Triathlete In A Cubicle

Running on 1 wheel

2012-01-28T08:32:00.000-08:00

August 8. 2011. That's the last time I wrote a blogpost. Let's see, since then, I have signed up for a marathon, not raced a marathon, signed up for a 5k, 10k and Half Marathon, raced them all, signed up for another marathon and not raced it - yet. I have been to Mexico, UK, Poland, Germany and a few choice spots around the US. It's been a ride.

So I signed for the Long Beach Marathon and didn't race it. Had the opportunity to take in 2 weekends of Oktoberfest in Munich and, well, I took them. And while I did some amazing running through Olympic Park (or Olympiaparke or however they spell it), 4 daily liters, 4 pretzels, 4 brats don't really mix with marathon training. So I pressed pause on that goal and signed up for LA Marathon.

When I got back in the beginning of October I jumped into Crossfit and eating the Paleo diet. I found them separately but subsequently have discovered how closely linked they are. A lot of people do both.

Crossfit is basically short, intense workouts broken into 25% warmup, 30% strength (Olympic lifting) and the rest is that day's specific workout. You will almost never do the same workout twice. Now Crossfit is kind of culty-douchy. I thought that going into it, I still do. Yesterday we did a workout called Death by 10 meters in which you run 10 meters on a minute. Every minute you add 10. So there we are, grown ups in the dark, cold of morning, in an industrial parking lot, running back and forth. And by the end, there I was by myself running back and forth and people are watching and I thought to myself - if i wasnt myself, id punch me. That said...in 50 minutes you get a better workout than you can get on your own in 90 minutes.

And there is the Endurance component...so I have a coach for running. And the philosophy is similar - less is more. I run maybe 20 miles per week, but fast as hell. 100's, 400's, 1 or 2 mile repeats. And the results? 5k dropped to 18'17, 10k to 38'21, and this past weekend at the Carlsbad my Half Marathon went from 1 31'32 to 1 26' 34. My Achilles is pretty jacked up right now so I am resting but going sub-3 at LA Marathon in March seems well within reach. So, despite all the potential douchability of Crossfit, I recommend it. Just keep your shirt on.

And as for Paleo, gamechanger. My Paleo basically shakes down to eating these 4 things: animals, fruits, vegetables & nuts. That's it. And corn is very much not a vegetable or a fruit. Paleo refers to the notion that our bodies have not mutated genetically all that much since Caveman days. So why eat differently? And yes I have studied it at great length and yes there is all sorts of grey area and room for debate but it comes down to this - if you want to feel full, feel energy, smooth out those spikes that you get from eating starches and sugars, if you want to lose weight (maybe) but look very different naked, if you want have boundless energy and feel good - just read the Paleo Diet. Just start by reading it. And you will try it. And you will like it. And maybe you will read some Michael Polian, maybe you will log on to Mark's Daily Apple, maybe even get a little weird and try some raw foods, discover some new vegetables (kale chips and such), maybe you will start cooking Meatza (crustless pizza) or Paleo Beef Stew or any of the hundreds of awesome recipes out there. Or maybe you won't. But I'd bet you do.

Training, working, living

2011-08-08T17:37:00.000-07:00

Been down in San Diego for nearly 9 weeks now. Feels like 9 years. I just love this place. The people are great, the beaches and highways are much less crowded than LA; it's like a ton of my stress has just evaporated. Most days, I hop on a train in Encinitas w/ my coffee, read for what feels like 10 minutes and then BOOM i am in San Diego. I really enjoy my job and for the most part it doesn't come home with me, at least not unless I want it to.

But the training. Oh the training. Typical day is up at 415 and out the door for a 60-120 minute run on Coast Highway. Even in the dark I can "see" the ocean because the waves are crashing next to me. Training that early is tough sometimes, but I always feel so good by the end. And it makes for a better day.

Tuesday and Thursday are a bit more...intense. These are my interval and tempo sessions w/ the group. Last Tuesday we did 7 intervals of 3.5" each; all below 6' pace, last one at 5:25. That is just new territory for me. The fastest mile of my life is in the 5:45 range, so hitting sub 5:30, albeit for 3.5" felt great. I am making huge gains. And under Coach Lubinski's guidance I am being smart on my long Saturday runs. 16-20 miles at 8:45 pace, more or less. Slow and steady, all HR-based. I set the alert on my monitor to beep at 150 bpm, so I have a regulator. I heard someone once say (or read someone who once wrote) - the faster you can go, the slower you can go. True words. These long runs are building a crazy base, though I generally make my third to last mile some ridiculous pace like 6:30 in my 16th mile this past Saturday. Probably my sick mind but I just like knowing I have the speed.

My diet has been spot on. Have been on the Paleo diet, or some version of it, for a couple of weeks now. Without getting to deep into it, because I know plenty of people who will shoot holes in it, the way I approach it is to cut out anything I don't need and eat 3x more fruits & vegetables than I have been. Shortest example is my morning routine. I get off the train and walk to work. Halfway there is my coffee place and I usually get a morning muffin. Next to this is a fruit stand. So in lieu of the muffin I pick up fruit for the day. While I don't ascribe to any diet, really, I do believe in common sense. And I do believe that sometimes when we think we are hungry, we are just bored. An apple lasts a lot longer in our stomach than a muffin.

But anyway...that's that.

And I am back..no wait, now I am back.

2011-07-19T13:29:00.000-07:00

Blogging is tough business. The Facebook made social media so much easier. Sort of a "when you care enough about someone to type 2 sentences, but not much more" kind of thing. I could live with that. And when that got to be intimate, too exposed, too much work, along came the Twitter. As in "when you don't really care about anyone else other than that they know all about you" kind of mechanism. That I can live with. I like the Twitter. Eventually that will become too cumbersome and I will switch to Letter. Where you just type 1 character to describe what you did or how you feel. "A". About blogging. Blogging is such an odd convergence of anonymity and naked exposure. Look at me, while I remain behind this thick curtain. Anyway, also it is a pain in the ass to keep up with. But here I sit, typing.

I took a job 2 months ago with Ludus Tours, located in downtown San Diego. Not the easiest decision in the world professionally, personally, financially or logistically IN THE SHORT TERM but it is a real game-changer in the long term. Normally more of a here & now details thinker, I vascillated on this one. One day it made sense, then it didn't. But after my last "check is in the mail" speech from the United Football League, I was convinced and I moved down to Encinitas.

If you took all the good things about Los Angeles and the surrounding basin (by which I mean 6 things) and strip away all the bad things about the area (roughly 247 at last count) you would have San Diego and in particularly North County SD. It is just a great place. And I ride a train to work. Beat that.

From a training perspective Westlake Village was awesome (see "6 good things" listed above) and leaving my close knit group was tough. I almost literally came out of Ironman St. George with these people and then moved. In fact I accepted the job 2 nights before IMSG so it all happened very quickly. I miss running and riding around the Lake, I miss my Masters group & my Computrainer classes.

But...if you want to get put in your place as an endurance athlete, come on down to San Diego. Any given Saturday morning is a real who's who of runners & riders out on the highway. My work is a bunch of athletes, including a 2:40 marathoner who has almost as much gray hair as I do at 34. He's 34, I am not. I am a wretched 36 but look like Abraham Lincoln in 1865. Anyway, different topic. He runs w/ a hard core group on Tuesday & Thursday AM's at 5:30 and I have been getting out there.

Wow, I thought I was fast. It is hard to find hard core running workouts at 5:30am and it is also hard to find really fast people who aren't too fast (as in we are too fast for you, pedestrian). Sample workouts for the last 3 Tuesdays: (1) 2.5 mile WU, 3 x 6' at tempo pace w/ 3' between, 2.5 mile CD, (2) 4 x 6' at tempo pace w/ 2' between and today's little gem - 1 x 12', 2 x 6', all w/ 2' between.

I know a workout is challenging when it affects my sleep and these have been. I chew on them the night before and invariably convince myself I should pull back or ease into them and each time I am hitting new milestones - generally running 5:45-5:55 miles. That isn't necessarily uncharted territory for me but it is for the last year or two and I can definitely say I wouldn't be doing it without this group. Saturday was a 17 miler, finished w/ a 6:25. Awesome.

Why? I am signed up for the Long Beach Marathon on October 9 and will most likely add the Bulldog Ultra 50k, a 10k and a Half before then. Goal of Long Beach is sub-3 and sitting where I am sitting on July 19, I feel good about things.

We will begin shortly (on Sunday)

2011-06-03T14:02:00.000-07:00

Marathon training begins Sunday for the Long Beach marathon on October 9.

More to come.

What happens next

2011-05-11T15:51:00.000-07:00

After a few days to recover from Ironman Saint George, the swelling around my brain has decreased. They say 108 hours heals all wounds, so here I am. So now what do I think?

1. I am hungry and tired. I have eaten mainly hamburgers and nachos for the last 4 days. Also, I redeyed in to Virginia Monday night and subsequently went to bed at 1pm eastern and basically slept through to 8am this morning, 19 hours less a break for more nachos.

2. I am not hungry or tired. Meaning for now I am not hungry for the next challenge. Immediately after the race I pegged a 70.3 w/ Kona & Vegas slots and was ready to sign up. Right now I don't care. And I am not tired of not working out. It's quite nice, really.

Saint George allegedly killed a dragon to rescue a beautiful lady. The dragon represents wickedness, the lady God's holy truth. I neither killed a dragon nor rescued a lady Saturday. (fact check this paragraph at (www.google.com)

I didn't really acknowledge anyone outside of myself in my last post. First, my coach Jim Lubinski. Jim is one of my best friends and he took me on as a client after getting his license in December. He is insane. He is quite literally insane in a cool way, namely when it comes to training and racing. But he is also insane when you get to know him because of the capacity of his heart and ability to be nice to everyone. I owe him a great debt of gratitude for his coaching. He talked me off the ledge more than once, up until 3 days before the race when I caught the "itis" in my throat.

P5 Racing - namely Scott & Kari Davis. P5 is a rather intense group of folks whose main connection is Computraining out of the Factory in Westlake Village. I am not typically a social person and certainly not a social athlete. In fact triathlon and endurance running are the 2 socially acceptable places for me to ignore everyone. But I found a good group here and opened up to them. In turn my race day became much more about us and less about me. Even at mile 22 when I saw Mary catching me on the run and ran my last 4 near sub-7. Hey, it worked!

Michelle, Ryan, Morgan - I travel every week for work. I am never home. The rare time I am home I am training. So many times I would get off an airplane and quite literally change my clothes and go run or ride. To have my psuedo-family be so supportive of my endeavor was key. I would love to say that I wouldn't do something like this again, but I will and having support makes all the difference.

United Airlines - Without United...no never mind. F U United you are the worst example of customer service in the history of the world. I have flown 57,000 miles in the last 2 months and the worst part with frequent flying is that they have made flying so bad that when you gain status, the perks basically bring you back to even (decent seat, shorter lines & a meal). But seriously United Airlines sucks.

St. George - On a more positive, less ranty note, St. George is an amazing place. It is one of the most spectacularly beautiful places I have ever trained. I recommend it as a locale for a long training weekend and the people are genuinely kind and excited about the race.

Family and Friends - thanks to all of the people who reached out before, during and after the race. Makes you race harder (or finish) when you know people are watching.

So what happens next? Well, right now I am drinking a beer and eating boneless chicken wings. Then I am going to work and go back to sleep. After that I am going to wake up and see what the day brings. I am sure a long-term goal is going to come to me soon, but for now that is long enough.

12:05, aka How Everything Went So Very Wrong

2011-05-09T10:36:00.001-07:00

This blogpost has been written 12x over in my head. The first paragraph, and last probably were written 30 minutes into my swim and the rest was just filler that I inserted throughout the day. I knew from stroke 1 that things were very much NOT going to go the way I had planned them to and I also knew that it was probably going to be a fun day despite that (or because of it?)

The Day Begins

Up at 3:30, usual breakfast (coffee, oatmeal w/ peanut butter & chocolate chips) and on the bus to the swim start. Felt God awful from the second I woke up. Sore throat and heavy eyes. Actually fell asleep on the bus over. Not being a sound sleeper, this was a bad sign.

Off the bus w/ Ogle and took care of business. Cranked the tires up to 150 psi (this would be my first experience on tubulars), went to the potty one last time, into the wetsuit and got in the water. Seriously, it was that casual. I had no nerves and thankfully I have grown a thick enough skin to repel the typical d bag triathlete nerves. There is a ton of nervous energy in the morning transition area at any triathlon, but Ironman is douchebaggery of another kind because once you leave the area, that's it son. You are never going to be the same for the rest of your life, certainly not any time soon. Forgot sunscreen? Well, if you did the odds are you aren't experienced at this, meaning odds are you aren't very fast meaning odds are your skin is going to be out in the sun for 13-15 hours meaning odds are your ass is going to have tan lines that may just be life-long tattoos or 3rd degree burns. And so many other things like that. Forgetting your gels, not filling up your water bottles, maybe you decided to sabotage the guy's bike next to yours (more on that later) or whatever. That's the crazy that is Ironman.

Anyhoo, got in the water and stood there. And almost fell asleep standing up. Some girl starts gabbing and tells me how she had her pre-race beers and was feeling good. I just looked at her. Was she kidding? Then a guy next to me asked if I knew how many buoys we had to swim past? No. No I do not, I said. He laughed. I still don't know why he laughed. Then Born This Way (Lady GaGa) came on. I like that song, not ashamed to admit that, so that kind of woke me up. Then BOOM!!! The gun. Huh? I thought we played Ironman. Guess not. And the swim began.

Look, I worked my balls off at swimming. I swam 270,000 meters in prep for this race. Of all 3 sports I worked hardest at this. And I have to say I had the best swim I have ever had. I swam straight, I kept on people's feet, I sighted well, I hugged the buoys and I felt strong. Thing about an Ironman swim is this - it's not hard. It's really not. It is just mind-numbingly boring. Seriously I calculated that it takes about 5000 strokes to finish an Ironman swim. And that's all you are doing. On the bike you can look around, on the run you can encourage other people or drink, or wet yourself I suppose but in the swim you just pedal your arms 5000 times. It's truly boring. So I do math. I talk to myself - out loud. I threw up once. I peed 8 times - true story. I think, I relax, I do all of it. And again, best swim I have ever had. 1:16:25 out of the water. Worst swim time I have ever had. WTF? Two totally conflicting realities, but not really I think. Swimming just is what it is. I really wasn't pissed. I had so much energy left (theme of the day), ran to a stripper, got the suit off and into transition.

And in transition my day started going wrong. I sat down and started the most violent shaking and sneezing attack of my life. My nose would tickle, the sneeze would start and it was like I lost total control of every bodily function as a result. I lost count at 9 consecutive sneezes. I literally wondered if this was the end of Brian, there in a tent, in Utah, dead from a heart attack with only the number 927 as proof of my existence. Finally a volunteer came over and asked if I was ok. No, I am not. Please take these gels and this vile of salt tabs and advil in my back pockets I said. But what came out of my mouth was "JGOUFIYTDYITDYTTDHFDHJGCFHGGFDFKHGDFUKFCFUYFUYFYFUOYF". It was an odd exchange. But we worked through it and me and my shaking hands were out of the tent and onto the bike. 6 minute transition. Rad. Should have made it 8 minutes and gotten the scone with my latte.

The bike is 20 miles up and down and then 2 laps of 46 miles that are gnarly. This is a tough race course. It's actually easier than say Encinal or Latigo or any of the climbs locally but generally when we go out riding around here we don't ride 112 then run a marathon and also it isn't 90 degrees and furthermore we aren't racing an imaginary clock all day so this was a little more challenging.

For the first 30 miles I executed my plan brilliantly. I settled in, my heart rate was sub 140 and I finally warmed up. I felt great. Yes, I was fully aware of my horrible swim and T1, but I wasn't racing the clock yet. I knew I could do a lot more damage by trying to make up the time all at once than by racing smart. I also knew I could outrun those fools. Then it happened.

I had conquered the big hills with relative ease and was on the last climb at mile 44ish just before the special needs area and my back wheel locked up. And I mean it locked up. I hopped off the bike and figured it was my rear brakes squeezing my race wheels (the wheels have a larger profile than training wheels) so I pulled the calipers open. Nothing. I worked on it for 5 minutes and a woman asked me if I needed anything. I asked for an Allen wrench and she was nice enough to stop and give me one. Meanwhile all the d bags I had passed were passing me. Ugh. I took the wrench and opened the brakes as far as they would go. Nothing. I thanked her and didn't want to trash her race and off she went. Now 10 minutes had gone by. I'm getting pissed. And no motorcycle or tech support - double ugh. Finally me being me I took my brakes and proceeded to try to rip them off my entirely. Fuck it, I will do the rest of the race with no brakes. Never mind the 9 mile descent where I hit 52 mile per hour last time I was here. And thankfully I couldn't rip them up. Finally tech support pulled up before I threw my bike off a cliff. They got my rear wheel off and found the problem. Cervelos have horizontal drops and in the drop are 2 screws that keep the wheels from rubbing the frame. Mine had sheared clean off, almost like someone did it to me, or so they said. I doubt that. And these guys were awesome. They apologized for taking so long to which I replied "guys, if we can't laugh about having the last 7 months of your life slowing lose all their meaning because of a 5 cent screw that you can't repair and the fact that we are now wedging a rock in the place of that screw potentially meaning it may slip out when I am rocketing at 50 miles per hour trying to make up all of the time that I have not lost, what can we laugh about?" They didn't know what to make of that. But we wedged a rock in there to create a shim and after somewhere between 30-45 minutes, I was on my way.

Here is where I need to get honest. I was ready to quit. Kona was gone. But to even more honest, Kona was gone anyway. If my swim hadn't killed my chances, getting passed by not 1 but 2 people in my age group during the first 40 miles of a bike ride in which I averaged almost 20mph, well that did. I have to be honest, there are just people faster than me. No bones about it. So on that hill I decided 2 things. 1, I am not quitting and 2 I am going to ride this bike as fast as humanly possible. As in there is no marathon after this, just how fast can I ride?

So I took off and skipped special needs and bombed down that hill at nearly 60 mph. I was on deep race wheels and was getting blown side to side but I left it all out there. Passing people like a bat out of hell, I was screaming on your left so loudly yet at that speed they couldn't hear me. It was nuts. At the bottom of the hill where they tell you to slow down for a sharp curve I didn't and almost nailed the curb. I didn't care, I hammered. I haven't really analyzed the data but I would be shocked if I averaged less than 22 on a gnarly course. But at a price. I skipped food and water. My rationale was that I would hit special needs at mile 98, eat my pumpkin bar and drink my Ensure and recover for the run. Funny thing, though - you can't get your bag on lap 2! I was seriously bummed. "Oh but there is an aid station 2 miles ahead!" Is there really? Neat, do they have my pumpkin bar and Ensure, lady? And then I saw it. The trash can. The trash can with an old Ensure and pizza box. And yes, folks, I ate out of the trash. Old pizza and a hot, gross, half drunk Ensure. It was maybe the grossest thing I have ever done, but any port in a storm. And down the 9 mile hill again. This time, not so fast thanks to the gnarly head wind. Off the bike around 6:23 and into T2. About 45 minutes slower than expected, due entirely to a mechanical beyond my control.

Turned in my bike and grabbed my bag. On my way to the tent just threw the bag against the tent wall. I was fairly sick with myself at this point and decided I deserved to sit on the hot asphalt to change. Yes, I do operate the way. Changed on the ground and headed out to the run. Decent transition.

OK, the run. At the risk of exaggerating this run is the single hardest marathon attached to a triathlon in the history of mankind. I can't think of anything so difficult. Outside of 50 or so people in the entire race (such as TJ Tollakson banging out a 2:58 for instance) I doubt anyone did not walk decent chunks of this race.

And at mile 3 after getting a nice pace going, I was finally confronted with the reality of Ironman pacing. I had left it out on the bike. And the walking began. Mainly what happened was that I hadn't really eaten and also I couldn't breathe. And also it was 90 degrees. I couldn't breathe because if I took a deep breath it made me cough and almost throw up so every time I tried to run uphill, I started coughing violently. So I walked every piece of uphill, which was most of it. Ran the downhills though and interestingly I could repass the people who had passed me while walking pretty easily. At the turnaround I heard the name of one of my age group competition finishing the race. That broke was little of my spirit was left. Walked quite a bit more, made it to the top of the mountain and then I ran. Hit mile 22 and I took off. The numbers show that my last 2.2 miles were 7:03's. I did not pace this thing well.

Hit the finish line with little emotion other than thank God it is over. This was not a race; it was merely a thing to be endured.

I cried not at the finish line in tears of joy but in the eating area in tears of regret. In no way do I believe I would have qualified. I have the dreams of someone who trains 25-30 hours per week and the reality of someone who can train 15. That's just life. But my regret is of things beyond my control. That mechanical had such a domino effect on the rest of the day that I didn't have a chance. I am only proud of the fact that I did not quit. Triathletes, Ironman triathletes in particular, are always carrying on about how great and tough they are, about how they never give up and blah blah blah. Great, that is really great in the "good times". In the times when yes this race is hard but it is in your box and going according to plan. But how about when your FUCKING BIKE BREAKS FOR 30 MINUTES and you have some real decisions to make? Do you quit? What do you do? It is through adversity and genuine back against the wall stuff that we find out who we are. And I didn't quit. And yes I walked huge chunks of the marathons, but know what? I had more fun and take more pride in not quitting when I was no longer in any serious conversation and when I knew I had a 12 hour Ironman to explain than I take from any other race.

For better or worse, when I went to sleep Saturday night, I knew a little bit more about who I was and why I do what I do and I slept damn well.

But guess what Ironman? I will be back to kick your ass on another day.

Not much to say or do, really

2011-05-05T18:13:00.000-07:00

"The hay is in the barn"

"No fitness to be gained, just damage to be done"

"Nothing you can do to make it better, whole lot you can do to fuck it up"

I will take #3 please.

Checking in from St. George w/ 36 hours to race start. Got out here last night after a 6 hour drive with a nice gentlemen named Bryan, 10 minutes of it spent w/ a nice CHP officer, name unknown. We stopped in Henderson at my favorite eating spot, the Original Pancake House, breakfast for dinner.

Today was the day we were supposed to do nothing. Yet we did so much. Got up early, Starbucks and a swim in the reservoir. After suffering through a 20 minute swim in the water 3 weeks ago in 52 water, I was not necessarily excited to hop in. But I was wrong. It was warm and I felt strong. Put my head down and swam from buoy to buoy with ease. Very glad I did it.

Got out of the water, walked through transition and headed to registration where I checked in, got my numbers painted, listened to a pre-race talk by the guys at Endurance Nation and had breakfast for lunch. Tried to nap, then a quick 10 mile ride w/ Bryan to test out the race wheels.

A word on race wheels - Rolf TT85's. Wow. They cut through the wind and more than anything, it isn't that you fly that much faster but once you get going, it is so much easier to keep going. Between those, my aero helmet and the new Bento Box (thanks M, R & M), they are good for 10-12 minutes over 112 miles.

Oh, I neglected to mention the throat infection I woke up with yesterday. I felt like death, everything was sore. Thankfully I found a friendly urgent care doctor who prescribed antibiotics for me. 1 per day, he said. I will take 4. He thought I was kidding. But I woke up today feeling 75% better and my energy level is back where it is supposed to be 36 hours before a race. Wasn't feeling very good yesterday, but thank goodness I feel better.

So, we just had a BIG pasta dinner, tomorrow will be a BIG lunch and the rest is up to God, or whomever is in control of uncontrollable things. Because there isn't much I can do to make things better now but there is a lot I can do to fuck it up.

Go #927!

T - 7

2011-05-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

Race day is next Saturday. Somehow Saturday is 7 days (1 week) away from today, Sunday. Funny math.

Sitting at Norfolk Airport - 2 hours early - because I never seem to learn that this airport is not LA, Chicago, DC, JFK..., but it's good because I can write.

This past week, well this past year at work has been up and down. One minute the sky is falling, next minute we are sitting on top of the world. It has not been fun, especially for one who is already prone to ups and downs all on his own. But what it did this week was give me a chance to spend long hours with our Coach, Marty Schottenheimer. He is the 6th winningest coach in NFL history and came back to coaching this season because it is obviously in his blood. What I don't think is in his blood are budgets, spreadsheets & probably more than anything, the politics inherent in any work situation, especially ours. So it was an interesting week.

He has taken a real fascination with this Ironman thing I am doing. Each morning I would be finishing a run or swim, coming back in around 6:30, just as he was in the lobby with a cup of coffee and the USA Today and he would ask me questions about the swimming & running. But what will stick with me next week (and forever) are the ways in which coaching is just coaching. "Just keep putting one foot in front of the other" he told me 10 times, each time we talked about the race. And plenty of other coachisms as well. It's always interesting to see Ironman through the eyes of someone who doesn't understand it fully but who is interested (as opposed to the hundreds of people we talk to about it who listen but are clearly NOT interested!). So it is good to be home, but it was a productive week, I think.

Got some good training in this week and followed my typical pre race plans. Thursday night I took a yoga class, Friday got a great ride (spin) and run (treadmill) in. Friday night was the shearing. The shearing is a long process, typically 90 minutes, and involves 3-5 disposable razors (always the women-specific, much gentler on my sensitive skin). Medium run (75 minutes) yesterday. Today is a 2 hour bike on the schedule, but the schedule may not allow that today so there may a run substitute. And the rest of the week?

Might try to get some sleep tomorrow and get myself reacclimated to PST, Tuesday will be swim and light strength work then a quick drive to San Diego for work. Wednesday will be long course swim, albeit abbreviated, and the drive to St. George.

I was going to stay at a hotel but a spot opened up in the house where we stayed 2 weeks ago, so I will take a kitchen and living room over yet another hotel room any day of the week. Thursday will most likely be totally off (God help me at that point), Friday will be a swim in the Reservoir, followed by a quick run.

Before then, some pre-race logistics. Today I pick up my bike from the shop - had an 12-27 cassette installed in lieu of my 11-23 (ran out of gears climbing "The Wall") and Scott at P5 is letting me ride his brand new 808's.

And as for the race? Sure, I will put my goals out there to the world:

Swim: 1:12
Bike: 5:48
Run: 3:40
T's: 6:00

10:46

These are by no means my reach goals, nor do I think these will be terribly difficult to execute. But this is an honest course. No one is losing the swim because they can't sight, the bike due to drafting or the run due to any reason other than not being prepared to run up and down a really steep f'ing hill. Ironman Arizona? Hell, I saw 100 people drafting and I am sure I did too. Same in other races. Not here, though. This race is one of the ultimate tests of who you are as an endurance athlete and your ability to suffer. And suffer. And suffer. Because the bike by itself is a nightmare. If Satan was a race director, he wouldn't have designed this course. Too hard. But just when that is done, I present the run. There is a red rock hill looming over the town with white letters that say Dixie. I mean way up there. Guess what, kids? That is where we run. Not where we ride, where we run. I mean WAY up there. That is just not normal. But I suppose that is why we do this, because we either ARE abnormal or embrace the abnormal.

And we just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Even more reasons not to race Ironman St George

2011-04-20T07:07:00.000-07:00

My last post was speculation about Ironman St George and a little whining about all of the swimming, biking and running I have done to get ready for it. Now I have proof.

Flew from Virginia to Vegas last Thursday, drove 90 minutes to St George. To get there you pass through desert, through Mesquite which is the last gambling outpost in Nevada and then you climb up to 4000 feet or so and find yourself in St George, UT. I didn't know what to expect - a sleepy ghost town, a collection of fast food joints and gas stations for people to pass through on their way somewhere else? Instead I found a bustling little town with lots of restaurants, a nice Main St., grocery stores and a Starbucks.

I was meeting a group of 6 other people from the P5 training group out in Westlake Village. These are the people I ride the computrainer with and swim with many of them too. They are all doing St George and we are all around the same pace and fitness, which makes training fun. What is nice too is that they are all shooting for Kona slots yet don't take themselves too seriously (as in we still drank beers after training), so we were able to socialize as well.

I got there first and found the house we were sharing. It was known as the Thompson Mansion, directly across the street from Brigham Young's winter house. perfect set up with big kitchens and living rooms. I went for an hour run just to loosen the legs and found out later that I ran on the run course, by accident. Everyone showed up by dinner and our designated chef Vince made a Tex-Mex feast for the night, with enough leftovers that we put away 50 fajitas in the refrigerator to eat after training.

Scott laid out the training plan:

Friday: 2 mile pool swim built around 500 meter blocks, 30 minutes to eat. 100 mile ride consisting of 2 loops of the course (the course is 20 miles then 2 loops of 46) followed by a 5k at race pace off the bike.

Saturday: Meet at the lake, ride 1 full loop of the course followed by 90 minutes on the run course. Rest for a bit, then swim 1 loop in the lake.

Sunday: 1 1/2 loops of the run course, or 18 miles.

This was going to be a long weekend.

As I have said before, swimming and running are hypnotizing for me - I almost feel like I can sleep, even at quick paces. But long bike rides just wear on mentally. I am so tired of what to wear, how much food to bring, where do we stop and get water and then the actually 5 hours to ride 100 miles. Of course when Scott said we had said 6 hours to finish the 100 miles, I knew something was up.

And what was up was the course itself. The bike course has 2 main challenges. 1, the road itself sucks. There are sections where you can't think and you have to stuff your water bottles into your pockets so they don't fall off the bike. It is bumpy road. Then you enter an Indian reservation with a bit of up and down. But then comes the second issue. 2 hills. The first hill is short and not so sweet and then you level off a bit. Then you hit "The Wall". The wall is almost a mile straight up. When you hit the wall you have riding for around 40 miles (or 96 miles on loop 2). By the time you do it the 2nd time, your legs are toast - and you still have a marathon to run! Once you crest the wall, you have another 5 miles up and down, with 2 of the ups being medium length, medium steep climbs after the Veyo Pie Shop. On day 1 I didn't stop at the pie shop, because to be honest I don't really agree with stopping for pie when I am training, but everyone else did. Then came the reward. 9 miles of downhill.

This bike course gets a bad rap. Steep climbs, bad road but in the end it is some of the most beautiful country I have ever seen and there are 9 miles to rest your legs at the end of the ride. After doing 3 full loops of it, I learned 2 things. 1, I can get through it by pacing myself, and by not concerning myself too much with speed. Which leads to #2 - this is going to be a 6 hour ride. Way slower than I am used to, but from learning about watts and heart rate, I have learned that to have a successful day means staying within yourself. Too often people think they are going to train one way and then have a Superman effort on race day. Something they never thought they could do and never had done before. Typically not going to happen. So I have mitigated my expectations to expect a nice, steady 6 hour ride. If I beat that, great.

Then we ran. And thank God I went out there because the marathon is no marathon. The marathon is a combo of lunges, reverse lunges, squats and razor blades in your legs. It starts out running uphill then turns straight up. For 6 miles, 4 miles of it is straight up. It is unlike any run I have ever done. Around mile 5 or 6 you do little loops in this little park at the top of the hill, then turn around, climb some more and then you FLY downhill. My average pace went from 8:45 to 7:30 within 3 miles downhill. But the problem is that you then have to turn around and do it again.

By Sunday morning when I got up and did this run on legs that have never been so tired, with a sunburned face and shoulders, it was hell. To turn around and have to run a 2nd loop just kicked my ass. Again, it is all about smart pacing and staying within yourself. On Saturday's run I blasted out ahead of everyone for the entire run, probably finished 15 minutes ahead of them over 9 miles. But that is foolish and unsustainable. I forgot that they were all as fast as me, just being smart. So in Sunday I probably went a minute per mile slower and stayed well within myself. Again, I have to mitigate my raceday expectations. A 3:30 marathon is not going to happen. To shoot for that means going out way too hard and realistically exploding (or imploding) when I have to turn around and go back uphill for loop 2. So a 3:45 or 3:50 marathon is more likely.

And the swim. The water is cold, that's about all I can say. The swim is in a shallow reservoir that right now sits at 52 degrees. Because it is shallow and because the weather has been nice, maybe it goes up 1 or 2 degrees, but no more. So I am going to get a thicker swim cap and some booties.

In the end we all have to race the same course. After training all weekend with Kona potential athletes I learned that I can hang, but also that there is nothing I can do at this point. It really will just come down to things beyond my control. Maybe this guy or that guy races out of his mind that day, maybe this guy drops out or gets a flat tire or whatever. Maybe I come in 15th but 5 people don't take Kona slots and I steal one. Who knows? But I can rest comfortably now knowing that I have given my training 100%, followed Jim's plan to the T, gotten some solid time on the course, taken care of business and now I taper, try not to gain much weight and get ready to go back out there in 2 weeks.

Bonus: when I go back I now have 6 new friends to spend 11 hours with out on the race course!

Why you should never race Ironman St George

2011-04-10T17:16:00.000-07:00

Training for an Ironman is ludicrous. Seriously, it does not make sense. It is not so much about being an athlete as it is about possessing a capacity for suffering.

So you decide to do one, say Ironman Arizona, a wonderful entree into the ultra distance world. It is flat, it is fast and it is close to LA for good measure. But once that's done what if you want something a bit more, say, challenging?

I present to you Ironman Saint George. With its freezing lake swim, its 7500 feet of climbing (allegedly) and its spirit-breaking up and down run.

Maybe you say to yourself, hey I am looking to qualify for Kona and these times sure look easy. This is my ticket!

Suckers move. There is a reason why qualifying times are so low. There is also a reason why this suffer-fest is wide open if you want to sign up. Because training for it sucks.

My little race was 4 weeks away yesterday. 4 weeks to pack in a little more training, a little rest, a little recon work on the race course, probably add a little weight, suffer a little stress, all in all get a little more ready. But at 4 weeks out, my Iron friend Cortney would probably tell you, "the hay is in the barn". Indeed it is.

The past 8 days have been days of the cruelest suffering by training I have ever endured. By morning I felt like a 95 year old man hobbling around, daytime I felt like a vacuum sucking up every calorie I could get my hands on and at weight, laying in bed with my legs throbbing and strange new veins drawing a road map to nowhere, I felt like an alien in my own body. All this courtesy of a computrainer and my good friend Jim Lubinski.

It started last Saturday in Virginia. My flight home didn't leave until the evening so I got in my 15 mile run on the streets of Virginia Beach. Pace was strong, felt solid and of course put down 2.5 breakfasts.

Then came hell. Hell on wheels.

Sunday was a 5.5 hour extravaganza on 2.5 hours of sleep (my flight was delayed). 90 minute swim to a 3.5 hour bike to a quick 5k. Felt sick after that one.

Monday was a 90 minute swim to a 45 minute hill run in the morning. Monday night was 90 minutes on the computrainer putting myself through my own paces then the Monday night interval class.

Tuesday was 90 minutes of long course swim followed by strength training. Tuesday afternoon, 90 minute run.

Wednesday was a 90 minute computrainer session followed by epic 90 minute run in the afternoon. Ran up the big hill on Kanan Road that drops down to Troutdale, x 3. And this is when I began truly feeling like an alien in my own body. I was now entering new territory in terms of intensity, quantity and duration of training. I was also burning calories at a rate where I could eat anything and burn it quickly.

Thursday was a 60 minute swim followed by strength training in the morning,the swim including the fastest 200's I have ever managed, all sub 3 minutes. When i jumped in the water I just wanted to hang on for dear life, but I turned in a good session. That afternoon was 2.5 hours on the computrainer. Again, got off the bike not really knowing where I was or how to speak.

Friday was supposed to be 90 minutes on the Computrainer and it was. But at the end, a few of the guys decided to pop in 2 laps of Escape from Alcatraz (34 miles of hell). When was this all going to end? I went to eat breakfast and ordered 3 breakfasts, no joke. I ate it in minutes. It actually made me sad to eat at because I just wanted more. And an hour later I had to run 90 minutes. Each step was pure misery. By now my internal thermostat stopped working, my knees ached, my form was nowhere to be found and I just hung on for the run. Ate a filet mignon, desert, potatoes, bottle of wine, the works that night.

And then came Saturday. The day I had been dreading. Look, I can run all day. Literally. I have even come to love swimming. But what I won't miss at all about Ironman training is the long bike riding. And this would be the big one. 5 hours of hell. 5 hours of climbing in the Conejo Valley, a real grab bag of mountain passes and we hit most of them - Rock Store, Encinal, Latigo and just for fun - Mulholland home. All 9 miles of climbing. About half way up Mulholland I stopped feeling my legs. As much as I have become an efficient climber there comes a point where enough is enough. And crossing over the 300 mile mark for the week halfway up Mulholland I realized. Enough is enough. But I hit 90 miles for the day, got off the bike, ate a large pepperoni & mushroom, slept for 2 hours, woke up not really knowing where I was, ate pasta and 6 slices of bread, watched Wheel of Fortune and went back to bed.

And then came Sunday and a 2 hour run. All I can say is this - we strive for quality in our workouts, but there just comes a point where it is merely quantity. How much can we endure, how many steps can we take. I got to the point where I negotiated for 1 more minute, 1 more block.

So here is the tally for the week: 315 miles bike, 45 miles running, 13,500 yards swimming, 2 strength training sessions, 2 pizzas, 8 breakfasts, 1 achy alien body.

Don't sign up for this race. Seriously.

Doing "IT"

2011-03-31T12:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I got off a red eye into Virginia, grabbed a bagel, held 3 staff meetings, worked, conference calls, work lunch, more conference calls, checked into my hotel, rode for an hour and ran 30. Grabbed 2 fish tacos and went to sleep.

This morning, up at 4:30 eastern (that's 1:30 to those at home), masters swim at Virginia Wesleyan, breakfast, work all day, then a 90 minute run tonite.

Tomorrow more of the same and Saturday a 2:30 run on the boardwalk in Virginia Beach. In the rain.

Home all week next week, heavy training, back here in Virginia the week after then fly straight to Vegas & drive to St. George for one last big weekend of training.

Today I also got promoted (some may call it a jihad) to not only run the operations of our League, but all operations of the Virginia team as well.

Meanwhile, I still have friends & family in LA, a coaching business and a life there in general.

At the end of the day, we can all have anything we want in life, it is just difficult to have everything. Which got me to thinking about the place for Ironman training. Triathlon training is one thing. I firmly believe that anyone can train for and race a Sprint or Olympic triathlon. It really isn't that big of a deal. You could realistically complete a race of this distance with as little as 5 hours per week of training.

Half Iron? Maybe 8-12 hours per week. Not ideal, you would want to be able to log more miles and yards, but in the end it can be done.

Heck, even an Ironman can be FINISHED with 12 hours per week of training, maybe even 10. Look at swimming - swimming is highly time-consuming yet yields the least reward on the race day clock. I will probably have logged 150 swim hours when all is said and done and I may shave 5 minutes off of my last finish time. So there is room to reduce the amount of training time.

But, when you want to RACE an Ironman, it takes commitment. It means you give other things in your life less attention or no attention at all. It means changing aspects of your lifestyle, be it drinking, eating, late nights, commitments at work or with family, church on Sundays or the kid's water polo matches on Saturday. Something has to give. There are 168 hours in the week, a realistic 42 of which need to be spent sleeping, leaving you with 126 hours to work, eat, shower, train, socialize, be a good parent, a good spouse or mate, oh yeah, and relax.

So why do it? Well, when it comes to Ironman, the carrot is Kona. About 2300 people qualify for the Ironman World Championships held in Kona every October. This is the mecca, more or less the original Ironman triathlon. In order to get the expensive "privilege" of racing here, one needs to finish in the top 3 or 5 or 8 or 10 in their age group at any of the qualifying Ironman races during the year. Which place you need to finish in is dictated by the number of people in your age group at that race on that day as compared to the total number of entrants in the race. If there are 1800 people entered in St George this year and 300 of them are 35-39, then my age group gets 1/6 of the 65 slots, or 10.8 slots. I don't want to be that .8.

So I train alot. And I give up other things. Because I want to go to Kona. I don't know why but I do. It feeds me energy at the end of long days like today or early East Coast mornings when I have to get out of bed and drive to a pool I don't really know with a bunch of people I don't know in a city I don't really know.

Whether or not that makes any sense or is a valid enough reason to do all of this, I have no idea. And it doesn't matter at the end of the day. At the end of the day all that really matters is that I train hard, race intelligently and can smile at the end of the race. Maybe not right at the finish line, but eventually. Right at the finish line I hope to be throwing up.

Results

2011-03-28T18:47:00.000-07:00

You train and you train and you train and sometimes it just seems like you are the #1 exerciser. In my case, I targeted Ironman St George on May 7 because it wouldn't interfere with work (so i thought0 and because it is quite simply one of, if not the, hardest Ironman races there is. The climbing on the bike is one thing; the climbing on the run is quite another. But since December 1 I have logged almost 200,000 yards of swimming, 2,000 miles of biking and 700 run miles. I have lost 10 pounds, I have sacrificed, I have worried, I have enlisted the services of a great coach - Jim Lubinski - and I have actually really enjoyed the process.

But this past Saturday it was time to find out if I was a really good exerciser or race ready. And to do so, I would be facing stiff obstacles.

So as stated earlier, I thought May 7 was a good day work wise. Our season begins August and I thought my travel wouldn't begin until after May.

In the last 25 days I have logged 22,000 flight miles. Yeah, I misjudged that one.

So I had the race this past Saturday. The Showdown at Sundown, a race in Las Vegas widely regarded as the best training race for St George - lake swim, horrendous hill climbs, including the last 9 miles uphill (the last 4 of those STRAIGHT uphill), fierce headwinds and a run they called a "bowl". Downhill out, turn around, uphill back.

I had planned on taking an easy work week and making this race the last day of an epic training week. I was even going to drive out to St George for a few days' recon on the course. Not to be. To add some difficulty to the experience, I had to schedule a last minute trip to Virginia Beach that had me flying back to Vegas on Friday night, right before the race.

So being the logistical genius that I am, I drove out at 4am last Tuesday LA to Vegas, parked my car with my bike at the airport and flew from there to Virginia. I had one of the most taxing work weeks in a long time and oh, did I mention I was throwing up violently thanks to a sneaky little bug that I picked up somewhere?

Needless to say that by about Wednesday I was seriously considering dropping out. I couldn't hold any food down and I was spending my days in meetings and events and running 1000 miles per hour. I even tried to work out but had no legs, no juice. By Thursday I forced myself out of my hotel room into the local rec pool and tried to swim. I only managed 1000 yards before i had to stop in exhaustion. I did not feel good. That night I ordered a large pizza and ate the whole thing by myself.

Somehow I woke up Friday feeling a bit better and took off for Vegas through Philly. By the time I got to Vegas, though, I felt sick again. Checked into the room and was already late for dinner with some friends. Dinner was great but went until 9 or so and I was still on east coast time. Hadn't even gotten my bags from the valet yet, let alone started my race prep. Thankfully the race started at 12.

Woke up around 4am (still on east coast time), ate a big breakfast and got my race things together. Probably left about 5 things at home. Pretty hard packing for 2 simultaneous trips. Headed out to the race site around 930 only to find out that - wait for it - the swim was cancelled. I was not upset at that news! Apparently the water was sub-50 and the winds were pulling the buoys all over despite the 3 cinder blocks holding them down. We would only have a 56 mile bike and 13.1 mile run, with the bike starting time trial style, beginning with #1. I was #122.

This was a game changer. I grabbed a big sandwich and gathered my thoughts. T1 was obviously meaningless and also now I needed to warm up. So I went for a 4 mile jog and got ready. At 12:30 they started with #1. From there they went off about every 10 seconds. We started uphill and I saw how many people were in tough gears to start and how many people did not learn from the experience of those other people.

Finally my turn. And I was in the wrong gear. Nice. Thought I was in the right one. But off I go - and it is MATH TIME NOW. I was 122. Set a goal of +75 people to pick off. In other words every person I pick off is +1, every person who picks me off is -1. The first 40 miles were cake. Picked off 50 people, got picked off by 1 and held 21. More than that my pedal strokes felt round, held consistent power despite the wind and could smile. Then hell came. In the form of wind and hills.

By now it was 2:45 ish and the winds were howling. Also we had mountains to climb. Now the mind games began. 21 mph became 20, then 19, then 18. With 4 miles to go we moved to a bike path on which I was happy to literally hold 5 mph. But I was passing people so I moved from worrying about speed to worrying about conserving what I could for the run and picking more people off. I got another 10 or so during that 4 miles. With 1 mile to go I dropped my chain. Nothing like dismounting, getting your fingers covered in grease and then restarting up a hill. Brilliant. But back on the bike and finally the hell came to a merciful end.

But then came Heaven. For you see, the results would bear that I had the 9th fastest bike on the day. But what they really show is that I could run. Fast. Caught a guy in the first mile and struck up a conversation. Had a feeling he was training for St George and I was right. We ran 5 miles together chatting. We held 7:50's and the thing is - I could have run all day. I felt amazing. Finally at the turnaround, I told him I had to see what I could do. I easily could have held that pace (52:30 at the turnaround of 6.5 miles) but I wanted to see what I really could do. The course is a lot like St George and I want to hold 8's there, so what could I do?

Fast is what I could do. I covered that back half in 45:30, around 7's. It was one of those days where you knew you had it. Not one person passed me on the run but I passed dozens.

In the end, for a race that I was not targeting, on a day of adverse conditions against strange odds of being sick and travelling, I banged out a 2nd place finish in my age group and finished 10th overall.

I just got a promotion at work and have enough on my plate to consider dropping out of St George, but not now. The results in Vegas have given me that last boost I needed to dig deep, gut out the next 40 days, swim another 30,000 yards, ride another 400 miles, run another 100, head out to St George in 2 weeks for one last big weekend and to set this thing up to put it all on the line on May 7.

And that's the takeaway from this past weekend. I put it all on the line. On the bike, I suffered. I hurt. I sweated crocodile drops. Yes, I peed on the bike - alot. And on the run, I left it all out there. The kind of run where you count meters by mile 10 and your IT bands feel balsa wood ready to splinter. I woke up Sunday totally depleted. I ate a large pizza and was still starving. THAT is how you know you raced.

And after all of this training, all of this prep, and all of my bluster, I am going to set myself to succeed or fail on my own terms on May 7. But honestly, just showing up this ready, this prepared and this excited - well, that is success enough for me. The rest is icing on the cake.

Red Eyes

2011-03-13T22:00:00.000-07:00

Awesome few weeks, even month or so of training. Looked back on this particular week and I put in 16,000 swimming, 35 running and 155 biking, along with 2 great strength sessions. Feeling exactly where I want to be for my Half Ironman in Vegas in 2 weeks and Ironman in 8 weeks.

Sitting in my 3rd home, the Red Carpet Club, United terminal, LAX. My routine last year was leave Agoura at 3:50, get to LAX by 4:40, breeze through security and be the first in line for the Club to open at 5. I then had 12 minutes to get a bowl (or 2) of corn flakes, eat them and mix up a cappucino w/ a double espresso shot, get to gate 70B for the 6am flight to Denver. On said flight to Denver I would be served the deliciously addictive egg mystery frittata. Land in Denver around 10, on the 11am to Omaha, Avis counter at 1:10, Chiptole on 72nd & Dodge by 1:30, get to the team office by 2:15. Quite an action-packed 8 hours. Quite a calorically packed 8 hours as well, in the 3500-4000 range. I like the chips at Chipotle.

This year is different. For starters, I am on a much tighter budget - as a League, as an individual and calorically as well, as I enter the 2 months and counting mark for Ironman St. George. I hit 171 pounds around Halloween. My last big race - Ironman Arizona - I raced at 164. Over this past winter I got myself down to 156. I have settled in at 160, though, and I intend to keep it that way.

So what's the routine now?

Train heavy each weekend - 75 mile ride yesterday, 16 mile trail run and 4000 yard "open water" training (in the pool) today. Calories burned this weekend: 9000. Calories taken in: 7000. Also training with wattage on the bike 3 days per week and swimming 12,000.

As for work, it goes like this: leave Agoura around 9pm for LAX. Park further away in the cheaper lot, take the rickety shuttle and get to the Red Carpet Club for celery stalks & carrot sticks. Get on the 11:30 red eye to DC, land at 7:30 (usually early). Rush to the Red Carpet Club for the same cappucino & double espresso but now eat the blueberry fiber muffins (80 cal) i actually pack in my bag. Get on the 8:30 to Norfolk, hit the Alamo counter and wait for the shuttle to take me to my much cheaper rental car. From there, head to the Westin for our 11am staff meeting. I have a Masters swim group I joined and try to hit that twice during each 4 day trip. At night where I was eating steak dinners and sipping red wine last year, I am now grabbing a 60 minute treadmill workout and hitting Chipotle (this time, sans chips).

It ain't easy traveling. The thing about "Up In The Air" that made it such a good movie for me was that it captured the essence of being on the road all the time - it makes you perpetually uneasy. You aren't exactly happy when you are traveling and you aren't exactly happy when you're home. It isn't that you're unhappy in either state, it's just that they are so very different. Traveling is especially unfulfilling and challenging when you are training for an Ironman. But that could apply to anyone who just wants to stay in shape, physically and mentally. It is a grind. And the double edged sword of frequent travel is that as you travel, you get upgraded. And getting upgraded means free food (junk) and free alcohol (silent killer if you expect to sleep OR maintain your weight on the road). The trick is to have a plan and stick to it. This means having a schedule, bringing food when needed and remembering that time ticks by SO SLOWLY in an airport or on an airplane. Everything is hurry up and wait. Get there 2 hours early. Board first! So you can sit there and get bumped 127 times for 40 minutes. Oh, and the delays. The delays are great.

But I will say this. It is not impossible. It is not impossible to swim for 90 minutes, to run for 150 minutes, to eat well, to get on a plane and fly all night with limited, jolted sleep and to get up and be effective at work tomorrow. And to train tomorrow. It isn't impossible. It isn't impossible to race a successful Ironman under these conditions. In fact it is very possible. Because I have been on the other side - the unemployment side. I trained for and raced an Ironman while unemployed and eating up my severance check and I can tell if I have the choice, I will take this challenging schedule EVERY time.

The Anti-Social Network

2011-02-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

I saw "The Social Network" a couple of weeks ago on a Friday night. I sat on the couch for an hour afterward pondering life. I do that sort of thing.

There are people in life who just know what they want to do from an early age. I am thinking of young athletes with parents who drive them to practice or young Asian kids who drive them to be doctors, that sort of thing. This is probably the minority of people, at least in the argument I am constructing here.

Then there are those who never figure out in life who they are or what they want to do/be. They wander. They show up each year at Christmas with some new scheme about this or that. They probably don't buy you a Christmas gift. Oops, did I reveal too much? Realistically that is a minority as well.

Then there are the rest of us. We follow a certain path, making certain critical decisions at certain critical decision points - which high school to attend, if you have that choice, which college. Maybe even IF to go to college, who to date, who to marry, if and when to have kids, etc. The point is we don't start off with an end in mind but we do have a certain map to follow, as it has been followed by those we follow.

This was my path. Went to a good high school, went to a good college, left said good college after some f'ed up choices (nice to meet you, Mr. Beam) and ended up at a better college. Chose the road less traveled in an internship with a start up professional start up league which launched a series of choices and opportunities. I didn't grow up saying "I want to run the Operations for a professional sports team and league", but that is just where life took me and I am good at it and I like it.

So fast forward 10 years or so and I sit on a couch watching a movie about a singularly simple, albeit not overly elegant idea and a slightly drunken kid who became the world's youngest billionaire as a result.

And so I think. How is it possible that I have not had 1 - not 1 - similar idea. Interesting question at the core of the movie, of course - was it his idea?

This is relevant to me because I may not have had hatched any 1 particularly good idea but I am fairly brilliant at taking other people's ideas and executing them. Or taking any existing system and making it better. The thing about that talent is that it doesn't really pay millions. Well, millions of pennies.

What does this have to do with triathlon? Well, I will tell you. So work is slow for me these days, no traveling and with tumult at the Executive level, I am laying low, giving me 2-3 hours per day for training. So I train. A lot. What's an average day?

4am - wake up, coffee/muffin, send emails and get caught up
5am - swim
6:30 - workout 2 (run/swim/core)
9-12 - work
Lunch - workout 3
2-530 - work
830 - Bed

And this is pretty nice. But I am never happy. When I am training I am feeling guilty about not working more. When I am working I am thinking about training and could I be doing more?

But the real debate is larger than that for me. There is the select few in this country that are billionaires and millionaires. I look at them and think I want that. I feel like I deserve to be there, should be, could be and either through poor choices, lack of ability or whatever, I am not. Then again, I look at my life - nice salary, free time, autonomy, friends and loved ones and feel pretty good. But I oscillate between the 2. I want both.

Not sure how that is possible. But I just finished reading the story of In N Out Burger and took some comfort. Both In N Out Burger and McDonald's were founded (in McDonalds' case "refounded" by Ray Kroc) by men at the age of 38. So on that token I am going to lay low and train for 2 years and at 38 I should have it all figured out...

Moving Mountains

2011-02-13T08:07:00.000-08:00

Last blogpost I talked of running up and down a hill 12 times.

Forget hills. We have moved on to mountains.

Yesterday's plan from Coach Jim called for a 4 hour ride followed by a brisk 30 minute run. This was nothing 2 years ago but to be honest this was the first workout during this new bout of training that caught my attention, that made me a bit nervous. The kind of feeling where you end up reconfiguring your iPod, making sure your clothes and food are laid out the night before, the first workout that required any sort of planning. Four hours is anywhere from 60-90 miles, that is a long way and 4 hours is the beginning of distances where you have to think about a second round of food and water. There are no aid stations on training rides.

So I mapped my ride on www.mapmyride.com the night before. Leaving Agoura I would head south to Las Virgenes, down to Mulholland, up to Topanga, turn around, out to Westlake and over Portero, turn around and back to Westlake, around the lake a few times and home. You may wonder about the words "turn around" and why they appear so frequently. One of my many little tics is that I don't like getting too far from my starting point when I am solo, in case I break down or bonk.

So I took off at 7 and at mile 2 I couldn't feel my hands or feet. It was 40 degrees and I was headed downhill. Ouch. Bad way to start. Hit Mulholland and the road turned up and I felt slightly better but could barely hold 15 mph. Everything hurt and it was only mile 10. Then I hit Stunt Road. I have heard of this Stunt Road but never tried it. But I needed climbing and I need uphill because downhill was too painful so I made the right to head up the hill.

That right turn made all the difference (shout out to Robert Frost).

I had 0 idea what to expect here, didn't know distance, elevation gain, nothing. I just knew that uphill didn't hurt. Until it hurt.

After 2 miles of climbing - straight up - I saw the paint on the ground. 4K. 4K? Hmm. Does that mean 4K gone by or 4K to go? (4K = 2.48 miles). Kept climbing. 3K. Oh lord, 1.86 miles to go? But now it was me versus gravity versus math. And it was on. 2K. 1K. Stop sign at the top.

Anyone who has ridden with me knows that I hate to climb and I am not very good at it. But this climb went well. Hit the top, had a Snickers bar (that's right) and descended towards the ocean. At Tuna Canyon (wink wink), said F it, turned around and climbed 3 miles back up to the top. Went back down Stunt 3 miles, turned around and climbed it again. Hours later when I would load this new route into www.mapmyride.com I would learn that I climbed 4500 feet and that Stunt Road is classified as a Cat 2 hill (hills are classified from Cat 5-4-3-2-1-HC, which means beyond classification). Cat 2 is pretty damn good!

Hit Mulholland a new man. My legs were broken but my spirit felt renewed. St. George is a hilly damn race but will pale in comparison to what I just did. Crushed Mulholland at 22 mph, crossed over Las Virgenes to take mulholland all the way to Cornell, an up and down ride and held a good clip. Hit Agoura Road, to Westlake, 2 loops around the lake at 23. Only talk about the speed because I am shocked at how good I felt. Took Westlake to Portero, up and over, back to Hidden Valley, turned around and headed for home. At mile 65, took a gel (still had a run to do) and it went down the wrong tube. Immediately gagged it up and my breakfast came up with it. That had never happened before, the throwing up on the bike. Random and it left that horrible post-throw up taste, but I had 5 more miles and a run, so I took another gel, which stayed, a lot of water and headed for home. Hit home at 4 hours/70 miles, jumped off, changed and out the door for a run in 1 minute.

Now this was uncharted territory. Up until now there have been a few bricks here and there but nothing at pace. Also no runs after a ride like that because I have probably never done a ride that hard, except for 1 ride to Lake Arrowhead which had a lot of stopping. This had been an all out pace ride.

First 100 steps were running on a combination of rubber and razor blades. Muscles were rubber and joints were razor blades. Awkward and painful.

But then it clicked. Mile 1, 7:30. Mile 2, 7:15, Mile 3 7:00, Mile 4 6:30. This was down Kanan which is up and down, not flat.

Headed home, went to the burger place next to my house and ate 3 hamburgers, 2 fries and a coke. Had basically the same for dinner. Ate 6000 calories for the day and still didn't match what I burned.

There are days in training that you just go through. They are important. They are singles or doubles in a baseball game, a 6 yard run on 1st down in football. Not sexy but very important. Then there are days like yesterday.

Yesterday was a home run, a touchdown. Next epic training day I will draw strength from yesterday, and when I race I will remember it.

Today is a 2 hour run, a 2 hour run on these broken legs. Maybe it will just be going through the motions for 2 hours, maybe it will be another breakthrough. But every workout builds on the one before it and every workout has a purpose - if you do it with purpose. And so the journey continues...

February 9, the day I ran up and down a hill 12 times

2011-02-09T11:08:00.001-08:00

Sorry to be so cryptic in my post title. what this means is that today (February 9), I ran up and down a hill 12 times. Well, to be fair I actually started the day with a swim. I have been swimming a lot (for me) this year and last Friday felt the earliest twinge of pain in my right shoulder. Fridays are Fast Fridays, meaning shorter distances (but longer overall distance) at faster paces/intervals. I have graduated to the fast lanes on the short days, and we swimming 25's and 50's basically on 25 seconds and 50 seconds, respectively. Very fast and felt very good but we immediately went from about 40 of those into sets of 400 pulling and I think it was probably just a bit much and I started to feel numbness in my shoulder.

That was Friday, swam again yesterday and felt better, swam today and felt even better. Today's main set was 300 pull, 3 x 100 swim, 200 pull, 2 x 100 swim, 100 pull and - you guessed it - 100 swim. The swims were flat out how fast can you go. Turns out I can go pretty fast, banging out a 1:24 on my last one. Swimming is a fickle mistress, though. What works one day in training may not work the next and certainly what works in training may not work come race day. So I keep at it, hoping against hope that after 15,000 yards per week, after 250,000 yards overall, my muscles will remember. My stroke will stick and I will shave 5 minutes off my previous 2 Ironman swim times. Low return on investment? Maybe. But the dividends that swim fitness pays on the bike and run are hard to quantify. If you can hold your breath for 30 seconds swimming, if you can expand your lung capacity, if you train at threshold for an hour or more with none of the impact or residual soreness of biking and running, then you have done a lot more than just become a faster swimmer. You have become a faster triathlete.

As for that hill. St George is a hilly, hilly run course. So I found a hill locally that I dread and each week I run up it 12x for 30 seconds each. And each time I try to go further. And each time I want to vomit.

But each week I am faster and fitter and lighter and feeling better. And that's the point...

A Comedy of Errors

2011-02-06T15:00:00.000-08:00

Halfway there. Just 1.5 miles. Heck, even if I slow down that is only 10 minutes. How bad can it be?

OK. 9:45 to go. No problem. Just slow down a little bit, you will be fine.

OK 9:38 to go, you might be ok. Are they passing me?

Ugh, I am not going to make it.

STOP

Find somewhere to hide. 15 seconds later and I am fine. And away I go.

So today was the Redondo 5k & 10k. Please forgive the graphic nature of this blog. Anyone who knows me knows that there are just some topics that are taboo, but there is nothing I can do about it. I cannot tell the story of today without a little bit of disclosure.

Today started off odd, really starting off yesterday afternoon. Laid my head down after a long day of training at 3:30 and woke up at 8:30. Totally disoriented and also starving, I knew I was screwed. Here I was at 8:30, hungry and now awake. Fortunately got sleepy again and went back down at 10, only to wake up at 3:30. Not the most restful way to go.

Michelle and the kids were running the Baby Buggy 10k, so we left around 6am to try to get there by 6:45. I thought that would be plenty of time. I was wrong. Had to hurry from the parking lot to pick up my bib(s) and timing chip(s) and line up for the 5k.

Line myself up at the front, gun goes off and away we go. The course is fairly flat mile 1, uphill to mile 2.5 and downhill home. Mile 1 was fast, 5:36. My goal was 18:19, 5:54 miles, so I was feeling good. Then it started. The rumbling in my stomach. Mile 1.25, still flying under 6 minutes, legs felt great but the rumbling transferred from my stomach to my lower abdomen. Had to slow down because felt like I was losing control. Dropped to 6:15 miles. Dropped back from the first chase pack to the 2nd. Then the 3rd. Hit mile 2 at 11:40. Still good, still on target but disheartening because it wasn't the legs or the lungs, but the problem traveling from my stomach to my lower abdomen and now lower. At mile 2 I knew I had a problem. And a decision to make. I was seriously risking seriously gross issues if I kept up the pace. So I stopped. There are no porta potties on the course so all I could do was settle the stomach down, which happened within 10 or 15 seconds. And with 3/4 of a mile to go, I took off. Crossed the finish line at 18:31, 12 seconds behind my goal but probably 30 seconds slower than possible.

Met Michelle and the kids and they lined up for the Baby Buggy 10k. I looked down at my shoe and they had taken both chips off my shoe. Now I was screwed. Michelle gave me hers and I decided to run this race instead of waiting the extra 15 minutes for the 10k. My thought was that I would race this race, turn around and meet them, probably around mile 4 or 5.

Gun goes off and I take off. Now I have done more than a few races in my day and I have never been in the lead for the race. I have always raced against people or against the clock, but not against the motorcycles. But today was a first.

Hit mile 1 at 6:10, right where I wanted to be and there were probably 10 dads with strollers in front of me. Didn't think too much about it. They all looked fast and typically in these situations, everyone speeds up together and a few people break away and I end up in the chase pack. But...

Hit mile 2 at 12:00 and now there were 3 of us in a group and 1 person about 30 seconds ahead. And I was pulling away. OK, now this is awkward. If I was one of those dudes I would wonder who this douche bag with exactly 0 baby buggys was running with me and my baby buggy. Finally I took off my earbuds and told them that I wasn't in the race and that I felt douchy for being there. Not sure that made it any better, certain it didn't make it less weird, but it made me feel better as I broke away from them. By mile 3at 17:58 I was in sight of the motorcycle taillights and got a boost from it. Found another gear and dropped into about a 5:45 mile and was right behind the #1 guy. But now what do I do? I can't pass the motorcycles, I can't pass the top guy, that is just lame. So, hit mile 5 at 33:ish and saw Michelle running the other way. Jumped the barricade line and the 3 miles left with her.

All in all, it was a good day. After 10 years or so of doing the race, it was something to (a) be near the lead, (b) to have an unexpected bathroom break, (c) to to run that much faster in my second race than my first, but most interestingly to spend the day with 2 kids. I spent so much of my life by myself so to share an experience that it is common for me with a woman and 2 kids who it is so uncommon for was an experience. Fun day, feeling fast, definitely want another crack at a real 10k in the next month though.

Oh and they downgraded from Sapporos to Michelob Ultra at the finish line party...:(

Wtsitmn

2011-02-03T19:17:00.000-08:00

I got a new car last week. Correction I bought a new used car last week. I have always wanted a Range Rover but given my current economy, the only way I could enter this market was to get a pre-Y2K model. That's ok. But it is the first time I have ever considered a personalized license plate and the blog title was one of my options.

It also speaks to my present mind space. What does it mean?

I am 2 months into training for Ironman St George, 3 months out from the race. I am 2 months and 2 days removed from 6 months of intense, weekly, national coast-coast travel. I am a year removed from the text message that came on Super Bowl Sunday offering me this job, a job which I was supremely qualified for, a job that I never would have gotten if I hadn't supremely fucked things up in my life 5 years ago last week. I am also 27 months removed from Ironman Arizona where I put on the best show of my personal athletic career. I am also 15 months removed from guiding Max to an amazing, emotional finish at Ironman Arizona which carries with it its own bag of emotions considering the subsequent 15 months of his life. On top of all this, I am 112,250 swim yards & 1109 bike miles & 303 run miles into my training, only leaving me 87,750 swim yards, 1391 bike miles & 697 run miles shy of my goals which should get me to a 1:10 swim, 5:40 bike & 3:40 marathon on May 7 which should put me in Kona, HI on October 8 if I swim, bike & run faster than 299 of the 308 men aged 35-39 in my age group and if that happens I may just get the opportunity to race against a man with 1 ball.

Whtsitmn though

I like a lot of things. I really love my job, for instance. I oversee all of the operations for a professional sports league. I spent every Monday or Tuesday morning last year, pretty much, on the 6am flight LAX-Denver then Denver to Omaha, Hartford or Orlando. I was the lone wolf and I got things done. I taught myself the deeper, finer points of programs like Excel & Visio, I met with mayors and coaches and as my boss once put it - I was like a soldier dropped behind enemy lines with nothing but a knife and a string. I wrote an 80 page manual. I loved it. So there was that.

I quasi-inherited 2 kids and learned values like patience, understanding, slowing down, listening, selflessness, sacrifice and unconditional love. I went for less runs and more coffee filled Sunday mornings. I loved it. There was that too.

I love learning and higher education. I enrolled in a Six Sygma course, the epitome of operations, structure, organization and to a lesser extent, leadership. I taught myself and aced it. I loved it.

There always has been, and probably always will be, triathlon. It fuels me and at once drains me. It gives me so much satisfaction while at the same time makes me want more, more more. I trained 5 hours today. I have lost 15 pounds. I am obsessed. I want to go faster, farther, longer. If a little is good, more is better. I like the veins in my arms, my abs, my legs, hell I am expecting a vein in my head soon.

in the end, whtsitmn

Seriously. I look at some people - 2 people in my family come to mind - and they know exactly what they want from life and always have. They are good at those things, they do them day in and out and are reaping the rewards.

Me? I feel like the proverbial jack of all trades, master of none. All talent, no direction. What's the end result? Something about triathlon, specifically the Ironman training tends to lead me to these deep thoughts. Maybe I am just hungry, I don't know, but the whole thing just makes me question the point of it. In the end, what do the hours and hours of training and the sweat and the talk and the runs and the rides and the swim after swim mean? I just don't get it. Just like I don't get people that do the same thing day in and day out and remain so damn upbeat and optimistic about it. I don't understand it. I am a restless soul and there never seems to be enough of anything to calm that down.

But I do like to ride my bike fast.

The Right Fit

2011-01-30T19:38:00.000-08:00

This was a recovery week. Ended up at 13 hours of training this week, down from 16 the last 4 weeks. I have never been one who recovered properly; maybe it's that I am 36, maybe it is that I spent so much time prior to my first 2 Ironman races injured, maybe it is just having a good coach, but I am trying to take a more scientific, less egotistic approach to this race and listen to my body. It was nice to rest.

This week I swam Monday, Wednesday (x2), Friday and Sunday, for a total of 14,500 yards.

I rode trainer Monday & Wednesday, rode 3 hours outside Thursday.

I ran 2 hours yesterday and 1 one other day.

2 sessions of strength circuit. Therein was my 13 hours.

This week there are 15 hours on the docket, including 2 2 hour trainer rides as well as the Super Bowl 5k & 10k, back to back, on Sunday. That race(s) may be my favorite, mainly because they were the first ones I raced 10 years ago. I had maybe done 1 race before that and I showed up for the 10k, ran all out for 3 miles, threw up, walked a bit and staggered to the finish. At the finish they give you 2 beers and I was toast. Awesome. Last year I won my age group in the 5k but didn't sign up for the 10k and ran anyway, finishing under 40. That race is a great barometer of early season fitness and drinking fitness.

But that isn't the point of this writing, it is about finding the right fit. And I have thrice over.

First, literally. Anyone who has ridden with me has seen that my bike set up is hyper aggressive, where I am literally facing down as I ride. Very aero, slightly painful, pretty fast. To be honest I have never wanted a "lazy" set up (read: comfortable) because I generally think the more I suffer the better. Then I got fit using the ReTul system, which is basically a series of sensors hooked up to 8 different places on your body as you ride, sending a picture of you to the computer screen, and constantly taking and retaking angles and measurement. Simply put, I had it all wrong. I had my bars raised 2 spacers, then tilted up, had my seat raised 4 millimeters then slid back and I switched saddles to the Adamo saddle with the split down the middle because - pardon my crassness - I couldn't feel my balls at the end of a 3 hour ride.

I hated the look of it. It looked like a recumbent bike like the old guys ride with the big orange flag and rear view mirror. It seriously made me think about putting a basket on it and wear patent leather shoes with a giant lollipop. But...i went out for a 3 hour Portero Canyon-Lynn-CS Channel Islands and back loop which anyone who does it knows it is GNARLY. lot of climbing. I went from averaging 16 mph before the fit to 19 after it. No, this was not a properly controlled scientific test but yes I could breathe. That, at the core, was the issue. I was compressing my lungs into a ball and couldn't breathe. It is an amazing difference.

Next up is Conejo Valley Multisport Masters and specifically Coach Nancy Reno. I got into this group through Jim Lubinski and have been hammering away, around 12,000 yards per week for 2 months. In an earlier post I talked about my improvement, but today I swam 1:29's which is the swim equivalent of a 5:00 mile for me! I get better each week but more than speed, I get into the water feeling confident and strong and get out happy I had been there. Coach Reno and all of the coaches are just nice, they are attentive and they are not afraid to stop us at any point, correct our form and basically aren't just there to give us a 3,000 workout for an hour and go home.

The final fit - my coach Jim Lubinski. If you don't know the guy, check out his blog. He is f'ing crazy. But the cool part is, is that he is also perfectly normal. He has a job, a regular life, friends. Hell, the guy even played on a softball team while doing everything else. He is also a hell of a loyal friend who never held it against me when I dropped out of sight in 2010 and has been a great coach. Now he knows I am crazy and has developed an appropriately crazy training regimen. VO2 max work at times, long 2 hour trail runs at others. He leaves the swimming to Nancy but his bike and run workouts are spot on. We have similar coaching philosophies and I hope my constant critique and feedback will make him a better coach but realistically I could never coach myself the right way. I feel very fortunate to have a friend and coach like that guy.

So things are clicking on the training front. Work is up and down, still trying to find my way now that I am travelling, but for now I am enjoying, training hard, working hard, eating sensibly to maintain my new weight but no less and having a lot of fun. Hoping this equilibrium holds up until May 7 - can't come soon enough.

This is Glyogen Depletion.

2011-01-27T16:53:00.001-08:00

I just finished reading Matt Fitzgerald's Racing Weight. It is an awesome, easy read for anyone interested in learning about food & exercise, and especially poignant for those of us who don't fully understand how food relates to performance. And that is really the entire point of the book - training for endurance sports is not a race that takes place on a scale, it takes place in training on the roads, in the pool and ultimately on the race course.

I mentioned earlier that I dropped some weight since starting training December 1. Like a lot of weight. I peaked at 171 after 6 months of flights and heavy steak dinners w/ bottles of wine. I started training December 1 and about halfway through that month I went up to the mountains and did nothing but ride my bike and mainly ate spinach salads in this giant, wooden bowl. And not much else. When I got back, my weight was down. And I felt good. By beginning of January, I was in the low 160's but my energy was lagging a bit. Really, I just felt like I wanted to cry all the time. But I got really hooked on the scale. My dream weight that I pegged for myself a while back was 158. That was the weight I wanted to race at. It isn't that arbitrary and it isn't that logical - it is the weight that Lance raced at. Super g&y, I know. About the 3rd week of January I hit 158. Mind you I trained my balls off for IM Arizona in 2008 and the lowest I got was 163. So to hit 158 was a high. But my energy sucked. I seriously wanted to shoot myself. Work stress was magnified and working from home, all I wanted to do was nap. But I was training and I was light. And then I hit 156 and a light bulb went off. Umm, what am I doing here? And coincidentally or not, I had ordered this book and it arrived. And just in time.

The book literally mentioned stories of guys like Andy Potts doing the same thing I had done - losing way too much weight due to being a big muscle-bound type beforehand and trying to change yourself too quickly.

And the words rang off the pages - eat more, eat right, eat at the right times, eat the right food, eat according to how you are training, but for God's sake, eat.

I had been eating 1800 calories per day to that point, which by the way is LESS than my resting metabolic rate, you know what you would burn if you laid in bed all day. That never accounted for all of the training.

Since reading the book, I am up to anywhere from 2500-3500 calories per day, eating the right foods at the right time, and I am faster than ever, feel better than ever and don't feel like I want to cry all the time. Now just sometimes.

Oh, the title of the blog. At one point in the book he describes what it is like to take your body to glycogen depletion in a long, aerobic workout in order to force your body to come back stronger. He calls it finishing a workout cross-eyed and drooling. I thought that description pretty much said it all!

What in the world

2011-01-14T09:40:00.000-08:00

What in the world is going on. Caught up on old 60 Minutes episodes last night that I missed during months of travel, only to learn that our state and federal economies will soon be collapsing and that I do not possess a Superior Autobiographical Memory, which made me sad. I thought I did. But there are only 6 people who do - one of them is Marilu Henner, she of Taxi fame btw - and I am not one of them.

Couple watching the sad, sad news from 60 Minutes with work stress (all I can say is be careful what you wish for, you might just get it...I wanted a promotion, with it comes an inability to avoid phone calls or ignore thorny issues) and sleep was fitful.

On top of that I already had 11,000 swim yards, 50 bike miles and 20 run miles under my belt this week, so I skipped swimming today, something i haven't done since I started Masters swim in December. But my shoulders are aching and I have to remind myself that while less is not necessarily more, more can be less. Stacking workouts is not only not all that effective, it also leads to injury, burnout and diminishing returns.

But, I did hop on my bike and felt good with the 1 hour trainer ride (9 x 120" repeats in the big gear). The tangible reward on the bike is pushing bigger and bigger gears that feel easier and easier each week.

Last week I did the Rock Store ride and cruised past people with ease. Without all of this training, that doesn't happen. I am a terrible climber on the bike. Awful. But I chose an Ironman that has like 40,000 feet of climbing, which meant 2 things - one, I had to shed any unnecessary weight and two, had to get stronger on the hills for both biking AND running. And to date I am seeing the progress on both fronts.

Doesn't solve the problems of the world, though. To get off a great bike ride last Saturday and find out a political leader got shot in the head was bad. To watch these idiots from all sides act as though there is anyone at fault besides a deranged, mentally fucked sociopath is worse. Whatever anyone's opinions of our President may be - and I said this during the reign of Emperor Bush - he is still in charge. We are still one country with 14,000 problems and they are getting worse everyday, not better, especially with all of this talk. Sarah Palin is an idiot. But so are the Dempcrats, the Republicans and the Tea Partyists, who btw don't even know what they stand for. They just think they know what they stand in opposition to. Thing is, if you don't stand for something, you will fall for anything and that is precisely what is happening. It is all falling apart and these morons are playing the fiddle while the Titanic sinks.

It is making me sick, stressing me out and all I really want to do is to be able to sleep at night. And swim. And maybe, just maybe, eat a few slices of bacon each week.

Triathlon = Swim, Bike & Run

2011-01-12T17:04:00.000-08:00

Feeling uncreative with my title and my post in general, so this one will be pretty cut and dry. Last week was the big week in my first month of training with my coach Jim Lubinski. In general, a triathlon training program is "periodized" meaning a large chunk of time is divided into smaller, bite sized chunks. A month is usually 3 progressively increasing weeks and 1 recovery week. For me that means something like 12 hours in week 1, 14 hours in week 2, 16 hours in week 3, 13 hours in week 4. When laid out in a spreadsheet or sketched on a piece of paper, it looks like a staircase. My race is May 7, so it is a 6 month staircase.

Anyone who has listened to me talk about myself knows that I am a pretty good runner and cyclist and a poor swimmer. Swimming is generally based on your 100 meter (or yard) swim time. No matter if you are training for a sprint triathlon, an Ironman or just swimming for fitness, the 100 time is the key. My 100 yard times have always been around 1:50, which is pretty bad. By comparison the top Ironman guys are probably 55 seconds or 1:00 and Phelps is probably 45 seconds, I am guessing though.

So I have been approaching my training for Ironman St. George differently than any other training I have done. I have been swimming - and I mean A LOT. At least 10,000 yards per week, trying to get at least one double swim (2x in a day) per week. This week I may hit 20,000 yards. When I trained for Ironman Arizona I swam 150,000 yards in six months. Thus far in 2 months I am already at 85,000. And herein is the ego feeding - I have been swimming 1:35's consistently, not just once in a while. I can't explain how good that feels after years - literally years - of frustration. I have been taught how to pull more water behind me, how to breathe less and how to streamline myself. In short, I have been taught how to swim. This may only save me 5 minutes in an Ironman swim (2.4 miles), but it translates into up to less calories burned, less energy expended and an overall better feeling when i get out of the water.

Also, a funny thing has happened. I can't keep weight on. I dropped down into the 158 range last week after starting around 170. Yes, I am eating smarter. Yes, I am training more. But even in the peak of my Ironman Arizona training, when I was unemployed and running 20 miles and riding 60 in a day, I hovered around 164. These are uncharted waters, literally.

Work is picking up. We are relocating one of our teams to another city. The hours are getting long again. Travel may start soon. But I am fully committed to maintaining these hours, even as the intensity of training, the intensity of my personal life, the intensity of training all take their toll - why? Because I am genuinely having a great time doing it!

Worth the Weight

2011-01-04T15:46:00.000-08:00

Workouts continue strong. Last week "off" from work, put in 150 bike miles, 12,000 meters in the pool and 30 run miles. The word overtrained gets thrown around a lot these days, so I am not going to use it, but i will say i am tired. the other thing i am seeing is constant hunger and even more constant weight loss. when i started training december 1, i weighed 167. this is the same weight from my last ironman race in 2008 (which i find odd, but true). today i weigh 159. i attribute most of this to the increased training load, but also to a series of incremental changes:

1. using a calorie counter - less for the actual calorie counting, more for the accountability

2. eating a bag of spinach every day

3. eating a turkey burger and veggie plate at the Counter instead of a hamburger & french fries

4. little to no alcohol.

these changes really havent been that hard or even detectable, but they all add up to significant weight loss. and generally speaking, as long as i am still sleeping at night and still feel strong in the 3 disciplines, i am comfortable at that weight. our bodies seek their own weight level and will let us know when it is too much (or too little). with my "a" race over 4 months away, i don't plan on changing anything drastically, just keep doing what i am doing.

Bye Bye Beardie

2010-12-29T15:47:00.001-08:00

here is what i wanted to report at our early january work meetings when we went around the conference table and gave our "here is what i did over winter break" speeches.

1. Grew a beard
2. Went to the mountains and got lost for a while
3. Rode 300 miles, swam 10 miles, ran 50
4. Checked out
5. Lost 10 lbs.

Done. Mission accomplished.

Went up to a cabin near the Sequoias, replete with no cell service, no internet and for a time- no power - and rode until I got lost. the best ride was a 100 mile journey past the "road closed" sign in Sequoia National Forest, on a lonely road that climbed up, up, up in the rain, then snow. I brought nothing but cheese and butter sandwiches on sourdough and newspaper to stuff in the shirt for the downhills. I really wanted to do it like old school euro cyclists. Again, mission accomplished. Before I left I went to the local bike shop and picked up a Trek 2.1, aluminum frame/carbon fork, Shimano 105 components, nothing fancy but a pretty damn nice machine and rode it and rode it.

It poured up in the mountains and the cabin was fueled by the roaring fire I had to keep going day and night, so motivation wasn't at an all time high but it was a perfect routine. Get up, make coffee, read Ayn Rand (oh yeah i brought several of her books to read), make oatmeal, ride, repeat. I also got out on the mud soaked rainy roads and ran and ran. By the time I came back for Christmas I felt transformed and strong, a cyclist again.

Meanwhile back at home, my swimming has taken off thanks to swimming 5 days a week with my masters group (www.conejovalleymultisportmasters.com). Cold, rainy swim this morning and I was hitting 1:40's easily, which is pedestrian for most but a 20% improvement for me.

Basically I owe these huge gains to having someone to push me, my friend and coach Jim (www.jimlubinski.com). I am my own worst coach and have been a fan of his crazy training regimen for some time now. Since getting on his program a month ago, I have ridden 500 miles, run 100 and put in 50,000 meters in the pool. And I don't feel overtrained - yet.

But that leads to the next point - I still have a job. This week has been the transition week back into working. I don't think I will be flying 200,000 miles this year like 2010, but I don't think I will be flying 0 either. Most likely somewhere in between. My goal this year is to plan better, delegate more, utilize conference calls and videoconferencing and in general try to spend more time at home than not. I have dropped 10 pounds since the season ended thanks to getting vegetables back in my diet, cutting down the drinking significantly, lowering my calories from 2500/day to 1800 and cutting my stress from 100 to 30. My goal for 2011 is to keep it all that way!

First race of "2011"

2010-12-12T14:19:00.000-08:00

Or...why do I even bother setting sensible pacing goals for myself in "training races"? There is no such thing as a training race for me, they don't exist. There is a missed synapse in my brain or a Pavlovian response to a start gun and people ahead of me to catch and people behind me to break. I need a speed governor, like Nascar.

Jim mentioned last week that he was doing the Santa To The Sea half marathon up in Oxnard and it seemed like a good local race, a perfect distance to gauge where I am now and fun, so I signed up (yes, I paid the entry fee) and he picked me up this morning, along with Cortney (whose coach probably knows better than to assign her a "training race".) Yesterday was a 90 minute swim session and a 90 minute bike session broken into big gear intervals of standing, aero, aero on the nose of the saddle and seated upright. I did 7 loops around the lake in Westlake and fried my legs. Woke up this morning and felt like a bus had run over them, which I actually thought could serve as my speed governor.

We got up there about an hour before the 8am race start, sat around a bit, picked up our bib and chip and warmed up with some 1/2 mile jogs and sprints. I was targeting a 1:38, which I was figuring to break out into 8's for the first few, 7:30's, then a big finish. My first mile was 6:20.

In fact my first 5k was 20:20 and my first 10k was 42:00. And then I blew up. I play a game in my head of constantly recalculating how fast I would have to run to hit my original goal pace. In doing this it became apparent how far ahead of my pace I was running. At mile 6 it dropped to an 8:00 pace. Then a 9:00 at mile 8. And at mile 8 my wheels came off. The course support was lax and I went straight for 50 meters when I was supposed to go left. I ran into traffic. A cop turned me around and I was back on track. But it threw me off. At mile 10 I walked the aid station. I locked it back up. At mile 11 I walked the aid station. I locked it back up. At mile 12 I walked I walked the aid station. I locked it back up. With a mile to go I found my 5th wind. 6:00 last mile.

Crossed the line at 1:31:56, the 2nd fastest half I have ever done. Jim and Cortney were there, Jim ran a 1:15 and took 2nd overall.

We had a nice breakfast, Jim got his medal, I didn't get one and we went home.

Two days of 9 hour conference calls this week and then I am done for a month. A month off - ahh...

One more run

2010-12-03T16:27:00.000-08:00

i was in omaha for the last 2 weeks - give or take a jaunt over to Phoenix for IMAZ - and needless to say, it was cold. There weren't going to be any dreams of renting a bike and early morning riding in the 15 degree weather. In point of fact on more than one occasion I ended up literally freezing, the highlight being Thanksgiving morning when i ran 2 hours and finished with icicles in my hair. It was cold. But i did find a 25 meter pool and got 10,000 meters in while there. All in all, it was a decent trip, albeit depressing by the end and a fitting end to a long year of travel. My boss is also a triathlete, making things easier when it comes to later mornings or explaining the weird eating times.

This week is my first full week back at home. It has been an adjustment. I don't really know what to do with myself, or how to effectively manage my time. On the road, I literally work 18 hours a day and love it. Sleep doesn't come easy crossing time zones or spending time on planes, so I fill the time working. I have said it before - this is the job, or type of job - I have always wanted. I am totally fulfilled. So, coming home is like "what happens next"? My life is skewing towards kids and early nights and Christmas and all things domestic, which is great, and I am completely excited but it is still an adjustment. What time should I wake up? When do I start working? When do I stop? I find myself on the computer at 4:30am and 8:30pm but in the pool at noon. It's definitely a transition. Another transition? Jim Lubinski is helping me get ready for Ironman St George. If you don't this guy, you will. He seems to get to know everyone and makes friends with them all. But don't let his friendly exterior fool you - inside he is a seething, snarling robotic monster pigdog beast. He is equally cruel to himself as he is to his clients. My first week consisted of 10,000 meters of swimming, 80 ride miles and 20 run miles. Oh, and that was a light one. May not seem like much to some, but this is only the beginning. Big jump right back into the mix. Nice to have someone like Jim watching over, because I tend to be my own worst coach, doing not enough of the right stuff and too much of the wrong. Right now is base running & riding and a lot of swimming.
One more work trip next week and then 6-8 weeks off from travel. I am going up to a cabin in the mountains for a few days with nothing but my bike, some spinach and a water bottle. Hoping to come down with a beard and my biking mojo back which seems to have gotten lost somewhere over Denver or Des Moines.

Out in the cold

2010-11-17T14:09:00.001-08:00

Omaha, in November, is not warm it seems. I sit in my hotel lobby in thermals, an undershirt, dress shirt and a sweater i just bought because it is cold. 35 degrees outside. It is all very deceiving because it is sunny out. Landed yesterday for a 2 week stay here, broken up by a 36 hour trip to Ironman Arizona on Saturday, and between the cold weather and dress clothes I typically bring, actually had to check 2 BAGS this time. i have managed to get away with checking bags exactly 0 times throughout this year, but the cold forced me to shove a huge coat and gloves and sweatshirts and Under Armour and a bunch of stuff I don't normally contend with. As long as I conceded to the second bag I brought my blender and a bunch of snacks and such.

Landed yesterday and went for a run. Remember the deceptive cold thing - long sleeve top, beanie cap and shorts weren't quite enough. Once i got going i felt ok, 7 mile run around town, but when I got back there were red marks all over my torso and such, which I don't quite understand but I thawed out eventually.

Once the next 2 weeks are over, jumping into training with both feet (literally), beginning weight training, heavy doses of riding, swimming & running. Can't wait. also can't wait for Ironman Arizona this weekend. Far cry from 30 degree weather to wake up Sunday morning at 4 and get into Tempe Town Lake in a kayak with 2300 swimmers. Nothing more inspiring to me than watching and racing in Ironman races. Large spot in my heart for it.

Away we go...

Ahem, ahem

2010-11-04T10:45:00.000-07:00

Hello. I am back. Well, at least I think I am back. For the last 6 months I have been gone and then thought I was back only to find I was, in fact, not back. I was back and then the next day I was in Omaha or Norfolk or Hartford which, for those of you who haven't followed my blog since I haven't written it for 4 months - are not close to Los Angeles, where I live. It became really hard to get back when I kept getting gone.

But here we are. In February I was hired to help build the United Football League and since my first day on March 1, I have flown over 200,000 miles, logged 150 hotel nights, rented 50 cars, gained 20 pounds, slept in my own apartment maybe 15 nights, hired 100 people, launched 5 professional football teams, signed some great musical acts & some not so great contracts and had an incredible journey. All in all it has been at once the most amazing year of my professional life and the most lonely. Lots and lots of time on airplanes and in hotels and rentals and traveller's food was uncool at first and then cool when I became Premier everything and then eventually just settled in at mediocre.

We don't play on Sundays, we don't play in cities with other pro football teams and our season spans mid-September through Thanksgiving. 8 weeks down, with only 3 remaining. It has gone by very quickly and also glacially slow. But when we play our Championship on November 27, the lion's share of the work will be over. December will be evaluations and promoting some people, not promoting others and in general taking a step back and getting a 30,000 foot view we didn't get to take at the beginning of the year. We will also be expanding - Virginia and then maybe 2 West coast-ish teams, which hopefully limits the travel a hair in 2011.

December also means an equilibrium. I signed up for Ironman St. George (5/7/2011). Generally speaking, folks don't sign up for Ironman races in their quest for life balance, but in this case I am. Our front office is on the East coast so I literally work from 4:30 am until 10pm some days. Ridiculous. So getting on a bike for 2 hours will actually help me get life a little more normalized.

Enough about that. My bike. IM St George is listed as 6,000 feet of climbing, more or less. I am riding a road bike. I have my eyes set on the Wilier Imperiale. Google it. Pure bike pornography.

So that's the story. Reeling my diet in, getting out and training each morning, built out my mileage goals for the next 6 months, in the market for a coach (I am the worst coach of myself), saving up for that bike and in general just excited to get back at it!

The rumors of my death

2010-07-22T11:12:00.001-07:00

Greatly, greatly exaggerated. I am in fact not dead but very much alive.

You know you haven't logged on to a website - say, your blog for instance - when you can't remember the UserName or Password.

But here I am. Still working for the United Football League, still travelling, still working 16 hours a day and still loving it. The busiest time of my life to date was the 3 or 4 months leading to the grand opening of the Home Depot Center in 2003. This is like opening 5 of those, but only everything kept moving, they were spread out around the entire country and we had half the staff. It's a huge challenge, but a lot of fun.

I miss my friends, triathlon training, coaching and everything that went with all of that. This past weekend was Vineman and it reminded me of what I was doing a year ago - training w/ Jim and Cortney, drinking wine and racing with Joanna and the SD bunch, having a blast. Underemployed and broke? Sure. But there were some fun aspects of it for sure. Someone recently told me that having kids is like being pecked to death by chickens everyday and that is what I feel like most of the time. Between emails, texts and phone calls, it never ends.

But I am not dead, I swear. And soon I will return - forever.

Checking In

2010-05-03T09:40:00.001-07:00

I have always disliked the phrase "checking in". Like hey pal, just checking in. Why? Why are you checking in? I didn't ask for it and you don't need to do it. But I am checking in with you, dear readers. Because you asked for it and I need to do it. Fwiw, I am going to start blogging concurrently at our League blog at www.ufl-football.com, only I don't get to be sarcastic, so if you want to sarcasm and triathlon, come here. If you want to know about the construction of a professional sports league, go there.

Let's start with triathlon. We had athletes everywhere this weekend. Byerts broke 1:40 yesterday at the OC half marathon yesterday, John Gamba took on a tough, tough IM St George (replete with 40 mph wind gusts and 10,000,000 feet of climbing) and finished in 14:36, Macray Miller braved the chilly waters and raced Alcatraz, sending me a text after saying "Put this on your must do list for 2011", Jim Lubinski and Glenn Naphy raced Wildflower and I had a garage sale. The garage sale required a lot of stamina.

Macray and I were signed up for IM St George but both dropped out at some point in the last few months, maybe knowing we weren't going to be ready, maybe just not wanting to do it. I can just say this. I was in Vegas Thursday, the city that many of the athletes flew into for the race, then driving over there, and at no point did I say, damn I really wish I was doing that 140.6 mile race this weekend. I didn't look around at the shaved, skinny athletes and think "you know, my training has slacked and I am fighting off bronchitis and I have flown 45,000 miles in the last 2 months, but you know what would be fun? An hour swim, a 5 hour bike ride and a marathon for grins". Never had those thoughts.

But...I did realize that I want to get signed up for some race, any race, in the next few months to get some direction. Travel or not, I don't like the floundering about thing that is going on and need the motivation that a scheduled race will give me. I can't have a 1 year base period.

Our TNS group is building out nicely. I moved out (back?) to Agoura Hills recently and will be coaching a group of athletes training towards Ironman Arizona. We will be doing Masters Swim at Oaks Christian High School, riding Saturdays and running Sundays out here. There is incredible running and riding and my only worry had been swimming, so I am excited to have found this Masters program. I am excited to coach these guys and to have a group to work with. I am also hoping to get Charrissa and the others out here (once she recovers of course). Speaking of Charrissa, I was pleasantly surprised to have lunch with her recently and to have her tell me that she was hanging in for Ironman Arizona despite her gnarly encounter with a tow truck on PCH recently. 98% of an Ironman is about your heart and she has plenty, no doubt.

The next two weeks are rough - all day commercial shoot at the Rose Bowl Friday, red eye to Orlando (I loathe the red eye, but it works), 9 days there, fly back for 2 days, then Omaha and Sacramento for 2 days. You know you travel a lot when the airport personnel remembers you, which is happening often in Omaha these days. It does expedite the boarding procedures though.

All in all things are good. Love my job, easily the most challenging job I have ever had, because I have absolutely no job description or guidance. Total sink or swim, you get out of it what you put into it kind of situation. But what excites me is that I get to set my own success metrics, then achieve them and on September 17 at our opening night in Las Vegas I can stand back and feel pretty good about what I dodn.

Now I just need to get back to running, riding and swimming...

Mileage

2010-04-02T04:40:00.000-07:00

A switch has been thrown.

One month ago I was keyed and primed for the LA Marathon, turning in blazing fast splits and solid, steady long runs.

A day later I was on a plane to Orlando. Then Vegas. Then Omaha. Then Orlando again.
I got a job.
You get the point.

I am working for an upstart professional football league, the United Football League. It is a dream job, the chance to build something from scratch with little to no puppeteering or micromanging. The flip side of autonomy, however, can be fear. Before the unpleasantness of my last 4 years, I made a career of being the second guy. I was really good at fulfilling someone else's vision and staying behind the scenes. Not anymore. The workload and expectation level is daunting but very exciting. Literally building this thing from scratch.

But the work is not the most challenging part, the travel is. Since March 1, I have travelled 25,000 miles. The time period April 1 - April 20 sums it all up:

April 1 - 6am flight Burbank to Vegas, back at 6. Go home, run and eat, 12:30a flight to Houston, then on to Omaha

April 2 - Fly home, 10p

April 4 - 10:30p flight to Orlando

April 7 - Fly home

April 8 - 6a flight to San Fran, fly home at 4

April 11 - 7a flight to Vegas

April 12 - 10:30 flight Vegas to Orlando

April 14 - Fly Home

April 19 - 6a fly to Omaha

April 20 - Home

Suddenly flight miles and frequent flier status has become the new obsession. I do love the status thing, the upgrades, the math of the 25% bonus, not dealing with the stress of getting my bags on board. I do not like travellers, TSA agents, inconsistent airport security policies, the fact that you can't bring water in (total conspiracy by Big Water).

Training? Trying to figure that out. I am not letting this frenetic pace keep up. The miles just are not condusive to quality training. I get into town and run, but it is not typically a good one and it showed when I missed my marathon target by 15 minutes. If I thought this pace was going to keep up I would figure out how to have a bike in places like Orlando or Omaha, but I don't think it will. I am going to push to spend more time in Vegas and Omaha, flights that don't crush me.

But hey, I do like the miles, one way or the other.

Reaching the end without finishing the thing

2010-03-23T07:05:00.000-07:00

The LA Marathon was Sunday. I was going to write about it yesterday but it wasn't time yet because I was still pretty down about it. I chose the marathon, and specifically breaking 3 hours in the marathon, back in November as a way of dealing (or not dealing) with everything going on in my life - unemployment, bad living situation, recent break up, being unfulfilled, the list goes on. What ended up happening was that this race would become the catalyst for change in my life, profound change. Or at least it coincided with change. I am not sure.

I started training in December. At the time I weighed around 176 and had run a marathon a month prior in 3:16 and won it. It was not a competitive marathon. But I ran it in 3:16 with little to no training.

I put together a solid training plan. Progressively increasing long runs on Saturdays, mid-distance runs at marathon pace on Wednesdays and speed work on Tuesdays & Thursdays. I mixed in work at Core Performance to stave off injury, which worked brilliantly, and I kept a decent swimming and cycling base as well.

My long runs were solid. I ran in the rain, I ran hills, I ran by the beach, I ran around Westlake Village, I was solid. My fast runs were fast. I peaked at a 5:01 mile leading up the race and banged out fast 5k, 10k and Half Marathon times. I was totally ready for the LA Marathon.

If it had taken place 3 weeks earlier.

I say this for 2 reasons. One, I peaked too early. My last long run was 16 miles 2 weeks prior to the marathon. I now see I should have done at least 18 that day and 14 the week before. This doesn't work for most people and I wouldn't prescribe it to most of my athletes, but for me, I needed to stay primed. I went into the race feeling flat and fat. I had hit 161 in my training, but I went into the race at 168. I felt heavy and ran like it. The other reason I wish the marathon was 3 weeks earlier was that I got a job on March 1 that has already seen me fly 15,000 miles. Coach, first class, it doesn't matter. Flying takes it toll. Hotel beds take their toll. Diet on the road - even if you find the Whole Foods and limit your drinking and don't partake in the cheese gift basket in the room - takes it toll. I am in Orlando more than anywhere and the 3 hour time change killed me. On the Wednesday before the race I woke up at 3:37 eastern (12:37 pst) and never got back to sleep. I never recovered from that. Then I started thinking about it, which made me not sleep even more. Then I started drinking way too much coffee, feeding the cycle. I started to feel an itch in my throat on Thursday and convinced myself I was getting sick. It just got bad.

Friday I went up to the expo and started to get excited, but it was manufactured excitement. I still didn't have my head in the game. Saturday I woke up early (again, lack of sleep), ran the last 4 miles of the course and again started to get excited. Again, it was forced and I wasn't really into it. Saturday Michelle and the kids came down to stay the night before the race and we went to dinner and I was feeling worse and worse. I was psyching myself out and not excited at all.

Woke up at 3:30, ate a little bit, dropped off my phone, keys and stuff at their hotel room and got on the bus to Dodger Stadium and still wasn't excited. I sat next to a girl who was chatty about all the marathons she has run and she was nice enough but I wasn't into it. I would soon see her in the sub-3 hour corral at the start line. I had no idea.

Got to the Stadium at 5 (way too early) and was one of the first 5 people or so in the "general public" corral. I had messed up in my registration and not gotten a wristband for the sub-4 hour corral, so I had made it my mission to get in there. A few more people showed up and sat next to me - all women - and at our first chance, we snuck under the fencing and got into the corral. Where we waited. For 2 hours. They delayed the start by 30 minutes which wasn't the end of the world, but does throw off the nutrition plan. Fortunately I waited until they confirmed what time it would start and took my Gel about 15 minutes prior to race start.

Finally at 7:50ish, the gun went off My plan was SUPPOSED to be to run 7:07's for the first 10 miles, which would have been 15 seconds slower than goal pace. I ran 6:17's for my first 5 miles. Way to go. I literally blew my race plan in the first 5 steps. I was getting passed by hundreds and it was freaking out. I was never in my own head space in this whole race, I was constantly watching my Garmin (well, Max's Garmin) and other people. I got passed by so many people and that never happens. (Side note: I probably started in 150th place and ended in 350th, so most of that is in my mind). At mile 3 there was a huge hill leading to the Disney Concert Hall and I sprinted it. Jesus Christmas. I know so much better than that. WALK THE HILL IF YOU CAN'T SEE THE TOP. Trust your stuff. Trust it. I didn't. I wanted time in the bank, I wanted to get my pace to the point where I could run 8 minute miles and hit a 3 hour marathon. Why? I look back on it and it is all so obvious. At mile 7 I was flagging. I saw Children's Hospital and it gave me a boost but also made me feel like a loser. Like I am all talk. I knew I wouldn't hit 3 hours and yet I had talked so much about it. I started calling myself the Barrack Obama of marathon runners, lots of talk, no result. I was really down. I knew Max was at mile 13 so I tried to hold out but at mile 11 I walked a bit. In a marathon, for the most part, once you walk, you have committed to walking at least 4 more times in the race. I saw Max at 13 and yelled at him, told him to "COME HERE" and he tried to talk me out of my head but it was useless. We were up on Sunset and I knew I had to run past Sunset Plaza, Skybar, etc than a huge downhill. I made it to the downhill and saw my running buddy Kirk at the bottom. He also tried to encourage me and give me a slap, but all I could say was "I don't have it today". I said that because I didn't have it. I would love to point to the one thing that was derailing me physically - my feet, ankles, knees, back, etc, but it was all of it. System failure. Death by 1000 paper cuts. I knew old Byerts was at mile 17 with the oat bar things Michelle made for me, so I decided to run all the way to him and then he would tell me what my Boston Marathon qualifying time was, I assumed 3:15. This had been my "B" goal, but I didn't bother to look it up since I never thought not hitting this was even a discussion point. But I didn't make it to him. I stopped at mile 15. I pondered quitting but then I realized if I quit I would have to run 11 miles home. But, if I didn't quit, I had to run 11 miles home. So I decided to reset the day. I took off my shirt and moved my bib to my shorts. I restarted my iPod and slowed down but ran. At 17 I saw Byerts and he gave me food and told me 3:15 would get me to Boston. So I ran. At mile 18 we were on Santa Monica Blvd. and now I could kind of smell the bacon cooking. I knew we had a gradual climb at the VA Hospital but I also knew Charrissa would be there, so I had that to look forward to. And I ran. When I look at the individual 5k splits they tell an odd story. They start out fast, then each one gets slower. Except for the very end. For kicks, I looked up the splits for Tyler Olson, a guy I know in passing but who is a very accomplished runner. His splits are PERFECT - 21 or 22 minutes across the board - and he ran a 2:59. By contrast I was probably at some point 3-5 minutes ahead of him but he beat me by 15 minutes. Slow and steady (well, fastish and steady) wins the race. Miles 19-21 were pretty good. At mile 21 Charrissa was there with a gel and some good words. I asked her to call Michelle because I wanted to carry the kids across the finish line. 5 miles to go.

Turning onto San Vicente was that "a ha" moment. Thousands of people. My home turf. I got a boost. At mile 22 I saw a co-worker who ran alongside me and took a picture of me. I don't know him well but it was very kind of him to sit and wait for me (he lives right there). Another boost. And then mile 23. Sweet, sweet, mile 23. Anyone who runs San Vicente knows that from 26th and SV it is ALL downhill. Hit mile 23 and became aware that I knew lots of people at this point but I was pretty much out of my mind, so I couldn't register people calling my name. I also knew I had to run my last 5k in something like 21 minutes which would be my fastest 5k of the day if I wanted to go sub-3:15. (A) I thought that was impossible and (B) that would mean not carrying the kids across the line. But I dug deep. I knew Jim, Cortney, Eve, etc etc would be at mile 25. I had to show well. I had to, for me. I was feeling shame at this point but I also knew a big finish would help. I dug deeper than I have ever dug. I cranked it out. 24th st. 17th st. 11th st. 7th. Ocean, there's the turn!

The first person I saw was Eve, going nuts, then Jim popped out and ran with me. That dude is so encouraging. I had been thinking throughout the race about his unwavering commitment to being joyful no matter how his races end. He hasn't had the greatest results at the Ironman distance, let's be honest. He knows I support him and I am not trying to be mean, but he hasn't. It's just like what happened to me Sunday. I CAN run a 2:50, he CAN bang out an 8:45, but neither of us has. But what I love about the guy is that if you see him after he wins a race or comes in 100th, his attitude is exactly the same. And I wanted that Sunday. So when he ran next to me, it was just one more example of wha a cool dude he is.

He left me before Montana which meant 1/2 mile to go. I probably had 3:30 to go half a mile. Jesus how am I going to do this, I thought. Just make it to California. Hit California and I could barely see the clock. 3:14:25. Ugh, dig deep. Thousands of people. At Arizona I had one block and I saw Michelle. I tried to make the "i am not going to run with the kids" and signal and then I sprinted. 3:14:35. DIG DEEP. Even though it was a block there was a decent chance in my mind I wouldn't make it 1 block in 25 seconds. Also a chance I would have a heart attack. I was on empty. 20 meters. 15. 10. BAM. 3:14:48. And I crumpled. Got my medal, then a silver blanket, and my body started convulsing. That marathon was WAY harder than any race I had ever done. I dug deep and didn't quit, though I cannot say I gave it 100%.. I can also definitely say I raced poorly. My pacing was awful. I can also say it was fun. Seeing friends out there, spending the weekend with Michelle, all that made it worth it.

What happens next? Let's be honest. I will do another marathon very soon. I am looking now. 3 hours has become the new 10 hour Ironman, the other monkey on my back. I also see that I am my own worst coach. Once I ifnd the right race, I will find a coach and let someone else do the heavy lifting. Coach needs a coach.

I do want to thank those that helped me. Kirk and Mickey, thanks for the long runs and good talks. Part of why I pushed for Boston (actually all of why) is to run with you next year, Max, Charrissa & Dave, Eve, Jim and Cortney, thanks for being at different points out there - totally helped, Byerts - thanks for taking the time to meet me at our spot, to take some food to give me, for being there, Michelle, Morgan and Ryan, thank you for your support and for not really knowing the difference between 3 hours and 3:15.

OH!cean swimming

2010-03-10T15:08:00.000-08:00

Swam in the ocean for the first time since September 18 today. It was cold. At one point I turned around and saw Max's pointy mustache and newly bearded face about 20 meters behind me. I muttered something through my petrified lips. He did not respond. Know why? Because it was a f^%$king sea lion. So, that happened.

But it was good to get out in the coean, not just to spend time with friends and get the feeling of "doing it" despite not wanting to, but also since I am racing Saturday in the ocean.

Training is going well. Good trainer ride Monday and Core Performance session in the afternoon, great run yesterday morning. 3 mile warm up, then 3 intervals of 1 mile each at...wait for it...5:56, 5:41 and 5:01 pace respectively. That really happened. Granted it was downhill and granted it was pointless, but felt great. 12 days out from the marathon, feeling good, probably headed to Omaha or Orlando next week though. That means some meal plannung. I described earlier how much travel can disrupt sleep and diet, but I also believe proper planning can prevent much of that. Knowing the weather, picking a better flight, bringing as much food as I can, more detailed training plan while there, etc., will all lead to less disruption.

And then I came to the end

2010-03-05T15:17:00.000-08:00

Brian was really running well. A little too well.

I did not make up the title of the blog. Nor do I really know why I referred to myself in the 3rd person. But good start, eh?

I sit here 2+ weeks out from the marathon, slightly less certain about my performance than I was last week. Last Saturday I had my last big run, 20 miles scheduled and it rained. HARD. It poured. Met Mick the Irishman in Westlake at 6am and he barely made it to a bad case of softcockalitis but to his credit he showed. We ran the first 10 at 7:50 pace and then ramped it to 7:00 pace for the next 4, just as the temperature dropped and the rain poured down. At 14 he ran back to the car and like the weirdo I am I took off my arm warmers, gloves and shirt and went for it. I ran the last 4 (cut it down to 18) at 6:00 pace or faster and hauled. It was probably the strongest I have run to date. And then life happened.

I started a new work project which sent me to Orlando on a red eye and I didn't sleep one bit. I can/will write an entire rant on flying. The people, the smug arrogance of the flight crew, the inane strip search by the minimum wage TSA, the lack of "Zone control" when my boarding pass says Zone 2 and of course, my overwhelming desire to pay extra to fly first class to avoid all this when first class sucks too. Thanks Osama. I will say this, though, it brings out the best in my jokes. I had a great crowd in row 8 for the return flight last night and regaled them with such jokes as "You'll catch a hot towel in first class as soon as they catch Bin Laden". Not my greatest work, but hey it was unscripted work. But I won't rant about it. I could, though.

The point is I slept maybe 10 hours in 3 days, worked hard, slept in an uncomfortable bed, ate poorly, and only got 1 solid run, in which I literally did laps around the Convention Center.

I came home last night exhausted, dirty and feeling fat.

But what a workout today. Went to Core Performance and put myself through the "Dirtee Jerzee Shore" workout I have described before, then a gnarly 45 minute trainer ride and a 45 minute interval trainer workout. I was dying, but needed it. Worked out of a coffee place all day today, 16 mile run with Kirk tomorrow.

Runs from here on out get shorter and faster. And I am going to work on getting my weight back down to what it is last week. I put on 4 pounds this week. I think I have said it before, but each pound gained/lost makes around a 5-9 second/mile difference in a race.

May be out of town next week too, but this time Operation Starvation will be implemented with no exception.

Lessons Learned

2010-02-22T09:17:00.000-08:00

Ran the Pasadena Half Marathon yesterday. Had a goal time and crushed it. Cortney raced with me and crushed her goal time. So why did I leave feeling bad about it?

Lessons Learned

I don't like paying for run races. This particular race cost $85 and I just can't justify that for a medal and a t shirt that I don't really want anyway. Take those away and I am a dude going for a run. At least that is how I justified it. But that doesn't account for the race overhead, nor does it account for NOT having an official time which is one thing when I was middle of the pack but sucks when I am not. So I made a vow after the race that I will not bandit any more races. I will not pace anyone in a race nor get paced in a race either.

There were better lessons learned, though, or at least happier. My goal time was 1:25:04, which is made up of 6:29 miles, which translates into a 2:59 marathon. I went out at 6:15's after mile 2 and felt strong. And yet I got passed and not by 1 or 2 people, by maybe 100. I just laughed. By mile 5 the course was still relatively flat, still holding 6:15's and now maybe in 20th place. I wasn't in the mix for a win by any stretch but I could see the win, if that makes sense. The winning time would end up being 1:15, not very fast for a half, but it tells the story of how tough this course was. And I know I can be in that mix eventually.

By mile 6 the race turned hilly. We headed up towards the Rose Bowl (all roads in Pasadena either tilt up toward the mountains or down away from them, sort of an inverted copy of how Santa Monica is tiled towards the sea), so running towards the Rose Bowl was an uphill affair. I was losing it. My legs were throbbing. At mile 7 we dropped down then BAM. A huge hill climbing out of the Arroyo. And...for the first time in as many races as I can remember...I stopped. I was still on maybe 6:18 pace but my body shut down, my mind deserted me and I walked the hill. I was wearing this dumb yellow beanie and had been passing people like Pac Man and now I was getting the pity "You can do it, man". Tell you what, just presume that I know I can do it. It sucked. I watched the clock tick away as I trudged up the hill in a speed walk. I was ready to quit but then I realized - (1) this is supposed to be fun. (2) I have to tell every person that I quit. (3) If I don't hit 1:25:04 here, I am going to make myself do it before the LA Marathon. (4)This is embarassing. So to add embarassment to embarassment, I thought what could I do to snap this and then it hit me. I took off my shirt. I took off my shirt and it was FREEZING. Just took it off. And ran. Looked at the watch and I was at 7:00 pace, and it was hard but I was running. I was still on 1:25 pace because I had banked time but I probably ate 3 or 4 minutes debating whether to quit or not. And I held 6:45 or 7:00 pace to mile 10, then we made a right turn and it was downhill. Ahhhhhh. It wasn't my body failing, it was just really really steep. And then I found Zone 6, a zone I didn't even know I had. I ran that last 5k (3.1) miles in 18 minutes. That's sub-6. I was flying. I picked off almost everyone who had passed me on the walk. I made the turn to the finish, some dude patted my ass and said "come on man!". That's my move. He sprinted, I sprinted, we were flying but then again, I realized I hadn't registered and I felt douchy again. I pulled up. I crossed the finish line at 1:23:38, a new PR by 4 minutes. But it felt like a let down. I didn't take a medal and just waited for Cortney. She finished around 1:30 and was half happy/half bummed, but later on she found out she won her AG so then she was happy.

So here are 2 pledges and a dilemna. Pledges - no banditing and no pacing. No more, not again. The dilemna - I have a history of moving my goals. I set 3 hours as my goal for the marathon but admittedly 2:53-2:55 seems doable. That 5 minutes may seem incidental but that is the difference between maybe 60th place and 100th place. It is a pretty big deal, to me anyway. But I cannot do that to myself. I set 3 hours and I am sticking with it. I will just go as fast as I can INTELLIGENTLY and see what happens. And yes I signed up.

I also signed up for a sprint triathlon on March 13. It is the USC triathlon up in Oxnard. I figured that my alma mater, the one with the multi-billion dollar endowment needed my support. I do not like racing sprint triathlons because I do not like a race where winning my age group is predicated on how fast I can change my clothes. I do not like a race where a poor swimmer like me is pretty much F'ed coming out of the water down 3 minutes, no matter how hard I bike or run. But it is a good 90 minute workout the week before the marathon and I want to get out on a tri course with no pressure and very few people I know racing. Fight on!

Ruby Red Slippers, or No More John Deere hat?

2010-02-18T13:47:00.000-08:00

Look I will be the first to admit it - I am a metrosexual, especially when it comes to my racing clothes. Just the fact that I first typed "racing outfits" and changed it to racing clothes tells me I am a metrosexual. Top to bottom I need everything to match. One of the design requirements in my mind for the TNS uniform was that it had to work with my flourescent green John Deere hat. So, when New Balance unveiled the new 905's, the shoes I train in, I was feeling pretty good.

But Tuesday it happened.

I went to the new K Swiss store on Main St. in Santa Monica to buy my marathon racing flats. Racing flats are just that - they are flat and you race in them. They have much less support than training shoes, mainly because they weigh 10 ounces or less. They are light, they are fast and they don't last as long as training shoes. So what's the problem?

The problem is - they have EVERY color known to man. And they are a metrosexual's dream. They have country shoes, resplendent in the colors of USA, Japan, Germany, Brazil, they have powder blue and glittering red. Ahhhhhh....like Homer Simpson drooling over a donut. I was paralyzed by colors and bling.

So, I go to try them on. I wear a clown's 11.5 shoe which makes it tough to get shoes in stock. Of course the one I wanted wasn't in stock. So I tried other shiny ones and they were either too big, too small or just didn't fit right. And then there was one pair left.

Red, white, black and shiny. In no way did these match my shirt, shorts or hat.

And they fit perfectly. Not like did they fit OK and I would find a way to make it work. They fit perfectly.

And then the guy hits me where it hurts - buy 1, get 1 free. What??? $90 for 2 pairs of racing flats? Macray was with me so he bought one pair, I bought the other. I just got a pair of racing flats for $45. And they are perfect. Ugh. I says to the guy I says look these fit great, I won't get injured, I will perform brilliantly in them, they have everything I could want but they don't match. He just looked at me.

He didn't appreciate the gravity of the situation.

But I took them and love them and now I am stuck with my choice of clothing for the marathon. I need to match, right?

This is serious stuff and demands serious thought.

Peak, Plateau, Taper

2010-02-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

Training has peaked/is peaking at this point for the marathon on March 21. The way that it works is more or less you peak anywhere from 3-6 weeks out from your "A" race, it all depends on what type of race it is, your level of fitness, other life factors, etc etc. I typically try to put my biggest weekend of training in 2 weeks out from race day for long course triathlons, but given that this is a running race, I am being a bit more conservative. My second to last long run was last Saturday. Met Kirk and Mickey at 6am in Westlake Village for an 18 miler. These guys are older than me, but my hope is that I will be running at their pace and distance when I am their age in 30 years (just kidding). We ran the first 14 together, chit chatting and maintaining a perfect 7:55 pace. It started off a hair slow, but then we picked it up slowly as we warmed up. They are very good running partners because they aren't hypercompetitive and they are easy to talk to. I forget sometimes how training with others can be so helpful and rewarding because I tend to spend most of my training time alone. Part of it is my odd training schedule, part of it is my odd training goals, but part of it is that I am inherently a loner and I enjoy the solitude. Some people meditate or go to yoga or whatever to find peace, but I find it in mindless miles, meters and minutes of training. That said, ditching the iPod and being social really breaks it up. That said, the pigdog lives and at mile 14 I decided to try a workout Byerts and a few others have mentioned to me before - running 80% of your long run easy, then cranking out the last bit at 10k pace. This is a trick the Kenyans use on their long runs. Of course they may go from a pedestrian 6:30 pace to 4:45 for their last miles, but for me going from 7:55 to 6:20 for the last 4 felt great. I finished the run completely spent but more than that it reinforced that I can not only run fast but that I can do it at the end of a long run. I will do one more of these runs on February 27, 3 weeks out from the race. The rest of the schedule is rounding into form as I have added much more triathlon training back into my routine. I was up to roughly 60 run miles per week and it was taking its toll on my groin, back and knees. I have cut back to around 45 and added 3 weekly swims as well as 2 weekly bikes. I am also signing up for my first tri on March 14 up in Oxnard, a little sprint that will serve as my last big workout before the marathon. This weekend Cortney has informed me that she is going to beat me at the Pasadena half marathon, but my only goal is to run a 1:25. That is the last goal left on my "to-do" list before the marathon.

After that, it is one last big run week, then more cross training leading up to the tri on March 14 and then the race. As far as race day goes, to hit a sub-3 marathon, I need to run 6:52 miles. 3 months ago I really didn't think I could do this, but now I really don't think I cannot do this. I f'ed up and didn't get my form into the race directors in time to be allowed into the sub-3 hour corral which means I have to start with everyone else, but I am going to do my best to work my way in.

As far as pacing I do know that negative splitting (running the second half faster than the first) works, but I also know that psychologically I would like to have a little time in the bank. My goal is to hit mile 13.1 in approx. 1:28, which means I have to run a 1:32 on the back half, which is approx. 7:00 miles. David is meeting me at mile 16 to give me food and run the last 10 with me. My favorite thing on long runs is to play with numbers, so I LOVE it when I need to run 7:00 miles at mile 16, then only 7:05's after mile 17, then 7:10's after mile 18, etc as I run each one progressively faster. Mentally, I get a huge boost from this sort of time banking and once I only need to run 7:30's the rest of the way, it is a done deal.

I do wonder if anyone else has this crazy way of thinking? I find the numbers and time goals and such very relaxing whereas most people just go for a run.

The race where my head exploded

2010-02-08T09:35:00.000-08:00

I truly did not think it was possible for me to get any more full of myself than I already was, but it happened. Here's the formula - 1 part success + 1 part insecurity/hyper competitiveness + 3 parts beer = Ginormous head. But let me back up.

As laid out in previous posts, my journey towards a sub-3 marathon on March 21 is a lot of training with a few race goals built in to remind myself that I am fast and to check off smaller milestones along the way. Working backwards from 3 hours, this means that I need to be able to run a 5k in 18:34, a 10k in 38:36 and a half marathon in 1:25:04. Yesterday was the Redondo Beach 5k and 10k, so my goal was to check 2 of those goals off my list at once. No small feat since my previous best was 19:19 in the 5k and 39:19 in the 10k.

Showed up early to register and decided not to pay for 2 races, just one. In my mind I was going to run the 5k as a "bandit" and the 10k legitimately. It did not occur to me until I was at the 5k start line that the second I crossed the start line, the chip on my shoe would beep and therefore I would have to finish the 5k and bandit the 10k. Not a big deal, just sort of changed my way of thinking. The 5k went off and I found myself in the lead pack for the first 1/2 mile. I was on pace for a 5:30 mile, way too fast, so I pulled up a smidge and let the first 15 elite runners go. I clicked off my first mile in 5:46 and felt decent, but my heart rate and breathing were through the roof. When you compete at the Ironman or even Half Ironman distance you spend none of your time in "Zone 5" - redlining - so this was an uncomfortable although not totally unfamiliar feeling. It was around mile 1.5 that the headgames began. I knew I was close to my goal but I couldn't ease up. I started negotiating. "Hit your goal in this race and you don't have to race the 10k" or "Just quit this race and save it for the next one". This always happens to me, U have these doubts. I knew I was redlining and had no idea how I could maintain that pace for another 1.6 miles. We hit the turn around and a girl was right ahead of me. I have always made it my goal to beat the women. If you can do that, you're in good stead. This sentence went through my head - "if you push hard you can finish inside her". Then I was repulsed and amused at how that sounded. And that kept me going. Mile 2. OK, fine, 1.1 miles to go. Ahead of pace. I knew that soon I could lower my average pace to 6:45 and still hit my goal. This mentally took some of the weight off and gave me a boost. I passed her and started my kick. With 1/2 mile to go she was right next to me. Now there were people lined up cheering - for her, mind you - and I was like, no way. Don't get chicked. I hammered. She hammered. Finish line in sight. Beat her. I gave it my all. Clock read 18:19. Beat her by 3 seconds. Crushed my goal time. Beat my PR by 1 minute. Then someone came up and asked my name and age. I won my age group. I was very surprised by that. I was also surprised I didn't die. I was so worn out. And I had to run a 10k? Good lord.

Grabbed some water, met some former co-workers, including Kirk, who is training for Boston. He is the CFO of my former comapny and a very very intense man. He was also running both races, so we cooled down and then re-warmed up together for the race. By now I had decided to drop my time goal for the 10k, I was so tired. We lined up together to start the next race and the gun went off. Then came the pigdog.

I have described the pigdog inside me before, but typically in the context of my ridiculous appetite. But it is not just food that the pigdog cannot get enough of. The pigdog wants more of everything. In this case, as I let 100's of people pass me, the pigdog bit the lining of my stomach and said get moving fatty. If you are going to show up to this event wearing arm warmers and a running shirt with a flaming skull, flourescent green shoes and a flourescent green John Deere hat, you damn well better start running. So I did. Left Kirk and clicked off a 6:20, then a 6:15, 6:10 and at mile 4 I was probably top 75. This is where I am proud of myself. I found another gear and passed 15 people in the last 2 miles. Unbelievably, though, one of the guys I passed re-passed me. I was very impressed and told him so after the race. I finished in 38:30, nailing my goal nearly on the dot and finishing 6th in my age group, 60th overall. This actually means much more to me than the 5k result. I am stoked that (A) i got off my ass and followed through, (b) that I had surrendered to not doing it and then did it anyway, (c) that I paced it perfectly and (d) that I can run 9.3 miles and an average pace of 6:10. I never had this kind of speed before. It is the first time in my marathon training that I can truly wrap my head around running 6:50's for an entire 26.2 miles.

The last goal is a 1:25 half marathon. I am thinking I will do this on February 21 up in Pasadena. Cortney is doing it, so it seems like a good time and venue to do it. After that, smooth sailing.

One last word on this whole thing. I realized something yesterday, or maybe I already knew it but the thought crystallized. I have known people with eating disorders or read books about them who say that one of the reasons that they purge or that they starve themselves is because when everything in their lives sucks or seems completely overwhelming or whatever, their weight, their appearance, their body image is the one thing they CAN control. Obviously their self-image is totally whacked which makes it so bad. But I also believe that compulsive exercise is its own eating disorder. And my life is a bit "hectic" right now, shall we say. I found out Friday that my mom is sick. And I don't know what to do about it. So as I was running the 10k and thinking about the 5k it hit me - I do this perfectly (almost). Exercise, running, triathlon - these are the things I CAN control, this creates a vacuum where I can be perfect. I run because it takes me away from my screwed reality. And I may be overthinking it, navel-gazing as my brother says, but I really don't care. It was such a prescient moment, so clear that it made the whole day meaningful. Look, I have an addictive personality. If a little is good, more is better. I know this. But you know what? If running a race or two makes me feel better for a while - well, 56 minutes and 50 seconds, but who is counting - then so be it. Because it does.

The How, The What and The Why

2010-02-06T15:53:00.000-08:00

F^%$k. That's about all I can say today.

A cursory internet search told me that the following are the 5 most common stressors in life: moving, getting fired, death of a loved one, divorce and public speaking. I am not getting divorced but I am dealing with the other 4 either directly or peripherally, as are friends.

A lot of people I know didn't so much ring in the new year as flash double middle fingers at last year and expected 2010 to bring a whole new bright, shiny day. Not so much so far.

Plus it has rained a lot.

So we move on, but it is hard to watch. It is hard to watch a friend's dad cling to life and he (that friend) is moving and he (that friend) needs to work to eat and he (that friend) has a propensity for isolating and he has had to reach out to friends for help which presumably makes him more uncomfortable therein heightening his overall awareness of the whole odd predicament he finds himself in.

Another friend is watching his dad deny that he needs chemo and radiation to battle the cancer in his throat.

I have my own variety basket of issues going on.

Another friend dealing with an ugly, ugly divorce (not sure there is a beautiful divorce).

And I guess what is odd or what resonates most commonly is that I am 35 and at that age where none of this "stuff" - divorce, terrible economy, bankruptcy, death - is all that surprising, but I would be lying to say I knew how to handle it all at once.

And I am speaking Wednesday night at Triathlon Lab (3328 Pico Blvd, 7pm) on Planning Your Triathlon Season. So right now I am pouring my energy into that. I am finding that my coaching is based on 3 main factors - the how, the what and the why. What - what races will you race amd what are your goals (time, place, just finishing). How - what bite-sized goals and objectives will divide up your year to get you to that "what". And why. Why are you doing it? And this is where I spend the most time as a coach, on the why. If I can crack the why, the how and what take care of themselves. Take the client I met with earlier today, competing in her first Ironman this November. A former athlete, a hyper-competitive personality, the why's are simple. To prove that she can do it, to herself. The how and the what for her fall into place based on the sliver of a ligament left in her knees that are grossly overpowered by the giant heart that will carry her to the finish line if she has to crawl there. Time goals? No need for this one. As I told her, it ain't going to take 10 hours and it ain't going to take 17. It will be somewhere in between. We will plan walking into her marathon plan. We will need longer to build her up to massive training days, no matter how much she freaks out during the process.

But then you take another client who lives and dies by the numbers. The client whose goals include racing to a podium spot. I hate this goal, it drives me crazy. I am never one to set goals based on how other people are going to perform, merely based on how YOU will perform. I try to avoid that one and set ambitious training goals, milestone workouts and monster mileage goals for someone like that.

Me? Well, I am the worst patient of all. My goals are floating in the breeze. I tell myself one thing and do another. I respond to overtraining by overtraining. 6 weeks out from the LA Marathon, my "A" race at which I am attempting to break 3 hours (16 minutes faster than any marathon I have ever run), I am flirting with a groin injury, knee pain and a shoulder injury. So what do I do? I run 50 miles in 4 days. That hurts, so I rest a few days and then bang out 10 miles Wednesday at 6:20 pace. Good lord. I am like a textbook of what NOT to do. I will say this - I do learn a lot about how to deal with the clients just like me (of which there are many).

Tomorrow a small contingent of us are running the Super Bowl 5k and 10k down in Redondo Beach. This is the first race I ever "raced" back in 2001 when I ran a 54 minute 10k and thought I was going to die. I did, in fact, vomit at the finish line. But that day and the feel of racing set in motion a string of events that led to where I am today. The plan is to run the 5k at 7:30 and break 19, take a break, meet up with some old co-workers, then run the 10k and try to break 39. I have done both of these things seperately, it will just be a nice mental boost to do them both back to back.

The next 14 days represent my Peak training for the marathon. I have given myself the last week as a recovery/cross training week and mixed in swimming and biking. The next 2 weeks, however, look like this:

Sunday: Super Bowl 5k/10k
Monday: Core Performance w/ 45 Minute Interval Run
Tuesday: Swim AM/Interval Run PM
Wednesday: 12 Mile Pace Run w/ Intervals
Thursday: Swim AM/Core Performance PM
Friday: 1 Hour Trainer
Saturday: 18 mile run w/ 4 1 mile pick ups
Sunday: Easy mid-distance run
Monday: Easy Swim AM/Core Performance PM
Tuesday: Interval Run w/ Hills
Wednesday: 14 Mile Pace Run w/ Intervals
Thursday: Long Course Swim
Friday: Off
Saturday: TNS group ride to San Diego

From there begins a +/- taper to the Marathon on 3/21. This doesn't mean a drastic drop in volume and there will be NO drop in intensity, but it does mean a gradual reduction in volume and duration leading up to very little the week of the race. I am a big believer in an epic training period before a racem usually ending 3 weeks before a race, but in the case of a running event, 4 weeks of taper/recovery seems important to give the body a chance to get ready for race day.

The Week Where I Ran Too Much

2010-02-03T10:33:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I think of clever titles. Sometimes I do not. The title of this blogpost is not clever. I ran too much last week. I ran 13 miles in Old Agoura last Wednesday, the land where I grew up. It was a very good run but one of those runs where you are running late and running against the clock and in this case running against the sunset and I pushed it too fast. 13 miles at 7:10 pace when it was supposed to be 16 miles at 8:00 pace. Just ran out of time. By the end I was broken and worse I was late so I didn't stretch or cool down or eat properly. Friday I was down in Hermosa Beach so I did 10 miles, most of it in .5 mile repeat intervals up and down the run course for this weekend's 10k. I am fast these days, banging out 5:20 pace reps for a half mile, but just because I CAN, doesn't mean I SHOULD. I swam 1200 afterwards and sat in the hot tub so that was a good cool down. Saturday was a weird 4:30am fog run, just due to schedule and logistics and admittedly it was the fastest 15 miles I have ever run. I managed sub-7 for each mile but again, logistics and timing had me not eating, not stretching and sitting in a car to San Diego for 2 hours. Sunday was a 13 mile run at easy easy pace with the TNS/Core Performance group. But...just because the pace is slow does not detract from the pounding and abuse that running, especially that many miles in that few days, does to your body. I have this lame groin pull which is new and it travels from the "bathing suit area" all the way to my knee. I foam rolled and iced the hell out of it, but it is just nagging. One of those things like the bully in school who never actually hits you but follows you around all day making your life miserable, jsut so you know he is there.

Yesterday I went to buy my usual running shoe, New Balance 904's and OF COURSE they are discontinued. Of course they are. So the shoe salesman, a fat girl, informed me that the 905's which look and feel nothing like the 904's are exactly the same. I wanted to ask her how she would know that but didn't. But I was pressed for time (see a theme) so I took them. Ran 45 on the treadmill this morning and felt decent, so hoping to get a 10 mile run in tonite to confirm. If not, they go back.

This weekend is all or nothing. If it doesn't rain, we are riding LA to San Diego and taking the train back. This is an exhausting but fairly amazing experience. SUnday is the Redondo 5 & 10k's. I love that race, it being the first real race I ever ran. Part of me hopes it rains so I don't have to have my lack of cycling fitness exposed but part of me needs 6 hours on the road to clear my head. And the race? Well, I haven't burned myself out in a race for some time, so bring it on.

Counter - Productive

2010-01-26T08:46:00.000-08:00

I wrote 4 blog posts in my head over the course of the weekend, but I knew through all of them that the title "Counter-Productive" would be the one I stuck with. It has to do with how much I train and fret about weight compared with how many hamburgers I eat at The Counter.

An interesting few days. Spent the last week on a product called Lipo6Black. If you would like to know more about this experiment, a review is available here: http://www.slimmingpillsreview.com/lipo-6-black/. If you aren't interested in reading an entire review, here are the listed side effects: Restlessness, dry mouth, anxiousness, headache, mood swings, some have experienced acne and bloating. Yeah, like a lot. I am prone to mood swings, restlessness, headaches and dry mouth all by myself. The recommended usage calls for 3 pills in the morning, 3 in the afternoon. I started with 3 in the morning, 2 in the afternoon because I have a hard enough time sleeping as is. On these pills, I didn't sleep well at all, I had one friend tell me that if I ever got on cocaine he didn't think I would act much differently than I did last week and on the flip side I almost snapped someone else's head off. I basically spent a lot of time apologizing last week. Definitely not worth the headache. But I know 2 people - triathletes - who have been on it for a while and got great results, so I tried it but wouldn't recommend it to anyone else. My workouts were lousy while on it because my heart rate was always elevated, over 100 resting, up to 160 in training and I sort of always had this feeling that I could alternately paint a house in 32 minutes or crawl into a hole and stay there. It was like being at a constant 3.5 on a scale of 1 through 10.

Got off it Friday and slept in late Saturday. Had a long run on the books but just had 0 motivation. I packed my bike into my car and was headed to my favorite LAX loop for a 90 minute ride and 60 minute run when I got a text. A buddy invited me to a 2 hour spin class down in Manhattan Beach. The cost was $100 and all of the money benefitted Haiti. This meant it combined spending money with raising money for a cause I have absolutely no belief in. On the flip side, he offered to pay and I had been thinking all morning that I wanted to do something out of "the box", so I headed down there for a 2 hour spin class.

So here's the thing about spin classes. Spin classes make me vomit. Spin classes are like a cougar's lair for late 30's, early 40's women who have the most ridiculous bodies strategically located under the most hideous faces. I know, I know, that is a bit harsh and isn't entirely true, but I invite anyone to get into a spin class and tell me I am totally wrong. Here is the population of a typical person spin class:

14 women with fake boobs who let out a "whoop" and a "yeah" every once in a while for no reason
4 women who spin at 145 rpm to let you know that they "want it" a little more than you do
1 gnarly instructor with skinny legs and a headband who is full of caffeine and unflappable enthusiasm
2 dudes of dubious sexuality
2 dudes who vie for the sweatiest man in the world title (I fall into this one)
An older couple who do everything slower than everyone else

So there I am, spinning for 2 hours, pondering the notion that we spend hours and hundreds of dollars getting our bikes fit to perfection and that I am now spinning on for 2 hours on a bike that has exactly 3 clunky adjustments measured in "ish".

I also got seated behind and next to those ladies who felt the need to spin at 145 rpm, even when we were supposed to be climbing. In fact no matter what the instructor told us to do, they just did whatever they wanted. I didn't quite get it. But they sweated a lot, so it was clear that they just wanted it more than anyone else.

So the class went by this way and it was actually pretty cool. We went to the Counter and I ate this month's featured burger - a 1/3lb Angus Beef on an Onion roll with Pancetta and Mozzarella. Highly, highly recommended.

I was, however, kicking myself for not running, so when I got home I banged out 10 miles at race pace and almost threw the burger up but was glad I did it. What was gross, though, was that I was short on time and changed in my car out of my clothes and back into the clothes I wore for the spin class. They were completely soaked and rolled up into a gross little ball.

Sunday was the group run and 3 of us ran a bit over 10 miles. It was a solid run slower than race pace but it was nice to run with 2 people who I have run with many times before who are getting faster and stronger each time I run with them. We also made the run a bit more interesting with a mile repeat at 5k pace and a hill repeat up and down 7th St. from San Vicente. So it was a good run.

Last night was lifting at Core Performance. I was looking for something different so I asked Coach Nick for the hardest workout they had. He went to the computer screen and dialed up the "Dirrty Jersey Shore" workout. I don't know much about Jersey Shore and I never really like anything with the word "Dirrty" slapped in front of it but when he did it, the other coaches looked at me and laughed, so I figured it had to be good. And it was. I am pretty strong and my background is in lifting heavy weights, but I haven't done it in years because I tend to bulk up, therein throwing my whole "trying to get back to my birth weight" regimen to pieces, but last night was old school. Olympic lifts like jerk & press (love that phrase), dumbbell presses with 100 lb weights, RDL's, bent-over rows, etc. It really put me through my paces like I haven't felt in years. Very happy that my shoulder feels good, Max's bowling birthday party Sunday not withstanding. It is on the mend and I test by how fast I can throw a tennis ball across the Core Performance weight floor, which is the rough equivalent of testing the weight limit of a bridge by driivng heavier and heavier trucks over it until it collapses. But it feels good and the old-school Olympic lifting night felt really good. Wouldn't make a habit out of it for a variety of reasons, but it felt nice to break out of the rut.

So after an easier week of cross-training, time to get my eye back on the prize. I am at the point where I can bang out 22 milers with fair ease and where I can bang out 10 milers at 6:45/mi pace with fair ease, but I am mainly at the point of trying to figure out how to merge the two. I have been gradually working 1 mile at race pace, 2 then 4 miles at race pace into my long runs, but I am still not totally convinced of how I am going to get 26.2 miles at 6:45. But the race is over 7 weeks away. Simply put, here is a basic breakdown of where I (or anyone looking to break 3 hours in a marathon) need to be. To run a marathon in 3:00 (6:52/mi), your half marathon time needs to be around 1:25:04 (6:29/mi), 10 km around 38:36 (6:13/mi) and 5 km around 18:34 (5:59/mi).

To that end, I am running the Super Bowl10k on February 7 (www.redondo10k.com). Actually, I am running the 5k and the 10k since they are 45 minutes apart. My goal is to run the 5k in 19 and the 10k in 39. I have done both individually, but never back to back. The next goal is the Pasadena Half Marathon on February 21 where I will shoot for 1:26, but I may save the $60 and figure out a do it yourself half marathon in my neighborhood.

So that's that. Today is intervals, tomorrow long run, more to come.

Periodize Yourself

2010-01-22T12:37:00.000-08:00

Periodization in sports refers to breaking things up into cycles to get the most of each workout, of your week, of your month and your year. We in the "coaching biz" break it up into 3 cycles, (a)microcycle (your week), (b) mesocycle (your month) and (c) macrocycle (your year, or season). I am simplifying; this is a blog. But simply put if you run too hard, too fast, for too long you will eventually get tired, burned out or injured. Except for Jim Lubinski. But for we humans, these are the side effects.

I am working closely with one particular client right now who is not necessarily exhibiting the "classic" overtraining sysmptoms (fatigue/insomnia, excessive appetite/no appetite, emotional ups and downs, poor performance) but who just isn't seeing the results he wants. He is a great athlete, former collegiate swimmer, is logical and methodical about his annual, monthly and daily training plans, but he just isn't seeing the results he wants. So we are starting over.

The first step is identify your goals. What do you want from 2010. I believe in setting an "A", "B" and "C" goal. I am NOT a believer in making those goals about podiuming at a race or achieving a certain position relative to other athletes. This is a recipe for disappointment, it is too fluid. I personally hit the same time at a race last year as I did in 2008. In 2008 I was 4th AG; in 2009 I was 26th. You just never know what others will do and it really doesn't matter. All you can do is control yourself. I don't always encourage setting time goals, but I play that one by ear depending on the client. Some clients need that, others crumble under the pressure of the clock. They get way too hung up on it in training and wind up frustrating themselves. Another way to approach the thing is to compare yourself against yourself. Set smaller, achievable goals throughout your training process that you can hit and feel good each step of the way. For some clients this means hitting a pre-determined number of miles swimming, biking or running. For others it is doing monthly time trials and comparing yourself against yourself. Be careful here, though, as virtually no 2 time trials are the same. One day it's windy, one day it isn't. One day you ate well, one day you didn't. While it is hard to ride a bike or run in a vacuum, do your best to replicate the tests exactly.

Whatever the best way to motivate yourself in training, find it, build your plan around it and for God's sake, take it easy on yourself. One of the harder things of coaching people is watching them get down on themselves for perceived failures. Going back to the previously mentioned client, there is a lot of negative self-talk. Sometime I wonder if being a coach is at all like being a parent, where you see so much more in people than they see in themselves. You just want to shake them and tell them to see what you see, but the shaking would be counter-productive (and illegal) and you have to find a way not to tell them what you see, but to get them to see the greatness in themselves.

So, the periodizing. Look, it's January. The triathlon season runs hot from April to September. There are races in March, October and November, but that is the meat of the season. Summer only really last from Memorial Day to Labor Day, late May to September. So periodize yourself. Ride your bike up a hill instead of just up and down PCH. Hike. Kayak. Take easy weeks. Instead of going 100% for 3 months before you burn out, go 80% in the offseason so you can get 100% out of yourself when it counts.

Things I don't quite fathom

2010-01-20T09:47:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I started and erased at least 3 blogposts. They were all fairly lame. I am finding a trend in my blogposts - they are either whiny and introspective, "navelgazing" my brother calls it, or they are about splits and miles and all things triathlon-related. In point of fact, I was recently told that I should buy a small notebook and write down my feelings, something some people call "a journal" and save the feelings for that. Makes good sense. So after I got done writing and erasing yesterday I said f it I am just going to go for a run tomorrow and craft a blog in my head. And so I did.

Wednesdays are my medium distance runs and Saturdays are my long runs. Last Saturday I ran 20 at a fast clip, almost marathon pace. The run ended on the bike path in Santa Monica by one of those food stands. When the Garmin chirped 20.00 on the dot I stumbled up to the window and asked for a Vitamin Water. $4.12. $4.12 I said? That is ridiculous. But I was dying and I bought it and sat for a few minutes collecting myself. Maybe I sat for 5 minutes. I had to walk to the bridge that crosses PCH, up to Ocean, up California to my house. I am not exaggerating when I say that the 1 mile walk took me 30 minutes. I am also not exaggerating when I say I stopped several times to collect myself. I overdid it. I could barely walk and I definitely could not walk straight. WHen I got home there was a container of deli meat in the refrigerator and I swallowed the whole thing. Then I went to bed. I did for a second think about what they tell concussion victims - do NOT go to sleep as you may not wake up, like ever - but whatever. The second I lay down my muscles starting twitching. It was actually cool to watch, especially in the calves. It also was not so good medically, but I decided to sleep it off. When I woke up 2 hours later, I was in a dark place. Not my room, but my head. I was very dizzy. I met a friend for beer and pizza, which seemed the way to go. From there I had a dinner at a Mexican restaurant, which consisted of beer and enchiladas.

I write all this to let you know how it ends. Spolier Alert! Not well. It doesn't end well. Do not do this. It ends with intense soreness the next day and a generally cantankerous attitude. Here is what I should have done:

1. Ran slower during my run
2. Had that Vitamin Water
3. Hurried home and had at least 500-700 cal in a good mix of carbs and protein
4. Stretched and foam roller
5. Showered (oh yeah, i didn't shower)
6. Napped
7. Eaten again
8. Eschewed the beers
9. Had a healthy, sensible dinner
10. Gotten a good night's sleep

So I decided to back off this week. I haven't been on the bike much or in the pool at all, but I did both Monday. It was actually awesome to get back in the pool, even for only a 1000. My shoulder is healing nicely and I stopped at the first sign of discomfort, progress for me.

So today was a 10 miler on the books. I almost always go up San Vicente and down San Vicente, which at this point kind of makes me want to put a shotgun in my mouth, so I decided to run up Wilshire instead. Wilshire Blvd. Like the busiest street in Santa Monica/LA. On a rainy morning. At 5:30. Spoiler Alert! Bad idea. I had alreayd suspected something but today had my suspicions confirmed. Santa Monica "Big Blue Bus" drivers are total a-holes. I truly feel they are trying to kill as many people as possible. If you are on a bike, running, maybe even if you are a bus passenger, they are trying to kill you. I completely despise them. 4 busses tried to hit me, 2 stopped right in front of me, 3 honked at me. Open message to Bus Drivers: F You. Just because I am running in the street does not give you license to try to kill me. Trust me, I know you are there. Trust me, I am just a bit craftier than you and will not throw you off your precious schedule. Just leave me be.

I wish I could rant better. I miss Adam Carolla being on the radio at morning drive time because man can that guy rant. There are many things I wish I had the chops to rant about - bus drivers, Haitian relief efforts, the potholes in the street, angry cyclists, Bank of America, people that put pictures of their kids as their profile picture on Facebook (yes, even you MAD), people that keep blogs, health insurance, people that talk about the weather, people that come into an office with a cold, Crocs and Ugg boots, Jim Lubinski's superhuman abilities, my car Garmin's lame routes, people that use calculators, birthday celebrations for people over the age of 15, drivers on their cell phones, and many many more things. I wish I could rant about these things.

So there you go. My happy medium between whiny blogging and triathlon blogging.

Hitting the road

2010-01-13T13:57:00.000-08:00

Day 42.

Food scarce.

Body frail.

Spirit high.

Must...Continue...

I have decided to start posting like a colonial prospector would.

Gold hard to come by.

Martha birthed 3 new younglings since last dispatch. Boy thin. Conditions harsh.

Or something like that.

Anyhow, training is good. Removed the bonk monkey from my back with a strong 14 mile run last Wednesday, 18 mile run Saturday. My long runs are no longer just long, slow distance, but have progressed to intervals and Fartleks. Saturday's 18 miler was:

3 mile warm up @ 8', 2 miles @ 7', 1 mile @ 8', 2 miles @ 6'30", 1 mile @ 8', 1 mile @ 6'15", 8 miles @ 7'30. Brekaing it up this way not only made it feel more effective, but also more interesting. 18 miles is 18 miles, no matter how you slice it, so maximizing your effort and efficiency is key. In the base period it is fine and recommended to just log miles on your feet, but as you advance through the stages closer to your race, it is important to inject intensity. This Saturday is a 20 miler broken up similar to the 18.

Notes: Pedialyte, Pedialyte, Pedialyte. I have never - and I mean never - bonked on any kind of workout after drinking a bottle of Pedialyte. I usually drink a bottle the night before and half the morning of. People tend to tell me that's gross and how do I drink it - I say it's not gross and how do they not. It works!

Other notes - find that balance in your weight management and performance. Carrying too much weight will slow you down, but dropping too much weight too fast will stop you flat, as I found out today. Had a salad for dinner last night, and nothing more. Weight is down but I couldn't finish an 8 mile run. On the flip side I ate 2 double doubles at noon before my 14 miler at 4. Perhaps the lesson there is find a happy medium.

bam

Weight, weight, don't tell me

2010-01-05T15:03:00.000-08:00

Losing weight is hard. Getting faster is hard. Finding a job is hard. Building a business is hard. Pretty much all of the things worth having, achieving, maintaining or enjoying in life are hard. Maybe the difficulty of the journey is what makes it worth having. In any case this is a triathlon training blog not a blog of whiny self-introspection, at least not 100% a blog of whiny self-introspection, so here is the training report.

Today is 70 calendar days from the LA Marathon, my erstwhile "A" race for 2010. My training, knock on wood, has been barely shy of perfect. I took November completely off. And I mean off. As with all things, I took it off in the extreme. A week of birthday eating and drinking, pretty much constant drinking to one degree or another, a big weekend in Arizona, big Thanksgiving and then finalizing with 5 hours of wine and cheese in Max's final ballwashing the Sunday after Thanksgiving and 3 cheeseburger Monday at the Counter. And thus November closed with me weighing in at 177 pounds, the heaviest of my life. I was visibly heavy and enjoying every minute. I have long talked about the pigdog who dwells within me. A picture of said pigdog is above. I am 25% Armenian/25% Eurotrash/50% Hungry by nature, that is just me. So it was fun to eat.

But December 1 was the first day of the rest of my life. Not really, it was the first day of marathon training. But f&^k it was hard to get the ball rolling. The formula was weight to run speed vary, but roughly 45 seconds speed gain for every pound lost. So reverse it and I was running S-L-O-W. But I stuck with it and have dropped to 164 thanks to some sacrifices and several small lifestyle changes (bye bye cheese, bye bye 3 cheeseburgers per week, adios sugar in the coffee, see you later bread, hello water, hello vegetables, and pizza - well, pizza let's just be friends).

So here I am 5 weeks later. 13 pounds down, 6ish to go, running around 50-60 miles per week.

Saturday was the worst run so far. Ran in Malibu Creek State Park on an unseasonable 80 degree day. Knowing there are bathrooms out there in the woods, I brought one water bottle. Sadly the drinking fountains were broken (tied into our state's $6 billion budget deficit?) and I seriously contemplated drinking out of the toilet. I am not kidding, I thought about it. But I didn't do it. It was a 16 mile run that blew up at mile 14. I shut down, had to walk. And even the walking was tough, it was all systems shut down. But other than that the training is great. Wednesdays and Saturdays are long runs, Tuesdays and Thursday interval runs and Sundays are recovery.

Trying to mix in 1-2 days of cycling, and saw the effects of dropping my cycling when MICHAEL BYERTS KICKED MY ASS ON FRIDAY OUT ON PCH. I thought I would emphasize this point, hoping that (a) he feels good about beating a weakened man, (b) he sees his name in print and (c) he will stop racing everyone. Triathlon is a juggling act; you work on one thing and the others get weaker.

But I am gunning for a 3:00 marathon, though 3:10 would be acceptable as well. So I am running and eating salads. God, I miss In and Out burger...

What happens next?

2010-01-03T13:32:00.000-08:00

So, seriously, what happens next? I don't know about you, but I have grown pretty weary of the not knowing. I have made a pretty decent life out of knowing and lately - by which I feel I mean the last 3.92 years - I don't know a thing. I know nothing. I don't mean in some grand sense, as in I don't know the meaning of it all or why God or whomever you choose to refer to had this or that in mind, nor do I even know if anyone has anything planned out at all, no I don't mean those kind of questions. I mean I don't know where I will live at the end of this year, I don't know if I will continue to be single, if I will be married, if I will be working a full time job, if I will coach full time, hell I really don't know where my lunch money is coming from these days. That is the kind of thing I don't know.

And you know the sweet irony? The closer I get to being cool with that, the closer I get to answers.

What happens next?

When my brother graduated from college, I got a letter from him in the mail, probably the only letter I have ever gotten from him. It was probably not even a letter but a summons, I don't remember, but inside was a piece of paper. On that piece of paper was a stick figure. A word bubble coming out of the stick figure's mouth said simply - "What happens next?". I have never forgotten that. That's really it, isn't it?

What happens next?

Jeez, what happened?

The last 10 years were my formative years. Being developmentally retarded, my twenties were like everyone else's adolescence. I am way behind the curve. I went to school, got the job I had always wanted, made collosally poor decisions and got fired badly from that job, got another job and got laid off after two years. Throughout everything I never worried. I have never had to look for a job, they have always looked for me. But I was never unemployed under the reign of George W. Bush, the worst president in the history of this country and I find myself oddly unemployed during a time of great tumult and confusion. This is an odd time in history. I am reading a book about World War II that was written pre-9/11 and it talks about how the bombing of Pearl Harbor galvanized this country like nothing before it. Every single person regardless of ideology was on the same page. The same holds true of 9/11. Everyone over the age of 16 can tell you where they were around 7:30am PST on Tuesday, September 11, 2001. But what I remember most vividly was the month following that morning. I remember a sense of community, a sense of purpose and I remember having no doubt about anything. I also remember how ready I was to enlist. I am still not sure I made the right decision there, oh well.

I bring all that up because whatever that oneness, that concept of everyone rowing in the same direction for the greater good is called, right now is the opposite. This time period right now is a blip on the radar, it is a correction back to a more sensible middle, but guess what - it sucks. It sucks financially, it sucks mentally, it just sucks. It sucks seeing foreclosures everywhere, it sucks watching people with families struggling, it sucks that we as a nation, or at least as a people, seem to be in the grip of a paralysis. How many times have we heard - "it's the economy" or "in these economic times". It's an excuse. Sure, it's reasonable, but it sucks. I wish I had better words, I don't.

What happens next?

It hits close to home. I am reminded almost daily of how my own life used to be, what happened and how it is now. I am reminded when I get my ATM statement, I am reminded when I eat out (rarely), I am reminded all the time. But let me not be all doom and gloom.

To reset the 00's, we were out of control. Houses didn't even need to go on the market because people were getting offers every day. Salaries were high, management layers were excessive, some undeserving people made milions and we went to a questionable war. Nothing like a war, no matter how phony to spur the economy. The war machine spins some pretty big wheels. The 00's were a pretty good time. And then George Bush got reelected somehow. And then came World Com. And TYCO. And the dominos fell. CEO's overstating profits, their estates seized and jail time. Pension funds suffered, lifetime workers lost everything. Then there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. And then I got fired. I lost my 401k and my house. And then the housing market collapsed. And then the banks. Entire towns shut down. I got laid off. Hell, everyone got laid off. Every person seemed to know someone else who got laid off. The dominos kept falling. Then Obama, a new hope. An amazing man. But just a man.

What happens next?

I guess I have this hope of my own. My hope is that this all happened for a reason. I hope that the pendelum had swung way too far toward excess, toward reckless spending, toward hedonism in some form and this is all one big reset. I hope that it has now swung the other way - towards closed wallets, towards unemployment lines, towards fear, and maybe now it can swing toward the middle where it belongs. Take Christmas as an example. Maybe Christmas doesn't need to be all about giving and getting a bunch of junk you don't need and can't really afford. Maybe Christmas is also not about stress and giving nothing and locking it down. Maybe there is a nice middle somewhere where it is just about spending time with the ones you love and showing them in a kind, generous way. Maybe the pendelum will swing towards that middle every day. Maybe we don't need $25,000 in credit cards and an overleveraged McMansion but maybe we also don't need to watch our friends on welfare either.

What happens next?

What happens next for me in the 10's is finding that middle as well. What happens is a sensible, 9-5 job and building TNS. What happens next is getting over myself and giving back for the sake of giving back. What happens next is taking all of the lessons I learned in the 00's and not expecting perfection but learning from my mistakes and making the 10's a little better than the decade that came before.

I wasn't even going to write a whiny decade in review, decade ahead of us blogpost as is the trend, but I am weak minded and decided to.

And seeing as I did, I am laying out a list right here in plain view. I heard a quote once: "if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans". I like that. I tend to play God down in my blog posts for the benefit of atheists, well Max, but that line applies to anything. We know nothing. But...I also believe that putting things out there in the universe takes you one step closer to getting them done.

1. Get a full time job. Soon. Give it 100%. Focus on the WHY of doing it, do my best at the HOW of it, focus less on the what.

2. Build TNS to a sustainable, profitable level in the next 36 months.

3. Get back in school. I love school. My happiest time in my life was when I was in school. Not high school, that sucked. I mean college. So I am going back. But I am going back on my terms, solely for the sake of education. So I am going to go back and get a degree in Math, which I love. I love math. I also love other subjects. So it may not be Math but it will be something and I don't care if I take one class per semester, I will go back to school.

4. Qualify for Kona. Yeah, I agree this goal has a certain degree of lameness. But I want it and I am going to get it.

5. Be a good man. So broad, yet so important. Live my life by the LA Times test - would I want what I am doing printed on the front page of the LA Times?

6. Own a house.

7. Vacation once per year - and no, triathlon vacations do not count.

8. Advance as a licensed triathlon coach.

And finally - Always keep moving forward, no matter what.

That is what happens next.

Traction

2009-12-17T12:10:00.000-08:00

They say it takes 3 weeks to create a new habit.

They say habit begets habit.

They say esteemable people take esteemable actions.

They say fake it until you make it.

I do not know who they are. I do not know the science or math behind these things I have said. Here is what I say:

No one is going to do anything for you if you are not prepared to do it for yourself.

It is impossible to do the right thing wrong or the wrong thing right.

Run with your heart and your legs will follow.

What does any of this mean? Do I just write things out to write them? Perhaps. I have come to realize that my blog is 2 parts journal for each part training log and this becomes pronounced when I meet someone who reads it and they are disappointed that this loud writer is a quiet speaker. I am introvert by nature, proven by a body of evidence built over the years, but most recently in a Myers-Brigg personality test. The first sentence said it all: Introverts are drained by dealing with people, Extroverts are charged by it. I like people. Well, that isn't true. I like the people that I like and there are plenty of them. I don't like the people that I don't like, and there are more of them. I wish this wasn't true but I have learned over the years that it is one thing to judge those I do not like, it is another thing to condemn them. I have also learned that one thing about being particular with the quantity and quality of the people I surround myself with is that I end up being fiercely loyal to them. Another curious thing about my friends, I like the underdogs and I like the truly quality people.

What does all of this have to do with anything? There are parallel things happening in my training and personal life. Week 3 of marathon training and week 3 of my job search. When I launched each of these endeavors, motivation was low. I was coming off a month of sloth, cheese-eating, beer drinking and limited movement, the notion of 4 months of progressive training was not at the front of my mind. And the job search? I have never had to search for a job in my life, so buckling down, making calls, informational interviews, applications and rejections, well none of these really appealed either. There are parallels in each; both are arduous and there are no shortcuts in either, but I am starting to feel the traction in each.

The job search has produced little tangible results but the act of doing it has gotten my moving and thinking and producing again. The marathon training, on the other hand, has already yielded visible results, the high point being a 10 mile run at 6:48 pace last night, faster than marathon speed. The weight loss is its own self-propelling cycle, too, because the more weight I drop, the more I can run, the more I can run, the more weight I lose, the better I eat, the more weight I lose and so on and so forth.

So there is traction in goals and inertia in my journey. The job search and the current climate can be disheartening. It is tough to go from making a ton of money at jobs I never applied for to dealing with rejection at jobs that pay 1/3 of what I used to make. I am constantly telling myself (and being told by my friends) to let go of my ego in this process. I try. It is hard. I am not used to this. I am also not used to being totally broke. It is a tough place to be, it is tough to not know if you can pay your bills on the first, it is tough to choose which bills to pay, it is tough to pass up on some dinners with friends because the price is too high, all of that is tough. Regardless of the tough or the irrational fears or the ego drain, the very last thing I want to do is to make a decision based on fear. That leads to short-sighted decisions that backfire in the end. So I persevere.

I guess to close the metaphor, there comes a point in every distance race where you want to quit and this would be very easy. And there are days in this job quest that I feel the same way. There are days when I want to take a short cut or where I get really down on myself. But to paraphrase Mr. Lance Armstrong: "Quitting takes a second but you have to live with forever".

Back in the swing

2009-12-15T10:10:00.000-08:00

Week 3 of marathon training. Saturday was a 16 miler and it was pouring rain. I ran anyway. It was cold and wet but it ended up being a good one. Ran up and over San Vicente, around the VA hospital then back down SV. At SV & Bundy is the mile 22 marker for the LA Marathon and I was at mile 13 of my run. I picked up the next 2 miles at 6:30 pace and felt strong, albeit totally soaked. I hit mile 15 fast, cooled down for the last mile and went home. It was raining and cold and my keys were not in my hiding spot, so I spent the next hour tracking down spare keys. By the time I got into my apartment I was shivering and hungry. Sunday was a 6 mile recovery run, Monday was 75 minute bike and today was another solid run. I warmed up 2 miles and then did 3 repeats of 1 mile each up and down Ocean Blvd. I managed sub-6pace and this made me happy. I have done a better job than ever of keeping my short runs fast and my long runs slow.

Tomorrow is a mid-distance run w/ 2 1 mile repeats in the middle and Saturday is my longest run to date - 18. It will be slow and steady like the majestic turtle.

Running incredibly fast & painfully slow

2009-12-08T11:10:00.000-08:00

Marathon training is surprisingly similar to Ironman training, except you don't bike or swim as much. In point of fact, if you don't want to, you really don't have to bike or swim at all. But it helps.

Week one of training for LA Marathon is in the books. I designed my own program through March 21 and it looks like this:

Monday - Tempo/interval run (6-8 miles)/Strength Training thru January
Tuesday - 60-90 minute bike
Wednesday - Medium - Long run (12-16 miles) @ 80-90% marathon pace/Strength Training
Thursday - Hill run/Interval run (45-60 minutes)
Friday - Off
Saturday - Long run (16-24 miles) @ 75-85% marathon pace w/ last 3 miles at fast/slow/fast
Sunday - "Do something" (recovery run/bike/whatever)

The first week was hard, mainly a matter of pushing the boulder toward the cliff to get it ready to roll itself. In the kinesiology world we call that potential energy, as opposed to kinetic energy. Kinetic energy is energy in motion, potential is just that - the potential for something to happen. I have the potential, but spent most of November eating, drinking, generally slothing and I put on about 10 pounds. In fact last Monday night I weighed in at 176 pounds, the most I have ever weighed in my life. Weight is all bogus anyhow because after a week of training and eating well, I am weighing in at 166. I strongly doubt I lost 10lbs in one week. But I tell you this - I feel every pound lost or gained out there on the run.

Last Wednesday and Saturday were my first quality long runs in months. Saturday I headed 8 miles North on PCH from Santa Monica and 8 miles back. Nothing - and I mean nothing - pisses roadie d bag cyclists off like some tyrannasourus rex lumbering in their bike lane when they are riding 2 wide and veering into the traffic lane. I love their indignance at my presence there when they cannot even hold a line anyway.

I really seek out aggravation and trouble.

Last Thursday I took to the California Incline for 5 repeats up and down. It is short, about a one minute up and down, but it is intense. It is one of those things where you get a surge of energy for the first 15 seconds and for the last 15 seconds but that middle 30 seconds is just sheer determination. It is also one of those things where you hit the top of the hill and want to vomit.

Last night was a key run, one of the best runs I have had in over a year. Nick from Core Performance designed a treadmill workout that he has been threatening me with for some time. Nick looks like this guy in the picture. But, to his credit, the guy can design a workout. 22 minute workout that he put me through twice. 1 minute warm up then 35 seconds at 5 minute/mile pace, 30 seconds easy, 35 seconds at 5 minute/mile pace, repeat 14 times (28 times when you do it twice). The first few were a shocker - very fast. Then I settled into a rhythm of breathing and cadence. But the last 10 were hell. I found myself counting the seconds. By the end I could barely walk and I didn't sleep so hot last night because my heart rate was so jacked. I woke up today and got on the bike for an hour and took at least half that time just to find my legs.

But I am back and eating better and feeling better about my fitness but also life in general. The last two months have really sucked. But IronMax (when will the Iron-ball washing cease?) pointed something out to me when I was right in the thick of my relationship/financial crisis/unemployed/cheese eating malaise - tragedy + time = comedy. Being the mathemagician that I am, that resonated. I am feeling better now that I have turned to many people in my life and asked for help. One friend totally redid my resume for me, several others have hooked me up with job leads and interviews, even my dumb brother has been a real help in terms of advice and support. And things look good. I have to say I didn't know how bad this economy was until I started looking for a job. It sucks. I am ultimately not concerned but when I made the decision to spend the last year getting TNS up and running, all the while knowing I would go back to a steady clock-punching job once it was, I didn't know things would get this bad. Well, it is.

I am at this age - 35 - where I am surrounded by friends entering into the next phase. Here I am, with a fledgling business built around my passion but also a personality that doesn't do well waking up every day needing to go out and scratch out my living and I am seeing two interesting things in my peer group. One, many of them who kept climbing the corporate ladder now want off. They are finding that they got the titles and the salaries and now the trappings of that path have turned into traps. They have mortgages and cars and they aren't happy. So many people want out. I attribute a big portion of this to the economy. I think it was probably one thing to find yourself with a $10,000/month nut when you had $200k equity in your house in the Valley, but it is quite another when you are upside down. Makes it a lot harder to swallow and a lot harder to get excited for each day.

The other thing I am seeing is divorce. This is the other thing I did not do at 25 - get married. I was so convinced that this is how life was supposed to go:

Graduate college - check
Get job out of internship I worked in college - check
Meet girl - check (and check and check and check)
Marry girl - check
Promote in job - check
Buy house with girl - check
Have 2 kids with girl - check
Become boss of company - check
Retire at 50 - check

This was pretty much the map that I thought life was supposed to follow. And then this happened:

Graduate college - check, after 8 years
Get job out of internship I worked in college - check
Meet girl - check
Meet other girl - check
Marry neither of them - check
Promote in job - check
Buy house by myself - check
Have 2 kids - almost
Leave it all (job, girl) behind unceremoniously in 2006 - check
Lose house - check
Travel around the country doing manual labor, "finding myself" - check
Land even "better" job that i hate - check
Make more money than I know what to do with - check
Rack up more debt than I know what to do with doing God knows what with it - check
Spend as much time as possible trying to get laid off - check
Get laid off - check
Spend 6 months redefining myself as an Ironman and coach - check
End up happier - and broker - than ever before - check
Build a business with quality friends, partners and customers - check
Get it up and running, figure out you miss the structure and stability of a job that you resented so much before - check
Go out, get job, do NOT repeat - in process

So this is the path I actually took. The path I am taking. It is not what I thought it would be and the fact that it is not the path that I thought it would is precisely what has caused me so much angst the last two months. Well that and having someone who had known me through the whole thing tell me I would not ever be enough for her because I will never own a private jet. Also, that sucked.

Here is what it comes down to, for me. There are always those who say - do what you love and the money will come. There are also those who say - money is all that matters.

They are both wrong, and both right.

At the end of the day for me it comes down to this - I want to leave the world a better place than I found it. That is it, that is the most fundamental tenet I can live by, the simplest rule. Every day I want to contribute to a greater good. For me, I cannot do that when I am broke because I am miserable. I also cannot do that when I am in a job I hate because it makes me miserable. So I have reached a middling point in my life where I can find happiness in the WHY of what I do as opposed to the WHAT. TNS gives me the what. That is my passion, my dream, my joy. That is the thing that I can wake up every day fired up to do. Charrissa is doing an Ironman next November; I am now excited about something through next November. I think about it every day. I run with Don every two weeks, or more; I get excited about watching him develop. Max, Susan, Lisa Jo, Lesley, Michael, Anthony, I think about these people every day and how I can help them. But the money isn't there yet. We are profitable but I need a full-time job. So the WHY of a full-time job is that if I make spreadsheets or run a company or sell sunglasses, it is just a means to an end.

For me, it took me all this time and a circuitous path to realize that the WHAT of my career is no longer as important as the WHY.

I'm fat, my shoulder hurts and I am running a marthon for real

2009-12-02T09:31:00.000-08:00

I don't have a ton of time to blog so I figured I would just put all of it into the title. Like most movies these days.

I'm fat - I hit 176 pounds Monday night after 2 burgers at the Counter, fries and 2 cokes. I have been eating high concentrations of cheese, pizza, burgers, deserts, beer and wine. 176 is 18 pounds heavier than I raced IMAZ and 15 pounds heavier than I raced Vineman this summer. I told Max that I had officially hit my weight bottom. He told me I had officially hit my weight top. Good point.

My shoulder hurts - My left shoulder popped at Malibu in September. It was audible, it slowed me WAY down on the siwm and it hasn't gone away. I sleep like the Bangles "Walk Like an Egyptian" is playing - left arm up, right arm down and I wake up everyday in pain. So I finally had it looked at and I have the impingement syndrome. So disappointing as I love swimming so much, but I can't swim for at least a month. That is sarcasm. I am going to work on strength exercises to get it back.

I am running a marathon for real - LA Marathon 2010. I ran a 3:16 marathon a few weeks on 0 training. So...I am pretty sure I can bust out a sub-3 if I really train for it. Added incentive includes the weight loss that comes with running and the fact that the course ends by my house this year. We run the last miles down San Vicente and Ocean.

Finally - one last congrats to Max for his Ironman and now the 2 week Max Miller ball-washing can come to an end! (Love you man).

Lost & Found

2009-11-24T10:12:00.001-08:00

Found: At Ironman Arizona, pure joy. Also found were inspiration, awe, wonder, emotion, new friends, team spirit, an old friendship revitalized.

Lost: Doubt.

I don't really know where to begin with my thoughts on this past weekend's Ironman Arizona experience so I will just begin at the beginning.

It started 12 months ago after I got done with Ironman Arizona and started nagging at Max to sign up for the race. He hemmed and hawed as is his wont, but mainly told me a dozen reasons why he couldn't do the race at this time, but how he wanted to do one eventually. Well, I didn't take I will do one eventually for an answer. I finally got him to sign up after doing Oceanside this past year. I gave him a couple of months to get ready and in June we officially begin our training.

I was asked several times this weekend how I knew he could do this race and my answer was - the size of his legs and the size of his heart. After what I saw this weekend, his legs took him 132 miles of the way and his heart took him the last 8.6.

So we drove Thursday, ate horribly all day - In N' Out burgers, Oregano's pizza, junk food and lots of it. Me not racing meant beers all weekend. And I grew a beard. This was the vacation I needed.

Friday was the first sighting of nerves. We did a little swim, hung out and picked up Sofia around 3. We went over to the expo so Max could check in and shop and I ran one backwards loop of the run course (8.7 miles or so). I did not run backwards as that would be hard on my knees and I would probably trip. I mean I ran the clockwise loop in reverse. I need to get very familiar with a course so that I know the hills, the sprints, water stations, the points of inspiration and desperation and I really wanted to know exactly where to tell our athletes to begin their kicks.

It turned out the check in was closed and Max had his first moment of panic when he thought he couldn't check in on Saturday. For a brief minute he thought he would not be racing. It was an awful moment but then we figured out he could check in Saturday. Friday night was more Oregano's pizza, more beers and more of me being the "funny" guy I usually am, giving the wait staff a hard time, cracking jokes, all of it, which meant that for the first time in months I felt like myself. I have had two months of not being myself, of selling myself short to appease someone else and I was finally feeling like me again. Sprinkle some incredible friendship with Max and Sofia and it was just amazing.

Saturday morning the "T - 24 hours" switch flipped. We were getting down to it. Max and I headed down for the pre-race swim/run brick and met Anthony, his friend Burt Kim and her friends. I had Max work primarily on entering and exiting the weird water stairs just so he would not have to worry about it Sunday. We then ran 1.2 miles down the course and back. Why 1.2 miles? Because this represented the exact distance I would have him sprint on Sunday. On the IMAZ run course the last turn occurs with 1.2 miles to go and then it is nothing but a long straightaway. I knew that he could handle a progressively faster 1.2 miles, so we worked on some 30 second pick ups on that little 15 minute run. Relaxed most of the day, then met our LARGE group at PF Chang's for a pre-race diner. Max's parents, Sofia's family, family friends and the core TNS crazies. Sofia and I presented Max with the book we put together over the last months of training/racing pictures and letters from friends. And boy did he cry. Lucky bastard got saved by the overly loud PF Chang's or he might have started crying about his childhood or a sad movie or something. It was incredibly moving. In fact the whole damn weekend was incredibly moving. So I went out and got drunk for the first time in months. Dave, Charrissa and Eve and I went out and it felt nice to, again, not worry about anything for a night. Really fun.

And then came Sunday. Up at 4, not feeling great but propped up on adrenaline and caffeine. My role was to make sure Max had everything and then get myself into a kayak. Part of advancing through the USA Triathlon coaching ranks is volunteering so I decided to help manage the swim course in a kayak. Turns out the best view of an Ironman swim start is from a kayak. I have never kayaked before, but me being me positioned myself directly in front of the mass of swimmers near the wall. I was overwhelmed by what I saw. Nerves, resolve, tears, fear (not 1 but 2 people asked me if I had goggles. Weird thing? I did have 1 pair. Not 2 though).

BOOM goes the dynamite and away they go. I never stop getting inspired by the mass swim start of an Ironman. It is just inexplicable, has to be seen. About 30 minutes into the swim my role went from security to coach and I spotted a woman who was just lagging. The cut off time is 2 hours, 20 minutes for the swim and she wasn't 1/4 of the way after 30 minutes. So I made it my business to get her to the finish. I kayaked next to her, she would stop every so often and hold on and then keep going. We looked pretty good. With 45 minutes left she had less than a mile which in my book was a slam dunk. She was slow but steady. Another kayaker joined us, then a paddler. We shouted words of encouragement. 40 minutes to go, 1/2 mile but she was slowing. 30 minutes ago, first moment of..she might not make it. HURRY UP! YOU'RE DOING GREAT. Another kayaker joined us. We started to know. But we had a collective hope. 10 minutes to go she hits the second to last buoy, less than 1/4 mile. Now we can see the finish, over 1,000 people standing and cheering. 6 minutes to go she rounds the last buoy, 200 meters to go. Ugh. HURRY! YOU CAN DO IT! We get passed by another swimmer and a few people rowing with her. I am doing math like crazy. 4 minutes to go. I have been lying to her the whole time, paddding by a minute, but now we are really at 4 minutes to swim 150 meters. We are losing ground to the woman who passed us. Everyone is shouting. 3 minutes to go, 100 meters. She stops to say thank you. She looks at me, there is a monent. A moment that ended with me saying STOP TALKING AND START SWIMMING, YOU WILL DO THIS! 90 seconds to go, 50 meters. I can throw a rock and get there. 45 seconds, oh my god no. The woman who passed us hits the stairs. And now I know. COME ON! COME ON! I bang my kayak with my oar, we have an entourage of 20 kayakers and paddlers. The community spirit was at a fever pitch. The hairs on my arm are standing up. 20 seconds, maybe 20 meters, come on! 10 seconds, 15 meters. 5 seconds, 10 meters. Oh my God no. Oh my God no. Please please find it. And then it happened. TIME! 5 meters to go. Clock hits 2:20. It is over. I burst into tears, couldn't help it. She doesn't know it yet. Others are crying and there is a collective exhale from the crowd. This woman, #2400 would be the first swimmer to not make it to the cutoff. I can't explain how that felt, unless I just explained how it felt. I just rowed away, I needed to be alone.

Returned my kayak and found the group. Max and Anthony were both ahead of pace and we would watch Max go by us twice on the bike. Watching an Ironman is a lot of math, at least for me and between the numbers, the feelings, the hangover and the heat, I was feeling a but overstimulated. We headed down to the run course and I finally got to eat, something I had not done since 4am. This did not help.

I will cut to the chase. Max and Anthony were killing it. Anthony was on Kona pace and Max was poised to break 13 hours, no easy feat in your first Ironman. And we waited. I saw Anthony running by to begin his 3rd loop and I knew by math and by feel that he had been on Kona pace and had fallen off. I know him well enough to know by his form that he was breaking down. Instinct kicked in. I ran with him. I jumped in the race and told him that he needed to run a 7:30 pace. He slowed and sped, but he held it. With 1.2 miles to go I told him - after 139.4 miles under your belt, your race, your goal of Kona all comes down to this 1.2 miles. Who gets this chance? No one. I knew he had to pick off 2 runners in his age group to go. With .5 miles to go he caught one. And then the miracle happened and he found a 7th gear. He cranked it up. With less than 200 meters to go he picked off the last 40 year old, sprinted to the finish and is headed to Kona. It was truly inspirational.

An hour later, the next miracle happened. Max ran by for his 3rd loop and was clearly dying. I ran with him and we talked and laughed and bemoaned and got him out of his head. With 1.2 miles to go I told him that I had never asked him for anything for a year of coaching him until now. I asked him to run the last 1.2 miles as fast as he could. At 400 meters to go, I watched a transformation. He sprinted and I mean sprinted. I ran him to near the finish and stopped. I will never forget watching his sprint to the finish. The lights were shining, the crowd was cheering, Mike Reilly called his name out and all I could here was "Thank You". It was Sofia. Amidst all the noise, that's all I heard and I lost it. I had to go off and collect myself because I could not stop crying. It was a day of catharsis and vindication.

But here is what I learned Sunday. I love coaching and I am gifted at it. I got more joy out of coaching those 2 guys, out of supporting every single person on that course in some way, then in racing. I learned that every one has the right buttons to push. Max said to me at the beginning of our run that he was sorry for letting me down, but he would have to walk. I told him to shut up and let's have a nice walk. From that moment on he ran far faster than he had before that. By releasing his expectations and pressure, I set him free. By driving Anthony with numbers and competition, I set him on fire.

In the end, I found the joy I have tried to instill in others.

New in Town

2009-11-19T21:16:00.000-08:00

So here we are, night 1 of Ironmax's epic Iron journey 3 days before the Ironman. IRONically the only thing this spacious condo we are staying in does not have is an IRON.

But seriously folks...

6 hours in the car, 12 great conversations, 18" of large pizza and 2 beers later, I just can't believe it has been 1 year since I was here for IMAZ 2008. One year ago Jim, Cortney and I sat in the same restaurant that Max and I just returned from and ate much pizza. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?

Interesting to use the same experience one year prior compared against itself and I am grateful to be where I am. I spent the last few weeks judging myself by the dollars and status I do not have when I should have been grateful for the friends and experiences I do have. Or put more eloquently by Max during the journey:

The measure of a man is not how much he can suffer but how much he can transcend the suffering and find the joy.

I thought that was pretty cool.

So here we are. Punch drunk, the early onset of nerves creeping in for Max, the rough year behind weighing on me, and in the end both looking forward to Sunday for whatever it means to both of us individually. To make it mean too much is a waste but to deny its meaning is also a waste. It will be what it will be. We have let go of time goals and numeric metrics of success or failure, but both know what he can do.

At this point, as Cortney would say, the hay is in the barn and as Jim would say it is time to stop being comfortable and embrace the pain.

I for one just want to sit in a kayak for once and watch.

Things to do when you are down

2009-11-13T11:31:00.000-08:00

Why do we fall? So we can learn to pick ourselves back up. - Batman Begins

I am by nature a moody person. I am not a sad person, nor a happy person. I am both. I spent a lot of time trying not to be moody, but then I realized I am just moody and what I can do is to take steps to minimize the downs, maximize the ups and be happy with who I am.

The last month has been a rough one. One of those months where it is just like when is enough enough? A series of individual things that would have been bad enough spread out over a year, all stacked up in a two week period. And it just got to me and I let it send me into a spiral.

I still have my moments, but am feeling much better. I figured I would write down some of the things that got me out of the funk.

1. It's all just temporary. Feelings aren't facts and the facts are that feelings go away. What you feel in one moment in time is not the truth that you will feel one second from now. The things that seem unbearable right now probably will feel a tiny bit better in an hour and the hour after that.

2. Get moving. Everything sort of culminated for me on Halloween and all I wanted to do was lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. Instead I went to dinner with some friends, ate candy and got moving. It was contrary action for sure and I can't see I really felt like leaving my house, but the simple act of getting out and about made me feel better the next day.

3. A little help from friends. It is pretty easy to find friends during the good times, the high times when everything is cool, but is when things are rough that your true friends prove themselves. All of this coincided with my birthday and it was really cool to have so many people to spend time with.

4. Don't take anything personally (from The Four Agreements) - Turns out every person has their own agenda and own schedule and that although they may do things that hurt you, they did not do it on purpose most of the time. Further, people cannot hurt us unless we choose to let them, unless we choose to view it that way.

5. Esteemable people do esteemable things. I spend way too much time thinking about myself. When I am really down, it is often the case that I am in my own head, worrying about my own things. I was feeling pretty low when I woke up the day after Halloween, but I went on a run with Don and worked on his form and I felt better for it afterwards.

6. Try something different. Monday night Max, Sofia and I went to Umami Burger. It was the best hamburger I have ever eaten. I always go to the Counter. It was nice to break out and try something new.

Just some of the things that crossed my mind. You can also run a marathon if you like; that also helps.

35 years old + 1 marathon, 2 trophies, 3:16, 12 athletes, 1 dog + >/= 10 great friends & family - Birthday Angst x (4 hamburgers) = Awesome Weekend

2009-11-09T07:58:00.000-08:00

I wrote this blogpost during the marathon that I won Saturday. Ask Jim, I told him about it. How did I get here? Let me back up.

I turned 35 this weekend, kind of a lame birthday in the birthday spectrum. First, it means I can now be POTUS according to the US Constituion and I am not. That troubles me. Second, it means I am in an older age group. Third, I feel that I am now 100% officially out of the "Young Adult" category. Four, I don't have a wife and kids (that I know about, wink wink). Five, it was sort of novel to have grey hair when I was 17. At 35 I just look haggard. So for those five reasons I decided early in the week that I would run a marathon on my birthday and I found this one. I breakfasted with Jim last week and seeing the state I was in mentally he didn't hesitate to jump in with me.

So we sign up, have a few drinks Friday night and meet up at the wee hours of Saturday morning to head down to Huntington Beach. Mind you, neither of us is trained for this thing, I haven't run more than 13 miles since August and he is just coming off the World Championships for ITU Long Course in Perth, AUS. The whole point was to finish, nothing more.

Then we showed up at the "race site". It was a neighborhood park. And no one was there except for a dude in his van with 2 Gatorade jugs and some chalk. I am not making any of this up. Then a woman shows up and I roll down the window of Jim's creepy van and ask her if she is here for the race, in spite of the fact that she is holding cash and a registration form. She says yes but I tell her the race is sold out, too many people. She freaks out, I laugh. No one ever laughs at my jokes. Anyhow, by now it is 6:15, the race is scheduled to start at 6:30 and a few more people show up. Jim and I get out of the car, go to the "start line" (chalk on the ground) and the race director says "which one of you is Brian and which one is Jim". It would appear that we were in the right place. It's 6:25, there are 11 of us by my count and we seem ready to start. That is when he announces the race course. 10 laps of 2.62 miles. Again, I am not kidding. None of this is a joke. Jim just got back from the Elite Long Course WORLD Championships. We are both wearing TNS running shirts, racing flats, warming up, and here is this race. And I cannot stop laughing. This is 100%, exactly what I had hoped for. It was so laid back, so inexplicable, so different and fun.

And then I realized I could win. Well, more specifically podium, lest I forget who I was running with. But we couldn't start the race until Rob showed up. Who is Rob? The race director's buddy who supposedly runs a 3:01 who would be running with his dog. So we waited. When is the last time you did a race that was delayed so you could wait for a racer? It was pretty funny. Rob finally drives up, then takes forever to get out of his car and I say he may be fast, but he needs to work on that car to start line split. Rob lines up with his dog and we are off. The first loop was Jim, Rob, the dog, a guy named Sam and me. And we are all evenly matched. The course is so "grassroots" that those guys missed a turn and I called for them and we slowed down to wait for them to catch back up. We were all together for the first loop (19:00) but Jim and I ran sub 18 for the second loop and lost them. There were a bunch of turnarounds so we could see our lead growing, but at the 5th and 6th loops my IT band really tightened up and started tugging on my knee and our pace slowed considerably. The guy named Sam started to close the gap a bit so our last 4 loops were fast. Our last loop was sub-18 and we pounded.

Now before we get to the big finish, it needs to be said that Jim would have been sub-3 hours. It also needs to be said that my fastest marathon time was last year at Ironman Arizona, 3:39. It became clear when we crossed the halfway point of this race at 1:34 that we would crush that.

So back to the big finish. My body was shutting down at this point. I hadn't gone to the Ipod for 95% of the race, but I put it on with 2 miles to go. The aforementioned crazy lady was in our sights and we tried to catch her so we could lap her but it was obvious that she wasn't having any of it. She kept doing that move where she would turn around slightly to see where we are and then run faster. Jim tried to push me to run faster but I didn't have any more to give. I have to guess our last mile was 6:30. I was getting dizzy and everything was closing in so I just turned up the music and gritted it out. We were side by side and I suggested that we confuse the race director and cross the line holding hands but we just sort of approached the line and at the very last second Jim stopped and said happy birthday. It was pretty cool. I could slap a dozen asterisks on this race, but at the end of the day, we ran a race really fast and we won. That is pretty cool.

More than anything, it was a reminder that I have some great friends.

Highs, Lows, Middles and such

2009-10-27T08:59:00.000-07:00

Stick around the world of endurance sports long enough, whether on the recreational or professional level, and you see the same things.

You see people who inspire you, you see people who frustrate you. You see people who dig deep and excel and you see people who defeat themselves.

I have seen it this year and what a year it has been.

This year I have coached, raced or observed the Desert International Tri, Oceanside 70.3, Boise 70.3, Bulldog 50k run, Malibu (Olympic & Classic distances) and this past weekend - Soma 70.3. I have coached over 250 athletes of all levels, with all goals, and have seen some very high highs and some very low lows.

In March a group of us spent a training and racing weekend in La Quinta, a heavy training weekend geared towards prepping for the Oceanside 70.3 but also racing the Desert International Tri. Interesting lesson in the strengths and weaknesses of the human psyche. Jim was still an amateur and was battlng a nasty, bloody, disgusting saddle sore inside his leg. I watched someone completely overcome any doubts, tolerate incredible pain and finished a 25 mile bike course in under an hour, on his way to crushing his age group. Amazing what the mind can do. On the flip side, Max and I were out there solely to train for Oceanside and were to treat the race as a training day. We rode 90 on Saturday and ran 10. In the heat. We told ourselves it was a training day and the race meant nothing. Yet we both beat ourselves up after the race and needed Sofia to stop the slippery slide into depression before it got worse. Lesson learned - HTFU. Harden the f up. Be grateful for what you have, don't sit around and be upset about what you don't. If you set a goal, if you have a plan, stick to it. Targets cannot be floating and arbitrary and you can't change them in the middle of the game.

Oceanside 70.3 was another lesson learned. The lesson learned here was - be fair and realistic in your goal-setting and again - don't change the rules as they go. This would be the first 70.3 for Max with me as his coach and for no good reason I placed unrealistic time goals on him the night before the race. Lesson learned - don't change the rules and also - be realistic. Know that the things you say can have a profound effect on the people you say them to.

May brought the Boise 70.3, with Max and Jim toeing the line. Lesson learned here - progress, not perfection, but also that near perfection is possible. Max crushed his previous time on this course by an hour and Jim would find himself in the hunt (at least near it) for an overall victory. For 2 guys on totally different paths, the result was the same. The picture was starting to come into focus. Max COULD finish an Ironman. Jim COULD go pro.

June was a pretty lame month for me personally and I almost found myself at Ironman France. I can just say this - thank God for unanswered prayers.

July was the breakthrough month. Vineman was a breakthrough on many, many fronts. The lesson learned here was - always keep moving forward. Vineman was the first race where I truly began to believe 3 things - one, I am an actually good athlete, two, Jim Lubinski is not a human being and three, TNS was going to make it. I should just say now that Vineman was hot, pushing 100. And you think wine country, so maybe you think moist, lush conditions, but nothing could be further from the truth. That run course was exposed and hot as Arizona. Joanna and Lesley both surprised themselves with their times. My favorite post-race memories are of a deliriously ecstatic Joanna taking shade under a table in the middle of a field and Lesley committing immediately post-race to doing another one, much faster. Jim? Not normal. My start time was sufficiently staggered from his as such that I should have seen him at about my mile 2/his mile 11 on the run. I did not see him. Maybe he's having an off day and I will see him around this corner, or this one. Never did. Either he is off the charts fast or I am. Turns out both were true. He CRUSHED that nasty run course and so did I, both of us shattering our PR's. Oh, and for what it's worth, I rode the last 5 miles of the bike on busted wheels. Double flats with no spare. I gritted it out. Anything is possible. And as for TNS? It was an amazingly gratifying experience to see our uniforms out on that course, especially after all the trouble we went to just to get them. Running towards Lesley resplendent in TNS teal at mile 8 and giving her the biggest bear hug was an awesome feeling. I knew right then and there that we were on to something that no other coaching company could match.

August was the Bulldog 50k run, a bone-crushing, 2 lap sufferfest. Each lap meant a climb over a 1,500 mountain. This is going to sound odd, but it was really easy. My final time was around 5:00, but between having friends like Sofia and David out there supporting me, having hundreds of training miles in my legs and to be honest - to not have the stress of a swim and a bike beforehand, the miles flew by and I finished in the top 20. I say this not as an ego boost, but more as a surprise. It was really easy and I did well. There is a big part of me, the part that likes the reward of numbers and stats, that could easily slip into ultramarathoning if for no other reason than the ego gratification.

September was Malibu. Malibu was a mixed bag. Personally, I was tired and a bit burned out and as an athlete just couldn't get fired up. Both of my shoulders popped during the swim and still don't feel right as I type this but I did manage a run PR. As a coach with over 200 CHLA athletes out on the course, though, it was great to spend a day just watching, learning and talking to people. To be a part of raising over $1,000,000 was more than just icing on the cake; it was the cake.

And most recently came Soma, this past weekend. This weekend I saw some pretty amazing displays of what we can do. I have to start with Charrissa. Out on a training ride pre-race she laid her brand new bike down and it died. Charrissa is intense, like most triathletes. She also has mad untapped potential, also like most triathletes. But what I saw in her this weekend was a mad display of selfless and kindness as she stuck around Sunday, put on her strongest game face and cheered her fool head off for everyone out there. For that I will be forever proud of her. TNS is taking up a bike replacement fund. Any little bit helps; if you want to donate, send a Paypal to max@grrhss.com, label it Charrissa's Mulligan and Max will make sure she gets every red cent. And speaking of Max...Max is a thinker, an over-thinker. We are good friends, but we could not be more opposite in our decision-making processes. This guy overthinks and deliberates and weighs and measures. Me? I just act and don't think. Ever hear the phrase measure twice, cut once? I cut twice, never measure. Max? Max measures 6 times, blogs about it, researches it, makes the shop give him 4 measuring demonstrations, then cuts a great deal to have someone else cut for him. In my humble opinion, he could stand to be a bit more like me, and I could benefit from being a lot more like him. Which is why when he hemmed and hawwed all weekend about maybe not racing because his head hurt, I had my doubts. I worried about the psychological effect quitting a race one month before IMAZ. BUt I am learning and I listened and I realized it was more than a headache he was facing, it was a serious chemical distrubance rattling around his head and there was nothing he could do. He was really struggling. And for this fact alone, finishing a 70.3 was miraculous. But to hammer out a 5:27 on a blistering hot day? Unbelievable. Beyond the physical tools I have tried to help the guy develop, I would like to think I have squeezed more psychological strength out of him than he knew was there. It isn't that I personally did anything great or gave him something he didn't already have, but I safely say that my coaching has pushed him further than he ever thought possible. I realized at some point this past weekend that when I look back on 2009, I can feel pretty good about how I have helped him.

With one last small race on the books - Ironman Arizona - I could not ask for much more than what I have had the chance to see this year. It has been an amazing year of ups and downs. People have been asking me - so what are you going to do next year? In the triathlon circle, this means what races are you doing next year? But for me, my plans next year extend beyond races. 2010 should be a banner year - I should be engaged this time next year - something I never thought I would say out loud, much less on my blog. I should finally be back on a financial track that doesn't have me waking up in the middle of the night stressed out, and I should have TNS running with a life of its own. New coaches, experienced athletes like Charrissa and Michael stepping up and taking roles as mentors, destination races, better uniforms (because I don't like my undercarriage torn up after every bike ride or run), stronger relationships and a wider array of athletes under our umbrella.

Which is not to say I will not be racing. I have to put out there on this forum something Max has pointed out to me for some time. I think I have been afraid to train at 100% and lay it on the line at the 70.3 distance. I banged out a 1:28 half marathon Sunday, 4th in the relay division. Last year I banged out a 2:14 bike in the same race, 2nd best in the relay division. The point is this - I have been afraid to train 100% and succeed or fail, whatever that means. Maybe I compare myself to other people too much, maybe I don't know what. But I would love to go to Vineman next year and see what I can do. So next year? Whatever I do, I am going to do it 100%.

Running In The Rain, Ready to Race, Shameless Sponsor Plugs and other forms of alliteration

2009-10-14T16:58:00.001-07:00

This blogpost is a bit all over the board. There were bits and pieces of things floating through my head the past few days that I figured might be blog-worthy, but nothing meaty enough to hold its own weight. I will be firing off my thoughts rapid-fire style, in no particular order.

1. I had the best run this morning that I have had in months. Max and I came up with 5 goals for his Ironman training and 1 was a 1:35 half marathon. I had wanted to do that with him today, but the schedule didn't work so I figured I would just do it myself. I ran all over Santa Monica and Venice in the pouring rain. I felt like a little kid. I wore the iPod and I had accidentally stuck the damn thing to Japanese as the default language and worse set it so that one song just repeats, so I listened to one AC/DC song, one Death Cab for Cutie song and one Jay-Z song over and over again. This is crazymaking. It also made for a great run.

2. I have been hitting Core Performance Center 3-4 times per week for the last 6 weeks. It admittedly feels weird to focus so much on strength and core work as opposed to purely aerobic, but I could really feel the difference in today's run. My back is healed, my shoulders are getting there and I have a power back that I haven't had in years. As you progress through the CP program, its intuition takes power and builds more and more challenging programs based on your strengths and weaknesses. It is exciting to see where it leads.

3. Infinit - I have been using Infinit for years now and have turned quite a few people onto it. You design your own formula based on your race, your preferences, etc. My formula is here: http://www.infinitnutrition.us/productcart/pc/viewPrd.asp?idproduct=16&idaffiliate=184. Check it out.

4. My next race is the run leg of the Soma Half Ironman next weekend. After that - 100k (that's 10 10k's) in February 2010. More to come...

What to do after the noise is gone

2009-10-08T11:22:00.000-07:00

Went for a run last night at 4:30. Sometimes a run is a real grind, everything is tight or achy or sore, maybe just slow to respond and maybe you click somewhere around 20 minutes, maybe at 30, maybe you never click. Other runs, everything flows from the gun. Your joints are lubed, your head is right, even a headwind can feel ok, because you are in a good place. That was last night. Sunset run Manhattan to Hermosa, through Redondo towards PV, turn around, hill repeats for a spell, wood chip trail for a bit, mainly on the Strand, dodging sand piles after a windy week. But it felt good and more than anything purposeful, something sorely lacking from my runs of late. It is during these times that I write things in my head or sort things out. I don't listen to an Ipod much anymore, mainly because the ringing in my ears started to worry me last year but also because I simply have yet to find the right headphone/earbud/headstrap combination that will actually keep the things in my ears. But I sorted through some things.

It is the fall now. It is getting colder, days are getting shorter and this basically signals the end of the triathlon season. Except for Max. Sucker. TNS has one more race - Soma - in 2 weeks but really for all intents and purposes, the season is over. The past 2 weeks have been conversations with clients about the year that was and the year that will be. So this got me to thinking about coaching, my place in the lives of these people, how I/we got here, and where we go from here. So to start at the beginning of me as a coach and why/how I do what I do...

I graduated college in 1999. Lots of people take 7 years to finish college. They are called doctors. But I graduated college in 1999 and the day after my graduation was my first day as Operations Director for the Los Angeles Galaxy. I worked for this man - Sigi Schmid - who was and is two things. A real cantankerous SOB to work for and also the greatest influence in my development as a coach and a leader. His tenure as head coach began the same year as my employment with the Galaxy. He led UCLA to National Championships before coming to MLS and probably had more influence on developing American soccer players than any other coach in the country. He basically took a good athletic program and turned it into a dynasty, but not without bumps. If you were to talk to any of his UCLA players, they will probably all tell you the same thing - they would take a bullet for the guy, but there is a chance that they fired the gun themselves. As a man, he is one of the most empathic and intelligent people I have ever worked for; as a coach and boss, an overbearing pain in the ass. He micromanaged everything from the game schedule to the painting of the field to where everyone parked. It spilled over to the players' lives; what they ate, when they trained, what they did in the offseason, etc etc etc. It has its advantages and disadvantages.

I bring all this up because I didn't know much about coaching when I met Sigi. And through 4 long years of working for him, travelling with him, enduring the downs of reaching the championship twice only to lose it to the ups of finally winning the thing in 2002, my last year with the team, I learned some things. I learned a bit of what I don't want to be as a coach but a lot about what I do.

I do want to take an active interest in my client's lives.
I do need to have boundaries therein.
I do want to create a sense of team, even family amongst our members.
I do not want to be heavy-handed or force something that isn't there.
I do want to push people hard, as hard as they can go.
I do not want to try to apply a training plan that applies to everyone, since every one of us is different.
I do not want to lead with a stick, but a carrot. Fear of disappointing your coach will only carry someone so far, especially an adult.
I do want to win, but not at any cost.

TNS has had a hell of a first year. Several podium finishes, 2 overall victories, multiple PR's, a profitable year in our first year of operation, a buzz and a presence in the community and more than anything - a lot of good, like-minded people working together towards common goals.

But 2010 will only be better. There is a fine line between striving for more and being happy with what you have; my task as a coach and a person is to find that, to help define it for others (when they ask) and to remind them that goals cannot be floating. Just because you achieve a goal does not mean it is proper to immediately set a new one, or worse set a new one before you achieve it just because it becomes obvious you are on pace to smash it. We do this for fun and that is a great goal in itself.

Many mountains to climb

2009-09-26T07:55:00.001-07:00

So it's been a few weeks since I posted - an eventful few weeks. Malibu came and went, I sold my road bike and the 2009 season is grinding to a halt. Left on the docket are 2 TNS-focused races - the Soma 70.3 and Ironman Arizona, both either scheduled by, for or with Max. Soma will be IMAZ race prep for Max; we will head out on Friday and spend Saturday previewing the bike course. There is a huge psychological benefit to knowing exactly what a course is like. We will head out at the same time that we will be out there on race day so he can feel the weather, the wind, the ups and downs of the course. Sunday's race takes place on the same run course as IMAZ so being out there on that lake front boardwalk, feeling the heat bounce back at him, engaged in the monotyny that is that boring run course, all of it will help him on race day.

Me? I am living vicariously through him right now. I ran 7 of the miles he ran in Manhattan Beach last week and then got the text when he was done. I am excited for him, but would be lying to say that there isn't a part of me that wouldn't rather be out there with him.

But there is a much bigger part of me that is glad for the time off. It was on the Malibu bike that I realized for sure, 100%, no questions, that I need a break. The only word to adequately describe what I felt out there at Malibu is impotent. I just had no power, no next gear, no anything really. I started at the same time as a few friends and finished 10-15 minutes behind them. These are the people I train with, that are not supposed to beat me like that.

But I am learning something here. I can do anything I want, I just can't do everything I want. Or at least I can't do everything I want well. I can train with the best of them, I can sell plastics like Alec Baldwin sells real estate - "brass balls", I can be the best triathlon coach ever, I can settle down, get married, have a kid and be the best dad ever, I can write, I can lift weights, I can tell jokes, I can add numbers in my head, I can be a good uncle, good son, good brother, I can go to USC football games and try to hang on to the glory of my youth, I can get a new car, one without a dent in it, I can scale the mountains of Malibu Creek state park, I can be a Republican - or a Democrat, haven't decided yet, I can go to Dodgers games and eat too much, I can make mistakes, I can fix mistakes, I can do anything. But I can't do it all well.

I am entering into a new phase here. And for the first time in my whole life, I don't know what that means. But where as I have always been to get by on a few jokes and charm and some good ideas and fancy words, it isn't working any more. I haven't figured out how to balance everything. Because I have responsibilities that extend WAY beyond getting out and going for a run or designing a training plan or 2, beyond a Saturday night date or a couple phone calls to a couple friends. No, life has gotten really real, really really fast. And that's fine after a few days to soak it up, digest it and compartmentalize things into neat little boxes. But I haven't had those few days until now. This is probably how I havebn't written for so long. But now I am ready. Moving forward, I will focus on my relationships, TNS (looking forward to a 6 hour "mini-retreat" tomorrow to get focused with Max, Sofia & John), my new relationship with Core Performance (6 months of intense core training) & running (100k in February), and mainly trying to make as much money as I can selling as much as I can.

A good friend said to me a few weeks ago that money cannot be the only measure of success, or worth we use. And of course it cannot. But that is an overly simplistic sentence that doesn't account for a lot of things. It definitely doesn't account for the 4 months I took off in 2008 to train as much as I could and to learn as much as I could about coaching triathletes. This was one of the most rewarding times of my life, but as much as it left me internally wealthy, it left me externally broke. So, as has been a prevailing theme in my life, I dig a hole and come back better for it.

So that's my story - more to come.

Race Week: Malibu

2009-09-07T15:59:00.000-07:00

So it's Malibu race week; 5 days to the Olympic, 6 days to the Sprint. Somehow I didn't realize this until I was on my way to run this morning. Oh yeah, there is a race Saturday. It isn't that I don't care, it's just that I don't really care. OK that's not accurate entirely. I am excited about the race, I just don't care that much about race - ING. See, it's like this. As the coach of the Children's Hospital team, I have helped guide 200+ athletes to the start line of this race. I have helped a few more in my private coaching life. That's cool. That's gratifying. But as an individual athlete, it's just a race. That's all. I have been asked a few times before - what's your favorite race? The answer that immediately comes to mind is Ironman Arizona. As a race "experience", that was my favorite race. I have been out there to spectate, been out there to race and this November I will be back there as a volunteer. It is a great race experience and will always hold a place somewhere in me. But my favorite race, year in and year out, and the only race that I will have raced 4 times is the Malibu Triathlon. It's just a cool race. Why? Here are a few reasons.

1. It's as close to my backyard as a race can get. I realized yesterday on my bike ride that I have ridden that exact course at least 100 times. It's to the point where I know each every rise and drop, I know the street markers and what each thing means out there.

2. The celebrities. Even when you grow up in LA it's still cool to see Andy from the Office or other people that you have seen on tv out there racing with you.

3. Being a part of it. Coaching the CHLA team and wearing their colors, having several personal clients out there, all of it lends to familiarity and a supportive atmosphere.

4. Not having to race Sunday. Although the Olympic distance race on Saturday is longer and more challenging, there will be far more people racing Sunday. Maybe I should say BECAUSE the Olympic distance race on Saturday is longer and more challenging, there will be far more people racing Sunday. And I get to sit and watch. So that's cool.

So all in all, it's cool to be racing Saturday, but that's about all I can say on the matter.

bam

Always A Runner, or Where's my 11?

2009-09-01T20:42:00.000-07:00

Run Free.
Run Fast.
Run Far.
Run.

They say it takes 3 weeks of doing something - anything, really - for it to become habit. Further, it often takes a habit to replace a habit.

Or, more simply put, the road giveth and the road taketh away.

It is now 2 weeks post-Ultra. The soreness is gone, but what is left is a gimpy back, a few black toes, some new inspiration and little desire to jump back into triathlon.

Sure, I jumped back on the bike and dove into the water nearly immediately (swam a mile and ran 6 the day after the race), but the passion isn't necessarily where it was.

I really can't shake the good feelings I got from that race. I spent the entire time thinking - this is easy, this is so easy. And I landed in the top 25. I say that not so much from a competitive or ego standpoint so much as to illustrate how natural and comfortable it feels. It took me so many years to get 'good' at triathlon and every race is such an expenditure of mental energy.

All that said, next up is Malibu Triathlon on September 12. I haven't raced Olympic distance in 3 years, so it will be interesting. I have raced Sprint and I have raced long course, but Olympic is that special hybrid that reminds me of half marathon in the running world. Short enough to race yet still long enough to pace. .9 mile swim is a long one. That is practically a half Ironman swim. It will take it out of you. The bike - 24.8 miles - is a tricky beast. It isn't the distance, that is fairly managable for anyone. It is the lure of hammering. "Oh, it's only 25 miles I can go all out". Well, sure you can. But it will kick your ass and PS you still have that 6.2 mile run afterwards.

And the thing is when you get faster and the podium is in your wheelhouse consistently, the error margins diminish greatly. The swim is what the swim is, don't plan on losing more than 5 minutes, but that is a huge margin when the total race time is 120-135 minutes. The bike is fool's gold because it makes you want to do it in an hour. My fastest 40k is 1:00:39 which means a perfect day needs to transpire. And the run? Well sub-40 would be nice. But after a 40k? I just don't know.

So to sum up, running good, triathlon ok.

And now onto my 11. I have always had an "11". No, this doesn't mean my small tooth cog for hammering the flats (total roadie shop talk jargon). No, my 11 is an emotional 11 on a scale of 1-10. The other day it occurred to me that the 11 seems to have dropped off somewhere. I attribute much of that to long, slow ultrarunning. The road giveth and the road taketh away. Too much high intensity, speed training not only physiologically takes it toll in the form of chronic fatigue, toxin secretion, elevated heart rate and sleep issues, but it takes it toll mentally as well. Once you started spinning the legs at that high pace and jacking the heart rate up over 90% consistently, you are bound to live your life that way. It's only natural.

So in slowing down my training I find my life following suit. I find everything takes a paler shade, slower pace and a more calm outlook. It's pretty cool. Had a TNS dinner last night and one friend was talking about Malibu and his training leading up to it versus leading up to Strawberry Fields back in July. He reflected on his training and found that he was doing 2 or 3 threshold workouts a week for 20 minutes or more. Race pace for an hour or more. That is crazy-making. We can't sustain that. Well, we can't sustain that unless we are living in the Olympic Training Center sheltered from the normal up and down stresses and demands of real life. It is just impossible. You can only run an engine so hot for so long. Fact of life.

Point is, slow down. That way when you do speed up it will mean more. And maybe, maybe just maybe you will find your 11 falls away.

Slow twitch Saturday

2009-08-24T18:16:00.000-07:00

"Once you embrace the pain, you are never alone". - Unknown

I don't really know what that means. I also don't think I agree with it, even if I did understand it. That said, this is one of several sentences that went through my mind repeatedly during my 31 mile race Saturday. 31 mile running race, that is.

Here are the other thoughts that went through my mind:

1. Ultrarunners are cooler than triathletes.

2. Why did I pick a course with 2000 feet of climbing for my first 50k?

3. The swim is the portion of a triathlon where you are most likely to drown.

4. When does this hill end?

5. Why is that girl wearing her underpants - on the outside?

6. Is that guy peeing WHILE he is running?

7. When does this hill end?

8. There are 6,080 meters in this hill. When does it end?

9. Would I be faster or slower if I lost 10 pounds?

10. Could I win an ultramarathon?

11. How do you run with a backpack full of water on?

12. How come nobody passes anybody in these races?

13. Should I have shaved my legs for this?

14. Is that a snake? (Yes, it was)

15. If I wait for the guy behind me to come around the bend so I can call out "SNAKE!", will he pass me?

16. How come I don't run downhill fast?

17. When does this hill end?

18. Why is nature so dirty?

19. If I run a race and don't wear spandex, did I really run?

20. When does this f'ing hill end?

21. What should I do for a workout tomorrow?

22. How many triathletes does it take to change a lightbulb? 2. One to change it and another to blog about it.

23. (At the finish of loop one) I have to do this again?

24. When did I reach the point where I would do something as outlandish as a 31 mile race uphill and not tell my family about it because it has just become commonplace?

25. Is this thing over yet?

26. Do I really have another 6,080 meters of uphill to go?

27. Can Lance Armstrong run a 2:45 marathon in an Ironman?

28. Can I run faster than Lance Armstrong?

29. Can you really win a race running 7 minute miles?

30. Can you really win a race where you eat a turkey sandwich and chips halfway through it?

31. Is it good for the heart to beat over 200 times per minute?

32. How is it that running 31 uphill miles is actually making my lower back feel better?

33. Where is the finish line?

This last question was the last question I asked. Mainly because I couldn't find it. It was in a parking lot and I stopped 100 meters before the two parking cones that signified the race's finish. And there they were. And I sprinted to them. And just like that, my 50k was done.

So here's the thing about ultrarunning. Ultrarunning is a big, not so subtle F U to triathlon. It is Tom Hanks to Peter Scolari on Bosom Buddies, it is George Clinton to Bill Clinton. The best word to describe ultrarunning is Whatever. This is how my first Ultramarathon experience shook down.

I woke up at 4, thankful that my lower back had loosened and I could walk. I ate, grabbed coffee and showed up at the race site when the parking lot opened at 5:15. I was the 4th person there. The other 3 worked there. I walked up to registration, party of one, got my stuff, then went back to my car and closed my eyes. At 6:15 I stretched, ran around and lined up. There was a white line on the ground. They pointed to it. There was maybe 100 people. They said start. We ran. Uphill. Uphill. Uphill. DOWNHILL. Sofia handed me food at the top of the mountain. We had a little chat, a pleasant visit like High Tea in Lower Uncton. I am tellng you, this is anti-triathlon. I ran. Passed some overzealous folks. Hit Loop 1 in 2:32, turned around to do it again. Cruised up, another visit with Sofia, replete with a turkey sandwich and chips. Little faster this time, than back down. Finished in 5:07.

Did I like it? Yes and no. I hate nature. There was a snake and dirt and presumably bugs. I also hated the hills. But...I liked more than I disliked. The people are very cool. No ego, no drama. Everyone talks and not even about the race. About movies or whatever. The guys I ran with in a training run 3 weeks ago ran with me again. They remembered me and I remembered them. None of the twitchy triathlete posturing about my 22.3 versus your 1:27 100 meters or whatever. More like golfers or something. That was cool. LOVE the distance. Over a long enough timeline I get better. Based on last year's results I came in the top 20. That is silly since I started out in the back. That means people go out way too fast, die off but I get faster. I like that. So yes, I like it. And yes, I am doing another one.

100k in February. On asphalt. As in 10 10k's. One aid station. That's right. One aid station. You literally run back and forth for 7, 8 hours. So this is my next one. What can I say? I am hooked. I am hooked on a pair of shoes and no shirt (naturally) and my John Deere hat (just ordered 4 more in various colors) and going. Just going. I retract earlier statements about giving up triathlon, it isn't so black and white as I originally purported, still want to qualify for Kona at IMAZ next year, but in the meantime I run. A lot. 100 mile+ weeks.

So yeah I am ultra-excited. Wah, wah.

bam

The road to hell is actually 2 LOOPS of 15.5 miles each

2009-08-09T07:37:00.001-07:00

Running 31 miles sucks. That's what you think. YOU sit there and think that running 31 miles sucks. Well, it doesn't friend and I am going to tell you why.

I am running this race in 2 weeks. Why? Well, if you have to ask you haven't been reading this blog. Fact is, long about June I got very burned out on triathlon and in a frenzied state after reading Born To Run, I signed up for my first ultramarathon. The closest race - geographically and schedule-wise - was this race. 31 miles seemed quite manageable, and still does, but what I never factored in was just how tough that course is. Bulldog is a 15 mile fire road/rock road/single track in Malibu Creek State Park which takes you past the M*A*S*H film site and could theoretically take you to the Pacific Ocean, if you let it. But it isn't the distance or terrain that makes it rough, it is the elevation gain & drop. If you have ever driven Malibu Canyon to the beach, those mountain just after Mulholland are the mountains that Bulldog climbs up and over. 2 miles of flat, 4.5 miles straight up, 1 mile along the ridge line and then WHAM straight down. To a man every person whom I have talked to about that trail says the same thing - the uphill sucks but the downhill kills you. And they are right. Uphill is uphill. It is monotonous, it is painful, very few people can actually run it straight through due to the fact that your legs feel encased in cinder blocks but once you are up you are up. The downhill, however, is a tricky mistress. Downhill running just shreds your quads, threatens your knees and makes you hyper-vigilant and nervous most of the time. And on Bulldog it is 4 miles straight down. STRAIGHT down. It is crazy.

So yesterday was my big training day, the biggest run training day I have ever put together - 4.5 hours of fun. Met up with 3 other runners at 6 and we did a 15 mile loop. Felt good at first, one of the dudes was Irish so I learned way more about the recent history of Ireland and the collective dislike of Margaret Thatcher than one normally would at 6am while running in dark woods, but it got us to the uphill quicker than normal. And then the uphill. And like that we split up. David is a damn mountain goat and just flew up the hill, not walking until the very end. I was on his hills and probably would have kept running until I looked at my heart rate monitor. 189. wow. 194. Yep, 194. SO I walked and saw a drop to a balmy 170. And at 170 it pretty much stayed the whole way. I am telling you, it is steep. What will be interesting, though, is how to mitigate fatigue and such on race day when I am doing 2 loops. One way will be to pay no attention to what anyone else is doing. I found myself pushing faster than normal with David as a rabbit. Once he pulled away and I couldn't see him, I settled into a reasonable pace. On race day I am just going to settle into an easy pace and focus on finishing.

Anyhow, the downhill. The aforementioned Irishman Mickey (yep) is a downhill monster. As he flew down the hill at reckless speed I asked how he did it and he told me that he had actually been coached to run downhill. Wow, there is a coach for everything. But he had 5 minutes on me within the 4 mile downhill. David and I just pulled back and took it easy, not wanting to risk injury or whatever.

Once we got to the bottom we opted to run Malibu Canyon Rd. back to the start and the race began. I had given myself an off day from normal training so I allowed myself to open up for 2 miles, opening for the first time in weeks. David and I quietly pushed each other - 7:00, 6:45. 6:30, neither of us acknowledging the race that unfolded but both knowing it and by the last 1/2 mile we were flat out at sub-6 pace and finished back at the car heaving for breath. It was pretty fun, actually, since I haven't been able to open up in a while.

But it wasn't over for me, still another 90 minutes. I ran around for a bit, waiting for Lesley who showed for an hour (ok, 1:15) run through the park and then we ran over to the set of the Biggest Loser (she asked if I was dropping her off).

All in all, it was a little over 4:30 of running, probably 25 miles or so covered and I felt great until last night. I got the worst stomach ache that lasted all night and it took me that long to figure out how dehydrated I was and that I would just need to pound as much water as it took.

And now I taper down a bit before the race, which means 13 mile runs only. What a weird perspective endurance athletes adopt towards distance.

bam

A Marriage of convenience, a weekend of juxtapositions, chicanery and outright insanity and the longest blogpost title ever

2009-08-03T11:40:00.000-07:00

It all began with a singular thought and pushback from a friend who probably knows me too well to let my thoughts fester. I am giving up triathlon for good, I am just burned out. All this training is a grind and the racing yields no reward. And on and on it went. This was June. It just seems like every single minute I wasn't sleeping I was talking about, training for, racing, thinking about or somehow consuming myself with - you guessed it - triathlon. No conversation went more than 5 minutes without splits, workouts, goals or what so and so just bought that's better than my so and so. One person in particular was driving me nuts with the oneupmanship. 50 miles? Oh, I guess that's good for YOU. Ugh. And I didn't sleep much, so we are talking 20 hours a day, 140 per week about triathlon. Taken further, if I didn't go more than 5 minutes without talking about it, at a minimum I was talking about 12 times per hour, 240 times per day, 1,680 times per week and this doesn't account for the occasional dream about triathlon in which I couldn't find my bike - or my wallet. I swear this is all true. This paragraph is the tiniest peek into the weird window of my soul.

So I signed up for an ultramarathon and put the bike on blocks. I ran everyday and fell in love with it again. But one night at dinner with Max and Sofia, he says to me he says do you think maybe you are afraid of succeeding - or failing, but really just finding out what your actual potential is? What an idiot, what does he know.

Oh, but he was spot on. Jerk. He was right. I had achieved enough to quit but not enough to actually feel good about that quitting. Could I break 4:30 in a 70.3? Could I qualify for Kona? I came pretty damn close last November.

But something had to change. I was burned out, feeling pretty empty not only physically but also sort of as a person as it relates to this triathlon thing. I LOVED (the CAPS mean A LOT) coaching and watching others succeed but I was burned out for myself. At the time Joanna was crushing her training which was awesome and Charrissa and I had a great talk to get her off her own triathlon cliff, which felt great. But I couldn't find it for myself. It took Max's pushback to get me there. I guess sometimes that's what friends are for. Not so much to agree with you all the time and co-sign your idiocy but to hold up a mirror. Training Max for Ironman Arizona has been a blast and to his credit he has yet to bitch about anything or interject with ego. So why am I?

So we came up with a reality - I am a great coach who is the worst coach of myself. So I hired a coach. And I chose a coach based on my weaknesses, not my strengths. My strengths are strength, perseverance and a little intellect. My weaknesses are my strength, perseverance and a little intellect. I train HARD (again, with the CAPS), but I do not necessarily train smart. I train based on how fast can I go and how hard can I suffer. And I can suffer pretty well. So while I got faster, I also got injured, I also got burned out and I also got sick of this.

And then came the heart rate monitor. That little necessary evil has become a choke chain on my snarling pig dog. The numbers are silly. 153 as my Max Aerobic, I practically wake up at that number. My first run was a walk. My first ride was a series of moments of sitting up and coasting. Ugh. But...it has gotten better. The numbers are coming down. I have found that narrow slot of good form and controlled breathing when I run that I did not have the need to find before. I didn't need to worry about heart rate because I wasn't worried about heart rate but now I am so I am conscious of how a side step or lifting my arm up to look at my watch too often or a hill or this or that or the other can drive heart rate up 5 bpm just like that.

So runs that had been walks have become runs again. I am still slower than I was when staying under 153, but I am down under 7:30's in less than a month. This is less a physiological change than finding good form and learning tricks, but it is a start and I will take it.

Because I AM going to Clearwater in November and I AM going to do well and I AM going to follow up this coaching program and I AM going to discover what I can do when I give it my all. And I have a lot to give - last week alone my program had me training in the 15 hour range, bumping to 20 by next week. Two days last week were triples which had me up at 3:30 in order to get my own workouts before coaching others.

Which leads me to my weekend of contradictions, a wonderful irony of partying and training, and at points partying so hard that it rolled right into training the next morning, most notably a 3 hour run on Saturday from 6-9 followed by a tough 90 minute swim. All on 2 hours sleep. And same thing Sunday morning when I joined Max for his back 56. But one thing the heart rate training does is make it doable. Because when you train at 90% effort as opposed to 100, there is a weird mental shift that happens where you relax and enjoy it more than usual because you know that if you had to, you have more to give. You aren't redlining it all the time, so you aren't making yourself crazy in the head and the legs. And the proof is in the pudding. My times are faster, my heart is slower and my head is happier. And that is all the proof I need.

Downhill running

2009-07-30T19:15:00.000-07:00

I wrote last time about the trouble I experienced during a recent trail run with a 3 mile descent that is both technical and steep. While I can fly uphill, I am actually losing ground on the downhill. I reached out to pro triathlete, adventure racer and movement expert Jessi Stensland (recently featured in this Slowtwitch article) for advice. I got much more than I bargained for! Thanks to Jessi and anyone looking for more info can check out her website or email her at jessi@gojessi.com. She is always excited to talk about this stuff.

The first time I remember flying by people while running downhill in a race was at the 2008 Wildflower Triathlon Festival during that infamous two kilometer downhill to the finish. It wasn’t until a second experience, during the XTERRA Boney Mountain Xduro 21k earlier this year when the same thing happened on multiple steep, long downhills throughout the race, that I started wondering why I was able to go so much faster downhill relative to everyone else on the course and consequently started questioning: what makes a good downhill runner? Immediately, of course, my mind started to wonder about the body’s involvement. What was it that was allowing me this ‘free speed’ and what were other athletes doing that caused them to be unable to take advantage of it, and more often than not find themselves having to fight gravity, instead of using it. Interestingly enough, looking back on my races against other pro triathletes, I remember one athlete in particular, who blew by me one day on a downhill on the LA Triathlon run course. I remember thinking something like “Wow. How is she doing that?” and I’m pretty sure my mind probably stopped at something like: “She’s just better at it,” without giving a second thought as to why. That was before I had gotten involved in the body’s performance. Now I understand that there are specific movement efficiency related reasons to all performance outcomes.

The foundations of efficient downhill running are not unlike running on flat ground. In running, the foot hits the ground with a certain amount of force and the better the body is at scooping that energy back up as the foot leaves the ground and not letting it ‘leak out’, the more efficient, fast and powerful running can be.

In efficient downhill running, gravity is your friend. More often than not however the body is unable to handle the momentum, and in many cases, is forced to put on the brakes to maintain control down the hill. Double whammy! This means a runner will miss out on the advantage of gravity, and will actually have to use some of their energy to fight the force that’s could be helping them downhill!

There are a few factors I believe that come into play during efficient downhill running. It’s not about a DIFFERENT style of running than when on flat ground. Think about it as maintaining your running mechanics and “keeping your legs under you” as long as you can at the highest speed you can handle. To do so you need proper running mechanics, key muscles activated, stability through your joints and strong, elastic muscles.

1. PROPER RUNNING MECHANICS. As in all running, the foundation of running efficiently downhill relies upon maintain tall posture and a strong circular motion of the legs underneath the body which means, in its simplest terms, lifting the knees out in front, footstriking directly beneath the body and then pulling the heel back around to start again. In general, I see many people running lower-leg dominant instead of from their hips, with minimal knee raise. This alone would greatly reduce the ability to keep up with momentum while running downhill and certainly make it necessary to ‘put on the brakes’ very early on.

2. ABS AND GLUTES ACTIVATING. In any type of movement, including running, the abdominals and the glutes are so important to both force production and overall control of the body. Activating and utilizing them properly throughout running mechanics gives the body much greater control over the legs. It also minimizes the impact on the quadriceps and knees that so often take most of the beating on downhill running. Having that control is pivotal in taking advantage of gravity and keeping control over the momentum, especially while having to avoid obstacles if on the trail. Be sure to integrate core strength and stability work along with glute activation exercises in your training.

3. JOINT STABILITY. Your ability to maintain stability through your spine, hips, knees and ankles during each step will be key to controlling you body’s direction and forward speed as you hit the ground. Having strong muscles surrounding the joints is key to creating great stability. Combining single and double leg strength and balance exercises along with great posture is important.

4. ELASTICITY. Elasticity is one of the most overlooked elements of endurance performance and I would consider it like icing on the cake for downhill running. “Think of your body as a pogo stick. The metal framework is analogous to your pillar and the springs are like your muscles. We want our bodies to be able to store and release energy powerfully, just like that pogo stick. It is like your body’s shocks and springs.” writes Mark Verstegen in the book Core Performance. You can also think of elasticity as how fast your body is capable of changing the direction of force. In tennis it might be a lateral move to get back across the court. In running it would be how quickly you can get your foot off the ground once it hits, ideally while scooping up all the force you hit with and bringing it all with you into your next stride. It is pivotal to being able to “keep your legs under you” as mentioned earlier. You can train the body to be elastic with explosive exercises, like jumps and bounds, and specific running drills. Opt for fewer reps and make perfect form a priority.

Here’s to free speed! Enjoy.

The road to hell is 31 miles long, part 2

2009-07-27T09:02:00.000-07:00

4 weeks out from the Bulldog Ultra, a 15.5 mile course x 2 (that's 31 miles). Saturday a group set out for a one loop training run and I joined them.

Bulldog is a fairly infamous trail in Malibu Creek State Park, near where I grew up. I had never seen it before Saturday. It goes something like this - 1 mile flat fire road, 1 mile single track, 1 mile gentle climb, 3 miles of hellish climb on rocky trail, 2 miles gentle climb, 6 miles straight downhill, 1.5 miles flat. For the 31 mile run, that means do it twice.

So I showed up and there was a pretty sizeable group, some people I knew, most I didn't. I locked in with a guy named Mickey who I had trained with before, a 40-something Irish badass who took one look at the tiny half liter water bottle I had in hand and was kind enough to gift me a couple of water bottles and gels. I had much to learn.

We start off chatting for the first 2 miles, very easy. I wore my HR monitor and held it around 130 so I was feeling great. At mile 2 we ran with a guy named Bill who has placed at a few ultras and I pestered him with questions. Turns out his coach is an Ironman coach and we found we had a lot in common. He gave me some good advice, especially when the road turned straight uphill and I kept lunging off the front. Slow down. Walk. And he was dead right - my heart rate was hitting 190. Yes, that's right - 190. Ridiculous, any wonder I was feeling overtrained and not recovering. Can't wait to slow down and get this right. So the heart rate monitor was my first humbling of the day.

The second humbling. The second humbling came with the slope of the mountains. I flew by everyone headed UPhill but got dusted on the DOWNhill. It was amazing. It wasn't the lungs, it was the legs. The downhill just brutalized my legs plus I was freaked out about falling down. It was the first time in a long time that my balance and vision issues came into play; I just didn't know where to put my next foot. And they all ran away. It was weird. Really weird because any time the road levelled out, I would close the 100 meters and be back with them. Showed me what I need to work on.

So once my legs heal up (ps downhills KILL your legs), I am going to head back there and do a hill repeat workout. I am going to pick a good spot with a steep hill approx. 400 meters and take it at moderate speed going up and high speed going down. Probably do this 20 times, until I feel comfortable.

And the beat goes on...

The road to hell is 31 miles long

2009-07-23T11:44:00.000-07:00

Vineman is over. It went well, no worse for wear, time to move on. Admittedly, spending so much time with my clients and watching them have so much damn fun reinvigorated my love for the sport, but that is another blog post for another time. My focus for the next 4 weeks is running. Specifically running very far. Specifically running my first ultramarathon.

Fresh off my 1:33 run at Vineman, it is no rest for the weary. Swam the swim course again Monday morning just to loosen up, took Tuesday off and then back on the streets yesterday with an 8 mile recovery run, slow as molasses. Max's borrowed Garmin told me I ran 8:30's but they may as well have been 5:00's. I went with it, stayed slow and steady and felt good. Core Performance last night - and for a brief hat tip - Core Performance gets credit not as much for my great race this weekend, but for the fact that I have put in 60-100 mile run weeks with no injury. None. I haven't felt this good in years and I owe much of that to the lateral strength and progressive training they have me on. They really put me through my paces leading up to the race and I am locked in 2x/week leading up to the Ultra. For those worried about bulking up, I say hogwash. For those worried about slowing down, wasting precious training time, paying too much money or any other excuse on the list, sorry, that's rubbish. It isn't that pricy when you really break it down and all I say is - go check it out with your own two eyes. You have not seen anything like it, I assure you. The staff is uber educated and athletes in their own rights and the place is so technologically advanced you won't quite know where to begin. Hat tip over now.

This morning was a long, slow run. As I convert completely to heart rate training for the next 4 months I am finding myself slowing down. Yes, it is tough on the ego, no question. Today was a 12 miler that would ordinarily take 1:20 and it took me 1:45. Wah wah, it's worth it. We do tend to run our long runs too fast and our short runs too slow. And the heart rate doesn't lie; the truth is in the numbers. But man is it tough to do. Today, I ran miles 4-8 barefoot up and down the grass median on San Vicente. I like doing this for several reasons. One, it forces me to work on my form. Each step suddenly becomes important and just a little dangerous. If I lose focus there is good chance of stepping on a tree root or metal grate, or just twisting the ankle. It also strengthens the muscles in my feet and ankles. I have begun to wonder if the very shoes designed to help us run faster and not get injured can actually make us weakened and dependent on them. Finally, it is just a nice break in the middle of a long run. By putting 4 slower miles in the middle of a 12 miler, it breaks up the monotony and gets me out of my head. Except this morning as I ran up SV, another coach rode up on his bike and chatted me up. Then for the first time I realized just how silly I must look. A grown ass man in public running around with no shoes. Am I THAT guy? Oh brother. But I carried on. The other fun thing about barefoot running is just how fast you run once the shoes are back on. It's like weights off your feet. I'll admit, I burned rubber for the last 4 miles, headed home in just under 25:00 for the 4. The thing is it feels effortless because of the tremendous pain in the ass that is barefoot running.

So tomorrow is swimming, Saturday on the bike and Sunday is my first of two 23 milers. It is a welcome break to become a runner again who uses triathlon as cross training. It is clear to me that once you have a solid base on the swim and bike established, the net loss is minimal if you focus on one of the three. In fact, even though my swimming was next to none and my biking was maybe 100-150 miles per week leading up to Vineman, my running volume was so high and intensity pegged just right (combo of long, slow runs & speed work) that I actually saw a net gain. All 3 times improved over my Oceanside time. So I will lose nothing for the next month of run training and then will turn back to triathlon training immediately after the Ultra to get ready for Clearwater.

So why Ultra? Because when I think about that ridiculous 31 mile run, I have 0 time goals or expectation. Because the course is dirt and trees, not white lines on pavement. Because 4 hours or 6 doesn't matter. Because I have never done it and don't know precisely what is around each turn like I do with triathlon. Because while there is nothing I think I can't do, the prospect of 31, then 50 then 62 then 100 then 135 miles running does make me cock my head to the side a little more than usual and say "really?". And because I can. It's just there and I want to try something different. I love to run. I love that it is just me and a pair of shoes. No gadgets or any of that, just me and the air. I love how my footsteps fall when they are falling right and I love how well it allows me to get to know myself. I know when I am strong or weak, when a run might be good or bad. Well, that isn't true - every run can be good, it is just that some are better than others. In fact none of that is true because that is the other thing about really learning to love running; you learn how to turn even the worst runs into great experiences. Maybe you slow down, maybe you speed up, maybe you try a different route or climb hills or run in the sand, whatever. The point is, you never stop running.

bam

3 happy clients, 2 flats & sub-5

2009-07-19T19:13:00.000-07:00

This is a race report; consider yourself warned.

Pre Race - Up at 5 after a surprisingly wonderful night's sleep and the house was rumbling. 5 sketchy triathletes; one bathroom and kitchen. You do the math. Oatmeal with Barney Butter and chocolate chips, magically delicious. Pedialyte and Lance Armstrong You Tube clips. I felt beyond relaxed and wasn't alone; there was a cool vibe in the cabin and everybody was pretty mellow.

Joanna and I rode down to the start at 6 and set up. I met up with Jim and Cortney, gave Jim some home spun wisdom (Win, or I'll die), gave Lesley and Joanna their last inspirational words and went off to get ready. Vineman does not present a great T1; a run up a rocky beach to a gravel parking lot, then mount and immediately climb a steep 50 meter hill that makes half the riders crash. It's tough.

Finally an hour later my wave was up and I got into the water with 100 of my closest friends in the smallest age group ever 35-36.

The Swim - The horn sounds and off we go. The swim was nice but a bit violent. Because the river is narrow, there is nowhere for the pack to go, even as it thins. The good news is that I swam with the pack and stayed on feet the whole time; the bad news is that I got pummeled for much of it. At the turn around my hand started hitting something very hard and very sharp. And it didn't stop. WTF? It was when I looked up to sight and saw people walking that I realized that the water depth was now around 3'. So I stood up and rounded the buoy on foot. You may read this and think that this is cheating; I say try hitting your hands on sharp rocks repeatedly. You may read this and think how much faster it would be to walk than swim. I say try it, it's not. In fact it is pretty comical to slog through waist deep water while the guy next to you is swimming. After 50 meters the depth returned and I swam it out.

Swim - 36:XX

T1 was a nightmare on the feet and the head. By now the first 10 rows had already been dismantled and those bags loaded up and were headed into town. That is the other weird thing about this race; you pack your T1 bag - literally - and they bring it to the finish line. So here you are in this hot, dusty warzone, fending for space and precious seconds and worried if your new goggles will make it to town. Got out of there in time to drink a cappucino but did walk the big hill when my calf seized up.

T1 - 4:xx

The Bike - Maybe my favorite bike race ever, definitely a close second to IMAZ. This is a tough, tough course because it rolls. 1 or 2 "hills" but mainly up and down, up and down. At mile 5 they make us do this ridiculous right turn onto a tiny splinter road and then up and down these side roads. I lost my water bottle and my bike computer on a bump which sucked. I hammered and hammered and figured I was holding 18 or so, so at 90 minutes when I hit the aid station I was shocked to find out it was mile 30. I was holding 20 and this bit of news actually set me off. I unloaded the rest of the way and probably averaged 22-23. Bit of bad news at mile 40 where there was emergency personnel and a tree held up by a steel cable. Come to find out a tree broke, fell on a rider and 8 riders behind him crashed into it. Scary. At mile 43 I caught Lesley in her stunning TNS jersey and we chatted for a bit. She looked strong. Mile 45 is Chalk Hill, the hill every one talks about and I flew up it. Easy. Hammered to mile 51 when I could smell the bacon and the outside chance of my first sub-5 70.3 since Clearwater and then the magic happened. I hit a bump in the road and heard "clank, ding, clank". Lost my CO2 and my spare, they just fell off. Oh well, only 5 miles to go, what could go wrong. Then I heard "Phhhssssssssssss". That must be the CO2 opened up I thought. Then I heard "Dadunk, dadunk, dadunk". Flat tire. Then I heard "dadunk, dadunk, dadunk". Two flat tires. Awesome. Funny thing was, I didn't pause. With 5 miles to go, 1 spare tire and 2 flats, I just bore down. I knew I couldn't not finish. I was on pace to break 2:30 on that bike course which is about the same challenge as PCH and I had to go for broke. I downshifted and hammered and tore my rims up and probably averaged 15 on busted rims and lost a ton of time, but at the same time I was pretty happy with it all. Hit Windsor High School with its 5 speed bumps which were hell on my undercarriage and just grabbed the bike and ran it in the rest of the way. Grabbed my stuff - only bike in the rack and took off.

Bike - 2:38

The Run - People were all aflutter about how hard the bike course was, but it wasn't the hard part of the race. The run was. It rolls and climbs and it was hot. Temperature hit 102 by the time Lesley finished and adding 10 degrees because of the hot blacktop seems about right. You run out to a winery in the middle of nowhere and when you do, there is no shade. It is hot. But I ran and clipped people off easily. My first miles were in the 7:30 range but fairly quickly settled into 7 and then sun 7. Passed Joanna at mile 4 which is MUCH later than I thought I would, so I knew then she would break 6 hours in her first race which is a major accomplishment. Kept speeding up, hit the big hill and mile 5 and walked. Yep, walked. More I read about ultramarathon, the more I realize running is much about being smart. If you can't see the top of the hill, walk. Because you will make that time up later with all the energy you save, and I have proof of that. On the hill a dude in my age group who had passed me on the bike passed me on the hill. I said something to him like "good job" or "enjoy it for now bitch", I forget which one, but then we ran out, turned around and ran together for a bit. The same guy who had passed me on the hill couldn't keep up on the flats. And he was running 6:55's. I left him, headed for home and about mile 11 I knew 2 things. One, I knew I would probably break 5 hours and two, I knew I was losing it. It was hot and every speed burst I tried, every little brain firing to my legs telling them to go just a bit faster was met with an immediate spike in heart rate. I knew that the only thing that would prevent me from breaking 5 hours on busted rims was me. And I wanted to go faster - bad. I passed Dana at this point and she said looking good and I said looking good and I wonder if either of us meant it? We were both probably delirious at this point. I was really looking forward to answering the inevitable question of how fast did you go with "4:WHATEVER" but also wondered if I could break 4:55 or even touch the 4:50 I had done in Clearwater. So I pushed. And I suffered. So finally I let go of all that, just ran to mile 12, turned the corner for the high school, got passed (damnit!), tried to let that go, then finally when I could see the end I turned it on and went for broke. I didn't have much left but I left it all out there. I saw the clock and did the quick math and realized if I could do about a 15 second 100 meter, I could break 4:55, which I did. When I crossed the line I was seeing wavy lines and saw my foot was covered in blood, but I did it. But it gets better...

Run - 1:33

Overall: 4:54:55

Post Race - Went to the food tent to find Cortney and Jim and found out Jim won first overall amateur with a 4:11 - ridiculous! And, Cortney got a Clearwater spot after getting held up for 10 minutes at that fallen tree. It just kept getting better as Joanna crossed next, then we waited for Lesley and Dana who both crossed with what could pass for a smile and we all found some shade.

Last night we made turkey burgers and S'mores at the house then I went back into Windsor for post-race drinks and dinner with Jim, Cortney and Lesley. It had that same awesome vibe from IMAZ, everyone was happy and excited and maybe it was the drinks or my awesome placemat math drawings, but we may just have talked Lesley into another 70.3!

Today is wine tasting beginning at 10:45 with shots and breakfast sandwiches. Because I am 24 years old. But it was that very wine tasting excursion that drove me through much of this hellish race, so I am going to enjoy an actual day off!

Sweet!

Down Tube Wine

2009-07-18T07:46:00.000-07:00

"I dare you to put a wine bottle in your down tube".

This one sentence text from Max last night sums up my first Vineman experience. Mainly because I will do it.

I got up to Guerneville, which by all estimates is the gay capital of Sonoma County (wonder if I can find a good massage place) around 5 yesterday, a very road weary traveller. The drive took about 8 hours all in, counting stops to meet up with Jim, Cortney and Lesley, to move stuff around in our cars, to eat, to get gas, to go to the bathroom (girls apparently can't use the Gatorade bottle restroom) and to sit in heavy Petaluma traffic. It is the best of drives and the worst of drives, because most of the time on the 5 just drones on, endless scrub, cows and farm land. But it is the best of drives once you get up into Oakland. The stretch on the 580 by the Oakland Airport is one of my favorites because you are so much at sea level that it looks like the ocean is going to crash over you. Pretty cool. Lesley and I passed the time on the drive by working, sleeping and chatting and it went by pretty quick. Until Petaluma. Gnarly sight to see a motorcyclist that got hit by a car down on the road and traffic backed up for an hour. We made it through, dropped her off in Santa Rosa with Jim then met my brother up at this cabin to meet up with the San Diego folks I am staying with. From there he and I went to the sushi restaurant where he works and had the Omikaze feast - chef's choice and it did not disappoint. Not my standard pre-race fare, but nothing about this weekend is standard.

Which leads me to Down Tube wine. After I polished off the sake sampler and a couple of Kirin Ichibans - Kirin Ichiban I found out last night is best translated as #1 Giraffe in Japanese - I texted Max to inform him that this was now a boozefest/party race weekend. It has to be - there are too many wineries, too many cool people and BTW the weather is beyond hot and the course is hilly. As I drove in I was struck by how similar the course is to Couer D Alene. No BIG hills or sustained climbing, just a constant barrage of up and down, up and down, so that you never really know if you should sit or stand, hammer or ease up or really where to expend your energy. It is going to be fun - which is the point. It is fun for me to not know what to expect. Many races I have done 2 or 3 times so I know what is coming and end up constantly judging myself against myself at this hill or that checkpoint. This race? Let's just have some fun.

Someone made the point last night that triathlon is basically just doing what we did as little kids. Now that I think about it, he made that point as I displayed my one-piece uniform, my big ol' adult onesie pajamas and drank from my bottle of Pedialyte with the teddy bear on the label. So yeah maybe there is a bit of a Benjamin Button factor in all this, so I am going to go with it and just have some fun.

Oh and PS our cabin is slanted, meaning one whole side of the house just sort of leans. Also, the power goes out haphazardly. It can be disconcerting, to say the least.

More to come....

Head North, young man

2009-07-17T05:49:00.000-07:00

About to hit the road up to Vineman. It has been an interesting week to say the least. Got a massage from the evilest woman in the world Monday night and woke up Tuesday unable to turn my head. Just couldn't move. Met Anthony and Macray for a swim and had nothing because I was struggling just to turn my head to breathe. And thus began the cycle of freaking out. The more I stressed, the more it hurt, the less I could sleep, you get it. By Wednesday the pain had travelled and everything just locked up. Sort of worked through the day and prayed for the sweet sweet embrace of sleep that night, but it never came. So when I woke up yesterday with residual pain but a bit better I was really frustrated. Went for a 3 mile run with a fast #2 mile in there and just had no power. The mile was very fast, but there was no power in the hips and the amount of effort it took to get there was way too high. So I scheduled another massage last night with someone less violent but no less painful. This woman worked with athletes and knew exactly where to dig. Most of the problem was in my upper back and to demonstrate how hard she had to work to undo the knots, she dug her elbow into my back right on top of the shoulder blade then CLIMBED THE WALL behind her to exert more pressure. I was dying, shutting my eyes so hard tears formed and grinding my teeth to the point I thought they would pop. It was awful, but I will say this - I can turn my head again and the pain is now just soreness. The massage was so tough that when I walked out of the place to my car, Jim and Cortney were eating at a restaurant outside and called my name 3 times before it even registered. That is the sign of a really good/really painful massage.

So where did it come from? Equal parts stress, not sleeping, the Monday massage and maybe built up lactic acid from cumulative training. Doesn't really matter at this point, what matters is that I feel better and that in the future I don't go so long between massages. It is really important.

Other bit of interesting news that falls into the 'physician heal thyself' category is my bike - turns out I rode the Oceanside bike course on 2 leaky tires and a 9-speed cassette with 10-speed shifters. This explains a lot and $360 later I may just surprise myself this weekend.

So, hitting the road, probably connect w/ Jim & Courtney on the road somewhere, get up to a cabin in Guerneville with the San Diego peeps, which Mapquest tells me is 447 miles from here, dinner with my brother, a day of 'stuff' tomorrow and then Sunday's race. After that it is wine tasting all day Monday which is the real highlight of the trip.

Pictures will be posted soon...

To Taper or....

2009-07-13T09:00:00.000-07:00

Today is Monday, 6 days out from Vineman. Vineman was not exactly a last minute decision for me by any stretch but about 6 weeks ago I had waffled on whether or not to do it at all, which put me somewhat behind the 8 ball in my training. I signed up for a 50k run on August 22, so my training became more run-focused and less biking or swimming. Once I decided to actually do this race, though, I hit it pretty hard and feel ready. Ran 20 miles Friday night at a steady, slow-ish pace, rode short but hard Saturday followed by a 4 mile transition run at a pace I didn't even know I could do and then ocean swim yesterday morning and 10 mile tempo run yesterday afternoon. So here I am, in taper limbo.

I am running the longest race I have ever run in a month and my only goal is to pace consistently and feel happy at the end of it, yet I am also racing this weekend and want to feel strong throughout. My swimming has been lackluster, only a few times in the past few weeks, but they have been quality and I feel strong. The Vineman swim is supposedly in a 3' deep river so maybe I will just run it. Haha just kidding but not really. My biking is solid, mainly from the running I have been doing, but I have also been hitting the trainer 2 or 3x per week, so I am not too worried. And the run just has me excited. My long runs are fast, even at low heart rates and feel easy, and my short runs are faster than ever, hitting sub 6 on anything less than 5, which is unheard of for me. So I am feeling that if I can manage a decent swim and bike and feel strong starting the run I could better my 1:35 time from Oceanside. Then I get to drink wine all day Monday, which is the real goal of the trip.

But it leads me back to my taper limbo. I am much more interested in the ultramarathon in terms of importance, so I am pretty much training right through this race. I did my 20 miler Friday night and couldn't help but think that very few people are running 20 miles as part of their taper plan. Of course Jim and Cortney did the same yesterday, but that's just more crazy people doing more crazy things.

So here we are. Driving up Friday, have a house with a bunch of people, plans with my brother and an all day wine tasting expedition planned for Monday. Maybe that will be my taper day...

On overtraining

2009-07-06T10:26:00.000-07:00

As a coach I have the opportunity to oversee the training programs for a variety of clients - beginner to advanced, sprint distance to triathlon.

As an athlete I have raced and trained for races of all distances and types.

In the past week I have noticed one common thread - many of the triathletes the ones that I know, that I coach or that I am - do too much. They either do too much of the wrong thing, do too much of the right thing wrong or just do too much of everything, period.

The beginners do it because they get into the sport and are instantly absorbed into the triathlon (sub?)culture of train, talk about training, eat, sleep, train, repeat. And because the people that are feeding them information have generally been in the triathlon business for years, the beginner feels compelled to keep up (read that as compete) and before you know it, the training for that one hour per day training for that local first race becomes 2 hours on weekdays, 4 hours on weekends hammerfests. Heart rates are through the roof and workload triples.

The problem here is that while the experienced triathlete may or may not be overtraining in their own right, at least they have a base. With decent form and some semblance of structure, they are less likely to get injured or burn out. The beginner, on the other hand, runs a very high risk of injury (IT bands and Achilles do not like all this new training so quickly), overtraining (lack of sleep, elevated Heart Rate, mood swings, lethargy, an appetite that won't quit one day and disappears the next), and ultimately - burn out. 0 to 100 to 0.

And it isn't just the beginner, either. Ironman triathletes are constantly overtrained and therein constantly on the razor's edge of injury and burnout. It just isn't all that normal to train 20 hours per week. Any way you slice that pie, there are only so many hours in the day, so many miles in our body, so many heel strikes and swim strokes our joints can handle at a time, and we must be very very intelligent and efficient in all that we do. It helps to have a plan. It is mandatory to stick to it. The best laid plan from the best coach in the world means 0 if you don't stick to it. And not sticking to it doesn't just come in the form of "coach X scheduled a 60 minute recovery run for me today, but I was feeling good so I made it a 90 minute run with intervals". This one is obvious. The more subtle bit of self-sabotage comes in the form of adding another workout just because the group is doing it, adding an ocean swim because your pals are doing it. This undermines the more comprehensive plan, the big picture and in the end will detract from your goals, not enhance them.

And I am not immune. I decided about a month ago to take a breather from triathlons and focus on running. I have several clients racing Vineman and I am signed up for it, so if I am going to be there, I am going to race. I mean, come on. So essentially I made this past 4 day weekend a ridiculous monster "let's cram two weeks of training into one weekend extravaganza." And I am spent.

Thursday - 40 Mile Rock Store Ride (tons of climbing)/6 mile run/Core work
Friday - 90 minute ocean training/75 minute interval workout on trainer
Saturday - 56 mile hammerfest on PCH/Palisades 10k
Sunday - 15 mile run to Manhattan Beach/1 mile ocean swim

This is too much. I am hurting today, but not injured. Bent, not broken. But I am very lucky. There needs to be a logic to training, a system of ebbs and flows. And as a coach and an athlete, I know beyond a doubt that I would rather an athlete be 10% undertrained while 100% not injured then 100% trained but injured. This doesn't mean favor caution over performance. This means - train smarter, not harder and trust your stuff.

bam

Party time, excellent

2009-06-29T14:57:00.000-07:00

I am due for an ultrarunning post and it is coming soon, but for now I wanted to send out an invite to an event this Thursday. My friend Jim Lubinski - of the 5 races, 5 podiums Lubinskis - is turning pro this week. I am putting on a congratulations party for him this Thursday night in Santa Monica. Open invite to anyone out there.

Where - The Room Santa Monica (1323 Santa Monica Blvd.)

When - Thursday, July 2 - 7-9

Why - Does anyone really need a reason? But if you do need a reason, this is a Team Next Step get together/congratulations party for Jim.

See you there.

Choose Your Own Adventure: The Curious Case of the Latently Gay Massage

2009-06-22T21:05:00.000-07:00

It is Monday. You sit at your desk and catch occasional glimpses of the sunny day outside. You already had the weirdest lunch with your friends, checked your daily Internet rotation, did the day's work and it is only 1. You feel logey and fatigued from lots of working out and little rest. Your low back is seizing up and your shoulders are tight. You haven't made a sale all day and you have no real motivation to do so, though you do feel guilty for not having that motivation.

Do you (A) get cracking, bust out some leads and get on the phone?, (B) text your friends and find a good massage place or (C) go to Starbucks, read for a few hours, go home to nap, then work out even though you shouldn't.

B. You decide to get that massage you have been putting off, a decision made all the wiser given the fact that you ran 80 miles last week, had a tumultuous few days on the relationship front, a week spent with family and probably more beers consumed in 5 days then the previous 5 months combined. You find a good place, and walk over there to make an appointment. You are offered 2 choices: (A) wait until Tuesday to make an appointment with the large Hungarian woman that was recommended to you or (B) take the 4:15 with a guy named Tony.

B. You don't really want to eat, your back is killing you, the miles are piling up and Tuesday means weekly dinner with friends, so strike while the iron is hot. You come back for the appointment and meet Tony, who promptly gives you the limpest fish handshake. Do you (A) fake a seizure, or (B) follow thru?

B. You came this far. You head back to the room, disrobe, get under the sheet and wait for Tony. He comes in, pulls the sheet completely over your body, then puts a sheet over your head. It is hot and weird. Do you (A) do nothing and wait to see what happens next, (B) politely ask him to turn the A/C on and demummify you or (C) fake a seizure.

A. Wait and see, you think, this may get good. As Tony starts the massage at your feet you begin to relax about the whole thing; he has incredibly strong hands and digs into your feet. Then your calves. Then you feel him reach a bit to get your lower legs. Then he really reaches for the lower back. You feel him reach and then - wait, did he just lift off the ground? You feel the massage table creak. Is he ON the table? He digs into your upper back and completely straddles you. You bet he is, this is really happening. Do you (A) fake a seizure, (B) let it play out since as awkwardly gay as this feels, he is doing a pretty good job or (C) buck him off, run for the door and hightail it down Montana with nothing but a sheet?

B. You did prepay after all and he is doing a good job, so go with it. How bad can this be? Bad. That is bad it can be, bad. There is a diminuitive Asian crawling on you. This is bad. You begin to think about how uncomfortable this and you begin to sweat a lot. You are now wet, uncomfortable, hot and confused. You think about what you would do if the roles were reversed and you were giving a massage as foreplay to a girl. You are startled to realize that these are the exact moves you would make. The trailing hand, the touch this way or that, the straddling. You become more uncomfortable about your own sexuality, about this moment, about a lot of things. In an effort to reclaim your manhood, you shift your thoughts from the present moment and back to a more 'sexy' heterosexual memory, maybe it involves cheesecake and a 12 oz plastic #5 to go container with a clear top and black base. This reassures you for a second, although you do wonder which is more erotic - the cheesecake or the to go container, but the pendelum swings too far the other way and now you need to think about something neutral. You find the happy medium - Roger Clemens. If you can just focus on fat Roger Clemens, not Red Sox Roger Clemens, but big fat Yankees Roger Clemens, maybe you can get through this. Tony climbs off and begins to work the shoulders. He comes around to the North of you and rests something on the top of your head. You do not know what that something is and you are scared. Do you (A) lay corpse-like in a fake death scenario, (B) crane your neck to figure out what it is, or (C) pray for the sweet, sweet embrace of death?

A and C. You are so far gone at this point, you just start estimating how much time is left. By now Tony has lifted the sheet wholly inappropriately but you still have to admit it is a pretty damn good massage. Incredibly gay, but pretty good. He makes a weird move, splaying one leg at a time out and digging his elbow into the 'glute'. Again, this is weird, but the lower back feels released for the first time in a week, so go with it. He tells you to roll over on your back. Do you (A) politely tell him that you have had enough, (B) roll over or (C) fake a seizure.

B. What more could happen at this point? Well, it turns when he asks you to sit up and straddles you again, the answer is VERY MUCH can still happen. Yes, he makes you sit up straight, an awkward move with the legs out in front of you and an all too thin sheet seperating you and another boy and then he climbs on the table to join you. You are oily and wet and confused and feeling very, very alone. You sneak a quick glance at the clock - 5:12 - and thank God that it is almost over and that you did not make eye contact with him. He finishes up by punching your back repeatedly, thanks you profusely and then leaves the room.

You are alone. And confused. What just happened? Not sure, but you should go home and blog about it.

Jumping obstacles & running jagged miles

2009-06-22T08:51:00.000-07:00

What a weekend. What an awesome weekend for my friends, athletes, whatever you want to call them.

Started Friday night with a run, what started off as a 'hell of a week, let's just run 6 sunset miles around the house' and ended up as some sort of interval-laden, barefoot, jumping off trees, sprinting up and down San Vicente with no shoes on, 12 mile crazy hustle that has to qualify as maybe the best impromptu run I have ever had. Took off running after throwing down many tacos and nachos with Jim at a taco stand in LA and really expect the throw down to turn into a throw up, but I felt strangely fueled by actually eating. First 4 miles were slow and steady up and down Ocean Ave. and then rather than running down to the boardwalk as is my normal route, I turned up San Vicente and took my shoes off. From there it was 2 miles up and 2 miles down, all with no shoes. I have avoided the grass median of San Vicente for so long, because I trip on the tree roots, but I am seeing that if I am really going to start running ultras I need to run off road. Yes, because the races are off road, but also because the focus that it takes for me not to trip forces me to concentrate on each step I take and not go off into some far away place. Taking the shoes off only magnifies the focus. If you have never tried running barefoot for extended periods of time, I recommend it. Done improperly it is a fantastic way to get injured and shred your feet and ankles. But done properly - for progressive periods of time, at a slower speed, higher cadence, it will have you running mid-foot or forward, with quick steps and will build strength in your feet and ankles, all the muscles that any runners tends to get injured over a long enough time frame. The last 4 miles devolved into a flat out sprint down Ocean, back up Ocean, jumping around trees, and basically running like a crazy kid. Without trying I ran sub-7's but felt like a million. Just a return to the passion and enthusiasm that I was looking for. Sunday's run up in Pasadena was more of the same. Another 10 mile trail run before a great Father's Day. So that's that.

The running made this weekend good. But what made this weekend amazing was seeing others do so well. Saturday was our first team clinic for the Children's Hospital team and it went off without a hitch. Actually there was a hitch - as Jim was getting out of the water he noticed a new triathlete, panic-stricken and in a total daze, leaving the water dejected and ready to quit. For a guy who plays a Terminator but who is really a Care Bear, he took her under his wing and led her back out. Proving the theory that no good deed goes unpunished, on his way out he was stung by a stingray. Now he was faced with a choice - as the venom was seering through his big toe and manifesting into the greatest pain of his life, did he turn back in and seek the medical attention he needed but risk permanently scarring this woman in the process? Or did he spend the next 30 minutes with her, calmly teaching her how to ocean swim? Well, I wouldn't be telling the story if it was the former. This poor guy spent 30 minutes enduring the pain until finally it started spreading to his groin, at which point he suggested they practice swimming back in - really fast. She will never know how much pain he was in and yet taught her how to swim. That was really cool. From there he went home and boiled himself and judging by our Saturday night's beer intake, I would say he felt better. But outside of this crocodile hunter episode, the day went great. Great presentations, people learned to swim, to transition, listened to my mumbo-jumbo and generally had a great time. Max and I stuck around for a 2 hour trainer/run session and went to Michael's birthday party.

If Saturday was the meal, Sunday was desert. Max, Charrissa and Michael were all running the Culver City 5k. I had quietly set time goals for them - Michael (20), Max (22), Charrissa (35) and each one of them beat these goals. They all spent time together before and after the race and all kept an eye on one another. I haven't seen it, but I heard a rumor about a TNS jacket up on the podium (Thanks Michael!). As they were all texting me about each other, I felt so happy for each one of them as individuals, but also for the little community that we are building. There is definitely a strength in numbers, positive motion thing happening here and I am loving it.

So yeah, it was a great weekend.

Nite Moves

2009-06-18T08:12:00.000-07:00

So what exactly changes when you decide to switch gears and focus on running instead of triathlon? Do you cancel all your scheduled races and throw your bike off the balcony? Put your wetsuit in a box and let your leg hair grow back. No, actually not that much really changes. Except for the leg hair thing, let it grow.

No, not much changes exactly except the ratio of running to the rest shifts from 1/3 to 4/5, and the swimming and biking become a compliment to the rest of it, rather than a focus. As for the triathlons I had already signed up for, the jury is out. I am signed up for Vineman 70.3, Malibu Sprint and Clearwater 70.3 and rather than racing them, I think I am looking at wine tasting, spectating and following it on the internet, respectively. Just seems odd to take a break from triathlon and then go out and race triathlons. Sort of a mutually exclusive thing.

But...last night I went up to Santa Barbara to meet Erika at Nite Moves, the Wednesday night race series that is a 1k swim, 5k run, or both. I was late getting up there for the 6pm race start and the run portion started at 6:30, so I just ran it. The course was gnarly, first half up hill, then turn around and run downhill to the finish. I was told later over beers by the guys who won it that the entire race comes down to 2 things - making the first mile in 5:45 and making the last 1.37 in 7 (the race is actually 3.37 miles). And I actually had managed to do that and ran a pretty fast time, all things considered. But I was more stoked about non-race things. For one, I am getting back to running in board shorts. May seem odd, but when I started racing a few years back, I swore to a man that I would not wear spandex and would race in board shorts. Somewhere along the way I got away from that and I am going back to it. I like my John Deere hat and my board short and my own quiet antiestablishmentarianism in this way. (Although you could say that participating in an organized event is cowtowing to the man, but I don't pay for races, so it's cool I guess) and the other thing is that I had fun running. I didn't know anyone and just sort of made friends with this large dude who looked like Andre the Giant slept with Luke Walton and had a kid and we ran for a bit together. It was nice to try to be nice and then even better after the race when a bunch of people I didn't know when out for beers and ping pong and I went and had a great time. I would definitely go back and do that race again.

So when you see the weird dude running up and down San Vicente in board shorts and no shoes, please do not hit him with your automobile.

Transition 2

2009-06-16T06:47:00.000-07:00

Funny thing happened last week that ties into everything else going on. First, my dad made a comment the other day about something or another that he only could have known about via this blog and then 3 or 4 other people did the same thing. I had blogged Sunday morning about Jim and Max's adventures in Boise and when I met a client for breakfast, he referenced said blogpost and it all just sort of made me feel highly overexposed via this here blog. Like this humble piece of bandwidth is basically taking the place of Dr. Finklestein's couch at $150/hour and I am laying way too much out there. And this tied into everything I have been thinking about for 4 months, since before the Oceanside 70.3, possibly since the day after Ironman Arizona, definitely since I became a coach and triathlon went from a fun hobby, an escape maybe, definitely a fulfilling aspect of my life to something different. Training became a have to, not a want to and racing became a "do I have to?" Really got me thing about who I am and what I do. And mainly how I don't want those 2 things to be one and the same.

I got into this sport in 2006 mainly because I was in a transition phase of my life and needed something to fill some newfound time and because there was a great big hole in my athletic history that needed filling. I had always run, I had always loved the bike, I couldn't swim 50 meters (true story), but the precision, the numbers and the competition of triathlon appealed to me. And like everything else I have done in mu life, every single thing, I wanted to be the best. I HAD to be the best, really, because I don't know from enjoying something for the sake of enjoying it so much. I loved clicking off miles and meters and seeing instant results. I loved that it was a value-added to my life, not my life. I got into the thing with my friend Anthony and we signed up for Ironman Couer d' Alene to check it off our life lists. He wanted to do Wisconsim because he likes to take his shirt off and wanted to train all summer but I convinced him to do CDA because I was dating a girl who had done it and totally sold me on it. And I started training, real slapstick and haphazard, swimming maybe 4000 yards per week, maybe, maybe riding 75 miles per week but running 100. I have always loved to run. That was July. By October I couldn't run 1 mile due to Achiles injuries that travelled all over the place. It would be a miserable 6 months of intense massage, frustrating setbacks and constant chatter from Anthony about how much I wasn't training. But it was still fun because the goal was there and because I could ride a bike. Very, very fast. And I didn't know yet that I wasn't supposed to be able to ride a bike that fast. All I knew is that I rode my bike a lot as a kid up and down the streets of Agoura and I guess I got good at it. So when we would ride with others and I could drop them sitting up it was ego-feeding and became a bit of a drug maybe. Training was fun, there was no pressure whatsoever, I tried a bit of swimming, got a littler better and eventually I could run again. Just in time for Oceanside 70.3 where I ran in - and yes, this is a true story - a pair of old shoes that Anthony gave me at the transition area that morning. Yep, they weren't mine, they didn't fit and they were totally blown. But I wore them and did well, got bit by the bug, made my entire family come watch me at races, did well, dated a triathlete, went to CDA and LOVED that distance, swore off Ironman forever, went to a world championship race - by myself, had some more success, learned a lot sitting at a desk job and using my time to educate myself, volunteered to coach others and figured out I really liked that abd generally just had a lot of fun in the process.

Then I got serious.

In 2008 I did well at Oceanside, got an Ironman Arizona slot and suddenly this great hobby became a job. Because numbers replaced feelings and my peer group wittled down to triathletes and there was constant comparison to this or that. Also because I got laid off. And so now I had all this free time and energy and a severance and I trained harder than I have ever trained for anything in my life. 100 mile run weeks, 300 mile bike weeks, even some 10k swim weeks. I was tan and I was fit and I was happy and I went to Arizona and had the time of my life. Truly one of my greatest memories, from meeting Jim and Cortney at Starbucks to drive out there, to the race, to watching Tropic Thunder and killing 4 pizzas after the race. I remember the locomotion of going faster and faster on that bike ride, the last time I felt truly connected with myself, with the bike, with the universe, at least the triathlon/athletic universe. That day represented the most complete thing I may have ever done. My dad was/is a good dad and I always remember thinking there was something missing in my effort to be like him and that day I had figured out in some metaphoric way what it would take to be like him, how he would want me to live my 'best life' - setting a goal, starting something, seeing it through when I wanted to quit, smiling the whole way and truly connecting with others. Sounds lofty or possibly lame to extrapolate so much from a day wearing spandex, but this is why I love triathlon. I really think the metaphors are apt and fair, most notably at the Ironman level. You change out there. Your life can take on a deeper meaning.

Or you can just look at the clock.

And here we are today. I am burned out. I find no meaning in it right now. Just finishing means nothing to me, racing means nothing if all I am going to hang my hat on are numbers on a clock. I am tired of my own constant comparisons and pressure. I am not enjoying it. What I am enjoying right now is taking others through it. Max in Boise, Joanna's ridiculous rides and runs I am assigning her, my Sprint clients who are riding to Big Rock when they weren't riding around the block, taking Don on his first ride on a new bike, and yes, watching Jim and Anthony KILL every course they touch. But, I am not going to abide my clients to merely train their bodies, we must dig deeper. The other day at the aforementioned Sunday breakfast with Michael, we had met to discuss his race schedule and goals. But i set his training plan down and proceeded to have an hour talk with him about goals and motivation. Same is definitely true for Max on his journey to iMAZ. We will establish the WHY's long before we discuss the HOW's. I dig that, that's enough. But as for me, I am burned.

But the monkey needs to eat and the committee in my head must be silenced so I am going a different route and that route - wait for it....

Ultramarathon. Yes, this is not surprising that I would land on a sport with a core group of zealots even crazier than triathletes, but the fact is as I looked back on what brought me joy - it boils down to 2 things. One, triathlon feeds too much of a precision fix for me. The cold metal of the bike, the tenths and hundredths of a second, the gears and all that gear. It is all too much for me right now and I need to get back to what got me started. Which leads me to point 2. I just need to run. Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about nature. Yes, I am one of the rare few who really does not like nature. It is dirty and full of germs and snakes. That said, few ultramarathons - 31, 50, 62 and 100 mile runs - are rarely raced on the streets. I checked. They are on dirt. Dirt is slower and it is bumpy and it is hilly and it is uncomfortable. So be it. I need that. I need a change of pace.

And so begins a transition...

Same Race, Two Different Racers

2009-06-14T05:55:00.000-07:00

2 of my closest friends raced in Boise yesterday, a half Ironman. A lot of things were unique; one, due to circumstance, I was here to watch it, rather than at camp like I was supposed to be; two, the race started at 2pm, a far cry from the usual 7am start, so I found myself smack dab in the middle of the day in a barrage of texts about who did what when and how they looked doing it; three, one of said friend's wife was there, we will call her Sofia, so I was getting first hand reports on the whole thing; and finally, four, it rained cats and dogs throughout the entire bike and run.

So I have these two friends and they could not be more different. Yet I love them both the same. One is the prototypical goon/tough guy/I don't talk about my feelings I just train until I puke guy. We will call him Jim. Jim and I became friends, not surprisingly, at a race last year and stayed friends until we, not surprisingly, both raced Ironman Arizona last November and went through that whole experience together. Since then we have spent much time together and it is one of those things where I share my weird thoughts and on most of the weirder ones he says 'me too'. Jim is also a former professional athlete, by which I mean hockey which is pretty good for being the 5th major sport behind soccer, meaning that he not only has a deep training base but a Terminator outlook and pain threshold. He feeds on pain, like some sort of battery charger.

Then there is the other guy, we will call him Max. Max and I also became friends through triathlon, albeit through the lowered intensity of the Children's Hospital Tri team last year. Max and I are alike in too many ways to list, which means we are 2 overly sensitive guys who think everything is about us. We are also alike in the sense that we were never athletes so this triathlon thing takes on deeper meaning for him as an athlete, and sometimes as a person. Also Max has a moustache. But that is his only similarity to Sam Elliott. Max is more like Chris Elliott. I am like Elliott from ET.

They both went to Boise with a very definite sense of purpose, and both of those definite sets of purpose could definitely not be set further apart. Jim: to win his age group and potentially get his pro card. He took 3rd AG at Florida last month with a poor swim and run (for him) and somehow 3rd place gave him the tiniest of shoulder chips which was all he would need to fuel the fire in the rain. And our friend Max? Max, like Cindy Lauper just wanted to have fun. That's right, he flew all the way up there, did the whole race thing, just to have fun. Preposterous, a slap in the face of God I thought. Who could do such a thing? But after racing this race last year and doing subpar to his own expectations, then feeling that he failed at Oceanside under the burden of his heavyhanded coach's expectations, under the even heavier burden of Ironman training staring at him tauntingly all summer, Max's monkey was dancing all over his back and it was time to kill it. By having fun, by recapturing the joy of doing triathlon.

From where I sit, I think Max's goal was loftier.

Race started at 2, so I spoke to Max around 8am to get into his head a little. No way he still just wanted to have fun. Not that guy, no way. But he told me about his friend's kids who made him a superhero cape and how they ran around the backyard playing and there was a levity in his voice that isn't usually there and yep, this guy was really there to have fun.

I did not bother calling Jim, however, as I didn't want to catch any collateral schrapnel and I didn't really have any sports cliches to lay on him.

And at 2 the texts started pouring in.

"Max just started, swim looks rough" And I remembered my race there when they gave us the option of skipping the swim.

"Jim out of the water in 36, Max in 51" I knew this had potential for a good day.

"Jim is off the bike in 2:15" WTF! I know Boise and therefore I know two things - the people can be racist and the roads aren't flat. Wow.

"It is raining and Max is off the bike in 3:04" Wow. This is where I took a little bit of the thing for myself - I can coach!

"Our friend Jim just finished in 4:15" This guy is going pro.

"Max is across the line and looks happy". And there is the victory.

Final score - My friends 2, Life 0.

They both reached their goals. And after the race, talking to Jim, it was hard to remember who I was talking to. Jim - well, Jim sounded lighter and happier than I have ever heard him since I met him. Like a little kid and it was refreshing to hear. Jim trains every single day twice, often at the expense of doing other things so it would be impossible not to get hardened by all of it. It is a job and then when you add your own high expectations on top, the joy is inevitably going to get sucked out of it. But listening to him talk about the bike and the run and pretending his friends were there cheering him on and riding in the rain, for a moment, just a brief moment, I heard that pure joy that I would think makes it all worth it. And I was very happy.

Peaks & Valleys

2009-06-08T12:08:00.001-07:00

I haven't posted in a week or so, for a few reasons. Things have - for the most part - been good, and since my blog tends to be angst-ridden or at least rant-laden, I haven't had much grist for the mill. But another explanation for my silence, which may seem contradictory but is not, is the slight depression I was in last week, by which I mean funk. And I don't mean funk as in Parliament but as in why is everything so grey and I don't really feel like doing anything kind of funk. So when I get like that the last thing I really feel like doing is broadcasting myself to the world. But then I figured out that I was just really hungry. And then I felt better. Pretty much. That and the weather. It was that simple.
So I went to Fatburger Thursday night and ate 2 Double Fatburgers that were delicious and suddenly I woke up Friday feeling better than ever. That, along with some good news on a few fronts, and some sunshine this weekend, and I am feeling like a new man. So let me get back on point: triathlon training.

This weekend is the Ironman training camp up in Palmdale, Thursday - Sunday. Rough itinerary is lots of riding, running and swimming with coached open water swim sessions, video gait analysis on the run and sessions on bike fitting and mechanics. All of it is up at Dan Empfield's (creator of slowtwitch.com) ranch in the middle of nowhere.

Besides that we held our second group track/trainer session this past Saturday, and 7 of us lined like hamsters next to the track for 3 repeats of 20 minutes trainer/1 mile track. I was amazed that our 3 long course guys (Max, Brandon, Michael) ran their fastest mile repeats to date, with all 3 of them touching below 6:30 pace. The beginners showed impressively well, all finishing this workout which is not easy by any stretch, especially when you push yourself as hard as you can.

As for my training, I switched to a new pair of shoes - the New Balance 904's - which is not exciting at all, but is to me because I am running faster than I ever have before, 6:30's consistently with Saturday's track workout dropping below 5:20 on the last mile.

I am glad I am not racing that much this year. I am discovering that I love training, I love racing Ironman distance, but as for everything else, I prefer to coach others to their fastest, or most meaningful times ever. It is much more rewarding to me right now than shelling out race fees, packing everything up, getting all geeked up and freaked out, racing for 2 hours then going home. That just doesn't do it for me. I am racing 2 Ironmans next year, along with 2 more 70.3's this year and that is just fine. I don't get so much from the racing besides some instant gratification, an ego boost or as Max calls it, the lab rat pushing a button for a pellet. Maybe he's right and maybe I am just tired of being that rat. Whatever the reason, I am finding a lot of satisfaction in not racing right now and that is totally cool.

So that's it.I am not dead, just haven't been blogging much. I am certain that I will have much to report about the camp and such.

Peace out

Triathinator: Perspiration

2009-05-31T06:10:00.000-07:00

I went to the movies last night. I saw Terminator. It was very very good. I am a big fan of the franchise, by which I mean the first 2 in the installment, because I didn't even see the 3rd one due to the fact that it looked so stupid and from what I hear it was. But this 4th one (1st one?) was very good and I highly recommend it. I saw it in Westwood and driving home I really wished that I was part man/part machine and I actually thought of how all the training is maybe an attempt to get there? For instance, triathletes can ride, run and swim very far, so can Terminators. The Terminators don't really go that fast unless they absolutely want to, like Triathletes. Terminators absolutely, positively will not stop until they are dead, just like Triathletes. Also Terminators have bad skin, like Triathletes.

100 mile ride and 20 minute run with Max yesterday. It was his first non-stop 100 mile ride, one of several en route to Ironman Arizona. And we could not have picked a much gnarlier day to get out there on PCH. Brutal headwind from the North. It usually hits you once you get near Bog Rock, but yesterday it was relentless from the get-go. We had 8 people head out for loop 1 (2 50 mile loops), but loop 2 was just Mr.Moustachio and myself. And I will hand it to the old boy, he got tired but he pushed through and finished strong. Off the bike we ran 20 minutes like a couple of creepy spandex weirdos running between 2 Little League baseball games in our man-child pajamas. Today is the LA Tri ocean swim down in Manhattan and an hour run with Jim.

I'll be back.
Go see Terminator.

An open letter to my appetite

2009-05-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

Dear Insatiable Pig Dog Bottomless Pit,
You win. OK, happy? You win. Uncle. Mercy. I concede. Is any of it ever enough for you? Is there any amount of food I could eat to make you happy?

Answer: No.

But you don't stop there, do you? It isn't that you just want food in large quantities, it's that you want large quantities of large caloric large food. Pizza good. Vegetables bad. Wine and cheese good. Water and apples bad. Yogurt sometimes good, sometimes bad. Ice cream always good.

Sure, when I am training more I feel like it isn't quite the big deal it would be otherwise, but I end up eating more therein negating the deficit that I just created.

And oh how sneaky you are. I try to outwit you, but you are smarter than me. Last night - wine and cheese Wednesday. So we tried to circumvent this high caloric orgy by eating spinach salads and chicken beforehand, but you got me again. Two plates full of cheese, 6 glasses of wine, spicy chocolate afterwards and just for kicks recovery drink and granola as a nightcap. Yep, that's right you f'ing PigDog. What the 2000 calorie cheese fest didn't quite satiate the Power Bar recovery formula and Bear Naked sure did (shameless plugs, yes).

Pizza.
Donuts.
Pitas with french fries in them.

But I sit here now with a little edge on you. Picked up one of Erika's habits - turkey breast slices and apples from the grocery. Beats the bacon and eggs I really want. But you are merely in remission aren't you, you dirty SOB. You will not stop, you will never rest, until I weigh 400 pounds. That's the end game isn't it. Because you are so smart - the more I train, the more calories I burn, the more food you want to keep me at even. If you had your way I would eat 1000 calories more each day than I need, just to stay nice and puffy. And you come as a wolf in sheep's clothing through messengers like Max - "my nutrionist told me to eat more to lose weight". Right, a likely story. You Pig Dog, you will not fool me that easily. You don't like it when I starve you because you can't survive. But you are nocturnal and you lay in wait. No, you lay in weight. Haha. Because at night I am weak, I am vulnerbale and you will strike tenfold with furious vengeance.

Bacon.
Cheese.
Fried anything.

And you come out at social functions - weddings, parties, whenever my guard is down. A little of this, a little of that, what could it hurt? Before you know it, though, I'm Fatty McGee stretching out my spandex and checking out my backfat. Yes, I see you Pig Dog. You have won this round. You know what cheese does to me. And it will take more than an 8 mile run or hour trainer ride to kill you.

But maybe, just maybe, it is I who am hunting YOU. So watch your big fat back.

Yours in Christ,
Brian Melekian

My swine flu problem

2009-05-11T12:34:00.000-07:00

I think I have swine flu. I am sluggish, lethargic, my legs are heavy and I feel crabby one minute and excited the next. I have not looked up the symptoms of the swine flu, but it stands to reason that this is my problem. Either that or I am just working out too much.

On second thought, it is not the swine flu. It is the working out too much thing.

Why am I working out too much, besides the obvious issue of my God-given crazy? I blame it on the company I keep Jim & Cortney racing Florida this weekend, Erika 6 weeks out from IM France, Anthony, Macray and Brandon 10 weeks out from IM Lake Placid, even David has me running with him in prep for the LA Marathon next Monday. I swim with Jim and Cortney, run with David, ride with Anthony, all the while training 3 days per week at Core Performance, which is supposed to be part of my 'rebuilding phase' plan. But what really ends up happening is that I am training for like nothing at all and yet training for everything all at once. It took me actually looking at the calendar to realized I hadn't taken a day off in 2 weeks and prior to that I had taken 2 weeks off. Sort of a weird all or nothing kind of thing. But I really laid down the hammer last week, filling in blank spots with long trainer sessions, 4 days of swimming, long runs and a weird 3 hour brick Saturday. Jim texted me Friday night that he was swimming Masters Saturday morning and yet I already had a 16 mile run w/ David on the books. So I did both. Now both were great, but I would realize later that night just the toll that this took. I was at a wedding in Montecito, sitting for a long stretch and when I stood up, I felt like my dad. Mainly because he was sitting across from me and he is always stretching his legs out as old people do (they also holds things way out in front of them to read them) and I found myself doing that too (the leg thing, not the far sighted thing). I was really really tired. I drove Montecito to San Diego, back to Carpinteria Sunday, in the 400 miles of driving realm and my legs were just toast. Woke up today and acknowledged that one day off wouldn't do, I need two. So I am doing it. Because I am training for nothing right now other than June's Ironman camp. Yes I am racing Vineman in July but my season is geared toward Clearwater in November, losing a bit of weight and then looking on to 2 Ironmans (Men?) next year and hopefully qualifying for Kona.

Right now is not the time to contract swine flu, by which I mean to overtrain.

bam

Heart v Heart Rate

2009-05-08T09:53:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post is being reprinted from the same one I just wrote at the TNS website; but I pulled back there and censored myself. The additional talking is at the bottom of this one.

Events of late have given me a chance - a need, really - to reflect on the why's of coaching as opposed to the how's, on the spirit of our athletes instead of their physicality and it has all sort of come together into a perfect storm that deserves attention here.

The other day I upped a client to a one hour time trial on the bike and run from the usual 30 minutes. She is a question-asker and let me tell you, many questions were asked. This one, she knows how I feel about questions. I love them, absolutely love them, because the worst thing a client can do in this remote training platform that we use is to not ask questions, not offer feedback, not push back and in the end, not engage completely with the paradigm of exercises we present to them. That is the crux of internet-based training; it is contingent on the honor system; she does the workouts or I get on 'er. Just kidding, it is based on the notion that you the athlete inherently have the motivation and drive to perform the exercises as prescribed, you have the capacity to release the ego and not try to do more, you have base knowledge to understand what is being laid out for you, but more than anything it is predicated on you asking me questions every step of the way. EVERY step of the way. I get emails 6am to 10pm and I welcome them. I feed on the questions my clients present to me, because it can be easy to try to fit athletes into simple boxes and it turns out that people don't fit into tidy little boxes. S

So back to case of my curious client. She is a question-asker, a researcher, a scientist, and she wants to know the how's and why's of everything from lactate threshold to recovery time to bike power to the wisdom of this workout before or after that one. And I dig that, and I will answer that, and realistically, I know the answer. A squared plus B squared equals C squared. This is just a law and it always fits. Always, right? Not so fast.

People are not things, we are not mathematical equations and on race day we are not - necessarily - the sum of our prescribed & executed training plans. In thinking about how to explain what I mean, I thought back to Ironman Arizona. I don't relish bringing up the narcissism of me all the time, but what can I say? That day, and the months of training leading up to it, changed my life, both as an athlete and coach. And it relates here. I began training for that November race in May, but after my layoff in September, I devoted 75 days to it. I made a conscious decision to throw out all my fears, to follow my heart, to launch my business in earnest and for 2+ months, live the life of a professional athlete. After 10+ years of a corporate grind, slaving away to fulfill someone else's dream, I would finally live mine. I would eat, sleep, breath and live triathlon. I would study, learn, train 2-3x day, eat well, nap when it called for it and ultimately set myself up for the best race I could possibly have. Never in my life would I be able to ask - what if? There would be no what if - ever. This is it. And I exceeded my goals, like by a lot. But there was a series of moments coming off that bike when I seriously contemplated quitting. My stomach was howling and burning and I couldn't stand up straight. I wanted out. At the mile 1 marker I stopped and shoved 2 fingers down my throat. Nothing was there. I couldn't keep anything down. All those people I had passed on the bike - some twice - were now passing me, albeit offering words of encouragement. And I pressed on. 9 minute miles. Debilitating pain. And I pressed on. And it subsided to a dull roar. And I pressed on. And at mile 7 it evaporated and I was running 7:30's. A possible 4:15 marathon turned into a 3:36 when all was said and done.

Why? Because I trained so well?

In part, but if it was only a matter of intervals, distance, laps and splits, I may still be out there on that course, or I may be sitting here lamenting that damn stomach ache and justifying my 12 hour Ironman. But I am not - I am proud of my time, sure that's great, but I am more proud of the size of my heart.

And that is what i explained to her. I push her harder, I demand more, I look FAR beyond the textbook and practical knowledge I have as a coach into her heart and soul. Because that is where greatness lies. It lies not in the legs or heart rate of a triathlete, but in their spirit and the fire inside them. I can get you ready physically but if it ended there, I would be doing half my job. If I don't speak to your soul, if I don't stoke that fire, if I don't get you ready for that MOMENT in the race - you know the one, it happens every time, in fact maybe many times during a race - when you begin the quitting and not quitting, the mental debate, then I have failed. The run portion of a race will very often turn into a constant negotiation. I must have the athlete prepared for that and armed with good, positive answers to those questions. I must because it is going to happen. But you can't quit, you can't. Quitting is a decision that takes less than a split second; the memory of it, that last forever. Conversely, not quitting can be painful; I have seen athletes run entire marathons not quitting. But the memory of that will also last forever.

And to sum it up I finish with another experience this week that brought this out of me, an afternoon at Children's Hospital. An entire floor of kids with cancer, the same floor where I stayed once. And watching those kids, some with no hair, some pushing IV's twice their height, listening them use acronyms and medical terms that no kids should know and the memories that this ellicited in me, my time there, the kids who weren't so lucky as me, the pain that I felt, that I never gave up, that I am here today maybe, just maybe, inspiring one person to achieve something greater, well if that isn't further proof that greatness lies not in thinking but in action, then I do not know what is.

Do more. Never quit. Train and race with your heart, not with your head. Be great.

______

And so when I look back on Arizona and why that day changed me forever, I just have to look to being 13 and not being able to walk. See I don't like 'navel-gazing' as my brother calls it, writing just about me or thinking just about me, because I know that no one's story is as interesting to other people as it is to them. I don't care too much about what elementary school most people went to or how they got their ass kicked at tetherball as a 9 year old and it wounded their soul. But in this case my experience as a 13-year old is highly relevant, if you want to read my blog. See, I couldn't walk. I threw up every single fucking day for 3 years. I couldn't see straight. I had to learn to be right-handed instead of left. I re did everything. And I never got to be a normal kid. Erika asked me the other day if I thought the cancer aged me and my answer was simple - it did not age me, it did the opposite, it retarded me. Triathlon is my high school football. That day in Arizona, that near-5 hour bike ride was my game winning shot that I can hang my hat on forever. Greater events have yet to come for me, but I never even had any of the normal ones that other people had to learn from and then surpass later in life. I am just living it all now. Talking to Jim and Cortney this morning at swim practice about his incredible capacity for pain and recovery and how so much of that comes from years of elite level hockey, I thought to myself - see? I have no foundation as an athlete, nothing to draw on. I am just starting. And while that bodes really well for my future, I would be lying to say I don't feel a little jealous of the people I train with and race against who can do this for fun, because I can't. Well, I can let's be honest, but I don't. I'll say it out loud with words - I need this. Triathlon and my relative success at it - well, I need that. It fills a void. It feels good. It is the very first athletic thing I can point to and say to most people - I am better than you at this. Oh and by the way, I cannot really walk a straight line or look at you without seeing double, you don't know that, you won't ever know that, but you will know that at mile 20 of a painful marathon I will pass you and I will beat you by 10 minutes even though you passed me at mile 3. That's right, this I can do. And it feels good. So I am going to keep getting better. :)

bam

The loudest of quiet workouts, maybe ever

2009-05-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

Monday, 11:30pm: back from the Dodger game, an hour on the phone, I probably need to go to sleep. And that move starts to happen...do I really need to get up and swim tomorrow? Wouldn't it be better for me to get some sleep? No, if I don't train, someone else will be and when we race, he will win. So I set the alarm.

Tuesday, 2am: Can't sleep, so much going on in my head. How am I going to get (INSERT ISSUE HERE) done this week? What if that delivery doesn't arrive in time? When will the uniforms be done? Am I really going to France on a month's notice? Is my phone actually charging?

5am: Alarm goes off, barely hear it. Like it is an afterthought prop in a dream about a dream. But it is just audible enough to wake me up. Text Erika - is she up swimming? I wish I was 7 weeks out from an Ironman right now, right at the I can't train enough yet if I train anymore I will rip an achilles stage. Stumble around, feel - and look - old.

5:35: Show up at ucla, cup of coffee spilling, clothes in one hand, bag perched on my back, jeez I can't believe I am doing this. But the quiet victories begin - I always am grateful for swimming once I am done. I set 15,000 as my goal for this week and given that I am only at 3,000 so far, I am not going to hit it in my bed, so at least I am here.

5:45: Jump in. Worst possible moment.

And then the best.

5:55: After our 600 warm up, Coach Dan announces the day. And I swear to whoever I thought he was kidding. I also swear I thought he was a total idiot for laying out this workout. But i was wrong.

800 pull
800 swim
2 x 400 swim
4 x 200 swim
8 x 100 swim

This is Tuesday. Like the workday that is sandwiched between 2 other workdays, replete with everything that comes with being a workday and this guy puts almost 5,000 meters on the books. My lane was really odd today, but I felt great during warm up. The lane leader was Puts on way too much SunTan Lotion Guy, followed by Intense Cougar Lady, then Thinks about everything and makes up nicknames in his head guy (me), and the caboose was little funny foreign guy. They are all very cool, but something was just weird today, like Cinco de Mayo f'ed with everyone's psyche.

SunTan Lotion guy leads out and promptly tries to lap us, which always crushes me. In swimming and riding when I am following someone who dusts me, it breaks me and I start pressing and before you know it I blow up. He then leaves after 800 and I am like WTF????? I had seriously contemplated confronting him about moving up a lane as not to screw all of us up, but the guy preempts me by leaving. Cougar Lady drops back because she has a race this week and concede to funny little foreign guy, mario.

And I cannot, for the life of me, find a rhythm. I just can't catch my breath. It's like I am panicking in the water. Every 25 meters sucks. I hit the wall with my hand, with my head. I get my hand stuck in between two lane markers, I veer into lane 5. I just suck. My thoughts are scattered. Is Erika swimming? Was Joanna right about her 1 hour time trial? How is Katie doing and who is she becoming? How can I be hungry after 3 trips to the buffet last night at Dodger stadium plus a dodger dog plus a carnation malted? Why do they still use the flat wooden spoon for those malteds in 2009? How much faster is Cortney thane me (yes, cortney i tried to race you when you weren't looking and the answer to the question is: much. You are much faster than me). But the number one question I am grappling with, twisting and turning over and chewing on is: when, not if, i will quit. Not 1% of me had any plans of actually finishing the workout.

The 2 800's were miserable. Awful. No math guy like me wants to do an 800 - 32 lengths. I dwell on numbers, live in Numbertown and staring down the unhappy side of 32 lengths is like looking at an entire mountain of pizza I have to eat: sure i can do it, but it's a lot to chew all at once.

But then a funny thing happened. The 2 800's turned into the 400's. Cougar Lady left and only funny little foreign guy and i remained. And his name was now Mario. For better or worse we were in it together.

And then the 400's were gone and the 200's got eaten up. We were making progress. I was losing his feet but not getting dropped. I was getting some of his draft.

And with 10 minutes to go, we had the 100's. Now I am not quitting. A numbers guy can chew on laps of 4. And we got 5 of them done. 4500 meters. Epic workouts on an otherwise un-epic Tuesday. Didn't expect, didn't see it coming. Shocking.

I am a swimmer again, 7.500 meters in 2 days. How did this happen? I can feel at one with my back muscles, my arms. My stroke is long, my head is flat, my feet are together and I am hydrodynamic again. The barge is no more, the torpedo returns. I love swimming again.

All because I didn't quit. And that's what we do, right? We don't quit. Isn't that what endurance sports is? A series of moments, a collection of mental negotiations, a system of training deposits and race withdrawls? But there is no bailout here, no quick fix. You either do it or you don't. If you want to race, hell even if you want to finish strong in anything longer than an Olympic, you will be exposed. The morning you slept in, the extra beer, that bowl of ice cream with 5 scoops, the final interval you didn't do, the rationalization you allowed yourself - it's all mental masturbation and you will pay the price on race day.

I know this. How do I know? Because I cheated my Oceanside training and paid the price. Cheating no more - it is time to stay on the horse, get the hay in the barn and find my perfect race once more. I know it's there, it's just possible I left it on Rio Solado Parkway and need to go find it.

Or maybe it is that black line at the bottom of the pool and I need to keep chasing it. Find your perfect race, it's inside you.

bam

This ol' pigdog of mine

2009-05-03T17:40:00.001-07:00

I am doing it again - toying with my weight, trying to lose weight, watching every single thing I eat, going to bed hungry. So weird. Why am I doing this? Because unlike most, I have adopted a screwed schedule this year with Clearwater being the only race I really care about, so I am theoretically in my off-season or pre-season right now. That said I am using this time to address my muscular strength issues and to lose weight when power is less important. I have said this before, like to the world through this blog and to those friends who are forced to listen, nod and say "No, seriously that's normal. Every thing you say makes sense", but i have a pigdog inside me who is never satisfied. I just eat, all the time and as soon as the food goes down my throat, the pigdog eats it and then I am hungry again. He is a real selfish SOB. I really see this when I spend any significant time around normal people and in an attempt not to draw attention to the savage pigdog I take on their customs and eat when they eat and as much as they eat, and I always end up starving. It has turned into a running joke when I drive to san diego to see my brother that the first thing he does is bring up food because he knows i want to eat. and usually it is pizza. the pigdog loves pizza, usually Round Table Pizza.

also the pigdog likes cheese, wine, steak, french fries & caesar salad. Which is precisely what he got last night at maybe the best dinner i have ever eaten in my life at sly's. do yourself a favor and make your way up there and enjoy it - phenomenal.

So here's my dilemna, the battle that is being waged - the power of the pigdog pitted against this irrational belief I have that i need to weigh 158 pounds when i race. why do i need to weigh 158 pounds? because lance weighed 158 when he raced. yep, that really happened. i really said that out loud. i am f'ing nuts.

but that's no secret. so how do i deal with this? how do i reconcile the big part of me that would just not eat for 3 days (done that already) against the part of me that knows how ridiculous that is on like 8 different levels? by laying out a multi-pronged plan, of course.

1. enlist professional help. thing is, i KNOW what to do intellectually. i prescribe plans for others. i just don't do it. physician, heal thyself, right. so i need to hire someone to help me.

2. eat less. pretty simple. eat less bad stuff, more good stuff and eat less of it.

3. eat more often. the hungrier you get the worse off you are.

4. eat more colors. need to get more greens.

5. make pizza and pizza-like foods more of an exception, less of the norm.

6. if all else fails, just throw up. hahaha, just kidding. that wasn't a cry for help joke, that was just a joke.

but seriously, this topic makes me crazy. i need to let it go. if you see me at round table chewing up pizza and spitting it out, please punch me.

bam

On camping

2009-05-01T14:39:00.000-07:00

I went running yesterday in the dirt and I started to formulate this blogpost. That's what I do now - when I train or am around triathlon, or whatever, I think - how can I blog about this? Because I like my blog a lot. In fact not to digress but lately I have had a few detractors who say I blog too much about triathlon (mainly people who share my last name) to which I say - ride a bike. Seriously, ride a bike and tell me this isn't a great outlet for whatever. And BTW, guess who can't win? Me - know why?, because when I blog about my personal life I alienate the triathlon right wing, so I am just going to go with my gut and try to find the meeting of my two loves - triathlon and Brian.

So anyhow, I was running in the dirt yesterday up at Sycamore Canyon with Anthony, Macray, David and a handsome young man named Eric and they were going nuts. Oh, this is the greatest run ever. Oh, look at the trees and nature and such. I started thinking - I am an old, grumpy man? I really felt like the 2 old guys in the balcony on the Muppet Show. I don't like nature at all. It's highly disorganized, it's dirty and it doesn't fit neatly into a suitcase. And as if to prove my point, I ran ahead only to be greeted by a gigantic rattle snake. I stood very still and he went away, but I thought back to how few rattle snakes I met on the Santa Monica bike path where I prefer to run.

But what does this have to do with camping?

Two things. One is a rant and the other is excitement. The rant - every one and their shaved brother is making the annual pilgrimage to Wildflower triathlon festival this weekend. It's the Woodstock of triathlon, they say. To which I ask them - did you go to Woodstock? Ever see video or pictures? Because it looks like it was a real mess. And I don't mean that in the 1993 trying to redo Woodstock corporate-style but then it poured rain kind of way, but in the everyone was dirty and gross, doing drugs and sleeping together without taking a shower kind of way. And then Hendrix played the National Anthem, so that was cool. Point is, I would not have wanted anything to do with Woodstock and I want nothing to do with Wildflower. Simply put, it looks gross to me. I like to shower. I like to prepare for a race by watching Shoot Em Up or Gladiator or anything on a TV that isn't plugged into a generator with 38 people sitting next to me who I don't know. I don't like camping at all, I do like triathlon a lot, but I really don't want to sully my love affair with triathlon by doing it in the dirt. Rent an RV they say. No. There are many, many races that don't require an RV. I am going to do those races.

That was my rant.

Now for something completely different - good camping. I signed up for my first Ironman camp, in June. I sense from talking to the camp organizer that I am not supposed to talk to much about the itinerary, or where it is, or whatever, but the little that I did get out of her is that it is 4 days of living and training like a pro. Well, without all the poverty, shaving and fretting. It means crazy bike rides, including the Wall - a 12 mile hill that they time trial out there every year. I am told the record is 45 minutes. On top of that there is gait analysis, swim technique video, professional triathletes, old school triathletes and maybe even a bike fitting, if I have the chops to charm my way into one of those. (This week's phrase is Chops, if you didn't guess).

I am super excited about the camp, in fact I have put in 20 hours of training this week primarily to prep for that camp. I am actually training for training, mainly because I know I am going to get my ass kicked and I am trying to stem the bleeding.

So that's my rant and my excitement for this week. Blog out.

bam

Up and down the mountain and back again

2009-04-28T12:57:00.000-07:00

This weekend - ok, Sunday really - was a day of ups and downs. These ups and downs were both physical and emotional. Let's start with the physical.

Sunday was Joanna's big half marathon day - the La Jolla Half Marathon. Simply put, this race sucks. OK, it doesn't suck that isn't really fair but it sucks if you want to set a PR. It begins at the Del Mar Fairgrounds - sea level - climbs up and over Torrey Pines, peaking at Torrey Pines golf course and drops back into the La Jolla cove, again sea level. So really you begin and end at sea level but in between you climb Torrey Pines which is horrendous and then run straight downhill for 500-800 meters from UCDS to the La Jolla shores - also horrendous. Joanna and I have gone round and round on the topic of her running ability so I am not going to bring it up here since I know she is reading this and I know it will just get us started again, but I will just say that she had a lot of room to improve and Sunday she showed just how much she has improved. On that course, that crazy hard course, she shaved 4 minutes off her previous PR. Awesome - definite high for the day.

The plan was for me to meet her at mile 8 with water as the race had a history of running out of water. Originally I was going to bring my bike, but I realized I would have a run on the books that day anyway, so I figured I would begin at the finish line, run the 5 miles up to mile 8, then run back with her, should she want me to. The fact that I would be running straight uphill somehow slipped my mind and I can just tell you - it sucked. That I was running 7:30's up the hill and 6:10's down it to the finish line - that did not suck. Another high for the day.

Breakfast at the museum cafe - awesome. Another high.

Taking my 7 month old nephew for a walk and dinner with my brother and his wife? Definite high.

Then came the low. And man oh man was it low. It was 10:30 and I was asleep when I heard a thud and the loudest, deepest, purest, scariest, truest, most blood-curdling scream I have ever heard in my entire life. It was my sister in law and it woke me up instantly. Then came another scream, followed by my name. And with that, I was out of bed, running down the hall and fully expecting to see like 2 murdered bodies or my little nephew on the ground. I was still asleep, confused, the whole thing was surreal and I had no idea what to expect. If I would have seen Ewoks and Hitler dancing a jig, I could not have been more startled. My brother, my 29 year old punkass brother, on the ground, out. And instantly I felt confused. What happened, what is going on, what do I do. The baby was screaming so I calmed him down while she called 911.

Later I would find out that he had gotten up to go to the bathroom & collapsed. At the hospital it would happen again. Very ironic because earlier in the evening I had stood up quickly and almost passed out, a fairly typical reaction known as a vasovagal response. This happens to me fairly frequently since my brain surgery, I have just come to live with it, but when it happened to me that afternoon, my brother and I chatted about it. Well, it seems that something similar happened to him, only much much worse.

The next day we would come to find out that a viral infection had weakened him, exposing a heart condition that still hasn't been totally identified and ultimately it will all be just fine, but it sure didn't feel so fine at the time. There is nothing like being faced with the mortality of someone you love to put things in perspective. Yes, it can be scary and depressing but at once it also makes you appreciate what you do have. For starters, being there - in San Diego, on a Sunday night - is pretty random for me and there is no logical explanation why I was there. But I was and I was there for my family. I am really grateful for that. Second, and more importantly, I am really happy that everything seems to be working out OK. It is nice to live in a country with such amazing medical care and possibilities. Things could have gone a lot, lot worse.

And now, back to training...

bam

65th birthday plans

2009-04-23T17:12:00.000-07:00

I had this weird thought that I would write a blogpost entitled 65th birthday plans. I had a concept - draft an Evite, but a futuristic Evite, replete with lasers and actual powdered heroin that shoots from the computer, as will be the custom in 2039. I was going to tell jokes about the future and where I wanted to be and some knee-slapping hilarity about hovering cars and of course some thinly veiled reference to triathlon and my still-futile quest for Kona. Kona, by the way, would in 2028 be sold to China in a government bailout by the Chinese of the failed American government under the Beckham administration (many constitutional amendments would occur in the 20's).

I was going to write all this but I realized I didn't, and don't, have the first clue on where to begin. I lack the chops. So if my sarcastic kid brother, or wordy cheese-eating Max want to take a crack at it, please do, for I do not know what to do with these ideas in my head.

bam

We were on a break

2009-04-19T11:33:00.000-07:00

Over the course of a relationship there are going to be ups and downs, moments where you actually take a step out of yourself in the context of that relationship and get very grateful for being in it and moments where you just want to be alone and you think it would be easier that way. I guess the thing is, how badly do you want it? Are you willing to sacrifice and compromise to make the thing work? Do 1 & 1 equal 3? What are you willing to give up in order to get more back?

And so it was in my relationship. We were in a real down phase, the worst one ever. I didn't forget those unbelievable highs we had experienced as we were breaking up but maybe I just chose to ignore it. It didn't matter, I wanted out. Did that make me a quiiter? Did that make a bad person? Would I regret it? What was I letting go? I looked around in Oceanside and I saw so many other people in great relationships and here I was feeling very alone and somewhat f'ed up. I remember starting the run and feeling strong but I couldn't stop thinking about how disappointed I was. How could my relationship have taken me to such great heights back in November and let me down so immensely today? I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry. And when I saw her after the race I yelled at her and told her how she had messed my day up.

My poor Cervelo. She never let me know that it was me who messed up in Oceanside. She let me figure that one out all on my own. The 5:06 in Arizona? That was me. The lame bike ride in Oceanside? Me too. Turns out it was me who was the problem all along, not the bike. I may have left her after Oceanside, but she never left me. Because yesterday we got back together. In a big, bad way.

115 miles. Rolling course, LA to Solana Beach. And I got my groove back in an epic way.

After Oceanside I really thought I had lost it, those 26 mph sprints where the transfer of power from head to legs to pedals to wheels to pavement was so clean, so round and so perfect, they were gone. I couldn't find it, no matter what I did. I rode uphills. Nothing. I rode on the trainer. Nothing. I took a break. And I rode to San Diego. And - I killed it. I am back!

I know I am back when at mile 110 I come up on a pack of riders and without blinking, dust them. Max was close behind and watched one of the guys try to catch my wheel and just lost it. He couldn't hang, none of them could. Let me cut to the chase, this is no time for humility - I rule. I am so very back right now that I just kind of want to let you know about it. I am in love again. I make amends to my beautiful Cervelo for the horrible things I said to her after that race, for throwing her down in my living room in disgust, for leaving the race wheels on her for two weeks and grease all over her. For suggesting that I was going to replace her with a newer, hotter model. It wasn't you, it was me. I was wrong.

But after yesterday I promise I will not stray again. I have big plans for you and me - it is going to be an awesome summer - KIT! Brian and Cervelo - BFF!

bam

If I don't blog about it, does it really happen?

2009-04-15T15:51:00.000-07:00

I am entering a new training phase - the Rebuild Phase i call it - and i will be blogging about it at the TNS Community site for the next 6 weeks. Check it out there and talk to you soon.

bam