Active Meditation

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When you're training for an endurance race, spending endless hours on your own in repetitive motion, there's plenty of time to let your mind wander. As I do the same loop on the Griffith Park bike path every Tuesday morning (MIND. NUMBING.), I've had plenty of time to think lately about how mental down time is used.  Sometimes, it's basic to-do list planning.  Other times it's used in the always popular "woulda shoulda coulda" mode.  You know, "I could've done this, should've done that, would've if only if. ..."    This often results in a downward spiral that doesn't result in anything but frustration and an inability to look beyond the past.  Which is too bad on mornings like this one where the sun finally decided to make a reappearance.

A third (more productive) option is to monitor the "Now."  "How am I feeling on this ride?"  "How is my technique?"  "Is my heart-rate in check?  If not, what can I do to fix that?"  I've found this kind of thought is especially effective in longer-duration training where looking ahead at the long day can cause dejection or a heart-rate spike.

Of course, focusing on the "Now" is difficult.  It is easy to get distracted and to get back to idle wandering.   When that happens to me -- usually after a long duration of consistent output and no real change in my energy levels -- I try to focus on what's next: planning.  Or visualization.  I ask myself how I might respond in a race under similar circumstances as I'm experiencing in that moment.  Or thinking about something my coach told me that requires some deeper analysis.  Often, this is the second-most productive kind of mental output I can create.  There's a tangible "product" in terms of a solution to a problem, and the value associated with knowing I may not have attained that solution had I not invested the time to think about it in a substantial manner.

Now hopefully you read the paragraph above and wondered how something as beneficial as planning or visualization can only be the second-best kind of thought during training.

In my opinion, here's the best kind of thought.

Ready for it?

....

....

....

NOTHING.

Emptiness.

It's that place where the "zone" exists.  You know you've been in the zone when you snap out of it, wondering how you got from Point A to Point B because you honestly don't remember any conscious thought during that span.  It often happens to us while driving, but while training?  It's rare.  There can be too many variables at play between physical sensations, weather, terrain, navigational thoughts and so forth.

When it does happen, I'd call it "active meditation."  Empty mind through repetitive motion.

But how is no thought valuable?  For me, I find it extremely valuable because the trick is there's really no such thing as "no thought."  Our minds are always racing.  Doing something.  Even when we don't know it.  That "doing something" may just be so far in the back-burner of our brain that we don't actively perceive it.

But here's what really happens.

Five hours after that "zone" experience, you're sitting in a brainstorm meeting at work.  You walk into the meeting wondering what in the hell you're going to say because you don't have a damn thing prepared.  It's not like you didn't think about it though.  You did!  It just seemed that nothing quite stuck.

Then, in the middle of the meeting, you start spewing ideas like Old Faithful.  Heads nod.  People write stuff down. You feel good, but can't help but wonder yourself...

"Where did that come from!?"  It seemed like those thoughts came out of nowhere.

In fact, they did.

This happened to me today, in fact.

For me, this is the clear connection between the benefits of training and work performance.  I can't always quantify it, and lately my work hours have been somewhat sacrificed to cram in additional training.  But I feel like when I need to come up with an answer on the spot, or make a decision under pressure, I'm able to do so more easily and with less stress.  It's the epitome of "less is more."

Maybe I have nothing to thank for that.

23 days and counting.

Info Overload

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Last night, Bob (@rcmcoach on Twitter), Leon and I met with Coach Gerardo to discuss our Ironman Arizona and Silverman race strategy plans.  Gerardo's kitchen served as our war room. We met for nearly two full hours discussing pre-race, race and post-race tips, tricks and lessons learned.  We got so detailed that we discussed counting calories, salt intake, what time to wake up on race day, what time to eat, even exactly what to pack in our special needs bags on the bike and run courses. That's just a fraction of the information we ingested.  I almost have information digestion issues!

It was exactly the kind of experience where I realized how valuable having a triathlon coach can be.  I can't imagine going into this race not being armed with the four pages of notes now stored in my computer.

The biggest thing I learned during those two hours is how regimented the days and hours leading to the race may be regimented.  It's almost like the science of the sport suddenly takes over.  And considering I'm a "feel" guy more than a numbers cruncher, it will be an interesting experience for me.

Right after posting this, I'm going back over my notes.  I need to reorganize them.  Prioritize them again.  And perhaps most important, I need to share them with those family and friends coming to cheer me on.  There will be a lot they need to know.

I will also share some of those tips here, though I need to keep them appropriately vague. Not because I don't want to share them with the competition.  No, it's not that at all. I'm not trying to qualify for Kona.  It's out of respect for Coach Gerardo, who has amassed his knowledge and experience from more than 70 triathlons and his share of Ironman-distance races. My fellow Fortius Coaching teammates pay for that access, and it would be unfair to him if I just openly blabbed that data to the world.  I think I did that for Vineman 70.3 without really thinking it through, and I need to find a better balance between being a paying client and a blogger who shares anything and everything.

So, you'll just have to trust me when I say I'm feeling very well prepared for Ironman Arizona. Physically, mentally, and hopefully emotionally.  I'll share what I can hopefully tomorrow, though I'm going to show Gerardo first to make sure it's not too proprietary.

For now though, it's back to the gym.  Back to the roads.  Back to the pool.  There's still one more week where I can make gains for IMAZ.  Then, the real taper starts.  Mentally, it started for me this week as I "only" have 18 hours of training compared to the 19-plus and nearly 21 hours I did this past week.  So, 18 is a cakewalk by comparison.

Even after this past weekend's training, I feel great.  Sure, I'm sore and tight.  But, I know I have more left in the tank for one more push to improve over the next several days.  I'm going to take that seriously.  I know there's something left to eke out of my performance. I'm not sure where.  Maybe it's a smoother feeling on the run in the latter miles.  Maybe it's a loosening of my quads and thighs on the bike, or being able to swim more smoothly for longer.  Whatever it is, I'll find it this week.

That, I can share with you.

24 days and counting.

Whoops!

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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.

The Crucible

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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 Mind, Free Body

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"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

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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.

A Happy Fall-Ure

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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.

Bad Luck Monday

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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.

Head Games

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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:

Video and Lyrics

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.