Shot in the Arm

This morning, I may have hit my low point in Ironman training.  I couldn't get out of bed in time for my Tuesday morning ride.  It was supposed to rain, which provided the perfect excuse to sleep in a little longer. Plus, last night's massage had left me in a rather tranquil mental state as well. Still, I needed to cram in a nearly two-hour ride before work.  This required me to ride on the trainer. I can't decide which is worse: Swimming endless laps in a pool, running on a hilly trail on a hot day by yourself without enough hydration, or riding for more than an hour on a bike trainer.

When you do all three in the span of a few days, it can cause you to go a little batty.  The sweat was literally forming little pools on my floor.  Shredded tire peeled away by the trainer floating in the salty water.  Finally, I had to pry the drenched technical shirt off my back just to feel like a normal human being again.  It was just one of those "What the hell am I doing to myself?!" kind of moments.  Which, as you've seen lately, I've had more and more of lately.

And instead of basking in the accomplishment of completing the workout, all I could think about was tonight's swim and how much I didn't want to attend.  I was so over it!  And yet I have a month and a half to go still.

Fortunately, I remembered my Muse mantra in the car on the way home from work, an hour before the swim.

They will not force us!

They will not control us!

We will be victorious!

The song, Uprising, totally picked me up.  I remembered that this is all a choice. Sometimes, a tough choice.  But a choice nonetheless.

I arrived to the pool reinvigorated.  Ready to swim.  Despite the crisp evening chill and scant raindrops.  The swim was a fairly intense one, with three sets of alternating 500s, 400s and 500s and a timed 100 to conclude the workout.  If my mental state had been worse, there's no way I would have matched my 100 PR time of 1:22.  Even Coach Gerardo commented that I had a breakthrough in my stroke, lifting my  left arm higher out of the water and gliding through the stroke longer.  He's confident I can lower my 100 time further if I continue to hone my technique.

And to think this workout almost didn't happen.

Every day I have to find a new way to motivate myself right now.  Today it was music.  Who knows what it will be tomorrow.

45 days and counting.

Well-Deserved Recovery

No big workouts to report today, not after this past weekend's mash-fest.  Instead I took care of myself with an early evening yoga class that left me dripping with sweat (still can't get that hand-stand!) followed by a long massage with David from LA Body Mechanics.  While the yoga class at Black Dog was a little more than I bargained for, the massage helped me drain the rest of the pain from my body.  Not without a fight though. My glutes, quads, adductors, calves and lower back were quite sore, though David said overall my body right now is in great shape.  That's reassuring given the intensity of the past few weeks and my lack of stretching. Turning away from my body for a moment, my real focus the next few days is going to be on the weather.  When we get a big shift like the one we've had in Southern California -- 90 degrees one day and rain the next -- my immune system goes straight down the toilet and I usually get pretty sick.  I'm hoping that all the training hasn't left me winded and incapable of fighting off another cold.  This leaves me torn as tomorrow morning I should have a long bike ride before work.  If it's rainy, damp and cold, I'll probably stay indoors and ride on the trainer for nearly two hours.  That could wreak havoc on my butt though, as I'm starting to get saddle sores.  I know, not the sexiest subject, but if you're sticking with me from the beginning of my training you should know the truth.

Ironman hurts.

Bad.

At this point in the training, expect to wake up in the middle of the night to eat.  Expect sores in uncomfortable places.  Expect to need food in the middle of work meetings or risk getting a headache.  And expect to need food soon after eating a hearty meal.  Expect to be sore in one place or another all the time.  Expect to pay for massage work every two to three weeks with two months to go until the race.  (I'm on a schedule with David now.)

And expect to be antsy to work out when you've had a couple light training days.  For all the bitching and whining about the training, it's addictive.

So while I'm recovering today, I'm already thinking about tomorrow.  And despite the volume of this past weekend, I feel pretty good.

Progress.  Every day a step closer to the final goal.  Every day a slight new victory. A new insight.  But it requires doing the extra work.

47 days and counting.

Shattered but Happy

I basically did an Ironman over the course of this weekend.  Hence the lack of blog posts for it as well.  I trained 12 hours in two days, with the following results: SATURDAY

-- 112 miles on the bike in almost exactly six hours.  Rode from Pepperdine University to Simi Valley and back, with detours in Camarillo.  Climbed about 3,500 feet total.

-- Ran five miles in 45 minutes immediately following the bike.  Legs felt pretty decent after the first mile.

-- Did both by myself, which helped lock me in mentally since I'll have to do the same come race day.  Yes, it was a little lonely out there, especially when it started raining unexpectedly in Moorpark.  But I got through it.  And G-d has a sense of humor, too.  When the rain drops came first came down, I shouted out to nothing in particular, "Bring it!"  And the rain immediately stopped.  I thought I had won that little battle with Mother Nature.  Nope!  Mile 111 found me facing a huge hill at the Malibu Creek Shopping Center to get back to Pepperdine, with a stiff head-wind, and only a minute to spare to hit my goal of 6:00:00.  The wind picked up, my pace dropped back, and I finished with 6:01:01.  Mother Nature 1, Ryan 0.

Before moving on to Sunday, I should note that for the first time I can remember, hunger woke me up in the middle of the night.  I literally had to make myself a peanut butter sandwich at 3:30 a.m. to get back to sleep.  That was after drinking a fully loaded protein shake at 11 p.m.  Fortunately, I only lost one pound last night despite the massive amount of calories I burned.

SUNDAY

-- Ran 13.1 miles in almost 2:30:00, covering just about 1,300 feet of elevation in 80+ degree heat.  I really started to feel it bad towards the end of the run. I fell short on liquids and had to dog the last two miles without any.  At that point it was around noon, the heat of the day.  Big mistake.  But once again, I got through it.  Clearly, my long distance pace right now on rough training weekends is around 9:30/mile.  That was my moving pace today and roughly the pace after yesterday's bike ride.

-- Swam 4,000 yards (500 short of three miles) in 1:25:00 (roughly).  This workout absolutely shattered me.  Of course, it was the cumulative effect of the weekend but it really took all I had to get through it at Calabasas Swim & Tennis Center.  I thought about quitting several times in the workout.  I was tired, irritable, lonely and my feet were cramping every 500 yards.  I knew I'd be even more upset if I didn't finish the full workout, so I pushed through.  The quality of the session wasn't very good but I truly did my best, pacing myself accordingly.

Total damage from the past week: 18 hours, 20 minutes.  Total scheduled was 19:20 but with missing 10 minutes here or there I fell just an hour short of the overall goal.  I feel fine about that since my Training Peaks workouts are mostly colored green, meaning I did the vast majority of the work.

And if anyone wants to tell me that swimming close to three miles, biking the full Ironman distance and running 18 miles total doesn't count as a strong weekend of training, then y'all can kiss my butt.

And with that, I bid you good night.  I got some resting to do.

Rest Required

I participated in the eating of a full, three-week old pig at a Culver City restaurant last night. Though I'm not sure what was more disturbing: Eating the different parts of the intact beast or how tired I was by 10 p.m. after a beer and a glass of wine.

This sport saps the life out of me sometimes.  There are certain moments where my body just seems to shut down and go into the equivalent of "hibernation" mode on a computer.  Like right in the middle of a dinner.  This sucks, because it's not like I go out all often with my training schedule.  When I do, expect to be able to stay awake and rally.

By the time I got home at midnight, the last thing I could think about doing was blogging. Though I did consider it, staring at my laptop, which peered back at me with its single battery light blinking back at me.

I felt guilty for not writing.  I felt guilty for not being able to quite keep up with my friends at the dinner.

Triathlon makes me physically healthier, but sometimes with a sacrifice that's too great to make.  And yet with another month of peak training, this is what I must get used to: Rise, train, race to work, work, race to train, train, quality time with Stephanie, blog, sleep.

Where's the room for friends?  Where's the room for socializing?

The kicker is that today's an off-day from training.  And instead of going out tonight, all I can think about is a quiet night at home.  Just me and the DVR.

I ask my body to do a lot.  Right now, my body is asking for return favors.  Rest.

Deal.

51 days and counting.

Underdog!

I tried to write last night but internet access was down in my condo. A rather ironic scenario played out at home that I have to share.  It started with my recent post about my Muse mantra, "John" commented and asked if I had a "short man's complex."  I thought about that for a while before responding.  There was a time where the answer would have certainly been "yes."  I used to practice martial arts for a period of years in my mid-20s, primarily because I think deep-down I wanted to prove to other people that I was tough enough.  That I wasn't just a little shit, I could defend myself.

Somewhere closer to my 30th birthday, I realized that I didn't need to prove anything to anybody.  And triathlon has taught me all that matters is proving something to yourself.

That said, I would admit I have a lion-sized underdog complex.  David vs Goliath.  Rudy walking on to play football for Notre Dame.  Cinderella Man.  The kind of complex where my fuel grows with other people's doubts whether it's about my ability or the severity of a particular challenge.

So what's the difference between an underdog complex and short man's complex? Semantics?  Not to me.  I think it has everything to do with confidence.  The former is about challenges.  The latter is about insecurities.  I've pushed myself to my physical and mental limits (with more to go) in this sport, and I know what I'm capable of.  Confidence allows me to shrug off jokes or jibes about height, skill or appearance.

All that said, I wound up last night with what can only be described as a moment of karmic, comic irony.  Both fire smoke detectors in my condo started chirping late in the evening, reminding me that it was time to replace the batteries.  Problem is that they're obviously on the ceiling.  And I had no new batteries in the house.

Oh, and even if I did have batteries, there's no ladder in the house either.

There I was, perched atop the leather reclining chair in my office, a step-stool stacked on top of the seat.  Stephanie guarding my legs so the chair didn't spin around and knock me off.  Standing on my toes, reaching for the detector units.

Short man's complex indeed!

And yes, I did fix the problem. I ripped both detectors from the ceiling.   Now, only dangling wires remain.

Short man's complex...sheesh!

52 days and counting.

My Muse Mantra

They cannot force us. They must stop degrading us.

They will not control us.

We will be victorious!

These are lyrics from a Muse song called Uprising.  I listened to them for about an hour straight tonight while on the treadmill.  I played this song over and over...and over again on my new iPhone (which I LOVE, btw).

I know the words have nothing to do with triathlon. But they have everything to do with me right now as I am immersed in the peak phase of Ironman Arizona training.  "They" doesn't matter.  It's not like someone is out to stop me from training hard.  Or preventing me from doing my best.  And if there is, that person is only me.

No, I think in this instance, "they" refers to things beyond my control going into the big day.  Weather. Time.  Mechanical troubles.  Other racers.  That's at least what I pictured in my head while mindlessly cranking out the required 20 minutes in zone three sandwiched between two 20-minute light recovery jogs.

None of those potential negatives will bother me on race day.  This is my new mantra for the next few weeks.

"They" will not force me to succumb to the elements.

Others' actions (or inactions) will not control me.

I will be victorious.

53 days and counting.

Where I've Been

Saturday: Baptism (not mine), Wall Street movie with Stephanie's family (family great, avoid the movie), dinner with the Van Schaik clan after in Costa Mesa. Sunday: Biked 97 miles with Frank and Caleb, from Malibu to Moorpark and back. Swam almost two miles after that.  Rushed home, changed clothes, took Steph out for a surprise dinner at Cicada Club in downtown LA followed by another surprise, Muse floor seats!

Just got home from this whirlwind of a day.  So much more I could say about the entire day.  Too drained physically and emotionally to even try. Highlights are easy though.  Caleb made me feel like I'm halfway decent at triathlon by complimenting my cycling.  Steph looked at me tonight like I'm king of the world. Well, at least her world. Muse simply rocked my entire core.  To the point I stood for two hours after my day of training and didn't mind that much.  Truly one of the best live performances I've ever seen.  Dare I say even better than a U2 concert?

Days like today just don't get much better.  Honestly, one of the better days of my life.

54 days and counting.

iTrain

First things first. Yes, I fixed a flat last night. Mostly.

I struggled and klutzed around for around 24 minutes.  My technique was poor and clumsy, but ultimately I did take out one tube and insert another while putting on the tire without using tire irons.  I am proud of myself for that.  Unfortunately, I couldn't inflate the tire though.  My air pump is in the car that currently sits at my dad's auto repair shop.  I used a CO2 cartridge but that didn't take b/c I think the valve stem isn't protruding through the wheel enough.  I may have to insert another tube with a deeper stem.  Either way, I'm eager to see on Sunday morning if I correctly fixed the flat.  Even if I'm slow, I know I can continue to improve over the next several weeks with practice.

I know I can't get much worse!  Or can I?

Now, onto this morning's workout.  Sort of.

Yeah, sure, I ran almost 15 miles this morning on the smelly, hilly trails of Griffith Park.  But really, who cares about that.

My iPhone 4 is here, ready and operational!

I've spent the greater part of the summer and now fall with a pay-as-you-go T-mobile phone.  Is there such a thing as a functional piece of junk?  I've now officially joined the 21st century!  I can be like the cool kids once and for all!  I look forward to walking around as nothing but a silhouette with neon colors all around me as I bop and rock to my favorite hipster tunes.  Star Wars lightsaber app, here I come!  Fart noise app?  Yep, sign me up!  Training Peaks and any other number of triathlon-related apps, OMG I can't wait!

I haven't been this excited about racing as I have been about getting my iPhone.  I'm practically jumping for joy.  Except my legs wont' allow it after all that climbing this morning.

Back to this morning for a moment.  Running with my buddy Joe truly turned what could have been another mental slog into a joyful, fun experience.  We chatted for the first 1.5 hours of my 2.25-hour run.  We covered off on nutrition, race strategy, training schedules, lessons learned and all the other things that can occupy a triathletes mind.  Joe is going through some of the same things I did earlier in the year, so I hope I can be a good resource for him as he continues to grow as a triathlete.  After puttering along with me, Joe then took off for an hour of tempo work .  I still had another 45 minutes of solo hills work.  I didn't mind at all though, as just having someone to keep me company for a little while completely transformed my mental outlook.  Plus, I changed my normal route to include some trails I hadn't run since this past spring.  Felt good to shake things up a bit.  And that's coming from a creature of habit.

This Sunday, I'll have even more great company on my bike ride.  Frank will be joining me, as usual.  He's been a huge help this entire year whether he knows it or not.  Not sure where I'd be without him.  But Caleb is also going to join me.  Just to lend his support as well.  Caleb's Ironman is done this year, so he's literally coming out to help push me along.  He's been consistently reading the blog and commenting for the better part of the last six months.  If there's been any one new friend I've made through this sport that's helped me the most with perspective and inspiration, it's been Caleb.  Yes, athletes such as Coach Gerardo have helped me immeasurably to become a better triathlete.  And my Fortius friends have pushed me to be my best while enjoying the journey.  But Caleb, as a pro triathlete and all-around great guy, has helped me comprehend and accept that what I'm going through is totally normal -- even the best of the pros go through the cycle of fatigue, burnout, exhaustion, etc.  Without that knowledge and support -- knowing that I'm not some wussy whiner who can't hack it all the time -- maybe I would have succumbed to the fatigue instead of powering through it.  That's simply priceless.

I thought getting to my first Ironman would mostly be a solo journey. It would be me against the elements and my own body.

How wrong I was.

Without the support of others -- coaches, athletes, friends and family -- I wouldn't come close to Ironman Arizona.

And now, one very special little phone device with a million little apps that are waiting to be downloaded.

56 days and counting.

Flat But Functional

I'm procrastinating. In my office that serves as a bike garage (c'mon, you do it too!), there sits my tri bike.  She's got a flat front tire.  It will probably take me 30 minutes to change it, considering I haven't had a flat in a few months and I'm terribly slow when it comes to repairs.

While I may be physically tired from all the training, I am confident I will perform well in Arizona. I know the training will pay off.  What I don't know is how I'll respond if my bike has mechanical issues.  Actually, I do know that.  I'll respond poorly!

From here until Ironman, I need to force myself to change flats on my tri bike.  It could be the difference between a good race and a great one, or something far worse.

There may be a follow-up post tomorrow morning about my tube-changing adventure.

Fortunately, my patience is high after a great time-trial swim (1,500 yards, my longest pool TT yet) and a soothing lunchtime yoga session.  Today's training schedule was relatively light and the highlight -- besides my 1:40-1:48 T-pace (depending on how well I counted laps) -- was being able to leave work at 6:30 p.m. without thinking about another evening workout.  That's where I'm at in my training.  If I can grab free time that doesn't involve triathlon training, I'm happy.  It's so ironic that we do this for fun and yet sometimes it's the last thing we want to think or talk about.

Isn't this supposed to be a hobby!?

Anyways, since I felt smooth and efficient in the water despite my fatigue, it boosted my confidence for the remainder of the week.  I thought swimming 60 laps in the pool in one set would just be mental torture, but it wasn't too bad.  I broke it up mentally into 15x100 sets, which made the slog much more tolerable.  When it was all over, I was surprised I had room left for much more swimming.

That's how I know I'm getting in much better shape.  It takes a lot more to tire me out in one workout.  It's the cumulative effect I can't do much about.  That's why I'm having to be awakened by an alarm clock even with 8-9 hours sleep.

Tomorrow, it's time to revisit good ol' Griffith Park for 2.25 hours of trail running. Fortunately, I'll have my Fortius buddy Joe to keep me company.  He's faster than me so hopefully I'll be able to keep up, though the goal tomorrow is to keep my heart-rate in zones 1-3.  Easier said than done when I'm trying to catch a rabbit.

And so it goes. Another day of two-hour workouts down.  Another day of two-hour workouts to go.

And now, it's time to fix a flat tire.

I just realized that metaphorically speaking, I am that flat tire right now.  I can barely function in my current state.  I could use a little inflation.  I need to put in the extra time to get right, so to speak.

Heh, hopefully I'll be pumped tomorrow!

57 days and counting.

I'm Audi Here!

I have little energy to write a full post today.  Once again, I'm totally wiped out and it's not even 10 p.m.  It's not like my brick workout at Griffith Park was even that tough today.  We did just shy of an hour with some moderate climbing and around 40 minutes of light zone 3 running.  Of course, the operative word here is "we" as I got to enjoy my first group workout in what seems like weeks.  I'm starting to go a little batty spending all this training time by myself. Breaking it up with light conversation is extremely helpful this late in the season.  Anything to break up the tedium.

The real highlight of my day was getting the keys to a new 2011 Audi A8 sedan as part of a work-related make-good for something I did earlier in the year.  This Audi is like the auto equivalent of my Garmin watch.  Buttons everywhere.  More features than I know what to do with.  Seriously.  It's overwhelming.  But, if I could strut in a car, that's what I looked like traveling to and from the brick workout.  Damn, I feel like a badass in this thing!  And I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Tomorrow I've got a 1,500 swimming time trial.  That's 60 laps in the pool.  Boy, I can't wait for that!

Sorry this post sucks.  I'm just too tired to care right now.  I'll be better tomorrow.

58 days and counting.