Poopy Brick

My training mojo vanished this morning.  And I didn't even get a memo with a warning!  Nope, instead, I found out my morning brick was going to be terrible mid-way through my bike ride.  I couldn't figure out why my heart-rate was so low despite a strong effort on a long hill climb.  Typically, I hover in the 150-160 bpm range on this particular climb, but today I stayed in the 130s, reaching 150 only after a final futile push to reach the hill summit in time to make it back to the parking lot within the hour. Fail.

My legs felt like they were dipped in tar -- hot, sticky, burning, and painful.

That sensation continued on my poor excuse of a run.  My training instructions were to run easy in zones 1-2 for the first two miles, ramp up to zone 3 for the third mile and ramp up again to zone 4 for the final two miles.  I couldn't get my heart-rate past 145 for the entire duration of the run!  In fact, I had to stop halfway through the run for a bathroom break, which almost never happens.

Has this happened to you?  That awkward feeling part way through a workout where you're just dying to find a restroom in the middle of a trail run?  NOT good.

Fortunately, I was running parallel to a golf course.  I looked like I was streaking with my clothes on as I raced across the green -- hands covering my head to protect an errant drive.  That's how bad I had to go!  Once I felt better, I returned to my run.  Once again, I couldn't muster any real power or speed.  Though I ran steady 9 and 8:30 miles on the two miles back to the car, I would have preferred revving my intensity and trying to hit consistent 7-minute miles again.

Today was not that day.  I'm debating hitting the pool for a rare Wednesday evening swim, or just resting today altogether.  Maybe this morning was an aberration?

There's only one way to find out.  And in these final three months of Ironman training, that way is to suck it up and get back out there as best I can.  If I'm not feelin' it, I'll back out.  But unless I'm in a work meeting or injured, "not feelin' it" ain't good enough.

76 days and counting.

Confidence Boost

Tonight's Fortius swim was a good reminder that I'm a pretty competitive dude.  After placing me one lane over for warm-up and drills, Coach Gerardo moved me to the "fast" lane where there was a higher contingent of swift swimmers than usual. Then, we paired up into two's and raced 25 yards all-out with 20 seconds of rest between sets.  The winner of each set faced a faster swimmer until that person lost. Personally, I felt like I had no business beating anybody in that lane.  But I'm so paranoid about making a fool of myself or embarrassing myself that it propels me even faster.  I don't want anybody in the fast lane thinking I don't belong there, so I push harder to sort of justify my existence in that space.

I suppose it paid off tonight, as I beat two of the three people I faced in our sprint heats.  Now that's not saying much, as it's entirely possible they weren't pushing as hard, were recovering from weekend races or are better long-distance swimmers than sprinters.  But for me, it was still validation.

I belong in the fast lane.  I earned it.  And while I know that in the grand scheme of "fast" swimmers I'm really glacial, on our team filled with people who have become true friends, I know I can hang.  I remember when I first started training for my first triathlon with Fortius and was beyond intimidated by everyone's skills.

I feel like I've come a long way.   Through a lot of hard work, that is.  And a lot more hard work to go.

77 days and counting.

Humble Pie

Boy, was I cocky today. I had one of those "strength/yoga" one-hour sessions on the calendar so I figured I'd saunter into the gym at lunch and knock it out.  Then, I noticed there was a "body-sculpting" workout during the same time frame.  "Why not?" I thought.  I'll just go easy for 30 minutes and not work out too hard.

Plus, how hard could it be?  After all, a few co-workers of mine who are in decidedly less good shape participate in the class and seem to do just fine.

With that, I walked into of my biggest training traps yet.

Once I got the step-up board and two sets of two planks, followed by 15, 8 and 5-pound weights, class was ready to begin.  But not before my colleague, Johnny, wandered over in my direction to warn me that I should "get the light weights" because this class is tough and I should take it easy for my first time in here.

Seriously?  Did you just say that to me?  The guy looks and talks like the character Nigel from The Replacements -- that Keanu Reeves football flick featuring among other quirky characters that tall, lanky Welsh field goal kicker.  Seriously, you're telling me to take it easy?

Now it's on!

And then class started.

Kyla, a bouncy blond whom the term "California Girl" was invented for, kicked things off with a series of squats with weights and using the step-up board.  Three hard-sets with plyometric exercises and weights.  No problem, I though.  A strong opening salvo, but I've been through much worse.

Then, we got into a series of balancing poses with weights on the step-up board, followed by intervals with "burpies", mountain climbers, push-ups and back to the balance-board.  We were 10 minutes in and I was sweating.

By the 15-minute mark, I was gazing at the clock the way Butler looked tonight against UCONN in the second half.  "Is this over with yet?  I didn't sign up for this crap!"

The next 15 minutes whirled by so fast I can't even remember the exercises because they happened so fast. There was lots of bending, holding, pulsing, squatting, jumping, balancing, and more lifting.  I started with the 15-pound weights, dropped to the 8-pound weights, and ultimately finished with the 5's.

We took a water break at the 30-minute mark.  This class was just warming up, but it was time for me to go and change for a work meeting.  I was drenched in sweat, and in desperate need of a shower.  I tried to look nonchalant about cleaning up my gear, but I couldn't wait to get out of the class. Kyla cheerfully said goodbye and thanks for coming on my way out.  I wonder if she was thinking, "Chump!" as I left.

I sure felt like one.  I had underestimated the class and pretty much disrespected everybody in it when I got into the room, and felt exactly the opposite when I left.  One form of fitness doesn't necessarily translate to the other.  And I'm pretty sure I pulled something in my lower back trying to keep up and not look like a sissy.  Except at one point I was being out-lifted by the girl next to me, though she was ripped to be fair!

Lesson learned.  Humble pie eaten.

I can't wait to go back to that class though.  I love a good challenge!

78 days and counting.

Quiet Day

Oh, how nice it was to sleep in late today.  I didn't get home until midnight from last night's basketbrawl at Staples Center, where the Lakers throttled the Dallas Mavericks by 28 points.  But once I finally crawled into bed to pass out, I really didn't move for almost nine hours. I needed that!

Today has been similarly slow. No bags to pack, no water bottles to fill.  No powder mess to clean up from the floor when I miss with my pour.

A real day off from training.  I tried to make the 6 p.m. deep stretch class at Black Dog Yoga tonight but I just had a little too much to wrap up in the office to feel comfortable leaving early.  So, I'll go home and try to really stretch well for an hour.

I need that as well.  I'm still sore from my strength training session with Shannan yesterday, which featured several sets of squats and plyometric jumping.  My hamstrings are displeased with me.

Not much more to say at the moment.  Just a nice day off from training to recharge the batteries a bit.  Got a lot to do this weekend, and won't be able to blog.  I'll be back on Monday though!

81 days and counting.

An Extra 10%

This morning, once again, I completed a back-to-back workout.  First, I spun easy for about 35 minutes (instead of 45) and then bolted to the pool to cram in another session of 10 x 100s, descending 100s for time and a 500 at T-pace (1:43/100).  I felt much better than Tuesday, when I was still recovering from the Pacific Half Marathon. Lately, I'm noticing I'm cutting roughly 10 minutes short of each scheduled workout. It's mainly because I'm busy and need the extra time to get ready and head to my next destination.  However, in my own subtle way, I think it's my small mini-rebellion against the heavily regimented nature of Ironman training.  Be here.  Do this exercise at this intensity for this amount of time.  Rest on this day.  Do this, don't do that.  Eat this, don't eat that.

It gets old after a while.

So perhaps this is my way of playing hooky while still getting credit for doing the homework.  Is that an oxymoron?

Whatever it is, I'm totally cool with it.  I'm getting the main thrust of the workout done and trying to do my best to keep my body and spirits fresh heading into the stretch run.  My hope is that the extra time off here and there will help me on IM CDA race day.  Maybe that extra 10% of extra overall energy can be the difference between being fresh and over-trained.  Doubtful, but I'm thinking in those terms at the moment.

Then again, on days like today, I didn't do much resting with that extra 10%.  Instead, I FINALLY got a strength training session in with Shannan.  Yoga and lifting have been the main casualties in this especially busy phase.  I'm hopeful in the coming weeks and months that I'll build back up on the strength and stretching to stay strong but limber.  Right now, I'm tight and tired!

I'm very much looking forward to my off-day tomorrow, that's for sure.  And it starts tonight, with Lakers tickets!  It's my first Lakers game of the season, and it couldn't come at a better time -- the biggest game of the season.  We've got to hold off Dallas for second place in the Western Conference.  I cannot wait.

Waking up early to get both main workouts done before work was entirely worth it.

Will try to upload images tomorrow morning before heading to work.  Go Lakers!

82 days and counting.

Inside the 84-Day Window

The critical stage of Ironman training has begun. According to author and Training Peaks co-founder Joe Friel, the final 84 days of Ironman training are the most important.  Workouts must be completed as prescribed as often as possible, with the goal being not to miss a single workout within this window. Last year, I completed 90% of my workouts en route to Ironman Arizona.  This year, it's more difficult. I'm going to have to be craftier and more flexible with my schedule to make Ironman training, work, and wedding planning equally important.  Some days, that's going to be easier than others.

Like today.  Following a successful Community Day event for our fans yesterday, there was going to be virtually no way I was going to awake myself earlier than 7 to do a two-hour brick.  So, instead I went into work a little earlier than normal, worked a full day, and left at 5 to complete my two-hour brick in the evening.  The bonus being that the Fortius/LA Tri Club Wednesday evening bricks have returned!  I haven't participated in one of these workouts since last September.  It felt like a reunion.  Except this reunion featured a lot more people than last year wearing Fortius kits.  I'm very happy for Coach Gerardo that his company is growing.  I'd say a full third of the athletes who showed up today were wearing Fortius gear.

I'm still feeling some of the effects of my Pacific Half Marathon on Saturday.  The legs are tight for sure, though my new-found running form carried me smoothly through a light three miles today after an hour bike ride.  Having conversation with actual people besides the voices in my head helped too.

Spring started more than a week ago officially, but for me, it began tonight.  With friends old and new, a little extra light at the end of the day, and the knowledge that where there's a will to find a way to complete Ironman training, I will be ready in 83 days to conquer another milestone.

Yes.

83 days and counting.

Guest Blog: Jim Gourley

Today, for the first time (but probably not the last), I turn my blog over to a trusted fellow journalist and someone I now consider a friend.  Jim Gourley is the military athletes columnist for Lava Magazine, and contributes to other publications as well.  He's also got a successful blog, "Life Against the Clock" where he goes more in-depth on key topics within the triathlon space as well as life in general.  Jim is currently addressing gripes about the WTC, the corporation responsible for the Ironman brand. In his piece below, Jim calls upon his combat experience to explore why athletes such as myself use military metaphors to describe triathlon competition, and which warrior analogies may fit specific athlete archetypes.  I know you will enjoy it immensely.

Here's Jim!

***

"Ryan often refers in his columns on LAVA and on this blog to the mindset with which he approaches training. He recently asked me about a passage in an upcoming column in which he discusses feeling like a soldier in a war movie. He wanted to make sure the reference wouldn't be offensive to real soldiers. It reminded me of how, during my time in the Army, I and my comrades often made references to some of those same movies. As I recalled one instance after another, it struck me as funny how, in the middle of my most depressing or dangerous moments in Iraq, someone would pop off with a quote from a movie that was eerily appropriate to our situation.

But not films like Saving Private Ryan or The Hurt Locker. We mostly recited lines from flicks like Office Space or Groundhog Day. In case no one's let you in on the big secret yet, combat for most troops is more like the latter pair than the former. As the saying goes, it's endless days of utter boredom, broken up by five-second fits of sheer terror.

I've noticed an irony in that difference in perception. Ryan is one of probably thousands of athletes that psyches himself up to train or race by thinking of a warrior preparing to do battle. He's thinking of Russell Crowe wading through the carnage of the Germania battlefield as he comes out of the water and rushes through transition. He's Maverick on the bike. He's Private Gump coming down the chute on the run. A lot of athletes start their training each day by reciting the mantra of the Navy SEALs-- The only easy day was yesterday. Meanwhile, that warrior preparing to do combat is psyching himself up by thinking of things in terms of sports. "Get your game faces on," the sergeant tells his troops. "Pace yourselves. It's a marathon, not a sprint," the commander admonishes his lieutenants. "Your squad leader's been injured. I need you to carry the ball," the lieutenant tells the young corporal. If you only had their lingo to distinguish a competitor from a combatant, it's likely you'd get the two

confused in short order.

Within that confusion exists a misconception that may hinder the efforts of some "Iron-warriors" to get their heads in the game. Specifically, there's no such thing as "the warrior mentality." Like athletes, there are as many different warrior mentalities as there are warriors. Oddly enough, I see this misconception in both my military and civilian friends. Everyone has the same idea of what the "warrior mentality" is, and it's most strongly associated with the ancient Spartans. I assume it's a result of the highly stylized (and only marginally accurate) portrayal of the Battle of Thermopylae in the movie 300. The marketing push for that film included a lot of articles in the fitness press about the workout program Gerard Butler and other actors endured to get into shape for their parts.

Yet, as essential as the Spartan mentality was to Spartan victory in that battle, it could be as detrimental to another warrior or athlete in different circumstances. What if Leonidas and his Spartans hadn't found the narrow passage through the cliffs to act as a chokepoint for the approaching Persian forces? A "death before dishonor" attitude wouldn't have achieved much on an open field where they could have been surrounded. We've all been in situations where discretion was the better part of valor. A Spartan attitude on an out-and-back course would have you bonk from pushing against headwinds on the way out before you turn on the inbound leg where you could really make speed.

Perhaps you are the Spartan Warrior, the archetype that thinks pain is to an Ironman what a beer bong is to a frat party. The pain itself is what you're here for. The more you make it hurt for yourself, the more it hurts the competition. You can absorb as much punishment as it takes to watch the other guy crack and fade away. That's how you win.

Or maybe you're the Zen Warrior-- the Samurai of Japan or the Shaolin monks of China. The pain is not an end unto itself or even a means to victory. Rather, victory relies on achieving a state of mind free from being distracted by thoughts of pain, distance or time. When the mind knows only the instantaneous form and function of your body, then you have achieved what the famed swordsman Miyamoto Musashi called "the Void"-- a place of no thought, where the mind sees limitless possibilities and the body has infinite potential.

You might be the Revolutionary Warrior-- you run for a cause more dear to you than life itself. Nothing will stop you from reaching your goal. Neither pain nor peace motivate or detain you. You're the passionate fighter, the one who not only shows one can be a lover and a fighter, but that you only truly love something if you're willing to fight for it.

Sun Tzu, in his treatise The Art of War, said "If you know your enemy and not yourself, you will win a battle and lose a battle. If you know both your enemy and yourself, you will win a hundred battles without fail. If you know neither your enemy nor yourself, you cannot hope to win a single battle."

Before getting into your warrior mentality, ask yourself what kind of warrior you are. Like the man said-- knowing is half the battle."

84 days and counting.

Can Games Make You Fitter?

Today my normally scheduled blog post will be shown via my friend and fellow writing colleague Jim Gourley's site: Life Against the Clock.  Jim asked me for my thoughts about the fitness genre within the video games industry and whether such games might help America fight our collective obesity problem. In short, I think the games industry most definitely can and will help.  With the smashing success of Wii Fit, Dance Dance Revolution appearing  in schools as part of their phyisical eductation curricula, and the rise of Xbox Kinect or PlayStation Move, the games-as-fitness revolution is quickly gaining speed.

Click here to check out my blog post on Jim's site.  I put a lot of time into this one so I hope you find it provocative.  Let me know what you think!

Tomorrow, Jim appears as a guest blogger on my site, where he'll be writing about the "warrior" mentality of triathlon.  It's quite an insightful read, shared by an Iraq veteran and well-versed triathlete.  You are gonna love it.

I'll be back on Wednesday, and of course reading and responding to comments before then.

85 days and counting.

PS: Went to an ART appointment this morning to work out the creaky crinks in my calves, quads, adductors and IT bands.  I don't feel "great" today but I'm a LOT better than I was just a few hours ago.  Light recovery run and some yoga on the workout plate for whenever I can fit them in today.

Still Recovering

Yesterday's Pacific Half Marathon took a lot out of me.  While I'm not in as much discomfort physically as I was after Ironman Arizona, I haven't been this sore in a long time.  After IMAZ, I could barely sit on a toilet without pain, let alone a concerted effort to get that low.  Tonight, despite a recovery swim and spin, I'm close to the same territory.  Getting up and down out of a chair is tough at the moment. I think that's because I raced at a harder pace on a tougher course than what I had been training for.  This really breaks the rule of proper training when combining proper intensity and duration.  I've been training at a lower heart-rate and lower speed for much of the year so far, then went out and blew that pace and heart-rate out of the water.  My heart-rate averaged closer to the 160s for much of the race instead of the high 140s or low 150s.

I don't regret it though.

I do regret that my brick was scratched today due to weather. It was just too wet and nasty outside to go for a five-hour ride/run fest.  Instead, Coach Gerardo, Ray and I met to swim at VNSO Park.  Honestly, it was one of my all-time favorite swims.  Gerardo and I shared a lane, basically swam however we felt for most of our 45 minutes and then challenged each other to a game of swimming H-O-R-S-E that I highly recommend others try too.  We'd take turns coming up with challenges to see who could complete them first. For example, fastest 25, fastest 50 with a pull buoy and flip turn, and my personal favorite, fastest 25 while wearing a swim fin on one hand.

It's been so long since I've just had plain and simple fun while training.  Today was one of those days.  So while I regret not being able to get the intense training in, perhaps what I gained was even more important: Relaxation, rest, and some perspective.

86 days and counting.

Overbiting, Overachieving

A couple nights ago, I was watching my Arizona Wildcats pummel Duke at a local taco shop, exhausted after a tough swim workout.  My Fortius friends were there too and just as they arrived, I took a giant bite of my taco, only to realize that I hadn't chewed enough. It slithered painfully slow down my esophagus.  And stayed there for about an hour and a half while I dry heaved and paced painfully in the hallway at home.  That was after my teammates and friends, Mike and Karen drove me home because I became pale and light-headed. This isn't the first time that's happened to me.

I have a habit of biting off more than I can chew, literally and metaphorically.

But I wonder is that a bad thing? Which leads me to my race report today from what was supposed to be the Cheseboro Half Marathon, as part of the Great Race of Agoura.  Instead, the trail race was cancelled and funneled into the Pacific Half Marathon road race -- which I completed two years ago to the tune of 1:50:19.

Honestly, I didn't want to run the Pacific Half.  I had run four times this week already, was experiencing mild discomfort in my calves and Achilles area, and generally didn't feel fresh or loose. But, Coach Gerardo said I should do it, and I knew I was slightly behind on the running aspect of my training.

So I ran.  And what was supposed to be a "training run" turned into a personal vendetta to not only beat my 2009 Pacific Half time, but also to see if I could break my previous best finish at a half marathon, 1:45:59 at Surf City last year.

I did it, by more than a minute -- 1:44:52 by the official chip time. An 8:01/mile pace.

I didn't expect to PR. Not today.  Not with weather in the mid 30's at race start.  Not after eating a bacon cheeseburger for dinner last night, and an ice cream sandwich for dessert after lunch.  And most definitely not because at first, I simply didn't believe I could do it.

Then, the race started.  And I stopped worrying about it.  I remembered my interview for Lava Magazine I had recently with Tim Bomba, who runs the LA Tri Club's "Ocean 101" circuit.  He told me the best race he ever had was when he stopped caring about the results, essentially turned off the watch, and just had fun.

So that's what I tried to do today, within reason.  I never knew what my actual race pace was. Instead, I focused on heart rate but didn't let myself care too much if it exceeded my pre-game mental threshold of approximately 155 bpm.  If I felt like running hard, I did.  If I felt like slowing down, I did that too. But the one thing I WOULD NOT DO was stop.  That was the only promise I made to myself, and of course, it wasn't a difficult promise to keep.  As you can see with the elevation profile on the course, it's not the flattest course around. Especially with a nearly one-mile climb at the three-mile mark.  But I know that based on my training, I recover well.  My heart-rate can drop pretty quick, so why not let it ride a bit?

It worked.  And so did the lessons I learned from my buddy Greg Moe, who coached me through a run workout last week where we focused on cadence, downhill running and arm movement.  I practiced all three today, with downhill running primarily being responsible for me hitting my new PR.  I used to brake on downhills, afraid that I'd be hurting my quad muscles or IT bands.  Since I now am better at forefoot striking, it's less of an issue.  Once I got to the top of the peak climb during the race, I leaned forward and simply let the hill carry me down -- to the tune of a 6:42 mile.  I would not have even attempted to go that fast in the past for fear of blowing up later in the run. Not caring as much if I did, while trusting that I'd recover quickly enough not to, were both key in ensuring that my heart-rate remained consistent throughout the race.

Until the final mile.

Then, I let it out.  My heart felt like it was cramping but I pushed forward as best I could, catching up to people in front of me who dogged me through the entire race.  All I saw was their sweaty backs throughout the morning, until the very end.  I can honestly say I didn't leave a thing extra from within on that course.  It was my best effort, and it feels good.

So much for a training run though.  Once again, I over-bit.  Once again though, I think I over-achieved beyond my expectations.  Sometimes biting off more than one can chew hurts.  Sometimes you have to cough it back up.  And sometimes when that happens, you have to clean up the vomit, wipe off your mouth, and ask for seconds.  I literally ate the meal I couldn't get down Thursday night for breakfast on Friday morning.  I had to finish what I started, I suppose.

Now, the question will be how well I recover, as tomorrow I do it all over again -- this time on the bike for a five-hour climb-fest with my buddy Caleb.  Then, I'll be swimming if I have anything extra left in the tank.  I'm not counting on it, but I will try.

For now, I'm still wearing my finisher's medal.  I'm going to savor today just a bit longer.

87 days and counting.