Choco-Power

I've written about my triathlon exploits after eating pizza. Now I can add red velvet cake to my growing list of Things That Are So Bad They Make Me Perform Better. My friend Jennie sent me a birthday cake today that must have come close to weighing 10-12 pounds.  As you can see, it was pure decadence.  Creamy, cold white frosting with rich red, chocolate goodness.  Each slice took up an entire paper plate!  I was very good, I "only" ate a full piece about two hours before my Wednesday evening Griffith Park brick with the LA Tri Club and Fortius team members.

And it seemed to have paid off!  I was afraid I'd (sugar) crash hard during a bike climb or certainly during the run portion. Or maybe I'd get sick like I had been lately. Nothing of the sort occurred.  I tore up Mount Hollywood on the bike feeling fresh and powerful, unchained by Coach Gerardo's note in my Training Peaks workout that I could play with some attacks and sprints while avoiding heart-rate zone 5.

Well, two out of three ain't bad, right?

Frank decided to join me for the brick today, which meant my cycling mentor had no problem encouraging me to dart up the hills and challenge him to some sprint duels.  I was so excited to finally speed past him on some climbs that I forgot to finish at the top of the hills, which would be when Frank would zip past me by the narrowest of margins. This was a good lesson for me as in each instance I was in the wrong gear to finish strong in the sprint.  Frank knew just when to attack, while I was ill-prepared to make a proper defense.

First, Frank taught me how to ride.  Now, he's teaching me the ins and outs of racing.  It's gonna be one fun ride!  My evening reading -- Mark Cavendish's autobiography -- is also inspiring me to push a little harder while riding. He eschews sports science in favor of simply riding a lot of hours, hard and fast.  He's constantly been told he performs poorly in the laboratory -- poor power output, too fat, etc. -- and he responds by saying that labs don't measure passion and perseverance.  That's my kind of guy.  So as I pushed hard today, even sustaining close to 25 mph in a pace line for a while at the end, I kept thinking of Mark Cavendish and his "old school" training style.  It was a liberating feeling.

Despite the effort on the bike, my run went well too.  It started off poorly, as the group was very fast and shot ahead of me from the start.  This was further complicated by having to pee only a half-mile in.  Eventually, I got my legs under me and caught up with most of the group during the trail run portion.  I kept my heart rate mostly in zone 3 and was very consistent during my finishing two-mile kick.  Though I need to pick that intensity up in preparation for the Breath of Life Olympic triathlon on June 27.  I'll really need to push hard that day!

I'll have an opportunity to hone my speed (or lack thereof?) tomorrow at our Fortius team's first coached track workout.  It's going to be held at Harvard-Westlake High School off Coldwater Canyon at 6 p.m.  But before that is my 6 a.m. coached swim workout.  Better get to bed.

161 days and counting.

Drop Dead Legs

I'm in an absolute daze on my couch right now. These past five days of training have felt particularly challenging, capped off by tonight's two-hour run that featured nearly an hour at tempo pace.  My legs felt so heavy and tight that I almost quit the run altogether after the first 30 minutes.  My stomach acted up again too, which I'm thinking has more to do with running in the evening after eating all day rather than in the morning when my stomach is closer to empty.  But the session turned out to be much more of a positive experience than I could have anticipated.

I really do think the best workouts stem from the worst workouts.  It's that moment when you're about to give in to your body's whining and whimpering that something special starts to happen.  In this instance, I found a way to manage a 51-minute 10k and an 8:15 mile pace after running feebly for an hour while keeping my heart-rate largely in heart-rate zone 3.  That is encouraging because if I really push hard I should be able to break back into the high 40s for my upcoming Olympic-distance race.  I've never broken 50 minutes in an Olympic tri and I now think I'm capable.

And to think how close I was to quitting tonight and starting my rest day early.

Speaking of rest days, I can't wait to apply the ice packs, take a hot shower and slather myself with Dragon Ice recovery balm.  And then, after I slam this protein shake by my side, I'm going to pass out.

166 days and counting.

Equipment Malfunction

What are some of the most annoying things that can happen to you in the sport of triathlon? Hmm, let's see. Here's a quick list below.

-- Flat tire (check)

-- Flat tire on downhill at 30+mph on your first group ride with a new cycling club (check)

-- Flat tire on downhill on a hot day and getting stung by a yellow-jacket while changing it (check)

-- Elbow/foot to face during swim (check)

-- Getting sick before or during training or a race (check)

-- Forgetting necessary equipment for a bike, swim or run (check)

As of this morning, I can now add one more:

-- Completing a time trial and realizing only at the end that your brake pad on the front wheel was rubbing ever-so-slightly.

Unfortunately, check.

The whole time on the bike, I couldn't quite figure out why my speed seemed less than awesome considering how hard I was working.  It was too loud to hear the telltale "thhppt...thppt...thppt" of the brake scraping the rim earlier in my TT because of the freeway traffic along the I-5 bike path.

On the upside, my heart-rate didn't cross into zone 3 until the final 10 minutes of my 45-minute sprint.  Why?  I'm having a very hard time getting my heart rate up while pedaling flat in the aero tuck.  is this normal?  What am I doing wrong?  How can I push harder?  How can I go a little faster?  Besides make sure my brakes aren't holding me back?  Maybe it was fatigue too, which is entirely possible.  I do know this, given my anticipated swim and run stats, cycling between 20-23 mph probably isn't going to get me to the national championships in Alabama.

On another note, I'm having a hard time keeping my front wheel straight when I place it in the skewers before rides.  This undoubtedly is contributing to the brake pad problems. I've tried putting the wheel on from the front of the bike so the alignment is straight.  I've tried from the top down.  I'm always pushing the wheel either to the left or right of the brake pads.  How can I be better about this?  Any tips/tricks?

I won't be getting back on the bike until Sunday.  And thankfully I only had one workout today to complete since my Fortius swim was optional.  Still, that's 8.5 hours of training since Monday.  And tomorrow, I've got a two hour trail run before volunteering at Coach Gerardo's middle school for a career fair.  I hope my legs will propel me through what has been one of the more challenging weeks of training in a long while.

And slightly annoying, too.

167 days and counting.

From the Sea to the Mountains...

The late KABC-TV anchor, Jerry Dunphy, used to open his newscasts with a greeting along the lines of "From the desert to the sea, or wherever you may be, good evening."  (I know that's not exactly it.) That's what my day of training felt like today.  It started at 6:30 a.m. in Santa Monica for my first ocean speed circuit with the LA Tri Club.  We -- and by "we" I mean about 100 other folks -- met at Tower 26 off Ocean Park and Barnard Way, where we then swam out to a buoy about 250 yards offshore and triangulated back to the lifeguard tower.  We jogged the distance from the tower to the entry point, with the goal of completing at least three loops in the typical one hour allotment.

I was still feeling pretty crispy from the Fortius swim the evening prior, but had enough in the tank to complete three loops with fairly little effort.  The water was cold but manageable and especially salty.  I don't remember the water being as salty in Marina del Rey and Malibu. I'm not sure why that is.  I didn't really know too many people at the swim, but friendly faces Byron, Bob, Mo and Liana made my first experience pleasant.  Bob reminded me that some workouts just require you to show up and log the time.  This would be one of those days.

Of course, my training didn't stop there.  To conclude the day, I rejoined the LA Tri Clubbers at Griffith Park earlier this evening for our weekly brick.  We "only" had 1.75 hours instead of the usual 2.25, but it might as well have been that long based on how my legs felt and my heart-rate performed.  My bike ride was pretty pathetic, though I stayed mostly in heart-rate zone 2 on the climb up Mount Hollywood and managed to get out to the Griffith Observatory and back in just over an hour.  That's kind of encouraging since I didn't exert much effort but still got up the big hills without much trouble.  Still, I just didn't have much power in my legs and I have a 45-minute time trial tomorrow.  I need to find the extra power for that one.  Fortunately, my run was a pleasant surprise. Though I didn't feel great, I managed two sub-eight-minute miles at the end of he run, even getting down to around 7:30 without coming close to heart-rate zone 4.  I didn't expect to see that kind of progress after beating myself up the past few days.  I hope I can build on that moving forward.  We'll find out on Friday, when I have a tempo two-hour trail run with the last 5-8 miles in zone 3.  Wheee!

Perhaps the best part of the day came in the middle, when I visited the dermatologist.  A year ago at this time, I literally was receiving some very light radiation treatments on my face for some pre-cancerous growth on my nose.  Today, I received a 100% clean bill of health from the skin doctor, noting that I was progressing "perfectly."  Considering how often I'm outside, this was a huge relief.  I've been much better about using quality sunblock whenever I can, and it clearly has made a difference.  I can only urge my friends to please do the same, and PLEASE get checked out by a dermatologist.  Or at least have someone monitor your body for unusual moles and pigmentation.

We covered the sea.  We covered the Hollywood sign.  We covered Griffith Observatory.  We ran trails.  We ran on the road.

I think we did Jerry Dunphy justice today.

168 days and counting.

When Ya Gotta Go...

Warning: This is not one of my touchy-feely posts. In fact, it probably won't get much grosser than this.

Tune out now if you can't handle a little "dirty" humor.  And I mean yucky, not sexy.  Just to be clear.

Mom, I'm looking at you.

I never thought this would happen to me.  Before every race or even any training session, I get my bathroom breaks out of the way.  My innards "know" it's time to...ahem...release before I start training for an extended period.  This afternoon, at the weekly LA Tri Club Griffith Park brick, I got faked out by my digestive organs.

I'm sharing this because I think it's happened to all of us at some point.  Whether it's in a race or just practice...when ya gotta go...ya gotta go!  Usually we hope there's a port-o-potty nearby.  Sometimes, like during a trail run, there's just not.

The bike portion of the brick was just fine -- outside of what felt like a swirling headwind that kept our progress up Mt. Hollywood slow and steady.  It was the run that felt like it gave me the runs.

First off, it's a good thing I was running alone today.  (I had to leave early to attend a party with Steph's friends, which turned out to be a lot of fun.) Midway through the run, it was clear something wasn't agreeing with my stomach.  While my pace didn't really slow, let's just say I was re-enacting that famous scene from "Blazing Saddles" where everyone around the campfire is having a toot-fest.  Except I was alone, which meant I could kind of giggle a bit to myself. Jet power!  Because let's face it, no matter how old you are, farts are funny. They just are.  C'mon, you know it's true.

But what's less than funny is realizing that the next toot might not be so innocent.  And nobody wants to relive the movie scene from "Along Came Polly" with Phillip Seymour Hoffman realizing he just "sharted."  I don't think that word needs any explanation, by the way.

So, I had to find a quiet place to, well, uh, you know...poop.

Hey, everybody poops...sometime.

There are few things quite as embarrassing or demeaning than copping a squat in nature but feeling like the whole world is watching.  Whether they are or not doesn't matter, it's just that feeling of knowing you A) look pathetic B) couldn't hold it and C) don't have a magazine to read.

After covering up my creation, I continued my run issue-free. Yes, I felt a little lighter.  And if you know me really well, then you also know I may have had a bit of a guilty-silly grin the rest of the run.

Just don't tell anyone, OK?

Always a new adventure to be had in this sport, right?  This was the first time since junior high school a situation like this occurred.  I kinda hope its the last.

Now, I've got to be up in about six hours to jump in the pool.  Hopefully, issue-free there too. Good night!

175 days and counting.

What Fuels My Fire

I'm sensing a potential problem with my training.

It's centered on fear.  Fear of finishing last in a pelaton. Or in the pool.  Or on the track and trail.  It stems from being dropped on numerous rides with the San Fernando Valley Bicycle Club early in my cycling career, or my past inability to keep up in swim workouts.  And an athletic inferiority complex in general that is best represented by my irrational love for underdogs like Rudy Ruettiger.  Fearing that I'm the slowest or the worst fuels my competitive fire, as much as when people tell me I can't or won't be able to do something. Anything.

This fear is manifesting itself in a pretty obsessive competitive streak lately.  My training partners and friends, Ann, Richard and Mike, have encountered that side of my personality recently.  Richard and Mike were playfully teasing me about notching up the intensity a bit too high during our weekly Griffith Park brick sessions on Wednesday nights.  I can't help it though, especially when a few of us cyclists tackle Mount Hollywood en route to Griffith Park and occasionally treat it like we're racing for the polka-dot climbing "king of the hill" jersey at Le Tour de France.

OK, maybe that's just me that feels that way.  Maybe I'm the only one who hears British Tour de France TV commentator Phil Liggett in my head -- announcing my progress and stumbles to the world in real-time.  And that's part of my problem.

It happened again today, where what felt like an unusually large pelaton ratcheted up the intensity almost as soon as we turned out of the LA Zoo parking lot.  I was prepared for an easy spin and run considering our recent race weekend at Wildflower.  Nobody else in the group received that memo, apparently.  We took off fast, and hard.  I was almost dropped at first until I warmed up properly.

That got my attention.  And drew my ire.  Then, what was supposed to be a jaunt turned into a near-sprint, starting at around Forest Lawn Drive before heading right up a long hill en route to Mt. Hollywood.

Phil Liggett took over.  He called the action in my head with every pedal stroke.

"Ryan seems to be struggling today, his weary legs almost begging for mercy after a grueling Wildflower stage on Sunday.  He's towards the back of the pack at the moment, or is he calculating his big surge? It's hard to tell if our man on the Colnago is wearing the look of a confident, intense competitor or someone who's at the end of his line before the real racing begins.  What's Ryan made of today?  We will all soon know.

"Oh look at that!  Ryan is making his move now, passing to the outside left of a small group of riders who seem to be slowing down.  He's picking up steam! But can he catch the man up front, the blue-jersey, Trek wearing monster who is trying to lose the entire pack up the mountain?  Can Ryan pick it up to slay Goliath?  Or is David simply out of rocks?

"It appears we'll have our answer shortly.  Ryan is making his move!  He's separating from the pack and is solely focused on tracking down the Trek.  Now Ryan is riding Trek's wheel, forcing the leader to pick up the pace.  The man up front is becoming uncomfortable. I think Ryan's got him!  Yes, the Trek rider is now standing and pedaling up the hill.  Laboring!  Panting!  Cold and merciless, Ryan passes.  Seated.  A point has been made.  'This is MY hill.'  This will indeed be Ryan's day!  From worst to first, for one moment, Ryan is king of this hill. A huge victory for Team Colnago."

Yep, that's how my brain works. Even if it's 5:30 on a Wednesday evening on a seemingly routine ride. I know I'm a little crazy.  I know.

I hate losing. I hate being dropped.  I hate being perceived as too slow.  Not good enough.  Not fast enough.

Nothing ever comes easy for me, so I never take a workout for granted. Maybe that's a secret to success: Treat each workout like it must be your best.  Because somewhere out there, someone is training harder.  Getting better.  Becoming faster.

What are you doing?

203 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.

Sunday in the Park

My run went so much better than breakfast afterwards.

(Yelp Alert: Paty's in Burbank...good food, good prices, brain-dead service.)

What is it sometimes with servers? Why is it that when I'm the nicest, most accommodating, most understandable guest, I get screwed the first? How hard is it to get right two scrambled eggs, two pancakes (with strawberries), with a turkey patty and orange juice? Compared to multiple omelets ordered by my fellow Valley Coach/LA Tri Club athletes? Yet, there I was, last to receive my food, with the order completely jacked up. No strawberries. No orange juice. Turkey patty delivered without the eggs and pancakes. Really? No, seriously...really? My bad luck continued through the end of the meal when the group had to wait outside for me as the bill had to be first recalculated to account for the missing orange juice order I got charged for, and then when my change wasn't returned to me. Actually, the server had the chutzpah to ask me if I wanted change after giving $20 for a $10.40 bill. Uh, yes please.

...And scene.

Phew...that felt goooood! I needed that.

OK, on to more important things, like the run itself. We had three options today, a seven, 11 or 14-mile trail run in Griffith Park. I had never run in the hills there, and I've never run more than a half-marathon.

Today was my lucky day. Or at least it was at 7:30 a.m.!

First of all, if you haven't run the Griffith Park trails...wow. Once again, I've been treated to a new side of Los Angeles. And there was no smog today, so the views of downtown, Glendale and the San Gabriel Mountains were gorgeous. Wish I had brought my camera along for the run (it bangs against my leg, unfortunately).

My assignment today was to run for 2:30, with the usual 22-count/15-second cadence. Until today, I had never run longer than two hours, which occurred last week on the Nike trail run. Overall, I felt good at the end of the run, but don't think I could have run much more today. The hills were manageable and the backs of my knees didn't ache during the run like last week. Around mile 13, my IT bands started to tighten up on both legs, but I managed. My overall HR average was around 141 (though the final 20 minutes were spent in the mid-150s) and I burned through a whopping 1,600 calories.

I experimented with some new nutrition on the run at the urging of Coach Gerardo. I tried Herbalife's "Fuel Good" energy supplement (a tablet that fizzes into your water) and Powergel. The verdicts: "Fuel Good" made me feel good and Powergel gave me a power stomach ache.

My favorite part of the run, once again, was getting to know my fellow triathlete friends. Each has their own story and motivations. Today, I spent the most time during the run with Christina (pictured, back row second left), a mother of two and a two-time Ironman finisher. She recently completed Ironman Arizona, shaving off three hours from her previous Ironman thanks to extensive training from Vinnie (whom I wrote about yesterday). Christina is hoping to podium at an Ironman event within the next eight years, and with her training regimen and mental outlook I think she can do it. In fact, I think Christina is the kind of person who can do just about anything she puts her mind to.

Too bad she wasn't in charge at Paty's this morning.

338 days and counting.