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.

IMAZ Training By the Numbers

Today marked my last "official" day of California-based Ironman Arizona training.  It also marked my packing day.  Check out this image...that's a LOT of stuff!

Before I go forward into the desert, I think it's fair to take a look back at all the stats from the past several months.

Wanna know what it takes to train for an Ironman?  Here's a very rough approximation.

(Quick notes: My training range is roughly Thanksgiving 2009 to November 17, 2010.  Approximately 350 days.  I began using my Garmin watch in early April, so the most accurate data actually spans seven months. And I may have deleted data inadvertently from April-June while trying to clean out my watch database. I logged workouts on Training Peaks beginning in early December 2009.)

Garmin miles logged (since April): 2,855.27

Distance from San Francisco, Calif. to Lubec, Maine: 3,452

Average combined speed (swim, bike, run): 11.9 mph

Garmin elevation logged: 124,794 feet

Mt. Everest in feet: 29,035 feet

Distance in feet from ocean level to leaving the Earth's atmosphere: 327, 360 feet

Calories burned: 90,646

Based on a 2,000 calories/day diet, equivalent days of calories burned: 45.3 days

Training Peaks Hours Logged: 608/660 (still have 14 hours of training to complete this week, including race)

Percentage completed: 92% (not including upcoming hours this week)

If I trained non-stop, the equivalent in days would be: 25.3 days

Bike: 164.3 hours (27%)

Run: 152.7 hours (25%)

Swim: 109.2 hours (18%)

Classified as "brick" hours: 79.1 hours (13%)

Race hours: 34.0 hours (6%)

"Custom" (usually yoga/strength): 42 hours (7%)

No matter how I slice it, that's a LOT of time spent training for one event.

Time to go see how that training pays off.

My next post will be in Arizona.

Four days and counting.

Colossus

When I was a kid, I was afraid of roller coasters.  The dizzying heights.  The sudden drops.  Going upside down! In thinking about it further now, perhaps I was afraid because I couldn't control the experience.  I was locked in, hurtled about every which direction, and blasted back to the platform dazed, startled and nauseous.

The coaster I recall being the most afraid of was Colossus, at Six Flags Magic Mountain in Valencia.  It towered over the freeway at the time, intimidating all who dared approach the massive structure.  There were also reports, as I recall, that coaster carts had fallen off in the past, killing people.  That didn't help my paranoid nature.

But the thing I remember most about Colossus was the first time I rode on it.  Sitting in the cart, scared and trying not to act like it.  Until the restraining bar was closed tightly on my waist.  Then, I started to panic.  There was no turning back!  I had to ride out this coaster no matter what happened. If I plunged off the tracks to my death there was nothing that could be done about it!  I was at the mercy of Colossus.

That's sort of how I feel today about Ironman Arizona.  I saw my bib number in the Athlete's Guide online at the IMAZ website.  For whatever reason, seeing that number, alongside the other 2,300 athletes, made me realize that I was committed to a 140.6-mile journey in 11 days no matter what.

It's amazing how "unreal" this event can feel because it's been so far off in the distance for so long. But now, like the roller coaster approaching off the freeway, it's here.  Staring me in the face.  Challenging me to step up and overcome my nerves.  To face the unknown.

The bib is my bar.

And ya know what?  I rode Colossus.  And eventually loved it. The rickety wooden coaster actually became my favorite at the park.  I just had to feel the ride -- the experience of it -- to know what to expect.

The IMAZ Colossus will be no different.  It's just that I don't know what I don't know about completing an Ironman.  But I will soon.

We're now about to hit the 10 day mark.  The cart is inching up the steep embankment towards the massive first drop.

Clink Clink Clink Clank Clank Clank ...

11 days and counting.

2 Weeks!

Two weeks from tonight, I'll be collapsed in my hotel room, hopefully elated with the performance I worked for and (I believe) earned. Yet it still doesn't feel totally real. For instance, despite a year of training, I felt a pang of anxiety when I realized tonight that the next Ironman on the official schedule is...mine.  There's nothing else to look forward to.  No other friends to cheer on.  No other teammates to send off.

It's just me and a date that approaches more quickly every day.

If today's workout is any indication, I'm definitely close to being ready.  Bob, my fellow Fortius and IMAZ teammate, joined me this morning for a full tri-workout.  We swam at Zuma in clear, crisp 62-degree water for 45 minutes.  I experimented with compression shorts in the water instead of a swimsuit, as well as compression calf sleeves. I liked it overall.  The calf sleeves rolled up on my leg a bit but I think that was after I took off the wetsuit, not while wearing it.  I think I'll go with that strategy at Ironman.  Any edge I think I can get.  Following a fairly leisurely transition (what a gorgeous day out!), I did my very best to hold onto Bob's wheel as we hammered out to Big Rock and back.  I succeeded for the first half of the ride as we belted out several 21-plus mph miles, but the second half of the ride, Bob stopped toying with me and simply took off.  He very well may break five hours for his bike split at IMAZ if he wanted to.  Finally, we embarked on a 90-minute run while trying to stay in heart-rate zones 2-3.  We were successful, completing just around 9.6 miles in that span on a flat course.  I needed that run following last Sunday's blow-up in Calabasas.  I know I can hold my heart-rate steady for several miles but I'll need the weather and wind to cooperate, as well as my own ability to stick to my race plan.  Today, the wind was moderate and the temperature was around 70 when Bob and I started running at noon.

Now, it's getting late (for an old guy like me).  I'm typing, reflecting about the past week.  With the exception of a couple monster swims, this past week truly felt like what I expected a taper should be.  Relaxed.  Moderate.  Fun.

With the occasional balls-out bike sprint thrown in for good measure.

14 days and counting.

Not Tapering Yet

If this is tapering, I'm not feelin' it yet.  I just got done with a yoga class that let out just after 9 p.m.  I ran about 8.5 miles this morning. And just now, I packed a full bag for a 2.4 mile swim tomorrow morning and an hour of intervals cycling immediately after.

This is tapering?

Sure, I had a (well-deserved) day off from training on Monday.  And, yes, I'll have this Friday off as well. Yet the intensity of the workouts still doesn't quite feel like what I expected.  Maybe my expectations were off.  I figured we'd be doing general maintenance work at this point -- just enough of a workout to keep my energy levels moderate so I'm not ready to tear the legs off a Cheetah barehanded.  After I catch up with it, of course.

Instead, I've got another 5:40 a.m. wakeup call tomorrow to plop into the pool.  I thought I was done with those for the immediate future.

Maybe the REAL taper starts next week when my training hours head closer into the single digits. I'm really looking forward to that.  What I'm going through right now feels closer to thinking you've finished a marathon and then the race organizers tell you, "Oh wait, it's actually 27.2 miles now.  You've got one more mile to go!"

UGH.

OK.  Off to bed.  More training beckons early in the morning.

18 days and counting.

300 Posts

OK, this is my 301st blog post, for those of you keeping score. That's 300 times over the past year where I gathered my thoughts, positive or negative, and shared them in this space.  If roughly each post is around 250 words (probably more, but we'll play it conservative), that's around 75,000 words combined.

That's also a lot of time to spend dwelling on one goal.

So, what have I learned so far?

-- I've learned that Ironman is much more about mental toughness rather than physical toughness.

-- I've learned I really don't like getting meals from bars and gels.  But if ya gotta do it, Clif Bars and chocolate Hammer gel work just fine.

-- I've learned that the hardest workouts, not the best workouts, are the most gratifying.  Sometimes just getting by is all the accomplishment one needs.

-- I've learned that the body is a delicate machine that requires constant care and feeding (literally) to perform at optimum levels.

-- I've also learned that ice baths are worth the shocking pain a man can get in the worst of places while taking them.

-- I've learned that just when you think you've spent enough on all the triathlon gear you'll need, there's something new to buy.

-- I've learned that without a supportive partner, friends and family, triathlon is the loneliest of pursuits.  And without that same support on race day, completing a triathlon is among the emptiest of accomplishments.

-- I've learned that how far I can push myself is a moving target based on my conditioning and my mental state.  In other words, it is up to me.

-- I've learned that while you have to do the actual work, a coach will make that work count for more.  I can't say enough good things about Coach Gerardo.

-- I've also learned that having a group of training partners to help push you forward is unspeakably valuable.  I can't imagine having trained for nearly a year at this point without them.

-- I've learned that honesty and vulnerability regarding my feelings make me stronger, not weaker.

-- I've learned that blogging helps me gain perspective on my training that in turn combats burnout since I can learn to take a small nugget from practically every workout.

-- I've learned how to take care of myself for the rest of my life by leading a healthy lifestyle.

-- I've learned that consistent physical training can help me make better, more creative decisions in the workplace.

-- I've learned to appreciate my training off days.

-- I've learned to tolerate my upstairs neighbor.  That little bitch.

-- I've learned that chlorine is powerful stuff.  It corrodes swimsuits, hardens skin and lightens hair. Yikes!

-- I've learned I'm a much different person today than I was when I started Ironman training.  Perhaps I've seen more physical, spiritual and emotional growth over the past year than during any other point in my life.

-- I've learned that no matter what happens on November 21, I've done the work to be called an Ironman.

Thank you for sharing that journey with me.

20 days and counting.

Wild Ironman Watch

I couldn't help but sneak a peek at my preliminary training schedule next week, since it had just been posted. 13.5 hours.

The following week?  9.5 hours (???).

Race week?  4 hours (?????????).

In what might be the biggest understatement of the year, I find the taper period appealing.  Less training.  More resting.  My kind of forecast!  I may even have TWO days off a week!  TWO!  Oh what will I do with my time?!

One thing I will do is savor it.  I earned this time off!  I made it!  I pushed through!  I logged the time, now to the tune of 575 hours.

That said, I wonder how I'll handle the energy surge.  I'm already feeling a little jittery today after what really was a light week of training despite the roughly 7.5 hours I logged.  I can't imagine how I'll feel in the final few days.  I may have to wear a T-shirt that says, "Caution! Wild Ironman Alert!"  I've already started warning my closest friends, family and co-workers that I'll be a bit of a crazy man the final few days, as Coach Gerardo warned.

Heck, maybe that's what I should have dressed up as for Halloween!?  WILD IRONMAN ON THE LOOSE!

BOO!

23 days and counting.

Active Meditation

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

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!

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.