The more I swim, the more I fall in love with being in the water, and that is going to be huge when the cannon goes off in Wisconsin and nearly 3,000 other racers jet off for the same buoy. You can watch video all day, but I don’t think there’s any way to understand how that will feel. A mosh pit of epic proportions with the added bonus of deep water.
This video gives some pretty cool tips for open water swims and I must say the most intriguing part is drafting. It seems like it would take a shit-ton of practice to feel comfortable on someone’s feet or their hip. Either way, there’s some interesting stuff in here (and yes, coach, you have already told us a lot of this, but it’s great to see the video . . . hint).
I know what you’re thinking. What is Mike doing to launch “Mental Health Week” in Ironman training? Let me tell you, that is a great question with some titillating answers.
RACK TIME
For one, I’m going to rest. I’ll likely get in the pool a couple times for light swims and run on Wednesday with the East Nasty crew, but for the most part, I’m taking pressure off my legs. I can feel a subtle “tiredness” lurking and it will be great to get a little spring back.
THE WORLD’S WORST CHEF
I’ll also be tweaking my diet. Over the past couple months I have been working out around two hours a day and consequently eating everything that flies by my face. I kinda think I know what it feels like to be my dog. I mean, if there’s fuel to be had, I am consuming it to the point where I’m licking pasta sauce off my plate like a little kid, then following up with a major pickle binge. Nothing is off limits, including the snack bar at work, and this week, I hope to zero in on a more nutrient packed philosophy that doesn’t include time-crunched sell-out trips to Wendy’s.
NO HAPPY ENDINGS
Seems to me a mental health week wouldn’t be complete unless you dropped a massage or two in the middle. I should really practice what I preach and get this body rubbed at least twice a month. There’s no doubt the foam roller works wonders, but human hands can turn these muscles into pliable jelly that responds like a new born baby’s skin. And I’m not really sure what that means, but think you get the point.
STRIKE A POSE
Along that lines, I will certainly be cracking open my yoga books again. I can sense a lack of flexibility creeping into my body and I am not really cool with this new trend. Yoga has always lived on the periphery of my life, but it needs to be more of a center piece and peace of my center.
FUELED BY BARLEY
I will also likely drink a ton of beer. Nah . . . that’s unlikely, but I will encourage some of my teammates to pound them like fish at the East Nashville Beer festival this Saturday, which is the day before our first Sprint Tri of the year on Sunday. And yes, I do realize this could come back to haunt me do to the “body numb factor” and fearless racing behavior that tends to shine the morning after a bunch of beers. This is especially true when mileage or heat isn’t a big concern. In other words, I am not going to let them use beer fest as a crutch, in fact, I think it gives them an advantage!
MORE BUKOWSKI THAN BURROUGHS
I’ll also do a lot of writing. I’ve known for years that you can write something into reality if you focus on it long enough. I’ve written my goals down for years, then will spend time “soul searching” in journals to figure out how I am going to bring those targets into fruition. It’s amazing, but eventually an answer will surface and suddenly you “understand.” And isn’t that the key to eliminating fear and confusion?
MOVE TOWARD STILLNESS
Meditation can also help. Nothing like shutting off the noise to help you cut through the clutter of life. I know one thing for certain. If I’m sitting at the start line and I’m worried about any number of stupid things that will pop into my head, I am not at my best. There is simply no room for distraction in a race. I mean, sure, you can say hi and talk or whatever, but I find it much more productive if you’re focused. Or, as my coach likes to say, “Hurry slowly.” These kinds of mindsets are easier when you consistently practice meditation and a calm mind.
SEE IT, BELIEVE IT
I will visualize myself in these races. I will “see” myself breaking through new time barriers in my mind. Speed happens naturally, but it can be enhanced if you believe you can move your body at certain paces. It’s like running with faster runners, but you don’t really have to run with them, because some of them can be dicks and this way you just run along with them while you lay on the coach. Frankly, it’s easier, and some of those fast runners just don’t really like talking to me about all this nonsense, so it’s a win/win.
If you’re having trouble with the “visualization process” you may want to look at this video I made to help drummers stay focused and in the groove.
BE A GOOD PERSON
And lastly, I will be connecting with friends. I actually try to listen to what they’re saying instead of being preoccupied with the infamous Monogetti run lingering over my work day. I may actually stroll along a babbling brook or take my dog for more walks instead of letting her loose at the dog park. I may actually buy presents for people in my life. Sweet gifts like writing journals and running socks. Even take them out to dinner at I Dream of Weenie or the Turnip Truck.
Then again, I don’t want to get carried away, I mean it’s only one week.
Well, yesterday, I noticed a cryptic post on our Crushing Iron Facebook page from our coach that simply said, “Totally forgot to mention that Coach is doing this race with you guys. Sorry. Totally slipped my mind.” Since it was so random I assumed he meant the sprint triathlon we’re doing next Sunday. Nope. All of this time, he was holding in a secret. Coach Robbie will be racing with us at Ironman Wisconsin!
My head spun a bit, then I had three reactions:
1. This dude can keep a secret!
2. Who will give me guidance and encouragement on the course?
3. I guess I will have to publicly humiliate my own coach
We’ve known all along that he would be in Madison on that fateful day as the Fab 5 scurries through the water in Lake Monona, but I’d always assumed he’d be stripping my wet suit and dishing out GU. Registration was full months ago, how could he hold that in? How will he bounce back from Ironman Louisville and tackle the farmlands of Wisconsin in two weeks? And I thought Racer K was enigmatic.
I didn’t really expect much coaching while on the course, and, if I don’t know what to do by race day, a Sergeant Carter type scream will do nothing for this lycra clad Gomer Pyle. Now, I picture his coaching on September 8th will be something along the lines of “Good luck, boys. I’ll catch you later,” as his shark-like swim techniques leave us in wake of seaweed.
Yes, he will be coming off an Ironman on August 25th and rebounding with another couple weeks of tapering. Does this make him ripe for picking off? Highly doubtful, but I know him well enough to know he’s throwing it out there as a challenge and one I will gladly accept. I’ll take anything that helps push me to my goal, which is . . . well, I’m not quite ready to reveal that one yet, but I don’t expect coach Robbie to lose any sleep.
The bottom line in all of this is . . . awesomeness. The more the merrier and I am looking forward to this experience more than ever. Our +1 Allison will be there as well, but if she surprises us with phantom entry to IMWI, I will be totally shocked. Say it’s true, Allison!
Our coach’s work will be done. It’s time for the players to execute. I anticipate dozens of people we know along the route and an entire army of cyber based Fab 6 supporters to push us up the hills and down State Street with energy we’ve never experienced. Good luck, coach. We’ll be gunning for you.
For as long as I can remember, I have been trying to change my perception of Monday. It never fails . . . Friday night relief, Saturday relax, Sunday peace . . . turned anxiety. What is that? It’s surely no way to live. And then I see stuff like this posted and am reminded that so many of us live our lives that way.
Somewhere along the lines we fell into this trap and believed that “doing the right thing” essentially meant doing “the wrong thing.” We always hear that life’s not easy and it takes hard work and we have to suffer to enjoy the fruits of our labor. Well, I’m here to tell myself I think that’s a load of BS.
When Loveboy first screamed “Everybody’s Working for the Weekend” I took a step back and said, “Damn, they are right!” I didn’t understand it then, and I certainly don’t understand it now. But we get trapped. We confuse life with work. We focus on getting more stuff so life will be easier, but that stuff often makes everything more complicated.
How will I buy this, or that, or buy my dream house?
In 2005 I bought a BMW and have more or less regretted it ever since. I didn’t buy it for me, I bought it because I thought my dad would think I was a big shot. We often talked about my future “success” and for some reason that car entered the conversation a lot. I literally walked into the dealership one day and made impulse buy at BMW.
What did it do for me?
Well, it tied up my finances for the next 6 years. I was constantly worried about scratches, dents and repairs. And, a good portion of the time, it has made me feel like a prick. But now I’m at a point where I have a dependable car and no payment. For some reason I feel better about driving it now.
It has taken me many years, but I’m finally getting a grip on “living within my means.” For years I lived for the weekend and it did nothing but overrun my life with financial and emotional pressure. Dying five days to live two makes no sense.
I am nowhere near cured of this generationally transmitted disease, but I am more aware. More aware of what’s important, and certainly more aware of what doesn’t matter. I have spent many years accumulating stuff I don’t need, pouring my energy into empty pursuits, and neglecting my true passions. My perspective is changing and it starts with paying attention to what’s really important.
I have blindly raced after everything society threw in my face, and worse, instigated those desires in others by selling fear, success and self-confidence in a bottle. It doesn’t happen that way.
There is nothing more potent than a gut feeling. For years I have ignored mine, but it has never been wrong. It steers me toward truth, and now, with the help of training and positive influence, I am trusting those instincts. I am once again, believing that Monday should be just like Saturday.
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.
Sometimes I’ll sit here watching Ironman Wisconsin videos and get chills. It’s surreal to think I will be on that course in seven months.
I can already see the eyes of the Fab Five as we enter the water, a symbolic beginning to the end of training. Five guys focused on the same goal for over 8 months – and it all comes down to this. Once the swim starts, I may not see them for the next 10 – 12 hours, but in many ways we’ll be connected as one.
Tonight, I am there. I hear the screams from hundreds perched on balconies overlooking the water. I hear the encouraging words of athletes floating around me. I hear the cannon explode, sending me into mystery.
I feel the water splashing in Lake Monona. . . the mass of humanity pounding me with no regard . . . the serenity of a place humans weren’t meant to go.
I feel the slippery shore as I exit the water . . . my bare feet slapping concrete as I climb the winding road to the top of the transition helix.
My ass hits the seat for the first of many times that day. My thighs burn as I roll through picturesque farmland. Cheering fans slap my back while they hug the narrow climb in Verona like a Tour de France.
The loop through Camp Randall stadium, home of my favorite football team, takes me back to players I idolized as a child. A gauntlet of familiar faces wave signs and give high fives as I recall college memories from State Street.
My ankles ache as I turn the final corner and feel the rush of the finish line. I glance at the majestic state capital, embrace the tunnel of fans, and culminate the biggest physical accomplishment of my life.
Four of the five Fab Five members showed up at 7:00 to ride the spin bike for an hour before spin class. I was the only one missing.
The training schedule called for a two hour bike followed by an easy 30 minute run, but since I’m listening to my body, I slept in a bit and got there at 8:00. I took a little shit for that maneuver, but the guys didn’t know what a traumatic experience I had in the pool last night (yes, this is what I do on Friday nights, swim).
I’m usually a little tight on Fridays from the workweek, so I stuck with my plan of a 300 yard breast stroke to loosen up, then complete the 2,000 yard light swim. Once again, I couldn’t find my stroke and it’s starting to piss me off. It’s like a perpetual level of mediocrity in the pool.
Somewhere around lap 16 I started to feel loose and settled into a nice pocket. I mean, I was ready to hammer the rest of this swim in gorgeous fashion.
I saw her out of the corner of my eye in the next lane. She was probably mid to late 30’s and swimming right with me for a few strokes, but two strokes later she was a body length in front. I kept repeating, stay on your stroke, keep cool. Then two body lengths, then three, then five and soon she was lapping me. I was crushed, but just couldn’t keep up.
I cursed my swimming and did my best to stay with her feet, but it was hopeless. I settled back in with my body and breathing. She stopped for a minute and I regained my composure. Now, I knew I was swimming faster and could hang on her next approach.
As I spun off the far wall, I saw her right behind me. I subtly kicked it up a notch to ward her advances, then saw her creeping up on my right again. I threw form to the wolves and hammered the water like a caveman. She was not touching the wall before me this time. I fought the waves and battled every pain in my body. Water flooded my mouth and I spit it in her direction like a heavyweight boxer. I would win!
My flailing only seemed to make her chuckle. She cruised through the water like a dolphin. A smooth ocean creature at piece with her environment watching as the land-dweller panicked. She flew by me like I wasn’t there and, it hurt more than normal because when she pulled away, I noticed she was doing the backstroke! This woman just pummeled my dreams from her easy-chair.
So, as I concluded my 1,500 yards (yeah, you caught me), I did what any competitive athlete in my shoes would do. I waited for her to stop and asked her for advice, which she happily gave and was instantly second-guessed on the first Youtube swimming video I watched later. It’s all so confusing to me.
With my swimming nightmare in the mirror, I staggered into our group bike with weak legs and low self esteem and as luck would have it, the spin instructor was a mid to late 30’s woman who proceeded to kick my ass on the bike. These women, I am telling you!
I stuck it out for an hour, then ran with the Fab Five minus 2 plus one (Allison) for 30 minutes in the rain. I’m guessing we were around a 10 minute mile pace and climbed some nice hills, but I felt very strong. Then, of course, I crushed breakfast.
The other day I posted about fellow Ironman Wisconsin teammate Daniel Hudgins and his quest to raise money for the homeless by using his controversial hair as bait. You could vote (by donating) to “save or shave” the hair and the tally came down to the wire in a tension filled finish! He raised over $3,000 dollars and all proceeds will be given to Room In The Inn. The excitement was captured in my latest video:
Well, last night was a first. Fellow Fab Five Ironman teammate, Daniel Hudgins, put his flowing mane on the line to help homeless folk get their lives back in order. Daniel had let his wig run wild for about a year and last night was the culmination of a fundraiser that generated over $3,000. The gist was for people to donate money so that he would keep or shave his hair. The tally went right down to the wire, but a last second check for $300 by our coach, Robbie Bruce, but the “shave” side over the edge. I was there with a camera and caught every drop of Daniel’s “nervous sweat” on video (a can’t miss thriller that will be posted later tonight). In the meantime, here’s the result.
Training Notes: This morning I rose with the crack of dawn to meet Kevin at the East Nashville YMCA for a leg workout. It was my first “official” Ironman Wisconsin workout of the year and I was astonished by two things:
1. people are actually up at that hour
2. how amazingly weak my legs are even though I have been swimming, biking, and running for the last year.
We did simple lunges, squats, leg presses, calf raises, box steps and the like and I could literally feel dozens of unused muscles at work. The workout left me humbled and amazingly optimistic because I really feel that strength training is going to make a major difference in triathlon results.
I weaved through fancy running machines at the Margaret Maddox YMCA with my eye out for flowing silver hair. It was the coldest night of the season and Jim said he wanted to run 8 miles on the treadmill. Eight miles, just 3 days after his marathon.
He wasn’t hard to spot and I circled around to wake him from the trance.
I said, “Hey.”
He said, “Hey man,” which was followed by an awkward pause while he tried to turn down his iPod.
I poised myself for confrontation.
In my best Kosmo Kramer impersonation, I screamed, “Look at you!”
“What?,” he replied while coasting along at a 9 minute pace.
“You’re snake bit!”
He smiled and said, “What do you mean?”
“Your not even thinking about Ironman! You’re addicted to marathons!
He was a kid who just got caught sneaking brownies off the top of the fridge.
“You may be right.”
I said, “What would Kevin think of this behavior?!?” (in reference to our fellow Ironman training partner).
Jim said, “He probably wouldn’t care.”
I just shook my head and said I’d see him after my swim.
These running people are crazy, and I’m not sure what it says about me . . . but I get it. Something about simply putting on shoes and getting after it is really quite scintillating.
Jim didn’t forget about Ironman, but he is totally smitten with the glory of marathons. And let me tell you, nothing gets a woman’s attention like salt piling up on your forehead while plodding down the road for 26.2 miles! I mean, it’s kinda the same attention you get from picking your nose, but hey, if it feels good, let it rip.
He didn’t qualify for Boston at Huntsville, so now he is all in on New Orleans, and I wouldn’t bet against him. This has just become personal and Jim has a reputation to keep.
But, let’s get back to me!
I did, in fact, go for a swim last night. I lollygagged through 1,500 yards and decided that since I am still into triathlons, I would jump on the spin bike. I peddled for 20 minutes and talked myself into ending the night with a nice little one-mile treadmill run. One solid hour of three disciplines and let me tell you, I feel like a million bucks today.
Tonight, it’s back to the road for a 4.5 miler with the East Nasties. I’m not sure if Jim’s running, but I can assure you I will be seriously contemplating dropping the 1/2 and signing up for the New Orleans full. After all, I kinda like the idea of qualifying for Boston myself.
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In other news, Ironman Wisconsin team member, Daniel, has a special announcement coming out soon. He came over last night for a top secret video project I hope to finish tonight so he can post on his blog.
