I Love it When a Plan Comes Together

Today's swim workout almost didn't happen. I forgot the local pool was closed on Mondays and I rarely have Monday swims.  Fortunately, I had enough time to drive 20 minutes away to Calabasas, knowing it would be a super tight call if I'd make work on time.  I had to make a quick decision about whether I was going to skip the workout.  I could take the freeway and try to make a break for it, or I could admit defeat, go home, get my spin in on the bike and be content with that. I decided to go for it.

What a great lesson learned.

The freeway opened up, I made it to the pool on time.  And what would you know, I'm changing into my swim shorts when a friendly voice from the past calls out, "I know that dude!"  It was my buddy, Dustin, whom I haven't seen in months since he and his wife had their second child.  We caught up, realized we were both doing Wildflower long course, and even had the opportunity to share a lane for our morning swim.

Talk about fortune via misfortune!

Bumping into Dustin made my morning.  I felt so gratified that I put in the extra effort to make my swim workout because I wouldn't have run into my friend, and I knew that I really earned that swim.  Of course, I couldn't get my spin in tonight, as I had other things to do before I leave on another business trip tomorrow.  But, I'm going to be aggressive and try to cram three workouts in tomorrow before I get on the plane.  A spin early tomorrow at sunrise, followed by another swim, and a strength-training session with Shannan at lunch.

Both Dustin and I agreed that fitting workouts into our hectic lives is a real tough challenge, for our significant others and for ourselves. But fewer things are more gratifying than when it all comes together, like George Pappard used to say in the original A-Team show..."I love it when a plan comes together."

Or when you make up a new one on the fly.

113 days and counting.

PS: May not be able to blog much the next few nights, this time it's the Game Developer's Conference. Late nights. Early mornings.  Gonna do my best though to get some training in.  If you're in SF and want to run on Wednesday a.m., let me know.

A Near Podium Experience

So close, and yet so far.  Literally. That would describe my first near-podium experience at the Padres Stand For Hope 5k on a rainy, hail-infested Saturday.  The forecast called for near freezing temperatures and the possibility of snow at the 500-foot level.  No matter, as I had a 1.75 hour run to fit in, with the final 20 minutes being in zone 3.  Though Coach Gerardo gave me the green light to run as hard as I could if I felt up for it.  That's keeping in mind that I haven't run faster than a 7:30 mile in several months.

Normally, I wouldn't even bother with a 5k at this point in my Ironman training.  But my coach is allowing me to ramp up the speed work now as several of my teammates are training for sprint or Olympic-distance race.  This is as good as time as any for me to get that work in too before focusing on long-distance training the final few months.

Further, several co-workers at my company decided to run the race for charity and asked if I'd be interested in joining. I thought it would be good to run with my friends and cheer them on, and it was truly the best part of the race.  Seeing the looks of accomplishment (and exhaustion) on my friends' faces reminded me of my first 5k and my first few races.  I was truly happy for them.

Their successes ultimately were the highlight of the day.  The race itself was a disaster.  Total logistical nightmare. When I arrived at 6:30 a.m. to sign up early and begin my pre-race 1:20:00 run, volunteer crews were still trying to determine where to set up check-in and registration tents.  When it was my turn to register, the volunteers couldn't find bibs.  Now I don't want to sound like a race snob by any stretch.  I know most of these folks are volunteering for a great cause and have never participated in a race-like environment.  It just reminded me how grateful we should be for well-run races, where everything seemingly happens like clock-work yet there's a HUGE operation going on behind the scenes.

Not at this race though.

The starting gun blasted nearly an hour after it was supposed to.  I had already run 7.3 miles and was getting cold from waiting in the starting area for nearly 15 minutes after my warm-up run.  Once the run started, I had to quickly decide if I was going to push it or stick to a tempo-run finish.  As soon as I saw my Griffith Park running buddy and co-worker John dart ahead of me, I had my answer.

No way.  I'm not going to lose today.  It's in my nature.  No matter how painful the race may be, no matter if I'm unprepared to go that hard, I'm not going to lose without putting in my best effort.  I'm incapable.

Now I'm really glad I didn't sign up for Oceanside 70.3 recently.

I've attached my Garmin workout to show the progression of my run (though I forgot to click to "Other" instead of "cycling.")  You can see I had the best three running miles probably since the Nautica Malibu Triathlon last September: 7:07, 6:34, 6:13.

What propelled me?  Honestly, all I could think of was "PODIUM."  I kept repeating it in my head the whole time.  I knew that with poor weather -- it started hailing during the first mile of the race -- and with it being a slightly less competitive crowd than what I'm used to, I had a real chance to experience a top-five or better finish.  Every time my heart felt like it was going to give out, I reprimanded myself..."KEEP GOING!  PODIUM."

"PODIUM."

"PODIUM."

"PODIUM."

I started passing people.  John fell back.  My pace quickened. I kept trying to focus on form, but eventually I stopped thinking about that and focused on running as hard and fast as I could.  I'm convinced that if I had committed to the race even sooner - like right after the starting gun and not in the first quarter-mile, that perhaps I could have broken 20 minutes. That is my ultimate goal.

Well, I crossed the finish line at 20:29 by my watch, the same exact time and pace (6:36) I had at Desert Triathlon last year around the same time.  After staying around to congratulate my teammates and co-workers after they crossed the finish line, I went with John to see the posted results.

SECOND PLACE in age group!

I did it!!!!

FINALLY, a podium!  I was elated.  Even though it was a smaller race, I tasted my own sense of real victory for the first time. I called Steph immediately, and of course she was bummed because she wasn't there to witness it -- I made her stay home because of the weather and this not being an A-race by any stretch.

A while later, John and I went to collect our medals. That's when my elation turned to dejection.

Apparently, two other runners in my age group didn't have time chips but told race organizers they had run sub-20:00 times.  And for whatever reason, the race organizer gave them the second and third-place medals.

I had finished in fourth.

Really?

It was like the Breath of Life triathlon last June when I qualified for Nationals only to watch it fall away from a silly drafting penalty.

Can I catch a break?

Since this wasn't a huge deal to me and it's really about charity, I shrugged my shoulders, grumbled under my breath, and drove home.  As I have a day to think about it more, I realize how much I have to feel grateful for.  I'm no longer injured, quite clearly.  My training is paying off again, quite clearly. I equaled my 5k PR in my first real speed training of the year, and proved again to myself that if I work hard enough, I can run pretty fast.

It's not a medal, but it's close.

I'll take my near-podium experience and savor it just a bit.

114 days and counting.

A Little Extra Push

The idea of cycling in 40-degree weather this morning at 7 didn't thrill this California native.

But my buddy Bob made it a lot better.

Sometimes, I really enjoy training on my own.  I'm on my own schedule, can take as few breaks as possible and get done with my workout quicker.  However, what I make up for in efficiency can sometimes be lost with pacing, or in today's case, a little extra pushing.

As some of you know who have read the blog for a while now, Bob did Ironman Arizona with me last year.  He's a heck of a cyclist and has bursts of speed that leave my jaw dropped when he chooses to push it.  Today, he made me push it at the end of a two-hour ride at Griffith Park where my legs felt lactic, my climbing power lacked and my heart rate slacked.

And I couldn't be happier.  Bob yelled and paced me to climb a hill much faster than I anticipated or I even thought capable at this stage of my workout and after a nearly 13 hour training week (not including weekend activities yet).  More important, my heart rate didn't explode the way I thought it might, and I sustained the speed down the hill and in the flats for the remainder of what became a small 20-minute crit.  Granted, Bob absolutely destroyed me in speed and power. But I felt like my workout went from good to great thanks to the extra push.

That's also the real benefit of having a training partner who's a better athlete than you.  Learning by osmosis, you can't help but get better yourself.  Frank helped train me as a beginner cyclist, and if I can ride more with Bob, I'll get even better.

Now I just have to ask myself who will pace me tomorrow as I slosh through a rain storm for my first unofficial race of the year, a Pasadena 5k that serves as the tempo portion of a 1.75 hour run.  I hope I have enough energy to finish the race as I'm pretty worn out from an epic week of training and another swimming milestone.

I like my chances though if I can latch onto someone down the stretch.

Race report to follow tomorrow.

G'night all!

116 days and counting.

Blowin' Off Steam

My day started off super crappy.  But training saved it.  That's the benefit of all this crazy triathlon training we do -- the insanity of it all keeps us sane. Because a contractor tried to shirk responsibility for a poor installation of my washing machine (there's a longer story you can email me about if you want to hear what happened), I arrived to Griffith Park this morning late and pissy.  Further, my Garmin watch strap popped loose, so I couldn't wear my watch on my wrist.  After fiddling with it for five minutes unsuccessfully, I tucked it into my chest pocket on my fleece and took off.  My run called for an hour of "moderate" trail running between heart-rate zones 1-4, with some moments in zone 5 if called for on inclines.  I ran by feel instead, but I knew I was moving quicker than normal.  My teeth and jaw were a little clenched as I was thinking of all the things I would have liked to have said to the contractor if I was quicker on my feet in the heat of an argument and NOT trying to be as polite.  This guy really pissed me off because at the core, I think he thought he could push me around.

Anyway, I found that the longer I ran, the less frustrated I became.  Yet my pace remained the same.  And the same hills I had trouble running up just a couple weeks ago were a LOT easier today.  Again, I think my body is finally fully recovered from IMAZ and the gains of my consistent training since January are paying off.  As my dad put it tonight in conversation, perhaps I need a little less to get a lot farther.

This was no more evident than tonight's unexpected 1,000-yard time trial in the pool with my Fortius teammates.  Before the workout, I told Coach Gerardo that he should be on Bonk Watch for me, as once again this was my third workout for the second time this week.

Once again, at the brink of exhaustion, I swam faster for 1,000 yards than I ever have in the pool.  Thanks to healthy pacing from my teammate and friend Mike, I crushed my previous best time of 17:57 from about a month ago and sailed to a new best: 16:36!

Are you kidding me!!?!?!?

Honestly, I still can't believe it. I really owe that to Mike's strong pacing, which fueled my competitive instincts and forced me to swim a little more balls-out than I wanted to, but at the same time saving room for a surge in the final 200 yards.

Honestly, today was perhaps one of my all-time best days of training.

And I have a jerky contractor to thank for it.

Maybe I should ask more people to piss me off?

117 days and counting.

Balancing the Balancing Act

After completing his second Ironman 40-plus minutes faster than his first, my buddy Rusty told me he actually did so by training less.  He didn't push himself quite as hard, tapered longer, and when he simply didn't feel like training, he didn't.  All while self-coaching himself. I thought all this sounded like sacrilege at the time.  But I was a few weeks out from Ironman Arizona, mired in the depths of my final build push.  Train less?  Skip a workout because I didn't feel like it?  No way!

Now, in the beginning stages of the first real build phase in my Ironman Coeur d'Alene training, I'm beginning to see more what he meant.  For starters, I find that I slide around workouts on my Training Peaks schedule the way I move letters around my Words with Friends screen on my iPhone (btw, I'm ironmadman if you're obsessed with the game like me!).  If a workout isn't convenient for me or if I'm just not feeling it for some reason, I move the workout to another day.  I did that tonight with a scheduled strength training session.  I hadn't been home from work and working out before 8 p.m. in several days.  That had to change.  I wanted to sit on the couch and be a bum for 15 minutes watching the Lakers game.

So I did.

I think listening to your body and mind and actually acting on what they're telling you is one of the hardest parts of triathlon training.  It's so easy to get caught up in completing every workout on the schedule.  But sometimes it's just not practical.  It's what you do in those moments that may ultimately define your performance on race day.  I suppose the real balancing act is knowing when it's OK to ease off and when pushing through will lead to a performance increase.

Perhaps that's what coaches are for.

118 days and counting.

Peeling Away the Past

I could write about my three workouts today -- morning run, lunchtime yoga or evening swim. The latter pushed me to the brink of nausea following some Indian-spiced lentil soup that repeated on me towards the end of one of the more grueling workouts I can remember. Instead, I'm going to focus briefly on doing something small that probably says so much more.

Finally, after three months (almost to the day), I removed my Ironman Arizona bib number sticker from my Cervelo.  I was re-affixing my cleaned Speedfill bottle to the bike when I stared at the sticker and simply realized, "it's time."

I don't need the physical keepsakes to remind me of the accomplishment.  And there's so much more to look forward to, like more breakthroughs in training and my upcoming races at Wildflower and Ironman Coeur d'Alene.  Perhaps the only way to truly reach forward is to let go of what's behind.

I did that tonight, without fanfare (well, outside of a blog post!). Perhaps it's truly the final step in what has been a much longer recovery from an Ironman than I ever honestly expected. It's been far more of a physical and emotional roller coaster than even the original training itself.  At least with Ironman training it was consistent and I had a real idea of what to expect.  Even though Coach Gerardo told me that everyone recovers differently from an Ironman, I suppose I just had to experience it for myself.

But I think, with a long pause and some hesitation in my inner voice, I can close the chapter on the 2010 race season once and for all.  I truly can live in the here and now.

So while it seems like it's just a sticker, to me it's something bigger.

I've finally peeled away the past.

119 days and counting.

Getting Better, All the Time

As I sit here writing my blog entry, I'm thinking of the classic song with the lyrics, "I've got to believe it's getting better, it's getting better...all the time." That's how I feel after my long bike ride on a sunny but chilly President's Day holiday.

Frank and I rode just shy of 64 miles and climbed roughly 3,700 feet over nearly four hours.  I'm excited to report that my ride included a successful 20 minute time trial in Simi Valley towards the beginning of the ride, with my average mph at 21.78 mph.  Granted, that's with a 1% downhilll most of the way, but there were uphills and a cross-wind, so I think it evens out a bit.

My reward was a brief visit at my dad's auto shop, where my mom promised me I wouldn't upload this photo.  Whoops!

While I pushed it on the bike for most of the remaining 50 miles, I still was able to run a few miles in zone 2 with my Newtons.  It was my third time out with them, and while I'll save the details for my actual Lava Magazine Online review, so far I like what I'm feeling.  Don't worry though, I'm taking every precaution to go slow for my first few runs.

Perhaps my favorite part of the ride is witnessing another strong effort from Frank. He's clearly regaining his power and stamina, which helped mold me into a better cyclist early in my training days.  Frank challenged me hard up Santa Susana Pass and through the first 45 miles of the ride.  I know we're not supposed to be competitive with our buddies, but for whatever reason, Frank forces me to bring out the best in my riding.  I can't help it.

I like where I'm at in my training now.  Like I've indicated recently, I can finally see strength and stamina gains.  Though I hate to jinx it -- the past several minutes have included an elevated body temperature and hotness behind the eye sockets.  Steph is sick at the moment...I hope I wasn't in the peak form that Mark Cavendish wrote about in his book -- which often led to immediate illness.  Fingers crossed!

Now it's time for stretching and chores.  But I'll be humming a certain song in my head while I do them.

120 days and counting.

PS: Here's my Garmin data from today's ride.  The pace is slower b/c I tacked on about 20 minutes of running while still on the "bike" setting.  But this is really where I'm at in my training from an overall viewpoint. Gotta regulate the HR a bit more on the bike but otherwise I'm feeling good!

Weekend Wrap

Saturday, February 19: It never fails.  The less motivated I am to train but actually get out and do it, the more I surprise myself.  That happened not once but twice today, during a 1.5 hour trail run off the dirt Mulholland trail (where I was rewarded with this spectacular view of Santa Monica) and, more surprisingly, during my afternoon swim at rainy VNSO Park.

For the latter, I sat in my car while the sky poured down for 15 minutes.  I had no energy, no motivation, to leave that warm heated space.  I was still cold with dried sweat from my Under Armour compression pants.  Tired from eight straight days of training and business travel.  But, I had a contractor at my condo due to a leaky upstairs washer thanks to my lovely neighbor, Trudy.  So, I couldn't go home and enjoy a restful afternoon with all the clanging and banging.  What was left to do?

It took me about 20 minutes to find my happy place in the water. The rain had subsided.  The sky opened up with a few rays of sunshine.  My attitude changed.  I was going to make the best of this.

And ya know what?  In the last of my timed 15:00 time trials, I was on track to PR my 1,000 TT.  By 27 seconds!

I think this is the biggest mystery of training:  Why do I perform better when I least expect it?

I'm not even sure it's a mystery worth solving. The result is what matters.  And it all starts with the initial effort of getting out of the car and into the pool on a rainy Saturday.

Sunday, February 20: A day off.  A much needed day of rest and recovery.

At first, I really didn't like the idea of switching my off days to Sunday.  I felt like I was going to lose out on precious long training hours to help me bounce back into shape.  But I was losing much more -- a sense of closeness with Steph brought about by a lack of perspective on free time.

While I will resume Sunday training in my final three months of Ironman training, I am a new man when I hit the road now on Mondays.  It's a welcome change.  I feel like I have a weekend again, as odd as it may seem.  Training for an Ironman can often feel like a job even though it's what we do for fun on a weekend. Now, with some true Sunday fun day back in the mix, my perspective has been restored.

Today, my parents, Steph and I took a day trip up to Los Olivos to visit the key sites for our upcoming August wedding.  I don't want to spoil any surprises, but we are going to have a memorable weekend.  I can finally picture the flow of events and am officially excited for the big day.  Steph and my mom came up with some ideas that I think will cause our wedding to be truly unforgettable.

Fortunately, my parents loved the wedding venue, Firestone Vineyards.  We took a tour of the winery today, where we learned more about how wine is made, stored and aged.  I also learned that wine should be stored at 55 degrees Farenheiht in a fridge, and that 90% of all red wine should be drank sooner rather than later.  In other words, all that you hear about storing wine for long periods doesn't hold true for most of the wine on today's market.

I wouldn't have learned these things had I not gotten off my bike and stripped myself of my workout clothes on a Sunday.

As important as tri-training is, family time is even more important.  Today was fantastic.

And now I'm looking even more forward to my 4.5 hours on the bike tomorrow, a President's Day treat.

121 days and counting.

New T-Pace

I have a new swimming T-pace.  It's eight seconds faster than the previous mark, 1:48/100 yards.  This has been confirmed after multiple sets of 500s at tonight's Fortius swim. My first indication of change in the water came during one of our early drills.  I was supposed to hit my T-pace in the third of five sets of 100 yards and go faster for the remaining two sets of 100s.  I started off way faster than anticipated, a brisk (for me) 1:37 without much effort.  Problem.  I was supposed to come in at 1:55, with the next set at 1:50. Problem again, as I "slowed" to 1:41.  Then 1:37, 1:33, 1:32.

This continued for the remaining two sets of 500.  More often than not, I came in at 1:40/100 with :20 rest, usually arriving closer to 1:37-1:39.

I suppose my real T-pace in the water in a non-stop 1,000 is still 1:48 as I'd imagine I'm slowing over the course of the TT.  But this still gives me hope of improvement on the horizon.  If I can maintain that 1:40 pace over longer distances, I'll really start saving some major time in events where I'm wearing a wetsuit.  And my swim times came after a fairly intense run early this morning at chilly Griffith Park.  I ran my first 7:30-ish mile pace in roughly six months.

My strength is coming back...nearly three months removed from Ironman Arizona.  I may have recovered physically a month ago, but I'm starting to see strength gains for the first time now.  Even my trainer, Shannan, indicated that "my nervous system is coming back online" based on the improvement in my coordination and agility in recent sessions.

Man, an Ironman sure takes a toll if I'm just starting to get my nervous system back in working athletic order now!

Anyway, it's really nice to see progress after being down in the dumps for so long.  If there's hope for me, there's hope for you too.  It just takes time.  And patience.  And a willingness to accept and trust the process of healing and rebuilding.

Not the easiest thing to do.

But certainly among the most worthwhile.

124 days and counting.

Decision is Made

I am not going to sign up for Oceanside 70.3.  And for the most part, I'm totally OK with that. I'm getting married in August.  Spending a premium now for a race I can enter next year at a fraction of the cost doesn't make cents.  I can't justify it.  Yes, I'll miss racing alongside Rusty and Bob and the rest of my Fortius teammates.  There's no doubt about that.  But, as Robyn pointed out in the comments from yesterday's post, I can do my own Half-Ironman that day and gain the same experience for free.

Free sounds mighty good right now.  And this thought process made me realize that it's not too soon to plan for the 2012 season.  As it currently stands, my goals are to get faster at the Olympic and Half distances anyway.  I think 2011 is my swan song for full-distance Ironman events as it takes too much time out of my life. I'll apply every year for Kona though.  That's one event I MUST do before I die.

I used to want to do St. George desperately -- to prove to the naysayers that I could handle the toughest of Ironman events.  But the truth is -- screw them.  An Ironman is an Ironman.  It's a helluva committment any way you look at it, no matter the elevation on the bike course or the weather that day.

Yes, I reserve the right to change my mind.  I'm fickle like that sometimes.  But for now, I think I'll take a longer, more strategic look to the future and set my sights on US Nationals for Olympic distance and maybe, just maybe one day, the same for the Half distance.  I know I can qualify already on the Olympic side.  So it's just a matter of doing it.

And now, deciding which races to make my mark.

Consider 2012 Oceanside 70.3 on the list.

Sometimes the best decisions we make are the ones where we don't do anything.  I think today was one of those days.  My training is working right now.  I'm getting stronger.  My swagger is coming back.  And my schedule is only going to get busier the next two months when Oceanside training would require a greater focus than what I might be able to offer.

Gotta be smart.  And I gotta remember that I have nothing to prove to anyone but myself.  Which also means listening to my inner self at critical moments.

Time to trust the process and stay the course towards Wildflower and Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

125 days and counting.