercials, I'm actually an ad geek) where he can perform open heart surgery with a ballpoint pen but is frightened by the prospect of choosing the right vehicle.

I can run with bulls, sky dive or complete a triathlon... but I'm stymied by complicated-looking technology.

This from a guy who works at a video games developer.

To be fair, the actual set-up looks pretty harmless. Download some software, upload my vital stats, sync my heart-rate monitor and I'm done.  At least that's how the manual reads.

But the watch itself, well, it looks like something Batman should wear, not me.  I'm still searching for the hidden button that deploys the grappling hook.  And with all the features it sports, I'm afraid I'll try to get off the treadmill before it's time to do so and the belt will speed up uncontrollably, followed by, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Ryan."

So, that's why I'm procrastinating.  My life may depend on it!

I'll let you know how the set-up goes tomorrow.  I've got a blog to write now.

My schedule called for a brick workout today, spinning with hill climbs for 45 minutes followed immediately by a 30-minute tempo run with hill climbing to elevate my heart-rate to zone 4 (168 bpm).  I woke up at 6 to do it, crossing the darkened, bustling Sepulveda Pass to Equinox -- Gym of the Gods.  (My guest pass membership is expiring.  I am sad.)

The workout itself was uneventful, which is a victory since that meant I wasn't sore at all from Sunday's half-marathon.  Judging by my soaked clothes though, it was a productive workout nonetheless.  I'm finding that I need to work harder to elevate my heart-rate to the zones specified in my training schedule.  In other words, my heart is growing stronger, as is my endurance.  That feels good.

The real highlight of the day was seeing my blog featured in KNBC-LA news anchor (and now friend) Chris Schauble's "Iron News Man" blog.  To read that I'm truly inspiring others and they like what I'm writing -- it's almost overwhelming.  My blog is a labor of love, a "pay it forward" gift to my future family.  But it's becoming bigger than that, thanks to the people who read and contribute energy to it.

That energy is now adding fuel to my every pedal stroke, swim rotation and running stride.  It's permeating into my work, and my personal life.  I am growing stronger, faster, better.  I owe it to the collective energy of my friends and family, and for having an outlet such as this to dive deeply into my consciousness without fear of ridicule, embarrassment or rejection.

Thank you.

Now if only I can get one of you to program my watch.

286 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.

Here Comes Hanukkah!

I finally had a chance to celebrate Hanukkah tonight with my family. It's the last night, so the anticipation had gradually built up all week. As a kid, this was the time where I'd get that one special gift, that one thing that I had been hoping and praying for all season long. The GI Joe hovercraft, for example (man, I coveted that!). In past years, it's closer to underwear and socks as a running joke in the fam, but I always get something I really want or need.

Tonight was no different. My sister and her boyfriend were kind enough to pool their resources and buy me the Surge h20 waterproof headphones and armband combo. As we all know, few things become more repetitive and mind-numbing than lap swimming. At least my rockin' tunes might help shake up the workouts a bit.

My parents apparently have been reading my blog as they bought me a trainer climber for my front wheel and a sweat guard for the head set and frame. And believe me, I really need that! I also received a few shekels toward buying a new watch computer. I'm leaning towards the Garmin 305 at this point. There are some great deals on Amazon.

Maybe the best gift of the night though was the most nostalgic. My parents recently bought a device that records vinyls and converts them to discs or MP3 files. They have a huge collection of records that span from the Beatles and Dylan to Tchaikovsky and in this particular instance, Peter and the Wolf. This story was one of my all-time favorites as a child, so much so that at a Hollywood Bowl live performance with Henry Winkler (The Fonz) serving as narrator, I shouted at him from my seat when he strayed from the script to ad lib. I was 3.

Maybe I can listen to that with the new headphones while doing my pyramid sets on Sunday.

Tomorrow in about nine hours, I've got a casual 2:30-3:30 ride with Valley Coach. Frank Lafuente, my cycling mentor, is joining me. We're riding at 8 a.m. at the Starbucks off Malibu Canyon Road and Agoura Road, if you're local, actually read this blog, and would like to join. We're keeping heart-rate in zone 2 for most of the ride so it should be a nice steady pace.

Happy Hanukkah for me indeed, and I wish the same to all my friends in the virtual world reading this.

340 days and counting.

Just Another Manic Monday

I kinda wish it were Sunday.

I prefer the leisurely trail running session from yesterday to the gasping feeling I had by the end of my hour-long swim early this morning at the Burbank YMCA. I ended up completing the prescribed swim workout, 2,500 yards, in about 1:10. But it felt a lot longer. I feel like a hamster in a cage going back and forth for what amounted to 125 pool lengths in a 20-yard pool. Ugh.

During the swim, I noticed what Coach Gerardo was referring to when he mentioned I swim uphill. I can feel my legs dragging below the surface and it's annoying not to be able to fix it immediately. I was improving on rotating my body though. So perhaps it's one problem at a time.

By the time I got to the office before 9, I felt like it was already 5 p.m. That's because I didn't sleep so well and decided I might as well arise when Trudy and Bam-Bam did, at 5:30 a.m. (BTW, if anyone has any ideas on revenge for these inconsiderate neighbors, I'm all ears.) I realize that I need to change to this sort of schedule to fit all the workouts in before the day begins. It's more practical and allows me to have a little more free time in the evenings. The idea of going to bed at 9:30 p.m. to get a full night's sleep makes me feel like an old geezer though! Some of my friends would tell you I already act like one anyway.

I managed to have a productive day though after eating an entire calzone for lunch. I'm a bit of a calorie monster right now to keep the weight on. I also fit in the second half of my workout after work, light treadmill running and some drill work. Broke a little sweat, but mainly treated it as a recovery exercise.

Another day, another two workouts. Trying to settle into a new routine... I'll get there eventually. Now it's time to wrap up holiday shopping.

344 days and counting.

A Cold (War) Run

I'm beginning to see a pattern in my Ironman training.

The harder it is to get out of bed, the bigger the reward for doing so.

It rained hard last night throughout Los Angeles. HARD. So, once again, early this morning my bed was cozy and the room was super dark. Just the way I like it.

Oh yeah, and it's Sunday. The Day G-d invented for NFL football.

But, training beckoned. So did Coach Gerrardo's brother, Rey. The elder Barrios was leading a small group of Valley Coach and LA Triathlon Club athletes (pictured) on a jaunt through what's called the Nike trail. Surprisingly, it's not an ode to Phil Knight's company, but rather an homage to an ominous monument from the Cold War. It's hard to imagine a time when the US Army felt a need to have missile stations watching over Los Angeles in fear of a Soviet attack. But there the restored structure stands, complete with a creepy abandoned watch post station just off the main trail, along with educational signs. When I walked up the small hill towards the missile launcher, I could almost feel the tension that seemed to choke some of the fresh air out of the crisp morning.

And crisp it was. My fellow LA Tri Clubbers and Valley Coach teammates laughed about the steam rising from our bodies in the 55-degree chill (Weather Wuss alert!) after the scenic 11-mile birds-eye tour overlooking the San Fernando Valley. But it was so worth it. I've lived in SoCal my whole life and in the short few years I've been training for triathlons, I've been delighted to see a side of greater Los Angeles that I didn't think existed.

There's still nature here! Paradise hasn't quite been completely paved, and that parking lot, well, there's still a lot of trails and gravel left to explore.

On a cold, wet, Sunday morning, I couldn't be happier I rolled out of bed early. I hope the next time you're contemplating turning over in that comfy bed to get a few more hours of marginal, guilt-ridden sleep, you'll think first of the unseen world in your backyard that's waiting to be enjoyed.

Rise up. Launch yourself out of bed. You won't regret it. And who knows what hidden monuments you may find.

345 days and counting.