Big Brick

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I embedded the details of my Sunday brick in the post above.  I can't figure out how to embed in the post properly yet.  But I think the duration of the workout (hopefully) speaks for itself. Of course, it was yesterday's workout -- not today's.  I was so busy powering through a five-hour brick and rushing to a neighborhood potluck dinner and then rushing to my buddy TJ's house to catch the finale of The Pacific (best one of the series) that by the time I got home...I had zero energy to blog last night.

I apologize to both of you who read this blog daily.

I'm back now, with a vengeance.  Actually, it's just a quiet night at home and an off-day for training.  I didn't get one last week so today's is most welcome.  Though my legs feel like lead after climbing 5,663 feet on the bike in Malibu, swimming a mile in 57-degree ocean water and lightly jogging a couple miles after the bike. I hope I don't sink to the bottom of the pool tomorrow morning with our Fortius team swim!

I learned a few things during yesterday's epic day of climbing Encinal and Piuma canyon roads.  They were probably more powerful observations as they were occurring in the heat of the moment, but at least 24 hours of rumination  can distill things down to their core.  So here goes:

-- Hill climbs are getting easier.  As you can see by the speeds involved, Mike, Karen, Frank, Richard and I weren't going too fast up any of the hill climbs. But, outside of the latter part of Piuma, my heart rate remained low and steady.  I never felt winded, except at the top of Piuma as massive blankets of fog rolled over the mountain peaks directly overhead, sending headwind blasts directly in our path.  I think the best way to build stamina on the bike is long, slow, and steady hill climbing.  Rinse, wash, repeat.

-- Cycling is a dangerous sport.  Two friends of mine, one of them being Anat, went down in accidents this weekend.  Neither accident was their fault nor could have been prevented.  Anat crashed on Pacific Coast Highway, which further gives me the jitters because of the number of people who crashed their last year.  I used to think that road was among the safest and most scenic.  Now I realize it's probably safer up steep hillsides than down by the ocean. Please, ride with caution on PCH.  Don't follow too close.  Watch the car doors.

-- Ocean swimming gets more and more enjoyable with more and more practice.  Many of my friends don't understand how I can enjoy ocean swimming.  There are the creepy crawly critters, for instance.  The polluted water.  The tides.  The seaweed.  The sand.  You know what?  Once you get past the surf, it's calm.  Once you channel out the cold, it's comfortable.  Once you accept your peaceful insignificance in the giant ocean, swimming is a total joy.  It's rhythmic.  Hypnotic.  And something I never thought I'd say a couple years ago.  Further, if you're training for an Ironman with a large open-water swim, I suggest swimming in some really cold water at some point before your race just to be mentally prepared.

-- My friend Karen is really improving on the bike!  After Frank bowed out of the climb due to mechanical problems with his shifting cables and Richard went home due to a bum knee, Karen braved riding alone behind Mike and me.  And she not only did so admirably, but Karen outright powered up Piuma -- only .25 miles behind Mike and me at the summit.  On the steep descents, something she's admittedly uncomfortable with, Karen kept up.  I was super proud of her and impressed.  It's really nice to see improvement happening right before your eyes.  Karen's one of my favorite triathletes because she embodies the spirit of the sport.  She's tenacious and flat-out battles through anything.  I can relate to that mentality and have that much more respect for it as a result.

There's much more I could write but I'm shutting it down for the night.  I've got another busy week ahead and a 6 a.m. date at the pool.  Good night everyone!

192 days and counting.

The Best Training is Sometimes the Slowest

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I woke up early this morning for an event.  It even had a starting gun and a finish.

Yet I wasn't racing.  I wasn't even running.

And it was just as much fun.

Stephanie helped organize a small team of her co-workers to attend a walk-a-thon in El Segundo for the Make-A-Wish Foundation.  Instead of my normal training routine, I decided to switch my long bike and run around so I could support her.  Joined by Stephanie's friends Erica and Adam, we had a great time -- even if it was only a two-mile walk.  Actually, it was really nice NOT to launch myself out of the starting area and sprint as fast as I could.  I got to enjoy the scenery a bit more, relax a bit more, chat a bit more.  And maybe even appreciate a bit more.  The whole point of the walk was to raise money for kids who are faced with terminal illness.  The least -- make that the very least -- I can do is flip my schedule around to support the cause.

I'm always grateful for being healthy and strong enough to pursue this crazy sport.  Sometimes I'm even grateful enough to realize how good it is to be merely alive and healthy.  This morning was one of those moments for the latter.

Sometimes the best form of training can come in the slowest of forms.

194 days and counting.

Freaky Friday

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My morning workout went haywire today.  It went so far off the rails that even Amtrak would be like, "Damn!" It started innocently enough when my Garmin watch ran out of juice on the first lap of what was supposed to be my first track workout.  No problem. I'll work out later, I thought.  I went to go pick up the water bottle I stashed on the bleacher's at VNSO park...it was gone!  After one lap around the track!  Less than five minutes into my run.  Seriously?  Who steals a water bottle?  I looked around incredulously when I saw a parks and recreation golf cart riding away with the driver mimicking my "what in the world?!" gesture with my arms.  Wow. Whatever.

Then, on the way home, I turned right on Van Nuys near Ventura onto a street with a "no right turn on red" sign.  The light had turned green.  I got pulled over anyways...by a friggin' bike cop!  Seriously?  Is this really happening? I couldn't hide my contempt, shouting "You've got to be kidding me!" when the cop told me to pull to the right.  I gave this guy a ton of crap, until he pointed out that the sign was actually no right turns at all from 7 to 9 a.m.

Oh.

Still though, with the California budget crisis, the police department has clearly turned to chickenshit tickets as a way to pay the bills.  Fortunately, after a raging outburst that evoked the scene in Shawshank Redemption with Morgan Freeman and the parole board, the cop let me go without a ticket.

Who said fighting against The Man doesn't pay off every once in a while?

I finally did get my workout in tonight at 5:30 p.m.  The session called for six, 400m sprints with 200m recovery intervals.  I held steady between 1:32-1:38 and 170-177 bpm.  I don't know if this is considered "good" since it was my first time out.  What I do know is that if I were to hold that pace for a mile I'd be able to roughly run a 6-minute mile. That would rock!  We'll see what Coach Gerardo says.

That wasn't even the highlight of the workout though.  The final 10 minutes called for running barefoot slowly in the grass.  It's amazing what a sensation can do to spark a hidden sense of nostalgia.  Almost immediately upon feeling the grass on my feet and toes, I was taken back to childhood and running in my front yard, playing in the sprinklers with my mom watching.  I couldn't stop thinking about childhood the entire time I was running barefoot.  It was nice to go back to that place. I didn't realize how easy it was to get there.

All in all, it was a great day. It just started off on very shaky ground.

195 days and counting.

200 Days to Go: What I've Learned So Far

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OK, it's 196 days and counting, but I've been thinking about this post for four days now.  That counts for something, right? I've written 159 blog posts, not including this one.  Which means I've trained for Ironman Arizona slightly longer than that.  I had some basic observations at the 50 post mark that are pretty quaint.

One-hundred posts later, what have I learned?

Here's my updated Top 10 Things I've Learned About Ironman Training.  For those of you reading, I'd sure love to see your top 10!

10) Better equipment can make a difference.  See yesterday's blog post.

9) Triathlon is an f-ing expensive sport!  See yesterday's blog post.

8 Compression apparel works.  My calves feel more refreshed when I wear them.

7) Writing a blog post every day is a lot like training for a triathlon.  You have to pace yourself, realize that some days are better than others, and that it's a largely solitary endeavor.

6) Triathlon is much more enjoyable when it's a team effort.  Not just a triathlon team or club, but when you have a partner actively supporting and encouraging you. Thanks, Steph.

5) You get much more out of triathlon than what you put in in terms of caring and sharing.  But the latter feels better.  Wildflower taught me that.

4) The mind is so much more powerful than any muscle in the body.  I've overcome hunger, pain, and illness to finish what I've started.  My willpower has grown during this journey as much as my stamina or strength.

3) Increased intake of fruits and vegetables can replace multivitamins -- thanks to stuff I didn't previously like that I now crave (oranges, avocado, tomatoes).  I stopped taking a daily multivitamin weeks ago after increasing my berries and orange intake.  I haven't felt an energy dip.

2) I am really damn competitive.  I kinda knew that already, but this sport has shown me that I'm almost obsessive about it.  Can't tell yet if it's a positive or negative.  I suppose it depends on what my willpower is telling me.

1) Triathlon training or races cannot be taken for granted.  Anything can happen.  Bad weather.  Unexpected equipment malfunctions (not of the Janet Jackson variety).  Illness.  Injury.  Every opportunity to train is a gift.  I now treat it accordingly.

196 days and counting.

My New Partner In Crime

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Batman had Robin. Knight Rider had K.I.T.

Robert Redford had Wonderboy.

Speed Racer had...uh...Speed Racer?

I have Charlie, my new triathlon bike.

She's light (17.6 lbs without water bottles), pretty and packs a punch.  I took Charlie out for her maiden voyage earlier today at Griffith Park for a rare morning brick session.  While I covered roughly the same ground I usually do in an hour, I did so with far less effort.  I never felt taxed, my heart-rate rarely crossed into heart-rate zone 3 yet I routinely gained at least 2 mph from my normal average when I decided to step on the gas a bit.

More important, I felt really comfortable on the bike.  I can't emphasize how important a proper bike fitting is.  Though it took my fitter at Helen's Cycles, Paul, about a solid hour to get it right (my fault given my scoliosis, sloped shoulders, and unequal leg lengths) the investment was well worth it.  I could sense the additional power transfer from my legs to my feet to the pedals.  At the same time, I felt like I was resting comfortably on the aero bars.  Right now, my hamstrings are a bit tight from being in that new aero position, but otherwise I feel great -- especially considering I ran an hour afterwards and worked a full day in the office.  Usually by this time, I'm fairly tired and ready to go home for some rest.  I believe I have more energy now by being able to conserve more this morning.

Back to the run.  I ran faster than usual and covered more ground while keeping my heart-rate comfortably in heart-rate zones 2 and 3.  Even though I crept high into the latter, I never felt taxed or even at the start of heavy breathing.  Usually a brick of this nature would sap my strength and stamina.

But not with Charlie.

I feel like this new piece of equipment will make a noticeable difference in my overall performance come race time.

While I love Monica, my road bike, I think Charlie and I were meant to be.

Don't worry, Stephanie.  I know it's only a bike.

Just don't tell Charlie that.  And don't tell Monica either.

197 days and counting.

PS: I've been meaning to write about what I've learned over these past 100 days.  This is a self-reminder to hopefully do that tomorrow.

Wiped Out

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Never take a workout for granted. I packed my bag last night for two workouts: The usual 6 a.m. swim coached by Megan, followed by my first track workout.

And why not?  I haven't missed a workout due to being physically unable to complete it (outside of illness) since I first started training with Fortius last year.

That streak is now over.  Either because of the swim workout's intensity or because this past weekend's training caught up with me. Maybe a little bit of both.  Either way, I struggled mightily all day to find the energy to complete the second workout.  It never showed up.  I came home from work, tried to take a nap knowing full well that Bam-Bam would do everything possible to prevent that (he did so admirably, the little shit), and have basically remained planted on the couch since 5:30 p.m.

Instead of forcing the issue, I texted Coach Gerardo to tell him I'm skipping the track session.  We're adjusting my workout schedule to squeeze it in this Friday, my usual day off.  That's now been moved to this coming Monday.

So what caused my exhaustion today?  I slept well enough (seven hours), wasn't stressed out and even got a little yoga and stretching in before bedtime last night.

Hmm...let's take a look at the swim (55 minutes):

-- 300 warmup (I think, maybe more)

-- 100 kick, 50 any stroke x 2

-- 250 x 2 fast (1:00)

-- 500 race pace

-- 100 sprint x 5 (1:00)

-- 200 any stroke cooldown

It's not a ton of yards, but the intensity definitely took its toll.  I was in a faster lane than usual with Bob and Lisa, two much faster swimmers.  I was also bothered by my goggles today, which kept leaking water into my eyes and caused me to lose focus from concentrating on my stroke.  In the end, I just never quite felt right in the water, not until the final two sprints of the morning.  By then, I was pretty gassed.  Yet it was my turn to lead one of the last sprint 100s since there were four of us in a lane.  I poured everything I had into making sure I didn't slow down the group.  The good news is that nobody passed me.  The better news is that according to Bob, each of our 100s was in the low 1:30s, meaning I can hold that threshold for 500 yards if need-be.

The bad news is that I'm exhausted on a couch instead of logging my second workout.

Tomorrow's a new day though.  And a very exciting one at that.  I'll be taking out Charlie, my TT bike, for her maiden voyage.  This will be part of a morning brick instead of the usual Griffith Park LA Tri Club afternoon workout.  Stephanie and I have plans to attend the Ben Folds concert tomorrow night.

Now it's off to take a recovery bath and get some much needed rest.

198 days and counting.

Makeshift Yoga Studio

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Stephanie and I opened our own yoga studio tonight, Dickens Downward Dog Yoga.

It's located right here in Sherman Oaks, in my bedroom, in fact.

(Yes Dad, you can keep reading.  This is a G-rated blog.)

Steph and I both had a long day and night, yet both of our schedules called for an hour yoga session.  The only way we could make it work was to use a DVD.  Of course, Steph made my room feel just like a yoga studio, complete with dim lighting, candles and music.  All that was missing was incense, which I can live without.

I find that yoga at the end of the day is hard.  Especially before bedtime and about an hour after dinner.  Concentration is low, although relaxation is at its highest.  The DVD, by Mark Blanchard, didn't help.  Both Steph and I were stymied at times by the complexity of the poses.  I had to retreat to Child's Pose a few times and by the end of the workout completely ignored the DVD to work at my own pace with more mellow poses.

Maybe that's the point of yoga.  There's no wrong way to do it.  There's no being overwhelmed.  It's how you respond to the poses being suggested that matters.  Instead of forcing the pose, as is often the case in life, sometimes it's best to simply choose a more comfortable pose altogether.  It's one thing to push outside of a comfort zone.  It's also just as valuable to know when to remain within the friendly confines of comfort.

At 10 p.m. on a Monday night, comfort won out.

There's nothing wrong with that.

"There's nothing wrong with that."

Perhaps that will be the new mantra of our new studio.

I like that sound of that.

Dickens Downward Dog Yoga is closing for the night.

Namaste.

199 days and counting.

Fitting it All In

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I don't know how my married friends do it. How do you find the time to juggle your family and personal lives, along with the lives of your kids?  I got a small taste of it today and am even more in awe of  my Fortius teammates who balance it all almost effortlessly -- while still completing multiple triathlons and Ironman events!

Besides train in the morning with several Fortius teammates including Richard and Ray (both pictured separately), this afternoon was consumed by shopping for furniture with Stephanie and begin discussion about the wedding list.  I'll admit that my head is spinning a bit just from that.  And not because it was an unpleasant experience -- quite the opposite.  I actually really enjoyed it, but not for reasons you might think.  Aside from planning a vacation together and choosing to marry each other, making furniture purchases represents the first major joint financial decision in our relationship.  The process went very smoothly, even though we discovered that our tastes in style and decor may be different (no, I don't think dogs playing poker should be our mantel piece!).  I was very pleased how we communicated and deliberated.  Ultimately, we didn't buy anything today, but I'm confident we set the foundation for making good choices we both can be happy with when the time comes.

Anyways, I'm sitting here at the end of a long day -- after swimming a mile, running for 10, visiting nearly a half-dozen furniture stores and analyzing our first pass at the wedding list -- wondering how in the hell people with kids find the time to be an Ironman.  How do you orchestrate having a life while managing the lives of others?  I'm thinking all this knowing that Stephanie and I really didn't do anything today in the grand scheme of things yet it's 10 p.m. and time for bed.

Where did all the time go? Today felt like a blur.  Thank goodness for this blog to remind me one day!

Will there be more hours in the day when we have a family to fit everything in?

I know it seems like I'm stressed out.  Honestly, I'm not.  I'm simply aware how good I have it right now, knowing how pressed for time I may be down the line if I continue to train for triathlons and perhaps more Ironman events.  Something's gotta give eventually, and I think I know what it will be.

Sorry, kids!

(Steph, that was a joke...)

200 days and counting.

Hammerin' the Conejo

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This morning, Team Fortius participated in the 26th annual Cruisin' the Conejo bike ride across the Conejo Valley.

My ride was closer to "Hammerin' the Conejo."  The whole cruising part just didn't work out so well today.  Not that you're really surprised.

The ride was a last-minute (but very welcome) addition to our training schedule.  And to get it out of the way up front, I recommend this ride for anyone looking to see the Conejo Valley at its finest.  The route is fairly easy for riders of all levels. We didn't do a ton of climbing, most of the ride was flat, the wind was moderate and the temperature never got hire than the upper 70s. The rest stops, course marking and organizers are first-rate.  And as far as organized group rides in Southern California, I'd definitely put it ahead of the Cool Breeze Century in Ventura.

David, my teammate and friend (and sports massage therapist) and I chose the 68-mile "moderate" metric century, which would take us from Newbury Park to Westlake, into Oxnard, Camarillo, through Moorpark and my hometown of Simi Valley and back to Thousand Oaks/Newbury Park.  The climbing was moderate, but the pace was not.

We started the ride at 8 knowing we needed to be back in Los Angeles by 2 p.m. since David had a massage client at 3:30.  We knew we'd make our deadline if we were efficient on the bike.  Had we not had places to be and things to do, I think today's ride would have been a lot more mellow.  That, and David had a friend, John, who joined us.  John was a big guy who, in David's words, "liked to go fast."  I didn't realize how fast until we quickly lost at least three packs of riders on the course with us.

In fact, literally not one person passed all three of us for an extended period.  And, of course, my competitive side coming out BIG-TIME, absolutely nobody passed me on the course during my ride.  Once we realized we were among the best cyclists on the course, David, John and I made a friendly gentlemen's pact that nobody would pass us.  All day.  My kind of challenge.  Our piss-and-vinegar approach manifested itself the most during a roughly 10-mile stretch on Las Posas Road coming from Camarillo into Moorpark.  We formed a pace line and seriously hammered.  Coach Gerardo will see this soon enough via my Garmin 310x data, but let me just note up front I spent way more time than I should have in zone 5 on the heart-rate monitor.  I was in a cycling trance today.  That's the only way to describe it.  When I expressed my concern to David that maybe we were pushing too hard, he calmly noted that "it's good to get in a little speed work every once in a while."

Noted.  And check.

We took the pedal off the metal in Moorpark and into Simi Valley, where I had a visitor pop by to say hello: My father. He met us on the same road I used to bike as a kid with a Haro mountain bike when I'd gather the nerve to venture from Simi into the next time.  I remember vividly those afternoons with Frank and Jeremy, when we'd think we were practically like Magellan wondering if the world was indeed flat.  What's beyond the next town? What if we don't make it back by dark?  What if we get a flat tire?  Oh, the excitement!  Oh, how it was only 13 miles yet felt like 68.

Oh, how nice it was to ride on that road again for the first time in 20 years and think about how far I've come, and how lucky I was to be able to enjoy such a moment with my dad.

After Dad left, we ambled up Olsen Road and battled a headwind before rallying for the last stretch down Thousand Oaks Boulevard and onto Hillcrest Drive.  One rider in an Amgen kit tried to stay with John and me.  I was having none of it.  Not that far into the ride without having anyone pass.  This guy tried to pass me twice and on both occasions I floored it, the second time looking directly at him, smiling and saying "nice push" before dusting him the final two miles into the parking lot.

We rode 68 miles in just about 3:46, or an 18 mph pace.  We were on our road bikes since it was a group ride, so I'm very eager to give my TT bike a go and see if I can improve upon that, minus the elevated heart-rate.

I know I need to curb this competitive fire right now.  I've got so many more months of training and it's all about pacing and patience.

But I just couldn't help myself today.  Fortunately, there were some great recovery tools available at the end of the race...err...tour.  I was stretched out by a chiropractor truck and then David, John and I were treated to electro-therapy for 15 minutes to restore blood flow to our aching leg muscles.  What a trip!  My legs looked like they had a mind of their own the way they were dancing from all the electricity pulsating through them.  But I can say it worked.  My legs feel fine, and I can also partially attribute that to the 2XU compression calf sleeves I wore on the ride.  I can definitely tell a difference now when I wear them in terms of recovery and stability in my legs.  It might be a little mental (hey, so am I!), but I swear the compression tech works.

It had better.  I've got a swim with the LA Tri Club tomorrow along with a 1.75 hour running session.  I will have to take it a little easy on the run, I'm sure.

Unless someone faster tries to pass me.

Just kidding, Gerardo.  Kind of.

201 days and counting.