Day Dreaming

When I’m training I tend to forward to the breaks. I day dream about when the current session will be over, or if in the middle of a really hard week I dream about my day off when I can rest my body. When those weeks start to add up and a single day isn’t enough I dream about my taper and recover weeks when the intensity level really goes down.

Today is a combination of all of the above: a recovery day in a taper week. Now that I’m here, where I’ve been dreaming about for weeks, I feel antsy, like I should be doing something. I actually miss thinking about my daily training session(s), going through them mentally, psyching myself up for the more difficult days. With nothing to look forward to today, I find myself looking forward to the reason for my rest: a Memorial Day race. This year though is a bit different than last. I’ve run this distance before, and train at longer distances on a regular basis. I know I can complete this race (though I’m really hopeful that it will be wetsuit legal!)

This race the question is how long will it take. I’m too young at this sport to have expectations, though it would be nice to finish within three hours. My goal for this race is to get there healthy, run my race, and not be stuck with thoughts of: I could have done better if only…

Anyway, today I guess I’ll sit around and daydream of the race. Maybe I’ll go clean and oil my bike!

Adapt and overcome

One thing I’ve learned about being a triathlete is that you MUST have the ability to adapt. You go into a race with a plan, and no doubt something goes wrong. Maybe your goggles get knocked off on the swim, or you get a flat tire, or your shoe lace breaks. I don’t know that you can plan for those types of events; you have to be able to deal with them when they occur.

I’ve had a few mishaps during my brief racing career, but today I want to focus on flexibility during training. I’ve got a coach who puts together my training schedule for me. Usually I’m able to do what she asks, but every now and then weather, a cold or something else causes problems. Today it was the “something else”. I’ve been forced to accept the fact that this darn knee problem I’ve been fighting for 2 weeks isn’t going to just magically go away. I’ve had several sessions with Airrosti, hoping that they could perform the same miracle they did with my ankle. After three sessions I was hoping that today I would be able to finish my speed workout. After just a little bit of speed work the pain became too intense to continue and I had to abandon my run.

After visiting the chiropractor, I’ve been informed that I need to stop running and biking for several days. I’d like to say that I have accepted this change without a lot of frustration, but wouldn’t be true. I am frustrated, depressed and irritated that this has happened so close to another race. That said, none of those emotions are productive. The right thing to do is accept my situation, map a course out of this, and move on.

I’ve spoken with coach, who is a life saver in these types of situations, and changed my workouts for the next couple of days. A few days of not running won’t kill me, especially since I can get in the pool and work. I’ve been thinking for some time now that the swim work is really helping my run endurance, so this could really be a positive.

So let’s strap on the gills and get after it!

Cripes, not again

About 10 days ago I ran the Warrior Dash, purely for fun. It was a 3.5 mile course with 10 obstacles interspersed. I don’t have any pictures, but my wife and I ended up covered in mud and had a wonderful time! I bring it up not to blog about it but to point out at the start of the race I felt some popping in my knee. It was gone about the time I hit the first obstacle and I never gave it another thought.

I noticed the popping several days later, only it didn’t stop. After several hard and fast miles it was pretty painful. I iced it thoroughly, and tried to stay off it for a couple of days until my next run. Interestingly enough, riding my bike made it feel better not worse. I was pretty hopeful that Sunday all would be well, and it was for the first few, easy miles. Once I picked up the pace, the popping started up again, and after only a mile I stopped running. Rather than walk home a mile, I decided I would try to run the remaining 3 miles but at a slower pace. That did the trick for the most part. No more popping meant the pain didn’t get any worse.

I came home and iced my knee for several hours. Still, it was very sore for several days. I called my old friend Airrosti Monday morning to get an appointment. My first visit was today. Because of the days off and the icing I had done, it wasn’t real sore today. It was hard for me to identify the exact location of the pain - though I was able to somewhat reproduce the popping I’d felt.


I’ve had a treatment, and plan to head out for a short run in just a bit. Tomorrow I have a harder run. Either the knee will hold up or the pain will return enough so that I can properly identify the sensitive areas.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a quick recovery and back out on the road. In the meantime, I’m going to really get after the bike and swimming legs.

Clubber Lane

Yesterday was my first workout after the weekend’s race. It was a nice easy indoor bike ride, just to spin out the legs. My racing bike is in the shop, leaving me to ride on my road bike, something I hadn’t done in months. I set up my bike in front of the TV, and found something to occupy my mind. This isn’t so much about the workout as what happened during the workout.

The movie I’d picked was Rocky III. I turned it on just in time to see Rocky get knocked out and Mick pass away. Now I’ve seen this movie many times. I remember watching it with my friends, and trying to do some of the workouts that Rocky did. I remember Rocky lost the first fight, got trained by Apollo, and then won the rematch. What I didn’t remember was the most important part of the movie, what Rocky was going through after the loss. I knew it as soon as I saw his eyes, and almost fell off my bike as the realization sunk in. I was feeling the same things: disappointment, doubt, despair, and fear.

I watched with rapt attention as Rocky struggled with his feelings, knowing he was losing this battle as well. It was finally his wife that snapped him out of his despair. I don’t remember exactly what she said to him (it certainly is worth a second viewing on my part to find out), but the gist was he had to get back the “Eye of the Tiger”, that driving force that allows you to continue when you are down and hurting.

I thought about that today while I was running. I haven’t had an epiphany to give me back the “Eye”, if I ever even had it, but I know what I need to do. I also have a face to put to the HIM: Mr. T as Clubber Lane.

Clubber, I want a rematch! My prediction: pain! And like Rocky I too will be victorious in the end.

There is no crying in Ironman!

Sunday, April 25th was my first attempt at a half Ironman distance triathlon. I gave it all I could, really I did, and came up a bit short, 9 miles short to be precise. The first thing I need to say is that this is a HARD race. In hindsight, I wonder if I underestimated its difficulty a bit. That is putting the cart before the horse; let me start at the beginning.

I woke up one morning last week with a scratchy throat. That had happened a few weeks ago and ended up being allergies so I thought nothing of it. I used positive thinking and everything else I could imagine to prevent or postpone the cold. While I was unable to stop the inevitable, my efforts did lessen its severity somewhat.

Race day came, and for me it was a couple of days too late in my cold cycle. I don’t know it for sure, but I do think I would have had a better chance had the race been shifted a couple of days in either direction. But, it was what it was and I was going to give it my all.

As usual I was worried about the swim. This was my longest open water swim ever, and it looked far. I had let that intimidate me in each of my previous races, but felt this time that not only I could do the swim, but I could do it faster than most of the people in my wave. It was a deep water start, which I hate, but I was glad to get into the water so I could pee and blow my nose. Man, did I feel better after that! We started and I just got into it. I put my face down, hit a groove, and focused on breathing and stroking. It was very physical out there in the middle of the pack. After taking a few good hits and kicks I decided to quit giving up my space and fight for it and started giving as good as I got. I remember one point where two people tried to squeeze me out, so I shoved both of them away and reclaimed my spot. It was a long swim, but one of my favorites ever!

The rest is pretty much a blur. I felt horrible on the bike: my stomach was upset so I couldn’t drink, my lungs hurt when I had to breathe hard, and my legs were fatigued right away. 3.5 hours is a long time to be alone with your thoughts when things aren’t going well.

I finally got off the bike and started the run. I don’t remember much of this either, other than I decided to walk after about 3 miles. I never ran again. A mental evaluation of my condition told me I was out of gas, dehydrated and overheating. I wasn’t able to stomach any GU, and barely a sip of water at a time. I got to a point where I wasn’t sure I could even walk to the next aid/water station; and it was then that I decided to quit.

Quitting was an easy decision, dealing with it afterwards hasn’t been. I know it was the right thing to do, but I was/am so disappointed. In hindsight, walking up to my family, still looking out on the course for me, was the most painful. I so wanted to be this stud that had competed and finished in this amazing race, only to walk up and say I’d quit was devastating. It is debatable whether I would have felt worse for them to find me in a gurney in the medic tent or a hospital bed.

There is no crying in Ironman. I might have shed a tear or two after the race (maybe that’s why I’m not an Ironman yet), but I have already moved on. I don’t believe there is any way I could have physically finished that race so I’m not going to emote over it. I’m going to savor the nasty taste that quitting left in my mouth and use it as racing fuel. In the future, when things are tough and I want to quit, I’m going to remember Lonestar 2010.

Mind what you have learned, save you it can…

This is probably my last entry before the race. I’m feeling surprisingly calm, so today I wanted to bring out the big guns. Something I’ve been saving since I ran across it months ago. I’ve been using this when I really felt nervous and it has really helped. If you were to see me race morning, looking out across the water, this is what is going through my head. It isn’t anything original, but who would have thought a darn puppet would be the one to help me through these last few days?

I believe the year was about 1980, and the puppet was Yoda. Luke Skywalker was leaving to try and rescue his friends. Sound familiar? Well it isn’t so much the scene as Yoda’s parting comments to young Luke: “Mind what you have learned, save you it can.”

As I look forward to the biggest race of my life, I have taken a modified version of this to heart. If Yoda were here today I think his comment would be a bit different, but the meaning is still the same. You have done the training. Focus on what you have learned and undergone, and it can get you through whatever is to come.

Coach, I hate to compare you to Yoda (even if you are shorter than I), but the analogy is there for me to grab. I hope you don’t mind that I use this as my mantra for this race! When things get really tough and I’m tired and wanting to quit, I will think of Yoda: “Mind what you have learned, save you it can.”

Bless you, my readers, for putting up with my dribble for these past few weeks as I slowly lost my sanity. In just a few days I will have an entirely different perspective on racing which I will share with you. I hope you enjoyed my journey!

Visualize this...

The day of my big test draws near, and once again I am starting to feel anxious. I’ve done everything I can to prepare, at least everything within my power. I’ve spent the past 8 months training harder than I’ve ever trained before. I’ve even took advantage of an injury to work on my mental training. So what’s the problem, why am I anxious, especially this far in advance?

The answer is quite basic and very simple: I don’t KNOW that I can finish this race. I came to that realization earlier this week, and I’m ok with it. I THINK I can finish, and for now that will have to be enough. Two weeks from now I will KNOW I can do it, now that is positive thinking! It is powerful, and I believe it is going to help.

Last night, as I lay down to sleep, I started thinking about the race. Instead of stressing about the things I didn’t know, I focused on what I did know. I saw myself standing on the shore and looking at the swim course. It looked long, and the water was probably cold. I put my face into the water, and just started swimming: three strokes and breathe. Every now and then I looked up to sight the buoy, and then kept swimming. I can swim this far, I know it, I’ve done it. And then I was done, the swim was over and I crawled out of the water! This is going to work, barring the unforeseen I will finish this race.

My plan for tonight is to visualize T1 and the bike. Hopefully I will fall asleep before I get to T2!