ironman training blog

September 3, 2014

The Most Beautiful Run Ever?

I’ve been recuperating. My first Ironman had me floating for a few weeks, this one dragged me through the mud.

A 350 meter swim was the only exercise I’ve had since the race . . . until today.

I’m in Wisconsin, and will be on the sidelines with my video camera for Ironman if anyone is looking. But today, I’m in Lake Geneva, potentially the best kept secret in the US.

It is absolutely beautiful and allegedly Al Capone’s weekend getaway spot. The homes on this lake are absolutely breathtaking and there is a public trail that runs through the backyard of each right along the lake.

I found out the trail, which goes the entire way around the lake is 21 miles long. There was a part of me (a very small part) that considered ripping off the whole deal, but part of the reason I came here was to get back in touch with moderation. I opted for about 5 miles.

Surprisingly, my legs felt alive as they glided across the crushed cinder, grass, dirt, and stone. There is ample shade, and nice little hills to keep you honest. There are roots and single tracks with overhanging trees, then perfectly manicured lawns that beg you to take off your shoes.

Let me tell you, this is one of those trails that screams, “Keep going!” Every corner offers a surprise and a stunning view of this picturesque lake. I simply can’t remember a more beautiful run in all of my runs. I may have to come back tomorrow.

If you’re convinced and have a couple million laying around, I’ve done some leg work for you.

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August 10, 2014

Another Exciting Challenge

“I like to talk about managing pain, and now I have another grand opportunity.” –Me

Have you ever quit your job, gone on your first freelance video shoot, slipped on a throw rug, and slammed your ribs into the corner of a hard wooden table two weeks before your Ironman? If not, I’m about to tell you how that feels.

Ever since the injury I have mainly been dealing with the pain of . . . breathing, which is a great problem to have when you’re heading into a 12-hour endurance event. The worst part is, it happened just as I was starting to feel good about the race.

I had been swimming every day (not long) and really dialing in my form. For kicks I swam the next day and had to stop at 400 meters.

It’s not excruciating pain, but a nuisance for sure. To make it worse, I tried a little jogging on Saturday and every time I landed it was irritating. So, we can add bruised rib to the strained Achilles/Plantar Fasciitis questions revolving around my run.

The good news: It happened at the start of my taper. Maybe it’s a spiritual sign. Maybe it’s a way for higher powers to hold me back and make sure I rest and recover.

I’ll take a little bike ride this afternoon and see how that goes, but find this to be an incredible test of patience.

On one hand I am sort of comfortable because I’ve always believed exercise should give you energy and not take it away. On the other, I have typically been the “cram all night for an exam” kinda guy.

But I believe preparing for months is always better than jamming it all into a few days. I have to trust the weeks, months, and last year have gotten me to a point where I am ready to cover 140.6. And honestly, I do believe that, but the question is always, “How well will I cover it?”

We’ll find out soon.

July 28, 2014

Ironman Is Only One Day

My “Countdown Meter” says 26 days, 19 hours, and 56 minutes. That can only mean one thing . . . Ironman Louisville is coming fast.

It also means, four Mondays from now I will have quite a different feeling in my body . . . and mind. Or will I?

If all goes as planned, I will have just covered 140.6 miles under a hot Louisville sun. I will have pushed myself to the limit and achieved something most never dream of, and . . . it will be over.

What happens the day before four Mondays from now will be directly related to how I handle the time between today and the race. The most important thing I can work on is . . . confidence.

Without faith, we are sunk.

There are many ways you can drum up belief in yourself, but for me, the best way is Nike’s model: Just Do It.

For the next 26 days, 19 hours, and 52 minutes I will be squeezing out doubt. Not by force, but by fueling my brain with stuff that builds confidence.

I will celebrate the victories and not dwell on the defeats. I will expect challenges and figure out plans to conquer them. I will face pain with courage and know that it doesn’t last forever.

Ironman is one day.

One day when we have no choice but to live in the moment and trust the accumulation of hours, days, and months of work. The effort on that day is all that matters and whatever effort I can summons, is enough.

More than anything, I want to go into that race clear. Free from distraction. Unobstructed by doubt. Ready to flow with what is.

And what is will be millions of mini-moments that happen whether we want them to or not. There is no more room for fear, worry, or doubt.

I will be there, and technically there is no different than here.

July 22, 2014

My Swim Coach Tied Me Up

I recently wrote about how I’m becoming a better swimmer, but apparently I have a ways to go.

After our warm up swim, my coach walked toward me shaking his head and said, “I’ve gotta get you to stop your hips from shifting around so much, and your head is coming too far out of the water when you breathe.”

Then he through me a race belt.

“Tie that around your ankles.”

Uhh…. okay.

So I wrapped the elastic band around my ankles, then hopped back into the water and started swimming. My legs immediately sank straight below me and I was cranking my arms at ridiculous speed to stay afloat.

I was in a mild state of panic, and of course, that is the last thing you want to experience as a swimmer. I struggled out to the buoy and held on for dear life before sucking it up to swim back in.

Not gonna lie, it wasn’t easy, but by the time I got close to shore I was much more relaxed. My stroke was longer and felt more powerful, which subsequently kept my legs and feet higher in the water.

Coach also told me that one eye should still be under the water when you breathe, which took me a while, but eventually I “sorta” got it down. I was also swallowing less water . . . which was nice.

In summary, this is a great way to work on body position and keeping yourself higher in the water. In fact, I loved it so much I’m thinking about trying it with a potato sack down at the YMCA.

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July 21, 2014

Finding Your Flow

Three things happened yesterday that reminded me that racing is all about finding, and keeping, your flow:

1. I was swimming in a 50 meter pool, relaxed and beautifully. It was my pace and something I felt I could hold and slowly build. Then, someone in the next lane swam up and started passing me. I lost my concentration and either consciously or subconsciously tried to keep up with them. I started breathing heavy and lost my flow. The swim was sunk.

2. I have been building back slowly because of a sore Achilles, and yesterday was time to stretch my run for the first time in a while. I felt good out of the gate and it set me free. After a couple miles, I thought, “I’m back!” I slowly picked up the pace, pushing to beat my imaginary competitors, and by mile 6, my Achilles was starting to scream. I had a solid run going, but pushed out of my comfort zone, and lost my flow. I was four miles from home and, instead of walking back, I decided to manage my pain by staying inside my box. Inside my limits. It turned out to be a tad painful, but I regathered my flow and it was a good lesson for how to stay in my zone.

3. After my run I wrapped my ankles in ice and watched the replay of Tour de France. Jack Bauer, from New Zealand, led from wire to wire. He spent nearly 5 hours in front of the pack. With 900 meters to go he had a 16 second lead and the race appeared to be his. But the Peloton, fronted by the world’s fastest sprinters was closing in . . . and Bauer felt the pressure. Even the announcers thought it was his race, but Bauer kept looking over his shoulder at the pending carnage. He kept looking back . . . again, and again, and again, his bike swaying back and forth instead of straight. Ten meters from the finish line, he was blown away by 9 other riders.

I’m not trying to pretend I know how to win a stage race, but it looked to me that Jack lost his flow. His mind was reacting to others instead of trusting what got him there. Protecting the lead instead of owning the win. It was a heartbreaking finish, and I wonder if the outcome would have been different if he just put his head down and found the fastest rider inside of himself.

It’s easy to lose track, and once again all of these things reminded me of something that is ultimately the secret to endurance, and frankly life. You will always have competitors, but the ultimate battle is always with yourself. Believe in what you do, and trust your flow.

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July 15, 2014

Why Are You Doing Ironman?

Seriously, why are you doing Ironman? To prove something? To be a better person? To be in a community? To post pictures in skin tight clothing?

I think it’s really important to understand or you can get caught up in the spectacle and make the entire process counterproductive.

This morning I was swimming in a lake at 6:15 am. It was overcast, sprinkling rain, and there were two other people in the water. It was desolate, peaceful, and once I started breathing right, incredibly rewarding.

It was all I could do to relax as I plowed through the choppy waves and passed the lonely buoys one by one. The day started as Ironman training, but morphed into a positive experience for my soul. 1500 yards later my bare feet walked through the sand and I toweled off.

It wasn’t about the distance, but I was intensely in tune with the motion. My brain and body felt measurably different at the end of that swim.

I continually tell myself it’s not about the race, but it’s hard not to make it about the race.

Ironman is a big and exciting event. You train because you want to perform. Your day is on the clock and you want to cross that line in the fewest amount of ticks. But, training for Ironman is a condensed example of why life should be about the journey.

Man, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to figure out my perfect pace and ultimate goal. It becomes consuming, agonizing, and packs pressure on your bones that doesn’t deserve to be there.

There’s no time for premature optimization in life. What are you doing today?

This is why I’m not a fan of goals. It’s one thing to have a target, but to obsess over goals is a waste. 40 or 60 or 100 days from now doesn’t matter. What matters, is today.

Living with right intention, right action, and right mind will carry you to the right place. If all we think about is a goal time, we lose the moment.

Training is training. It’s teaching your body to respond better to difficult situations. It’s slowly pushing your limits so you feel better and more alive.

Ironman isn’t our job, our family or our life. It’s a vehicle to get better at all three.

In the end, it is simply a stage on which we perform for one or two days a year. The reward ceremony at graduation.

By the time you toe the line, you have done the important stuff. You’ve done the work and regardless of what happens that day, if you truly believe in your effort, you can self-define yourself as an Ironman. Whatever that means.

PS. I wrote this for myself.

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June 17, 2014

Ironman Louisville?

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These were some thoughts I was having before I signed up for IM Louisville. Nothing amazing here, but interesting to see where I was with this decision about a month before I made it.

Memorial Day weekend, and time for a decision.

I have been stewing on this for months. Do I bring it back with Ironman Louisville or rest a year and sign up for Chattanooga or Wisconsin again?

Sometimes you have to write it out and that’s what I’m doing right now. As I look at that above paragraph it suddenly sounds stupid to do Wisconsin again before I try another race. I mean, I loved that race, but there is a major draw to Louisville.

It will be hard, hot, and painful. It will change my summer. It will force me to ride the Trace, which I love and hate. It will tease me every day. It will change how I make decisions. It will seep into my veins.

There’s a lot of things at play here, but the key variable is that I just don’t feel like racing for the sake of it. I don’t want to go there and be slower. I fight with that on several levels, especially when I’m trying to be more and more Zen in my lifestyle.

I did 11:58 at Wisconsin and if I sign up for Louisville, I would likely have a much loftier goal. With that, of course, comes pressure. Or not.

I just did an Olympic and it felt pretty awesome, but Ironman is 4 times that distance. Four.

August 15, 2013

Ironman Chattanooga: Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Okay, Wasky has called me out: Do I have the balls to sign up for my second Ironman before I even do my first?

I fear the answer is yes.

My Facebook feed and text messages have been exploding all day long with 100% commitments from nearly every triathlete I know in Nashville. I’m quite sure a survey would show at least 20 people who are in, and that is hard to resist.

We heard rumblings of Ironman Chattanooga a few weeks ago, but now it’s officially September 28, 2014. It’s also about an ironman bike distance away from my house. Is there any doubt?

It is the very first Ironman in Chattanooga. Training the course will be easy and often. Plus, I’ve never actually spent time there and hear great things about where the city is headed. Can I afford NOT to do it?

Plus (and this is a big one) it’s Racer K’s hometown. He’s coming to mine for IMWI, so I feel like I need to return the favor. And, I’ll get to see his mom again, which is always nice. Is it fate?

All that said, I would really like to wait until after Wisconsin to make the decision, but I fear it will sell out fast. It is a short jaunt for a huge portion of the population and I can’t imagine slots being open for more than a few days.

I also thought it would be cool to chill for a year after my first Ironman and follow my triathlon passion with a series of Olympics in cool towns where I could take a nice little vacation and not worry about training so hard. Ironman training has changed my life, but it is a major time sucker.

For now, my mind is occupied with the first Ironman. I can’t afford to get sidetracked thinking about number 2. But, Chattanooga registration just happens to be near the end of my taper, so I’ll likely be bored enough to do something crazy, like sign up.