Category: swimming

Posted on

Swimming with Little Old Ladies

I am really hoping I transform into a butterfly of the mornings but it is a major challenge.  It doesn’t help that while I’m still lying in bed, 3/5ths of the Ironman Wisconsin team is Sweatin’ to the Oldies at the East Nashville YMCA (otherwise known as Margaret Maddox YMCA . . . which I plan to start calling it in hopes of creating even more confusion and randomness in my life).

I did eventually get to the pool by 7 am, which is pretty damn impressive, but my training buddies were DONE by 6:15.  I eagerly shared my lane with a snappy little old lady and the entire time imagined it was Margaret Maddox.  This seemed to help my production, and I worried the brute force of my stroke may actually splash her out of the pool, which would have certainly put my membership in jeopardy.

But Margaret was a pro and blazed her own trail.  Cutting through violent waves with the precision of a seasoned quilter . . . just like you would imagine anyone having a YMCA named after them would.

Adding to the curious Margaret-dynamic was that the guy in the lane next to us was absolutely crushing his stroke.  It was loud–bordering on obnoxious–and he was flying!  This was truly some Tarzan shit and more than once I peered creepily under the water to steal his secrets.  But there were no secrets.  He was simply overpowering the water like a fan boat in the Everglades and it was all I could do to keep from overturning onto my beloved Margaret.  I did, however, notice he couldn’t keep that gorilla-like stroke for more than a couple laps.

Speaking of gorillas, later today, I plan to post a scintillating story that re-caps my first trail run, the Peaceful Hill Sasquatch Trot.  The tale promises to be replete with struggle, passion, fear, scenery, monsters, injury and roadkill, but unfortunately no Margaret’s.

Posted on

Hot Yoga Virgin

Until last night at 8:15 pm CST, I was a hot yoga virgin.  And while I didn’t have the same remorse I did after my first sexual experience, it was every bit as awkward.

In my defense, there is nothing quite as twisted as a yoga instructor starting class by spearing your left ankle with a two minute tree pose.  I was a aging oak in the middle of a tornado.  Bending sideways and tripping over its own roots.

I am trying to let go of judging yoga teachers, but I’ve had a hard time ever since my last instructor thought he would shit-can the ocean soundtrack for his falsetto.  We’re literally in proud warrior and he is belting out Sinatra.  A little Madonna with your sun salutation?  And for an encore, let me present Kenny Chesney as you slither into child’s pose.

I was a mess and walked away from the quest for a quiet mind and peaceful heart.  Until last night.

I survived the premature tree pose and (considering I am a tight-assed-hamstring kinda guy) settled into a decent groove.  The mirror reflected my weakness as I spied the room full of women owning their poses.  I shrugged off vertigo and fought through half moon.  Sweat blurred my vision and the heat vent dried tears before they moistened my cheeks.  But, like they tell you, I stayed with the pose.

I imagined relaxing as I pierced the rough waves off the beach at Kona.  The sun shined as I soaked in the scenic 112 miles of rolling hills in Lake Placid.  And I hummed along in meditation for a 26.2 mile run through the University of Wisconsin campus.  I am, after all, an Ironman virgin as well.

Posted on

Mind Over Matter

I have never had a knee problem before, but last weekend I ran in Percy Warner Park and that could have been a big mistake.  I have gotten used to running through little aches and pains, but this felt like a scurry of squirrels had found some choice meat on the side of my leg.

Since I am the KING of self diagnosis, I started wondering if it had something to do with the slope of the road.  I was running around to the left and my right leg was on a lower plane the whole way.  It wasn’t bugging me on the uphills, but coming down put me in that happy-crazy-survival-mode like the guy who convinces himself he’s having fun even though he’s lost in the dark and getting chased by wild boars.  When I got the the bottom and regained sanity I thought, damn, I hurt this knee on the downhills.  As it turns out, I was right on both accounts.

Injuries are funny.  I have probably heard 100 people mention their IT Band.  It never sunk in.

Even a friend of mine who runs Percy Warner all the time said he loves running there but it’s hard on his knees.  Why didn’t I hear these warnings?  It’s like a little kid who has to burn his hand on the stove before he believes it.

I limped around Saturday and most of Sunday before I started to believe my running career was over.  Hyper-aging to the point where I even looked in the mirror a few times and thought “I really do look like my Grandpa.”

On Sunday and Tuesday I swam 35 minutes, then ran about 4 miles with the East Nasties on Wednesday.  The knee actually didn’t feel too bad, but after the run I did walk up on two dudes locked in a very “breathy” tongue-frenzy next to my car when I went to get my wallet for pizza.

Today, I was nearly committed to my Wisconsin Badger ban, but elected to DVR the game (and spend much less time watching) while I went for a short, flat run on the Greenway.  You know, just a little jog to see how it feels.

Nine miles later I was once again cussing myself for another glorious knee throb.  It honestly wasn’t too bad until I started mowing my lawn, but let me tell you I might as well have been dragging a plow through that backyard.  I was literally almost crying and this time it wasn’t because of the mole destruction.

So . . . I bought a foam roller and have been doing that, but I think the real trick is to stay out of my running shoes for a few weeks.  There is no way I want to hit January with tender knees and ankles.  If you need me I will be in the pool or posturing like Gandhi in one of Nashville’s fine yoga studios.

Posted on

Why Not You?

I’m finally reading Born to Run, which is an otherworldly story about a mysterious tribe of super- centered and super-human athletes nestled in remote caves of Mexico.  They’re called Tarahumara (the Running People) and routinely run for dozens or hundreds of miles in the course of a normal day.  It is their lifestyle.  Children run free as soon as they leave the cradle, adults run for fun, ritual, and competition, and elderly Tarahumara continue this tradition late into life.

In Chapter 6 they referenced a 90 year old man who commonly hikes 20 plus miles into the mountains.  The writer asked another tribesman how a man of his age could complete such feats of strength and endurance?  In true Tarahumara fashion the man simply said, “Because no one told him he couldn’t.”

I once heard someone say “Florida is God’s waiting room,” and while it made me laugh, I always thought it was sad.  Sure, we get old, but I’ve never liked our culture’s view of aging.  Why do we settle for a pension, rocking chair and a handed down afghan while watching re-runs of I Love Lucy? (Well, besides the fact they are hilarious!?!)

My father has never been the healthiest of men and, in many ways, has succumbed to the myth of aging, but I have always admired his passion for being a good golfer.  In fact, because I don’t see him often, that’s how I gauge his health.  He can still hit the ball as far as me and routinely scores in the 70’s as he approaches that age.  More importantly, he does it often.

Like many people I have casually thrown the phrase, “It sucks to get old,” but never wanted to accept it.  Ache has always been a part of my life and in youth you simply play through the pain.  I’d drag myself back to shortstop and embrace the next challenge.  The body always adapted and found its way back to “normal.”

In January I attempted to run as an endurance exercise for the first time in my life.  I wasn’t sure I had the patience to stick with the “slow build” Couch to 5k program, but, for once was determined to follow the rules.  There were many days I didn’t want to go, but I dragged myself to NRC and met the group.  There were other times when I felt good on an off day and wanted to test my limits, but resisted.  I stayed on course and credit that program for everything I have done since.

The more we do something, the more it brands our fiber.  It becomes natural like running is to the Tarahumara.  Whether it is writing, reading, photography, dancing, swimming, biking, running; we can do it if we create a good base and develop habits.

The Tarahumara seem super human, but for them, running is easy.  It’s kinda like lounging in a recliner to us.  Running People don’t design spread sheets or sit through webinars, but they do make sales calls (in person) and drink corn beer like it’s a treat from God.  My guess is, to them, posturing in an ergonomic chair and staring at a computer screen sounds harder than running 100 miles.  It’s what we do that makes a difference.

So, I have set my sights on the “impossible.”  A 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike, followed by a full marathon.  The marathon alone (on my best day), will be 240 of those first day sixty-second-runs in succession.  The bike ride will take at least 6 hours.  The swim is the equivalent of 42 lengths of a football field.  But, like the elderly man, if I believe it, who’s to say I can’t?

Posted on

Crushing 1/2 Iron

As I limped around the house today, Jim and Daniel were in Augusta laying down personal bests in a Half Iron.  Jim’s flowing hair crossed the finish line at 5:27 and Daniel’s bouncy locks (in his first 1/2) dropped in at 5:31.  Needless to say, they and I are pumped.

Jim said the conditions were perfect and the course was “easy” but I say anytime you power your own body for 70.3 miles over 5 and a half hours, your accomplishment is legit.  That said, I’m starting to understand where he’s coming from.  And even Daniel said, “I had no idea my body would be able to hit some of those splits.”

The capability of the body is truly mind blowing.  I have always trusted its ability to heal and go the another inning or quarter or round, but never have I understood the literal interpretation of going the extra “mile.”

What starts with 60 second running intervals quickly turns into 5 minutes, then 10, then 20, 30, etc. If you would have told me I would EVER run for two straight hours and finish a 1/2 marathon, I would have called the loony bin.  That seemed so impossible, I can barely put it into words, but the question is why?  I watched Country Music Marathons for 6 straight years, even made videos for a few, and for some reason it never dawned on me that I TOO could do what many overweight, un-athletic, and even very old people were doing.  Running 13.1 or 26.2 miles.

There had always been a disconnect with running (and let me tell you that running was the entire piece of any triathlon puzzle for me).  It always seemed so hard (and still does) to me, but building slowly and being a part of a group tricked me.  I have always been athletic and while I never saw myself as a runner, tons of others did.  I started to believe.

I was off to the races, literally.  I kept putting another challenge in my sights and kept hitting those targets.  Each time my confidence grew and while the 1/2 marathon was quite a quest, it wasn’t until I did my first Sprint Tri that I felt like I belonged.  Total time was nearly an hour less than the my 1/2, but it was the combination of events and the strength of how I finished that made me stand up and take note of what was going on.  I just did the seemingly impossible and not only was I not tired, I felt great.

That said, the Olympic Distance intimidated me, mainly because of the swim.  And since I’ve rehashed this a bunch of times, the very fact that I completed the swim, carried 20 mph on the bike, and finished the 10k without pain gave me enough confidence to sign up for Ironman Wisconsin.

They say write it and it will come true.  And while I’m quite sure these stories will bore the fuzz off of many lips, I have to keep going.  Looking ahead at new targets.  Why do we do that?  I think it’s more than because we can, it’s because if we’re not growing, we’re dying.

Today’s Diet:
Breakfast – 2 cups of strong ass coffee from Barista Parlor, scrambled eggs, 2 sausage patties, french toast, water at Mitchell’s Deli
Dinner – Grilled fish, steamed spinach, pickle, too much bread!

* Injury Update:  I iced my knee for the whole Wisconsin/Nebraska game last night and considering the outcome, I should have been icing my head.  The knee is still a little tender, but I will likely take at least a week off from running and focus on yoga, upper body and core work, along with swimming.

Posted on

Ironman Wisconsin in Perspective

When putting an Ironman in perspective, it may help to use landmarks and other interesting analogies to get you over the hump.  It seems like an intimidating task and merely 3 months ago I would have laughed at the thought.  But after finishing an Olympic triathlon I started to believe.  Granted, it’s roughly a quarter of the distance, but feeling your body move through the seemingly impossible gives you a great boost.

Ironman Wisconsin starts and finishes in Madison, but I thought it would be fun to breakdown the distances in another way.  Let’s start with the swim.

I’m a huge Badger fan and I got to thinking about what it would be like if they installed a one lane lap pool along the sidelines at Camp Randall stadium.  In essence, while you’re sitting in the stands,  sneaking hits of Whiskey from your flask and watching the Badgers beat up on Ohio State, you could track me real-time as I blasted back and forth for 42 lengths of the football field then back to the 24 yard line before stripping from my wetsuit to an ear shattering ovation after swimming 4,224 yards.  If things were going right, I’d be done by halftime and unfortunately miss “Jump Around” at the end of the 3rd Quarter.

Then I’d have one of the Badger trainers pull my bike from the tunnel and tear out of Camp Randall on my way to I-90, heading south toward my hometown of Beloit, and home away from home, Rockford, IL.  I’d wave to old friends at the Flying J truck stop and more fans as I screamed past the famous Clock Tower Resort on my way to O’Hare Airport.  I’d actually stop about 21 miles short of O’Hare, but magically be transplanted to the runway with zero exertion of energy.  One of the many fine baggage handlers would deliver my transition bag, let me change in the break room, and I’d be back on the road with fresh Yankz in my Pearl Izumis.

The run would wind right through the energy of downtown Chicago.  I would admire the skyline for miles before I was actually under it, then look up at the buildings and get dizzy as usual.  After I hit downtown, I would turn up the pace and roll through Cabrini Green completely unnoticed because pale white guys run through the area at will.  As darkness fell I would be winding through the notorious South Side with no more than Gu for ammunition and my sights clearly focused on the finish line at Midway Airport.

So there you have it.  Visualization is a powerful tool.  When you have perspective, mountains don’t seem as tall, oceans aren’t as deep, and Ironman’s aren’t as daunting.  But to be honest, I’m not sure this exercise has helped.

Race name : Ironman Wisconsin
Date : 9/8/2013
Address : Madison, Wisconsin
Country : United States
Race type : Triathlon (Full Ironman)
Organization : World Triathlon Corporation
Website : http://www.ironmanwisconsin.com/
Description Swim 4224 yards   Bike 112 miles   Run 26.2 miles
Taking place in Madison, the race features over 45,000 spectators lining the course through Wisconsin farm land and downtown streets of Madison. The finish line is the most recognizable of all the US Ironman events; it is located in front of the Wisconsin state capitol in the heart of Madison.
Posted on

"You Are An Ironman" the Book

I’ve been reading Jacques Steinberg’s book “You Are An Ironman” for the last few weeks before I go to bed.  He follows 6 triathletes for about a year as they train for Ironman Arizona.  It took me a few nights to get into the read because it seemed a bit big-wordy and journalistic rather than conversational (yes, I’m a bit lazy and shallow), but now I am immersed in the characters and am finding tons of motivation and training fodder.

Some of my biggest questions right now are things like when and where should you do other races while training for an Ironman.  I think it’s obvious to do a 1/2 Iron when you’ve worked up to those distances in your plan, but what about the other stuff?  Like right now, I am genuinely still building myself as an endurance athlete and debating whether or not I should do the Huntsville Marathon on December 8th.

My furthest run to date was my first 1/2 marathon (2:14) back in April (after starting running in January).  Since then I have consistently popped off 2-3 runs a week ranging from 3-8 miles and feel pretty good about any of those distances.  In fact, I’m pretty sure I could do a 1/2 in under 2 hours right now.  But a marathon will surely squeeze my bones and muscles like nothing I’ve ever done and I’m wondering whether or not I should push the envelope right now.  The last thing I want to do is lose my enthusiasm, which I feel I’ve built by staying within myself.  But I guess doing a marathon is no different than saying you’re going to do an Ironman, you just have to get ready.  I think my plan is to run a hilly half distance (using the infamous Flying Monkey course) this weekend and make my decision.

The other thing I really like about “You Are An Ironman” is the training decisions these athletes are making.  One of the women has a strategy of always running after the bike.  Even if it’s a mile or two.  If you’ve ever done a “brick” (running after biking) you know how strange it can feel and there has to be something for getting used to it.  As hard as the practice sounds, I am going to do my best to add that routine.

I’m also amazed at the amount of swimming they do.  I love swimming, but the process of getting in the water is a little annoying at times.  Especially if you’re talking about open water swims and having some kind of support while you flail your way into the middle of a lake.  After doing an Olympic, I realize how far I have to go on the swim.  If nothing else, just to feel relaxed and comfortable in the water at the start.  I literally could not catch my breath for the first 10 minutes, and that is not a good feeling when you’re in a rushing river with waves crashing down your throat.

So, tonight I will run with One Hilly 5K with the East Nasties, then talk with a couple of the guys training for Wisconsin about their 1/2 Iron this weekend in Augusta.  Thursday, I’ll get back in the pool, then Saturday run half of the Flying Monkey to make up my mind about Huntsville.

Today’s Diet (so far)
Breakfast – Protein Shake, Coffee, bagel with cream cheese

Ehh… I know.  it’s gonna take time!

Posted on

Trying To Understand Swimming

You just stroke, then breathe and it never leaves a bad taste like masturbation.

Swimming is the perfect escape and reconnection.  A body made of water flowing through itself.  I have yet to find an exercise more invigorating.

Tonight I knocked out a mile in 35 minutes or so and that is not gonna cut it.  I suppose it would help if I actually knew how to swim, but I can’t seem to figure it out on my own.

Making matters worse was the woman in the next lane teaching her little girl how to swim. The woman didn’t really look like a swimmer, but she was throwing around a lot of “thumbs first” and “keep hands away from face” kinda stuff, and my end-of-lane-breaks were couched with that “acting like I wasn’t listening look” but I was definitely listening.

I’ve watched a bunch of videos and read books, newsletters, encyclopedias, Twitter posts, and DVR’d the Olympics, but I can’t quite tell which of my growing array of styles is faster.  It doesn’t help that I can’t see the second hand on the clock because I’m getting old and blind (maybe I need to cut back on the masturbation).

Anyway, if anyone has swimming advice, I’m all ears.

Today’s Diet
Breakfast:  Protein Shake, Two cups of coffee
Snack: Fiber bar
Lunch: Two pieces of fried cod, french fries, unsweet tea
Snack: Chips, green tea
Pre-swim: Orange juice, blueberry, strawberry, banana smoothie (blender)
Dinner: Kale, broccoli, carrot, apple, ginger (in juicer)
* I’m sure I’ll ad something else solid to this day.  Likely a can of tuna and a few pickles.

Summary:  This is not the most impressive diet-day, but I’m not avoiding my cravings and they are naturally fading away.  It’s pretty sweet to see the change and not have to depend on willpower.