1,000 Yard Stare Saturday

I've got the 1,000-yard stare down cold today.  That unmistakable look worn by those who have pushed themselves either to their physical or mental limits, or both. Four hours on the bike with a monster climb followed by an hour run can do that.  (Thank goodness I opted to bring the road bike today and not the tri bike!)  I haven't uploaded the Garmin data yet, but I think I burned north of 2,000 calories today.  The amazing thing to me is that I didn't even come all that close to completing a 70.3-mile distance and I'm pretty spent.  Granted, I dipped into heart-rate zone 5 on the bike and zone 4 on the run a little too.  But still, I didn't swim, biked two miles longer than the standard Half-Ironman 56 miles, and essentially ran half of a half-marathon.  Total time: roughly 4:50.

I know I'll be fine in less than two months when the starting gun at Vineman goes off.  But getting to that point now is harder than I realized.  I'm climbing a new fitness peak after plateau-ing the past few weeks.

Speaking of climbing, my Fortius teammates and I slogged our way up the big peak on Portrero Road.  Most people carefully steer down that road at very cautious speeds.  The climb was most certainly the steepest I've ever encountered, and it didn't help that I was accidentally in my big ring -- which I didn't realize until the peak when I started my descent and tried to switch into that gearing.  Darn it, I was already there!  That would explain the 35-45 rpms up the hill and feeling like I was going to tip over at any moment. The upside, of course, was the next big climb of the day -- "baby" Portrero hill by Sly Stallone's house -- was much, much easier.

The "toughest luck of the day" award went to none other than Fortius teammate and friend Mike.  He got a flat as we started our big Portrero climb... and then a bee flew into his helmet on the way down the hill and he got stung on the head!  As weird as that sounds, almost exactly the same thing happened to me in 2008 when I was a rookie rider with the San Fernando Valley Bike Club.  The only difference was that I got stung by a yellow jacket, and I was all alone.

For me, the best part of today's bike ride was cycling on some of the roads on tomorrow's final stage of the Amgen Tour of California.  The same streets I ride on regularly will now be considered holy as the likes of Cavendish, Shleck, Zebriskie, Leipheimer and all the other amazing pros blast through them.  I can't wait for them to show me how it's really supposed to look.

That's all I got for today.  I'm going to watch the Amgen Tour of California time trials on Versus, go to Fortius Coach Ray's house to try on our new K-Swiss sample racing team kits (woohoo!) and get ready for Stephanie to head back into town after a night out in Palm Springs with her best friend.  Go go go!

One last note.  I'm inside of six months until Ironman Arizona on November 21.  Yet my blog countdown is WAY off.  I'm nine days off.  So, I'm resetting my countdown clock to 179 days and counting with this post.

Wait for it...

179 DAYS AND COUNTING!!! Less than six months to go!

You Might Be a Triathlon Addict...

Remember Jeff Foxworthy's hilarious "you might be a redneck..." rants? I think I've got a variation, albeit a slightly less humorous one.  It came to me just now while I was sitting on my couch(on my day off from training) watching Stage 6 of the Amgen Tour of California...for the second time today.

"You might be a triathlon addict..."

Here goes:

You might be a triathlon addict if you watch the live online stream of a cycling race and then go home to catch the HD TV version, just for the amazing views and cyclist interviews.

You might be a triathlon addict if you realize that shaving your chest is no longer "manscaping" but rather a necessary step to reducing your swim time.

You might be a triathlon addict if you spend 30 minutes in a Sports Chalet to pick out the perfect swimsuit...since the last two were thrown out mercifully by your fiancee because people could see your butt crack.

You might be a triathlon addict if five minutes in a bike shop for Co2 cartridges turns into 30 minutes because you're debating whether you should put anything but Italian components on an Italian-made frame.  The answer is no.

You might be a triathlon addict if you get just as geeked up meeting and befriending an age-group triathlete pro as you would a football, baseball or basketball star. That happened to me this week, courtesy of Caleb Sponholtz on Team Sirius.

You might be a triathlon addict if you're planning to leave work early on Monday to meet Mark Cavendish at a local bike shop.

You might be a triathlon addict if you check the waitlist for the Vineman 70.3 practically daily even though you know the likelihood of being admitted to the race is all but guaranteed and has been for weeks. Better safe than sorry, I say.

You might be a triathlon addict if you sob like a melodramatic teen girl watching the Ford Ironman World Championships DVD.  Did that earlier this week.

You might be a triathlon addict if in your free time you link corporate sponsors up with elite amateur and pro triathlete teams.  Been doing that with Jack Black's Performance Remedy line of men's skin care products.

You might be a triathlon addict if you think of multi-tasking like transition times, looking for every possible opportunity to shave unnecessary wasteful time out of your day.

You might be a triathlon addict if you shave your legs.

Guess I'm not a triathlon addict then!  Ha!

Yet.

188 days and counting.

Refrigerator is Closed

I remember with great fondness watching Lakers games as a kid.  And as much as I'd like to say that's because of Magic, Worthy, Byron, Kareem and Cooper, my real favorite was listening to Chick Hearn announce every game with his unmistakable style and flair. Nothing could beat his signature sign-off when the Lakers were about to put another opponent away in the waning moments. "The refrigerator is closed, the butter's hard, the eggs are cooling and the jello's jiggling!"

As I flop on the couch after a rather challenging few days of training, I realized my body feels like the contents of Chick's kitchen.  My legs are hard, like lead.  My muscles are aching, twitching, moving all over the place like jello.

The door is closed!  It's over.  I'm done.

Day off tomorrow...thank goodness!

Today's workouts, combined with not enough sleep from the night before, have left me drained.  I completed a 1,000 yard time-trial at the end of my Fortius swim this morning at 6.  The good news is that I shaved at least 25 seconds off my last time trial of the same distance, good for a new T-pace of 1:57 (compared to 2:00-2:05 when I first started).  I'm convinced I can swim a faster 1,000, but just prior to the time trial I had finished 9 x 100s at easy, medium and fast intervals with only :30 rest at end of each fast set.  When I returned home to eat breakfast, I fell asleep for 45 minutes before rallying to get to work on time.

Tonight, my run consisted of cruise intervals featuring 3 x 8-minute build-ups to heart-rate zone 4 and 5a.  The beginning of the run felt like the end of most of my workouts -- it took a solid 15-20 minutes to get relatively loose.  But, I rallied and did the work.  Sometimes, that's what I think this is all about.  Simply acknowledging the pain and moving past it.  Overcoming.  Outlasting myself and creating a new threshold.

That's victory enough.

***

I can't help but comment on the Lance Armstrong-Floyd Landis controversy.  A few of my friends and family have asked me what I think, since I'm their resident "crazy cycling expert."  Here's my take:

Cycling is an allegedly dirty sport.  While it seems to have been cleaned up a fair amount, doping is a constant problem. And it was probably worse over the past several years.  That said, I really want to believe Lance. He's essentially the last of the sports heroes out there that people can look up to as an inspiration.  He has given thousands upon thousands hope, and that means a lot.  That said, if cycling was filled with dopers and dirty experiments, and you had one man absolutely dominate that sport during that period...how can you not at least wonder how he did that completely clean?  Now I totally get that his VO2 threshold is much higher than anyone else's.  I get he's a cancer survivor and can deal with pain on a level that most everyone else on the planet cannot.  Still, is that alone enough to dominate the way that Lance has during his career?  I honestly don't know.  Part of me doesn't want to know.  I want to be entertained.  I want to be amazed.  And as sad as it is to say, sometimes I just don't want the curtain pulled back too far to show what's really going on.  My entire childhood of sports heroes has been mowed down because they all did drugs of various types.

Can't I just have one guy left to look up to?

Please, Lance, please be telling the truth.

189 days and counting

No Down Time

I need to work on my transition times.

I've been going non-stop since 6 this morning.  Did a 2.25 hour brick this morning (getting more comfortable on the tri bike, though hills are tougher than expected!) followed by a full day at work, picked up Stephanie for a Dodgers game (total snooze-fest loss to the Padres) and just walked in the door now.  It's 11:10 p.m.

I have to be up at 5:45 a.m. for swim practice.

Clearly, my transition times are holding me back from accomplishing more in the day. I need to shave time from somewhere.

What's that?

Cut back on my activities?  Or my training?

Preposterous.

190 days and counting.

I WILL Finish

If you are a triathlete, are thinking of doing your first triathlon, know a triathlete and wonder why the hell we do what we do, or have a penchant for the dramatic, then you must watch the 2009 Ironman World Championships DVD. I thought the DVD was a consolation prize for not being selected in the 2010 Kona Ironman lottery.  How wrong I was.

A few weeks ago I started watching the DVD during a bike trainer session.  This morning, I finished the video.

Maybe it's better put that the DVD finished me.  I was emotionally drained as they showed the final few finishers cross the line -- staggering, delirious, pained.  Some joyous for barely making the cut-off time.  Others absolutely crushed for missing their goal after spending 17 hours trying their best.  The Ironman can be quite cruel. Trying your best simply isn't good enough -- if you don't hit that 17-hour deadline, it's as if you didn't even show up.

Watching competitors' dreams either exalted or annihilated tore me apart.  I sat on the couch eating breakfast, feeling a wall of emotion flood my eyes.  The tears started pouring down my face as footage was shown of a man with one leg completely breaking down on the final few miles of the marathon, even with his entire family trying to encourage him with every step.  Another woman, 76, called her friend to pick her up during the bike ride because she was having trouble maintaining her balance.

All these tales led me to do things in front of a TV I don't normally do.  I clapped with people finished.  I shouted encouragement as if I was in the stands.

And I found myself repeating one phrase over and over until I was practically sobbing: "I WILL finish."

"I WILL finish."

"I WILL FINISH!"

"I WILL finish."

I can't tell if I was trying to convince myself I'd finish my Ironman no matter what, or that I was above the physical and mental breakdowns and those images of demise and dejection won't touch me that day.  I think it's a little bit of both.

It doesn't really matter though.  What struck me as the DVD ended was just how vested I am in this journey.  It is a statement about who I am.  A competitor.  And I want this so damn bad.  I really hope nothing will stand in my way on November 21.  But if it does, I will most certainly remember this morning on the couch.  I will remember the tears.  The visions.  My solitary oath.

I WILL FINISH.

191 days and counting.

May 16 Malibu Brick Workout Details

Untitled by ryanps74 at Garmin Connect - Details.

Big Brick

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

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

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

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.