Sizing it Up

I'm  in Paso Robles at the La Quinta Inn with my friends Chris, Tia and Mike, winding down our preparations for tomorrow's Wildflower Long Course triathlon.  It's 8:30 p.m. and we're going to bed for a 5:15 a.m. wakeup call.

It's been an exhausting two days.  Yesterday, I took the day off from work to focus on race prep and getting my head straight.  Instead, I worked from home and completed two upcoming articles for Lava Magazine Online -- one of them ironically dedicated to stress management.  I went to bed last night cranky, tired and felt bad because I took it out on Stephanie.  It's the taper, I told myself.  But still, there's really no excuse to be a brat.

My mood continued through this morning, when I rushed out the door in a blur after submitting both articles and arriving late for our scheduled 9 a.m. caravan time.  I was frazzled and couldn't have been further from my desired mental place a day before racing.  I needed quiet time. Badly.

However, when you travel with a group anywhere, that's not what you're going to get.  So, taking a lesson from one of the professional triathletes I interviewed for the stress column, I controlled the situation as best I could and got quiet within my own mind.  I thought about what I could do to have a great race, the important steps to enjoying a great race.  For once, I tried not to think about hitting a specific timeframe, which is difficult for someone as competitive as I am.

While I'm not sure how this approach will play out tomorrow, I do know it helped me today once my group and I entered the Wildflower expo area. G-d and G-dess bodies abound at the lake.  Everyone is ripped, dressed in their pre-race compression gear and looking ready to absolutely crush the course.  My friends noticed several competitors and called them out to each other, questioning whether they could beat them.  I remained silent.  I can't control their performance.  Or anyone else's but mind.  It doesn't matter who's faster than me.  What matters is did I run the best race I could, and how can I ensure I achieve my potential.

I am nervous for tomorrow morning.  Who isn't before a big race?  But I feel prepared.  I know I belong here, along with the athletes who might look the part better than I do and even talk the talk better.  I am aware, but I am not afraid.

So for once, instead of sizing up the competition, I'm simply sizing up myself.  And, despite a hectic two days preceding the race, I like what I see.

58 days and counting.

Sea Change

In the workplace, fancy business magazines and consultants call it a "sea change" when something profound occurs to shift not just a business, but an industry or a movement. I feel like I experienced something similar to a sea change ironically in the pool tonight. Maybe it's merely an epiphany but I realized that instead of lamenting all the training and counting the days until "the end" (IM Coeur d' Alene), I need to really savor these moments while I can. Truth is, "the end" is nearer than I'd care to admit -- and that will be the real end of my racing and serious training for 2011.  In June.  Just two months away.

Whereas not having a set schedule sounded so appealing, now I realize it also means the absence of something special.  A bond with teammates. A common goal.  The chance to put myself to the test.

In other words, a void.

In two months, I'll be putting it all on the line for my second Ironman within a calendar year.  And then, that's it.  No race goals.  No training goals other than what I choose for myself.

I'm excited for the free time and of course the biggest day of all -- my wedding.  But instead of just getting through each day of training, I'm going to try harder to take it all in and enjoy each workout for what it is -- a pronouncement that I have big goals and am achieving them.  None of this comes easy, but the knowledge that I've vowed to do something for myself and am actually seeing it through is something I'm proud of.  And, none of this is guaranteed.  I could get hurt tomorrow and my break would start a lot sooner than I wanted.

So, here's to being grateful for every workout.  Here's to savoring an accomplishment.  Here's to enjoying the stretch run, and this Saturday's race.

Maybe that's why my water bottle quote for Wildflower will be "Peace Within."

Now THAT is a sea change for me.

61 days and counting.

I'm Ready

Fortius Coaching held a Wildflower pre-race strategy meeting in Encino tonight. As I sat there with my teammates, serving as the dutiful note-taker, I realized something important.  Perhaps the most important thing I've realized all year so far:  I'm so ready for this race.  And for every race moving forward. I do give much credit to my coach.  I know what to expect at these races.  I know how to remain calm.  I know that I need a routine, my own routine, to get ready on race day. I know that means going away from the group and getting in my zone, my place.  I know I need music to find that place as well.

What I don't need are lots of facts and reminders about what exactly to do and when to do it.  I learned all that stuff last year.  I know when to eat before a race, what to eat, and how much to drink.  When I started thinking about all those details tonight during the meeting I started to stress out.  It's a lot to remember!  I'd rather just trust myself at this point, show up to the race, run my ass off and celebrate afterwards.

That is going to be my plan.  Along with coming up with a cool quote to write on my water bottle for race day.  Any suggestions out there?  So far I'm thinking, "Don't think. Just Race."

62 days and counting.

Fuel Belt Review

The other day, I had to switch cars for a week with Stephanie as hers was in the repair shop (my father's repair shop, to be precise).  One disadvantage to switching cars is that when it comes to triathlon training, you're really switching locker rooms.  That means bike helmet, cleats, pump, swim fins, gloves and hand pump. It also meant taking my Nathan two-bottle running belt. Somewhere between the time I took that belt and the time I got my car back, Nathan decided to up and leave me.  I'm pretty sure it had something to do with my GYST transition backpack I've been toting around -- looking like a tiny second-grader in the process.  The Nathan belt has a generous amount of Velcro and likes to attach itself to clothing or anything else nearby.  I'm pretty sure Nathan hitched a ride on the GYST Express and got off somewhere in my work parking lot.

Which leads me to Wildflower long-course triathlon, a little less than a week away. It's going to be hot that day.  Real hot.  Wildflower is the kind of place where 80 degrees will feel like 90.  So I'll need a hydration system of some kind for the dusty, sweltering run.  My wave starts at 8:35 a.m, meaning I'll be on the trails starting around noon, the heat of the day.

I chose to experiment with the Fuel Belt R30 for two reasons. First, the store I went to (Runnergy in Sherman Oaks) didn't have a Nathan three or four-bottle belt in my size.  Second, I've found that for two-hour runs or longer, a two-bottle Nathan belt (approximately 10 ounces per bottle) doesn't contain enough fluid for me to stay fully hydrated.  I need at least three bottles.

The R30 Fuel Belt gives me an extra 4 ounces overall, with each bottle being slightly smaller (8 ounces) though.  The challenge with a three-bottle system, at least with this Fuel Belt, is that all three bottles are positioned on the back part of my hips or directly on my backside.  That's inefficient from a running perspective and threw off my gait when I first tried using the belt this past Friday during my Griffith Park long run.

Further, the Fuel Belt has only a small square pouch on the right side for keys and possibly one folded gel.  You can add additional storage on the belt, but of course you're gaining further weight.  That's a touchy trade off.

I'm not that impressed with the R30 Fuel Belt.  The bottles aren't removed easily from their plastic holders, unlike my old trusty Nathan belt.  The Fuel Belt plastic almost feels more rigid, so that if you don't place the bottle correctly in the holder it won't slide into place. This was especially frustrating for me as I found myself twisting my hips and back more mid-stride focusing on putting the bottle(s) back instead of where I was going.  That's not safe on trails!

In short, I miss my Nathan belt.  If I could place a "Missing" sign with a reward for it, I would. I'll likely use the Fuel Belt at Wildflower because it's better to have extra liquids there, but after that I plan to return the Fuel Belt and wait patiently for a properly sized Nathan three- or four-bottle system to arrive in the store.

63 days and counting (re-calibrated to sync with the actual race day!)

The Little Engine Who Couldn't and Then Did

You know the story, "The Little Engine that Could?"  I used to love hearing it as a kid.  Over and over again.  Maybe it rubbed off a bit on my personality. Today on my long two-hour run for the week, I was The Little Engine Who Couldn't.  I couldn't motivate because I was running alone early in the morning on my normal day off from training.  I couldn't elevate my heart-rate to the usual zones based on the usual activity level -- I was off by at least 10 bpm.  I couldn't travel much faster than the walking horses on the dirt path, and my run quality smelled like them too.

And then, I saw one of the strangest things in all my time training.  As I passed the Los Angeles Zoo parking lot in Griffith Park around 8 a.m. on my first of two loops, a man in corporate attire was playing the bagpipes next to his Porsche Cayenne.

I can't make this stuff up.  I'd say only in LA, but really, maybe it's only in Scotland?

The man belted out "Amazing Grace" as a horde of high school cross-country runners jetted past, waving, laughing and saluting.

Perhaps the man was paying tribute to a fallen comrade, or even rehearsing to do that at a funeral at the nearby Forest Lawn Cemetary.  Maybe he was just inspired.  Either way, I found my lost stride, my passion, and ultimately my speed.  I ran the second loop seven-minutes faster.

This further proved to me how the mind affects the body in training and racing.  I didn't want to be outside this morning.  I wanted to be in bed and it showed in my performance.  But once I committed to the run, truly and fully, my performance soared.  Well, it soared compared to where it was when I started.  Anyway, you get the idea.

The next time your engine is running a little slow, consider why and what you can do to change that in your own mind.  You might be surprised at what happens.

60 days and counting (btw, I know this isn't true and that once again my numbers are off!  I'll change this tomorrow!)

PPS: Tomorrow I hope to review the Fuel Belt R-30 (three-bottle holder). In short, OK but not great.  I'll tell you why.

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.