Fatigued But Not Deflated

Swimming practice at 6 a.m. came and went today.  Track practice at 6 p.m. came and went as well. I was just too tired.  I'm still planning to attend tonight's swim at 7:30 p.m., but I'm not quite 100%.  It could be allergies -- my eyes are itchy and my prescription medications needed refills.  It could be Trudy and Bam-Bam -- I put a small hole in my bedroom ceiling last week with a shovel handle due to the pounding noise directly over my head that continues regularly at 6:30 a.m.  It could be the workouts themselves -- I pushed myself pretty hard during Monday's and Wednesday's brick workouts.  Maybe it's even the tapering cycle  for Vineman 70.3 taking its natural toll.

It's probably a combination of all the above.

Whatever it is, I'm tired.  So tired I slept 10 hours last night and it felt like it wasn't nearly enough all day at work.

This time, I'm smarter though.  In past races I'd probably get panic-stricken, wondering if I was getting sick or losing my fitness.  I know better.  It's not a big deal. I'm just a little gassed.  I refilled my prescriptions, took the little I have left of my Allegra, and am starting to feel a little better already.  I slept in this morning instead of dragging myself to the pool just because I thought I had to.

Besides, today's track workout was optional, with Coach Gerardo indicating I could skip it if I felt tired.

Commence skipping.

And in the next 30 minutes, commence swimming.

135 days and counting.

Ironman and Beyond

Somewhere amidst the craziness of the past few days, I'm still managing to fit in my Ironman training.  Today marked the annual LA Tri Club Wednesday Griffith Park brick, which was a welcome return to normalcy. I think the collective energy spent running around town and balancing the other important aspects of my life are taking a slight toll on me physically this week.  My bike ride was average at best, though to be fair a breezy cross-wind in the hills leading up to the Griffith Observatory slowed me down too.  The first 20 minutes of the ride were especially hard on my legs.  I couldn't tell if that's because I need more time to warm up or if I'm simply a little fatigued. It's probably a combination of both.

I picked it up on the run though, banging out 7:52, 7:38 and 7:24 miles to wrap up the day.  However, as a result of pushing it a bit I may sit out tomorrow evening's track workout depending on how I feel.  It's optional based on Coach Gerardo's schedule so we'll take it as it comes.

Let's focus on the big picture for the moment though.  Earlier today, I mentioned I signed up for my second Ironman Coeur d'Alene, Idaho. (This means I'll need to really remember how to spell this place properly!) June 2011.

Am I nuts!?  I haven't even completed my first Ironman! I have no idea what to expect or if my body can even handle it yet I'm going for it again.  Is that confidence or stupidity?  Both?  One thing it is for certain is an example of healthy peer pressure, as my Fortius buddies Richard and David are signed up as well.

Rationally speaking, the reason I signed up is that I figure I'll be in peak physical condition (knocks on wood) and want to take advantage of that as much as possible while I have the time and ability to stay that way.  Further, Stephanie and I will be married in September 2011 in all likelihood.  Completing my second Ironman at the end of June allows me to enjoy the rest of the summer, focus on wedding planning and generally relax instead of training myself into the ground right before The Big Day.  I envision that I'll still complete a couple Olympic-distance events before the wedding though and maybe one late in October just to keep me honest.  Then, my long-term goal is to focus on one more Ironman the following year, an international event in some exotic location.  After that, I'll likely switch to Half-Ironman events and ease back on the training intensity a little.

Of course, we all know that G-d laughs at those who make plans. Still, I like to hedge my bets. If I can pull it all off, it will be one heck of an adventure.

Actually, it already has been!  I can only hope and dream that the best is still left to come.

Still 136 days and counting.

Wake Up Call

Well, I won't make that mistake again. "That mistake" was misinterpreting Coach Gerardo's directions this morning during the bike portion of our Vineman simulation brick workout.  At the first climb in Hidden Valley on Portrero Road (just shy of Sly Stallone's place), Gerardo indicated that once I got to the crest, I should come immediately back.  I thought he meant the crest of the entire climb, which would have been the peak of Portrero Road before the steep and tricky descent into Camarillo.

In hindsight, I realize how silly this logic was.  But, I was in a cycling groove, hypnotized by a consistent pedal cadence and from riding largely by myself -- though my teammates were nearby.  It's at those moments when I'm truly in a cycling trance.  Not really thinking about anything important, but rather the ride itself.  How I'm feeling, how the ride is going, what's next whether climb, flat or descent.

I had only realized my mistake when I returned from the second Portrero peak and didn't see teammates Jason, Richard or Karen anywhere, let alone Mike's sag vehicle.  It then became a frenzied solo journey back to Las Virgenes Road and Mullholland Drive.  To make matters worse, my cell phone died.  I didn't place it in the usual Ziplock baggie, and I finally paid the ultimate price.  While the phone itself turns on, it resets itself the moment I try to dial a phone number or punch in any key, for that matter.

Finally, after an added nine miles and 20 minutes of pedaling, I rejoined Mike, quickly changed clothes and ran into Malibu Creek State Park for a 6.6 mile workout.  The time was after noon, and this was designed to simulate the expected hot and sunny conditions we'll face at Vineman 70.3 in a couple weeks.  To better combat the elements, I tried a pair of DeSoto arm coolers.  It's hard to say whether they had a physical effect, but my arms were certainly cooler and my heart-rate remained closer to 160 bpm (low zone 4) compared to the upper 160s it had been while training in 90-degree-plus weather in Arizona.  I completed the running loop, which took me through rocks, creeks, scrub, and dust to the base of the Bulldog Trail, in just about 1:05:00.  It wasn't the fastest pace, but it wasn't the easiest terrain.

Like it or not thoughm, I'm about as ready as I'm going to be for a Half-Ironman.  I remember thinking during the run that the discomfort I was feeling at the end of the run is only going to be compounded on race day. Especially since I'd need to bang out another 6.5 miles before finishing, not to mention adding a 1.2 mile swim and nine more miles to my bike ride.

So while the physical aspects of today's training session were valuable, the most valuable aspect by far was the metaphorical splash of cold water on my ego that just because I can fare well in an Olympic distance triathlon...we're about to enter completely new territory.  What I've done in the past does not matter one bit at a Half-Ironman.

Wake up call received.

Just not from my defunct cell phone.

137 days and counting.

Do the Work.

How I'm ending the day is pretty much how I started it.  Tired.  Lethargic.  Ready for bed. At least I can fulfill that desire instead of trudging out for an early morning brick.  Stephanie pretty much had to kick me out of bed this morning, literally.  She did so successfully, with the promises of making me oatmeal.  It helped.  My cycling felt about as slow as oatmeal transfers out from the ceramic bowl to the plastic one.  Please. Just. Go. A. Little. Faster.

For whatever reason, I just didn't sleep well last night.  I was ready to train at 4:30 in the morning, and since Trudy and Bam Bam have been making more regular early morning cameos lately, I figured what's the use of going back to sleep.  So I got caught in that "no doze zone" -- somewhere between being awake and drifting off to sleep.  It took me about a half-hour of cycling to wash the malaise off my body and generate some pedal power.

The run turned out much better.  The breakthrough from last Wednesday's Griffith Park brick with Coach Gerardo and Richard is really paying dividends now.  Despite my general tired state, running at tempo pace (heart-rate zone 3) felt surprisingly easy and relaxing.  My heart-rate never rose past 157 bpm but I was averaging what felt like an 8:30-mile pace -- and it was fairly effortless.  In the past, I would labor a lot more running at tempo.  Granted, I only ran a shade under 4.5 miles in just about 40 minutes.  But I felt like I could run another 4.5 or more at the same pace if not slightly better. Given my groggy frame of mind, I'll more than take it.

I suppose the real victory today was simply getting out of bed and doing the work. That's all you can do sometimes, as I've said before.  It's the difference between coming close to your race day goals and either meeting or exceeding your expectations.  You've got to put in the work, the time, the sweat and the effort -- whether you feel like it or not.

That's really all that today was about.  And at this point countless other training sessions I've written about. It's probably the theme of my Ironman training: Do the work. Period.

Speaking of, it's back to work tomorrow morning. At 6. In the pool.  Track session in the evening too.

Let's do this.

141 days and counting.

Coach to the Rescue

First off, it may seem that I’m slacking in the blog department.  I promised (myself and my readers) that I’d blog every day without fail until Ironman. Fail.

Last night I had internet problems. The site seemed to be down.  The night before, I had a late massage from David at LA Body Mechanics that ended around 10:40 p.m. (more on that later).  I was tired, beat up, and needed some rest.

I actually wrote this blog last night in Microsoft Word so I could potentially double-post tomorrow (today by the time you read this).

The past few days have been eye-opening for me.  More so from a mental aspect than anything else.  Previously, I had written about my fatigue after an emotionally draining week.  That fatigue led me to miss a couple workouts.  Which caused me to start worrying – OK panicking – that I wouldn’t be at my peak heading into this weekend’s race.

For those of you who read my blog post about my night with the Lakers, I certainly don’t expect you to feel sorry for me.

Nonetheless, times like these call for a good coach.  Someone to reel you in when you start to drift – OK beeline – for an anxiety attack or confidence crisis.

Enter Coach Gerardo.  Over the past few days, he’s essentially grabbed me by the arms and shaken me, metaphorically telling me to “chill out” and remember why I love the sport of triathlon. David, during his massage, pointed this out to me too.  I had gotten too locked into “the numbers” of the sport.  We all know them well.  Heart-rate zones and duration of workout especially.

I honestly can’t remember the last time I swam, ran or biked simply for the pure joy of it.  It’s always with an end-goal in mind.  A workout to check off the list.  A time to beat.  Someone to beat.

Gerardo has really reset me and got me ready for this Sunday.  He gave David tips on the best massage for me, and reminded me why I was doing all this (because I CAN!).  Yesterday, he (and Richard) ran with me the entire set during our Griffith Park brick to show me I could run a lot faster than I think – maintaining a seven-minute mile pace for two miles while not totally blowing up in the process.  Today, Gerardo pushed me in the water farther and harder than I wanted to go, ignoring my whining to coax a personal best 1:26 100-yard swim out of me.  And, after that, he sent me an email congratulating me on a nice bike time trial yesterday, smooth cadence at 92 rpm and staying in heart-rate zone 3.

That’s the mark of a good coach.  He took me from the brink of dejection and collapse to feeling like I’m truly ready to rock this Sunday.  My energy is high, my confidence is back, and most important…I’m excited to race again.

Thanks coach.

147 days and counting.

The Fortius Trio

Most Fortius workouts are filled with lots of teammates, all working together towards one common goal or race.  They feature lots of banter, and a fair amount of friendly competition too. Today, Richard, Ann and I were the lone Fortius representatives.  Just the three of us.  And it was really cool.  I trained differently than normal.  Usually, I push myself to the limits of every workout, or at least (generally) to the letter of what Coach Gerardo tells me.  Today, I followed Richard's lead.  Which meant a more consistent pace on the bike and a little more walking on the run.  At first, I felt guilty.  Like I was cheating on my training.  However, I ran faster than I have been lately despite taking more breaks, which I found interesting. Perhaps it was because I was fresher off the bike -- even with three aero bar re-adjustments due to loose screws. (Dad, you were right, it seems I do have a few screws loose after all.)  Or, maybe it was simply because I had company for a change.  I've been training alone lately, and in the heat of the day.  We started just before 8 this morning so we could catch some of the USA-England World Cup match.  Maybe a more relaxed pace is actually a good thing?  I'll have a hard time digesting that one, but am trying to accept that as a possibility.

Having Richard and Ann to chat, share and laugh with certainly helped my performance.  It also reminded me how lonely it can be training by myself with no music or companionship.  And by companionship, I mean someone pushing me, challenging me to go faster or dig deeper.  I thrive on that, and Richard's bike pacing (when we decided to speed up) and run pace gave me something to strive for.

***

Tonight is Stehpanie's and my engagement party.  One added benefit of a more evenly paced brick is that I have plenty of energy for the festivities.  Of course, I'm genuinely excited about them.  In a way, I can't believe we're actually having an engagement party tonight. It's surreal almost.  I know we're getting married, and Steph is essentially living with me now.  But events like this help make it "official."  The funny part though is that it feels so natural anyway that there's no real "official" needed.  I know that probably doesn't make sense, but really all I mean is that ceremonies and events don't make our commitment any stronger than it already is.  But it's nice to share a moment in time with our closest friends and family.  That will be awesome.

158 days and counting.

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.

Hot Hot Heat

The line between training hard and being stupid is a fine one.  I think I walked it a little today. It wasn't supposed to go that way.  After touring the sun-splashed and wind-swept Santa Ynez Valley yesterday, Stephanie and crashed out pretty hard last night around 9:45 p.m.  Nearly 11 hours later, we awoke.  I suppose my body was trying to tell me something.

I eventually rallied this morning and drove to the Starbucks at Las Virgenes and Agoura Road for my brick workout -- which was a solo affair.  No sooner had I arrived than I had to turn around.  I left my helmet at home!  Arrrgh!  I did have that moment where I considered riding without it.  But I knew that was not a fine line between training and being stupid.  Plus, if I survived, Steph would have killed me anyways!

Once I eventually got started on my brick, it was 10:30 a.m.  In the span of driving home and returning to Agoura, the temperature went up five degrees to 80.  I was going to complete my brick during the hottest part of the day, from 10:30 through 2:30 p.m.

Wise or stupid?

On one hand, I'm a big believer in training in multiple weather conditions, especially with Vineman 70.3 looming.  It gets hot in Napa Valley in the middle of summer!  And my initial outing in heat, a week ago in Arizona, didn't go so great during the run.  I wanted to keep working at it.

On the other hand...dude, it's 93 degrees!  At least!  Coach Gerardo didn't say to train in the heat of the day, so why put myself through that?  Why not just do the workouts prescribed at the typical early hour?

Where's the fun in that?!

So, I trudged onward today.  Alone.  In the heat.  Talk about a mental exercise.  No music.  No conversation...just me, my thoughts, and beautiful scenery.  The highlights weren't even on the bike or the run, but the car rally fundraiser for the LA Sheriffs Department.  There were 100 exotic cars all revving up on Agoura Road, just waiting to blast and whine through the canyon roads.  Nice!

My pace on the bike and the run wasn't special.  However, I did see some progress on the run compared to Arizona.  I didn't lose as many calories, my average heart-rate was lower and my pace was only .1 mph off.  Yet I climbed 200 more feet.  The credit goes to better hydration -- I scheduled water refill stops at Peter Strauss Ranch and at the Sherwood fire station.  On the bike, I climbed Rock Store in just under 20 minutes while remaining largely in heart-rate zones 2-3 and not over-exerting except on a few steep grade turns.  I never really hammered on the ride, but it was still a respectable workout.

Following the full brick, after sitting in a heat-induced stupor at Sharkey's (top photo), I high-tailed it to Helen's Cycles in Santa Monica to pick up my new cleats and to quickly adjust the seat on my Colnago. Once again, Pete took great care of me.  With some very minor adjustments, like actually making my seat flat, I felt an immediate difference in comfort on the trainer.  I'm eager to see how Monica will feel back on the road for my next ride.  And seriously, people, if you need a new bike or a great place to get quality service, I can't recommend Helen's (and Pete) enough.  I've tried my luck at several bike shops and while I've had good results at others, Helen's is the best I've been to.  Hands down.  Simply a cut above the rest.  Like the advertisements say, ask for Pete, and tell him I sent ya!

Before signing off, I wanted to briefly reflect on the significance of today's date, June 6.  I believe it was 66 years ago when Allied Forces stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-Day, Zero Hour.  This was the most pivotal moment of the 20th Century for America.  Had this battle been turned back, I fear the course of World, US and Jewish history would have taken a far worse turn.  I visited Normandy nine years ago today, and I can tell you that what those men fought through to get ashore is astounding and miraculous. And the rows upon rows of grave markers is something that sticks in my head and heart.  During my visit, I went out into the water at what would have approximately been Dog Sector and looked to the beach at the views and bluffs the Americans, Canadians and British had to scale.  I'm in awe of what those men accomplished that day, and when I compare my completely inane blog and its musings with the miraculous actions of that day...I am speechless and beyond humbled.

We are lucky to be free and alive, in good health no less.  We owe that at least partially to the veterans who fought on our behalf for generations, wherever duty called.  No matter how hot or cold it got.  Or wet.  Or worse.

164 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.

Answering a Question I Don't Want to Ask

I've slept for close to 10 hours each of the past three nights. During that span, I've biked nearly 95 miles, ran about 15, hiked another three and swam (only laps).

It was hot and windy for a good portion of those miles.

Total training time: 10 hours, not including the 2.5 hour hike.  That's between 3 1/3 and 4+ hours a day since Saturday.

Am I over-training?

Judging by my sleeping patterns and how my body feels, yeah, a little.

Can I stop?  Hell no!  I'm an addict.  I'm routinely training 15 hours a week right now -- sometimes more, sometimes less.  I know I should take a moment and reassess but with the Breath of Life national qualifier Olympic triathlon coming up on June 27 and Vineman 70.3 a few weeks later, I feel like I'm training for the high season.  I figure there will be time to rest in late July after Vineman.

That leads me to today's workouts.  I was supposed to run with Stephanie early this morning, at 6:15.  That time came and went quickly, with a fly-swat to my alarm and another two hours of sleep. I managed to fit my recovery run in on the treadmill at lunch.  I literally only ran just over four miles in 45 minutes.  To say I was dragging would be an understatement.  A friend of mine who trains at the gym religiously pointed out that sometimes you just have to log the time.  That's what got me through the workout.  Some days are just bad days.  In her words, "as long as you have one good day of training a week," that's about all you can ask for.

That seems like such a strange concept to me.  I want every workout to be my best.  That's what I expect and demand from myself.

Maybe I should ask my body nicely more often?

Despite my legs feeling like anchors, I'm heading to the pool in an hour for an evening edition of the Fortius-coached swim.  Steph is joining me, which is exciting and a little frightening all at once.  I want to show her how much I've improved in the water but I hope I have enough fuel in the tank to do it.  On top of that, I need to conserve enough energy to make tomorrow morning's 6:30 a.m. ocean speed circuit with the LA Tri Club in Santa Monica.  Followed by a brick at 5:30 p.m. at Griffith Park.

I think if it sounds like over-training, it probably is.

In that case, I've answered my own question that started this blog post.

I know I should do something about that.

I just can't promise that I will.

169 days and counting.