Shout Out to Tri-Widows

Sometimes Stephanie asks me how my day went and I don't know what to say.  It sounds so trivial, really.  I woke up early, ran for a while, maybe jumped in the pool for a bit and went to work.  I attended a bunch of meetings really about nothing important, did some other work too, and then after leaving the office I either came home or worked out some more.  Then I blog.  End of story. Meanwhile, Steph is up to her eyeballs in work, building a career, trying to juggle multiple wedding vendors and their tedious contracts, planning a close friend's bachelorette party and trying to help maintain a home for us both.  Her to-do list looks like my to-bring list for a race, just longer and without the butt-butter.

After spending two nights just trying to pick up a bit more of the household load, I realized while folding laundry and towels that I've got nothing on her!

So tonight, instead of spending a bunch of time reflecting on my hard swim workout, or watching Paris-Roubaix replay (again) while spinning, or the lifting I did at lunch with Shannan, I'm going to write about folding laundry. Cleaning out drawers. Hanging dresses. Doing dishes.  Picking up around the house.  Taking over some wedding planning duties.  Helping cook dinner last night.  This is the stuff that's really important.

We as triathletes have to remember that while we juggle three sports, our partners juggle our three sports (and hearing about them endlessly) AND their lives too.

I'm not sure which is more mentally taxing.  I may be the Ironman.  But Steph is no less an Iron Woman for enduring and being such a supportive partner.

61 days and counting.

Why I Almost Signed Up for IM St. George: Part 2

Upon entering VNSO pool yesterday morning for my 3,200 yard swim, I saw the following sign posted near the dressing room door: "Pool to be closed for maintenance for 3 WEEKS starting May 31."

I had to do a triple-take.  No, this can't be happening!  Seriously?  The final three weeks of IM Coeur d'Alene training?  When I'm in the pool for repeated 4,000-yard workouts and then running off to work, then more long-distance training after work?

Yes, there are other pools in the area.  But none are quite as convenient as VNSO, which is literally 5 minutes from my condo.  I can roll out of bed, put on my swimsuit, grab a banana to eat quickly, fill my water bottle and within 15 minutes I'm swimming laps.  It's fast, and most important, conveniently on my way to work.

Now, I'll need to head the opposite direction, to Calabasas, to fit in my morning swims.  Then, I'll need to fight traffic to get to work on time.  It's a hassle, and really the last thing I need or want at this point in my training.  Worse, I'm not sure what Coach Gerardo is going to do about coached swim workouts in the evening or mornings as those require permits.  Is it really worth the effort to secure those for three weeks?

This led me yesterday to make up my mind that I was going to go for Ironman St. George.  I'm sick of scheduling my life around training!  So the best way around that is to A) be done as quick as possible and take a longer break and B) IM St. G is on May 7, so the pool being closed May 31-June 24 won't really matter to me.

My mind was further made up after I spent time talking with Mark Allen, widely considered one of if not THE greatest triathlete of all time.  I'm interviewing Mark for my next "Mind Games" column with Lava Magazine Online.  I couldn't resist asking him about my "dilemma" at the end of our interview.  His advice? Why not do BOTH St. George and IM CDA?

My heart says YES!  My body says NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Marks' feeling was that you should race at the races you want to race at.  If St. George is calling to me, which it is and will continue to, then I should do it.

Then, after a second Passover seder last night, I talked with Stephanie about it.

She thinks I likely won't be physically able to complete IM CDA if I do St. George, and if I don't do CDA then I've wasted a huge amount of money.  This is true.  And the race is largely non-refundable ($150 return for $575 registration, no thanks!).  So, in pragmatic terms, I'd be spending close to an extra $1,000 just to satisfy a deep primal urge to be an Ultimate Badass(TM).  And, if I tried to do CDA, I'd still need to find a friggin' pool for those three weeks!!!

So, after having some real sense talked into me, I'm back to my original plan.  I'm going for IM CDA, with all my might.

I really want to try St. George.  If I was made of money right now, didn't have two games shipping this fall, wasn't planning for a wedding and honeymoon or writing for Lava, I just might do it.

Instead, I'll think about St. George for next year, depending on the state of my mind, body and spirit. I know I've said CDA will be my last full-distance Ironman, but St. George is only six hours away!  It's so close, whispering to me.

If only Coeur d'Alene was whispering to me as loudly.  I think I need to work on that.  The Wildflower long-course next Saturday will help.

62 days and counting.

10 Triathlete Plagues

In the spirit of Passover and my second Seder, here are what I consider to be the 10 Plagues of Triathlon. For those of you who don't know (which is totally OK), when Pharaoh in Egypt wouldn't let the Israelites go, G-d told Moses that 10 terrible plagues would haunt Egyptians until their leader decided to free the enslaved Jews.  They included gruesome stuff like blood, frogs, gnats, boils, locusts, darkness and the slaying of the first-born Egyptians.  Of course, this is where the term Passover comes from, since G-d also mentioned to the Israelites that they should sacrifice a lamb and spread the blood on their doorposts so G-d knew to "pass over" those homes when exacting the final plague.

Whether you believe this is up to you, obviously.  I'm merely relating the story as it's been relayed to me for the past 36 years!

Anyway, if G-d were to do that to triathletes, here's what would surely test our will:

-- Flat tires

-- Gale-force headwinds

-- Frigid cold

-- Oil slicks

-- Hurricanes

-- Sharks

-- Texting car drivers

-- Humidity

-- Bike thieves

And the 10th plague, the worst of all, would be...

Being unable to participate in this awesome sport.

What would your 10th plague be?

Happy Passover, or Easter!

64 days and counting.

What, Me Worry?

In the span of a week here in Southern California, we've gone from the hypothermia-inducing cold of last Saturday's Mulholland Challenge to the sweltering heat yesterday from our five-hour brick session.  As a result of not being able to reach parts of my back to apply sunblock and being too stubborn to ask anyone, I earned my "tri-wings" -- the unmistakable sign of a sleeveless jersey-wearing triathlete.

Man, it stings too!

What also stings is knowing that if it's hot at the upcoming Wildflower long course triathlon, I may just melt.  Though my DeSoto arm coolers helped yesterday on the bike (I never felt too hot nor dehydrated), I cut my 60-minute run short because I felt myself overheating.  I shuffled/ran/walked while trying to keep my heart rate beneath 163 bpm and was largely successful. However, in just shy of 40 minutes I only managed 3.75 miles on hilly, dusty terrain.  The same terrain many of us will see at Wildflower.  I remember drenching myself in sponges last year that scantily clad college coeds gave me as my body temperature crept upward as morning turned into mid-day.

I wonder how it will be this year?

Moreover, this morning's 1,500-yard time trial swim in Calabasas with my Fortius buddies indicated that I didn't recover too well from yesterday's bake-fest.  Even if I did miscount a couple laps in the water (forgive me please...it was 60 flip turns!), my T-pace sagged to 1:54-1:57.  I'm typically in the 1:41-1:48 range.

Should I be alarmed?  I don't think so.  It's hot, my body isn't used to the weather right now, and I have time to acclimate. Further, we all know it's possible to turn in a less-than-impressive workout from time to time.  The key is moving past it and looking forward to tomorrow's training. Which is exactly what I'm going to do, along with an ART session.

Part of my problem is that my body is wound tightly with inelastic fascial tissue in my back, and my calves/Achilles feel spring-loaded to the point where they could shoot arrows across a field.  I think to move forward in the next couple weeks, I need to take better care of myself, get plenty of rest, eat right, and stretch more.

So that's my plan as I head into the two-week window before my first real "race" of the season.

I find myself quite excited to get back out on a race course.  Though I may need to cram an open-water swim session in beforehand -- especially considering I just wrote about that topic last month in Lava!

Gotta practice what I preach.

66 days and counting.

10 Years Ago

So often in my blogging, I tend to focus on how I've changed over the past year or so.  But today marks an even more substantial milestone in my life.  Ten years ago, I quit my job, car, apartment and all trappings of a "normal" life.  I took my life savings, crammed it all into a backpack, and jumped on a plane to Europe to live in hostels unknown for three months. What a risk!  What a thrill!

It was the best, most important decision I had ever made.  The decision that has led to so many other important decisions in my life.   That moment in life taught me that the unknown is a GOOD thing.  While the idea of the "bad" stuff can be scary, the risk of not knowing and missing something beautifully unforgettable is even worse.

I have no doubt that without taking this risk 10 years ago, I wouldn't have had the balls to fully commit in my relationship with Stephanie because of our cultural and religious differences.  I'm truly amazed at how life is like a giant dominoes experiment sometimes.

What's funny though is that in life, as in dominoes cascades, you can sometimes be lucky enough to arrange the tiles and tip them at just the right moment to get the result you want.  I was lucky enough to place the dominos to fall in my favor, and even luckier that my unintended Rube Goldberg experiment has gone off without too many hitches.  Though to be fair, when I came back from Europe, the job that was supposed to be waiting for me had vanished --victim to a merger.  I was jobless for six months, and showed up to my 10-year high school reunion living at home with my parents, with platinum-dyed hair, a bushy goatee, and driving my parents' beat-up Oldsmobile Cutlass.

I was voted Most Likely to Succeed in high school.  You can imagine the delicious irony showing up to my reunion in such style.

I'd still do it all over again, without changing a thing.

But what the hell does this have to do with triathlon?

Simple.  Triathlons are scary.  There's that whole open-water swimming thing.  And with sharks!?  Why would anybody want to do that???  And oy, the cycling!  You can fall and die or get paralyized so easily! (Heck, I almost did a few years ago.)  Don't even get me started on the running either.  You could fall over and die like all these other runners out there when they get heart attacks and keel over.

Ironman!?!?!  You can't be serious!!!???

Life is scary.  Expectations are scarier.  Pressure can be terrifying.

But the risk is worth the reward, in my opinion.  Whether deciding to buck what your parents want, or a lucrative job, or a nice car, -- or in our case what people think of our "lifestyle" -- what matters is getting the most out of life.

Ten years ago, I made a choice to do just that.

I haven't looked back since.

And if you're reading this blog, I suspect you're not either.

68 days and counting.

12121212...

Some people listen to music when they run.   But you can't really do it in races, so I generally avoid it. Some people listen to the music in their heads, which can be helpful come race day.  In training, that often devolves into endless repeats of the most annoying music on earth.  Most recently, that has meant Ke$ha and The Addams Family theme song (thank you David Wachtel.)

Fail.

So what do I do instead?  Lately, I've been counting silently, as in 1-2-1-2-1-2-1-2-1-2-1-2... for what seems like hours on end.  I'm sure you've done the same at some point, to keep that cadence high and your gait efficient.  Since my buddy Greg Moe taught me about the value of maintaining between 180-184 steps per minute when running, it's all I can think about on the course.  I've improved to where I can maintain a 90-92 left-foot steps per minute pace on a consistent basis, and now feel comfortable enough working with my buddy John to help him get there as well.

John and I met at Griffith Park this morning at 7 for a lightly-paced run focused on technical training and form.  When we started our first cadence drill, John was around 80 one-foot steps per minute.  However, I should first preface this by indicating that is working for John.  He placed second in his age group at a 10k in Encino last weekend, earning a handshake and a medal from none other than Rafer Johnson.  Yep, THAT Rafer Johnson (are there others though?).  So, John doesn't really need running tutelage per se.  We just wanted to experiment if we could make John run faster, with higher cadence, while keeping his heart-rate the same.

And we did.

By the end of our six-mile jog, John was running well ahead of me while maintaining a steady heart-rate...and his cadence jumped 10 steps per minute to a consistent 90.  Well done!

Though John went much faster than me, it was like I was running faster as well.  I'm not saying I've caught the coaching bug by any stretch.  But I admit to taking a certain amount of pride in watching John smile and enjoy his run just a bit more, and feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Maybe when all this training and racing subsides a bit, perhaps one day I will try to coach more.  If it's anything like what I felt today, then it just might be the best-kept secret of triathlon -- coaching is as good as racing.

69 days and counting.

No Workout Monday

I'm not really sure why Coach Gerardo gave me a day off from training today.  Oh yeah, the monster ride on Saturday!  Well, I didn't have any time to compile my video blog yet so stay tuned for that.  Instead, my free time this morning was spent at the doctor's office for the annual physical and drawing of blood.  Whee!  My favorite. Physically, I feel fine today.  I could have worked out, same as yesterday,when I swam a hard 1,800 yards in 30 minutes and a light 45-minute run immediately following.  Shockingly, I could have kept going, which is very encouraging for Ironman training.  So much so that I started to flirt with the idea of forgoing Ironman Coeur d'Alene and tackling St. George instead.  But that just might be a bit too crazy given my already hectic schedule.  Then again, if I complete IM StG in early May, I'm essentially done with tri-racing for the year and can focus more on work, wedding, having a life, etc.  It's a tempting offer, but perhaps I'm underestimating the difficulty of the St. George course.  Further, I had a very hard time staying warm during the coldest portion of the Mulholland Challenge bike ride, shivering uncontrollably for minutes at the base of PCH upon leaving the chilly mountains.  St. George is supposed to be similarly cold, especially in the water.  Can I hack it?

I kind of want to find out.  Then again though, if I stay on my plan toward CDA, I can take the experience and strength I gained from this weekend and apply it towards a better result.  It's a great conundrum to face.

But the best conundrum of all is enjoying a rare Monday off-day.  What to do with the extra time?  Unfortunately, it was spent in a doctor's office, having a dull needle shoved in my arm.  Come to think of it, that's not too dissimilar from a hard day of training.

Both leave you feeling a bit woozy and needing sugar afterwards.

71 days and counting.

The Gift of Inspiration

There's lots I could write about from this weekend, especially the most grueling single bike ride I've ever endured -- The Mulholland Challenge.  If there's a hill in the Santa Monica Mountains between Topanga Canyon and Yerba Buena Road in Malibu, chances are we climbed it on Saturday -- to the tune of 112 miles and 12,750 feet of combined elevation. I video blogged the journey and hope to have some time to edit it together tomorrow evening.  For now, below is the  map of my ride.  Don't mind the heart-rate, as my heart-rate monitor was all over the place.  Don't mind the pokey pace, my Fortius teammates and I stopped quite often to take in the view, joke around and generally goof off.

(Quick aside: I think one has to make a decision before a long ride about whether it's a ride for time or a social group ride.  It can't be both. )

I'd like to focus on something more important for this post, and it has to do with one of my loyal readers, Laura.  While I tend to write fairly introspectively about what I'm going through -- hoping that maybe someone else is going through it too -- Laura is investing her time doing something far more valuable (in my opinion).  She's started a triathlon blog site, "Tri2fightlikeJoann.com" dedicated to the memory of her Aunt Joann.  Here is an excerpt from the About page:

"Joann Cotton was a mother to Claire and Taylor. A damn good mother. She was a wife, a daughter, a sister, a friend. A twin. She was an Aunt.  She was my Aunt. She was an English teacher, and took such pride in educating students. She was selfless and cared about everyone else before herself.  She was competitive. She usually won. A true friend that was always there. She was funny and silly. She had cancer. And she kicked it’s ass daily. She never complained once, not once. She inspired me. And continues to inspire many, many others. She was as good as gold, yet nothing gold can stay.

Thank you for supporting Tri2FightLikeJoann. You are helping keep her memory alive, and celebrating the lives of all others with ovarian cancer.

And you are appreciated."

Laura, your blog site is beautiful.  And touching.  And humbling at the same time.  I am proud to know you, and plan to think often of Joann during the rest of my training.  In fact, if you have a sticker or something I can put on my helmet for Ironman Coeur d'Alene I'd like to wear it in Joann's honor.

In fact, I'd like to bring each and every one of you with me to Coeur d'Alene somehow.  If there's a cause or anything I can help shine a spotlight on, I'd like to do that.  When I first started this blog site it was meant for the kids I don't have.  To teach them about what accomplishing a large goal feels like.  How hard it is.  How wonderful it feels when the finish line is crossed, and yet how much it hurts to get there.

But, through the course of the last year and a half, I've learned this blog site is really about the relationships I've built with many of you.  An unexpected gift.  And that gift has worked both ways, in that Laura was kind enough to share with me that somehow my blog site inspired her to make something far more substantial, in my opinion.

Go Laura go!

So often the sport of triathlon can be a solitary pursuit.  But these are the stories, the inspirations, that really matter.

Thank you, Laura, for inspiring me, and hopefully many more people.

72 days and counting.

Decisions, Decisions

My stomach rumbles.  It's 6:30 p.m.  I'm supposed to be leaving for swim class shortly.  I'm doing the Planet Ultra Mulholland Challenge on Saturday. 112 miles, 12,750 feet of climbing. I won't lie, I'm nervous.  What is this going to do to my Wildflower legs? Is this challenge worth it?  Why am I going to do this to myself?

Well, there's only one answer.  Because it's there!  Because I can.  Because Wildflower isn't a guarantee.  Really, what is?  Life, death and taxes, Mark Twain would say.

Some might argue that I'm hastening one of the three of those inevitabilities by torturing myself for eight hours Saturday morning.  I look at it slightly different.  If I can get through that kind of agony, then the hills and ensuing run both at Wildflower and Ironman Coeur d'Alene should feel comparably reasonable.  Notice I didn't say "easy." I wouldn't do that.  An Ironman is NOT easy.  But, when the sun starts to go down in Coeur d'Alene on June 26, when I'm at mile 16 and realize I've got another two hours of running, I'll remember the Mulholland Challenge.

How I remember it remains to be seen.  But, I'll at least give it my best shot instead of wondering what if.

So, the question remains...pool swim tonight or take some extra time off for added rest?

I'm going to let my car decide.  Wherever I end up is what I'm going to do.  And you'll have the answer tomorrow.

75 days and counting.