Ryan Schneider's Diary of Ironman Training & Life in General
A) I survived this weekend. With flying colors. Feeling great. B) I'm in a meeting with Coach Gerardo, Bob and Leon to discuss our Ironman race strategy. I've got three pages of notes so far.
C) Watch this space tomorrow for an in-depth blog about what I'm learning.
D) 25 days and counting!!
The good news first: I cycled 61 miles in three hours and then promptly ran 18.5 miles in three hours.
The not-so-good news: I didn't need to, nor was I supposed to.
Today and tomorrow were supposed to be what I had called The Crucible. I thought I was supposed to run three hours back-to-back as a final stamina test going into my taper. I had visions of that scene in Full Metal Jacket where the recruits are running through mud as Private Joker talks about how they're all ready to eat guts and ask for seconds. That's how I felt going into the weekend, but clearly I need to have my vision checked instead.
The intended workout? A five-hour bike ride followed by an hour run.
How did I confuse that? I saw "brick" on my Training Peaks workout for today and had confused a prior conversation with Coach Gerardo about three hour-bricks.
Whoops!
Fortunately, Gerardo was cool about it. He said the workout was still valuable and wouldn't throw off my schedule. Tomorrow, instead of a three-hour run (which really was on the schedule) I now have another three-hour bike ride followed by a 30-minute run. I still have my two-mile swim.
Indeed, the workout was valuable. On the bike, the winds were a little more moderate and I maintained an 20 mph average. A tailwind helped but the cross-winds probably helped balance things out a bit. More important was the run. I thought I was capable of running 16 miles in three hours after cycling three hours. I managed 18.5 miles while largely maintaining my heart-rate in heart-rate zones 2-3 (142-152, 152-158). By the end of the run I was definitely hurting, thinking how difficult an actual Ironman is going to be with an extra 50 miles on the bike and 7.5 miles on the run, not to mention swimming 2.4 miles. Frankly, I know I'm going to be in a lot of pain, beyond what I experienced today. That alone was a wake-up call, but luckily I felt that I could have continued on the run if need-be. The main challenge was being able to lift my legs high enough off the ground to maintain a decent stride, but I'll have to improvise as best I can come race day. I'll get through it, that much I know.
Despite my scheduling mistake today, mentally I'm thrilled. I don't think I would have changed my workout even if I knew it was different. Perhaps I needed that kind of long run after a long-ish bike, therefore willing it in my mind to happen. I was prepared to go aggro this weekend and give it everything I have. That said, I wasn't sure how I'd fare with a back-to-back three-hour run and now I don't have to find out. Even though I'm sore and barely mobile on the couch, I know I can handle tomorrow's training. Which is kinda crazy in itself when I realize I essentially did more than a Half-Ironman today minus the swim portion.
Finally, when I got home and before I discovered the error of my workout ways, I was treated to a nice note from Stephanie congratulating me on my accomplishments. Since I trained solo today (Caleb couldn't make it), it was nice to have someone else acknowledge what I went through. I got that and more both from Steph and her mom. As I sat exhausted in Starbucks with instant cold med-packs applied to my legs, it was the perfect medicine.
So now, after the ice, after the Epsom salt bath, after the shower, after a third meal (protein shake), I'm concluding my evening.
The final push continues tomorrow, with Bob. I'm tired, but I'm more than ready.
26 days and counting.
As I understand it, the traditional final major act Camp Pendleton Marine recruits go through before actually becoming MARINES involves something called The Crucible. I don't know exactly what it entails, but I do know there's significant physical and mental hardship imposed on the hardened young soldiers. I know it's a rite of passage, as well as a bonding ritual. I'm viewing tomorrow's and Sunday's training sessions in similar fashion. My own personal Crucible. Tomorrow features a six-hour brick workout and Sunday is a 2.4-swim followed by a three-hour run. By the end of this weekend, I'll have trained close to 11 hours. I'll probably bike around 56 miles and run about 32.
The thought of doing that is more mentally daunting than a physical fear. Staying mentally sharp for that period of time in a non-race mindset will be a challenge. I realize that is exactly what will be required of me for Ironman Arizona. But tomorrow is not that day just yet. However, I need to pass through this Crucible. The final weekend of build training before the taper period. Untold thousands of Ironman triathletes have gone through the same final test of physical and mental fortitude. Tomorrow is my turn.
Fortunately, I should have help. My buddy Caleb will likely join tomorrow's workout, and Bob (who also is racing IMAZ) will be my training partner on Sunday. The weather looks like it will cooperate as well. Though it will be cold in Fillmore, it likely won't rain. I cannot possibly imagine doing a six-hour brick in a gym. That might be too much for even me to handle without going stir crazy.
I'm not sure how I'm going to break up the workouts this weekend to stay mentally engaged. In talking with Stephanie about it, I'll probably look at doing it by bike loops (1.75) or time (1.5 hours roughly per loop). I'm also debating bringing music on the run. I know I should train like it's a race, but if I'm running by myself with nobody else on the road essentially, that's not a race day condition either. On the flip side, I want to make sure I can hear traffic. I'll see how I feel when I wake up tomorrow.
For now, it's off to hang out with Steph for a while since we won't see much of each other this weekend. This is perhaps the toughest part of Ironman training for us both. It's the period where I need maximum time to train and recover, and sadly that can come at the expense of our quality time. We're making the most of it, as we dined together tonight interviewing a potential wedding photographer, and now we're going to spend some quiet time alone after a trying week.
The Crucible is finally here.
27 days and counting.
"Free your mind, and your body will follow." "Free your mind, and your body will follow."
That is how my massage with LA Body Mechanics' David ended tonight, with his words imploring me to relax and focus going into my final month of Ironman training.
It's funny, because I've been hearing that statement echoed in some form from various sources over the past several days. Whether it's from fellow triathletes who have completed an Ironman, massage therapists, or yoga instructors, it's the same message. Relax, don't over think things, and let your body do what it's capable of without complicating matters.
I feel like I have been doing that for weeks, if not months now. I've learned over the past year that your body will do what your brain tells it to, as long as there's enough fuel in the tank to do it. It's as simple as that.
Yet I think that those who know me well realize that I tend to heavily analyze things that matter most to me and perhaps they're concerned I'll somehow psyche myself out prior to the big event.
Let me assure you -- heck, let me assure myself -- that this won't happen.
Like I wrote the other night in my "fallure" blog post, I already am an Ironman in spirit. I don't need this race to validate my training, my conditioning, or the fact that I put in the hard work. It's all right here for everyone to see. Yes, I want the finisher's medal. I want it bad. But I'm not going to torture myself thinking of every conceivable detail about how the race should be run to finish in a certain time. I will have a strategy in mind, which Coach Gerardo is going to help me with this coming Sunday evening. But I'm also going to let the race come to me. After all, what if I do a bunch of planning for a race based on a clear, sunny day and it's raining? Or what if I get a couple flat tires? There's no point in getting riled up about all that.
So as I really head into the final stretch of training, where is my head at? I'll tell you. It's in the here and now. Though I'm sneaking a peek to November 21 as well. Nothing more, nothing less.
There's still a lot more work to do.
28 days and counting
Pooped, as in I'm exhausted and needing sleep immediately. Not pooped as in, well, you know. Thanks to the sporadic Southern California rains today, I completed my three-hour brick indoors at our office complex gym. I cycled solo for 30 minutes on a spin bike and then joined Shannon's 5 p.m. spin class for the next hour. I wore the wrong clothes, a long sleeve technical shirt meant for winter outdoor training, causing me to sweat even more than usual. Then, I spent the next 1.5 hours on the treadmill running slower than normal. My workout called for heart-rate zones 2-3 only, so I opted to increase the incline to 2% and run a little slower instead of a higher pace. By the end of the three hours, you could wring out my bike shorts and the second shirt I had changed into. I needed two towels to lay out on the stretching mat so as not to soak it.
I wish I could say it was a great workout. But I can't. It was one of those days you simply just get through. Did I get any better? Probably not. Did I gain some crucial insight that will help me on race day? Not really, other than further confirming my marathon time will likely be anywhere from 4:20-5 hours. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. This off-season and next year I really want to focus on improving my run mechanics.
I'm halfway through my big training peak week. I'm taking it one day at a time right now, but am starting to feel the strain just a bit. And getting up tomorrow at 5:30 a.m. isn't going to help for 3,000-plus yards in the pool.
So with that, I'm bidding you goodnight. At least I have a massage tomorrow night with David from LA Body Mechanics to look forward to. And one day closer to getting through the week. Sometimes that's all the motivation I need.
29 days and counting.
My dad and late grandfather are the two men I look up to the most. My work ethic comes from them. So does my passionate nature. My sense of honor and integrity. And yes, my temper too. One of my favorite things about my father is that he always sends me articles to read. Whether they're on business, life, or sport, it doesn't matter. They all have one thing in common: Improvement. My father lives that credo every day himself. He's constantly reading and more impressive, applying those learned principles in his 30-year-old automotive repair business.
Once a week, I can count on there being an article in my inbox that he'd like me to read and comment on. Today's article was so good I'm going to share it with you and offer both him and you my response.
The author is Jonathan Fields, who sounds like a really cool dude. My kind of guy. Into a lot of different kinds of things. In today's blog post, Jonathan wrote about what legendary author Jim Collins said is the difference between failure and what he calls "fall-ure" For the non-click inclined, here's his definition (using rock climbing as a metaphor):
"Failure is when you get to the crux, start to feel your legs shaking, your forearms and fingers flaming out, your nerves rattling and focus flagging…then just choose to give up, peel off and hang on the rope.
Fall-ure is when you get to that same place. Heart pumping, sweat pouring from places you didn’t know you could sweat, ground a distant memory and, instead of choosing to let go, you commit fully to the next scary-as-hell move. You go for it with everything you have…and still fall.
Failure is about going most of the way, then bailing on your defining moment.
Fall-ure is about going all of the way, then falling in the utterly committed pursuit of a quest.
And, the difference, the willingness to go all-in and fail at the biggest moments, is very often the difference between epic journeys and a lifetime of excuses."
My father thought this aptly described my journey towards Ironman Arizona and wanted to know what I thought about that.
Well, Dad, here's what I think.
When I first read this post I was so moved that I lost my breath for a moment. I believe that I have pursued fall-ure my entire life, weird as that may sound. And now there's a made-up term to describe that feeling. Words to define an instinct. Whether my desire to pursue fall-ure was taught or self-learned, I'm not sure. I think, Dad, that you and I are the same in this regard. So I believe we both learned it from your father, my grandfather. Whether it was trying out for teams I had no business making (how many times did it take before making Hillside's basketball team?), or winding up in places I never belonged (how many times was I told "no" before scoring a press pass to the Reagan Library opening?), I've never let that fear of rejection or the unknown stop me. And one need not look further than my relationship with my fiance to confirm that in all areas of my life, I've risked everything (and sometimes failed in the process) to do what I think is either best for me or a goal I want to achieve.
So, as it pertains to this odyssey that is the Ironman, I could very well drop off the proverbial cliff come race day. I might get sick. Or crash. Or just have a bad day. But, one thing I won't do that day is fail. I've trained 550 hours so far not to fail. The actual race is 17 hours or less.
Were I not to finish at Ironman Arizona, I would not consider it a failure. Unless I simply quit, which would never happen. They will have to drag me off that course or I'm crossing that finish line. This is my final build week before heading into a three-week taper. I've done the work. I've passed the tests, week after week, rain or shine (like today, where I biked two hours in the damp, rainy LA basin). At every crux, I've climbed. And when I've slipped, I've found a new crux to leverage.
I think that's the bottom line in triathlon. If we continually push ourselves, we can't fail. If we bonk, it's a lesson, not a judgement. If we crash, it's a DNF, not a Did Not Compete. We show up. We race. We practice. We learn. We grow. We do it again.
No matter what the results say, there is no failure in that.
But if we're not trying to outdo ourselves each time, there cannot be fall-ure either.
So, Dad, I hope you can live with your son being a total fall-ure.
And for what it's worth, I think you're a fall-ure too.
30 days and counting.
PS: In case you missed it, my latest article for Lava Magazine is now live on their website. It's about balancing relationships and training. I think we could all use some help in this area! Here's the link.
There are certain days when the best thing to do is stay in bed. Avoid showers. Avoid going to the bathroom. In other words, for better or worse, don't move. And for heaven's sakes, don't train! That best describes my past 24 hours. I've been attacked by a series of silly bad luck papercuts, adding up to one bizarre day:
-- I spilled a bottle filled with Accelerade in my gym bag last night, likely ruining the camera that has taken most of the photos you've seen in this blog.
-- Earlier today, I took an involuntary shower when the lid to another water bottle wasn't secured tightly enough as I tilted it down towards my face.
-- I had a problem with the condo at home this morning that required me to stay there until the early afternoon.
-- On the way into the office today, I ordered lunch from my local Baja Fresh. The same spot I go practically every week once if not twice. I order the same thing for the most part, alternating between burrito plate, taco plate and fajita plate. Today, for the first time in the years I've gone there, they screwed up the order -- loading my burrito up with sour cream. Which, of course, I encountered the hard way. I HATE sour cream.
Fortunately, today is a recovery day from training. Not much can go wrong with an easy spin on the trainer (which went off without a hitch, thankfully) and a yoga session (still to come, fingers and legs crossed!). I'm actually doing yoga at home tonight since I think I'm done venturing outside for one day.
I can't believe I'm here in one piece still!
Tomorrow and Wednesday it's supposed to rain. Maybe it's a sign that I should continue to stay indoors and ride the spin bike or trainer. Only time will tell, unless the power goes out on my alarm clock. At this pace, I better not joke about it!
32 days and counting.
Before I get started, a couple quick updates: 1) Yes, I fixed the chain. I was in the wrong gearing setting to have enough room off the chain guard to fix the issue. Silly me!
2) Check out the new Fortius Racing kits! This is what I'll be wearing come race day at Ironman Arizona.
Now, I return you to today's regularly scheduled blog.
When it comes to my Ironman training, there are two questions I get asked the most:
1) Why do you do this to yourself?
2) What the hell do you think about for 2.4 miles in the water, 112 miles on the bike and 26.2 miles on the road?
Those of you who have followed me from the beginning know why I am doing this to myself.
As for what I'm thinking about for hours at a time sans iPod or training partners, it varies. I suspect I think about many of the same things you do. Work. Love. All the football games I'm missing while training.
This past Saturday, as I fought 56 miles of headwinds on the 126 Highway in Santa Clarita, I didn't think about much. Instead, I had an internal soundtrack playing in my head. Which for me, happens fairly often. It's as if I'm a mental video editor. A song comes to me, images accompany the music, and I'm inspired and entertained while being mentally transported somewhere else. My eyes are on the road and while they see the ground in front of me, they're locked onto something else. Something bigger.
This weekend, that meant more Muse. Ever since seeing the band a couple weeks ago, I can't get them out of my head. I'm literally playing my favorite songs over and over and over again in the car or if I have a spare moment to chill out.
Up in the mental jukebox this time was Map of the Problematique:
My "video" kept me engaged for hours. The narrator: Of course, the voice of the Ironman DVD specials. The scenery: Kona. The competitors: Elite pros. The drama: Weather, heat, pain, suffering, elation.
What's funny to me is that I'm nowhere to be found in this story. It doesn't matter. Whatever it takes to get through these workouts. Where I'm at in my training, 115 miles on the bike and a 30 minute run Saturday followed by 16.6 miles trail running (in heavy, wet fog leaving me soaked to the bone) and 2,300 yards in the pool today... I'll take my motivation, inspiration and entertainment any way I can get it. Even if I have to make it up myself.
Incidentally, I was further entertained on Saturday by finding the spot in Fillmore where my company's live-action trailer for Resistance 3 was filmed. Here are a couple photos of the train yard where the old train cars from the trailer are housed in a special museum. I also rode past the bridge where in the trailer you can spot a Widowmaker and a couple Grims. Fortunately, I didn't see any of the above. 
Forgive me, I was envisioning something else anyways.
33 days and counting.
Thanks to a half-day at work and and an off-day from training, I enjoyed a true rest day. Ah, so this is what it's like?
I got home around 1:30 p.m. and, after catching up on HBO's "Boardwalk Empire" (Al Capone's character steals the show in this series), I took an hour nap. What a luxury! I was only awakened once by Trudy and Bam-Bam, which isn't bad in the middle of the day.
Instead of feeling run down at the end of a work week, I feel refreshed and eager to get on the bike tomorrow for another 112-mile jaunt. Except, in my eagerness to clean said bike I popped the chain while applying White Lightning chain greaser. I was flipping through the gears and cleaning the chain when I dropped into the smaller chain gear and watched in astonishment as the chain bunched up like a train wreck around the crank. I tried fixing it based on what I'd normally do if I dropped the chain on a ride. This seems worse. The chain is completely separated from the crank and pedal, just dangling there helplessly. Fortunately, I'm riding with Frank tomorrow and he'll help me fix it.
Well, at least my bike is pretty.
This sort of mechanical problem is what I'm most afraid of for Ironman Arizona. While it's unlikely I'll drop a chain on a flat course, if I get a rear tire flat I'm going to be in trouble. I plan to practice over the next few weeks, as I've mentioned in past posts. But it's especially frightening to think a silly chain derailment could be the difference between meeting my goals and a big fat DNF.
If anyone has any suggestions on how to easily pop the chain back on when it's separated from the crank, I'm all ears.
Until then, I'll continue to rest. And avoid touching anything that has moving parts.
35 days and counting.
I've trained nine hours this week, with another nine to go. The last two days have been especially intense though. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I could have taken the easy way out. Coach Gerardo gave me only 16 hours originally but I asked/begged/demanded more work. I'm so glad I did. Finally, I can appreciate what he meant by embracing the challenge of the distances involved in my training. Just getting through this week feels special. Today's workouts included a difficult 2,300-yard swim at 6 a.m. followed by cycling hill repeats and 20 minutes in zone three aero after that. Two hours, 20 minutes of hard work. My quads howled by the end of the bike workout, yet I felt so accomplished that I let out a primal yell to nobody in particular. I didn't care if it startled people along the Griffith Park walkway or if people thought I was crazy.
We already know I am. And by "we" I only mean you and me, not my "other" personalities.
Kidding.
Really.
Now I'm winding down for the evening, after a busy day of work. A good day of work, I might add. Despite my fatigue, I felt fresh in meetings and on my "A" game. My father shared an article with me about how a prominent business executive makes sure he's moving when he's thinking because it allows him to think better. I believe there's something to that. As long as I get enough rest and eat well, I definitely can see a connection between staying active and staying sharp. I wonder if other people feel the same. It's almost like fitness is the metaphorical equivalent of dressing up for work. I used to find that if I dressed dapper in the office, my performance would follow suit. Now, toss out the tie, replace it with the bike shorts, and voila!
Tomorrow, we have a half-day off from work. Despite my nine hours of torture -- training -- I'm inclined to work out some more. I won't, because I can hear Gerardo from Texas telling me how bad of an idea that would be.
Can't peak too soon.
36 days and counting.
PS: I still need to compare my running threshold data from the last "official" test to yesterday's TT. However, I think the last test measured a mile run and this was more about 20 minutes maintaining a certain heart rate and pace. So it might be apples to oranges. My first glance indicates I ran a mile 11 seconds faster yesterday and more miles in general. Interestingly, my heart rate was roughly the same (high 160s).