Dark Abyss Up Ahead

Another quickie post.  I'm in the pitch black of my bedroom before conking out for the night.  My laptop power is down to next to nothing. Sort of like me at the moment. My coach told me we're going to ramp up the training in the next few weeks.  I'm wondering where that extra time is going to come from.  I like my schedule the way it is at the moment, to be honest.  It fits in my life for the most part.  During the week it's, get up, train, go to work, train some more, come home, spend time with Steph, blog, prepare bag for next day, go to bed.  Rinse, wash (get the chlorine out), repeat.

I'm sure I'll find a way to fit more training in.  I know I'm close to the final three months of IM training, the dreaded time where every workout matters, can't be skipped, and the days just get longer and harder.  Fortunately, this weekend will be my last business trip (South by Southwest in Austin) until Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

Before I head back into the dark abyss of full IM training, I emailed Gerardo tonight to ask him how I'm doing.  I want a progress report.  Is my breaking 12:00:00 goal at IM CDA still realistic, with an extended recovery period from IMAZ?  Am I improving?  I know the answer is yes in the pool, but what about on the bike?  On the run, am I getting my strength back?  Stamina?

Why is all this important? I'm not really sure. I guess I want to know -- need to know -- how to motivate myself in the coming months.  What am I shooting towards?  What can I achieve?  What's in my way?  What can I change, and what's just gonna be the way it is no matter what?

I'll be honest (when am I not here!?), I'm not really looking forward to what's in front of me.  What's worse, the "evil" you know or the evil you don't know?  In this case, I know the hard work hasn't even started, and yet I feel like my time is maxed out in my current training and life schedule.  And I'm not complaining about that at all. I like spending my Sundays with Steph! I'd like to spend more time with her, my friends and the rest of my family.  But soon, for one last time before I take a long break, it's time to enter the dark abyss of full Ironman training.  Coming up next, sacrifice, soreness, and stress.

I hope I get through injury and illness free.  And of course, having my sanity intact at the end would be a bonus.

105 days and counting.

Enough's Enough

First off, in case you haven't read it yet, here's my latest column for Lava Magazine Online.  This one's on self-coaching, which I'm sure some of you can relate to.  It's a common theme here for me on the blog, though I don't consider myself to be self-coached.  I consider myself to be a solo trainer quite often though.  Let me know what you think! http://bit.ly/dZ5H8o On to today.  From sun-up to well past sundown, I worked. Non-stop. It took a lot of willpower just to fit in a 45 minute recovery run starting around 7 p.m., but I got through it on the treadmill -- thanks to ESPN college hoops.  I was supposed to lift or practice yoga, but enough's enough today.  I'll have to save that for another time.  Some nights I realize that with one tush, I can't dance at everyone's ball.  Simple as that.

Not much more to say about today.  I'm really tired.  I've got wedding stuff to tackle (honeymoon work and wedding insurance research).  The night is not over yet.

But this blog post is.  More work to do.

106 days and counting.

Jack of All Trades...

My Garmin watch only shows 12 hours and 27 minutes of actual training this week, but I don't care.  This week was about quality, not quantity.  Like today, for instance.  I struck out on my own this morning for a long day on the bike and in the pool.  All my teammates were at the Desert Tri event, which I mentioned was difficult for me not to attend.  I badly wanted to race, but I know I need to be disciplined right now both with my schedule and with wedding planning. Today's ride called for 4.5 hours in the saddle and 2,400 yards in the pool with 10 x 100s at an all-out pace.  For the latter, I knew I'd need to pace myself to even finish the workout, so I went "all-out" with "no cramps, no bonks" as my mantra.  I pulled through with an average pace of 1:44 on the 100s, ironically close to my T-pace.  That's not bad considering my Garmin data transferred to Training Peaks conveyed I climbed 5,500 feet in my 64-mile ride.  (By the way, what's the deal with Training Peaks adding elevation to each upload when the Garmin data is usually less?)

I rode a new road today, Yerba Buena, near Neptune's Net (famous biker hangout) off Pacific Coast Highway. A cyclist I met and rode with for about 10 miles in Hidden Valley said I should give it a go if I needed a steady, long climb. Which I did (Coach Gerardo's workout called for an hour climb or two 30-minute high-energy bursts).

Cycling companions made my ride enjoyable today.  It was all about meeting random people along the way.  The cyclist who recommended Yerba Buena has two kids and tries to juggle riding about 200 miles a week, five days a week.  He's been riding for 25 years, evidenced by an effortless climb up the hill leading to Lake Sherwood that left me panting just a bit.  We joined two other cyclists and formed a pace line before heading up the hill near Sly Stallone's house off Portrero Road. I gassed myself up front when it was my turn to lead, trying to keep the momentum of the ride going.  I hate being the guy that slows down the pack but I think I overdid it.  This cost me as I my new group of friends quickly became my old group of friends.  They sped away and I blew off the back.

I was on my own for the next 20-25 miles until mid-way up Yerba Buena -- which let me tell you is a steady, long climb that lasted about an hour and was pretty un-relenting. (But you get great views, like the one to my left!) At least Mulholland Drive and even Latigo Canyon have some downhills or flats interspersed. This was practically all uphill.  And just when you think you're done, you reach Decker Canyon Road and have more climbing to do before a monster drop back down into the Valley. But, once again, my ride became interesting when I met a cyclist from Morocco who rides more than a 100 miles a day several days a week. Cycling is this guy's life. He cycles to clients as a computer repair consultant.  He used to be a pro in his country years ago.  And he constantly tries to find new paths for each ride to keep things interesting -- the more mountains, the better.  I kept up with this guy for two miles of the uphill slog before he grew tired of me, took my picture for his blog (which I never caught the name of), and never saw him again.  He stayed behind on the hill as I passed him and I think he may have dropped back to the bottom and then done a repeat.  This guy was hard core!

Here's my Garmin watch data of the ride:

All this made me realize that we triathletes are truly like the "jack of all trades, master of none."  We're solid at any of the disciplines, if not good or maybe even great.  But there are specialists in each sport where cycling, swimming or running is all they do.  Andy they do it very well.  I realized this as I got passed all over the place today by many road cyclists, calves bulging, shiny bikes shimmering.  I'm proud of how I got through the day, but I know I've got a lot of work left to do if I ever want to be great at any one tri-sport.

107 days and counting.

Where Have I Been?

OK, I'm back from San Francisco, where the weather mostly cooperated and offered some beautiful views.  I went MIA for a couple days at the conference, but I managed to train a bit nonetheless.  I ran on the treadmill at the hotel gym on Wednesday, and yesterday I did some weights training even though I had no workout clothes.

Let me explain.  I looked like that creepy muscle head guy from the 80s, with ripped jeans and a "wife beater" tank top lifting weights.  Except without looking like a muscle head, since, let's face it I'm "lean" to put it affectionately.  A woman came in to workout out on her own and did a double-take.  I was so embarrassed that I explained it was either look like the Un-incredible Hulk or not get my strength training session in. C'mon, what would you do?

Overall, I've been able to balance conference attendance and training pretty well. I even fit in a late afternoon brick yesterday, heading straight to the park after the airport.  It's where I snapped this fun little pic as the sun was setting.

I'm not working out as much as I did at this time last year, but I'm also not tapering for the LA Marathon, nor am I competing at the Desert Tri this weekend in Palm Desert. Most of my team is though.  It's definitely difficult knowing the first triathlon of the season is happening this weekend and I'm not there to partake in the fun.  I was so concerned about getting sick or over-exerting myself.  But, I'm healthy, well-rested...and not at the event.  Hard to say whether I could have competed or if my health is the result of actually balancing my schedule effectively.  My approach is at least helping me focus on the larger goal of Wildflower and IM CDA.

Today, I'm home relaxing, mostly with Steph. She's at a brunch now, which means I'll sneak out to grab a swim.  Honestly, it's really nice to have a relaxing Saturday morning not on the bike or on the run -- literally.

How's your training going, my friendly readers?  How are your race seasons shaping up?  Did the off-season work out well for you?  Any regrets?  Feeling good heading into the new season?  Tell me! I want to know.

Back to the blogging tomorrow.

108 days and counting.

Mile High Post

Greetings from 28,000 feet! (when I was originally writing this post...) Airline wi-fi rules.  It's pretty much the only part of today that has, it seems.  Everything has been a struggle. Consider:

-- Electronic car key fell apart this morning on way rushing to pool.  Fixed it though.

-- Going from car to pool, the strap on my duffel bag snapped.

-- I lost my toiletries kit at the gym during my lunch-hour workout.

-- Checking into my Southwest Airlines flight became a disaster as the entire national reservations (and online check-ins) network was down.  Had to resort to my co-workers printing a temporary boarding pass to get me to the gate, where I then had to wait in another long line to get a manual boarding pass.  Made the flight though.

It's been that kind of day. But it's also been the kind of day where I was able to spin on the bike, swim 2,500 yards in the pool AND squeeze in a killer strength-training session from Shannan.  So it wasn't a total loss.  However, I also think that trying to fit in all these workouts amidst a busy schedule can be counter productive.  Here I am rushing around like a lunatic, working, juggling, training, helping with wedding planning, and things fall through the cracks.  Keys break.  Bags snap.  Razors get lost.  My patience is tried.

Is it worth it?

I'd like to quickly shout "Yes!" and explain how training can change the entire outlook of your day.  But today, in this instance, I think it caused as many problems as it helped alleviate.  That said, I wish I could connect the dots better when it comes to taking the lessons from triathlon training and applying them to my life.  In the pool, for instance, slower is sometimes faster.  Gliding on the water and extending your arm further before the underwater pull can shave time.  So why can't I do a little more with a little less? And what would that mean in this instance?  Fewer workouts?  Less time in each workout?  Skipping a workout?  Probably.  Yet, I can't.  I'm addicted.  I hate missing a workout, and yet at the same time I can't stand feeling that way.  Sometimes I almost feel trapped in my training.

I'm excited for Ironman Coeur d'Alene. I really am.  But I'm looking forward to taking a bit of a relaxing break afterwards.  There's got to be a better balance, though there are no compromises when it comes to Ironman training.

112 days and counting.

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.