All Mixed Up

The past few days were supposed to be chill.  I arrived early, intent to relax, acclimate at my own pace, and enjoy the moment.

Truth is, I don't know how or why the time has passed by so fast.  I'm practically exhausted.  I took a two-hour nap today and it wasn't enough. I haven't trained that much either -- swam on Wednesday and a light bike ride.  Swam and ran for a combined total of 40 minutes yesterday.  Biked easy for an hour today and ran a half-mile after.  But it's everything in between that can sap your energy.  Registration.  Bike Transport pick-up.  Expo.  Shopping.

Combine that with every athlete looking like a cover model for Lava Magazine, and suddenly my nerves have kicked in.  It's not whether I belong here -- I know I most certainly do.  It's more will I embarrass myself compared to these beautiful specimens all wearing the best compression gear and sporting the hottest bikes?  Everyone just looks so damn fast!  Have I trained enough?  Will those niggling injuries in my calf and Achilles hold up?  Am I eating enough?  Am I eating right?  Will the cold water of Coeur d'Alene Lake devour me?

Questions, questions, questions.

And for answers, all I have is the knowledge I've been through this before.  I've been through rain.  I've overcome wind.  Cramps.  Illness.  GI issues.  Pain.

I can do this.

It's just that sometimes, we're all human.  Especially when we're not competing for a Kona slot and everyone around us seems like they are.  It can eat at your confidence just a bit.  That's where I'm at right now.  Perhaps it's the danger of hanging out with the team near the race site.  Everything is so visible.  There's no escaping it.  The M-Dot is everywhere.  Almost to the point where I'm sick of seeing it.

So how am I coping?  Believe it or not, I'm reading my old blog posts. I'm seeing the same nerves two days before the race from last year.  Though I will admit that the excitement level going through this the second time is far less.  I'm nowhere near as giddy.  I wouldn't say I'm grim either, just filled with a strange mixed-up feeling that's part anxiety, part exhaustion, and part pride.

It's time to start focusing more on the pride part.  I have to remember all the solo workouts I've done this year.  How this year has been harder than last year due to a tougher work-life schedule.  But yet I'm still here.  And ready.  I know I'm ready.

I'm especially ready on the mental side, despite my confessions above.  See, my second Ironman has a huge advantage over the first -- Coeur d'Alene is absolutely beautiful!  We drove the course today and every mile is filled with little postcard memories that will make this the most beautiful place I've ever ridden (ahead of Malibu in Pacific Coast Highway).  And the run course is the most beautiful I've ever encountered too.

How is this an advantage?  Last year, I slogged -- and I mean SLOGGED -- through session after session in desolate, smelly, windy, barren Fillmore.  And I raced in windy, desolate, plain-looking Tempe and the surrounding areas.  I didn't realize how numb my mind had become to the pleasure of being on a bike ride or a run. Here, in gorgeous Idaho, I realize how well Ironman Arizona prepared me for IM CDA.

In Arizona, there's nothing to distract you from pain and suffering -- unless you count the In N' Out burger on the run course!

So no matter what happens beginning 7 a.m. on Sunday, I know this much: I will be at the starting line.  Next to the pretty people and tbe frigid water and pretty scenery.  And I will be ready to race.  I will be nervous.  Everyone around me will be nervous.  But, thanks to Chrissie Wellington, Sam Warriner, Andy Potts, Chris McCormack, Mirinda Carfrae and several others, I've learned a lot about how to meet the race head-on. With my head screwed on straight.  Acknowledging and respecting what's in front of me but never fearing it.  Storing positive memories in my memory banks, accessing them the way Macca does, like computer file folders.  I will call on several folders for 12 hours.

One of those folders is you, Mr. and Ms. Reader.  I know you're out there.  I know you're cheering for me too.  I won't let you down.  I'm racing for all of us -- Kona qualifiers or folks like me just happy to call ourselves Ironmen and Ironwomen.  We are age-groupers, but we are not average in any way.  We are IRONMEN and IRONWOMEN.

That is what we are.  That is what we're made of.  And that is what I'm about to become again on Sunday.

2 days and counting.

Bags are Packed

So much for my detailed plan about my race week. I'm leaving tomorrow, not Thursday, for Coeur d'Alene!  I couldn't resist the temptation from my teammates to join them a day early for some fun and getting an early preview of the course.  So, $155 later and I'm on a plane tomorrow at 8 a.m. instead of on Thursday at 6 a.m.

That decision led me to a whirlwind of a day.  Highlights included visiting my local bike shop for one more cram session on flat tire fixing, since I haven't had to deal with one since last year really.  I'm getting better, but the mechanics at Santa Monica Mountain Cyclery have little to worry about in terms of job security.  Johnny, the shop's lead mechanic, taught me how to quickly drop the back wheel in and out by turning the bike upside down.  Unfortunately, this approach won't work with the horizontal stays on my tri-bike, but I remembered the motions and process so I think I'll be fine.  Just needed to re-tool the muscle memory.

Tonight, after one final swim at the local pool (VNSO is back open!), I packed late into the evening.  However, this packing session was far quicker and less stressful than last year.  I remember laying EVERYTHING out on the floor of my office den, double-checking my Fortius travel checklist twice, and then packing into bags.  This time, I really knew what to bring, and NOT to overpack.  I know I'll be buying lots of merchandise!  So, packing probably took half as long, was far more relaxed, and ya know what?  If I forgot something I'll buy it at the Ironman Store.

Because I'll be there a day early!

Next post will be from Coeur d'Alene!

Good night all.

5 days and counting.

Ironman 1 vs Ironman 2

There's much to reflect upon in the final few days of Ironman Number 2.  Today, I think I'm going to write about the differences between training for my first and my second Ironman. -- During my first Ironman, I trained exactly to specifications prescribed by my coach.  During my second Ironman, I shaved roughly 10-15 minutes off many or even most workouts to preserve energy overall.  I also trained less in general due to injury and some illness.  In fact, I completed merely 76% of my workouts this time, compared to 90% for my first Ironman.

-- During my first Ironman, I obsessed over my diet.  I avoided red meat.  I essentially counted calories.  In so doing, and through the very aspect of obsessing over food, I raced at 127 pounds -- my lightest weight since college.  This time around, I ate what I wanted, when I wanted (within reason).  I'm eight pounds heavier, look better and think I'll perform better with some extra fat to burn!  (At least I keep telling myself that.)

-- During my first Ironman, I stressed about every detail of the race -- yet didn't prepare a mental plan going into it.  I freaked out all the time, pretty much about everything you can freak out over.  In case you don't believe me, just pick a post from mid-2010 and read away!  This year, while I've certainly had my doubts and moments, I'm a lot more relaxed.  What will be will be.  However, I DID write a mental race strategy plan, as I noted in last night's post.  So, perhaps the stress level is the same, but I'm managing it differently.

-- During my first Ironman, I stayed awake at night thinking about crossing the finish line, but worse yet, what would happen if I didn't cross the finish line!  This time, I'm not worried at all.  Even if I do DNF, I'm still an Ironman. It's under my belt already.  However, I've prepared less for bike mechanical problems -- which has me concerned.

-- During my first Ironman, every workout was a challenge in its own way, simply because it was all new.   This meant I was whiny, grumpy and exhausted.  Oftentimes I'd complain to my coach or blog about my training misery. This time, I simply kept my head down, knew what to expect and did the work. As a result, mentally I've been much fresher overall.  GI Joe was wrong, "knowing" is way more than half the battle.

I think, in the end, that's the best thing I can say about training for the second Ironman compared to the first: You know what you're getting yourself into.  It's immeasurably easier and more comforting as a result.  I don't know how it will play out on race day, but getting to this day was nowhere near as stressful as my first Ironman.

The moral, of course, is this: Once you complete your first Ironman, don't make it your last! There's more magic around the next corner.  And it will get a little easier.

6 days and counting.

Dialing In...FINALLY

First things first, I've calmed back down and am back to my normal, relaxed self.  Sorry for the freak out the past couple days. Work, life, wedding, taper all collided.  Steph and I had a great talk about how I can take control of my stress and figure out how to minimize it.  Simply focusing on the fact that I had control over my mood greatly helped.  I definitely will do that more in the future.

Today has been the first relaxing day I've had in the past couple weeks.  No big errands.  No big drives.  No huge training days.  No wedding stress.  That allowed me to sleep nine whole hours.  I woke up refreshed, and with enough time to participate in my first yoga class in several months.  Boy, am I rusty!  And creaky for that matter.  However, I willingly sacrificed flexibility for added power and weight.  I believe this was the best decision I could make given my limited training schedule, though it's clear I've taken a step back with my flexibility compared to last year.  As my family likes to say though, "with one tush you can't dance at everyone's ball."

This afternoon, I'm taking time to write a couple important documents that I recommend you do too.  First is a mental race strategy document.  I included things like my goals overall, but specifically how I want to feel at every stage of the race.  I'm really trying to put into practice what I've learned the past six months from the leading pros in the sport.  In other words, I'm beginning to dial in to the race in a relaxed, focused manner.

My second doc is just a checklist of what I plan to pack.  Coach Gerardo gave us a detailed sheet but it's so huge that I wanted something more specific to me.  So, I'll cross-reference the two but at least now I have a running start.

Overall, my goal for the next week (outside of a hectic work day tomorrow) is to stay calm, and have a plan for every day of the week in terms of race preparation.  Here's mine so far:

Monday: Final day of work and tying loose project ends together.

Tuesday: Sleep in as late as possible.  Light training, packing, including pre-packing transition bags. Learn how to use new Kindle! Add more salt in diet.

Wednesday: Sleep in as late as possible. Add more salt in diet.  Begin carb-loading.  RELAX!!! No work. No stress.

Thursday: Travel!  Pick up bike.  Settle at hotel.  Meet teammates.

Friday: Bike/Run/drive course.  Begin to taper off carbs.  Hang out with team.  CHILL.

Saturday: Swim course.  Meet Steph when she arrives. Team lunch and dinner.  Early bed time.

Sunday: KICK ASS!  RACE SMART!  TAKE NAMES!

I am rejuvenated. I am ready for the week ahead.  I am ready to run MY race.  I am ready to have a great time.

People, it's go time.  Probably my last full-distance Ironman.  I'm going to soak it all in.

Now that my head is screwed back on straight.

7 days and counting.

Cranky Taper

Last year before IMAZ, I remember Coach Gerardo warning me about tapering.  I'd be irritable.  Short-tempered.  Tired.  Moody. Honestly, it never happened. I was so excited to participate in my first Ironman after a year of training that I could hardly wait.  I knew I belonged with the other competitors, I was excited to be in Tempe, and I was flat out ready to rock.

For my second Ironman, it's a little different.  I'm downright nutty right now.

Short-tempered? Check.  Steph and I have been snapping at each other for days.

Stressed?  Check.  Wedding planning is building to a crescendo.  Work is busy with two game titles close to ship and a third just getting off the ground.

Tired? Check.  I'm having a hard time getting out of bed in the mornings.  Today, I woke up with Steph at 6:30 a.m., hung out for a bit, tried to rally to get on my trainer and instead slept until 8:45.  It's 9:40 p.m. now and I'll probably go right to bed after this post.

What's wrong with me?

Note to all engaged people out there...or engaged to be engaged people out there... NEVER do an Ironman within three months of your wedding.  There are so many deadlines to contend with -- budgets, seating charts, floral arrangements, event planning, venue contracts, invitations and others I'm missing -- that it's impossible to focus on the race at hand.  Not to mention work.  At this point, I'm honestly thinking of changing my flight to Wednesday and getting the hell out of LA a day early, costs be damned.  I need space and time to focus on this race!

I hope everyone else's taper is going well, for those of you fellow IMCDA'ers reading out there in space.  As for everyone else, apologies in advance if I snip at you unintentionally.  It's nothing personal.

It's just an Ironman taper.

9 days and counting.

Tired Taper

I'm not quite sure why, but I'm feeling pretty tired the past few days even though I'm supposed to be tapering. It's probably still related to the cumulative fatigue of E3 and the long wedding weekend.  But it's Wednesday...shouldn't this be done by now? My fatigue may be combined with a couple fairly intense training sessions the past couple days. Last night, before taking Stephanie's wounded car into my dad's repair shop in Simi Valley, I swam 3,000 yards.  Part of that session included a 2,000 time trial at race pace (35 minutes YES!).  This morning, I cycled on my trainer for an hour, with 18 minutes of that session being at time trial race pace.  I followed that effort with a 40-minute tempo run, which was surprising to me in that I figured with essentially 10 days to go before IMCDA I'd be hanging firmly in heart rate zones 1-2.

Apparently not.

The challenge with this approach is that if I'm going on a tempo run, I want to see how fast I can complete it.  Maybe it's a combination of my extra stored up energy or sheer dumb competitiveness.  What I really think the issue is that I'm afraid of getting slower heading into the big race.  Based on Joe Friel's blogs, I know this is partially true -- tapering is about gaining energy and rest at the expense of some fitness. But I get paranoid about losing too much fitness to where it may affect me.  I know this is rubbish, but yet I run hard anyways.  Today, two of my four miles were below an 8-minute mile pace, which I won't need at all for Ironman.  My pace is firmly in the 9-minute category, not including the walk-run strategy I plan to employ.

Anyway, after this morning's brick, I drove to Santa Barbara with Stephanie for our wedding tasting. The food was outstanding and I'm very excited about serving it to our guests.  I think they'll be pleasantly surprised -- this won't be a "rubber chicken dinner" that's for sure!

I just got home and here we are.  After typing all this out, I think it's easy to see why I'm feeling rather exhausted.  I need some more rest.  I'm not sure when I'm going to get it before next Tuesday, when I take off work for the rest of the week in preparation for the big event.

I really hope this doesn't catch up to me when it counts the most.

11 days and counting.

Whirlwind Week

A week of trade shows, bricks in unfamiliar territory and a wedding has finally drawn to a merciful close. I'm simply in awe of the parents who find time to train for an Ironman after a week like this one.  On the go from dawn to well into the night, seven nights in a row.  Usually, I have some measure of a balanced life -- balanced by my standards.  This week wasn't one of those times.  But I'm hopeful to begin a true taper phase this week.

I've neglected to mention one part of my week, which is how it ended. I just returned from my Fortius team Ironman Coeur d'Alene send-off party at Christina's home.  She wasn't kidding when she said she had enough food for an army and drinks for an army and a half!  The entire team joked around light heartedly, celebrating several podiums from weekend races and what seemed to be the true onset of summer.

One thing one didn't feel at the party was a sense of nervousness.  I was pleasantly surprised.  My fellow IMCDA teammates all were frolicking in the pool and totally relaxed.  Last November, I remember being a ball of nervous energy -- of course, I was surprised to have such a shocking send-off (thanks Steph!).  As I explained to my buddy Bob, whom raced IMAZ with me, this time just feels different.  I know the race is in two weeks, but right now it feels like it's two months away.

Finally, my quick weekend wrap wouldn't be complete without mentioning the hospitality of some new friends I met while cycling in Riverside this past Saturday.  I showed up in a parking lot at 7:30 a.m. hoping for a shop ride, but nobody was out.  Maybe I had missed them?  Instead, I found a man preparing to clip in on his own, so I asked him if I could tag along.  He welcomed me in, having just moved here from Kansas City himself.  We met up with some of his new friends, and our own shop ride was born.  We burned around town for a sometimes meandering, sometimes challenging 40-mile ride.  Honestly, I think the first 20 minutes they tried to drop me just to see if I could hang.  Once, I demonstrated I wasn't going anywhere, the mood changed, the riders became more talkative and we bonded.

Here's a look at the bike route, along with a five-mile run I tacked on at the end:

There's something special to me about being able to take a bike anywhere and knowing you can hang onto the group ride (for the most part). It's a sense of community blending with personal confidence.  While it may not have been the best thing for my taper training, it still was a confidence boost nonetheless.

Now, after a week of activities and stress, I'm going to pack it in and enjoy some well-deserved quiet time.  Lights out.

14 days and counting!

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!