Author: Crushing Iron

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Ironman Louisville from the Sidelines – The Bike

The first thing Jim and I did when we rolled into Louisville was stop at Skyline Chili.  The result of hotdogs and chili on my stomach was not pretty and could have been foreshadowing or symbolic for what I was about to witness.

We were there to watch our buddy, Racer K, who is now a firmly entrenched in the “Fab 5” and training for Ironman Wisconsin.  I began this story here with a pre-race and swim analysis, now I continue with my interpretation of the spectator tension of watching good friend on the Ironman bike course.

Watching people run up the ramp after they’ve just swam 2.4 miles in a river is wild.  There is a hint of discombobulated mixed with intensity.  It’s no game when the next challenge you face is cycling 112 miles in the hot Louisville sun.

Racer K came out of the water in about an hour and a half and I’m not sure he saw us, but definitely heard our yells as he jogged by to hop his bike.  He returned a half-hearted, yet reassuring wave without turning his head.

We scurried toward the bike exit and after about 10 minutes, caught a quick glimpse of  Racer K as he road off into the sunrise.  It was before 9 am and I was already hot.

The next time we’d see him was about 30 miles into the trek.  Jim and I jumped in the car headed to a quaint little town named LaGrange and the feeling I get while watching races in these small towns returned.

The community seemed to rally, and the festivities were evident, but the undertone was
“this little Ironman thing” was a nuisance to many of the locals.  I don’t know why I get that feeling, but think it’s the looks while parking in front of someone’s house and unloading our chairs and other gear.  It’s times like this when I really think some people don’t like people.  I mean, no one said anything or flipped us off, but I just sense that closing streets for one day really upsets people that are generally upset in the first place.

Anyway, we stood along the main street and kept an eye out for Racer K.  While we waited we ran into some fellow East Nasties, including Season (who’s finished Ironman Wisconsin) and Daniel (who was recovering from a bad bike accident and is now part of the Fab 5).  While we waited on Racer K they kept mentioning someone named Robbie.  Robbie crushed the swim and he’s kicking ass on the bike.  Robbie, Robbie, Robbie.  Who was Robbie?  Well, as it turns out, he’s now my Ironman coach.

Finally Racer K screamed by us on a short downhill and was on his way out of town for the first of two 30 mile loops.  For the fans, this is the ultimate, “hurry up and wait.”

Let me tell you, watching an Ironman is no day at the beach.  We were up at 5:30 and it was now about 10:30 and I would have much rather been riding a bike a hundred and twelve miles than standing on the side of the road on hot pavement.  I must have taken 200 pictures of racers while we waited for Racer K to make his second loop.  We didn’t know it at the time, but Racer K. . . and Robbie . . . were both in trouble.

It was a festive atmosphere watching thousands of riders blow through LaGrange while the voice of Ironman shouted their names.  Crowds lined the road and the energy gave the athletes a boost of adrenaline.  But when that short stretch was over, guys like Robbie and Racer K were forced to look inside for fuel as they road through barren countryside, alone with their dreams.

Three hours passed, and there was no sign of Racer K.  I vaguely remember Jim mentioning he saw Robbie at one point, and it’s possible I may have clicked a picture of him without realizing as I rapid fired on hundreds of random cyclists.

Going into the day we were convinced that Racer K’s time in all events would be pretty comparable to Jim’s Louisville effort from the year before.  But as we watched the clock and Jim did his calculations it became evident that Racer K was falling behind.

When he finally came through, he looked a little rough and told us he’d been sick.  He couldn’t keep down food or water, and it doesn’t take an expert to realize that’s a big problem in an Ironman. I silently thought of Skyline Chili.

Robbie had similar fate.  He underestimated the heat effect and (told me later) his sodium got out of whack.  At one point Season and Daniel saw him sprawled out on the side of the bike course.  His goal, his energy, and his outlook, shot.  Somehow he managed to regroup and finish.  Robbie has done several Ironmans, and his Louisville time was disappointing, but if you ask him today, he’d tell you he’s most proud of that race.  Nothing went right and he had the will to finish.  It has also inspired him to go back this year for redemption.

Jim and I took the long slow walk back to our car and hoped for the best.  We knew Racer K was in a bad place and he still had at least 60 miles left on the bike before running a full marathon!

At that point, Jim and I were focused mainly on Racer K’s disappointment.  Surely he knew his goal was slipping out of reach.  All the time and energy he’d spent working for this day appeared for naught.  I wasn’t sure of his goal, but I’m guessing it was around 13 hours.  He would need a miraculous turn of events to secure that finish.

We drove back to the bike entrance and watched as throngs of people completed their 112 mile journey.  We must have calculated a hundred possible outcomes for Racer K.  “If he can do this and just does that, he will still have a chance for . . . ” Every 10 minutes it seemed we were conjuring new possibilities.  And for the longest time we felt so bad because his goal was falling faster and further out of view.  It was off a cliff, and as it neared 6 o’clock, we genuinely feared he may have thrown in the towel.

At that point he’d been on the bike course for over 8 hours.  The bike cut off was 6:30.  If he didn’t come in before that, his day was over.

Jim and I had been together for almost 12 hours and we began to spread out.  I sat in the shade on a wet lawn in front of a bank and Jim kept checking his Ironman Tracker just to make sure we didn’t miss Racer K.  I was starting to wonder the same thing.  Did we somehow miss his arrival?  It wouldn’t have been that hard, but the reality was, we knew he was still out there, nearing exhaustion, pounding the pavement.

Finally, within 30 minutes of the bike cut-off time, we saw him coming down the home stretch.  I was shooting video, but suddenly felt guilty about catching such a painful moment and turned off the camera as Racer K rolled by on his way to the run.  He made it and we were back in support mode.

We ran to the “run exit,” prepared to run alongside him for the first mile or so.  After about 10 minutes he emerged like Stallone in the 15th round of Rocky I.  He was a battered man and I had nothing to say.  I had never been in that position and more than anything feared saying something I would regret, so I ran silently as he and Jim shared thoughts on the run.

We rolled along at a decent pace, considering what preceded him, then Jim and I peeled off as Racer K began to ascend the massive Ohio River bridge.

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It's Heating Up – Swim, Bike, Run, Ironman

Juxtaposing Ironman training with other races is tricky.  As I prepared for the New Orleans Half Marathon I was leery of doing too much because I wanted to run well, and it paid off.  But now that it’s over, most of what’s on my plate is triathlons, and preparation should fit seamlessly into the program.  And that program, is getting intense.

Yesterday, I swam for an hour, mixing in sprints and paddle work (which I now love).  Last night was a tempo run of about an hour and ten minutes.  I still have to pinch myself at times when I’m routinely knocking out an 8 mile run after work like it’s no big deal.  A year ago, I was sweating my first 5k.

The body’s ability to adjust is remarkable.  I wasn’t easy to digest a long-ish run last night, but Mark and I hammered the first of two 25 minute tempo runs pretty good. Daniel joined for the second loop and my legs got heavy, but my breathing rarely did. That’s the amazing part to me.  Just like the New Orleans Half.  I didn’t feel like I was breathing hard at all until I hit mile eleven.  Our aerobic capacities are far more than most of us can imagine.

I remember a lesson I learned from East Nasty Godfather, Mark Miller when I started running last year.  He said the minute your exercise becomes anaerobic, your risk of bonking elevates.  That’s why little things like slowing your pace before you reach a hill are important.

Out of all the things I’ve learned, that one stays close to my brain.  I’m always flirting with the edge of my breathing while I run.  If I’m breathing more than every 4th stride on running, I take note and back it down a little, especially if they are hard breaths.  That’s the edge for me and usually I’ll only push that hard if I’m toward the end of a run.  I consciously focus on taking a deep and relaxed breath to see if I can extend my stride count.  Many times I can.  Even if it’s to 4 1/2.  To me that signals I’m in my comfort zone.  Then it all comes down to what’s left in my legs.

Cycling (albeit inside on a trainer) has really boosted my leg strength.  We’ve done up to three hour sessions, followed by 30 minute runs.  I’m not sure of the mechanics between biking and running, but I feel like time on the bike also makes me a faster runner.  The more I think about it, the more I find the bike an incredibly powerful workout.

If you haven’t spent a couple hours on a trainer, without the wind in your face or a fan and you can’t believe how much you sweat.  The illusion of wallowing through the meadow on a bicycle will quickly be shattered if you lock down a spin wheel on your back tire.  I am really anxious to see how the indoor training translates to the road.

Tonight, it’s back on the trainer for a big gear/threshold session and I’m looking forward to inching closer toward being a “finisher” at Ironman Wisconsin.  It’s the little steps, the small gains, and the barely recognizable shots of confidence that make a difference in the end.  That, and training with a group of guys and a coach that continually give me a jolt when I need it most.

For me, Ironman is 90% about confidence, yet that 10% doubt lurks at all times.  The nagging pain, the bad workout, the exhaustion.  I am banking on momentum to dilute the doubt, the negativity, and I’m seeing the power in that principle more every day.  And that theory is making me more aware that I need to surround myself with positive and inspiring people in general.  Life is too short to be around people that bring you down.

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Last Night I Ran

I started with an 20 warm up jog then got down to business:

30 sprint, 30 off, repeat
45 sprint, 45 off, repeat
60 sprint, 60 off, repeat
1:30 sprint, 1:30 off, repeat
60 sprint, 60 off
45 sprint, 45 off, repeat
30 on, 30 off, repeat

Several of the sprints coincided with hills.  I finished with an easy run to make 60 minutes.

It was rough, but In the end I felt great about being able to run a decent pace for the last 15 or so even though I was winded.  My legs felt strong as I glided along to complete the day which included an early morning swim.  I felt like I could have kept going for another hour or so at a jogger’s pace, which is really encouraging.

And from “Today’s Random Conversation” file, what every woman wants to know . . . what do guys talk about inside the men’s locker room?

Earlier that morning, I was sitting in the locker room after a swim and was a fly on the wall as three older black men were having a discussion.  They were all kinda overweight and I surmised part of the morning pool exercise crew.  They moved confidently at a very slow pace while I scrambled impatiently to get the heck out of there.  I am quite fond of random locker room babble and this trio did not let me down.

For the purpose of my recollection of their conversation I’ll call them James, Ray, and Carl.

James: Man, have you seen Bobby around?

Ray: Naw, man.  I ain’t seen him in a couple weeks.

James: Yeah, I heard he was sick.

Ray: He must be sick cuz he was comin every day and gettin in that pool.

James: Yeah, he must be real sick.

Ray: He was in that pool every mornin.

James: I hear you, man. Boy gotta be sick.

Carl: Better get him a Z-Pak!!

James: I know that’s right!

Ray: Hell yeah.

James: He must be real sick.

Ray: Yeah, he was serious about that pool for a month.  Every damn day.

James: Aww man, he must be sick.

Carl: Boy better get him a Z-Pak.

James: Yup.

Ray: Uh huh.

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How I Will Cut 25 Minutes Off My 1/2 Marathon Time

Note: I wrote this a couple months before running the New Orleans Half Marathon and didn’t post it because I was struggling with the the fact that some of my posts were getting on my nerves.  I was also probably very confident that day and deep down a little afraid of getting in over my head.  But, since I’ve actually finished the race and did exactly what I thought I would do (even better) I feel like there may be something of value here and not just a big bag of wind.
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Originally written January 14th, 2013

I’m sure this post gives the impression that I’m a cock-ass, but the reality is, I like to push myself and think we generally underestimate our abilities.  So much of endurance racing is mental and I hope you can find one or two things in here that help you reach the next level. 

I wasn’t feeling great yesterday, but decided to take a little run after breakfast.  The plan was to start slow and maintain a comfortable pace for four or five miles.  I ended up going ten.

The whole time I was thinking about my plan for the 1/2 marathon in New Orleans.  I thought about the full, but am not sure I want to push my body that far yet, so the goal is to run my best half.  And here’s how I plan to cut 25 minutes off my first half marathon time of 2:14:33.

The reason I’m confident it will happen is because I’ve seen so much progress.  I have two months before New Orleans and yesterday’s run gave me a major boost in belief.  I started slow, kept it at a comfortable pace, and averaged an 8:57 pace for ten miles.  That pace is only 40 or so seconds away from what I’d need to run to clip 25 minutes.

So, how have I made this much progress in roughly eight months?  And how will I get from here to there with two months until the race?

Cross Training

Since I ran my first half last April I have taken a big interest in triathlons, which has added a lot more swim and bike to my routine.  Neither can be underestimated when it comes to running performance.

My first triathlon was a Sprint and I was more concerned about finishing than blasting through any of the individual phases.  I felt good coming out of the swim and took it fairly easy on the bike to make sure I could actually run the entire 5k.  As it turned out I felt better after that run than I had in any other run I’d done to that point.  There was something about the full body workout that agreed with me, and if I hadn’t been so paranoid about finishing, I think I could have easily run my best 5K after the swim and bike if I would have pushed harder.

There is no denying that biking makes you a faster runner.  I used to do a ton of mountain biking in my 30’s and felt like I was as fast on a baseball field as I’d ever been.  Biking is great for explosive and fast twitch muscles.

Swimming clearly helps your endurance, but it is also great for balancing your muscles and strengthening your core.  I haven’t been killing myself in the pool, but knocking out a couple 1,000 – 1,500 yard swims a week goes a long ways on the run.

I’ve also been doing a lot of push ups and ab work on the side during tv commercials or between editing sessions.  The key here is to do it when you feel it.  I never go to fail or push myself to the point of exhaustion.

Consistent Running and Maintenance

I really don’t run that much.  It kind of scares me.  But I do push myself to run at least twice a week and normally it’s between 3-6 miles.  Until yesterday, I hadn’t run more than 8 miles since the 1/2 marathon, but I have been running those short distances harder and I believe that helps overall endurance.

Three weeks ago I ran a 12k (7.25 miles) at what used to be my 5k pace.  It was a mental breakthrough and what made it possible was running with faster pace groups in training.  It’s like playing sports with better athletes, it can be painful, but you always improve your performance, and in the case of running, those sub 9 miles start turning into sub 8 miles with the same perceived energy exertion.

I’ve also stayed fairly consistent with the foam roller and leg strengthening exercises.  Nothing crazy, but a consistent focus on making sure my legs are warmed up and loose before and after runs.  It goes without saying that running is easier when your knees, ankles, and hips don’t hurt.

Learning to Relax into Form

Every mile I try to remember to “shake it out.”  The repetitive nature of running can cause tension in all parts of our body.  It takes a little more energy to let your arms fall and swing them around, but I always find it gives me a boost.  I also like to put them over my head and stretch as far as I can.  It’s interesting because I can literally feel the blood pulsing through my arms when I do this.

The other thing I notice in long runs is that I typically get sore/tight/lazy in the hip flexors which makes each step utterly painful at times.  This is when I know I really have to concentrate on my form.

When our hips are tired it means we’re sort of throwing the legs forward instead of running.  First, I mentally try to relax both of my legs and let go of tension.  Forcing my toes to spread out and letting go of any pain that may be creeping in.  Then I concentrate on my momentum and finding the controlled fall that forces me to think more about lifting my foot rather than pushing off.  I literally say “lift” to myself over and over as I run, while concentrating on “pulling” my foot toward my ass.  I’ve found this takes a ton of strain off the hips and forces me to glide more than lunge.

Another thing I do with regard to pain is the minute I feel something in my foot, ankle, knee, hip, stomach, etc, I force my mind to go somewhere else.  I mean, if it’s a serious pain, that’s a different story, but I have so many little nagging bouts during a run, I do my best not to focus on them and they usually fade away.

Hydration

It’s obvious to drink fluids during a race, but I am a big proponent of hydrating when you least think you need it.  It’s really about having a well oiled machine going into a race more than it is to put put an extra quart in a smoking engine.

Hydration is a year round process and with the amount of beer I put in my body, I have no choice but to take it seriously.  I have pretty good habits with water, like drinking it right away in the morning and pounding more than I think I need after a workout and I believe both go a long ways.

I also plan to add more fruit and vegetables to get the hydrating benefits of water based foods when you don’t feel like drinking water all the time.

Take Advantage of Race Energy

I feel like race day is good for 15-30 seconds per mile when compared to my training runs.  The energy of the crowd and other racers drive you to new heights.  With that in mind, my plan is to purposely start a minute and a half slower than the necessary pace to reach my goal of 1:49:33, which is 8:21 per mile.  So, I will do my absolute best to run the first mile of the half at a 9:51 pace, which will more likely translate into a 9:30 pace in the excitement of the moment.

The key for me is holding back and finding a nice rhythm.  I think it is always better to start slow and fall into your pace rather than start at it or faster.  Yesterday I really paid attention to this and noticed that around mile 7 I would catch myself pacing around 8 minute miles without really trying to hit that mark.  I instantly slowed it back to a nine minute pace, but I’d always pick up speed.  I guess my point is, it’s better to control yourself by backing down to the right pace than having to speed up to get there.
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Post Script:  My actual time for New Orleans was 1:42:03 which means I cut over 32 minutes off my only other half marathon.

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Running For Something

A while back I wrote a blog about my best friend from grade school but didn’t have the nerve to publish.  His name was Tim.

We played sports together from grade school through High School.  Tim was a great athlete and an amazing overachiever.  We were roommates in college, then he went into the Army and ransacked Europe for a couple years.

He was a crazy fucker and always getting into trouble.  We parted ways after college and he moved to Milwaukee where he landed in Sales for a staffing company that supplied companies with temporary workers.  Before Tim, that company never had a Fortune 500 client on their roster.  Within a year, he signed up four.

He was a relentless salesman and wasn’t afraid of anything.  Certainly not a no.

His methods were as unconventional as they came.  He’d spent months saddling up to an HR Director for a major company in Milwaukee before finally he got his chance.  Tim invited his boss and the company president to join him at the table.  The company president took over the meeting by going into a long spiel about about how Tim’s company would do this and do that and have x-amount of people ready at all times to satisfy the needs of their client.  Tim sat silently and watched as his boss’s boss lied through his teeth for 15 minutes.

When the president ended his pitch, the HR guy, who knew Tim well after months of sales calls, looked at him and asked, “Tim, can you guys do all of that for us?”

Tim, looked him in the eye, and matter of factly said, “No way in hell.”

That was Tim.  He shot straight and saw no reason to lie.  He called me out constantly on the simplest things and wouldn’t let it rest until I came clean.

Tim was tenacious and it came at a cost.  He had a dangerously addictive personality and while living in Milwaukee, cocaine became his diversion of choice.

He was working 14 hour days and that company was blowing up.  He’d get huge orders for temp. workers, then have to literally case the streets of Milwaukee to find enough people to fill the positions.  It was grueling work and on most nights, he would go home do a few lines, then sleep.

He was in and out of counseling for years and told me once his therapist said he was so wired that cocaine was actually a downer.  He used the most prevalent party upper of our time to relax!

Fast forward 10 years when Tim was living in Savannah.  He’d been through rehab and started his journey clean.  Then slowly, he started drinking again and things ran out of control.

He lived on Tybee Island and had a few more sales stints before slowly losing his way.  We talked almost every day and while I knew he was struggling to find work, he was always optimistic.  It was quite amazing, especially when he told me he had cancer.

He’d gone to the doctor because his back was killing him for months and they found a tumor.  Then a subsequent scan showed it had spread throughout his body.

He was consistent with updates and went into fight mode like only Tim could understand.  He started juicing and eating raw foods, along with an intense vitamin regiment.  We talked multiple times a day and there was no doubt in my mind Tim would turn his life around and beat this thing.  He had actually been at a new job for about three months and decided to quit so he could stay focused and move back to Wisconsin while he recharged himself.

On his way back he scheduled a couple nights in Nashville so we could hang out and catch up.  He called me the Friday before and said he was really excited to get home and watch the Packers and Badgers with friends and family he hadn’t seen in years.  I too was excited and optimistic to see him in 7 days.

Of course a bunch of us were all in contact at that point.  All doing what we could to sort it out and see how we could help.  On that Sunday, one of those buddies, Marty, called me around 2:00 in the afternoon.  They all called me Rope.

“Hey Rope.”

“Hey Marty, what’s up?”

“Are you sitting down?”

I couldn’t believe it.  Tim died.

Marty told me they thought he died in his sleep sometime between late Saturday and early Sunday morning.  I was stunned and completely wrecked.  He was my voice of reason, my daily confidant and my therapist rolled in one.  We had spent hours talking about dreams that never happened.  A wild exchange of passion that flew through the phone lines then out into the universe like they never happened.  He was my carbon copy in so many ways.

Tim died on Halloween and it shook me pretty hard.  I immediately vowed to take action on some of our ideas.  We’d been loosely working on a screenplay about his life in sales and it’s still sitting in my computer.  I haven’t been able to touch it, but Tim’s death has given me strength I wasn’t sure if I could muster.

I silently pledged to, at the very least, live with more vigor.  It didn’t happen overnight, but it gnawed at me for a couple months.  Tim was in overweight when he died and the first thing I decided was that I would find my health.  But, I still couldn’t do it.

I trudged ahead with similar patterns but so many things reminded me of Tim.  He was always there.  I kept his last phone message and replay the infectious laugh on occasion.  I was bummed and feeling sorry for myself.  Finally, it dawned on me that Tim would have been pissed at my lack of action.

Eventually, I took the the plunge on running and succeed in my first 5k.  Every race since has been a major challenge, and Tim continues to be an inspiration.  He was always up for a party, so I know he’ll be in New Orleans where I’m sure at least once, I’ll hear him screaming from a balcony as I run by . . .

“Come on Rope, you got this!”

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More Nerves

So, all of a sudden I’m sitting here a little nervous about the New Orleans half marathon.  It’s this Sunday and I know I can complete it, but have no clue whether or not I’ve trained right. 

I’ve honestly started looking at all upcoming races as training grounds for the one and only race that has my real focus: Ironman Wisconsin. We’ve been talking about a 1:45 for me at New Orleans, but if that comes with a need for a few days off, I’m not sure how I feel about it.  It’s going to take a serious effort from me and will literally cut 29 minutes off my only other 1/2. 

Oh, who am I kidding, I’ll probably shoot for 1:30 and deal with the consequences. 

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Swim Training

I really want swimming to be my favorite event.  I have been pretty consistent at getting to the pool, but it seems like every other swim goes to hell for me.  And by go to hell I mean gives me little confidence about completing the 2.4 miles. 

Now, I know I will be ready and will finish the swim regardless.  I did an Olympic swim in miserable conditions and was breast stroking 200 yards off shore.  It took about 43 minutes (13 minutes than more than my target pace) but I made it out of the water with plenty left for the bike in run.

The one constant in my bad swims is trying to go to fast too early.  It’s very difficult for me because, similar to the stationary bike, swimming in a pool just gets on my nerves sometimes.  I just want it to be over.  So I push and try to get out faster because the lane feels  claustrophobic and I’m not a big fan of chlorine.  So, I push and wind up out of breath.  Unable to relax.  I swim far less than I’d hoped and promise to do better the next time. 

We were supposed to have a swim lesson from coach this morning at 5am.  I was reticent, but made a decision to go because I need someone to correct my stroke.  Unfortunately, he texted everyone last night and said he was sick, but I’d be lying if I didn’t feel relief.  Still, the mornings! 

It’s all about the warm up.  I have to remember that.  In an hour and a half swim (that’s my Ironman goal) a few minutes of light, slow, and relaxed strokes at the beginning will go a LONG ways for me.  I want to get stronger, not be looking at the shore from a mile away going, “holy fuck… how will I make it?” 

Drama. 

I’ve made a decision that swimming will now get a higher percentage of my workout plan.  I grew up running and biking.  They are built into my fiber and I only have 200 days to do it with swimming.  I really like being in water, but my goal is to feel completely comfortable the moment it starts.  Running and biking will take care of themselves.  Not being ready for the swim could break me. 

Now, I realize people say you don’t lose the race in the swim, but I disagree.  Less people to pass and more intensity from better racers.  15 minutes may not seem like a lot, but when you’re hoping to come in under 13 hours, that will leave a lot less margin for error on the bike and run.  Just sayin…. And the debate starts now . . . .

 

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Building for an Ironman

I believe that everything is on a continuum. 

I’m not a big fan of ultimatums and don’t think people are simply one way or the other.  There are at least 50 Shades of Grey.  On one end is death, the other, complete aliveness.  Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, and I believe that applies to training as well. 

I have been striving to be completely awake.  Training like never before, pushing my body to the limits in pursuit of ultimate bliss. I can honestly say that I feel better than I have in years.  The workouts have been intense and often.  I have been completing several of them, but not all. 

The guys I’m training with are amazing inspiration.  No less than 8 times I have laid in bed before a Saturday or Sunday workout and contemplated texting them with some kind of excuse.  Each time I have resisted and shown up.  That is because of them.

On the other hand, they are way further ahead of me and I am trying to keep up with their schedules.  When I say “way further” I mean at least a year and that is a huge time frame when I look at the progress I’ve made since I started running last January. 

Ironman is gonna be dicey for me.  There is no question about it.  I will have literally risen from the ashes in just over a year and a half to tackle one of the toughest races known to man.  It is a major challenge, and I embrace every second of the pain.

But I realize that I have to do this at my pace.  I am constantly thinking about Ironman and what it’s going to cross the finish line.  Time is only one factor.  I know that will likely be between 13 and 17 hours.  I also want to do it without breaking. 

Swimming, biking, and running for 13 hours was the furthest thing from my mind a year ago.  Even when I finally understood what an Ironman was, I couldn’t even comprehend it.  Now, I can. 

At this point I believe I could complete a half Ironman.  It would be torture, but I think I have it in me.  That leaves 201 days to double that distance and do it in a way where I am actually happy with my time.  It almost feels like I’ll need the stars to align or something, but I’m trusting the path and trusting that subtle things will change.

I need to start getting to bed and waking earlier.  I need to sleep sounder and eat better.  I need to build strength and confidence.  I need stay focused.  I need to believe.  

So, when I reject workouts, I believe I am doing the right thing for my body.  The last thing I want is injury or burnout.  I want to build slowly, but with a tinge of pushing the boundaries.  I have to build and grow.  Then build and grow some more.  I’m nowhere near ready, but I will be.  And, the bottom line to all of this is, I really want to write a book called, “How I slept my way to an Ironman.” 

 

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Longest Bike To Date

As usual I had a tough time sleeping last night and was “this close” to calling in sick for the morning workout.  On top of no sleep, I ate a terrible dinner last night and was a little worried about what a 3-hour-group-training ride would do to my health.  Not to mention the 20 minute run that followed.

My alarm went off at 6:15 and I laid in bed through a couple snoozes, calculating my next move.  I reasoned a dozen excuses and promised I would do the ride later that morning.  Surely, after a little more sleep and a solid breakfast I could breeze through this workout.  But, something gave me a last minute push and I waltzed into the YMCA around 7:15. 

I had already made the decision I would only ride 2 1/2 hours instead of three.  My apprehension was two-fold.  One, I didn’t really see the point of such a long ride, and on top of it a full hour longer than I’ve ever gone.  And two, I am continually worried about wearing down, especially on low sleep and bad fuel. 

About 2:15 minutes into the ride (that included a progressive scale spin class) I decided I would ride until 10 o’clock, which would have been about 2:40, but the group laid on the guilt. 

“Why would you quit 20 minutes away from the goal??” 

I responded with the logic outlined above, put my head down and kept peddling.  Before I knew it, 10:00 was there and, and while reticent, I decided to go the extra 20 minutes. 

Someone said quitting then would be similar to scaling Everest and going back down a few hundred feet from the top.  “Would you do that?” 

I said it would depend how many cameras were on me 🙂 It’s the journey, right? 

But, seriously.  Sometimes I think that this early in the training (over 200 days out) I will benefit from going a little less on some of these heavy workouts.  Especially in situations like today when I know I can make it.  For me, that’s 90% of the battle.  If I have confidence in the distance, that counts for a lot. 

But I know that races are won and lost on these cold and early Saturday mornings in February.  I used to spend hours on non-glamorous baseball drills that made me a far better player.  I think today was a great example of that, and I’m happy to report, I feel great.  In fact, it’s about 3:30 now and I almost think I could do another 3 hours if I wanted.  But, I’ll just save that energy for tomorrow’s 10 mile run. 

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Butter My Balls

Warning: This post is pretty tame, but if you’re easily offended by jokes about bike chaffing and all that goes with it, you probably should go over to this site.

Well, I’m catching a lot of heat from my training partners these days.  Why?  Because I am reticent to partake on occasion.

Tomorrow, we’re slated for a 3 hour trainer ride and my “plan” is to show up an hour late because, frankly, that is an hour longer than I’ve done in my life on a stationary bike.  And while they are calling this the “building phase” I feel like I have a little more work to do on the basement before putting up the framework.

Even mild mannered Kevin got involved in the skewering with this text: “That’s alright, Mike.  I hear all the greats skip the base period of training.  They jump right to peak workouts.”

He has a great point!  But you know what?  The greats will be sucking my d*ck in September!

Okay, sorry.  I had a brief stint of cocky-ridden angst, that I will try to control for the rest of this post because it involves a slippery subject, butter.

Yes, ass butter has changed my life!  (When’s the last time you heard that sentence?).

I finally got on board with “Shammy Butter” last night and am praising the heavens. I relayed my enthusiasm to Jim and he said, “You should try that butter when you’re riding.”  Ha.  Good one!

I was getting a little concerned because the bike is my “strong event” and I was really having trouble peddling for more than an hour, but mainly because of that undefined sensitive area has to really wonder what the fuck I am doing to it every time I jump on this bike!

But now . . .

I rattled off a nice 1:30 ride last night and barely noticed my “spot” (though it might have been partially due to the captivating lesbian-art-film I cued up).  So, yeah, it was a power gear session and I felt incredibly strong (almost like I could have gone for 3 hours), which of course gave me confidence again.

Speaking of confidence, it really takes something to walk up to another dude in a bike shop and talk about spreading cocoa butter on your ass and balls.  It’s a little disturbing how comfortable these types of conversations are becoming.

“Hey man, how’s your rash?”

“Fucking awesome, I lubed up a muddling tool and rolled it around my nuts for an hour.”

“Sweet, that sounds amazing!”

“It was!”

Anyway . . . So, the jury is still out on the morning bike.  I guess I’ll make that decision after TONIGHT’S bike workout.  I am also contemplating an outdoor ride tomorrow, but I know my training partners are too wuss to ride in cool weather.