Falling Off the Fitness Wagon

(Note: Photos will be added tomorrow. I'm still on a plane on the way back from Austin!) I fell off the fitness wagon this weekend.  This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, my demise is rather spectacular.  In this case it meant lots of Texas barbecue (Salt Lick OMG!), lots of Amy’s ice cream (Oreo Speedwagon!), Shiner Bock beer (among my favorites!) and good wine.  It also meant very little training, to the tune of one hour, 15 minutes over the entire weekend.  The odd part is, my travel-driven fitness blunders usually happen when I have everything planned in advance.  Pool to swim in at hotel confirmed in advance.  Fitness center with all the good equipment confirmed in advance.  Gear packed.  Cycling class scheduled, shorts packed.  Even my Garmin watch was charged.

But my intentions were outweighed by reality.  Standing on my feet for hours on end at events and the show floor, being “on” for press and fans of our games, simply wreaks havoc on my back and legs.  I can run all day but can’t stand still!  I’d rather run 15 miles and be sore than deal with the stiffness of waking up after hours standing in one place.  Combine that with being in Austin for the annual music, film and games festival, South by Southwest, and combine that with daylight savings time…and boom goes the training dynamite.

What the heck was I thinking to even try fitting training in this weekend???

Now I know what is meant by the term “Triathlete Zombies.”  We don’t think practically sometimes.  We just have tunnel vision to find a way to complete the next workout.  Stay on schedule, at all costs. Even at the coolest gathering of live, authentic entertainment and kick-ass food in the country.  Meanwhile, life marches on, by and through our somewhat self-absorbed plans.

I should have known it was going to be a long weekend from the very beginning.

I had booked a bike at Mellow Johnny’s (Lance Armstrong’s cycling shop) in their Pedal Hard Training Center, where I was supposed to preview the Ironman Coeur d’Alene course via CompuTrainer.  There was only one problem – Mellow Johnny’s forgot to reserve a bike for me.  My original plan was to cycle for two hours, maybe more, run back to the hotel a few blocks away and then head to the show floor to report for duty.  That blew up in smoke, and in fact Pedal Hard training master Chrissie had to apologetically send me back to the hotel.  I was devastated, like going to the toy store and being told you brought a dollar too little to pay for that favorite action figure you’ve coveted all year.

But then, Cycling Karma smiled.

I had chatted casually with a few of the cyclists using the CompuTrainer equipment on their own bikes as they prepared for their workouts.  Two of them, Casey and an unknown but very kind cyclist on a sweet Felt/SRAM roadie, heard about my plight from Chrissie after I had left.  They both offered to let me borrow their bike for an hour.  So, as I was talking to Steph back at the hotel, dejectedly preparing to swim, Chrissie texted me back and told me to hurry on to the shop again.

That was probably my fastest mile all week!

Chrissie single-handedly saved my morning.  I was so grumpy and dejected at first that I was afraid it would affect my performance at the panel I was leading later in the day.  Missing workouts through no fault of mine is the worst!  But Chrissie doted over me for the hour at Pedal Hard, devising an intervals workout for me, instructing me carefully on how to balance my cadence, and gently urging me to, well, pedal hard, when it counted.  By the end I was spent.  She also advised me to look into a 25/27 cassette for the hilly Coeur d’Alene course as it might save my legs on the run.  Further, she had completed Ironman Coeur d’Alene and gave me all sorts of great advice on how to handle the bigger hills at roughly miles 18 and 72 (“just keep spinning,”)

I was preparing to pay for my session when Chrissie said it was on the house, for the “inconvenience.”  I told her it all worked out fine and I was more than satisfied but she insisted my workout was free.

My faith in all things Cycling Karma had been restored, Mellow Johnny’s remains the Mecca it had always been, and I can’t wait to plan my next trip there.

Thank you, Chrissie.  Thank you, Lance.

That would be the last bit of training I’d do the entire weekend.  An entire day of booth duty, a panel, press interviews and a dinner that lasted until midnight (at Driskills, DO recommend!) crushed me Sunday morning. I simply couldn’t get out of bed.  I knew it was a combination of daylight savings time, fatigue and really the heart of the matter, a quiet room with no Bam-Bam upstairs banging on the ceiling, no snoring next to me (sorry honey!), and the quiet hum of the air conditioning set at the temperature I love.  And the room was dark.  The trifecta was complete, Quiet, Dark, and Cold.  The perfect sleep cave.

Ain’t.  Gonna.  Move!

I’m torn about ditching my weekend training.  On one hand, I know I needed the rest.  I worked hard this week and through the weekend, on top of all the recent business travel.  I know the incremental gains made by training through the fatigue could have worn me down enough to be susceptible to illness considering all the dirty hands I shook (I set a world record for hand sanitizer used in a six-hour period), sweaty console controllers I held, and how much air travel I’ve done the past several weeks.  I feel like rest now will pay larger dividends later than trying to be a tri-zombie and cram in one or two more mindless workouts just because they’re on the schedule.  I also know that I’m not quite in the final critical three months stage just yet, and if ever there was a time to relax a bit, eat a bit more, enjoy a city I love just a bit longer and have a bit more fun, this was the moment. I just wished I had come to terms with that sooner, as in Saturday night when the streets were bustling with activity, rather than Sunday morning alone in my hotel room staring at my suitcase with the goggles and swim cap inside.

Will training a grand total of seven hours this week hurt me at Coeur d’Alene?  Maybe. How much?  I have no idea.  Do I care?  Kinda.  But right now I don’t regret it.  I made the choice.  I did what I had to do to listen to my body and my brain.  My heart didn’t object.  Everything said, “take it easy.”

Whether that’s experience or laziness talking, I’m not so sure yet. Though I can tell you that I’m ready to attack training as best I can in the coming days.  Maybe it’s guilty nervous energy.  However, I may ease back into it just a bit so it’s not such a shock to the system.  I’ve been in this place before, trying to overtrain to compensate for lack of activity (and stretching).  That’s how problems really start.

So while I’m eager to train hard, I know it can’t come all at once.  I’ll have to train smarter.

Maybe my Tri-Zombie days are finished.  Maybe I’m getting a little wiser, a little more relaxed  and gaining better perspective about this crazy sport.

Or maybe it’s time to just have a little more fun when I go on these trips.

Maybe falling off the wagon is a good thing.  After all, once you fall, you have to stop, dust yourself off, and take a look around before getting back on again.

100 days and counting.  Bye-bye triple-digits.

Lesson Learned, and Some Homework

Once again, I'm in bed, blogging. Unlike last night though, the lights are on, and my laptop is recharged.  As am I.  This time though, it's from you, my readers.  I got a couple great comments from yesterday's blog and I really appreciated the perspective. I will take each workout one day at a time.  I needed that reminder.

Today's workouts were meant to be one long workout, a three-hour bike ride.  But I couldn't get out of bed at 5:30 a.m. after a hard evening swim last night.  So, I rode for about 1.3 hours this morning with Bob, the same Griffith Park route. Today was absolutely gorgeous out.  You could see the ocean clear to Long Beach from the Hollywood sign lookout point near Griffith Observatory.  One funny thing that happened on our initial climb was the howl of a coyote directly behind me not more than 20 feet away.  I wish we had it on film, but I sped up so quick, my legs must have looked like Shaggy and Scooby-Doo when they encounter a ghost or monster!  I hauled ass outta there!

For the first time in my training, I climbed the Hollywood sign route twice, back-to-back.  It's not that bad considering the longer climbs I've been doing recently.  It was nice to find some progress in my training, along with improved handling skills on descents.  That's something that really has taken a lot of time, getting used to the feel of a tri bike on cornering compared to a road bike.  It's literally something I work on specifically for every workout.

Another gem worth sharing from my ride was this tidbit: Give yourself a specific goal to shoot for and achieving that goal is much easier. I made the mistake of telling Bob how hast I had ridden up to the Hollywood gate last week, speculating that he could beat me by at least a full minute.  Well, Bob needed to see for himself, and beat me by nearly two minutes.  He explained, while panting between breaths, that a specific goal helps him motivate more than something vague.  I took this to heart and am going to figure out how I can apply it to my own training behind the 12-hour IM CDA milestone.  Maybe you can use this advice too.

So how 'bout some late night homework then?  I'll think of a specific goal in the short-term for my training, and you do the same.  Feel free to let me know what you come up with!

104 days and counting.

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.