Racing the Rain

What an ominous-looking day in SoCal. From Balboa Park in Encino to Simi Valley, threatening grey clouds and the wind competed with each other for intimidation supremacy.

Fortunately, the Fortius group started our group ride early enough to avoid the raindrops.  My teammates had a six-hour ride today, or approximately 85 miles.  I was lucky, my assignment was "only" four hours with a brief 15-minute run thrown in at the end.

I accompanied the group to Simi before they turned left at Los Angeles Avenue towards Wood Ranch and Thousand Oaks while I continued straight to visit my parents.

That's where the fun began.

I was so excited to see my folks and surprise them that I forgot to take my keys out of the front door lock.

You can imagine my surprise when I arrived back to Encino two hours later with no keys and eight voice mail messages from my parents.

Fortunately, my dad was nice enough to drive out to drop them off, and I bought him and mom breakfast as a humble, embarrassed thank you.

The part in between though, the actual visit, was great.  I enjoyed a quick snack of berries, chatted about the pseudo-high school reunion I attended last night and terrorized mom with my camera.  I promised I wouldn't show the picture below, but I honestly don't think it's that bad. Do you?

I was supposed to show the latter image instead, since it highlights my mom's real pride and joy: her new kitchen.

Back to the ride.  Despite yesterday's trail run and swim, I felt pretty solid on the bike.  The Santa Susana Pass climb becomes easier and faster each time I make it.  The descents do too.  I was certainly ready for the ride to be over by the time the four hour mark ticked off on my heart-rate monitor watch (NO, not the Garmin.  Soon.  Honestly.). Overall, I was pleased with my performance today.  Door-to-door from Simi to Balboa Park on my return trip, with several traffic stops and two brief snack pauses: one hour, 56 minutes.

I'm definitely ready for a nap now though. Or an Epsom salt bath.  Or a massage.  Or bon-bons.

Just anything but more exercise, OK?

Especially if it's going to rain.

275 days and counting.

Take that, Boney Mtn Trail!

Progress in Ironman training, or any kind of training for that matter, comes in many forms.

I can be physically measured, emotionally felt, experienced or visualized.

I was fortunate enough to experience all of these moments during this morning's trail run up Boney Mountain in Newbury Park.

Perhaps the morning was pre-ordained for greatness because I no longer felt the urge to bundle up to avoid the chill.  Like plopping into the pool instead of dipping, I'm finally prepared to handle the cold weather without fear of cramping or getting the chills.  So, in 47-degree weather, I rocked the shorts and T-shirt.  Felt good, too!  Crisp. Light.

The run itself was meant to be a litmus test, though I secretly think the test was rigged. Coach Gerardo didn't allow us to use our runner's watches (in my case, STILL my Polar!) or heart-rate monitors.  We were supposed to run however we felt like running, with "be smart" as the only suggested guideline.  I took that to heart as best I could, but really I felt like an uncaged wild animal from the get-go.  Like I was totally free from the science of the sport and returned to the sheer art and joy of it.

Despite some heavy calves at first, I felt great from the first mile all the way past the 15th, about where we finished.  Physically, I experienced the sensation of gliding along the muddy hills even when I should have felt winded.  Just a couple months ago, during my first Boney Mtn trail experience, I did a lot of walking.  Lots of huffing and puffing too, combined with a shortage of water and proper nutrition.

Last time out, the low-hanging branches and plants that clawed at my legs felt like they were doing their best to push me backwards.

This time, the rain-soaked vegetation reached out to high-five me as I breezed by.

Emotionally, I ran without fear or anxiety.  I knew I belonged in the Fortius training group.  I was part of the team.  I could even help lead it every once in a while.  And it felt good.  Further, the views were spectacular, a steel gray cloudy morning interrupted by patches of teal sky and an apologetic sun for all this wet weather we spoiled Southern Californians have been experiencing.

Speaking of experiencing, I don't think just a couple months ago I could even have run with an understanding of what "be smart" meant.  Though I pushed myself a little hard at parts today -- especially while scampering up the steep hills toward the top of the trail -- I always ran at a measured pace. I was in tune with my heart-rate.  I knew when to push forward, pull back, speed up and slow down.

Never before have I felt so at one with my own body and mind.

And, the visualization, well that's easy.  I can clearly remember parts of my first Boney Mtn trail run where I thought I was in over my head.  The ascents were never-ending.  The terrain caused me uncertainty.  The breaks were too short while the duration between them was too long.

The smile on my face at the top of the peak here is me remembering all those moments and realizing that the person holding the camera this time has changed a lot since then.  On more than one level.

In short, it was a kick-ass run.

And then I swam with Mike for 45 minutes to the tune of 1.25 miles.  Dare I say it was soothing and relaxing?

What's happened to me?

I am becoming an Ironman.

276 days and counting.

Not Much To Report...Yet

Today was quiet on the training front. Tomorrow, not so much.  A three-hour run awaits, rain or shine (currently raining in Southern California).  We're supposed to revisit the Boney Mtn Trail in Newbury Park, but we'll see how wet and wild it is before we venture up the back of the beast.  The most interesting part of the run won't be the terrain condition.  It will be Coach Gerardo's strict instructions not to bring a watch or electronic gear of any kind.  We're supposed to run how we feel.

If that's the case, then I'll be flying. I've had a great couple days!

Today was marked with the final day of the videogames conference I was attending in Las Vegas, along with a fantastic breakfast with my cousin, Hillary.  She's 10 years my senior, though we talk and act like the best of friends.  I thoroughly enjoyed her company.

Tonight was fantastic as well.  More on that some other time though.

It's late.  I must awake early. Trudy and Bam-Bam lurk.  And a big run beckons.

I can't wait!

277 days and counting.

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.

Rockin Bike TT

Wanna know what a cycling time trial feels like? Listen to this. Loud.

Fast.  Manic.  Intense.  Grinding. Rhythmic.  Exhilarating.

This overlooked Smashing Pumpkins tune popped into my iPod shuffle mode playlist en route to work after a highly satisfactory cycling time trial early this morning.

I smiled when it did.  Yep, that's what a cycling time trial feels like, all right.

And a solid time trial it was.  True, the course was perhaps a little flatter and the weather was warmer than my last TT.  But progress is progress, right?  I improved by what appears to be slightly more than a full mile-per-hour, going from just over 20 mph to 21.3 mph.  My heart-rate beats per minute dropped ever so slightly, from 164 to a 163 average.  And I covered more ground in 20 minutes, 6.7 miles to 7.1 miles.  This was after another poor night's sleep and sore quads from the weekend's activities.

No, it's not a true apples-to-apples comparison between time trials.  Still, I'm going to chalk up today's workout to tangible progress.

Now, I pack my bags for a business trip to Las Vegas.  I'll be gone tomorrow through Friday, but intend to blog whenever I can find a moment.  And I'll cram a workout or two in as well.  I've got run and swim time trials to schedule, though there's no lap pool at the hotel. I may have to wait until next week for the swim, though I'm most excited to see the progress I've made in the water considering my recent 100-yard T-pace times.

I wish I had more energy to write longer tonight.  But I'm just beat.  I need a good night's sleep desperately.  Ironically, maybe I'll have to visit Sin City to get it.

280 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.

Special V-Day Gift

I'd like to return today's Valentine's Day gift. Nah, I take that back.

It arrived early, in the form of an 8 a.m. 15-mile uphill run on the dirt Mulholland trail.  Literally, most of the run was uphill.  After yesterday's 58-mile jaunt through the hills of Malibu Canyon, I can only describe the last 3.5 miles of this morning's run as "haggard."  Then, the giving continued in the form of a 3,000-swim featuring two sets of 1,000 yard ascending and descending T-pace intervals.

Thanks, Coach.

All that said, the run was a beautiful one.  I experienced a new trail, a route known as "the Westridge run." It connects with the Nike missile site and descends all the way to Mandeville Canyon near Santa Monica.  The problem, though, is that what goes down must come up.  And the ascent back to the top of Mulholland from the base of the Westridge trail point is a real grind.  But the view is spectacular.  Truly one of those "wow!" moments that stopped me dead in my tracks.  Literally.  I came to a complete halt taking in the staggering view from Santa Monica clear through the South Bay and even downtown LA.

Wow.

The rest of the run was less beautiful.  Primarily because of how steep and occasionally painful it was on the legs.  Fortunately, my Fortius friends made the experience far more enjoyable, with lots of jokes and banter (as you can see in the top image with Christina and Ray goofing off).  Without them, training would be a lot harder.

Like my solo swim, for example.  Going back-and-forth in the pool almost immediately after the run without any support takes a lot of willpower.  It paid off though.  I learned that now I'm routinely able to drop below my 2:05 threshold pace and can consistently hit two minutes or even less.  My fastest today was 1:54, and that was on my last timed 100 of the day.  To be able to pull that off after such a grueling weekend of training is something that this blog allows me to cherish for just a bit, before heading out to the pool tomorrow to do it all over again.

Accomplishments don't seem to last very long in this sport.

Hopefully the memories last longer.

I suppose, then, that this blog is my gift to myself.

Happy V-Day, me.

282 days and counting.

The Music in My Head

	Jane's Addiction - Three Days .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

I've been toying with the idea of adding "soundtracks" to my blogs, to give the emotion behind them a little more dimension.  This is my first post where I'm going to try it out.  Please consider downloading the free tune and listening to it while  and after reading.  I hope it adds something to the experience.  Let me know what you think.

Today, members of the Fortius team (Richard, Paul, Mike, Cynthie and Coach Gerardo) ramped up our base cycling training with a 5.5-hour trek.  We pedaled from Calabasas Commons to the Pacific Ocean and back via Mulholland Road, climbing more than 4,200 feet along the way.  I burned 3,000 calories during the trip.

When you're cycling for that long, a lot can run through your head.  Sometimes, since I don't use an iPod while cycling, I play a mental soundtrack that keeps me fired up and going strong.  Today, I focused on my favorite song of all-time, "Three Days" by Jane's Addiction.  To me, it conveys such a wide range of emotions: Serenity, chaos, anger, exhilaration, bewilderment.  The energy in the music is infectious.  I dare you not to be ready to take on the world after listening to it.

"Three Days" matched how today's ride felt.  The climbs were persistent and intensity-filled.  The downhills were wild, occasionally hairy with traffic in Malibu Canyon, and the views were magnificent.  The weather really cooperated today,too, though I had to shed a thermal jacket, my headband and arm warmers along the way after a chilly start.

And, like the length of "Three Days", the ride was seemingly never-ending.  There's something about cycling for close to three hours and realizing you're only about halfway done.  And that's when you're staring at the glistening Pacific Ocean knowing you need to climb Mulholland Road all the way back to the Valley before the final stretch occurs.  It's hard to appreciate the beauty of the sea when all you can think of is a nine-mile climb that awaits.  But then, at the top of the mountain, the mood changes.  And the frantic downhill rocket ride ensues.

In my head, the song and the road were playing the same tune -- maddening, orchestrated chaos.  The beat served as both taskmaster and pacemaker, imploring me to pedal a little harder for a little longer.

And it worked.  I had a great ride, with enough left in my fuel tank to finish strong and avoid cramping up.

We'll see what pops into my head tomorrow for my 2.75-hour run and 3,200-yard swim that follows.

Hopefully not the theme from Titanic.

283 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.