Night Shift

I remember reading these LA Tri Club dispatch emails last year where people would discuss meeting up in the afternoon to do their brick workouts.  I'd think to myself, "Um, yeah.  Helllooo?!  Some of us work.  That's crazy to just leave work early just for training.  I'd never do that -- it's just excessive."

Today, for the second time in three weeks, I left work early to train in the middle of the afternoon.  Because my workout schedule said I needed to do a brick lasting 2.5 hours.

Never say never.

Of course, I'm arriving into work early to make up the hours, which is nice on a Wednesday following a Tuesday morning workout. It likely will suck tomorrow around 5:30 a.m., when I wake up to visit the pool with the rest of my Fortius teammates.  But at least tonight's workout was fun and rewarding.  I felt fresh on the bike, scampering up Mt. Hollywood at Griffith Park towards Griffith Observatory without my heart-rate taking much of a beating. I felt vastly improved from just a couple weeks ago when I did the same ride more slowly.  I was rewarded at the top with this magnificent view of the Los Angeles basin.

Following the hourlong bike journey, about 15 LA Tri Clubbers and Fortius teammates embarked on an hourlong sunset run through Griffith Park.  We did a lot of climbing, but I handled it well since I was allowed to cross into heart-rate zone 4.  This gave me plenty of room to explore my pacing and threshold.  While I couldn't quite keep up with speedsters Mike and Richard, I felt faster than just a few months ago when I needed to walk a lot more of the course than I did tonight.  Granted, I was limited to heart-rate zone 3 at that stage, but progress is progress.

I gotta be honest.  Throughout the run, it felt like I was playing hooky from school (not that I ever did that, mom).  I'm enjoying this beautiful LA weather with some good friends and pursuing my passion.  I put in a full workday, but what better way to cap it off than to train in the afternoon when it's still light out (for the most part) and the rest of the world slaves away at their desks?  A little guilty?  Yeah, maybe.  Do I care? Nah, not really!

Now, sometimes when I visit the kitchen in our Burbank offices, I gaze towards the Griffith Park hills off in the distance.  I wonder if anyone is running on the trails at that moment.  And instead of thinking they're crazy, I will smile.  I know what it feels like to have that freedom and flexibility.

One day, I'm sure I'll miss not having it.  For now, I'll soak in the moment and enjoy the opportunity.

224 days and counting.

Cheering For a Giant Killer

I swam at 6 this morning.  This meant that The Big One didn't materialize as forecast.  But it was cold out -- just shy of 50 degrees.  I used to hate that kind of condition, but the steam rising from the 80-degree water creates such a mysterious, epic feel that I now look forward to plunging in the pool at that ungodly hour. It's the getting out part that is not so nice.

In fact, I chose not to do my customary second workout immediately after the swim because going from the warm pool to the cold outside makes it hard for me to feel my fingers for the first 10-15 minutes. I simply didn't feel like running -- instead choosing to surprise Stephanie, who was still sleeping at home.  She wasn't expecting me, as evident by her staring at me blankly for a few seconds wondering if she was dreaming or not.  Funny.

After a busy day in the office, I began workout #2 at 6:30 p.m., 12-plus hours later.  Pretty simple stuff, one hour of treadmill running with 20 minutes in heart-rate zone 3. Spacing the workouts apart so much was beneficial as I didn't crash in the middle of the work day from fatigue.  That happened around 5 p.m. instead, which was easier to overcome with a snack of homemade pizza that Steph and her girlfriends cooked together during their weekly "girls night."

The highlight of my training today didn't come from actually working out.  My buddy Rusty is about to compete in his first triathlon.  Rather than start with a sprint and work his way up, Rusty is tackling Ironman New Orleans 70.3 this Sunday.  Talk about just going for it!

I called Rusty to wish him well on his journey.  I think he'll be physically ready and mentally tough.  He's a pretty fast swimmer, and will absolutely annihilate the bike portion.  I encouraged him to wear a heart-rate monitor for the entire race so he can pace himself, especially since he hasn't done an actual triathlon race before.  Rusty has the right overall approach in that he doesn't really have a set time in mind, but rather rough projections of what he should be able to hit in each discipline if all goes well.

I can't imagine jumping straight into the deep end of this sport without prior triathlon experience. Some people thrive that way, like my swim coach and training partner, Megan.  She was telling me this morning on the way into swim practice that she's never done a sprint triathlon and started with a full Ironman.

Is experience overrated in this sport?  Is it better to just go for it and simply do your best to finish a 70.3 or full Ironman without the burden of knowing how tough the challenge really is? It's like the young basketball team that enters the NCAA Tournament not knowing it doesn't belong, only to peel off a string of upsets and advance farther than expected.

My thoughts are with Rusty for the next few days as he acclimates to 'Nawlins.  May he be a giant killer and slay his first 70.3 Ironman without too much pain and suffering.

Meanwhile, I'll resume my training tomorrow with an afternoon brick session at Griffith Park with LA Tri Club and my Fortius friends.  Off to sleep shortly to recover from today.

225 days and counting.

2 For 1 Special

Technology was not my friend last night.  But of course, it was my own doing.  I left my laptop at work and my back-up wasn't able to log-in to my blog site for some reason. Lucky for you, today is a two-for-one special!

As I may have mentioned, I tweaked my right inside knee slightly climbing all those hills at the Wildflower training camp.  So yesterday, I took it pretty easy outside of the pool for my hour tempo intervals run.  Inside the pool, well, that was another story.  My friend and Fortius swim coach, Megan, pushed us hard during our 6 a.m. practice.  Among several drills, we did 10, 100-yard sprints at race pace with 10 seconds to rest between each 100.  My approximate pace was between 1:50-1:55, which if accurate, represents a 10-15-second improvement from my early 2:05 T-pace.  Still, my stroke is a mess.  When I'm not crossing my body on the follow-through, my arms are entering the water too early.  If I'm doing those things correctly, then I'm not rotating enough or kicking from my hips and not my lower legs.  Or keeping my head down.  Or gliding enough.

I have so many things to think about during each stroke, it's amazing I don't drown under the weight and pressure of it all.

Now I know what it must feel like being a professional baseball player at the plate batting against a four-pitch hurler.  Too many things to consider besides just swinging the bat.

Of course, like that baseball player who plays for the love of the game, I drag myself out of bed at 5:30 in the morning because I've grown to love being in the water -- no matter how twisted my technique may be.

There would be no water for me today though.  Instead, I had a brick session.  This was made more complicated since my car is in my father's repair shop for normal maintenance, and my Colnago is in the shop for a tune-up.  The compromise was to ride on the trainer at varying degrees of difficulty for 90 minutes and then immediately running hills for the next 45 minutes.  All before 9 a.m., when I need to race the clock to make it in the office by 10.

The bike ride was largely uneventful, made more enjoyable by catching up on The Pacific on HBO.  (Side note: I feel silly complaining about swim technique after watching a mini-series about the inexplicable hardships the Marines endured during WWII in brutally inhospitable jungles throughout the South Pacific.)

My only real concern is the soreness in my right inside knee.  I've never had knee trouble in my life, but after all the climbing we did at Wildflower I think I strained a quad muscle or hamstring.  The tightness in either muscle is pinching the convergence point of three muscle groups on my knee, reducing my flexibility.  The more I pedaled, and climbed in a higher gear, the more my knee acted up.

What was strange though was that my knee didn't hurt as much when I ran perhaps my most challenging local hill not residing in Boney Mountain or Cheseboro Park.  From my condo on Dickens Street in Sherman Oaks, I climbed Woodcliff Road at Valley Vista all the way to Mulholland Drive.  This was literally 20 minutes straight of steep climbing, approximately 1,200 feet if Google Maps is correct. I don't even know why I chose that route this morning.  Especially with my knee feeling a little funky.  Guess I was bored of the usual 'round-the-block runs I've been doing for more than a year now.  It's great to know that I can make it to Mulholland and back home within 45 minutes at a fairly relaxed pace, especially with Wildflower looming.

The only downside of my training today came not frm the workouts but from the recovery.  I had Abby, our company massage therapist, work on my right leg for 30 minutes just after lunch.  Surprisingly, it felt worse after, tighter, than it did immediately after the run and throughout the morning.  Why is that?  Over the past several hours, my knee has remained tight though it's a little more relaxed now that I'm on the couch typing.

Tomorrow is my training off day instead of Friday. I have a business trip in Northern California. Perhaps the extra day's rest is coming at the perfect time?  I hope so.  I really want to avoid another LA Marathon scenario where I can't perform to my potential at races due to circumstances beyond my control.

I'll remain positive, for now.

232 and 231 days and counting.

An Exclusive Fraternity

I had an interesting conversation with my buddy John this morning. We were talking about industry-related happenings when he asked me how I was doing post-engagement.  I told him that I actually felt different. Like I actually had changed inside just a little.  I had always heard about this mental shift, that "something just clicks" in your brain when you enter into the world of engagement and marriage.

It's true!

No longer is it just about me. While that was really fun for 35 years, I know that I have a far greater responsibility now.  To be a true partner in all aspects of life, putting Stephanie  and her needs at the top of the list with my own.  It means when friends want to visit from out of town, discussing first with Steph before blindly saying "Sure!  Come on over and crash on the couch."  I never used to think in those terms -- didn't have to.  But now, it's instinctive.  We...not me.

John chuckled when I shared this revelation.  "Welcome to the fraternity," he said, adding that there's a tighter bond among married guys than single guys because of thoughts just like this.

Huh.  The strange part is that I thought I was done with fraternities in college.  But I can say I'm as excited to enter this exclusive club as I was my freshman year at the University of Arizona.  The same sense of wonder is there.  Maybe a little anxiety too, of the unknown.  The motivations are different, but just as powerful.

I suppose you could say I'm now a pledge in Mu Delta: Married Dudes.  I'll become an active sometime between next February and July.

***

On the Ironman training front, I had my first brick workout in weeks. Instead of training in the morning though, I waited until the late afternoon, when I joined LA Tri Club and Fortius Coaching members on a 90-minute bike ride up and around Griffith Park followed by a 30-minute trail run.  I held my own but think my heart-rate was a little higher than I'd like, mostly zone 4 for the long hill bike climb that takes you to the Griffith Park Observatory.

I've never ridden up the long hill that passes the Hollywood sign.  The road is in poor shape but the climb is a very good workout.  And the reward -- a postcard view of the Los Angeles basin -- makes it all worth it.

Clearly though, the best part of the workout was having training partners to enjoy it with.  I'm going to shuffle my schedule around in the future to do the Wednesday bricks -- working early in the morning and leaving earlier in the evening.  It makes such a difference not to have to wake yourself up at the crack of dawn to train alone.  Plus, it keeps Steph happy since she knows I'm likely to be safer in a group setting.

And these are the things I want to consider now -- especially since it's likely in the Mu Delta pledge manual.

237 days and counting.

Sluggish

Some words sound just like what they are.  I know there's a grammar term for that, but I don't feel like looking it up.  Ironic statement to follow. Sluggish is one of those words.  If I were an alien from another planet trying to decipher what sluggish meant, I'd think it means to slug through something.  To struggle.  Over-exaggerate.  Over-work.  Or, pop a slug in me, because I'm just about finished.

Any of those terms or phrases would describe my brick workout today.  Whether it was the earlier start (7 a.m.) the semi-cold, dewy morning or just plain fatigue, my legs felt stiff and heavy on the bike.  My brief six-mile time trial portion of the 45-minute spin was close to pathetic, with an average of around 17.5 mph that spanned nearly 21 minutes of pedaling.  Granted, there was more traffic (and therefore slowdowns) than usual.  But c'mon!  Really? Gah.

I quickly transitioned to a 30-minute run, which felt closer to 30 years. Maybe today would have been a good day for music to fire me up a bit.  Honestly though, I don't know if it would have made a difference.  On the positive side, I ran my old jogging route that was my stand-by for all of last year and completed the loop with a much lower heart-rate while maintaining a similar if not greater speed.  So I had that going for me, which was nice.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was fighting with myself. Almost dragging myself around town, whether it was on the bike or my own two feet.  I can't help but wonder if this is the dreaded "over-training" wall people keep telling me about.  Or, maybe it's just a cold, considering I've been fighting an illness for about a week now without really telling anyone.

Don't worry, mom, it's nothing. I'm warm, well-fed, and yes, I'm wearing a sweater.

Anyway, no west for the weary.  Tomorrow I have a swimming time-trial, which I'm mentally looking forward to.  Physically, I hope I can answer the call.  Following the swim, I'll quickly be transitioning to a 45-minute run featuring five, three-minute hard interval runs in zones 4 and 5a.  That's up to 168 bpm, baby.  I hope I can sustain that rate.  Fortunately, my buddy Dustin will be joining me in Calabasas bright and early.

Well, what I really hope is that I sleep in or through my workout.  That I wake up late, saunter to Jinky's for a massive breakfast, and that I don't do anymore training the rest of the week. Nah, make that the rest of the month!

But I won't give in to that kind of sentiment. That's not my m.o.

Besides, I don't do sluggish.

272 days and counting.

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.

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.

Oh Dark Thirty

My body is adapting to Ironman training. I can workout hard during the day, go to sleep a little later at night, and wake up earlier the next day.  Take today, for instance.  I woke up at 5:20 a.m.  Well-rested.  Refreshed.  Not groggy.  On seven hours' sleep.  When my training ramped up in intensity last month, I was sleeping eight to nine hours a night.

Since I was awake so early, I decided to make a push for the pool and cram two workouts back-to-back.  Two brick days in a row.  The swim portion was pretty tough: 2,600 yards with 300 warm-up, 500 drills and then three sets of five 100-yard intervals at T-pace.  Throw in a 300-yard cooldown swim for good measure.  During the intervals, I established a new personal record for fastest 100, 1:48.  My T-pace is usually between 2-2:05.

My buddy Dustin showed up early too, which was nice.  He's been busy with work lately so we got to catch up for a few minutes prior to my workout.  One of my Fortius teammates, Lisa, was also swimming.  She's a rockstar though and had greater distances than me to cover.

After the swim, I quickly swapped clothes and bundled up for a 45-minute interval run.  The main portion consisted of five three-minute intervals keeping my heart-rate between zone 4-5a (up to around 168 bpm).  It took a few intervals to get there, but I did.

I also tried out a new product today: injinji's Performance series tetrasok.  My friend and training partner, Ann, swears by them. So I figured I'd give them a shot. Picture running on mittens for your feet.  The socks are designed to reduce blisters and enhance traction, best used for trail running.  Outside of a little awkwardness trying to fit my little toes into each individual opening, the socks performed fine.  I'll wear them again this Sunday on our group run and share my thoughts.

The best part of the day though, as usual, had nothing to do with the training.  For months, I've been frustrated by not finding a way into the beautiful man-made lake park behind the Calabasas Tennis & Swim Center.  It had what looked to be the perfect running path, but the gates are always locked.  What to do?

I found the entrance inadvertently, by running a much longer path around a block and a new stretch of road I hadn't explored before.  There, I saw the true entrance to the park, with no gates!  At last, I could run with a tranquil morning view of lakefront homes, geese, ducks, swans and the mist rising off the lake.  A beautiful sight indeed (pictured).

Sometimes it takes a roundabout journey down unexpected paths to find the view you've been seeking.

Seems like a running theme lately.

285 days and counting.

Calm Before the Storm

Forget all this triathlon stuff for a second.

I'd like to point out that I correctly predicted the Super Bowl match-ups. That doesn't happen often, even though I listen to sports talk radio during my morning commute and my TV should have the SportsCenter logo burned into the screen by now. So, when I actually get something right like sports picks, I gotta gloat just a little!

OK, now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I had a "leisurely" brick workout today. Leisurely because there were no Fortius group runs or bike sessions, meaning I could actually try to sleep in a little (which I needed after a fun night out last night at my new favorite local hangout, the Blue Dog Tavern). Today's scheduled included a one-hour running time-trial, followed by a one-hour swim featuring two sets of six 100-yard intervals with descending finish times.

This time, like my Super Bowl picks (last time, I promise), I got the time-trial right. My lactate threshold for the latter 20 minutes of the 30-minute run was 168 bpm, which was 13 beats faster than my TT earlier this week. This time, I ran harder while staying within the limits of zone 4 instead of zone 3.

My reward? New HR zones, courtesy of Coach Gerardo. Not by much, but a couple minor adjustments.

My pace was somewhat troublesome. I ran 9:05-minute miles. I know I'm faster than that and I've run much faster in actual races (anywhere from 7:30-8-minute miles). But, I guess I need to keep trusting this "slower is faster" mantra and believe that in the Surf City Half Marathon in a few weeks I'll be faster. It should be a good test.

The swim was terrific. I didn't feel winded except for the two final 100s at the end of each interval set, when I was trying to reach my 2:05 threshold-pace. I hit them each time, but I was pushing a little to get there. At the end of the workout though, I felt relaxed and refreshed -- comfortable knowing I could go for longer if I needed to.

That's probably the biggest difference my training has made over the past two months. I can tackle more training and not feel nearly as tired, sore or winded the next day.

The rest of the day has been relaxing and leisurely. Though as I lay in bed typing, it seems like I spent a good portion of it racing around town trying to get chores done before for the next series of storms hits Los Angeles on Tuesday. I did laundry, got gas, picked up groceries, paid bills, cleaned my bike... and even managed to watch an entire NFL football game. Believe it or not, I've rarely done that this entire summer, fall and winter, thanks to the training schedule.

Surprisingly, that last part hasn't bothered me really at all. I've noticed something different this year about myself. As I grow older, I've realized that I can either sit at home watching other people do amazing things on television, or I can go out and try to do amazing things myself. And when you realize what amazing feats your body is capable of -- which I firmly believe is true for all of us, watching TV becomes less and less appealing.

Maybe that's why in marketing the coveted 18-34 year-old demographic ends at 34 and not 35.

And with that, I kill the lights and call it a weekend.

304 days and counting.

Equinox: Gym of the Gods

There is a spa masquerading as a gymnasium, nay, a Valhalla, where your every possible fitness want and need is catered to.

It is the gym of the gods.

It is called Equinox.

Massage? Check. Lap pool? Check. Spin cycles? Check. Eucalyptus-scented cold towels? Check. Sauna? Check. Kiehl's soap products in the showers? Yep, got that too.

I have never been to a gym quite like Equinox. And I've been to a lot of gyms over the years. Anat is a member there and invited me to join her early this morning since we both had a swim scheduled in our respective training programs.

Equinox is so impressive that 5:30 a.m. actually can't come soon enough should I train there again. The locker rooms are luxurious. The equipment is cutting edge. Attendants leave you towels by the pool deck. And the view at the Westwood facility, located in my old office space when I worked at Porter Novelli, is spectacular.

What a morning! What a workout.

Today's training was actually fairly tame but still productive. I did 45 minutes of cadence-based swimming, and lowered my strokes per minute down to 48 at one point. This was two strokes less than the last time I tried this, though both Anat and I were contemplating whether the lanes felt closer to 20 yards rather than the customary 25. Following the swim, I spun on the stationary bike for another 45 minutes, with five, three-minute intervals in zone 3 heart-rate. Somewhat surprisingly, this drill was harder than expected. I was pretty well spent by the fifth interval.

Once I completed the brick workout, I was almost saddened that it was time to leave for work. The steam room beckoned. A massage too. I couldn't tell if I was at Burke Williams or a gym. The thought crossed my mind to skip work and hang out at Equinox. So, I settled for a shower that was more refreshing than my own at home, complete with cedar-plank floors and all the best soap products.

Yes, I realize how metro sexual I sound right about now.

And I totally don't care. If you've been to Equinox, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Tomorrow is my day off from training. I may just head back to Equinox and try to sneak in. If there's a nap room open at night so I can escape Trudy and Bam-Bam's pounding, I'm checking into the Hotel Equinox, and you better bring a team of ninjas to check me out. Because I'm not going to go quietly.

307 days and counting.