Times Change

10 years ago tonight, I was in San Francisco, partying on the beach all night and into the next day. It was among the wildest of nights.

Tonight, 10 years later, I'm at my parents' home. Just them, some family friends, and me. It is among the mildest of nights.

Yet I'm content. It's an interesting measuring stick of where I've been the past decade. Whether it's perspective, experience, wisdom and even some financial security, I've definitely gained a lot. And whether it's the loss of some good friends (Brian and Jason immediately come to mind), a girlfriend (OK, a few) a family member (grandpa), some naivete or innocence, I've definitely lost, too.

I cycled in the wind for a couple hours today with Frank (before I dropped a refrigerator on him helping him move, but that's another story for another time), and this is what I thought about.

What did I learn this past decade? How would I categorize the last 10 years of my life?

After much introspection, I think years 25-35 can be categorized as the decade where I asserted my independence. I found my own voice. I became my own person. I accepted myself for me.

It has been a hard road to find that voice and become this person. I haven't always liked what I've seen. And changing can be a real bitch. But the journey sure as hell has been worth it.

I wonder what the next 10 years will bring? Will triathlons continue to be a centerpiece in my life or a fad, like kart racing, martial arts and tennis? Will I finally settle down with the person I'm supposed to marry? Will I marry at all? Raise a family? Travel the world?

I have no idea.

What I do know is that for the next 11 months, I will train for Ironman Arizona. I will spend an inordinate amount of time in the pool, running on trails, and cycling all over the Southland. And since most of that time will be spent without iPods and much conversation, I will have plenty of time to think. To grow. To learn. To comprehend. To appreciate.

Right now, I need that.

So, I enter 2010 with many more questions than answers.

But I'm excited to see what happens next. What's around the corner. What the next lap will bring. What's on the other side of the hill.

328 days and counting.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Today between training sessions (swim and run in the misty rain), I went to the Annenberg Space for Photography in Century City for an exhibit of sports photography (which I highly recommend, btw). Two of the greatest sports photographers of our time had their works on display, Walter Iooss and Neil Leifer. You've seen their work. Ali standing over Liston? Leifer. Jordan's signature free-throw line dunk in the '88 Slam Dunk Contest? Iooss. And the list goes on and on.

As I walked past the gallery of the most famous and memorable sports images of the past 50 years, I couldn't help but wonder what would the image look like when I cross the finish line at the Ironman this coming November. Would I have a look of exuberance like Sandy Koufax when he won the final game of the 1963 World Series against the Yankees? Would I look defeated, like one of the grass-stained, mud-soaked NFL players from the 1960s? Would there be a steely look of focus on my face like Jackie Joyner-Kersee from the 1992 Olympics?

Hopefully we won't see a look of tortured anguish like Mary Decker from the 1984 Olympics.

Then, after thinking about all that, I realized something as I walked back to my car. I was thinking when i finish the Ironman. Not if.

329 days and counting.

Ruuuudy...Ruuuudy...Ruuuudy

I fell in love just a little bit more with my favorite movie today.

I was on the trainer for an hour and to kill the time, I called up my DVR list of recorded programs and saw an old friend in the queue.

Rudy.

Perfect.

It was a poignant reminder of a message I will need to keep in my head every day through November 21, 2010: Never give up.

Despite the intensity of the trainer session, highlighted by 30 minutes of HR zone 3 riding in a bigger gear than usual, time flew by. Rudy always gets to me. Yep, I always get weepy at two parts: First, when Rudy shows his dad the acceptance letter to Notre Dame, and second, when Rudy gets knocked on his ass in the Irish football team tryout and then barks at the coaches to give him another shot to bust through the defenders. And does it. Bloodied and battered. But undaunted. Guts and grit personified.

When watching Rudy, I am him, and he is me (bonus points here for the Beatles song and follow-up lyrics). I've had several Rudy-esque experiences over my life, but the most vivid (and closest to the movie) was the one that occurred when I was a member of my ninth grade basketball team. I was cut two years in a row prior on the seventh and eighth grade squads, made the frosh team as the final roster spot but sat on the bench most of the year. However, a small fan club demanding my playing time increase turned into a big fan club, my coach relented a bit, I got more playing time, and bedlam ensued.

To this day, the memories of ninth grade basketball are among the happiest of my life.

The lessons learned from that year are every bit as valuable.

Work hard. Work late. Work early. Put in the time. Dream a little. Enjoy the moment.

Never, ever give up.

Training for the Ironman has been much more than I expected. The commitment, the intensity, the expenses... it's overwhelming. But, this blog (along with the friendships I've made via Valley Coach and the LA Tri Club) has helped me organize my thoughts, keep them in check, learn some perspective, and stay focused on the day-to-day work that goes into becoming an Ironman.

And today, my favorite movie reminded me the most important message of all.

330 days and counting.

Musical Laps

For Hanukkah, I got a waterproof iPod holder and earbuds for the pool.

I used them for the first time today during my afternoon swim. For five minutes.

Let me tell you about about two H20 Audio products, the Amphibx iPod holder and Surge earbuds. First, the Amphibx armband. It wraps around your arm like a kid's floaty. It's bulky and awkward. The more common-sense way to wear it would be on your back, so it doesn't affect your balance with each stroke. But wearing the holder on your back requires an extension wrap. For more money.

Of course. Like all other things in this sport!

Then, you've got the wired earbuds. These are great, when they're not falling out of your ears. So, then you place them inside your swim cap, where they rub. Awesome. And on top of that, the wires can get a little jumbled around your neck or arms during strokes. Brilliant!

Who did the engineering for this product? Did they ever swim a lap in their life?

Folks, there's probably a reason why most people in the pool don't listen to music. Guess I'm learning that the hard way. I'll try it again on the next swim, but so far, definitely two "empty water bottles" for me on the H20 Audio products. Swim with them at your own risk.

Unfortunately, the swim itself was not so hot either. Forty-five minutes of "easy" laps and cadence work felt harder than expected. I was off my normal pace, feeling the effects from soreness over the weekend and a poor night's sleep. Coach Gerardo took the weight training off the schedule for today, which was much appreciated. My fuel tank is low at the moment. I'll try to fit in some gentle yoga later today or tonight to help further revitalize.

Just no music.

331 days and counting.

Quick Post

It's late. I'm sore. I'm tired.

Long day of training today. It started with a frigid 50-mile Valley Coach group ride from Calabasas to Newbury Park and back. It was so cold that I had to stop at a convenience store to pick up a pair of mittens because I couldn't feel my fingers for the first 15 minutes of the ride! I didn't even care they were ladies mittens so long as they were warm. Which they were. The ride featured some decent climbs, and despite my lower heart-rate zone re-calibrations I was able to lead the pack for most of the major ones. Of course, I'm suffering the consequences as we speak, laid up in bed hardly able to move. My quads are shredded. But I loved every minute of it...for one day, I earned the coveted metaphorical polka-dot jersey on my team.

Following the ride (and a quick shower), I high-tailed it over to Black Dog Yoga for a basic flow session. While the stretching helped, the quads and abs work pushed me over the edge. The rest of the day was spent trying to will my body to finish it without keeling over on the spot. Definitely will feel the weekend workouts for the next couple days.

Fortunately, tomorrow is a recovery day, with weights and a light swim being the only activities of the day. I can handle that.

Wish I had more to offer. I'm just too pooped to think of anything clever.

332 days and counting.

Master of My Fate?

I watched Invictus today, in between training sessions. (More on that below.)

Invictus is an average movie but I'd still call it a must-see. Not because of the acting or the story, but because of the message.

And when I say message, I really mean one line of one poem. The poem that bears the movie's name. The line is from Mandela's favorite poem, Invictus. The quote: "Master of my fate... captain of my soul."

That line is deeply inspirational, but I wonder if it's truly attainable.

Everyone wants to captain a piece of your soul, or thinks they have a right to own it. Your family. Your friends. Your co-workers. Your boss. The tax man. And more.

But do they? Who's in charge, really? Whose ship is it? Whose fate?

Are you the captain of your soul or master of your fate? Have you always been? If so, I salute you, because that is hard work. I've had moments in my life where I've exerted that control, including Ironman training. But each of these watershed moments for me came or is coming at a great cost. Even when you win, you lose. Either in relationships, lost time, or letting down someone's expectations.

Yet I don't regret any of it. Not in my Ironman training. Not in other aspects of my life. My only real regret is not being a more steadfast captain of my soul more often.

***

Today's Valley Coach group training kicked my ass. Plain and simple. It started with a 13-mile Boney Mountain trail run (pictured) in Pt. Mugu State Park near Newbury Park. If you're looking for a challenging trail run, this is it. In fact, if you like running hills, this is really it. But the scenery is stunning and ranks high on my list of sights to see in my ever-growing list of "Hidden Awesome in SoCal."

Complicating matters were the new heart rate zones Coach Gerardo re-arranged for me. I wasn't sure how they'd affect my training, but in short, they've slowed me down. Apparently, I was working too hard on my Griffith Park run last week, and this did the trick in keeping me in check. Though the hills made that more difficult and forced me to walk more than I'm used to or comfortable doing. But this is how base training works, so I played along.

Fortunately, no soreness to report during the run. Not as fortunate following the run, and my subsequent swim after the movie (1,450 yards in a shortened 35-minute workout as the pool was closing for the night). I'm sprawled out on the couch writing this, with hardly any energy left to even get up. I'm totally cooked.

Too bad though, because tomorrow calls for a 50-mile group ride and an hour of yoga after.

Master of my fate? Captain of my ship?

While I may be the master, Ironman is the captain. No doubt about that.

333 days and counting.

My X-Mas Tale

Well, my Christmas tale is pretty straightforward. No workout? No problem!

I slept in until 9. Apparently, Trudy and Bam-Bam were feeling benevolent.

I cooked myself breakfast. Yep, I really did. Three eggs and turkey bacon. Ahhh, yeah.

I jumped into Borderlands on Xbox 360. My thoughts? So far, it feels a little like Wild Arms on PlayStation 2 but with much cooler weapons. Art style is kinda cool too with the cel-shading. One might say Borderlands is a cross between Ratchet & Clank (upgradeable outrageous weapons) and Wild Arms (desolate pseudo-steam punk, pseudo-western), if there ever was such a thing. So far, I'm a level 11 hunter. I'm probably going to move onto another game (most likely Halo: ODST at this point) but can't quite put the controller down on Borderlands. I'm a little surprised by that since I'm not a huge RPG guy. But since this is cleverly called an RPS (my initials, and a "role-playing shooter"), I'm a little more patient. Plus, this is probably the most accessible RPG experience I've played in a while. Kudos for that.

After some extra stretching and a soothing hot tub bath, I plopped down to watch the Lakers pathetic performance against the Cavs. Forget the (horrible) referees for a moment, and consider how bad the Lakers' bench looked. Totally outclassed. It's definitely been a concern of mine all season (paging Sasha Vujacic, Josh Powell, etc. ...). And, I think what the Cavs did by playing Ilgauskus and O'Neal at the same time against the Lakers' big lineup was very smart. It took the Lakers out of their game. Something they're not used to seeing, and for one game, that Shaq signing looks like it may pay dividends. IF the Cavs come out of the East. That's a big if.

(By the way, speaking of LeBron and Kobe, have y'all seen those Nike "Most Valuable Puppets" ads? I gotta say, those are among the catchiest and coolest spots I've seen in a long time. They've outdone themselves compared to the Kobe-LeBron spots during last season's playoffs. And the NBA spots with the "defense" hip-hop remixes are strong too. No other sports league is marketed as well as the NBA, and the League has raised the bar further for the likes of sports brand juggernauts like Gatorade and Adidas.)

All in all, today has been a solid day. I haven't left the house (for a change), and I'm refreshed for another week of training, which starts tomorrow with a trail run in Pt. Mugu State Park, Boney Mountain Wilderness. I'm also to swim for an hour after the 13-mile trail course, which will have to occur after I visit with my long-time friend Jeff. We're going to see Invictus. I hope Morgan Freeman doesn't mail in another performance. He's been quite average lately, IMO.

Well, gotta go. The couch is calling to me again.

334 days and counting.

PS: If you haven't already, this LA Times column about a local triathlete couple whose husband has battled back from a coma is inspirational and heartwarming. I definitely recommend taking a few minutes to read it.

A Christmas Test

For most normal folks, Christmas time means relaxing and celebrating with friends and family.

Guess this is another reason I'm not exactly what you'd call normal.

Today marked the four-week mark of my training with Valley Coach, which means it's a test week to re-calibrate heart rate zones. I checked off running and swimming earlier, so today was about the bike. My favorite.

The assignment was to work my heart-rate up to 153 bpm and then maintain a 90-100 pedal stroke per minute cadence for 20 minutes. Distance, cadence, heart-rate and average speed would all factor into the equation. Of course, the equation became muddied since my ever-finicky speedometer wasn't working. This required using some dreaded (and dreadful) math and my car's odometer to figure out my average speed. I wasn't thrilled with the result, not because of my performance but precisely the opposite...I could've sworn I was moving faster! At least the average 154 bpm was encouraging.

Once I posted my results, Coach Gerardo changed my HR settings ever so slightly lower. I'm curious to see how much of a difference this makes in my training. He reassured me that this isn't a "bad or a good thing", it's more of a statement on where I'm at fitness-wise. I suppose only the next four weeks will tell if I'm making real progress. It's too soon to say right now. With all this training, I really hope so. I'm not quite sure what I'd do if I didn't see any progress for all this time, training and money invested.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

The highlight of the morning was once again discovering a new part of SoCal. This time, I explored the nature trails at the Sepulveda Dam in Balboa Park. This was part of a very slow and leisurely 45-minute jog prior to the cycling test. I saw all sorts of birds throughout the run, usually nestled together on small man-made islands on the lake. It almost looked like they, too, were celebrating the holidays in their own quiet way. Peaceful. Calm. Happy. Graceful.

Tomorrow I have the day off from training. I'm not sure how I'll spend the holiday just yet. But there are five NBA games on (including Lakers-Cavs) TV so I'll start there. I also bought groceries to cook myself breakfast, which I haven't done in a long time.

To the people who actually read this blog (and have read this far), I hope you have a terrific holiday. I hope it's filled with family, happiness and harmony. My personal gift will be a day off from training!

335 days and counting.

Merry Christmas to all.

Yoga-ta Be Kiddin' Me!

Until this point of training with Valley Coach, I thought my hardest workout would be in the pool, trails or on the road cycling. Maybe even the weight room.

How wrong I was.

After a fairly decent swim test this morning (20:50 for 1,000 yards) at 8 in 53-degree Calabasas, I got a reprieve. Or so I thought. All I had to do was an hour of strength training or yoga. No running or trainer exercises? Noooo prob!

Several months ago, my co-worker Brian and his wife Jenny bought me a gift certificate for two weeks of unlimited yoga at Black Dog Yoga in Sherman Oaks. (BTW, in the spirit of my recent restaurant and movie reviews, two full water bottles for Black Dog. Spacious facility, warm, experienced staff, affordable classes and many of them.) I purposely saved the certificate for my holiday break, when I'd be most able to take advantage of truly "unlimited" classes. My first session was today, a "basic flow" class for all levels. Noobs included.

I've had a fair amount of yoga experience over the years, be it Hatha or Ashtonga. We had yoga class at my current job a few years ago, which I practiced for several months. I've also taken individual classes over the past couple years, so my practice ranks somewhere between "novice" and "novice-plus."

Today it ranked as "kick my ass." The session lasted 90 minutes but at points it felt like three days. My body is getting pretty darn hard from all the training, but where I'm gaining in strength and tone I'm losing in flexibility and suppleness. I needed the blocks more than I can remember in the past, and even a rolled blanket for some poses. And pigeon pose? I'll be feeling that one for a few days. Surprisingly, I felt weak.

Despite being annoyed at my "performance", I accepted it as the aspiring enlightened yoga practitioner I'm trying to become. I'm looking forward to more in the coming days (next class on Christmas!) and months.

Overall, returning to yoga was like meeting an old friend you haven't seen in a long time. Everything seems the same, except you feel a little stiffer, slower and more awkward than you'd like. There's an adjustment period. It's not quite like riding a bike, metaphorically speaking. But you're still damn glad to see that friend again. And Shavasana was about the only thing to calm my jumpy mind today. Five minutes of clarity.

Who would have thought that my toughest workout would be the one I figured would be the easiest? And perhaps the most rewarding?

336 days and counting.

Namaste.

The Wind & Avatar Blew Me Away

I woke up in Los Angeles this morning but could have sworn it was Chicago.

The wind swirled and gusted well before 8 this morning, and I knew it would be a chilly morning of training. Fortunately, the first 45 minutes were spent on my trainer indoors watching Sportscenter (how 'bout that Arizona hoops buzzer-beater!?) and The Dan Patrick Show. Then, since I'm on vacation, I was able to complete both workouts back-to-back. A rare mid-week brick.

My second workout was a time trial run to determine my tempo pace for the next four weeks. The mission: run two miles as close as possible to baseline zone 3 heart rate (152) and record the time. The challenge: a nasty head-wind that raised my bpm three-four beats each time I ran against the wind on the park track near where I live. The gusts made it a little tougher to accurately gauge the test. Still, I think I did pretty well, turning in a decent 17:44 for two miles, which would still put me under a four-hour marathon pace. Of course, the goal is to drop down closer to a 3:40 marathon, so I have lots of work to do.

All that said, the workouts were overshadowed by a far more impactful experience: Avatar. In IMAX 3D. To borrow one of my favorite geek phrases, "OMGWTFBBQPWN3D!"

Translation: "Wow, that movie sure was spectacular. I found it astoundingly enjoyable."

For me, Avatar will now occupy the rarest of spaces: it captured my imagination and sense of wonder on the same level as when I first saw the original Star Wars as a kid in the late

'70s. No other original universe movie (not taken from a book) that I can recall since Episode 4 immersed me into an alien world better or more convincingly. Yes, I attribute a lot of that to watching the movie in IMAX 3D, which is how director James Cameron told my co-worker and friend James Stevenson at Comic-Con that Avatar must be experienced. I'm glad I complied. I've never seen a movie quite as visually stunning. I also thought the use of 3D was smoothly integrated throughout and not incorporated as a cheap gimmick. Perhaps most surprising though, I truly found myself caring for the characters and the native culture on Pandora. Their plight felt real, and I found myself comparing Avatar to Dances with Wolves meets Braveheart... in space. (Jake Sully didn't have to paint himself blue like William Wallace since he already was that color.)

If you have yet to see Avatar, even if you're not a huge sci-fi fan, you must find time. And if you can, treat yourself to watching it in IMAX 3D. Overall, Avatar raised the bar for a movie-going experience, almost the same way Uncharted 2 did with videogames spectacle.

(When I started this blog, I didn't anticipate writing restaurant or movie reviews. But I'm kinda rollin' with it at the moment. Thanks for indulging me.)

337 days and counting.

Today Was a Good Day...

You know that Ice Cube rap tune where he talks about his "good day?" Momma cooked a breakfast with no hog and all that kind of stuff?

Today has not been the ideal good day, but it's been a much-needed "good day."

The only thing on my agenda today was a Valley Coach group swim at the Calabasas tennis and swim club. And since that swim was called for 8:30 a.m., I got to sleep in a little bit. And since there was no freeway traffic (another rarity), I arrived on time.

The swim was tough, but manageable, which I sense is a calculated scheme from Coach Gerardo. I completed my first set of interval training where the laps went from 100 to 400 yards and then back down to 100 yards, with the second set of intervals needing to be faster than the first. I wasn't quite able to go faster, but I hit the same 100 time on my closing set as my opening (two minutes) to feel good that I can shave time in the future.

Following the swim, I decided to visit my one of my favorite breakfast spots in all of Southern California: Joseph's Deli off Ventura Blvd. and Tampa. I've been going there with my family for as long as I can remember, so much so that I firmly recall the man who runs the deli today was working in the kitchen as a clean-up kid at least 20 years ago. After burning a ton of calories, nothing sounded (and tasted) better than Joseph's salami and eggs, with potatoes and an onion bagel. Unlike yesterday botched breakfast at Paty's, Joseph's got everything right the first time, and for $4 less too. Ahhhh, the little things.

From there, it was off to visit my grandmother at the Jewish Home for the Aging, just down the street. Once again, I had to fix the remote control so she could read the closed-captioning on the screen. Had I not gone, she would have just been staring at a blank TV screen all day. It's infuriating and frustrating that if someone in my family doesn't check on her, she may get a bit neglected. (C'mon people, go the extra mile!) But, my grandma was happy to see me and even able to communicate a little, which went a long way with me. I will remember that moment.

Finally, the rest of the day has been spent in the rarest of locations for me...the couch! I never have free-time. Time to just escape for a while and veg out. Time to not worry about working out, or work, or life, or a million other things that occupy my brain lately. It was even quiet enough for a nap since Trudy and Bam-Bam must not have been home. I avoided it though because I have a stack of videogames I need to play for work before I head back from break. Yes, I work in the videogames industry. Yes, I need to play games as part of my job, to stay current and all. You know, for research. On the docket today, FINALLY completing Uncharted 2, which truly lives up to the hype as Game of the Year in so many ways. The set pieces are stunning, the gameplay pacing is spot-on, and the camera angles fool you into thinking you're watching a movie. It's got everything you could ask for in a cinematic action experience.

I have a lot of stuff going on for the rest of the break. Some good, some not so good. Today, for just a few hours at least, I had a good day. My own day.

I didn't even have to use my AK!

337 days and counting.

Sunday in the Park

My run went so much better than breakfast afterwards.

(Yelp Alert: Paty's in Burbank...good food, good prices, brain-dead service.)

What is it sometimes with servers? Why is it that when I'm the nicest, most accommodating, most understandable guest, I get screwed the first? How hard is it to get right two scrambled eggs, two pancakes (with strawberries), with a turkey patty and orange juice? Compared to multiple omelets ordered by my fellow Valley Coach/LA Tri Club athletes? Yet, there I was, last to receive my food, with the order completely jacked up. No strawberries. No orange juice. Turkey patty delivered without the eggs and pancakes. Really? No, seriously...really? My bad luck continued through the end of the meal when the group had to wait outside for me as the bill had to be first recalculated to account for the missing orange juice order I got charged for, and then when my change wasn't returned to me. Actually, the server had the chutzpah to ask me if I wanted change after giving $20 for a $10.40 bill. Uh, yes please.

...And scene.

Phew...that felt goooood! I needed that.

OK, on to more important things, like the run itself. We had three options today, a seven, 11 or 14-mile trail run in Griffith Park. I had never run in the hills there, and I've never run more than a half-marathon.

Today was my lucky day. Or at least it was at 7:30 a.m.!

First of all, if you haven't run the Griffith Park trails...wow. Once again, I've been treated to a new side of Los Angeles. And there was no smog today, so the views of downtown, Glendale and the San Gabriel Mountains were gorgeous. Wish I had brought my camera along for the run (it bangs against my leg, unfortunately).

My assignment today was to run for 2:30, with the usual 22-count/15-second cadence. Until today, I had never run longer than two hours, which occurred last week on the Nike trail run. Overall, I felt good at the end of the run, but don't think I could have run much more today. The hills were manageable and the backs of my knees didn't ache during the run like last week. Around mile 13, my IT bands started to tighten up on both legs, but I managed. My overall HR average was around 141 (though the final 20 minutes were spent in the mid-150s) and I burned through a whopping 1,600 calories.

I experimented with some new nutrition on the run at the urging of Coach Gerardo. I tried Herbalife's "Fuel Good" energy supplement (a tablet that fizzes into your water) and Powergel. The verdicts: "Fuel Good" made me feel good and Powergel gave me a power stomach ache.

My favorite part of the run, once again, was getting to know my fellow triathlete friends. Each has their own story and motivations. Today, I spent the most time during the run with Christina (pictured, back row second left), a mother of two and a two-time Ironman finisher. She recently completed Ironman Arizona, shaving off three hours from her previous Ironman thanks to extensive training from Vinnie (whom I wrote about yesterday). Christina is hoping to podium at an Ironman event within the next eight years, and with her training regimen and mental outlook I think she can do it. In fact, I think Christina is the kind of person who can do just about anything she puts her mind to.

Too bad she wasn't in charge at Paty's this morning.

338 days and counting.

Group Ride Saturday

In a nice schedule quirk, I'm typing in a relaxed state in the middle of the day, hours after a smooth, 40-mile ride with the Valley Coach team. We wound our way from Calabasas to near Thousand Oaks and back.

I took along my cycling buddy, Frank, who managed to immediately distance himself from the group and launch ahead of the pack. Unfortunately for him, we had two flat tires in the group and Frank found himself alone with several other pelatons riding the same route. This was after Frank was almost ran over by another cyclist from a different club who wasn't paying attention. Note to other cyclists on the road: When you're in a pelaton, how 'bout looking straight ahead on the road and not talking to your friend behind you? Thanks! I was clipped by the offender's handlebar, but fortunately had enough momentum to maintain course on the road and not bump into someone else. Close call though.

The goal of today's ride was to maintain zone 2 heart-rate and not delve into 3-5. I almost complied 100%, but there were a couple times where someone in the group opened up the throttle and I was just a little too curious to see where I stood. Fortunately, for the most part, I'm hanging in there with the fast group just fine. Of course, it's hard to tell since it's not a speed or power workout, but the end result is that I feel good enough to continue working out today if need-be. Since I don't have to though, it's an afternoon of hoops and Modern Warfare 2 co-op with my buddy, TJ.

Today's workout highlight was meeting a new cycling friend, Vinnie (pictured, red shirt/gray vest to my right). He's a fitness coach, which was apparent by his hulking frame. This dude was jacked, and a badass. In fact, he had heart surgery LAST WEEK to fix a "minor" problem. That's some John Wayne stuff right there. After the ride, Vinnie went running! Can you believe that?! I still can't.

Vinnie led the ride today and was very good at making sure everyone had the proper gear and that our bikes were pre-checked before leaving. I caught up with "America's Trainer" (that's his moniker on one of his websites) for the latter part of the ride, where we chatted for at least 20 minutes about fitness, triathlons, how the heart works, nutrition, and how best to brand his many business interests. Though the coolest subject for me was the fact that Vinnie served as Cooper and Peyton Manning's fitness coach at Newman Friends Prep School in New Orleans. Yeah, that Peyton Manning. Vinnie noted that he was surprised that Peyton has taken off the way he has considering he was rather small and unfocused up until the end of middle school heading into high school. Cooper showed more promise, but a bone marrow condition ultimately ended the eldest Manning's career. I'll be looking forward to more conversations with Vinnie in the future, and now we're Facebook buddies.

TJ just got here, so it's time to geek out for a while!

339 days and counting!

Here Comes Hanukkah!

I finally had a chance to celebrate Hanukkah tonight with my family. It's the last night, so the anticipation had gradually built up all week. As a kid, this was the time where I'd get that one special gift, that one thing that I had been hoping and praying for all season long. The GI Joe hovercraft, for example (man, I coveted that!). In past years, it's closer to underwear and socks as a running joke in the fam, but I always get something I really want or need.

Tonight was no different. My sister and her boyfriend were kind enough to pool their resources and buy me the Surge h20 waterproof headphones and armband combo. As we all know, few things become more repetitive and mind-numbing than lap swimming. At least my rockin' tunes might help shake up the workouts a bit.

My parents apparently have been reading my blog as they bought me a trainer climber for my front wheel and a sweat guard for the head set and frame. And believe me, I really need that! I also received a few shekels toward buying a new watch computer. I'm leaning towards the Garmin 305 at this point. There are some great deals on Amazon.

Maybe the best gift of the night though was the most nostalgic. My parents recently bought a device that records vinyls and converts them to discs or MP3 files. They have a huge collection of records that span from the Beatles and Dylan to Tchaikovsky and in this particular instance, Peter and the Wolf. This story was one of my all-time favorites as a child, so much so that at a Hollywood Bowl live performance with Henry Winkler (The Fonz) serving as narrator, I shouted at him from my seat when he strayed from the script to ad lib. I was 3.

Maybe I can listen to that with the new headphones while doing my pyramid sets on Sunday.

Tomorrow in about nine hours, I've got a casual 2:30-3:30 ride with Valley Coach. Frank Lafuente, my cycling mentor, is joining me. We're riding at 8 a.m. at the Starbucks off Malibu Canyon Road and Agoura Road, if you're local, actually read this blog, and would like to join. We're keeping heart-rate in zone 2 for most of the ride so it should be a nice steady pace.

Happy Hanukkah for me indeed, and I wish the same to all my friends in the virtual world reading this.

340 days and counting.

Bailed Out

On some days, training takes a back seat. This was one of those days, for a variety of reasons.

I fulfilled my civic commitment on jury duty. Which almost turned into a full trial, but thankfully I was the last prospective juror cut. Apparently, my strong ties to Simi Valley and the law enforcement community there was enough to keep the defense team feeling a little skittish about my ability to remain impartial during police testimony. (I'm sure the prosecution loved me though!) In the end, fate was on my side for being able to keep my vacation schedule intact. The trial didn't conclude until 4:30 p.m. though, so instead of heading home early to catch Thursday night football (go Colts!), I punched the timeclock at the gym. Upper-body weightlifting, followed by an hour on the trainer in heart-rate zones 2-3.

Man, that trainer sure can be hard! I fixed the rubber shaving issue by maintaining a tighter grip between the wheel and the trainer (thanks Dad!). But the resistance on the bike was even greater, so what was supposed to be a big-chain ride was small chain all the way. I still maintained an average HR of 144 during the course of the hour, staying in zone 3 for most of the last 15-20 minutes. And I was literally dripping all over in sweat. Tank top soaked all the way through, complete with a nice puddle under the bike. Yuck, but the best evidence possible of a great workout.

And now, I eat. And then, I shower. And then, I run off to a holiday party. All within 45 minutes.

No time yet to bail out, cool down and rest up. Onward!

Overall, I completed every workout but one this week, so I'm happy. And with the holiday season in full swing, complete with jury duty thrown in, that ain't too bad.

Tomorrow is a rest day. That means more holiday shopping and gift-wrapping (which I'm terrible at). So, instead of battling the trainer, the gym, the pool, or the mountains, I'll be battling fellow chippy and chipper shoppers.

Not sure which is more challenging!

341 days and counting.

Quittin' Time!

As the title might suggest, it's quitting time for me.

But only at work. And just for a couple weeks of much-needed R&R.

I'm officially off work until January 4, 2010. Today is my last day in the office, where I'm frantically trying to wrap up the year so I can head home. As I sit here in the darkened office typing this (everyone else is gone!), I feel like a kid again, as giddy about two-plus weeks off as I ever was about taking three-months off during leisurely summers long ago.

Ahhh! What to do...what to do.

Oh, I know! Train! And then train some more! It's strange, but it feels like I'm essentially taking time off from one job to focus on another, setting the training foundation for Ironman Arizona. I'm hopeful the training will be more relaxed since I won't be stressed about cramming in work hours between training sessions.

I won't have to worry as much about missing sessions, like I did today. First, I enjoyed a beautiful run this morning in Griffith Park, my first time running there besides a 10k I completed in March 2008 (think I finished in around 50 minutes if I remember correctly). Today's goal was to continuously count 22 strides with my left foot in 15-second intervals for an hour while maintaining a zone 2 heart-rate. I mostly met that goal, but I had to run for 15-seconds and then drop back for the next 45. I wasn't dropping back far though, probably to between 19-21 strides per 15 seconds. I'm not sure if that equals success, but I did hit my 22-count marks every minute and maintained an average HR of 143 for the entire hour. I hope Coach Gerardo considers that progress, especially since I couldn't fit in the cool-down swim tonight.

I had every intention of swimming (OK, I knew it was a stretch from the start) but realized today would be nuts. Presentations, meetings, housekeeping, farewells to co-workers heading to our North Carolina office...it was a packed day.

Yet once again, I feel guilty. Like I failed. I mean, I could have gotten up earlier to run and then swim, right? I feel like I let Coach Gerardo down, even though 85-90% completion per week is considered "very good" (I still hate that word though). But, I guess the only one I harm when not training is myself. 'Nuf said.

But starting tomorrow, I'll be back on schedule. A nice holiday schedule! At least for the next weeks.

Ahh!

Oh no! I almost forgot...jury duty!

Arrrgh! LA Superior Court, here I come.

342 days and counting

Puttin' in the Time

Some training sessions are memorable and remain forever etched in one's mind because of a milestone, a breakthrough, positive encouragement or something special that happened.

This was one of those days where none of the above occurred.

We've all been there though. It's the rule rather than the exception. Just another workout. Nothing spectacular to report. Taken on its own, no progress was made.

Puttin' in the time.

That's the quick summary of my training today. I spun at home on the trainer in the morning, watching Sportscenter to catch up on all the sports I've missed from this demanding training regimen. Once again, I shaved off a good portion of my rear tire. I really need to fix that. And once again, I noticed the dead spot in my pedal stroke during my isolated leg training segments. Need to figure out how to fix that as well. All in due time.

After a long day in the office, I trudged through a weightlifting session for my legs. I made it through the workout of squats, leg extensions, step-ups, calf-raisers, lunges and abs work with enough sweat to know I put in effort, but still thinking I could have pushed it harder. Then again, that's not what this training is about. It's about puttin' in the time, not going hard-core with each workout. I need to constantly tell myself that during training.

I suppose that's the irony from training for an Ironman. The training itself is an endurance test. Not every day can bring an epiphany. Not every day can be memorable.

The trick is to find the zen in the monotony and repetitiveness. The mundane can still be sublime if you open yourself up to that possibility.

343 days and counting.

Just Another Manic Monday

I kinda wish it were Sunday.

I prefer the leisurely trail running session from yesterday to the gasping feeling I had by the end of my hour-long swim early this morning at the Burbank YMCA. I ended up completing the prescribed swim workout, 2,500 yards, in about 1:10. But it felt a lot longer. I feel like a hamster in a cage going back and forth for what amounted to 125 pool lengths in a 20-yard pool. Ugh.

During the swim, I noticed what Coach Gerardo was referring to when he mentioned I swim uphill. I can feel my legs dragging below the surface and it's annoying not to be able to fix it immediately. I was improving on rotating my body though. So perhaps it's one problem at a time.

By the time I got to the office before 9, I felt like it was already 5 p.m. That's because I didn't sleep so well and decided I might as well arise when Trudy and Bam-Bam did, at 5:30 a.m. (BTW, if anyone has any ideas on revenge for these inconsiderate neighbors, I'm all ears.) I realize that I need to change to this sort of schedule to fit all the workouts in before the day begins. It's more practical and allows me to have a little more free time in the evenings. The idea of going to bed at 9:30 p.m. to get a full night's sleep makes me feel like an old geezer though! Some of my friends would tell you I already act like one anyway.

I managed to have a productive day though after eating an entire calzone for lunch. I'm a bit of a calorie monster right now to keep the weight on. I also fit in the second half of my workout after work, light treadmill running and some drill work. Broke a little sweat, but mainly treated it as a recovery exercise.

Another day, another two workouts. Trying to settle into a new routine... I'll get there eventually. Now it's time to wrap up holiday shopping.

344 days and counting.

A Cold (War) Run

I'm beginning to see a pattern in my Ironman training.

The harder it is to get out of bed, the bigger the reward for doing so.

It rained hard last night throughout Los Angeles. HARD. So, once again, early this morning my bed was cozy and the room was super dark. Just the way I like it.

Oh yeah, and it's Sunday. The Day G-d invented for NFL football.

But, training beckoned. So did Coach Gerrardo's brother, Rey. The elder Barrios was leading a small group of Valley Coach and LA Triathlon Club athletes (pictured) on a jaunt through what's called the Nike trail. Surprisingly, it's not an ode to Phil Knight's company, but rather an homage to an ominous monument from the Cold War. It's hard to imagine a time when the US Army felt a need to have missile stations watching over Los Angeles in fear of a Soviet attack. But there the restored structure stands, complete with a creepy abandoned watch post station just off the main trail, along with educational signs. When I walked up the small hill towards the missile launcher, I could almost feel the tension that seemed to choke some of the fresh air out of the crisp morning.

And crisp it was. My fellow LA Tri Clubbers and Valley Coach teammates laughed about the steam rising from our bodies in the 55-degree chill (Weather Wuss alert!) after the scenic 11-mile birds-eye tour overlooking the San Fernando Valley. But it was so worth it. I've lived in SoCal my whole life and in the short few years I've been training for triathlons, I've been delighted to see a side of greater Los Angeles that I didn't think existed.

There's still nature here! Paradise hasn't quite been completely paved, and that parking lot, well, there's still a lot of trails and gravel left to explore.

On a cold, wet, Sunday morning, I couldn't be happier I rolled out of bed early. I hope the next time you're contemplating turning over in that comfy bed to get a few more hours of marginal, guilt-ridden sleep, you'll think first of the unseen world in your backyard that's waiting to be enjoyed.

Rise up. Launch yourself out of bed. You won't regret it. And who knows what hidden monuments you may find.

345 days and counting.

Swimmin' and Spinnin' in the Rain

When I heard the rain rattling outside at 6:30 this morning (between Trudy and Bam-Bam running amok), I was wondering whether today's swim and ride would be cancelled.

Maybe hoping is the right word. I was warm and cozy. The thought of driving 20 minutes and jumping into a pool in the rain was up there with biking in a tornado. Thank goodness for peer pressure though. This was a Valley Coach group swim. I didn't want to be the wuss that stayed home.

I'm so glad I went.

In fact, I wish it rained more often. The water was warmer than the outside temperature, and the way the rain gently tickled my arms when they came out to stroke was actually relaxing. The tougher part was the workout itself. I lost track of how many laps we swam, but I know it was at least 1,500 yards and probably much more. We did kick drills (which I suck at), stroke drills and laps. Lots of intervals. I made all the times, but I learned after that effort was the key, not performance. I was exerting too much energy.

How applicable that statement is in my overall life.

At breakfast after the swim, I learned from Coach Gerrardo that I'm "sinking" when I swim, meaning that I'm swimming uphill, so to speak. I need to lengthen my stroke as well, and make sure my elbows are more vertical when I'm preparing to stroke. That sounds like a lot to fix! Not sure how I'm gonna do it, but I have 346 days to find out!

I also found time today for a 90-minute session on the trainer. Where I proceeded to shave off a portion of my back wheel from apparently too much contact on the trainer wheel. Will somebody please show me how to use this thing properly!? Or is this what I should expect every time? Do I need a beater wheel?

To pass the time while I spun, I watched "Downfall" on DVD, the German foreign-language masterpiece showing Hitler's final days. (It's also known now as being the source of one of the internet's great memes, when Hitler melts down after finding out he's surrounded by the Russians.) I found my pace and heart rate quickening as the tension mounted throughout the movie.

I especially enjoyed spinning with the balcony window open, watching the rain fall. I felt productive despite the weather, like I was gaining a leg up on many people who decided (sensibly enough) not to train today.

I like that feeling, for a change.

And I'll look forward to more showers in the coming days. What used to be a guaranteed day off is now a sought-after opportunity.

346 days and counting.

Meet the Shan Clan!

Unless you're totally insane, you don't just wake up one day and decide that you can do an Ironman within a year.

You need some prior experience. A foundation.

The "Shan Clan" built my foundation.

In 2007, I was a little overweight. I was out of shape. I wasn't very happy with myself.

Shannan Lynch (pictured, left) turned all that around. Shannan runs the gym in my office building complex. But Shannan isn't just a manager. She's got degrees in virtually every relevant subject for fitness and nutrition. She's trained professional athletes and celebrities. And she's probably the fastest girl I've ever known, routinely earning podium finishes in any kind of running event she enters.

Over the course of nearly two years, Shannan whipped me into shape and changed my nutrition habits. She used a variety of equipment and training regimens to do so. Everything from traditional dumbells, barbells, balance boards and Bosu balls to resistance bands and step platforms. And no two workouts were exactly alike, so Shannan managed to keep me mentally engaged while my muscles were constantly worked in new ways during our twice-a-week sessions.

Thanks to Shannan, I went from barely being able to run a 5k to completing my first triathlon. I also dropped 20 pounds.

Then, in early 2009, Shannan changed responsibilities and became more of a full-time fitness center manager. My training didn't skip a beat though because of another Shan...Shannon Flanagan.

Shannon and I have a great time training together, and she's every bit of a badass as Shannan (I'd like to see them race in a 100-yard dash!). She's a heck of a spin class instructor too! Shannon puts me through my paces, doesn't let me whine (too much) and we're pretty much always laughing. Our weekly training sessions are among my personal highlights for the week. More important, my event results improved steadily throughout 2009, and Shannon was very in-tune with helping me modify the workouts to maximize performance during triathlon season.

The "Shan Clan" has put me in a position to go after the Ironman. I can't thank them enough.

***

Today was my off-day. It came at the right time. A hot bath, 10.5 hours sleep and a day of no physical activity later, I'm ready for action tomorrow.

Depending on the severity of the rain, it's either a morning bike ride and a swim to follow, or a swim and spin if it's stormy. Looking forward to both.

347 days and counting.

Hitting the Wall

I've always been taught that G-d laughs at those who make plans.

Once again, I learned how true that statement was.

As you may have read in yesterday's post (OK, all six of you!), I was reinvigorated to finish my week of training strong with a run and swim. I was sure I could do it and motivated for another double workout.

I got through the run OK. Actually, better than expected. Despite the low 50s temperature, I ran in shorts and a hoodie for an hour doing exactly what was prescribed, (mostly) maintaining 22-step left-foot cadence at 15-second intervals on a slightly hilly course. Better still, the course consisted of a .75 mile loop that I lapped 9 times. So I ran close to 6.75 miles in an hour. Definitely much more than expected, and I was pumped.

But when I parked at work and trudged up the stairs towards the gym to shower, I knew the swim was in serious jeopardy.

My legs were heavy. My mind was weary. I was gassed. The week had finally caught up with me.

12 workouts since last Friday. By far the most training I've done in a week, ever. Stick a fork in me.

I was feeling pretty bad about the prospect of ditching a workout and tried to scrounge for enough energy to keep my perfect streak intact. It just didn't happen.

What did happen was a steady procession of food and drink. I couldn't satisfy my hunger. A Cliff bar, Hammer gel, pancakes, eggs, sausage patty, apple, chocolate, and chicken quesadilla weren't enough to keep me feeling fueled and fired up during the day.

So I phoned it in. Coach Gerrardo was understanding and supportive. He mentioned that completing 85-90% of the prescribed workouts in a given week is "very good." Normally, I hate the sound of those words -- "very good." I crave excellence, dammit! "Very good" sounds like a "B" at best. I don't like getting "B's."

But today, "very good" sounded, well, very good.

In fact, it felt like getting an "A."

***

Tomorrow is a rest day, and I will finally get around to writing about the "Shan Clan" -- my two energetic and extremely knowledgeable personal trainers over the past two years, Shannan and Shannon.

348 days and counting.

The Difference Between a Good & Great Coach

When I think of successful coaches, I visualize sideline leaders who ooze charisma, bark orders, and demand excellence.

Vince Lombardi. Pete Carroll. Pat Riley (sorry, I'm a Lakers die-hard). Gene Hackman's character from "Hoosiers."

All these attributes point to one-way communication. A leader speaking or dictating to his/her followers. I was reminded this morning there's another quality that separates a great coach from a good one: A good listener.

I was feeling a little deflated after my morning spin at home proved to be deceptively difficult. I couldn't understand why 45 minutes of riding on my trainer in the big chain would be so much more sweat-inducing than when I'm actually cycling on the road. Besides literally spinning my wheels, was I metaphorically doing the same? Worse yet, was I regressing? Were the multiple two-a-day sessions catching up with me?

When I arrived into work, I already had an email waiting in my inbox from Coach Gerrardo. Not only was he reading my blog (thank goodness someone else is!), but he wrote to offer some perspective after reading last night's Into the Wild post. Gerrardo reminded me that we're primarily training for the LA Marathon right now and not to worry too much about Ironman for the moment. In other words, don't get lost in the forest amidst the trees (if you read the Into the Wild post, this is a particularly fitting analogy). He also mentioned it's OK to cut a few workouts short. It's more important to have fuel in the tank at the end while putting in a bit less work than hitting a wall but finishing the workout.

Gerrardo's words were exactly what I needed to hear. I felt refreshed and energized for my lunchtime lifting session (upper body: lats, chest, shoulders, abs).

Gerrardo's desire and ability to listen made a difference in my mental outlook -- which is vulnerable at these early stages of training. It also reinforced that I made the right decision choosing Valley Coach over some of the other reputable coaching options online and throughout the Southland.

Tomorrow, I plan to blog about another pair of coaches, Shannon and Shannan. Were it not for them, I wouldn't even be able to consider an Ironman. Before I do though, I've got an hour of running and 2,700 yards to swim.

I'm ready for it. Thanks to a great coach.

349 days and counting.

Into the Wild

Day Four of two-a-day sessions. I'm starting to feel the burn.

The backs of my knees are tight, as are my glutes. But I'm sleeping really well at night, despite Trudy and Bam-Bam's best efforts.

This morning started off strong. I was supposed to run outside for 45 minutes doing cadence drills and skipping. But, it was 43 degrees (though the sky was crystal clear blue) and I was having none of that. Still, I completed the workout in the office campus gym's wood-floored dance/yoga room and on the treadmill. The session consisted of six, 30 left-foot steps in 19-20-second inverals followed by 60 skips (30 each leg) and a Zone 1 treadmill cool-down. Aside from looking like a complete ass (why should this day be any different?!), the session was more challenging than I expected. But I felt pretty solid at the end.

The session's highlight came via my iPod when I rediscovered one of my favorite inspirational songs from the past couple years: "Big Hard Sun" by Eddie Vedder from the Into the Wild soundtrack. (BTW, I highly recommend reading the book. It's a quick, powerful read that straddles the essence of purity of purpose and utter insanity. Not too far off from training for an Ironman, I suppose.)

It was the perfect song for today. Cold. Alone. Passionate. Silent. Strong. I listened to it at least five times in a row.

The second workout occurred today at 5 p.m. I'm lucky to have a job that is both supportive of my personal goals and respectful of work-life balance. I was able to duck out of the office and head to the YMCA-Burbank to check out their indoor pool. I knew I'd make it back into work to make up the hours, and the pool closed at 6. Win-win scenario.

The problem with the Y's Burbank pool is that it's only 20 yards long, so you have to re-calibrate your regimen. For instance, you have to remember that 100 yards is five laps instead of the usual four. Given that I'm not the best at math and that I was running short on time, I missed the prescribed 2,600 yards of swimming by roughly 600 yards. Still, I swam a mile and accomplished most of the workout. Here was the breakout:

-- 200 yard warm-up (supposed to do 300)
-- 4 x 100 yards easy swim (skip)
-- 4 x 150 yard kick, drill, swim (check)
-- 3 x 200 yards moderate swim (check)
-- 8 x 50 yards fast (check)
-- 200 easy swim cool-down (supposed to do 300)

Man, was I hungry after! Killed an entire Baja Fresh Burrito Mexicano and probably will have a protein shake when I get home from the office, where I'm writing this entry after wrapping up the day's work.

And then I get to do another double tomorrow. Spin and upper body lifting.

Right now that sounds about as fun as getting lost in the wilderness with no way out.

Then again, after less than two weeks into my Ironman training, that's sort of how I feel already.

I'm clearly deep into the wild.

350 days and counting.

You Spin Me Right Round...

Break out your violins, people, because I'm about to whine about the weather in SoCal.

It's cold out. It's raining. Wah.

Fortunately, my third day of two-a-day workouts consisted of two indoor sessions: 45 minutes of lower-body lifting (squats, leg extensions, lunges, step-ups, calf-raisers and abs work) and one hour of spinning.

I've never been happier to be indoors working out, primarily because I used a bike trainer for the first time. I caught up with friends on the phone, watched a little Monday Night Football (Go Packers!), completed my isolated leg training and still kept cadence upwards of 92 consistently. While my heart-rate stayed consistently within 130, I was surprised by how deceptively hard the workout was. I'm not sure why. Can anyone explain? I was in small chain in a smaller gear and it still felt like a fair amount of resistance. Not that I'm complaining... I've already used up my crybaby factor on the weather, remember?

I think my trainer is about to become my new best friend. Tonight alone it saved me from spending $16 on a single spin class session. And with the costs associated with this sport, I'll save a buck wherever I can!

***

Couple highlights to share from today:

-- Three-time world Ironman champion Chrissie Wellington (@ChrissieIrorman) is following me (@theironmadman) on Twitter. That was so cool, and she even replied back to me when I said thanks for the follow.

-- KNBC-TV (Channel 4) anchorman and Ironman Arizona 2009 finisher Chris Schauble (@chrisschauble) is also following me on Twitter. He's back training again after a very successful event. In fact, Chris ran four miles in the rain today. Hard-core!

-- A rainbow appeared outside my office window today literally for two minutes. All the folks at that end of the building rushed outside to see it. It was kind of funny to see a bunch of grown men get excited by a rainbow. But that's exactly what happened. Cool!

Gotta get to bed. Another double workout session tomorrow. Next up: Run and swim.

351 days and counting.

Meet Frank, My Mentor

Do you have a mentor? Not the work kind, but more like a training mentor? Not like Lance Armstrong (though that would be awesome), but more like someone who makes you just a little bit better every time you train.

For me, that person is Frank (pictured). Funnily enough, I work with Frank as well, and I've learned from him inside the office too. Not just about work either, but about everything from how the brain works to Spanish culture and even the history of the Tour de France, among many other topics.

But this isn't a blog about cubicles, meetings, brainstorming, paradigm shifts or any other corporate-sounding crap.

Frank is a fantastic cyclist. He's had the great fortune of growing his skills in the Swiss Alps as well as Austin, Texas. In other words, the dude can climb. And he's not one of these small, gazelle-like climbers that you see wearing the polka-dot jersey in the Tour de France. (No, I'm not saying you're fat, Frank!) I get a special kick out of watching Frank obliterate unsuspecting (and pompous) cyclists up and down the many hills that dot the Malibu Canyon area. They generally have no idea what just passed them.

Each weekend for almost a year now, I've had the privilege of cycling with Frank. He's taught me how to get the most out of my body during long climbs. He's taught me to recognize when my right foot is pointing inward on my pedal stroke. He's taught me to trust my bike more, too, though that went a little too far this past April when I turned my first road bike into a mountain bike as I flew off the road in Santa Susana Pass in Simi Valley. That wasn't Frank's fault though, as I was trying too hard to keep up with someone with 20 years of cycling experience and didn't have enough understanding or appreciation of physics, gravity and the importance of taking a proper line.

Plus, we all know that there are two kinds of cyclists: Those who have crashed and those who haven't crashed yet.

I rode with Frank today on a leisurely but brisk (56 degrees) and windy (cross-winds nearly the whole way) 2:12 stroll from Northridge to Calabasas and back. Details here: http://www.mapmyride.com/ride/united-states/ca/granada-hills/559126013868457000

I maintained a steady average HR of 129, which was the goal (staying in Zone 2 for at least 50% of the ride). Frank was great about supporting my ride goals and not dropping me, as he can often do. Since I'm a sucker for peer pressure, I really appreciated the assist.

No matter how hard Frank pushes me, he always helps me improve. And no matter how badly he wants to open up the throttle and pedal hard the entire ride, he always holds back and waits for me to catch up.

That's the definition of a teacher. A friend. And a mentor.

***

After my ride, my workout was only half-way complete. I was supposed to swim for 45 minutes at a cadence of 44-45 strokes per minute. I haven't been in a pool for at least two weeks and therefore expected to do much worse.

Turns out that hopping in the pool is kinda like remember how to ride a bicycle.

Despite some general rustiness that might be attributed to ride fatigue or lactic-muscle build-up, the swim was pleasant and rewarding. I typically was in the 43-46 strokes-per-minute range, though I did get down to 39 once by using my legs a lot more. I have a feeling though that's a bad idea come Ironman time. But, I'm sure I'll learn more as I go.

Maybe I need a swimming mentor?

352 days and counting.

Eye of the Tiger

Running toward the Hollywood sign this morning in Bronson Canyon, I had an out-of-body experience.

What do I mean?

I think we've all had one, actually. Have you ever been engrossed in thought or activity when that perfect song comes up on your iPod, XM, Pandora, or even good ol' FM radio? It reflects your mood, your attitude and state of mind in that moment. And the moment becomes illuminated, transformed. Heightened. Intensified. Unforgettable.

It's as if you are watching yourself experience the moment from afar, because you know every nano-second of the experience is being hard-wired into your brain for the rest of your life.

That happened to me this morning, running up one of the steep grades on the way to overlooking cloudy Los Angeles atop the Hollywood sign. It was already a good morning, despite a late start. The weather was crisp, the traffic was light, and despite two back-to-back days of two-a-day workouts (and one late night out), I was feeling fine. Better than fine, even though I think I've got a head cold from Mullet Man.

My heart-rate was at my Zone 3 threshold (roughly 155 bpm) and I was working hard to keep it in check by alternating between jogging and walking.

Then, the theme from "Rocky" popped up on my iPod Nano, right as I was reaching a summit and turning a corner to see the big iconic symbol of Los Angeles peek into view, up close and personal.

The music transformed what would have been a nice moment into something special. Into something powerful. Into a belief that no hill was too high or too challenging. That no challenge couldn't be overcome with enough hard work, sweat, focus, planning and grit.

It was at this moment, alone on a Saturday morning trail run, where I realized that I could become an Ironman.

It's within reach. It's not a fantasy.

Ironman is my Apollo Creed or Clubber Lang, I guess.

And ya know what, "you ain't so bad!"

***

Quick shout-out to my good friend, TJ. He was nice enough to mention that my Ironman journey has helped him think of what his own personal Ironman challenge should be. He's embarking on something big to help his writing career, and I think he'll make it happen.

That's really what this blog is about. If I can help motivate people to think of how they, too, can find their own personal Ironman and accomplish their goals...then I would be incredibly proud and grateful.

I hope you'll join TJ and me.

353 days and counting.

Too Early for 2-a-Days?

I was too tired to blog yesterday.

I can't tell if that's because I was suffering the effects from my 14-hour travel day on Wednesday, which include that tell-tale throat tickle that must have come from Mullet Man. Or, maybe it was the combination early morning run followed by the evening lower body lifting session.

Maybe a little of Column A and a little of Column B?

My goal when I started this blog was to write an entry for every day leading up to Ironman AZ. That lasted less than a week. I will try to do better next time.

Here's the quick summary of yesterday's workouts.

Highlights: Running close to six miles at the prescribed heart rate (below 145) without trouble. (By the way, if you're interested I've attached my initial hear-rate goals until I have a proper field test.) And, being able to maintain Coach Gerrardo's desired cadence of 22 steps with the left foot at 15-second intervals. Weather was crisp and brisk and despite being jet-lagged, the run was pleasant. Dare I say invigorating? Listened to U2's No Line on the Horizon album, which is growing on me several months after the release and one live concert later (Rose Bowl).

Lowlights: Forgetting my running shoes at the gym and having to wear my silver-and-black argyle loafers with my workout gear. I looked like Jeff Spicoli joining the track team. Still managed to get a good session in despite my goofy appearance.

Today, after a relatively (rare) peaceful night's sleep I attended a 7 a.m. spin class at The Ride in Sherman Oaks (http://theridela.com/). The instructor was Lorie Kramme, whom I highly recommend if you're looking to learn and grow from a fellow passionate cyclist. Someone who knows how to really talk you through a visual experience while pushing your aerobic threshold just enough. What I especially enjoyed was her willingness to embrace my need for a specific workout (isolated leg training) and she even incorporated it into the group workout.

In the next hour I'll be conducting the second of my workouts today, upper-body lifting (read: swimming muscles emphasis) at our company gym. I'll be sure to bring my running shoes this time.

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One quick note: I had the great fortune yesterday of being able to thank the two people responsible for piquing my interest in triathlon. Both live Down Under, as you might expect considering how popular triathlon is in Australia/New Zealand. I was in Auckland for a press trip when I met Dave Hine and Paul Gunn in November 2007, and my life changed ever since. Gents, thanks again for encouraging me to expand beyond my comfort zone. For dreaming big. For getting me off my lazy ass. For making me believe that I could complete a triathlon. And for being supportive of my (exceedingly modest by comparison) accomplishments in the sport.

Paul is one of New Zealand's best triathletes in his age group (35-39). I'm trying to get him to start his own Twitter feed so he can share his experiences with us. Paul was kind enough to invite me to stay with him in January 2011 for the Mount Half Ironman National Long Distance Championships. Even though it will only be a few months after Ironman AZ, I'm considering it.

But that's more than a year from now. Time to hit the gym.

354 days and counting.

No Workout? No Problem!

No workout today. Instead, 14 hours of travel, make that five hours of actual air travel from North Carolina to California and nine hours of combined waiting in between.

At one point in my three-hour Dallas layover I tried to run for a bit…from McDonald’s back to the gate. There’s something not quite right about jogging while clutching a bag filled with chicken tenders and that oh-so-sweet barbecue sauce. At least I ditched the fries, right? And hey, I’m sure I was within Zone 1 on the heart-rate.

We were stuck in Dallas (pictured above) because not one but TWO planes were broken. The first had a hydraulic fluid leak and the second was broken yesterday but the problem was allegedly solved earlier today. False. Plane B never left its sad hangar. Fortunately, A) we were in an American Airlines hub destination and lots of other MD-80s were available and B) we were on the ground when we learned of said problems.

On the initial doomed plane, I had the pleasure of sitting next to a very large man occupying the middle seat and spilling onto both seats surrounding him. We’ll call him Jake. To his right, we had a coughing – OK hacking for his life – mullet-wearing man in the window seat who looked like the opening act for the Blue Collar Comedy Tour. Mullet Man, I swear he looked like one of the two Darryls from that Bob Newhart show, was coughing so feverishly that at one point he puked up the water he was trying to drink while calming himself down. That prompted Jake the Fat Man to find another seat, claiming he was too big to ride “bitch.”

At this point, Mullet Man leaned into me and apologized for his wretched coughing. My caring side gave in and I told him not to feel sorry and that I understood his predicament.

Then, Mullet Man told me he had bronchitis.

Then, he patted my shoulder and thanked me for my compassion.

At which point, the lady across the aisle told me that Mullet Man most likely was suffering from Swine Flu. How does she know? Well, she’s a nurse, and she’s heard that phlegm-rattling cough many times lately.

I’ve yet to put together six days straight of training on Coach Gerrardo’s new plan, let alone six straight days of training in two weeks, and now I may be a walking Swine Flu case.

My Ironman training is not off to the zesty start I envisioned. That’s what I get for staying an extra night in North Carolina to watch the Tar Heels play.

One positive note though, which I’m clinging to: Coach Gerrardo texted me last night that the comfortable pace I ran in my 45 minute treadmill jaunt yesterday would be good enough to finish a marathon in 4:20. While that may not seem remarkable on the surface (it’s not!), what’s cool is that if I can bike 112 miles in six hours and swim 2.4 miles in 1:15, I can actually finish my first Ironman in less than 12 hours (barring injury or bonking). That means I’m well within range to meet my 12-hour goal now. Now!? Wow!

I can do this!

Coach Gerrardo’s text was a huge confidence boost, and really the first one I’ve had since registering for Ironman Arizona last Monday. It’s funny that we can sometimes get the greatest benefit from training on days when we’re not really doing anything at all.

This one text message is enough to hold onto on yet another day without a workout, and enough to motivate me to jump out of the covers early tomorrow morning with my running shoes on.

As long as I don’t have Swine Flu.

356 days and counting.

ESPN + iTunes + Treadmill = Happy

I woke up at 3:50 a.m. California time to go running today. (Any wonder why this blog is called Ironmadman?)

OK, so it was 6:50 a.m. in Durham, NC, where I'm staying, but tell that to my body. It begged to differ.

Admittedly, the appeal of staying warm and comfy in my bed -- knowing this would be the best sleep I'd have for weeks thanks to Trudy and Bam-Bam -- was almost too great to deny. I was able to persevere though, knowing all too well that I can't afford to ignore Coach Gerrardo's training regimen. Bad habits form easily and especially in moments of weakness. Plus, I'm sure he's curious to see if I can handle a workout schedule even when I'm traveling, and that thought alone was the deciding factor to get up and motivate. If I think I'm letting someone down, I push that much harder not to do so.

So at 4 a.m. PST, I found myself alone in the Doubletree's tiny gym (pictured). It was me, a few treadmills, my iPod and ESPN...really all I needed besides water and a toilet to survive. And guess what? There was a water cooler just a few feet away. Happy.

The schedule called for a 45-minute run within heart-rate Zone 1, which apparently is below 135 for me based on a middle-of-the-night text from Gerrardo, who graciously answered my ignorant question.

I'm really enjoying this new way to train. As I've mentioned, I previously thought that the best way to train was to grind, to outwork myself and everyone else around me by pushing myself harder, farther and faster. I've never been the most athletically gifted (as many of my childhood friends can attest), but I always prided myself on being the "Rudy" of the group...I will out-hustle and outlast everyone else until I win. I don't mind pain if it means victory, and as my buddy TJ would say, "that's that."

So, this new approach to running and cycling, which Coach Gerrardo calls "Light, Slow, Distance" (LSD for short, no joke), is a switch. It doesn't feel like I'm working hard, and that leaves me with a slightly guilty feeling so far. But it also leaves me with more energy to get through the day, and less likely to crash around 3 p.m. like I used to do this past triathlon season. Despite my initial concern about the lack of intensity with this type of training, my workout still produced a four-mile run that burned 400 calories. Not too bad, but certainly not the six-mile, 800-calorie torture session I'm used to. Something tells me this is a little healthier (and wiser).

Tomorrow's workout calls for an hour run in zones 1 & 2, meaning my HR must stay within 150-ish the entire time. Then, I'm supposed to lift for 45 minutes after. Mostly legs and abs. Should be fun, considering I get home from North Carolina in the early evening, California time.

356 days and counting...and training already feels a bit like a part-time job! But it's a job I love.