So Close...

My new website is almost ready! It was supposed to be launched today but it's still propagating across the interwebs as we speak. Can you hear it trickling about?

I'm going to give you the first sneak peek, since you few, kind souls have been hanging out with me since the first blog way back in November.

Point your browser to http://ironmadman.com. And welcome to my new home for the rest of the year!

Of course, the official site will be http://www.ironmadman.com. But it's still pointing to my web designer Ward's company page.

I hope to be blogging from the new location as early as tomorrow.

Let me know what you think. After all, you're my dedicated core and if you don't like the site, then I didn't do my job.

***

Today has been a little screwy with the schedule. I woke up early enough to fit in a 2,450-yard swim at Calabasas Tennis & Swim Center but haven't been able to rally for the bike portion of my workout. The day got away from me, plain and simple.

Now, when I have the time to squeeze a trainer session in, I'm online blogging instead. I have a bike/run brick tomorrow and I'm going to conserve energy for that. Besides, I enjoyed a massage today at work (yep, it's not called one of the Best Places to Work in America for nothing!). Why mess with my peaceful state of being by torturing myself on the trainer for an hour?

I just can't do it tonight.

I'm learning more and more that the only way to fit in my workouts is either to do them in the morning before work or at lunch. Evening workouts and I haven't found a way to get along yet.

For now, the thing that I get along with best at night is sleep, which is where I'll be heading soon.

294 days and counting.

Pizza as Performance Enhancer

Pizza, apparently, is my new performance enhancement drug.

Am I a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle?

Pizza is the only way I can explain today's especially strong workouts. I ate up and spit out 2,200 yards in the pool early this morning, reaching all-time bests in cadence (45 strokes per minute!) and consistent sub-T pace (less than 2:05 per 100 yards)

Then, a few hours later, I crushed an hour run on the treadmill with a series of hill sprints at a 5% grade. I was hungry for more by the time the workout was over.

More training. Not pizza.

The night before, I enjoyed a work-related social event where a few of us got together in the studio for pizza and to watch a movie indirectly related to a project we're working on. (Yep, I know there's a few studio fans who read this, hoping for a scoop. Sorry to disappoint, but no clues today!)

Lately, I've been especially conscious of what kinds of nutrition I'm putting into my body. Even after my meeting with the nutritionist a couple weeks ago, who said I could stand to drink a milkshake or two, I've been hesitant. I'm happy with my appearance, and I have an irrational thought that if I let up on the healthy living for a minute... I'll go back to not looking the way I want. (Yes, I am a little concerned about how that last sentence sounds too, but if you saw how I eat throughout the day, you'd put those worries aside!) But, last night was an exception. Pizza sounded too damn good to pass up. So I splurged. A lot.

I figured I'd be sluggish in the pool as a result, but I felt the exact opposite. Light. Fresh. Strong.

And I have pizza to thank.

OK, maybe two months of consistent training and steady diet may have had something to do with my performance, but c'mon, if pizza did wonders for four turtles then I think we know what really happened here today.

300 days and counting.

Calm Before the Storm

Forget all this triathlon stuff for a second.

I'd like to point out that I correctly predicted the Super Bowl match-ups. That doesn't happen often, even though I listen to sports talk radio during my morning commute and my TV should have the SportsCenter logo burned into the screen by now. So, when I actually get something right like sports picks, I gotta gloat just a little!

OK, now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I had a "leisurely" brick workout today. Leisurely because there were no Fortius group runs or bike sessions, meaning I could actually try to sleep in a little (which I needed after a fun night out last night at my new favorite local hangout, the Blue Dog Tavern). Today's scheduled included a one-hour running time-trial, followed by a one-hour swim featuring two sets of six 100-yard intervals with descending finish times.

This time, like my Super Bowl picks (last time, I promise), I got the time-trial right. My lactate threshold for the latter 20 minutes of the 30-minute run was 168 bpm, which was 13 beats faster than my TT earlier this week. This time, I ran harder while staying within the limits of zone 4 instead of zone 3.

My reward? New HR zones, courtesy of Coach Gerardo. Not by much, but a couple minor adjustments.

My pace was somewhat troublesome. I ran 9:05-minute miles. I know I'm faster than that and I've run much faster in actual races (anywhere from 7:30-8-minute miles). But, I guess I need to keep trusting this "slower is faster" mantra and believe that in the Surf City Half Marathon in a few weeks I'll be faster. It should be a good test.

The swim was terrific. I didn't feel winded except for the two final 100s at the end of each interval set, when I was trying to reach my 2:05 threshold-pace. I hit them each time, but I was pushing a little to get there. At the end of the workout though, I felt relaxed and refreshed -- comfortable knowing I could go for longer if I needed to.

That's probably the biggest difference my training has made over the past two months. I can tackle more training and not feel nearly as tired, sore or winded the next day.

The rest of the day has been relaxing and leisurely. Though as I lay in bed typing, it seems like I spent a good portion of it racing around town trying to get chores done before for the next series of storms hits Los Angeles on Tuesday. I did laundry, got gas, picked up groceries, paid bills, cleaned my bike... and even managed to watch an entire NFL football game. Believe it or not, I've rarely done that this entire summer, fall and winter, thanks to the training schedule.

Surprisingly, that last part hasn't bothered me really at all. I've noticed something different this year about myself. As I grow older, I've realized that I can either sit at home watching other people do amazing things on television, or I can go out and try to do amazing things myself. And when you realize what amazing feats your body is capable of -- which I firmly believe is true for all of us, watching TV becomes less and less appealing.

Maybe that's why in marketing the coveted 18-34 year-old demographic ends at 34 and not 35.

And with that, I kill the lights and call it a weekend.

304 days and counting.

Oh-Dark Thirty...

My day started off about as early as I can handle, yet I have plenty of energy to sit awake and type all about it now. That's rare for me. I'm usually exhausted by bedtime. Not tonight.

For a change, I awoke ahead of Bam-Bam, meaning 5:30 a.m. I promised my Fortius teammate and friend, Lisa, that I'd do my swim time trial with her. And I really didn't want to flake. Considering it wasn't raining (yet), I had no excuse.

Surprisingly, swimming smoothly as the sky silently becomes light is a beautiful way to wake up. I think I may do it more often. There's something calming about the teal pool water being lit from below while the sky turns from black, to gray, to purple, to blue. All while the steam from below and fog from above swirl together in a hazy mating ritual.

The time trial itself demonstrated one thing and one thing only: If nothing else, I am consistent in the pool right now. Five weeks ago, I swam 1,000 yards in 20:50. Today, I swam 1,000 yards in 20:50. What are the chances of that happening? Probably pretty good for a guy who knows just when to call California Chicken Cafe in Encino when driving from Burbank to pick up my food just as I walk inside the restaurant. When it comes to timing, I have a tendency to operate like clockwork.

But what does this mean? Why didn't I see improvement in five weeks? Or didn't I? I was able to negative split my swim, so the second 500 yards was faster than the first. This didn't happen my first time, but I was only off by two seconds then. This time, it was a bit more pronounced. Is that progress?

Or is progress measured by feeling comfortable in the water? By feeling strong enough to even consider a negative split at the 500-yard mark?

Is progress measured not in seconds but rather by swimming smarter right now, not harder?

I would like to think so.

The rest of the day and evening has been a blur. More to report than I have time to share. Among the highlights, I had a contractor visit my condo to write an estimate for sound-proofing the ceiling. Wow. For the estimated price of remodeling my kitchen, I can have an insulated condo -- with no full guarantee it will eliminate the noise problem. A sizable noise problem, according to the contractor. Further, I got into a nice, heated confrontation with Trudy via phone because the contractor asked me to inquire if her hardwood floors had cork insulation (they do).

We had what some might call a failure to communicate.

Fortunately, the Fortius group brought me back to my Happy Place(TM). We had a group yoga session tonight at Topham Street Gym. It was nice to see everyone in non-cycling, non-running or non-swimming attire. We looked, well, normal! The session was intense but not overpowering. A good precursor to my time-trial run tomorrow a.m.

After the run, the group went for vegan Vietnamese food in Reseda. I was hesitant at first because after my awful-tasting Vega supplement, I was about finished with this vegan lifestyle. Especially considering that I can pretty much eat whatever I want right now within reason! But, I have to admit that this meal rocked! I ordered udon barbecue "chicken" that tasted outstanding. I have leftovers that I can't wait to dive into tomorrow.

Who knows, maybe I'll even put on a pound by then!

All in all, it was a great day. A busy day. A productive day. An insightful day. A satisfying day spent with friends.

A day I'd like to repeat.

309 days and counting.

Like Father, Like Son

I can barely find the strength to keep my hands on the keyboard right now.

I survived nearly five hours of cycling, followed by a brief break for a gigantic burrito, followed by 2,200 yards of swimming highlighted by four, 300-yard T-pace sets with 50 yards of kicking...as a recovery drill.

My body temperature is literally elevated right now -- I almost feel like I have a fever -- from burning through 3,000-plus calories.

The good news is that I can clearly see improvement, especially on the bike. Today the Fortius (formerly Valley Coach) group rode through Santa Susana Pass (pictured) near my hometown of Simi Valley. I've ridden that pass several times, usually huffing and puffing up both sides (when I'm not sailing off the road down a 30-foot embankment!). Today was different. I casually strolled up each climb, not feeling heavy in the legs or the lungs. My pace hadn't increased from past climbs, but my cadence rose while my heart-rate dropped.

Ahh, progress. When you're putting in this much time and effort, it's vital to savor the moment when you notice it occurring.

The other highlight of my day was swimming with my dad. The past sentence is one I never anticipated typing. But, you just don't know whose life you'll touch when you're trying to inspire and motivate those around you to "try for a tri."

My dad needs a lot of work in the pool, but he actually looked better than I anticipated. From a fitness standpoint, he's clearly trying too hard to do too much, too fast.

Now I know where I get it from! Chip, meet Block.

I suggested he just spend a lot of time early on getting used to the water. Working on breathing. Relaxing. The fitness will come, and eventually, so will technique.

Let's see if he listens. If he's anything like me, and I think he may be, he'll skip Chapter One and head straight to the back of the book for the toughest problems.

Regardless, I truly enjoyed serving as "coach" for my dad. He would say that I've taught him a lot over the years, but I've never really tried to teach in that direct way. So, this is really the first time I can remember teaching him something new. I'm definitely enjoying it, and the longer drive to get my swim workout in was time well spent.

I started typing that my reward for our swim session was a very nice Italian dinner.

Scratch that.

The memory of the experience will far surpass it.

312 days and counting.

Training Saves the Day

Yesterday, my training almost killed me. Literally.

Today, it probably saved me.

I awoke this morning to the soothing sounds of rain splatting downward from the rooftop drains. It was dark, drizzly, and delightfully miserable.

Perfect weather to stay in, rationalize not training, and be a little mopey.

Instead, I donned a hoodie, track pants and my trail runners and took off for Van Nuys-Sherman Oaks park for a damp, muddy one hour, 20-minute training run.

I didn't want to go, I was already warm and comfy inside. But I knew I needed it. Not just the running aspect for my upcoming marathon, but the endorphin rush that came with it.

I didn't sleep well last night. It felt like Phase I of grieving my lost relationship (Denial) had ended and I was spiraling rapidly into a combination Phase II-IV (Anger, Bargaining, Depression) "triple whammy" scenario. Not good. Not healthy.

But, I fought the urge to give in to that dark place. I'd rather fight the rain than the pain, so to speak.

I'm so glad I did. In fact, the sun poked out for a bit about 20 minutes into my slogging/jogging, right after my eight, 20-second hill sprints. It almost felt like a metaphor for me right now in my life... if you accept what appears to be a crappy situation and try to make the best of it, the sun may poke through when you least expect it.

The same thing happened this evening. I had a dentist appointment at 4 p.m. (I need to fill a cavity, dammit!) and found myself with free time around 6. I was at home and could have stayed there, but once again I felt a case of the doldrums closing in. It would have been so easy to sit on the couch and stare at a wall thinking "woe is me!" but I grudgingly rallied and drove to Calabasas to swim 2,800 yards worth of intervals.

Once again, I'm so glad I did. My outlook now is 1,000 times better than when I started fighting traffic on the 101 Freeway to get to the pool. And, I'm physically exhausted, so I should sleep a little better tonight.

In fact, I'm signing off now to go do just that.

315 days and counting.

Easy Does It

Today's training session was a little easy, but I'm not complaining.

Fortunately, my friend from high school, Dustin, made my swim much more enjoyable. We met up at the Calabasas Tennis & Swim Center for his second swim since committing to his first triathlon this summer. It makes such a difference knowing there's a buddy in the swim lane next to you waking up early and going through the same training regimen.

My swim was supposed to be a recovery workout. Several long, easy sets with cadence between 45-55 strokes per minute, followed by five-100 yard sprints at 90% capacity with 30-second rest intervals between each 100.

Usually, I'm hitting 48-50 strokes per minute on my cadence. I was consistently 50-52 strokes today, most likely the result of this weekend's thrashing. But my 100 times were improving. I hit 1:53 (probably close to a personal best for me), followed by 2:00, 2:00, 2:03 and 1:59.

The rest of the day was as smooth outside the water as I felt in it. I finished a presentation for a big meeting tomorrow that I now feel well-prepared for, and my team is performing with good energy and focus.

In short, I feel good.

Tomorrow, I've got a power bike ride for an hour and 15 minutes. I need to figure out where I can get that ride in where it's not too busy at 7:30 a.m. Candidates at this point are Balboa Park, Balboa/Rinaldi/Valley Circle, San Fernando Road, or San Vicente in Brentwood.

But for now, I'm going to bask in being caught up with my personal business, my work business, and my training business. A whole hour of free time! What to do... what to do.

I stayed true to my vow in yoga yesterday...take it easy. And, so far, easy indeed does it.

317 days and counting.

The 3,100 Yard Stare

To give you an idea of how I felt at the end of my bike/swim workout today, I sat in a chair in the pool locker room with my legs elevated, eating an apple, staring at a wall. Watching my calves twitch and shake like each had its own distinct heart beat.

For 15 minutes.

I couldn't move. Frozen. Dazed. Exhausted. I had that "1,000 yard stare" that comes with shell shock.

Like the EAS sports drink ad, "Now I'm done."

Boy, was I ever.

Before the hour and a half of swimming featuring 1,600 yards of threshold-pace intervals, the Valley Coach group rode for four hours, tallying 3,500 feet of climbing and 58.6 miles -- including a brief stop to say hello to the local Lake Sherwood goose population. The bike ride equated to 2012 calories for me.

That was before the swim.

After a brief lunch break with fitness stud Vinnie Tortorich and his charming family, it was off to the pool. Then, what seemed like the longest swim workout ever ensued (because it was for me, by 300 yards, a personal record). It took a lot of willpower not to throw in the towel, so to speak, and end the workout early. My shoulders ached. My stomach was tight. I had forgotten workout details because I forgot to review the plan on my email beforehand.

But, with some improvisation, I finished the workout. Both of them. Brick complete.

The reward? Staying home on a Saturday night. My first weekend night alone without plans since my breakup. Fortunately, there's a lot to do around here. I've neglected all sorts of household chores, so tonight is as good a night as any to get them done.

I'm surprised at how mellow I've been about the breakup. And it's not like I haven't had plenty of time alone to dwell on it. I keep waiting for the big depression to set in. The wallowing. The misery. The anguish. The self-torture.

It hasn't happened. I can't tell if I'm too tired to make a fuss, or if I'm at peace with the whole thing, or still surprised that it's all over. Maybe it's a bit of everything. Either way, I'm moving forward. I'm actually kinda proud of myself so far.

Whether it's been on the road, in the pool or in my own head-space, I haven't quit on myself. I hope I can continue to remain that strong.

Tell ya what though, I guarantee that when I hit the bed tonight it will be with a peaceful thud.

Now I'm done.

319 days and counting.

"He is Beginning to Believe..."

There's a scene in the original "The Matrix" where Neo realizes what he's capable of doing with his mind. It's at that point when his mentor, Morpheus, says, "He is beginning to believe."

That's sort of how I feel about my training right now.

Not that I'm "The One" like Neo. Far from it. What I mean is that after a long workout today of swimming 2,800 yards worth of intervals followed by sprints and heart-rate zone 3 running, I can notice I'm performing better and recovering a little quicker. That's with an increase in swim distance and length while adding some intensity to the run workouts.

I'm beginning to believe that by the time Ironman Arizona rolls around, I will be in better shape and better prepared than I can possibly imagine right now. That's very, very exciting.

It's like knowing I'm about to learn a bunch of kick-ass new powers if I just free my mind, so to speak. I am ready to do that.

I also did today's workout as a brick since I took the day off from work. My buddy Frank offered me his extra ticket to the BCS title game between Texas (he's a UT alum) and Alabama at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena.

Yes, the same Frank whom I accidentally let a refrigerator slam into his shoulder when we were moving it to his new home. Who's still forced to wear a sling and can't cycle for several weeks.

I'm glad he doesn't hold grudges!

Despite the injury to quarterback Colt McCoy early in the game, Texas fought hard throughout in their 37-21 loss to the Crimson Tide. I was especially impressed with the Longhorns' backup QB, Garrett Gilbert. He's a true freshman and was thrust into the biggest game of his life having only thrown 26 passes his entire college career. It took him a while to believe too (probably the entire first half), but eventually Gilbert got into a rhythm and kept the game closer than it should have been.

Look out for this kid in a couple years. I think he'll be something special.

Of course, as I prepare for bedtime, I checked my upcoming training schedule for the weekend. Just when I'm beginning to believe I'm about to head to that proverbial next level of fitness, that I'm getting the hang of this training regimen...the plan changes. Doesn't it always?

After my day off from training tomorrow (Friday is my new favorite day of the week!), Saturday will feature a four-hour bike ride through the Calabasas-Oak Park area followed by 3,100 yards of tempo-training swim intervals.

Ugh.

Now, I feel like Neo as he leaps off the building thinking he can make it to the other side... only to fall flat on his face on the ground.

Guess that's the only way to get better, right?

Neo dusted himself off and tried again eventually. So will I.

Texas dusted itself off after losing Colt McCoy and fought hard against 'Bama. So will I.

321 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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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 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.