2010: The Ultimate Odyssey

I've posted 345 blogs since starting this journey last November, with at least three-dozen categories.  I've probably analyzed -- over-analyzed, actually -- every detail of my Ironman journey more than most.  And yet I'm having a very hard time encapsulating the past year for my last post of the year. I set big goals and went out and accomplished them, with a lot of hard work. Stephanie and  I resurrected a broken relationship, for the final time.  None of this journey would have been quite as special had I not restored that healthy foundation.  That alone made 2010 a total success.  The completed races, personal-best times, and finishing the Ironman truly fail to come close in comparison.  Make no mistake, I would have been an Ironman without Stephanie.  But I would have thought of her at the finish, every day leading up to that moment, and every day after it.  I would have chased a ghost the rest of my life, the worst kind too.  The "What If?" spectre.

I hate that ghost. I hate "What If?"  So I destroyed it.  And couldn't be happier.

I remember when I started the year though, skeptical whether Fortius Coaching could mold me into a better athlete. Uncertain of my own psyche following a devastating breakup.  I remember Coach Gerardo telling me I wouldn't even recognize myself physically, emotionally and mentally following Ironman.

Now a year later, I know what he meant, though I'm not sure even he thought my transformation would be this profound.  I truly do feel like a different person.  Perhaps this year was the biggest growth year of my life, which is saying a lot since I spent several months backpacking through Europe both with a buddy and by myself to start the 21st Century.  That trip was a deep transformational experience in a different way.  In Europe at that time, pre-Euro currency, pre-"smart" cell phones and everywhere Internet, I was alone.  I had to learn to rely on myself.  I built a foundation for adventure and extended my personal comfort zones way beyond my sheltered suburban upbringing.  I built the foundation for this Ironman journey too, a far more spiritual and metaphorical trip.

I wonder if my 2010 Ironman would have happened if it weren't for my 2001 adventure serving as the stepping stone.

A lot had happened in my life between my 2001 backpacker's walkabout and this year's odyssey.  During that span, I had many adventures, literally all over the world.  While I may have nudged my comfort zones ever further out professionally, and personally, I hadn't really ventured off the grid (in my mind, at least) into the Great Unknown since quitting my job prior to September 11. That spring I quit work, quit my apartment, quit my car payments, and donned a small bag filled with all the contents I would need to live.

50 cities, 12 countries, 90 days.  A different kind of triathlon.

And yet my preparation for and completion of Ironman surpasses even that epoch.  I NEVER expected my journey to Ironman to rebuild what had become an eroded sense of self-confidence, rekindle my passion for writing, stabilize my emotions and provide me with such a supportive group of friends and teammates, not to mention some of you readers out there.

My 2001 odyssey was an escape.  My 2010 odyssey was a gift to myself.

I hope 2011 brings more gifts, but most of all, I hope that if you haven't already you'll reward yourself with such a gift.  We all deserve it.  We deserve abolishing that "What If?" ghost, even if it's only for once in our lives.  To stand at the finish line, real or metaphorical, arms raised, screaming from a primal place, nothing can surpass that feeling. The feeling of personal victory.  It doesn't have to be an Ironman either.  It can be going for a promotion at work, or starting a new career venture, taking a chance with that cute friend you always liked but haven't had the courage to ask out. It can be ANYTHING.

Make the most of 2011.  Pick your Ironman and FINISH IT.

Wipe "What If?" from your vocabulary.

I'd say good luck, but you won't need it.

Enjoy your New Year's Eve celebration!  I'll be back on January 2, fresh from spending the holiday with future wife.

175 days and counting.

PS: For those wondering about my legs, it appears that I've got a problem with the tendons in my hips connecting my glutes and IT bands.  The acronym for that part of the body is TFL, which some of you (Robyn?) may be familiar with.  My ART specialist said it's hard to say for sure though because of all my other structural issues, but based on the pain there in today's therapy session, I'm guessing it's a root cause.  We'll keep at the recovery, and I'll keep you posted on the progress.

Walk it Out

Stephanie called me via cellphone this morning about 30 minutes before my scheduled Deep Stretch yoga class at Black Dog.  She had mistakenly taken my car keys with her to run errands, but also had her keys. This meant I was stuck at home with no car.  Not a problem though, as I was comfortable on the couch watching the Lombardi documentary on HBO.  By the way, I highly recommend this movie.  It humanized one of the greatest coaches of our time and offered valuable lessons into motivational techniques while painting a portrait of a complicated, driven, tortured man.

I had every opportunity to throw my hands up and miss the workout. No car, no workout.  But, Steph convinced me to try and walk to the studio, which is roughly a mile or two away.  I had 25 minutes, so I knew I had time.  I was just feeling lazy, per the usual lately.

Thank goodness I rallied.  There literally wasn't a cloud in the sky.  The temperature was in the low-mid 70s (fahrenheit for my EU friends!). The picture-perfect So Cal morning.  What a pleasant walk!  I can't remember the last time I just took a walk for fun.  I'm always rushing somewhere, or pedaling somewhere, or driving somewhere to run somewhere else. Even though I was "rushing" in this situation, it didn't feel like it.  This was a leisurely pursuit.

And as a bonus, I rediscovered my neighborhood.

Things look, smell and generally feel different when you're walking and not running.  The cracks in the sidewalk.  The colors of the tree leaves. Kids squealing at the schoolyard.  The dog poop that someone neglected to pick up on the grass.

Today was a nice reminder that slowing down can be just as enjoyable as speeding up.  And, once again, that doing is even better than watching someone else's accomplishments -- even if it's Vince Lombardi himself.

176 days and counting.

Why Not Kona?

Like a squirrel hoarding acorns or a dog burying his bone, I've been saving my DVR copy of the Ironman World Championships for just the right moment. Having spent a decadent few nights eating my body weight while celebrating with Stephanie's family, tonight seemed as good a night as any.

I can definitely feel the extra weight on me, perhaps emotionally more than physically.  I also feel the rust accumulating on my fitness level, having completed only one cardio-driven workout last week.  This week will be no different, as Steph and I are taking some vacation time and heading to Napa Valley to spend New Years. Along with the rust has come a sense of laziness due to all the extra free time I've been enjoying.  I can't help but repeatedly think, "Why the hell have I been living this (Ironman) lifestyle?")

I'm sure we've all thought that at some point, maybe more during this time of year (Christmas/New Year's) than at other points.

So what better time to call upon some instant, sappy, inspiration drama to curb those emotions?

I found this year's coverage to be slightly less entertaining than the 2009 version.  Maybe it's because I followed the 2010 race via Ironman Live and knew the outcome.  Maybe it's also because I've read both Lava and Triathlete's post-Kona coverage cover to cover.

Maybe it's really because I've now done one of these myself.  And while I haven't been to Kona, I know what crossing that magical finish line feels like.  When I watched the 2009 DVD last year, I sobbed on my couch, repeating out loud to nobody in particular, "I WILL FINISH."

And I did!

But this year I did get a little choked up at the end of the show watching the other age-groupers cross the finish line.  Relating to their struggle, and the triumphant looks on their face, made it special for me. In a way, their success was also mine.  Our stories, even with different paths, were still the same.

I also thought to myself, why should Kona finishers have all the fun?  Why am I accepting that the only way I'll ever get to Hawaii for the World Championships is through a lottery?  I'm in charge of my destiny, why can't I qualify with my own two feet?  Heck, just having two functioning feet puts me in better shape than some of those inspirational stories featured in the show.  And I've certainly never been a drug addict (G-d bless that guy's turnaround, btw!).

So, what reason do I have NOT to make it to Kona?  Yes, I can think of several at the moment.  Bad legs.  Bad hips.  Bad dieting.  Bad marathon times.  But what if I work harder? Or smarter?  What if I open my mind up to the possibility that ANYONE can qualify for Kona? Is that realistic or fantasy?  When is a goal achievable and when is it out of reach?

I don't have the answer to that last one.  But I do know that if I don't think I can ever qualify in Kona, that's exactly what will happen. Why not give it a go?  A year ago I never thought it possible to qualify for the National Championships in the Olympic distance, and I came within a stupid drafting penalty of doing it.  Why not Kona?

Last year, I watched the Ironman DVD wondering, "Could I finish?"

This year, I watched the Ironman DVD wondering, "Can I qualify?"

Why not?

177 days and counting.

PS: 6 months until IM Coeur d'Alene.  Not feeling anywhere close to being prepared.  This race should be a fun one!

Overcoming Excuses

It would have been so easy not to have worked out today.  So many excuses.  Bad weather (though improving finally!).  Injury (injuries?).  Stephanie's first day off work for the holidays.  Chili cheese dogs and frozen yogurt for lunch.  Apollo 13 on HBO for the umpteenth time. I could tell that for the first time in a long time, sloth, laziness and worse yet -- self-pity -- were starting to get a grip on me.  It would have been so easy to stay on the couch!  My mood reflected my outlook.  I was down, even edgy with Steph. As I told her, I just don't feel right lately.  Whether it's the accumulation of holiday junk food (I'm now up nine pounds from my race day weight) or that sinking feeling I've been dwelling on about not being able to train the way I'd like, I'm having a hard time staying motivated.

But I've realized that the only person who can change my outlook is me.  I can't rely on the Ironman Kona coverage on NBC.  I can't rely on my teammates to pick me up.  I can't wait for a feeling to wash over me like magic.  That's a victim's approach.  A passive approach.

If you want to change your mood, change it.  No excuses.

So I did.  I dragged myself off the couch at 5:30 p.m., drove in traffic to the local pool and plunged in the water for an hour set that felt a little more difficult than I remember similar workouts in the past.  But, 2,500 yards later, I got through it. Maybe not the best swim, but a completed swim. (Though my T-pace is pretty much the same as it was pre-Ironman.)  And with Christmas and New Year's hovering, one of the few workout activities I'll be able to fit in the next several days.

On the way home, I was smiling inwardly and on the outside.  I physically and mentally felt better.  Of course, this presented a bit of a challenge.  It's important our significant others know that when we come back in a great mood after a workout, it's a separate part of ourselves that's being enhanced.  It could easily get confusing for a partner to think that you need a work out to stay happy, not them.  I made sure to share that with Steph tonight as soon as I got home. Fortunately, she understood.  Steph knows that she's the foundation for making all of "This" work.  Without her, I can workout all I want, but it just wouldn't be the same.

So, I guess I reinforced two things today.  First, bad attitudes happen. It's how YOU respond with yourself that defines what happens next.  Second, in this holiday season, take extra time to honor your friends and family.  They all see the joy we experience from our triathlon training and racing.  But it's nice to remind them that our training and racing only works if they understand how important they are in our lives.

Now, I want to wish you a happy holiday season.  I never expected to make friends with people from all over the world who read this blog.  You've touched my life and held me accountable all at the same time.  That said, I hope we all unplug a bit during the next couple days. No Facebook. No Twitter. No blogs.  Let's just hang out with our families and loved ones.  Let's show them where our priorities really are.

With that in mind, I'll be offline the next couple days.  Probably blogging again on December 26 or 27.

Please have a Merry and Safe Christmas.  I will be thinking of you, as I consider those of you I've gotten to know as real friends.  And I hope those of you who read this blog without commenting will introduce yourselves soon.  I'm very much looking forward to that.

180 days and counting.

Red Zone

I'm not sure how many of you use Training Peaks as your online training tracker.  The thing I'm really addicted to with it is the color-shading for each workout. It's simple, green for completed as scheduled, yellow for either slightly over or under on the scheduling, and red for an incomplete workout or something way beyond what was required.  Call me a creature of habit, call me old school, call me Pavlovian, but I NEED that green shading after each workout.  It makes each workout real, tangible. An all "green" week for me is a happy week.  A productive week.  A successful week. Those yellow (unless it's to symbolize more work) and red shades, they gnaw at me.  I view them the way my family viewed B's on school report cards amidst a string of A's, "What happened with the B?" Arrrgh!  Really???

So you can imagine how I feel now when I log into Training Peaks and have to ignore any running workout for the next two weeks and any cycling activity for the next week.  The latter is Coach Gerardo's order and the former is my ART specialist's suggestion.

There's gonna be a whole lot of bleeding read staring me in the face the next few weeks.  I hope I can handle it!  It's like bringing home a report card filled with D's and F's!!!

How will I live???

(Yes, I have a touch for the dramatic.)

Here's why though.  This morning marked my second ART appointment, and my therapist really worked deep into my hips and psoas region (connector between hip, IT band and what feels like my abdomen area).  He identified what he clearly thinks the problem is for now, extremely tight hips and weak glute muscles that are combining to severely limit my range of motion.  Ironman Arizona and the final training that led up to the race are likely causes.  Along with what I can only describe as an ill-informed, ill-thought out and overly aggressive recovery period.  A "recovery" period that isn't making me better, but probably exacerbating the problem(s).  Compounding them, or just POUNDING them.

I feel like I've wasted the past four-plus weeks since IMAZ with inconsistent workouts that have either been too long (first trail run), too strenuous (two-hour trail run in the rain?), or too unnecessary (yesterday's two-hour rainy bike ride).  What I haven't done enough of is yoga or basic strength training, and it shows.

Today though, after my ART session, I went back to Black Dog Yoga for a Deep Stretch class with Gerardo and a couple Fortius teammates.  Though it will be hard with the holiday schedule, I'm hoping to live in the yoga studio the next couple weeks, waiting patiently to get my groove back.  I'm going to have to trust that slower (or non-existent) will ultimately lead to faster and smoother.

Lately, I've been writing about committing to recovery but not really practicing it.  Today, I finally come to terms with it. Yes, I know I've been wishy-washy.  That's my brain and heart winning out over my body.  Now that I know clinically what my physical ailments are, I'm ready to accept the "red zone" and move back towards the green one.

Hopefully by the time I'm fully recovered, I'll add one more adjective to describing my "green" workouts: Gratifying.

181 days and counting.

Promise Keeper

Just yesterday I agreed that I'd slow things down with my training to recover properly for Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  I agreed with Coach Gerardo that we'd seek injury credits for both the Los Angeles 13.1 half-marathon and the Surf City full marathon on Super Bowl Sunday. So what did I do this morning, in the misty cold rain in the Santa Clarita Valley?

I cycled 40 miles with Frank and Bob.

I can't figure out which promises to follow!  I promised myself I would attack bad weather days in Southern California to ensure I don't have any excuses for future races that throw wind, rain and hail at me like Ironman Arizona.  I promised myself I'd lay off the running and focus on recovery too, so does that mean if I take it easy on a 2-hour-plus ride in the rain that I'm "recovering?"

Isn't having fun part of the recovery process?  No heart-rate monitor?  Water and road grime on my face?  Clothes soaked?  Black toe covers turned brown with mud?

C'mon!  That's fun! How can I turn that down?

The whole reason we enjoy do what we do, at some level, is because this is supposed to be FUN.  Honestly, despite my "injury" I'm having a lot of fun.  Something I wasn't doing at the end of my IMAZ training. It was a chore.  Work.  Somewhat stressful.  Grinding.

The past few weeks, though frustrating, have been a lot of fun.  Even if I'm not following doctor's orders completely, I feel like I'm re-energizing myself in other important ways.

So which promise do I keep to myself?  To get better and hold myself back? Or do what I feel like doing because it's simply fun?

I know the answer lies somewhere in between. I know I haven't found the balance quite yet.  But like the biggest lesson I've learned about becoming an Ironman, the answer lies in the journey, not the destination.

So, I'll either get this recovery process thing right, or I'll misfire and experience a setback.

I don't know how this all will turn out.  But I do know that I had a lot of fun today on a rainy stretch of road in the middle of rural nowhere.

182 days and counting.

Visualizing the Problem

About 1 p.m. today I just couldn't stand being at home doing nothing.  Well, next to nothing, as I had just (finally) completed the single-player campaign in Call of Duty: Black Ops.  I stared around the house, thought of the next game I should play (Red Dead Redemption or Mass Effect 2), and promptly decided it was time to brave the rain and knock my workouts off the schedule. Today's regimen called for a 45 minute light run on a soft surface along with an hour strength training session.  Because of the issues I've been having, Coach Gerardo has re-arranged my training schedule to be lighter and to focus more on recovery than pre-marathon build-up.  I think it's a wise choice, probably what I should have done all along.  Especially after my strength training session with Shannon illuminated what seems to be the real problem.  I decided to see Shannon today instead of working out on my own, primarily to ensure I was correct on form and wouldn't further aggravate any niggling injuries.  I brought my iPhone so we could take photos of some of the exercises, and to see if we could spot problems worth pointing out to my ART therapist and Gerardo.

Boy, did we find them.

As you can see, it's clear that my right leg bows outward while the knee cap over-rotates inward.  Further, you can also see in the following images that my right hip is not firing in alignment with my left hip.  My left side is generally stronger than my right, perhaps because the left leg is a full inch longer.

I think the next step is to re-examine my exercises, the weights involved, my training in general and customize a plan to allow me to regain some semblance of better alignment before I resume full-blown Ironman training. I'll admit that I'm a little scared about whether my body can handle the ultra-distance aspect of this sport.  Clearly, IMAZ and the training that led up to it took quite a toll -- far beyond what I expected.  These problems seem to be serious and I don't want to risk long-term damage to my body for short-term glory.  Then again, I don't think we did enough strength training last year or even yoga, so perhaps this is the logical effect of too much cardio and not enough strengthening.  Shannon even indicated she thought my legs looked thinner and that I've lost a lot of balance and strength since we were training together regularly more than a year ago.  Though we laughed about it during some of the exercises, it's still disheartening to hear yet I know she's right.  I can sense it for myself.  I'm not really using weights on some chest exercises, for example, opting for the lightest resistance bands and still having a hard time maintaining balance.

As I've mentioned this week, I'm doing my best to keep my head up and stay strong mentally.  I'm training myself to accept that I have a new challenge -- regaining health, strength and mobility -- and that my real goal needs to remain Ironman Coeur d'Alene. That means the LA Half Marathon, Surf City, Wildflower Long Course, and whatever else comes my way between now and June 26, 2011 are gravy.  One race matters this year, and I need to focus on being physically and mentally prepared for it.

Now that I can visualize the problem, I need to visualize a new journey while redefining what "success" may be.

It's tough to swallow at the moment, but if I've learned one thing from all this training and introspection it's that hurdles or setbacks make the accomplishment sweeter.

Who knows, maybe Ironman Coeur d'Alene will be even more meaningful to me than Ironman Arizona?

For now, I'll just focus on trying to get better and recovered, one day at a time.

183 days and counting.

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.