Author: Crushing Iron

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Getting Ready For Ironman Chattanooga

By Mike Tarrolly for the Crushing Iron Podcast

Next week the co-hosts of the Crushing Iron Podcast, Mike and Robbie, will descend on Ironman Chattanooga . . . as spectators. We have ten C26 athletes racing, (including C26 athlete, Ross, who had an amazing story to tell on a previous podcast) and will be soaking in the entire experience.

We thought we’d organize a look at some of the Ironman Chattanooga information we’ve compiled since the event started. After you finish this post, check out this one with 18 story/video links to things we’ve covered at Ironman Chattanooga in the past.

Here’s a podcast (the Crushing Iron Podcast is released every Monday and Thursday) we did about Ironman Chattanooga if you want to check it out:

Thursday/Friday: For starters, let’s talk about the first thing you should do when you get to downtown Chattanooga: Check In!

We are big on getting this out of the way. If you get into town on Thursday and make a quick drive-through to soak it in, park, get out, and check in. It’s just so much nicer to get your gear bags, chip, etc. and have it back at your room early. Plus, lines get increasingly longer as more people get to town. Thursday is optimal, but certainly early Friday morning so you can start loading your bags and go get anything you may have forgotten. Because, other than a morning tune up, Saturday should be treated as a day of rest with minimal walking.

Saturday is bags and bike. (We always like to remind people that they will have a final chance to check their bags race morning). We also like to drop our bags and bikes later in the afternoon when the lines are down and your bike won’t have to sit in the sun as long.

Race morning can always feel a little hectic, so below we’ve screen grabbed the timing for transition, shuttles, and the race start.

Quick story about race morning: In 2015 when I was racing Chattanooga (this is Mike), we stayed at the Chattanoogan, which is a really nice place, but about a mile or so walk to transition. We left insanely early and I was groggy as usual. I feel like we got to transition about 5:15 which was in PLENTY of time, but when you start hearing bus engines take off, you get the sense that you’re falling behind. We rushed to check our gear bags, then scrambled to the bus. It’s about a 10 minute bus ride and five minutes into said ride I realized I forgot my timing chip at the hotel. This happened because I put the chip into one of the backpack pockets instead of immediately putting it on the counter with everything else. Dumb move.

Talk about a panic moment. Thankfully the woman right behind me said she did the same thing and thought she heard they had extras at the start. Well, this was true. (Note: If you DO forget your chip, make sure to turn it in after the race or you’ll have to mail it back. If you don’t they charge you for it).

The problem was, they have them at the front of the line. The bus drops you off at a place that is essentially the middle of the line. So, I walked all the way to the front of the line, then all the way back to the end of the line forming line where my friends were. About two extra miles of walking for no reason. So, I’d walked around 3 miles before the race started, which really bummed me out, but it turned out to be my fastest race to date, so who knows.

When I raced it was a first come first serve rolling start. I can’t find anything that says it’s “self-seeded” so I’m thinking it may be the same. The earlier you get in line, the earlier you get into the water. If it’s a wetsuit optional swim, the people in line with wetsuits are asked to step to the side and they will go in after all non-wetsuit swimmers enter the water.

Race Morning Schedule:

Here’s a little more info from the Ironman Chattanooga Athlete guide that’s good to be familiar with:

And finally, here’s another screen grab about timing chips, race cut off times, etc.

Here’s a video we made for 2017 Ironman Chattanooga. Watch it, then go enjoy your race!

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So, You Want To Be A Triathlon Coach?

By Robbie Bruce for Crushing Iron

“What is it like to be a triathlon coach?”

I get this question all the time from both athletes, friends and complete strangers. Some are interested in actually becoming a coach and some are just curious about what exactly you do when being coach is your full-time job versus just a hobby.

They see that I get to work from home, wear whatever I want, be flexible with my hours, etc. They get to see the great results on social media and how great our team does. You get to make peoples dreams come true!!!! Sounds easy and amazing right??? You work in your pajamas and help people achieve dreams! Sign me up!!! While most of that is true it is still just about 10% of what really goes on.

This is what coaching is really like:

Imagine for a minute, every single one of your closest friends felt totally comfortable and open enough to tell you anything and everything. When they were having great days or terrible days. When their relationship was perfect or when they were breaking up or even going through a devastating divorce. When they loved their job, when they hated their job or even lost it.

They also tell you when they got the job of their dreams and a pay raise that will change their life for the better. They told you when their struggles with depression were affecting their life in so many ways it was just hard to deal with. They text you to tell you about how hard it is to deal with a dying loved one or that someone had passed away.

They tell you the exciting news that they are having a baby! When they have unexpected illnesses or injuries that make them question all their training or even if they can accomplish their dreams and goals. They tell you they feel like a failure and are crying but they also tell you how incredible it feels to be so healthy and achieving things they never thought possible with tears in their eyes.

Now imagine you have about 80-100 close friends just like like that.

After that sinks in now pretend that every single one of those friends has also asked you to help them achieve a huge goal that they have admitted they cannot do themselves. They need help and guidance. They have trusted you to help them get there.

So now it is your job to construct a plan each week that not only pushes them to be better but also sets them up for success versus setting them up for failure. You map out a weekly plan and then you listen, watch, and wait. Every day. You read their comments. You hear their voices either on the phone or the tone in their texts and emails. Are they tired? Are they overtraining? Possibly overreaching? Do they really need a day off or a cancelled session or is it time to see how they can adapt and respond? Then you either hold pattern or make and adjustment. That’s Monday….

Most every other day of the week is the same Mon-Fri. But when Thursday rolls around its time for some of those close friends and athletes to start getting ready and prepared to race. Some races are just stepping stones and others….. well…… they are lifelong goals and dreams. There are nerves, questions, concerns, doubts, etc. Every day. You guide them and do your best to help them navigate the best they can.

Then, for race day, you lay out a plan you believe will give them the best chance to succeed.

Imagine building a car from scratch with you child or best friend. You don’t ever touch the car physically you just give them the instructions on how to build it and watch them put it together piece by piece. Then one day you both open up the garage. You hand the keys over and they leave with that car for hours, and hours and hours while you just sit and wait in the garage in silence. That is what race day week feels like. You just sit and wait.

After race day you get back to work. Some things go great and some times we fall short. You don’t need to tear down the whole car and build it again but you are always looking for ways to improve. When the athlete performs great and meets all of their expectations you give them all the credit. They did the work. If things fall short then you remind them that “WE” fell short. Its a relationship. You do this together.

Then Monday rolls around again and you get back at it.

I often times really wonder if athletes and some coaches understand the difference between coaching and “training.” Personally I see them as very different. If you deliver a plan weekly or monthly to an athlete but have little to no contact and communication on training and most importantly life….. you are just training an athlete.

You are a trainer. You are not coaching the person. I am sure there are some people that will argue with me on this and thats fine. But believe me, there are A LOT of trainers out there disguising themselves as “coaches.” I understand that coaching means different things to different people and honestly I don’t think that aspiring coaches understand the mental, emotional and physical investment that goes into actually training the athletes AND coaching the person.

So let me tell you what coaching means to me.

Coaching is first and foremost caring. You care more about your athlete as a person than the results they produce on the race course. Results are expected but they are not the only metric for success. You coach athletes in a way to make them more sufficient on their own and NOT more dependent on you. You listen when times get tough and you provide a steady hand when their training and motivation waiver. Coaching is a mutual and equal relationship where you are both valued and heard. Coaching is communication and the most important tool a coach has is just “paying attention.”

Believe me, I understand how wanting to become a coach seems attractive. Coach someone to their first Ironman???? What a great feeling! But those 10-15 hours are but a drop in the bucket for you and the athlete. But if you are really coaching then what you see at the end is the entire journey you will never forget instead of a finishing time you won’t remember next week.

So… do you still want to be a coach?

For a deeper understanding of Robbie’s coaching approach, please check out the podcasts below. For more information on C26 Coaching check our Coaching Page or email Robbie at [email protected].

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Aim Low

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

I don’t know about you, but I like to aim low. It seems counterintuitive but aiming low means you get into a habit of hitting attainable goals and all that aiming low means you’re aiming high in the long run.

In my nearly 6 years of Ironman training I’ve had a tendency of being unrealistic. I started with limited mountain bike experience, but hadn’t run 2 consecutive miles or swam more than a few continuous laps in my 48 years of life. The goal for my first Ironman? Kona.

I didn’t really talk about it, but in my mind I kept saying, “Why not me?”

I think I’m a good and deserving person, but just being me wasn’t good enough to get to Kona. I did work my ass off, but it wasn’t enough to overcome history. Others had been working harder, for much longer.

I WANT IT NOW

I’ve had a tendency to want things to happen fast. Like, big projects to be done, tomorrow. It doesn’t work that way.

A few years ago a friend asked me if I wanted to help him put together his film, Saving Banksy. They had started the edit and he wanted me to help him clean it up and finish. I thought it would be about a month of work, so I said sure.

It took two years.

Honestly, if I knew it was going to take two years, I probably would have said no. But a funny thing happened after a couple months. I started to feel pride in what we were working on. It wasn’t a “goal” anymore, it was a process of accomplishment and I started looking forward to small gains. I went from wanting it to be done, to wanting it to get better.

I don’t want to say I mastered documentary filmmaking, but I did discover the importance of process, and aiming low. And once that happens with something, you can translate what you learned to anything . . . even triathlon.

10/17 RUNNING

If I’ve learned anything about Ironman it’s that a successful run is very difficult after a 2.4 mile swim and a 112 mile bike ride. In fact, I’ve pretty much failed each of my five times. I say fail not because I didn’t finish, but because I feel like I didn’t learn and get better.

As I train for my 6th Ironman in as many years, I have taken a step back. With 103 days until the race, I’m aiming low.

In my heart, I’ve known the run was about durability and strength, but for some reason it didn’t click. I need to spend more time on my legs and “build that chassis” as Coach Robbie always says. But, what if you don’t like running that much, or worse, it beats the shit out of you?

You slow down.

Over time I’ve discovered my natural running cadence is about 8:50 – 9:00 minute miles. That’s where I settle-in on easy runs. The problem is (when it relates to Ironman) I cannot hold this pace for more than 8 or 9 miles before my hips, ankles, and soul crumble to pieces. So, I decided slow down, restore the foundation, and build back up.

The problem: running slow is hard for me. So, I created a little game.

I set a 10 minute pace as my floor. If my watch dips below a 10 minute pace, I start walking and hydrate until that pace gets to 17 minutes. For someone as impatient as me, it’s been a Godsend.

In the past, I’d set out on a 7 mile run with “easy pace” expectations, but invariably put down the hammer. I’d be overwhelmed with curiosity about how fast I could do it rather than a stepping stone. It always hurt and usually sucked the life out of my desire to run.

Since I’ve started the 10/17 method, I’ve finished every run with confidence that I could keep going, and more importantly, I’ve often wanted to keep going. I haven’t been nearly as sore, my frequency is through the roof, and my overall pace is not that far off what I’d like to do in Ironman.

THERE’S ALWAYS TIME

How many times do we look back and say, “I wish I would have done this?”

I believe we don’t follow through on things because we are impatient and aim too high.

It becomes a sea of wasted opportunities because we don’t value the little steps. High goals tend to make things seem overwhelming. You don’t live in a mansion because you want to live in one, you live in a mansion because you saved and invested in today a long time ago.

But we see all this overnight success now. A band blows up and all we see is the fame. What we don’t see is the years they sat around in shitty apartments writing lyrics on pizza boxes. It was the early commitment that delivered the spoils.

We see all these people going to Kona, but we don’t see the pain, the struggle, and the effort they’ve put in for years.

And while life moves fast, there is still time. Time to embrace the little things. Time to improve. To learn. To grow. Time to aim low.

We talk a lot about the 10/17 run in our latest podcast “Relaxing For Better Performance”

Coming to a C26 Camp is a great way of aiming low to aim high. The environment is extremely supportive and we have a saying: We start together and end together. You make great friends, challenge your ability, and build confidence. Below are a couple video samples of what you’ll experience at a C26 Triathlon Camp. Camp registration for 2019 is now open at this link.

 

 

 

 

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The C26 Triathlon Camp Diaries – Day 1

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

This is how we do it . . . it’s Wednesday night . . . Party people on the westside throw your hands in the air. Or however that song goes. . . we start camp on Wednesday night.

It’s always interesting meeting everyone at Robbie’s the first night because even though I’ve been there multiple times it is one of those new and really tricky neighborhoods that I cannot navigate on memory (which you will see later is extremely rare later in this report). There are usually about 15 or so people waiting when I walk through the door where a Facebook-meets-real-life explosion typically goes off in my head. It’s like I sorta know everyone but not really, and really do know some people but it’s been a while, so I’m not sure if I’ve said something dumb on the podcast they’ve been waiting to confront me about for months. Ahh, the perils of internet-street-level fame.

As I move deeper into Robbie and Allie’s inner sanctum, people are usually face first in what always seems to be the perfect dinner for everyone. It’s a simple, yet jazzy fare that could easily roll as a vegan delight, or be quickly hopped up with side chicken for meat eaters. The salad/meat combo does really well for gluten sensitive campers and if we’re lucky, someone will bring huge cookies or cake for dessert. Of course everyone drinks their personalized liquid direct from water bottles.

After dinner, Coach Robbie takes the stage as we sit around on every chair they can find and jam into his living room. As you can see to the left, I’ve yet to figure out a perfect angle for a group picture, but I’m getting close.

We then go around the room with simple introductions and everyone says what they’re hoping to get from camp. Robbie goes through the camp plan and potential changes with any looming weather. This is usually when Hayden gets a little unruly and wants to spend more time with daddy forcing Allie to scramble for toys or another toddler diversion, including a trip upstairs through 3 or 4 campers as she navigates the staircase.

This entire opening night takes about two hours and we’re are typically back at our lodging (home in my case) before 9.

THURSDAY

I have extreme pre-race sleep anxiety. Anytime my alarm is set with a “4” at the beginning, that pretty much means I will not be falling asleep that night; and typically the night before camp starts is no exception. The weather threatened our first morning at the lake, so we shifted gears and went to Boost Fitness for a pool session. Said session was to begin at 6 am. Said session is also 30 minutes from my house, so said alarm was set for 4:45.

Around midnight I was really regretting not pounding some type of melatonin. I “think” I dosed off for a while around 1:00 but was up at 2 and this process lasted until I heard one of my weekend roommates up making coffee around 4:15. It was over. I hit snooze once and put on my sleepless-morning-happy-face, but knew that I would not be swimming one stroke that morning. I’m not in the best swim shape and swimming without sleep could have ruined me for a couple days. Instead I focused on getting cool video of cool people swimming at 6 am.

After a couple hours in the pool and some awesome personal instruction, we went for a light breakfast at LePeep in Belle Meade, which is the old-Nashville-money part of town. We immediately snagged 5 prime tables, clearly frustrating several people in tassle loafers and shawls. Not to be distracted, the sweaty and famished triathletes went to town on their post-swim meals. I sat with Erika, Jessica and Katie, the Richmond Crew. I’ve known Erika for a while, but it was the first time to chat with the other girls and let me tell you, they are hilarious if not edgy sarcastic.

This is where I’m usually reminded of how cool the people are that come to camp. The first night is a little about nerves and meeting new people. The first workout is acclimating and getting over wearing tight clothes in front of said new people. The post breakfast is where the true triathlon athlete spirit and unabashed hunger comes out. People will plow down anything right in front of anyone (including little old ladies sipping tea) which, if you think about it, is a very personal moment. We seem to cross a threshold at this point and from there on, the guards are down.

The next session was at Percy Warner Park, easily one of the most beautiful, yet daunting running venues in Nashville. It’s nestled at the end of Belle Meade Boulevard (think Thurston Howell III and his wife Lovey) and retains a certain kind of elegance even when it’s muggy and drizzly like it was this morning. The assignment? Run for an hour and thirty minutes.

The route we take is called “The 5.8” and it’s 5.8 hilly ass miles. You start going straight up for about the first mile, before finding some relief on flats and downhills that eventually drop you into Deep Wells. It was foggy and misty and absolutely stunning in a cinematic sort of way and I was really regretting not shooting video instead of running. But, I’ve been on a little roll with the run and it’s very hard for me to pass on Percy Warner Park.

The problem with Deep Wells is “It Is Deep” ie… at the bottom, which can only mean one thing. It’s time to climb again. And we did. Mile 3 is an absolute torture device that never seems to end. Up straight, up right, up left, up right . . . and even though I’ve run this track dozens of times, for some reason I always think that’s the last hill. It never is.

There are about 5 more, in fact, most manageable, but one is kind of a bitch. By the time you get to mile 5 (these are all rough estimates so please do no put them in your Garmin and hold my feet to the fire after you run it at camp) it’s all down hill, but the first 1/2 of that mile is Quad Buster Central. Early in my running life, this was the section that gave me a not so pleasant, but firm introduction to my IT bands. The last half mile is also downhill, but at a perfect grade for running and a welcome way to bring it back to the car.

But wait . . . that was only about an hour. There’s still 30 minutes to go.

Instead of retracing the course, I opted for a few more miles on the flat-ish Belle Meade Boulevard. Aside from its pretentious nature, it is a great way to look at big houses and wonder why and the hell you didn’t end up living in a mansion like that, which I did wonder about and pin pointed the reason to the time when I had a nice mutual fun started out of college but decided to pull all the money out and travel around partying in Florida. But, anyway, that’s neither here nor there, just a point I thought I would get into the open for therapeutic benefit.

I think that, for some reason, not living in one of those mansions made me want to prove something, so as I re-entered the park, I ran directly at the stairs. As I did, I was saying strange things like, “uh oh,” and “look out!” to anyone who would listen. Instead of going back to the cars, I scaled the Roman-Ruin-Like staircase and ascended to the heavens. I felt surprisingly strong as I screamed back, “Who’s with me!” and “Let’s Do it!” I’m pretty sure no one even acknowledged me or thought I was losing my mind so I barreled up the steps alone, with no mansion to speak of, but possibly a greater reward waiting at the top.

Well, I can assure you there was no such award, and the ease of my glide turned into cement filled shoes about 100 steps from the top. But . . . I made it . . . and . . . I put my hands in the air and looked down upon those mansions like I was now in control. But I wasn’t. I was just a sweaty guy at the top of a staircase with no mansion.

Despite two tough challenges right out of the gate, spirits were high. We even had a few campers finish loop one, then turn around to run it in reverse. Let me tell you, that is no picnic. One loop is around 600 feet of elevation on its own, so logic would tell you that two loops would be around twice that, but only God and the two-loopers’-hamstrings know the real truth.

It was super humid and Coach Robbie gathered all the soaking wet runners for the next day’s instructions. “In the morning, we’ll hit the lake first, then . . . “The Lab.”

But before tomorrow, it was a short session on Strength and Mobility from our friends over at Innate Performance. Steven and Louisa have both run and coached Division I cross country. Steven ran through some great exercises to keep the hip flexors loose and said most endurance athletes aren’t over-trained, they are under-recovered. With that he went through ways to recover properly and gave us his top three: Sleep, mobility, and nutrition. That’s when Louisa gave campers some top line nutrition strategies to stay on top of this crazy game we call triathlon.

Great session, but now it’s around 3:30 and getting back to the East Side was going to be a nightmare. My roommates punched my address into Google Maps, but I calmly said, “I’ll take this one, boys,” and led them on a perfectly executed re-route that not only saved us time, it allowed for a concise exploration of the fascinating explosion we affectionately call downtown Nashville. The guys were very impressed with my navigation.

Around 5 o’clock, reminiscent of senior citizens, my house guests, Chuck, Ross, and Jason started getting cranky for food. I quickly put on my post-afternoon-nap-happy-face and we jumped in the car for a trendy little Mexican joint called RosePepper. I’d like to say we got wild and met a lot of crazy hipsters that showed us the nightlife around East Nashville, but instead we debated the reasons why Nashville is home for so many bachelorette parties why people don’t fall off the shelf more often at Top Golf.

We got home around 8:00 and I was ready to yuck it up with my new sorta college buddy roommates, but these guys were all business. After about 30 minutes of watching baseball, we all went to bed and I listened to old episodes of the Crushing Iron podcast to put me to sleep . . . but it didn’t work. In fact, I found them captivating, inspirational, and extremely motivating. I could not wait to get to the lake in the morning and shoot more video of people working their ass off!

To be continued . . . 

Attitude is King – Camp ReCap Podcast

Have you been thinking about an Ironman, half or any kind of triathlon, but don’t know how to start, please consider us for coaching. We’ve been through most every situation regarding this sport, including starting from scratch. We’ve also taken athletes from their “stuck point” and helped get them on the Ironman podium. We love working with beginners and athletes that want to push it to the next level. Check out our coaching page for more information, including philosophy and pricing.

All 170 podcast can be found on iTunes or on our podcast page.

You can always support The Crushing Iron podcast by making a small pledge here.

 

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Regret As Motivation

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

Now that I’m signed up for Ironman Louisville, my mind is back in overdrive, and on my ride today, I had a thought . . .

What would I die for?

It crossed my mind because often when I ride by (or through) meandering families on the bike path, occasionally “the dad” gives me the “don’t fuck with my family” eye. Today a “dad glare” made me shiver.

I wasn’t riding fast and slowed down further because his three kids were blocking the entire path. I gave dad a nice smile but he looked at me like he would prefer throwing me and my bike in the river.

Now, maybe I’m projecting, but it’s pretty common. I’m wondering, are these guys really that tough, or are they just willing to die for their kids if some guy in lycra with shaved legs on a bicycle puts the fear of God in them?

Are we only willing to die for others? Or are we willing to die for ourselves?

Our own love? Our own freedom, experiences, or passions?

Last night I was listening to the Joe Rogan podcast and his guest, Christopher Ryan, told a story of getting stung by a scorpion in the jungle. A few minutes later he ran into a local who told him that scorpion was lethal. Ryan recoiled and genuinely thought he was facing his own death . . . soon.

He staggered through the darkness for help, certain he was about to die. A couple hours later he made it to a rundown home in the jungle, and through a conversation in broken English discovered he wasn’t stung by the lethal scorpion, but another kind without the potent dose.

It was during those two hours he claimed to find complete contentment with his life . . . and death. He’d traveled, experienced life, women, and song. He was “okay” with dying, but felt bad for family and friends.

Fortunately, he lived to tell the story of his own death.

Using Fear And Regret

On some level, I think I would have died for Ironman in the beginning. I pushed my body to limits it had never been seen. I “felt” like I was dying a few times, but it was sort of that “manageable death.”

During that Rogan podcast they also mentioned an article Joe had written for Maxim explaining why working out is like building a sand castle.  Essentially, you take time, spend effort, focus and love creating this thing that you know will eventually be gone. And that is the key point. You understand, always, that you will die.

That’s a bit morose, but it’s really a good motivator if you accept it. Death is coming, and nothing is more painful than regret.

Life Without A Phone

So, as someone without kids, am I willing to die for lack of regret?

I can sit here today and say, yes. But the reality is, I am still human and . . . I am afraid.

Sometimes I’m afraid of the simplest things like walking my dog late at night. Why? Because somehow, the idea has gotten into my head that all kinds of bad things can happen out there. People will jump you, cars will run you off the road, starving stray dogs will attack. Where does this shit come from?

Two days ago I ordered a Lyft home from the auto mechanic. I had reservations about getting in the car when it showed up because behind tinted windows was a guy, and the driver photo on my app was of woman. But it was daytime and I only lived 2 miles away, what could go wrong? His car smelled like weed and we almost got side-swiped, but other than that . . .

He dropped me off and everything was fine, until I couldn’t find my phone.

I went to iCloud to “find my phone” and it was halfway across town. I tried communicating with Lyft and had a short email exchange that claimed the driver didn’t have it. It was lighting up on the map in his car, but whatever.

I was a little freaked out at first, but did a quick inventory of everything I’d “lose,” and did a virtual erase before ordering an upgrade.

These two days without a phone have been a wake up call. I can’t tell you how many times I have reached for it or thought about texting someone or engaging my mind in some worthless stimulation.

The first day was flat out bizarre. I felt like a victim, alone, and depressed.

I thought I’d get the phone on Day 2, but Verizon screwed that up and I had no choice but to accept that I was off the grid again.

A funny thing happened that second day without a phone. I was starting to do stuff without thinking. Crazy shit, like taking an old rug into the driveway, pouring soap on it, and scrubbing out stains.

I hauled sticks and limbs out to the curb. Scratched paint spills off floors. Organized my garage.

Occasionally I entered a confusing gray zone. I’d sort of look around for something to do next, then start walking “toward my phone” in the other room. When I remembered it wasn’t there, I would vacuum the stairs instead.

I also noticed I didn’t get tired doing all of these things. Typically I will kick back on the couch or in bed and doodle on my phone, eventually falling asleep for a nap. No nap, or even a thought of a nap happened.

It’s a short sample, but it is natural confirmation for something I have suspected for years. Phones can literally suck the life out of you.

When you don’t have a phone for idle entertainment, you have to create something to do and this action gives you energy. Even something as simple as checking Facebook on an actual computer feels different. You are chained to a location and your natural instinct is to get up and move after a while. But with a phone, you are ALWAYS ON.

I can’t tell you how fucked up (and embarrassing) it is to say that when I lost my phone it felt like a part of me had died. A streak of hopelessness flooded my brain. Ironically, it wasn’t as bad as I would have imagined it because I think my phone has helped create a certain level of numbness in my brain and body which helped me get past the panic.

Building Our Sand Castle

People will criticize you for training for an Ironman. They will say you are crazy.

But we have to keep building our sand castle.

I’m now looking at my phone as water and wind. External elements trying to destroy my work in progress. Squashing the art. Doing its best to leave me with regret.

This may seem dramatic, but just think about how much time we waste on our phones. Think about all the dreams and goals washing away as we surf through endless streams of thoughts distracting us from our missions.

I am not giving up my phone, but I am taking action against its powers of seduction. My new phone won’t be used for activity, but to find activity. My new phone won’t be used to idly communicate but to find real communication. It will be used for its best qualities, not to suppress my path.

Filling A Void

As I was writing this, my new phone showed up and I’m walking through the set up process. I feel that attachment and don’t like it. What have I missed? What can I explore? Where is all the information on my old phone?

Does any of this matter? Is my phone really a source of exploration?

Opening that phone box gave me this strange feeling of relief. It was like I’d been starving for two days and finally found food. But I hadn’t hunted or worked for anything. I simply pushed a few buttons on my laptop and it was delivered.

The First Big Test

I am now writing post trip to Ironman 70.3 Texas. Robbie and I drove down for the race and stayed with one of our athletes who was also doing the race. My phone experience was mainly for work, but I felt this bizarre sense of paranoia the whole time. Like I was going to lose my phone.

Somewhere on the trip it occurred to me that phone’s add an entire new dimension to our existence. Like another limb or head on our body that we could lose at any time because it isn’t attached. Panic driven moments when you pat your pocket and it’s not there. Where did it go!?!

It’s really kind of pathetic and has me leaning even more into simplicity. I wanted to put the phone in my luggage and forget about it for the entire 12 hour drive, but it was not even an option. It felt impossible, but as Ironman likes to say, Anything is Possible, so maybe, just maybe, I will be able to lessen my attachment to the phone.

I’d hate to regret it.

Update: It’s been a couple months since I wrote this piece and things have slowly returned to normal. I’m re-connected to my phone and it’s distracting me like it always has.

Last night I listened to an interview with Sam Harris and he was talking about this same dilemma and how social media literally creates an alternative universe in our minds. I can tell you as an older gentleman, there is not enough real estate for another universe in this brain.

It has me thinking about this concept of “back in my day things were different.” How that has always been the case with life. Everyone’s father had it different and harder, etc. And while it was true on some level, I wonder if today is the first time this case may have a real argument?

The internet has only been around about 20 years. It has changed things in a massive way. I feel like the last big change was the early 1900’s with the popularization of mass production. The internet is far more invasive and in its infancy. We don’t even realize how much technology, phones, and apps have or will impact us.

Everyone talks about how Steve Jobs changed the world. How he did all these great things for humanity, but as someone put it in simple terms, “Steve Jobs has created a whole generation of phone starers.”

I realize this is a me problem, but how do you get out of this cycle? How do I get back to the basics of tactile living? Touching the earth, looking in people’s eyes, having real conversation that matters.

We all just plod along like sheep and download the next app, the next source of distraction. Some do it with grace and the best intentions. I’m not sure that’s me. I genuinely hate when I sit around and randomly open apps to “see what’s going on.” One after another I click to stimulate, often when I should be shutting down to sleep.

It’s definitely not the old days when entertainment meant putting on a football helmet in the living room as an 8 year old kid and dad holding up a couch cushion while I slammed into him like a blocking sled.

Happy Father’s Day. Give me a call sometime.

Have you been thinking about an Ironman, half or any kind of triathlon, but don’t know how to start, please consider us for coaching. We’ve been through most every situation regarding this sport, including starting from scratch. We’ve also taken athletes from their “stuck point” and helped get them on the Ironman podium. We love working with beginners and athletes that want to push it to the next level. Check out our coaching page for more information, including philosophy and pricing.

All 170 podcast can be found on iTunes or on our podcast page.

You can always support The Crushing Iron podcast by making a small pledge here.

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The Decision Behind “The Decision 2018”

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

As many of you saw on Facebook Live Friday June 5th at Noon CST, I have decided to once again tackle Ironman Louisville this year. It’s the second year in a row I will be running past Churchill Downs and the third time overall.

(If you can’t see the Facebook link, please join our closed group by searching “Crushing Iron Group”)

This race has had my number.

The first time was back in the August days and Coach Robbie and I experienced the wrath of running an Ironman marathon in 98 degree heat with no shade. It nearly broke my soul, but I finished in what is my slowest Ironman time to date.

Last year it was in October and nearly a polar opposite experience. From the opening cannon the wind was fierce and I remember looking at the river on the last few miles of that bike and seeing white caps. It was also “cold” but that wasn’t the problem. It was the run.

Something about that flat run gets me good. Louisville owns both of my worst run times and that’s more than a little puzzling because it’s supposed to be the “easiest” run course of the three.

Sadly, I don’t think I even wrote about it, which is another thing that is starting to change with me. Writing is absolutely my best weapon for this sport. It clears the air and most importantly helps me remember the little things.

But . . . back to the Decision 2018.

One of the main reasons I decided (honestly 20 minutes before the announcement) to do a Full again is because I didn’t have a good reason NOT to do one. Training for Ironman changed my life back when I was 49 and I don’t want to lose the momentum of what’s been built.

I’m doing it because I CAN.

Another reason is simply wrapped up in the concept of doing something hard. We can easily get caught up in the idea that relaxing means be lazy and lounge around. I do it all the time. But relaxing in its best definition means clearing the mind and doing things that you love. That make you feel better.

Admittedly, some of the training makes me feel like shit, but most of the time I love heading out on a run or a ride. For the days that suck, see “do something hard, so the other things in life are easy.”

I’m doing it because It’s HARD.

Finally, it’s just a big part of who I am now. It’s easy to think the best thing for me is to back off and gather my bearings. But sometimes I just think that’s feeling sorry. Sorry that I actually have to LIVE. That’s a sticky piece of real estate for the mind to live in.

I think back to a blog I wrote about my mom while training for my first Ironman. It is honestly one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned in life and I try to remember it every time I fade back into taking the easy way out by doing nothing.

I’m doing it because it makes me feel ALIVE.

After I made the decision on Facebook Live, Coach Robbie made a simple comment: “Good decision. Now go for a run.”

That’s exactly what I did, and while out there in the sweltering heat I remembered a very important part of training that gave me relief as I turn my mind back into the full Ironman mode. I truly think it will help me to enjoy training more, and ultimately help me race better.

Running Slow To Get Fast

My Running Woes

First off, let me acknowledge that I can be misguided at times, oh, like how I convinced myself before IM 70.3 Chattanooga that I was going to bike like a madman and take my chances on the run. Well, it didn’t work.

Going into IM Louisville, it has to be largely about the run for me. I’ve rarely performed well after T2 and I really want that to happen. I think actually my best run ever was IM Chattanooga. It was by far the hardest and I ran my customary 4:20ish.

While it’s not overly fast, as I think back, that was probably the best run shape I’ve been in before an Ironman. For sure I’d put out some of my longest runs. I also remember enjoying it more after I got in shape for it . . . So . . . . . . . . .

The Beauty in Running Slow

After today’s Decision, the first thing I did was go out for a run. It was one o’clock in the afternoon, 93 degrees, and sunny. I said to myself . . . oh, what a wonderful world. Actually, I didn’t say that at all, I said, just go take a nice little hour long run and try to finish feeling like you could keep going. Take it slow, Mike!

So, what did I do? I went out slow. And about a mile in, I looked at my pace. 9:00/min miles.

I’m convinced that nine minute miles are my natural cadence. So, for the first 3 or 4 miles, 9 minutes seems right in the wheel house. Nine is normal, even easy. I will find myself creeping into the 8:30 without thinking much, like today, but that’s when running starts to get hard. Especially when it’s hot.

We did a podcast called “Running Slow To Get Fast” and while I think our podcasts are gold, sometimes things don’t click with me. But today, that’s when I think I figured it out.

The 10/17 Run

My problem is impatience. Even today when I thought I was running for time, an hour was the target, I got to the halfway point at 38 minutes. Since it was a turnaround, I was basically screwed.

I did what I always do, turned up the speed to get done faster, but I was really struggling. I stopped once to cool down and hydrate in the shade. Then I thought, what if I slowed way down to a 10 minute pace and if I ever got lower, I had to walk until I’m at a 17 minute pace?

The Power of Patience

That means the dilemma is, if you go too fast, you have to slow down even more, elongating an already long run. It happened twice over the last 25 minutes and, frankly, it was awesome.

It dawned on me that a 9 minute pace is natural without effort, but if I’m not strong enough to hold that pace it doesn’t really matter how “fast” I am. Slow running is harder and builds the durability muscles. Strengthens the frame. That’s what I need.

For the next month or so I’m really going to try and slow it down. Build the chassis as coach calls it. Then see if I can move the speed. But even then, I have my doubts because how fast will I really go during a full Ironman? It’s better to be durable and strong.

Thanks for the support!

Here’s Our Crushing Iron Podcast on Ironman Louisville Course Strategy

Have YOU been thinking about an Ironman, half or any kind of triathlon, but don’t know how to start, please consider us for coaching. We’ve been through most every situation regarding this sport, including starting from scratch. We’ve also taken athletes from their “stuck point” and helped get them on the Ironman podium. We love working with beginners and athletes that want to push it to the next level. Check out our coaching page for more information, including philosophy and pricing.

All 170 podcast can be found on iTunes or on our podcast page.

You can always support The Crushing Iron podcast by making a small pledge here.

 

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New Triathlon Camp Video – Nashville, Tennessee 2018

Crushing Iron puts on several Triathlon camps a year and these are highlights from April, 2018 in Nashville, Tennessee. We had nearly 20 athletes in town and they all came with a great attitude ready to work. Hear their feedback on camp and see highlights from Natchez Trace, Percy Priest Lake at Anderson Beach, and the abandoned airfield we lovingly call “The Lab.”

If you’d like more information on camps or coaching please click and don’t forget to check out the Crushing Iron Podcast released every Monday and Thursday. Motivation, Information, and Good ole fashioned rambling.

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Is The Finish Line Enough? The Decision To Do An Ironman – Day 6

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

I can remember the last mile of every Ironman like it was yesterday. No matter how much I’ve struggled, the energy of the finish sweeps it all away and a very long road coming to a close.

It’s truly a spiritual moment. The struggle, the pain, the re-birth. The emotion, the crowd, and ultimate relief take me to a higher place.

When you hit that Ironman carpet about 100 yards from the finish line, the aches, pains, and all your problems wash away and seem to bring in a wave of pure gratitude. Hopefully you have friends to hug and smile with because it makes that moment twice as meaningful.

The question becomes: Is that enough? Is that feeling you get at the finish line worth all the work?

In some ways I think it is. How can it be wrong? I mean, it’s an amazing feat that built for months. Those lonely days under the hot sun like for me today. As weird as it is, I find pride in stuff like that. I even asked myself, “Who on earth does something like this?” Who runs on an old abandoned airport runway in 94 degrees with your shoes melting on the blacktop? I guess I do, and those are the little things you do when no one is watching that add up to greatness.

Yes, today was a rough but pretty solid day. I love training when it’s hot and or raining or anything with rough weather. My goal is to see how I feel with extended periods on my legs. I’ve been blading hard to warm up, then running off the wheels to see if I can get my legs feeling like they actually want to go through this.

All told, today was about a 55 minute blade followed by a 40 minute run. I really don’t know how blading stacks up but it definitely gives me leg fatigue and it seems to help my running balance. I’m certainly more relaxed and found a nice cruising speed at around 8:30 a few times, which gives me optimism considering the heat and torturously long straightaways.

I’d say I’m still about the same with regard to my decision, though running out here reminds me of the long, lonely, never ending straightaways of Louisville, so that race lost a little bit of love from me today. The following chart pretty much sums up not much change from yesterday.

 

My first in Wisconsin was easily the most emotional and stressful because in a state of confusion I thought my sub-12 hour race went out the window. I actually started walking for 3 or 4 steps, but thankfully found the resolve to keep running in hopes that I had simply missed seeing Mile Marker 25.

The next year at Louisville I was beaten into the ground. The “feels like” temperature was well over 100 for the run and I had all but imploded. Somehow I found the energy to run the last 3 miles and it was easily my biggest Ironman struggle. Fourth Street Live lifted me to the end, but it was a brutal day.

 

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The Swimmer’s Mindset – Thinking Right To Get Faster

In the latest of our “How To Not Suck At Swimming” video series, C26 Coach, Robbie Bruce, shares one of the most important things a swimmer can understand: How to use the water to your advantage. Coach explains how this simple shift in mindset can help you get faster and more efficient in open water. It also helps build the foundation for all improvements that follow. Swimming video is from our May Swim Camp.

If you’d like to take your swimming to the next level, check out the C26 Custom Swim Analysis. Coach Robbie will break down your stroke and explain all the ways you can get rid of wasted energy, build confidence in your stroke, and become far more efficient, which leads to less anxiety and more enjoyment.

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The Decision To Race Ironman – Countdown Day 7

By Mike Tarrolly for Crushing Iron

The time has come for me to make a decision about doing an Ironman this year. I did Ironman 70.3 Chattanooga 3 weeks ago and still have the fitness to turn it up, but how bad do I want it?

My decision to make “The Decision” came on the heels of a powerful podcast about “Finding and Keeping Your Why.” It was generated in large part by our athletes who contributed many good reasons, but one of the main things on my mind these days is doing something hard because it changes you.

This would be my 6th Ironman in as many years and there is a big part of me that would like to keep that streak alive. It’s not everything, but it’s certainly an accomplishment and if I want to do something very hard once a year, I don’t know what else that would be now. 

I’ve narrowed my choices to three races: Wisconsin, Louisville, and Chattanooga. There are many reasons, but mainly it’s because I’m familiar, they are all convenient and solid downtown locations, and I’ll have many friends at each.

I’ve decided to start this exploration with a list of pros and cons for each race.

PROS

Ironman Wisconsin 

  • My favorite course
  • Unbelievable crowd support
  • One of my favorite cities in the world
  • Close to parents and where I grew up (post-race cottage)
  • Wisconsin weather in September

Ironman Louisville

  • Easy to get to
  • I love the city
  • Friends to stay with on Thursday and Monday
  • Cool temps/wetsuit swim
  • Finish Line (but I think Wisconsin is better)

Chattanooga 

  • Easy to get to
  • I love the city
  • Tough Run Course
  • Only done it once (others twice)
  • Great fan support on the run course

CONS

Ironman Wisconsin 

  • Long Drive (Though I’ll be there either way)
  • No more mass start swim
  • Most expensive hotels
  • Toughest Swim
  • Toughest bike

Ironman Louisville 

  • The flat run course has been brutal to me both times
  • Very tough bike
  • Long walk from Finish to transition
  • Could be pretty cold

Ironman Chattanooga

  • Tough Run
  • Temps have been very hot last two years
  • It’s already my Ironman PR course
  • Little Debbie logo on shirts 🙂

The other option, of course, is no long course race at all. 

Pros of NOT racing a Full

  • I’ll bank many hours of training time
  • Less of a life burden hanging over me
  • Possibly more energy for other things
  • Home Improvements are more likely
  • Lawn mowed is more likely

Cons of not Racing a Full

  • I could go down a bad road of health and fitness
  • I won’t have something to shoot for that keeps me on point
  • Possibly less energy for other things
  • Less fodder for Crushing Iron and the podcast
  • Regret

This week will be a serious time of reflection, and I’m honestly trying to keep all options equally open. The key element (as you will see in these detailed graphs) is that, if anything, I am probably leaning a little bit toward racing vs. not. 

It’s really going to come down to how I feel after some consistent working out. The biggest goal I have is to run a solid marathon. So for the next week (It started a few days ago) I will continue to put time on my legs. Maybe not long runs, but consistent runs off the roller blades and bike. Yes, I said roller blades, which can honestly be given most of the credit for why I’m even considering a Full. They are my go-to exercise when I’m not feeling like doing anything else and they have reminded me how good they are for the core, balance, and general “feeling good” after a workout. I’ve been working out in the hottest part of the day and loving it, so all signs are good at the moment, but at my age, things can change quickly.

Thanks for checking in.

Have YOU been thinking about an Ironman, half or any kind of triathlon, but don’t know how to start, please consider us for coaching. We’ve been through most every situation regarding this sport, including starting from scratch. We’ve also taken athletes from their “stuck point” and helped get them on the Ironman podium. We love working with beginners and athletes that want to push it to the next level. Check out our coaching page for more information, including philosophy and pricing.

All 170 podcast can be found on iTunes or on our podcast page.

You can always support The Crushing Iron podcast by making a small pledge here.