Ramping Up, Slowing Down

My vacation has felt like anything but. Though my "office" work has declined, my writing has increased.  I'm working on two columns for Lava, a story for the Fortius website and I'm trying to keep up with blogging.

I'm living on my keyboard. And loving it.  This is what I was always meant to do, but I knew it would be difficult to make a living as a journalist.  Hence, focusing on marketing and public relations starting my senior year of college.  It took me several years after graduation though to realize I could continue my writing career while paying the bills doing something else I enjoy.

Career Nirvana.

I actually prefer this approach even if I could make a career writing full-time.  Growing up, I was a sportswriter (stringer) for the Simi Valley Enterprise, LA Daily News and ultimately my high school and college newspapers.  I found that when I became the college basketball beat reporter for the Arizona Daily Wildcat that college basketball became less fun.  It became "work."  So the more I can truly enjoy writing for its own sake, the better off I'll be.

I wish the same could be said for my training right now.  My IT bands continue to bother me, and I'm just not healing the way I thought I would from Ironman Arizona.  Even though the desire is there, I find that each workout is still filled with annoying locking in my right leg.  Which makes it a little less enjoyable.  There's no Nirvana.  No vacation.  Just work, without the sense of accomplishment.

I now realize that it's probably time to slow down on the pedaling, the kicking and the running. I need to listen to my body.  I can't just will it to get better.  I may have to live with writing about triathlon for the time being and not being as active a participant as I'd like.

I wonder how I'll get through that.  The Surf City Marathon is now in jeopardy.  So is the Los Angeles Half-Marathon I just signed up for.

Writing will become my new training.  My healing process.  My dealing process.

I think it will help.  Like a counter-balance.

For those of you going through injuries as well, we'll get through this together.  I'll help you.  You help me.

Deal?

184 days and counting.

Rainy Training

I'm on vacation. I keep telling myself that when I roll out of bed at 7:30 to start my day.  Especially on days like today when it's raining out and I'm going trail running on two less than 100% legs.

Since I have the time off though, how could I not take advantage of it?  Surely it would be a greater crime to have all this free time and not spend it training at least a little bit, right?

Right?

So off I drove, straight into a massive cloud bank at the Dirt Mulholland trail near the Nike Missile site.  You've seen the images in the past here in the blog so you have a vague idea of what the terrain looks like.  Today, you couldn't see anything up there!  If the zombie apocalypse were to begin in Encino Hills, I wouldn't have known it until it was far too late. I'm talking about 20 feet visibility tops.  Fortunately, I wore a poncho and two layers of technical shirts and fleecewear to keep me reasonably warm for my two-hour run.

I know that one year ago, there's no way I would have ran today. But poor weather is so rare here that I feel compelled to take advantage of an opportunity to harden me up.  I don't want to enter anymore races where I'm concerned about or even fearful of weather.  That's a promise I made to myself almost immediately after Ironman Arizona concluded.

My legs made it through most of the run pain-free.  But "pain" is a subjective term here.  Was in excruciating pain?  No, not at all.  Did I feel tightness in my right leg at the IT band juncture on my knee? Most definitely.  My left knee fared far better than it has in the weeks following IMAZ.  So that's progress.  Still, later today my right knee required an icing treatment to keep the inflammation down.

Following my run I was soaked to the bone, to the point where I could barely open the locks to my car door because my fingers were borderline numb.  Yet I drove home feeling good and satisfied I took a mental step forward in my training today.  I know it's a little crazy. A bit hardcore.  And I'm still thinking that maybe I'm training too much too soon following IMAZ.  But, I kept a promise with myself.  And for that, I'm proud.

186 days and counting.

Trivial Pursuits

I was prepared to write all about my  first ART session today in Brentwood with Benjamin W. Kleinbrodt, DC, CCSP.  I was eager to share all the details of how jacked up my body is structurally, how Ben gasped as I showed off my bare legs and said "it's a miracle I can do any (endurance events) at all" based on my pronated ("super flat") feet, inversely rotated tibias, and a generally crooked and ill-proportioned body. Then, this evening, I volunteered at a homeless shelter on Skid Row preparing and serving meals.

I am humbled and embarrassed. So much of this blog space has been devoted to what I feel or think about triathlon. I live inside my head.  In my own world.  Deep in the "pain cave" or the "hurt locker" at times.  Where it's solitary confinement by choice.  Many of us triathletes live there, by choice.  And yet while I (we?) think about our mileage and our raw, organic meals or exactly when in the day we should have our next protein shake, tens of thousands of people in my city alone are wondering when they're going to eat next.  Their pain cave is a lot deeper, a lot colder and infinitely harsher.

I am simply shell-shocked tonight.  I'm ashamed to write that I've never been to a homeless shelter.  Until this moment, "the homeless" have mostly been a group I could disassociate with.  I could write a check to a cause and consider myself a good person.  But interact with them?  Surely that was someone else's responsibility.  If a homeless person approached and I had money, I'd almost always give it (remember this summer's "drug bust"???).  So I'd smile within and think, "That was a nice mitzvah (good deed) I just did.  I'm a good person."  But I'd also just as easily try to cross the street or avoid eye contact.

Tonight, I met several people without homes.  And I emphasize PEOPLE.  People who have bad luck.  Or are ill.  Or maybe haven't been the nicest or the best they could be.  But, as I looked at every person I could who humbly put their hands out for a hot plate of food, I saw two eyes looking back at me.  Real people.  Not covered in blankets.  Not shrouded in the dark, or cocooned in a sleeping bag with a cup to leave some money.  Functioning people in regular clothes, some with kids, some full families.  And the food line just kept growing, so much so that the kitchen had to close and three hungry people were turned away.

What a wake-up call.

We are all lucky to have lives where we can challenge ourselves on a higher level. We have the means and the resources to pursue being our best.  But I have been guilty of focusing too much on one journey -- achievement -- at the expense of another -- fellowship.  Have I really been pushing myself to be the best I can be if it took 36 years before I saw the inside of a homeless shelter?

Tonight that changes forever. Stephanie and I will volunteer at the homeless shelter more often.  I have to.  It is already done.

I love triathlon.  I love the lessons I've learned from the sport.  But tonight I was reminded of perhaps the toughest lesson of all about it: It can be a selfish pursuit.  Ultimately, helping someone get a hot meal is a lot more important.  And a lot more satisfying.

My life changed tonight.  And I've never been more ashamed to admit it.  I should have been doing this years ago.

187 days and counting.

Runny Buddy

I awoke 45 minutes earlier than usual for my morning workout. After a long year of training alone, you'll do that in order to meet up with a training partner.  My friend and co-worker, John, is training for the Surf City Half Marathon, his first.  John and I have been training together for years now, starting off in the old temporary gym at our office complex.  During the past couple years, John has caught the running bug, and it's bitten back.  He's found the podium on more than one occasion for several 5k and 10k races, and is now preparing for his longest distance yet.

So, every Wednesday morning from here until Surf City, John and I will be meeting at 7 a.m. at Griffith Park to run the many trails and hills.  I couldn't be happier about that.  Despite two creaky knees and flaming IT bands, I kept up for the most part, though I think John was being gracious.  We talked about life, work, racing and training.  As John pointed out, the miles and minutes melt away when you have good humor and good conversation.

My legs fared better today than they did on my first trail run post-Ironman.  However, I'm not sure I could have done much more than the seven miles we covered in roughly 1:15:00 over hilly terrain.  I'm encouraged that my fastest mile seemed to be my last, though I couldn't tell since I didn't run with a heart-rate monitor.  Technically, I forgot it, but I'm glad I did. I truly am enjoying running for its own sake, though really the company and conversation made the biggest difference.

Unfortunately, as I type this tonight, my legs feel like garbage.  The muscles in my hips and groin are tight and stabbing me with pain.  My IT bands are locked.

In other words, I am not in a good place physically right now.

That may also be attributed to visiting Shannan, my trainer, following the morning run.  I realize that in order to improve my performance in races I need to strengthen my muscles.  Shannan immediately pointed out some deficiencies in the alignment of my knees, showing that my right knee especially droops inward when I put all my weight on it.  This is evidenced by many running race photos I've seen where it seems like my legs are collapsing inward (almost like an AT-AT Walker being lassoed by a Rebel fighter on Hoth) upon their own weight.  Shannan designed an anatomical adaptation regimen for the next four weeks to help me restore some balance and strength in my legs, glutes and core.

I did parts of that workout following the trail run though, which may be contributing to my soreness/pain this evening.

Still, I don't regret that at all.  I know I should probably be tired mentally but I'm completely fired up to be back training again. I've caught fire emotionally and mentally. I am confident the physical side will catch up in time and plan to keep training as best I can.  One lesson I'm learning so far is that I can indeed run through IT band pain if I need to.  I wonder if I panicked a bit unnecessarily at IMAZ when my IT band locked up.  With some pain gel, some walking and stretching on my own I might have saved a lot of time. Hard to say though.

Starting tomorrow, I'll have a lot more time to train over the next week.  I'm officially off work until January 4.  Done for the year!  I really can't believe it.  I've now been at Insomniac seven years!  I'm going to really relax and enjoy my free time as well as my training.  Part of my day though will be spent at an Active Release Therapy clinic in Brentwood, where my legs will get some much-needed sports massage work.  I know it will be painful. Probably as painful as at IMAZ.  But if my body can catch up to my brain and heart right now, it will be worth it.

188 days and counting.

One Mile at a Time

Lately a lot of folks at holiday parties or social gatherings have asked me about my Ironman experience.  To be honest, I've been shocked by the outpouring of interest. I thought people would be sick of it by now, with the blog, my Facebook/Twitter updates, etc.  Heck, I'm sick of it!!!!  It's gotten to the point where I'm almost ashamed to speak about triathlon in front of Stephanie because I'm sure she's sick of hearing it over and over even more than I am feeling. But my friends (and even people I rarely keep in touch with) want to know how the race felt, what the training was like, how I persevered through the weather and the pain on race day.  What crossing the finish line felt like.

Despite feeling inspired or excited, every conversation typically ends with the other participant saying, "That is insane.  I could never do that."

They're right.

And I think it's just as insane to not even consider it if you have the desire to try.

With that kind of attitude they never will complete an Ironman, or any triathlon for that matter. Or the metaphorical equivalent.  It's amazing to me these folks have accomplished much at all with that approach.  And the thing is, they've all achieved so much whether it's in their careers, their education or some other personal activity.

I don't blame anyone though for saying it's seemingly impossible.  If you look at Ironman solely as a singular achievement, a mammoth destination without the journey that comes with it, it can look like an Everest.  But, as I try to tell my friends, if you look at Ironman the same way you look at going to school -- taking a step forward every day, learning something new every day, improving incrementally and expanding your capabilities -- it's not quite as intimidating.

And this time, the only person grading you is yourself!  The only tests you take are the ones you assign, or maybe they're from a coach that you hire.

One day at a time.  One mile at a time.  One lesson at a time.  One test at a time.

If you focus on that and not the destination itself, you'll find you've arrived a lot quicker than you anticipated -- and maybe a little faster too.

Certainly a little wiser.

An Ironman is not out of reach. It is within all of our grasps ... if we want it bad enough.

189 days and counting.

Back in the Saddle

You know it's been a while since your last bike ride when you have to think hard about what to pack in your gear bag beforehand. And you get out of the car at the meeting spot with your teammates realizing you forgot your helmet.

That's how my morning started with a few folks from the Fortius team (Mike, Tom, and Yolanda) in Northridge.  Fortunately, Tom lived nearby and was kind enough to retrieve a back-up helmet.  The only thing is, Tom is about 6"5 and weighs nearly twice as much (which I mean in the most respectful way, Tom!).  So, his helmet size is a wee bit larger.  I had to borrow a hat from Mike and tighten the helmet straps all the way to keep it remotely close to snug on my head.  My shadow image made my head look like a mushroom.

I needed the helmet to be as tight as possible because the winds heading out to Santa Clarita Valley were nearly as punishing as Ironman Arizona.  What a way to return to outdoor cycling for the first time since the race. I certainly had a few flashbacks as I got tossed from one side of the bike lane to the other from the nasty crosswinds. At one point, my makeshift helmet blew backwards, causing my hat brim to blow upward and almost right off my head!  It was a sorry sight to see.

Mike and I rode with Tom for the first hour of his scheduled four-hour journey. Yolanda headed back a little early.  Since Mike ran the CIM marathon last week, our pace was leisurely at best. We meandered through 26 miles in around two hours, though that included lots of elevation and a few breaks.  I didn't wear my Garmin watch since I just wanted to enjoy the ride. I'm trying to find that happy place where the training is "fun" again, and one way I'm planning to do that is through taking a bit easier on analyzing all the data for the time being.  I know what I need to do to recover, and a big chunk of that process will involve simply smiling and joking more during workouts instead of staring at my watch as often.

That said, I had a thought during an especially long, windy, uphill climb this morning.  I should have trained in poorer weather conditions more often this past season.  Granted, that can be easier said than done in pristine Southern California.  However, I think my psyche was HOPING for great weather in Tempe rather training as hard as I could have to account for less-than-ideal conditions.

How do you walk the line between enjoying your training and finding nasty weather to improve?

I made a pledge to myself this morning that I will hunt down wind, rain, cold and heat more often this coming year.  It's sort of a training resolution.  Though I have great respect for Mother Nature, I'm not going to be afraid of her.  I think that mentality, along with a worry about my ability to fix flats on my own, kept me from reaching my full potential this past year.

No more.

Training smarter, in this instance, may mean training harder.

And while the results on a per-workout basis may not be pleasant to view, it may pay off in Idaho this summer.  I'm not sure what the race conditions will be there, but whatever they are, I want to be ready for them.

After Mike and I returned from our ride, I drove to Simi Valley visit my parents and to meet my dad for an impromptu lunch at my favorite barbecue joint not located in Austin, Texas.  As you can see here, my appetite continues to grow.  I've now gained about seven pounds post Ironman, with no end in sight.  Both my parents commented that I look much healthier and less gaunt.  Too bad most of these pounds are probably garbage weight from one too many helpings of cookies, steaks, shakes and cupcakes.

Shhh, it'll be our little secret.

Tomorrow, I have my first week of officially scheduled IM CdA training workouts.  The real work begins again.  No more "do whatever you want" workouts. My three-week training holiday is drawing to a close.  I'm sad about that on one hand.  I've gotten a glimpse back into the good life of spending lots of free time with Stephanie, sleeping in late and generally being lazy.  On the other hand, I can feel my body changing for the worse.  My legs are tighter.  I've been a little moodier the past few days as well.

So, back in the saddle, again.  With a renewed sense of purpose (become a better, smarter triathlete), a new goal in mind (beat my IMAZ time), a new plan in my head (have more fun this season, but push myself a little harder), and a lot more confidence (I know what it takes to be an Ironman).

I hope you'll continue to go on the journey with me.

191 days and counting.

Benefits to a Late-Season Race

I am learning that the holidays are the perfect excuse for an extended hiatus from training. It's not that I don't want to train.  I do, legitimately.  In fact, I swam a whopping half-hour, ran three miles and spun for a little more than an hour this week.

Of course, I used to do that as a warm up in Ironman training, but hey, let's not be too harsh right now.  I have a delicate ego at the moment.  Steph teased this morning that she found lint in my belly button (TMI?), and the only thing that ran through my mind was, "That means there's a belly now large enough to have lint again!"

We triathletes are a messed up bunch, aren't we!?

But thank goodness for the holidays.  The timing for Ironman Arizona really couldn't be much better.  You run the race, you recover, you eat a lot of turkey, you catch your breath, light some Hanukkah candles, light some birthday candles (happy birthday, Stephanie!) and BAM!  Christmas is around the corner, along with all the year-end holiday parties.  So, with such a schedule to keep, it's easy to let training fall by the wayside a bit.  Could you ask for a better excuse?  Our significant others, friends and families have put up with so much crap from us for the rest of the year, a year-end race has a built-in recovery period that forces other priorities to take their rightful place atop the life podium.

The holidays also provide an opportunity to socialize with our spandex-clad warriors in arms sans swim, bike or run gear.  Last night, for example, Fortius teammate, friend and massage therapist David co-hosted a 1920's themed birthday party in Los Angeles.  Several teammates and LA Tri Club members showed up, the vast majority sporting period-appropriate costumes.  We looked uniform, as usual, but with a different flair and lighter attitude.  It was nice to unwind in a different setting, and it actually helped boost my training batteries indirectly since it's obvious other folks are going through a bit of the Winter Training Blues like me.

So, if you're considering which Ironman to sign up for, I'd definitely recommend a late-season race.  Don't make me cut you.

Trust me, you're going to need the recovery period no matter what.  Might as well make it a merry as can be.

192 days and counting...slowly.

PS: With two birthday parties, an awards show and a company holiday party, there's no working out today -- for two days in a row now.

Lava Man

I have a little secret to share with you. In fact, you're the first to know.

Starting at the end of this month, I'm going to be writing monthly columns for Lava Magazine's website. As you may know, Lava is the official magazine of Ironman, and I'm beyond honored to become a small "official" part of the Ironman experience. My column, which will be called "Mind Games," is going to focus on the mental parts of training for an Ironman.  As I trained for my first Ironman, I found the spiritual, mental and emotional journey to be far more powerful (and useful) than any physical gains made from my training regimen. "Mind Games" will be devoted to exploring the many issues we all face as triathletes and looking to pros, sports psychologists -- and each other -- for answers and support.

I hope you'll continue to read my blog, and if you're so inclined, to join me at Lava Magazine's website for a monthly visit as well.

And if you have any ideas for columns I should consider, I'm totally open to hearing them!

***

In other news, I can summarize my day in the following manner, which could encapsulate my lifestyle the past few weeks:

-- Spun on the bike trainer (45 minutes)

-- Iced my legs

-- Ate all day (mostly decent food)

-- Fit in a full day of work

-- Downed a massive burger for dinner with a pint of beer

-- Lying on couch blogging and watching Lakers game

I do not feel like an Ironman, and I'm beginning to wonder if I no longer look like one either. I've gained six pounds now since November 21, with no slowdowns of that trend in sight.  I feel like a bear that's stuffing himself to build up fat for a long hibernation period.  I can't stop eating!

195 days and counting.

The In-Between State

I can officially start planning for Ironman Coeur d'Alene now. Why?

Because now I can actually get there.

Last night I booked my (expensive) airfare into and out of Spokane, Washington.  I'm arriving mid-day Thursday, June 23 and leaving on Monday following the race.  A few weeks ago I booked my hotel, the Ameritell Inn,  after realizing that all the "good" locations were rapidly vanishing.  Same goes for the airfare.  If you're registered for or volunteering at IM CdA and haven't booked your travel, I strongly recommend making those arrangements now.  I was planning to confirm flight arrangements a week ago and since then, airfare has gone up around $80 for roundtrip between Los Angeles and Spokane.

Day 3 of IM CdA training featured my first swim in a few weeks.  And you could barely call it a swim since I was only in the water for around 30 minutes.  Though I enjoyed those 30 minutes even more than I expected.  It felt great to get back in the water, although I swam so slow that I'm sure the senior citizens in the lanes at the pool's far end could have throttled me in a race. But, my training instructions indicate to swim for as long as I want while staying within heart-rate zone 1.

Based on all the holiday junk food I'm eating, I should be training harder.  I'm not sure about you, but training during the holidays is almost a lose-lose situation.  No matter how much (or in this case how little) training I do, I'm going to be packing on the pounds from all the cookies, cakes and muffins floating around the office or at the various parties that come up throughout the next several days.  Then again, I could use the extra weight.  I'm beginning to feel "normal looking" after shedding what seemed like an unhealthy amount of weight over the last six months.  I haven't really liked how I've looked in photos, especially in my face where I truly seemed emaciated.  So if I indulge (err gorge) myself with a few extra cookies, now you know why.

I think I'll be taking training a lot more seriously starting next week, and hopefully I can control my appetite a little more then.

For now, I'm in that weird in-between state of enjoying the holidays and trying to live a healthy lifestyle.

The holidays are winning so far.

196 days and counting.

Achey, Breakey Legs

It is the end of a long day. Eight hours of focus groups just wrapped. Now I'm home, I'm trying to blog and Steph, G-d bless her, is in the other room singing her heart out while watching Glee. I'm a little distracted.

That's sort of how I feel about my return to training.  I'm eager to begin working towards Ironman Coeur d'Alene, but I can't help but wonder what's going on with my legs.  Both IT bands feel like taut elastic, like the fat resistance bands at the gym. I spun for 30 minutes on my trainer this morning to loosen them up and even stretched extensively for another 20 minutes.  Yet tonight, after sitting for a full day, my legs feel as if I ran a half-marathon.

I'm worried.

I feel fortunate that I got through most of my Ironman Arizona training injury and illness-free.  Maybe I'm paying the price now.  Or maybe I'm being a tad melodramatic, which is far more likely as Stephanie would tell you.

I'm going to look into Active Release Therapy, which blog reader and friend Robyn recommended based on her own experiences.  Ironically, I received a note just this morning from the LA Tri Club email list with an offer for discounted ART therapy.  It's a sign.  If my insurance policy covers ART then I'm going to take full advantage of it.  I underwent some ART at the Ironman Expo the day before the race so I know what to expect. I'll try just about anything at this point as I don't want to miss out on any training yet yoga, ice bags and foam rolling aren't making my legs feel better.

I'll be honest, my mind is starting to run away from me thinking about what could happen if my legs decide that distance running just isn't my thing.  I feel like I'm just getting started!  I've found something I really love and don't want to think my body isn't cut out to handle the rigors of Ironman training.  Rationally, I know I just need to be patient and I'll be fine.  But when injury is an issue with an Ironman on the horizon, rationality seems to fly out the window.

I'm tired.  I'm a little frazzled.  And definitely a little distracted.  That combination is probably causing me to stress out a little more than usual.  So I'm going to take a deep breath and log off for now.  Tomorrow, I'm planning to swim for the first time post-IMAZ.  My training for the week calls for a mere 30-45 minutes of light activity per day in heart-rate zone 1, so maybe a gentle morning swim will be just the tonic I need to calm down and let my muscles restore themselves.

I certainly hope so.

197 days and counting.

PS: Here's my blog post from a year ago.  It's funny that one year ago today, I was jumping back in the pool for the first time in two weeks.  History is about to repeat itself tomorrow.  Here's to hoping I can drop the stroke count from 43-46 strokes a minute to something closer to 42-44 strokes.