Noise Pollution

I'm at a wedding in Riverside, California, staying at the Mission Inn Hotel.  I trained for nearly four hours today, split almost evenly between swim, bike and run. Now though, the bass pounds from outside my hotel room, and I'm trying to sleep so I can do my back-to-back brick tomorrow.  People are out partying tonight.  Probably from this very wedding party and yet I'm in the hotel room, trying to get enough rest so I remain healthy and fit for the next two weeks.

This is as challenging as any triathlon.  Staying disciplined in the face of bacchanalian revelry.  I feel like a dick to Steph for not wanting to go out and party.  But fortunately, she's the maid of honor and staying with the bride-to-be tonight.  And thankfully, she understands anyway.  Two weeks to go, and I'm just trying to hold it all together for just a bit longer.  To be fair, it is 11:30 p.m. and we stayed out having lots of fun until then.

But as the bass undulates right outside my window, my patience wanes.  Sometimes, June 26 can't get here soon enough.

Two more weeks.  Hang in there.

16 days and counting.

Defining a Legacy

I was listening to sports radio (Colin Cowherd) this morning on the way to the final day of E3, the video games industry mega-trade show. He was talking about an Orlando Sentinel newspaper column that indicated LeBron James' entire career legacy would be defined by his performance in tonight's Dallas-Miami NBA Finals game. It got me thinking. Are we as triathletes defined by our event performance? Or one event in particular? If I fail at Ironman Coeur d'Alene does that mean my triathlon career is a failure? What about all the hard work that is poured into getting to that moment? Does it not mean a thing?

I think not!

Only the person creating the legacy ought to define the legacy. With his or her own imprint. And that imprint is made with the hundreds upon hundreds of hours of training -- whether for school, or work or sports.

Then, I got to imagining what it would be like to wake up the next day after a poor Ironman performance and read all about it in the blogs and news sites. That my legacy is defined by that moment. That would be tough to overcome. I guess it all comes down to expectations, and internalizing others' expectations instead of focusing on one's own goals. This is an important point for all us triathletes (and my fellow IM CDA competitors) to remember in the coming weeks. No matter what happens on race day, we all put in the hard work to get to that moment. Sure, it's disappointing not to hit the time goal you trained for -- I know, I've been there. But it doesn't mean your "legacy" has to be tarnished. Your legacy is reaching high for a goal, sticking with it, FINISHING the race and still being known forever as an Ironman.

THAT is our legacy. Nobody can take that from us.

17 days and counting.

PS: This is my run data from this past Sunday with Jason. Jason, this should help give you an idea of why the Garmin 310x rocks!

Standing at the Mountaintop...Again

Rejoice!  Ironman Coeur d'Alene taper has begun! After a Saturday of cycling and running seven hours and climbing 7,000-plus feet and a Sunday of running 13 miles and swimming close to 3,000 yards, I stand on the precipice of peak physical and mental fitness.

I am ready for Coeur d'Alene.

Earlier this week, I struggled with my personal trainer telling me I'm "just not cut out for running."  I've turned that into fuel for my fire, and a new mantra:

"I may not be a runner.  But I am a runner today."

That's how I felt as I ran the hills of Calabasas with my buddy Jason today.  I was planning on a mild, flat tempo run but Jason had other ideas.  He's gearing up for his first half marathon at Dirt Mulholland and wanted some climbing work.  I obliged, and I'm glad I did. While I think the workout was meant to be a confidence boost for him, it certainly turned out to be the same for me too.  We did some serious climbing today up Mulholland and some hilly neighborhoods near Calabasas High School.  My body held out just fine, as did my heart-rate.  Perhaps I pushed just a bit harder than I would have on my own, but having the company and the challenge of running with a friend made it more than worthwhile.

That's been the biggest difference between my final build phase for Ironman Arizona and Coeur d'Alene.  For my first Ironman, I trained at the same course (dreadful Fillmore), largely by myself.  This time, my big bike workouts have been at springtime century events, heavily supported by teammates and new friends I've met along the way.  My workouts have remained fun and challenging, not grueling and mind-grinding. The misery of peaking before IMAZ has been replaced by firm resolve to put my head down, shut up and simply get the work done.   To be fair, I also think it helps knowing what I'm up against in my second Ironman rather than staring into the darkness of potential failure and personal embarrassment of failing to finish my Ironman.

No such demons this time.

I have pretty pictures to support this blog entry, but alas I'm in the office at work now (10:30 p.m.)  preparing for tomorrow's epic E3 day of announcements.  So, those pretty pictures are going to have to wait until tomorrow.  In fact, this week is going to be a crapshoot on blog posts.  As I've mentioned before, this week is like the Super Bowl of the videogames industry, and our company is smack at the proverbial 50-yard line.

Thank goodness my build phase ended one-day before the madness. But where will I find time to rest?

Haven't figured that one out yet.

22 days and counting.

Macca Column Live on Lava

It's the final work week day going into the Super Bowl of video games, E3. Therefore, I'm slammed at the moment.  Lots going on. AND, today Lava Magazine released my June "Mind Games" column on Chris McCormack. You can read about it here.

Tonight, I'm off to dork out at the Hollywood Bowl to watch a Star Wars concert featuring Anthony Daniels, the voice of C3PO.  Yup, I'm a nerd at heart.  Tomorrow, I'm riding a century in beautiful Ojai, near Ventura and Santa Barbara.  Check out the course here.  I will write more tomorrow after my ride, and next week I'll update my blog with lengthier excerpts from my interview with Macca.  Can't wait to share that with you!

I gotta jet, but please read my Lava column and let me know what you think!

24 days and counting.

What Not To Say

Trainers are supposed to make you stronger.  Faster.  More powerful. They're not supposed to bring you down.  There's plenty of other ways and other people who can do that.  I'm not paying them though.  With that in mind, I'm annoyed with my own strength trainer today.  We've trained together for years now and I suppose we have that kind of relationship where perhaps she feels like she can say anything and it'll be OK.

Well, three weeks before an Ironman and it's NOT OK to tell me you don't think I'm cut out for running and that after the race I should stop for a few years.  I don't need to hear that right now!  Yes, I'm sure it's obvious to her that my skeletal structure is placing added stress on my hips.  Perhaps that is why I consistently have tightness in my hip flexors.  But so many other people do too.  That means nothing.  And the last time I checked, my trainer isn't a doctor so she can't say for sure.

Of course, my trainer isn't the first person to tell me it's somewhat of a miracle I can run at all.  My ART therapist told me the same thing earlier this year.  But my ART therapist nurtures me back to health, asks me questions about how I'm feeling, and leaves it at that.  He hasn't made any sweeping statements that would tug at my self-confidence in the dark hours of an Ironman.

Fortunately, I've learned a thing or two about mental training for an Ironman.  I feel very fortunate to have interviewed the top pros in the sport to learn how to prepare mentally for a race and deal with the pain and suffering that an Ironman brings.  Chrissie Wellington taught me how she creates a mental bubble for herself, only allowing in positive energy and comments while shutting out negativity. Today, after my strength workout, I created that bubble for myself.

I just thought I'd never need to use it because of what someone in my inner circle of supposed supporters said to me.

Being a good trainer has as much to do with how you communicate with your client as the kind of routine prescribed.  I've stuck with this person for years, through injuries likely caused from over-exertion, over-use of heavy weights, and over-use of a muscle group.  Still, I've been loyal.  But something as simple as a simple comment made me re-think the relationship today.  I have one more strength training session left at my work gym.

It may well be my last.

I know I have limitations.  I just don't need the people trying to build me up to inadvertently tear me down with a careless statement.

For now, I will do what I do best, use this as fuel.  You don't think I can run?  GOOD.  Then when I crack a 4:20:00 at IM CDA we'll talk some more. I know that's not a record-breaking time, but it would be a PR by a long shot for me and I think I'm just ready to do it.

Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened to me. Because now I'm mad.

And you wouldn't like me very much when I'm angry.

25 days and counting.

PS: Sorry for not writing last night.  I was wrapping up my column with Chris McCormack for Lava Magazine Online. It should be running tomorrow.  Stay tuned for it!

450th Blog Post

I wrote my 450th blog post last night. Surprisingly, I have little to say about it.  Today was an ordinary day of training. An hour of hilly interval running on a treadmill, followed later by an hour strength session with Shannan.  Followed by a massage tonight with David from LA Body Mechanics.

What started off as a bizarre, frustrating, confounding, taxing ritual has become routine for me.  An everyday habit.  A lifestyle.  I rarely think about it anymore, how what seems like an insane amount of training to most people has become "just another training day" for me.  And I don't mean that to sound boastful in any way.  It's just an observation.

I never thought the day would come when 2-3 hours a day of training during the week would just be normal.  But it is.  And yet in a month's time, it may come to an end.

I'm not sure I'm ready for that.  I've become wed to this lifestyle, some might say addicted.  I wake up every day with a sense of purpose and passion to take care of myself and push just a little harder to go faster, or be stronger than the day before.  Each day fuels the next.

Tomorrow morning, I'm getting up at 5 a.m. to do a three-hour brick before work.  I'm not looking forward to waking up early, but what really bums me out in a weird way is that on June 27, the day after Ironman Coeur d'Alene, I won't have any reason for the rest of the summer or fall to wake up early to train.  No races on the calendar.  Just me, my conditioning, and lots of time.

I'm worried my life is going to go from 90 miles an hour to what feels like 20. Of course, I'm definitely looking forward to spending a lot more time with Stephanie, my family and my friends.  I love that aspect of "Family and Friends First" that will become my mantra again at least through the fall. I just wonder if I'll hold out that long from resuming training.  I've adopted a lifestyle I truly love, yet it's not necessarily a balanced one.

Finding the point of harmony between two worlds may be my focus for the next 450 blog posts.  I'm sure that balance exists.  But this iron mad man hasn't found it yet.

After 450 blog posts, I'm definitely a work in progress.  But the person I was at Post 1 is far different than the person typing before you at this moment.

What would I tell my "Post 1" self if I could send him a note?

I think I would look at him, smile, and laugh just a little while shaking my head.

"Dude, you have no idea."

27 days and counting.

Eat, Rest and Be Merry

On my recovery day from IM CDA Peak Week #1, Memorial Day, I ate, rested and was generally very merry.  That's partially because I ate a lot of food.  I'm paranoid about keeping my weight up heading into IM CDA.  I'd say I'm more paranoid about that than whether I'll finish the race!  I'm not sure that's a good thing, but my pet theory is that with a little more weight (even fat) on me I may have more energy to burn on race day. And with a little more energy, I may go just a bit faster for longer. For those of you with a medical background, is that sound thinking?

We're talking about 5-8 extra pounds at this point, and 3% extra body fat from where I was at IM AZ in November.  Then I was sporting a rather unhealthy-looking 7% body fat count, and my weight plummeted to 127 pounds on race day.  I'm 5"7 so every pound lost starts to show itself.  I heard more comments after the race than ever before in my life about how gaunt I looked.

So far, I haven't heard any of those comments this season.  While I may not be quite as defined in my midsection, I've kept he weight on and my speed has remained essentially the same.  I think my strategy is working.

Still, I'm quite susceptible  to losing a lot of weight quickly. For example, after the Heartbreak 100 on Saturday, I went from 135 pounds that morning to 132 pounds the next day.  That was with at least two full meals post-race and three snacks -- two of them in the middle of the night.  Tonight, after two chicken breasts, a burger on pita bun, corn on the cob and two well-deserved pieces of birthday cake, I'm back to my goal weight of 137 pounds.

Maybe it's placebo, but because I think I look better, I'm feeling better.  I seem to be recovering very well today and I'm eager to run again tomorrow.  I don't recall ever being eager to train late last October and into November before IMAZ.

The next challenge is going to be resting adequately.  There's a Memorial Day party going on across the hall, a rooftop party.  Lots of drinking, shouting, and laughing.  Should I be the old person who shouts out the window to shut up, or the cool person who turns up the fan a bit higher for added white noise and just take a noisy night.

Maybe it's my full tummy, but I'm in a giving mood tonight.  After all, if I wasn't going to bed early, counting every calorie and analyzing my daily scale check-ins as if I were a boxer before a fight, I'd be right there partying with them.  And seeing as my Ironman is under a month away, I may want to keep that party card in check for a celebration when calories won't really matter at all.

28 days and counting.

Sledgehammer

A lot happened this weekend, this epic weekend of Ironman Coeur d'Alene training. I was trying to make some sense of it Saturday afternoon, driving home from Frazier Park (an hour north of Los Angeles) after the Heartbreak 100 century ride.  See, I was feeling pretty damn good about my performance there.  Not because I was particularly fast on the bike, but because I had enough energy left AFTER the bike to run for 50 minutes at what would have been close to a 4:30 marathon time.  That doesn't seem like much, but A) it would be my marathon PR and B) that came after climbing nearly 10,000 feet on a chilly day.  Speaking of chilly, it was so freakin' cold that I bought an extra pair of arm warmers and used them as calf warmers! I rode the course with an undershirt, a jersey, a fleece jacket, a wind breaker, leg warmers, arm warmers and arm warmers on my legs.

Back to the ride itself. What changed for me? What worked? Why? The trick for me was actually listening to my coach and walking (GASP) for a full minute after every nine minutes of running.  Going slower to ultimately go faster. It never makes sense to me but yet it works. In fact it made a huge difference, especially on a run that featured nearly 500 feet of climbing in the first two miles.

I had broken with my tradition, finally, of hammering on a bike ride only to fade on the run.  Instead, I stayed within myself, tough as it was to be passed, and conserved energy.  Still, I managed just over seven hours on a tough course -- which really wouldn't have been too much slower than what I would have managed going a more aggressively.

Which brings me back to my car ride home.  I was flipping through radio stations, done reflecting on the day and needing a mental break.  Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" came on.  Huge smile. Radio dial cranked up.  I had my new mantra:

"I've kicked the habit Shed my skin This is the new stuff I go dancing in, we go dancing in Oh won't you show for me And I will show for you Show for me, I will show for you"

If you saw a dude screaming and dancing in his car on the 118 Freeway around 6 p.m., that was me. I know it's a little corny, and I know the reasons behind the actual lyrics (I think it's about drug addiction) are very serious.  But for me, on that drive home, I felt like I had finally kicked my own stupid racing habits and was ready to take the next step forward in my tri-career.  It felt really good.  Like if I take care of myself -- if I show for you -- then my body will show for me, and my results will be better come race day.

The rest of Saturday and into Sunday morning was spent recovering from the ride and run.  While Heartbreak 100 isn't nearly as difficult as the Mulholland Challenge, it still took its toll -- most notably on my outer right knee area.  I woke up stiff and sore, and definitely not feeling like running for 2.5 hours.  I texted Gerardo to ask if I could skip the run, as much because I liked the confident feeling I had from the day prior and didn't want to be dragged back to that dark place of self-doubt following another sloggy bonk-fest.

Coach wasn't having any of that.

"Push through" was essentially the only text I got back. A man of few words, Gerardo is. But he knows which are the most important words.

So push through is what I did.  For 2.5 hours exactly in the Calabasas area.  Granted, I only climbed roughly the same elevation as yesterday's 50-minute run.  But, once again the walk a minute every mile routine paid huge dividends. My heart-rate never felt out of hand and I'm confident that if I can stay within myself on the bike ride that I can enjoy a marathon PR by a long shot.

As we all know though, Ironman can throw anything at you on race day.  So, I'll be prepared for that.  But today, following the run AND a 3,000-yard swim immediately thereafter, I felt refreshed.  Not exhausted. But happy.  Almost joyous.  I got through the weekend.  I learned about myself.  I learned that if I hydrate constantly (five full bottles on the Saturday bike, two full bottles for today's run), stay cool (literally), pop lots of Endurolytes, and stay focused and measured on the bike, I can have a GREAT day at Coeur d'Alene.

I didn't feel this way at the peak of my training last year heading into IMAZ.  Granted, we still have one more giant training week left, but if I can maintain this outlook and simply smarter training then I'll be quite confident and prepared.

A wiser athlete.  More humble.  But I'm carrying a sledgehammer filled with confidence and experience.

29 days and counting.

1 Month to Go!

Of course, you wouldn't know it's one month until IM CDA as once again my math skills are subpar.  My internal counting clock is off by a day. Let's hope I show up on time in Coeur d'Alene!

Today, Coach Gerardo shared the rest of my schedule with me leading up to the race.  This week is about 21 hours, next week is around 18 and the remainder of my training will hover in the 12-13-hour range.  So, two more big weeks and then we'll ease off the gas.  Then again, I've never quite felt my foot on the physical accelerator that much this season.  That's not to say I haven't been training hard -- I've given this everything I've got in the tank just to survive it all.  But it just goes to show the difference experience can make.  The stillness, relaxation and sense of confident purpose is having a real effect on my body, allowing me to keep weight on more easily this time around while remaining "dialed in" for race day.

If race day were tomorrow I'd welcome it with open arms.  Unlike last season towards the end of Ironman training, I don't feel like I'm cramming for a final exam with the last big training sessions.  Look, I've been on a performance plateau for around six months now.  An extra big bike ride or long swim won't make or break my Ironman, so I might as well chill out about the whole thing.

One month to go. What will I be feeling and thinking at this time in June?  Will I be celebrating finishing the race the way I intended, or will I be glad just to get to the finish line?  During my training workouts, when I have more time to let my mind wander, I think I'm going to visualize going through the entire race.  I keep reading and hearing pro athletes and coaches talk about the importance of visualization.  This Saturday, when I'm participating in the Heartbreak 100 ride in Lebec, will be a good time to start.

One month to go.  I'm savoring every moment.  Every memory.  Absorbing every detail of every workout I can.  These are likely the last real days of having the freedom to train like this for many years to come.  Sure, I'll do Olympic triathlons and 70.3 races, but maybe not an Ironman.  I've said that before.  So even the hard workouts are becoming more enjoyable.  Just for the sheer joy of having the free time to do them.  For doing something for myself.

One month to go.

31 days and counting.

What is Our Formula?

Today at work, I was analyzing what makes for an iconic enemy in video games?  Is it a signature trait? If so, what kind?  Does the enemy have to be conversation-worthy?  I think so.  How does perceived danger or threat play a role?  There's probably a direct ratio to the threat level and the iconic nature of that enemy. Then, I began to wonder if WE have a formula?  What makes us iconic as triathletes?  What makes us Ironmen and Ironwomen?  For starters, we'd have to include willpower.  Without willpower, there's no way any of us would be able to handle the training, and the sacrifices that come along with it.  Next, I'd say athleticism.  While we may not be the second coming of LeBron, Carl Lewis or Michael Phelps, we each exhibit athletic qualities that enable us to swim, bike and run for long distances.  We couldn't complete a triathlon without being athletic even at the most base levels.  Finally, I'd assert that being an Ironman or Ironwoman requires a sense of fearlessness.  We are unafraid to pursue our dreams.  We are unafraid of failure, though it may keep us all up at night or force us to question our sanity in the moments before a race starts.  Yet, despite that fear, we splash into the water with hundreds -- sometimes thousands -- of strangers.  Knowing that we will be kicked, grabbed, clawed and poked mercilessly for what feels like an eternity.  Fearlessness leads to signing up for a second Ironman event even before the first one is completed.  Or is that stupidity.  No, it's fearlessness.  I think.

But what do you think?  If someone were to break you down as a triathlete and try to isolate the essential qualities that make you a triathlete, what would those qualities be?  For now, I'll start the discussion off with the following theorem -- we'll call it Schneider's Law:  M-dot = W + A + F x 2.4 + 112 + 26.2.

What's your Law?

32 days and counting.