A Disappointing Day, But This Isn't Over

I won't leave you in suspense until the end -- if you don't know already, I did not successfully complete the race.  The details are below, but I had a heartbreaking injury that prevented me from continuing on the bike course.  I am very disappointed, frustrated with myself, and just mad in general.  But I cannot deny that I had a wonderful weekend surrounded by great friends and that I had amazing support from friends and family at home.

Here's a summary of how the day went:

The Swim
The swim portion of the race consisted of two 1.2-mile loops in Mirror Lake.  You swim around the buoys, come out of the water, then go back in for your second lap.  I practiced my breathing and calmed my mind like I had done at Syracuse and had a very tranquil start.  And that's saying something amidst the VIOLENT swimmers around me who would just as soon swim on top of you than change their heading to avoid you.  Plus, there is a magical cable at the bottom of the lake that you can follow, limiting the need to pull your head out of the water to sight your trajectory.

The weather was not helpful.  It began to downpour at the end of loop one.  It was barely noticeable in the water, but then the thunder and lightning started.  FUN!  I tried not to think about it and hustled to my second loop, noticing that my time was actually much faster than I expected, even though I was going easy.

At the turnaround on the second loop, I took a breath to my right and noticed a familiar face next to me.  It was Greta!  What were the odds?  I hung with her for the return portion of the second loop and we came out of the water just a few seconds apart.  In fact, I was able to catch up with her in transition and give her a hug and good luck wishes.

The Transition
Ironman is a little bit different from other triathlons.  Usually, you are allowed to set up your "transition area," which is a little square of lawn next to your bike for you to deposit your shoes, gear, etc.  Ironman is much more organized and does not let you have a "transition area."  Instead, you put all your gear into five different bags (bike gear, run gear, bike special needs, run special needs, and morning clothes).  The gear and morning clothes bags are hung on racks in the transition area according to your race number; the other two special needs bags are put at the midway points of the bike and run courses for extra nutrition, spare socks, etc.

After exiting the swim, I ran to pick up my bike gear bag and headed to the women's changing tent.  The tent is basically full of a bunch of half-naked women and race volunteers in a flurry, trying to pull of wetsuits and help the racers get ready for the bike.  You know me, I am very particular about my stuff, so I nicely told the volunteer to basically leave me alone.  She recommended I have a seat and I politely refused -- Greta told me the seats get used as makeshift port-a-potties by some of the athletes. 

I changed clothes as quickly as possible, trying to stay dry, which was difficult because the rain was now coming down heavily and the tent, although covered, was flooding.  As soon as I was ready, I ran out, grabbed my bike off the rack, and set out on the bike course.

The First Bike Loop
The bike course consists of two 56-mile loops leading out of Lake Placid, through Wilmington, and then back up monstrous hills into town again.  Of course, in order to get out of Placid, you have to go down what is basically a death plummet, complete with winding turns and guardrails attempting to protect you from falling off a cliff into rocky river rapids.

Did I mention it was downpouring?

I went super slowly going down the hill.  Not only was the rain making the roads unsafe, but I was FREEZING for the first 90 minutes of the ride.  My teeth began to chatter and my hands were so numb that I lost the ability to use the left shifter.  For about 20 minutes of the ride, I was stuck in a single gear and just had to make it work.

Luckily, the miserable rain passed and the weather warmed.  My drenched clothes started to dry and I had a very enjoyable, strong ride.  Even the hills back into town weren't as challenging as I had remembered -- probably thanks to all the hill training I've been doing.

When I completed my first loop, I entered town again to cheering crowds and my friends yelling encouraging words at me.  I cannot describe the overwhelming happiness I had -- you feel like a superstar with such a warm welcome.  And I felt fantastic -- plenty of energy to burn.  I had fueled and watered according to my plan and it was paying off.  It was this moment when I knew I was going to complete the race. 

Disaster at the Second Bike Loop
After passing through town, the second loop began.  Although the route out of town is mostly the downhill death drop, you have to climb a few smaller hills to get there.  On one hill at about mile 58, another rider decided to pass me on the left.  As he did so, a third rider decided to illegally and very closely pass him on the left.  In reaction to that, the middle rider swerved towards me, and then I reacted by swerving my bike to the right.  It's a move I've done probably thousands of times before -- these things happen in road races -- but for some reason, my bike (complete with my clipped in feet) went to the right and my hips unfortunately didn't follow in time.  I felt my left knee twist and then the pain started.

At first it was tolerable -- I even felt like it might work itself out.  So I kept going and gritted through the discomfort.  At about mile 70 I knew something was really wrong.  The pain was getting progressively worse and the idea that I might be done for good was creeping into my head.  I stopped at the next aid station for medical assistance.  The medic there was well-meaning, but it was clear he didn't know how to tape up the knee to allow me to continue.  He wrapped it in a big bandage and sent me on my way.

I made it about five more miles, tried to re-wrap it myself, and then continued on.  Now the pain was even worse.  Every time I pulled my left knee up in the pedal stroke, I got shots of pain above and below my kneecap.  As I pressed on, the pain started to shoot up the middle of my thighbone as though someone had hit it with a mallet. 

I stopped at an aid station at about mile 80 to see if the medic there could re-wrap my knee...and hopefully he had some kinseology background.  A race volunteer told me there was no medic at that station, but he could call for someone to pick me up (which would disqualify me).  I said no and decided to try to make it to the next aid station.

The pain was getting so bad that some pedal strokes were actually bringing tears to my eyes.  It's kind of pathetic, but I actually unclipped my left foot from time to time and pedaled with one leg when the pain got really bad.  Then I clipped back in and tried to push a little more.  People whizzed by me on their bikes as my pace slowed to a crawl.

I approached a hill and stood up on the bike to climb it, and my left leg nearly gave out underneath me.  I unclipped and walked the bike up.  At the straightaway, I clipped back in and pedaled slowly.  At the next hill, I walked the bike up.  This pattern continued until I got to the Wilmington aid station, about mile 90.

There wasn't much that the medic could do except wrap my knee again -- this time in smiley-face tape for luck.  I fought back tears as I told him that I wasn't stopping.  They would have to pry me off the course.  He wished me luck and sent me on my way.

Unfortunately the tape didn't help.  I resumed my walk/ride strategy and managed to pass the mile 100 marker.  Soon, I had to walk the straightaways too.  I was alone on the road now and had a bad feeling.  In Ironman, there is a cutoff time when you have to complete certain parts of the course.  For the bike, you had to finish by 5:30 pm in order to be allowed to start the run.  It was almost 5 pm and I was about 10 miles out.  And it was all uphill.

The pickup van found me walking alongside the river with my bike.  As I learned the hard way, they don't wait until 5:30 pm to pull you.  They extrapolate how much you have left, your current pace, and whether you have any hope of finishing on time.  The ride back to the oval was very quiet, except for the radio chatter of other pickup vans pulling other riders off the course.  Every time I heard it happen, I knew exactly the devastation that rider was feeling.  Besides my knee, I felt amazing at mile 100.  My energy was good, my muscles weren't overly tired, and I felt strong aerobically.  I just couldn't put weight on the leg.  I can't describe what it feels like to know you could have finished something if not for one bad turn of luck that you couldn't control.

The Medical Tent
To add insult to injury, the van rides you in along the bike finish course, so I know what it would've looked like to complete that leg.  The medics rushed over to the van and put me in a wheelchair.  "Really?  We have to do this?" I said.  But they insisted due to liability reasons.

I have never, thankfully, been in a medical tent before.  But I can only describe it in the same way I would describe a battlefield triage unit from movies.  Lots of beds, hanging IV bags, and medics scurrying around.

I had a very nice nurse and orthopedist look after me.  I was asked if I knew my name and when I last peed.  I was asked a few more questions.  Then I was asked when I last peed, to which I responded, "Now you're just trying to see if I'm coherent.  Which I am, because you just asked me that."  That seemed to satisfy them.

The ortho couldn't find any major damage, thankfully.  No muscle or ligament tears.  From what she could see, I have a sprained MCL, which is apparently one of the more painful knee injuries you can get (yes, thanks doc, I did not know this).  And I made it exponentially worse by pushing on it for an additional 40-50 miles (yes thanks doc, I didn't know this either).

In the end, they allowed me to discharge myself with a fresh knee wrap, an ice pack, and a broken heart.  The very worst part was limping through the transition oval trying to gather my stuff, only to have race volunteers congratulate me on a race I hadn't finished.

The Aftermath
Naturally, I was devastated post-race.  And mad at myself.  Thankfully, I had great friends around me to keep me from wallowing too much in self-pity, and great support from friends who weren't there physically, but were with me in spirit.  My friend Greta had an amazing race and can now call herself an Iron-woman.  Watching her finish was amazing and inspiring.

I am still very emotional about it, but I decided the only way I can reconcile my disappointment is to try again next year.  I am already registered for Lake Placid 2015 (signed up as soon as I got home) and plan on giving myself a whole year to train.  So whatever my finish time would have been this year, I will DESTROY it next year.

I enter my training knowing three things:

1. Had it not been for my injury, I know I was strong enough to complete this year's race.  With that training foundation, plus another year's worth, I will be unstoppable next year.
2. If I can push through the most painful injury I've ever had for 40-50 miles, Ironman will seem like nothing.
3. I have amazing friends and family who do nothing but send me love and support.

Thank you for hanging with me up until the end of this journey.  I wish there was a happier ending, but I guess this isn't an ending at all.  There will be a new blog for the next Iron adventure next year.

Final Week

This week has been a rough one -- lots of highs and lows to navigate.  I'm getting the typical pre-race jitters that all the Ironman training books and blogs prepare you for -- doubts about your training, fixating on how hard the course will be, etc.  I am continually reminding myself of all the work I've put in this year and that I will just do my best on race day.

This race seemed like a much better idea last year.  Now that it's one week away, I'm wondering what I was thinking.  But like I said, these thoughts are normal.

Another thing I'm finding is...what do I do with all this spare time?  It feels weird to have a pool workout that takes less than 40 minutes when I'm used to staring at the bottom of the pool for up to 90 minutes.  I've been able to allocate more time towards work, which is good because work seems to be treading more and more into my free time.  Oh, and I've rediscovered Netflix.  How I have missed you!

Looking forward to the moment when I cross the finish line.  I still have to wait another week, but I have a feeling all of this will have been worth it in the end.  I'll be sure to post my race info closer to the date so you can track me as I do my tortoise-like crawl across the course.

Approaching the Home Stretch

Two weeks until race day.  The hardest thing right now is trying to set my mind at ease knowing that I am as prepared as I possibly can be.  Admittedly, the last month of training has been a challenge.  Things are picking up at work, and along with the untimely repair issues that had to be rectified, there was a greater strain placed on my free time.  I was not able to get in many long bike rides; however, I have been biking to work, town, etc. as much as possible, so my weekly mileage isn't really very different.  I just hope it works out in the end.

A helpful exercise has been to look at all the months and months (since January) of training I've done, and repeat to myself that a few weeks of abnormal training is not going to obliterate all the hard work I've done so far. 

Ironman is definitely achievable for anyone, but you must have and be willing to put in the time.  It is not like a 5K where anyone of a reasonable fitness level could show up race day and do it.  You have a responsibility to train appropriately, otherwise you could seriously hurt yourself.

This week my goal is just to stay active and keep my body moving.  No epic long workouts.  Actually, minimal gym time (how will I survive?  I will miss lifting heavy things...).  I'm just focusing on calisthenics (pushups, squats, etc.), commuter biking, running, and a few easy, short swims.  This is going to be like a mini-vacation actually.

All the hard, long workouts are over.  It's time to begin toning down the volume and resting up for race day.

Two More Weeks of Training...

I'm getting antsy and ready to be done with all the training.  My resolution to get more biking in last week had mixed success.  In a conspiracy against my best efforts, the universe decided to put the whammy on my AC at my job.  Making people exercise with no air conditioning is not a good plan.  So, I had to sacrifice training time to let in repairmen and be held captive for three days while they fixed the system. 

I came to a compromise -- I got up early and got in what training I could.  On my swim days, I did part of my workout, then went to work.  If I had time, I went back to the pool and did the rest of my workout.  And to get in the extra biking -- I started biking to and from work. 

I'm just trying to do what I can at this point.  And trying to put my faith in all the previous months of training.

Three More Training Weeks

I officially have three more weeks of hard training left, and then a glorious, glorious taper until Ironman.

Last weekend's race at Syracuse taught me that I need to focus on my bike fitness.  I am very happy with my swim and run fitness and how those have progressed over the past few months.  So I've decided to add short bike rides to my training, even on days when bikes are not scheduled.  Nothing crazy -- I don't want to break myself so close to the race.  But just short rides here and there to get in some more miles.

So the next four weeks will look like this:

• Week 1 = Bike-focused training
• Week 2 = Bike-focused training
• Week 3 = Normal training (begin reducing miles as week progresses)
• Week 4 = Taper for Ironman

It's going to be hard to fit everything in over the next two weeks, but I feel that I'll be ready for the race if I keep focused and get my training sessions in.  The challenge will be finding the delicate balance between what will improve my fitness for the race while not treading too far over the line of overtraining.  I will keep a close watch on my energy levels and adjust as needed.  I'd rather go into the race undertrained than overtrained.

Syracuse 70.3

Today I raced in Ironman Syracuse 70.3 (half-Ironman distance).  It was a good race to test the waters and see how my training is progressing so far.  This is my first "real" Ironman event (Ironman as the official sponsor -- I have a new car sticker on my car to prove it....and yes, there was room for yet another sticker).

There was a magic feeling to the whole thing as I checked in yesterday and racked my bike.  This was IRONMAN!  The infamous M-Dot logo was everywhere.  It was like arriving at Disneyworld for the first time.

Despite my excitement, I entered the race with a lot of apprehension, along with that "what am I doing?" thought floating through my mind.  I set my goal to do the race at Ironman pace -- easy -- never pushing too hard.

The swim was amazing.  The weather was perfect, the lake was calm, and I had probably the best swim of my life.  At the start, I almost always freak out a little bit.  My heart rate goes too high and it takes me a good 10 minutes to start settling into my pace.  Today, I took some deep breaths before the swim start and did the front crawl while keeping my head above water until the people around me thinned out a little.  I didn't experience any panicking at all.  I swam easy and, at the end of the 1.2 miles, I felt like I could keep going.  And I only missed my swim PR by about a minute, which was set during a race when I was swimming all out!

In contrast, the bike sucked.  And here is why.  First off, at about mile 6 or 7, there was a very nasty hill that wouldn't die.  As a result, since I am a spaz on my bike and can't balance right to reach for things while going uphill, I got behind on my nutrition.  By the time I got to mile 40, I began to feel like crap and wonder how in the world I was going to finish this race.  I began to doubt my fitness and my preparedness for Lake Placid.  And then I realized I had not eaten according to my plan.  Once I gobbled down some pretzels, Powerbar bites, and sports drink, it was like someone breathed life back into me and I felt fine again.

Secondly, I had to stop three times on the bike due to my stupid bike chain deciding it didn't want to shift from high to low gear, and protesting by slipping off the gear rings.  It is an easy fix, just a pain in the butt -- and you get grease EVERYWHERE (thank goodness for Wet Ones!  I keep them in my bike bag for such occasions).  And it made me very reluctant to shift out of high gear for the rest of the bike, so I had to work harder at times in a higher gear when I should have shifted down, rather than take my chances and have the chain slip again.

I finished the bike and was genuinely worried.  My legs were rubber.  It was hot.  And now I had to run 13.1 miles.  To my surprise, however, my legs went into robo-run mode and I felt like a rock star.  The run course was very hard -- definitely the hardest run course I've ever experienced in a triathlon, and on the list of my top three of any road races.  There were lots of hills -- including one hill that you HAD to walk up, the incline was so steep.  And then there were dangerous aspects that I didn't really like in the race -- such as patches of the run on green lawns full of divots and holes, just begging for an ankle to fall into.  And then there was the part when we had to run on the side of a hill, trying not to wrench our knees as we went.  I thought those aspects were actually irresponsible on the part of the course planners.  But that's just me venting.

I just felt good on the run.  And don't get me wrong, it wasn't my fastest run; the difficulty of the course accounted for that.  But I was strong and just let my feet go.  I had enough left at the end for a strong kick and sprint to the finish.

Overall, I feel good about my performance.  The course was hard.  And when I was done, I was glad to be done.  However, I finished strong and was not wrecked.  If I had to go further, I could have.  It would've been hard, but I could've done it.  So with a few more weeks of training, I think I am in good shape for Ironman.

Entering the Home Stretch

I just have a few more weeks of hard training left before I begin my taper for Ironman.  I am feeling pretty good overall.  I had to pull back a little bit over the past couple weeks to keep from burning out.  But now I can approach my peak training weeks with renewed vigor and motivation.

I've got Ironman Syracuse 70.3 this weekend, which will be a good tune-up race to check in on my training.  And it'll be fun to do a longer-course race.

Did I mention I can't wait until the taper???

Just a few more weeks left!

A New Day and New Attitude

Yesterday I had a great race -- probably the best triathlon I've ever done.  I did the Hudson Crossing sprint triathlon in Schuylerville.  Not only did I feel AMAZING the whole time, but I PR'ed on the course and shaved 5 minutes off of last year's time.  My 5K time was a little over 22 minutes -- which isn't too far from my old standalone 5K PR...and this was AFTER swimming and biking.

I am feeling very confident with my fitness level.  I am realizing that I need to stop worrying about pushing so hard and just stick to the mileage I need to do to be prepared.  I am eliminating "junk volume" from my plan in favor of more recovery time.  If you remember correctly, I took some rest time last week -- and it paid off for my race.

I have two more weeks of hard training, and then my tune-up race (Ironman Syracuse 70.3, a half-Iron distance)...and then the long-awaited taper.  It can't come soon enough.

But I feel ready.  I know Ironman will be hard regardless of how much training I do.  I need to begin enjoying the process and feeling confident about the work I've put in all year so far.

Check Myself Before I Wreck Myself

The effects of the Tour de Cure 100-mile ride didn't hit me Monday.  In fact, I went to the gym and performed my scheduled workout without issue.  The ride hit me on Tuesday.  My legs felt like lead and I knew it was in my best interest to take a recovery day.  Foam rolling, gentle stretching, but NO hard training.

I decided to try again on Wednesday and went to the gym.  I did my warm-up run, got halfway through my weights routine, and realized it just wasn't going to happen. 

This feeling was very different from the "I don't want to" whining I've been doing lately.  When I train, I like to call it "flipping the on switch."  You start off not wanting to do it (the switch is in the "off" position).  And then, after you begin the workout, you hit the moment when the "on" switch is flipped, and you're focused and driven, ready to push until the end.  Some people call this getting into "the zone."  I call it flipping the switch. 

There was no switch to flip yesterday.  Or rather, someone ripped the switch from the wall and there were dangly bits of ripped wires and shrapnel where the switch should have been.  I actually WANTED to train.  But I had no gas.  I could not push myself.  So, rather than risk injury, I bagged the workout and headed back to work.

Today I was able to do a little more, but I'm still taking it easy.  My legs are sore to the touch.  So I'm using this week as a recovery period, letting my body rest and get stronger, so I can return to my Ironman training next week.  I rationalized this by telling myself, in true personal-trainer fashion, that it's better to be under-prepared than over-trained...or worse, injured.  Plus, I'd rather rest and then hit it hard than hit it pathetically all week.  This should also recharge my batteries in time for the Hudson Crossing sprint triathlon on Sunday.

Just a few weeks of hard training left after this!

The 100-Mile Trial

So...this has been a rough week.  Both Ironman training and work took significant tolls on my time (Grand Opening preparations are nuts!).  The past four days, I've averaged about 4-5 hours of sleep per night in order to get everything done.

I had a wonderful race yesterday at the Charlton 5K.  Amazing weather and, as always, a wonderfully-planned and managed race.  I finally broke the 22:00 milestone with my time of 21:47!  And I felt GREAT.  The beginning felt easy and I had just enough left to kick hard at the end.

Right afterwards, I was working until about 9 pm and had to get up early this morning for the Tour de Cure 100-mile ride.

I will be honest.  I woke up this morning and did NOT want to do it.  I was (and still am) very tired.  I would never have blown this event off (particularly since friends and family donated money to support my ride), but I honestly considered cutting it short and opting for the 50-mile ride instead.

With this idea running through my head, I made a compromise with myself.  Here are the rules I made for today's ride:

1. No GPS watch.  No obsessing about pacing or mileage.  Only a regular watch to use for timing nutrition.
2. I am riding EASY.  Leisurely, even.
3. I can stop at any time to rest for as long as I want.
4. I can eat whatever I want within reason.  Food is an excellent motivator for me.  And the Tour de Cure's rest stops are chock full of goodies -- PB&J, energy bars, cranberry muffins, etc.  So I allowed myself to choose what seemed appetizing and eat it in appropriate quantities to fuel my performance (and not make me bloated).
5. If, after all of the above steps, I am still miserable, I can follow one of the shorter course's roadside arrows to cut the distance down.

I am pleased to announce that I completed the 100-miles successfully.  Not only that, I actually feel pretty good.   I finished faster than last year without pushing myself too hard at any time.  And it was an important learning experience for these reasons:

• I learned I am riding my long bike rides too fast.  By riding them VERY easy, I am just as strong at the end as I am at the start.
• I learned that I am not eating enough during training rides.  I have been having pretty miserable training rides lately -- which I now suspect was due to bonking.  By giving myself the freedom to eat at will, rather than according to a schedule, I felt much better and had more energy.
• I discovered my new favorite, AMAZING bike food -- Peanut Butter Pretzel Powerbars.  Like all good discoveries, this happened by complete accident.  My go-to bike fuel of choice is Peanut Butter flavor Powerbars.  I had some with me to fill the food gaps between rest stops, and I keep them in my bike pouch.  At one rest stop, as I was perusing the food choices, I saw pretzels, which I'd never tried before during a ride.  I ate one and it was the best pretzel I've ever tasted.  Taking that as a clue, I shoved a handful into my bike pouch with my Powerbar.  Well, today was hot, and the Powerbar melted a little and fused with the pretzels, so I had to eat both together.  OMG it was AMAZING.  I put pretzels on my shopping list to add to my training menu.
• MOST IMPORTANTLY, I gained much-needed confidence with my bike distance.  I completed 100-miles, and I still have several weeks of training ahead of me.  I feel much more comfortable with tackling the 112-mile Ironman bike course now.

With tired legs and a satisfied ego, I'm off to work.  I'm feeling pretty good right now -- I just have to make it through June and I'm home free!

Taking a "Vacation"

I've decided to take today off.  Many people would refer to this as what it really is in normal life -- a rest day.  However, to me, this is like a miniature vacation.

There has been a lot going on lately and my decision to do so was based out of concern for both physical burnout and my own sanity.  I decided to take a breather today and ban myself from anything resembling "work" (which I've been arguably successful at doing thus far).  No hard training (I did some yoga and mobility work...well, I couldn't just do NOTHING, could I?) and no business stuff.

Part of me feels guilty, like I'm a slacker.  And then there's the other part of me (yes, the rational, trainer part) that knows I need this in order to continue successful and motivated training.

This is the rub with being your own client.  As a trainer, you KNOW what you need to do.  As a client, you think you know better and want to do what you want anyway.  For today, I am listening to my inner trainer and relaxing.  Or at least doing my best at it.

Hard training resumes tomorrow -- along with the countdown!  Nine more weeks!!!

Meltdown Aftermath

Okay, so I might have had a teeny-tiny, eensie-weensie meltdown yesterday.  Just a culmination of a lot of stress, both good and bad, and the increasing demands of Ironman training.  Don't get me wrong, my points and emotions were valid.  But today I'm re-approaching things with a level head.

I am doing Ironman, so there is no getting around the training requirements.  So I pushed the reset button today.  I am no longer tracking my pace or times.  I am just getting the required mileage done.  If I have to go slower on some days (like yesterday because of the stupid friggin' wind that won't go away), that's the way it is.

I also reminded myself that I am very lucky to even be able to do something like this.  Some people CAN'T run, swim, or bike.  I am fortunate that I can even tackle this challenge.  Not only that, but I am fortunate for the improved health and fitness that working towards this goal has brought me.  I feel better now than I can ever remember, and it's because of consistent hard work and making healthy choices to support my training.

Today I had a great run.  The weather was perfect and I decided to enjoy being outside and taking in my surroundings.  I'll try to keep this positivity going throughout the rest of my training.

Why Did I Sign Up For This???????

The training sessions are getting long.  Very long.  Mind-numbingly long.  I'm beginning to feel as though Ironman is starting to take over my life.

My days consist of five activities only:

1. Working
2. Training
3. Eating
4. Peeing (all the time.  ALL THE TIME.)
5. Sleeping

This was a fun, meaningful pursuit just a few weeks ago.  Now it's beginning to feel like drudgery.  My brain was totally unmotivated during today's bike ride, despite the beautiful weather.  I feel like a kid in the backseat during a long car trip:  "Is it Ironman yet?  Is it Ironman yet?  Is it Ironman yet?"

I've got about seven more weeks of hard training left until the taper begins.  I cannot WAIT!  I am never friggin' doing this again.  And if I ever consider it in the future, remind me that I wrote this.

Off to do #3 above.

I Need Thicker Skin...Literally

Going into Ironman training, I wasn't naive enough to think that I would escape it without some kind of physical malady.  Mine has been surfacing over the past several weeks.  Pulled hamstring?  No.  ITB Syndrome?  No.  The dreaded Plantar Fasciitis???  Thank God NO!

Quite simply -- my skin has decided it doesn't like Ironman training and is going on strike.  And I'm not talking about the usual endurance-training skin afflictions.  I'm accustomed to raw patches, skin burns, blisters, and bruises.  In fact, I've become like a battlefield medic in terms of treating these minor injuries.

There are three brand new, more annoying issues that have reared their heads.  I am sharing, not for the sake of passing over the line of "Too Much Information" (or TMI), but to let others know that these things are (relatively) normal...so you don't freak out like I did and go on WebMD for five hours wondering what is wrong with you.

1. Saddle Sores - This is when your crotchal region decides it doesn't like having a bike seat jammed into it for three hours, and rebels by becoming raw and (if you're super lucky) developing painful abscesses.  The symptoms are walking bow-legged and crying because you have another bike ride tomorrow.  Unfortunately, there isn't much to do except keep them clean and pray they go away.
2. Blood Under the Heel - Very similar to a blister, this is when blood and fluid collect in an irritated spot on your foot.  In my case, my sock was bunched up at my heel while I was running and, rather than fixing it, I decided to ignore it and finish the run.  I was prepared to lance and clean the blister...however, the huge callous on my heel made the skin impervious to needles.  So now I have a nice little dark patch on my heel that I hope takes care of itself.  It doesn't hurt anymore, luckily.
3. Ripped Callouses - The good news is my strength has increased to the point where I can do about double my pullups, hanging ab exercises, and kettlebell work.  The bad news is that all of these require lots of grip strength, and the callouses on my palms have decided to start tearing apart after strenuous workouts.  Which is very painful.  And the Band-Aids won't stay on because of the location of the injury.  It's a whole thing.

Don't get me wrong, I'm lucky that none of these things are major problems.  But they are pretty friggin' annoying.  Hopefully my skin gets with the program soon and realizes it has to adapt to the training like the rest of me!

Halfway: 12 Weeks Down, 12 to Go

So I've reached the halfway point to Ironman.  And so, far I'm off to a good start.  I feel myself getting progressively stronger.  The workouts feel about the same level of difficulty each time, but my training mileage has increased substantially.

In addition, on a more personal level, I'm on track to being in the best shape of my life -- both performance-wise and aesthetically.  Since starting in January, I've dropped from 29.7% body fat to 20.9% measured today.  Quite a nice improvement!  And I feel so much better without the extra weight (about 14 lbs. of fat).

Here are a side-by-side photos of me in January (blue) and me today (orange).  I am only brave enough to post these now because I don't look like the January photo anymore.

I wish I could say there was one big key to this difference.  Like "Ironman" or "magic Paleo diet" or "special weight lifting secrets."  But honestly, it's consistency and focus.  I was training hard last year too, but did not put as much consistency and focus into my nutrition or my training plan, so I wasn't in the same shape as I'm in now.  This year I am tackling both with diligence and intelligence.  And the results speak for themselves.

In light of my progress, I've added a new, more personal goal to my Ironman adventure.  I'd like to get back down to 17% body fat, which is the amount I had when I was in the best shape of my life (visually).  I think I can get there with consistent effort.

Potter Road is the Devil

There is a road in West Glenville/Charlton that can make you cry, and its name is Potter Road.  My friend and triathlon training buddy Greta first introduced me to this road last season during a bike ride.  I am usually pretty wussy when I ride and do my best to avoid hill work.  However, Greta is very good about pushing me outside of my comfort zone.

"We're doing a good one today," she'd said, adding that she liked to use it for hill repeats.  I knew it was going to be bad.

The first indicator was that the route to GET TO Potter Road was entirely uphill.  Fun.  And then the hill began.  I had to come out of the saddle early, huffing and puffing to the top.  But I managed to get up.  When I caught up with Greta, I said, "Yeah, that was tough, but I did it!"

"That wasn't the hill."

And she wasn't kidding.  The "real" hill was a swear-word inducing, thigh-burning, heave-your-body-into-each-pedalstroke mess.  I BARELY reached the top, thinking my heart was going to burst out of my chest from beating so hard.  It was quite a reality check for me.

After that day, I added the Potter Road hill to my mid-week bike rides.  I was swearing so much each time I rode it that I'm sure the Potter Road residents knew me as "that cycling girl with Tourette Syndrome."  But by the end of the season, I was notably better on hills.  Now, I use that route as a barometer on my overall leg strength and fitness.  The first time this season that I planned to tackle the hill was last week.  And...it just didn't happen.  I basically psyched myself out all the way there.  I built the hill up in my head as this gigantic obstacle that I wasn't yet fit enough to overcome.  I got within one block of Potter before turning back and picking a different route.

On this week's long ride, I was determined to conquer it.  I set my mind and headed out for Potter.  I told myself if the fake-out hill kicked my butt, I could turn around and pick another route.  But it didn't.  And neither did the real hill.  Sure, it was hard, but I did it -- and without as much strain as I thought there would be.

The lesson I learned is that a lot of this stuff is mental.  Last week, I took a defeatist attitude and couldn't accomplish my goal.  This week, I had a more positive approach and met the goal.  It's a good lesson to add to my racing toolbox.

The Toughest Workout Yet

Today was by far my most challenging workout this season.  A 42-mile bike, followed immediately by a 4.25-mile run.  It went pretty well, but it reminded me that, no matter how many hours you put into the indoor bike trainer, it is no substitute for biking outdoors.

I also learned that my legs were pretty much done after 42 miles.  So I need to be a little less aggressive with my mileage progression.  I scaled back my bike progression to just 5 miles added per week (about 20 mins).  I am not going to get as long a bike as I wanted in before the Tour de Cure 100-miler, but I would rather be under-trained than over-reach and risk injuring myself.  100 miles on the bike is going to suck, no matter how prepared I am.

The sunshine and temperature were great; however, I did have numerous bike gripes, which I will list here for your amusement:

1. The roads are in HORRIBLE shape.  The shoulders are full of holes, torn up, or crumbled away.  At one point, a car decided to ride right behind me and honk at me incessantly, even though the shoulder was eroded and I had nowhere to go.  Good times.
2. The road shoulders are full of debris.  Among the miscellaneous rocks, gravel, sand, mufflers, and sharp metal objects, I actually encountered a board with a nail in it.  If I was on The Simpsons, I could use it to fight off space aliens (anyone remember that episode?).
3. Some drivers are just buttholes.  On top of my encounter from #1 above, I was approaching a 4-way intersection with a traffic light and I was going straight.  I had the green light.  The oncoming car ahead of me was making a left turn.  Rather than let me have the right of way, he decided to peel out and turn in front of me...while I was in the intersection.  Thank you, brakes.
4. Wind.  I still hate you.  That is all.

 With the bike ride over, I went out for my brick run.  I was actually pretty pumped (well, as pumped as you can be after a 42-mile bike ride, realizing you still have more work ahead) because the weather is finally warm enough to break out my Xero Shoes, which are basically running sandals.  I enjoy minimalist running and have progressed to this over time.  If you like to run, you should definitely check out the book, "Born to Run."  However, I realize minimalism doesn't work for everybody.  But I love it!

The brick runs are just flat out hard at this point, both physically and mentally.  The first mile is the worst.  I wonder how in the world I am going to get through the whole thing.  Then I hit a turning point at about mile 3 when I start to feel good, and then I finish strong.  I just have to keep this in mind at my races, although it won't help me much during sprint-distance triathlons, when the run leg is over after 3.1 miles.  At least that last 0.1 mile will feel great!

I've had to adapt my nutritional strategy since last year.  For some reason, I can no longer tolerate sports drink during my runs.  It makes me nauseous.  I am okay with it on the bike, but I stick to energy gels and water on the runs.  I worry that I will encounter electrolyte deficiencies as my run mileage increases, so I may have to consider using salt tablets.  For now, I'll just see how my body reacts and tweak as needed.

That's all for now!  Time to go eat everything in the house.

It's Getting Real

I just entered my key training phase for Ironman this week.  If you've been reading this blog, you know that I'm following a customized version of Hansons' Marathon Method for my run training.  If you haven't been reading, it basically spreads your weekly run volume out over the week, rather than the traditional method of saving the bulk of your miles for a weekend long run.

You may think this sounds easier.  It's not.  What happens is, since you are running more frequently during the week, your legs are toast by long run day.  When you are running 10 miles, it's more like 16.  The longest you ever run in this program is 16 miles.  But it's meant to simulate the LAST 16 miles of a marathon, not the first.

In the book, the authors warn you that, during your build-up phase, the long runs will seem easy and you will be tempted to go faster than you should.  And they also warn you that if you don't tone them down, it will all catch up with you in a glorious long run blowout from hell.

That is what happened last week.  I was cruising along, feeling good, and then about two-thirds of the way in, I hit the wall.  Hard.  And limped home. 

Today I was a little smarter.  I had 10 miles slated for the day.  I went out smarter and held back for the first 5, going VERY slowly.  Then, for the final 5, I just let my body do what it wanted to do.  The result was much better.  I felt fatigued by mile 9.5, just in time for a nice cool-down jog.

So now I have to be much more mindful of my pacing.  I'll use the rule of thumb above from now on.  Hold back the first half, and then let go the second half.

I'm really enjoying the plan so far.  I feel stronger than ever.  My hope is that I finally finish a marathon without limping and taking walk breaks during the last hour.  I just want to finish feeling good.

It's Just Like... Riding a Bike

Due to a combination of utter disgust for the indoor spinner and the well-deserved break in the weather, last week was the first official "bike outside" week. 

I was relieved to find that the bike handling skills that I'd worked so hard to obtain were not lost over the winter.  I am a spaz on the bike and am always one blink away from falling over.  So activities like reaching for a water bottle, signaling turns, and taking bites of a PowerBar were challenging for me to master.  I made a concerted effort to at least perform them passably last year, and this year those skills are still intact.

I did learn a FUN lesson on Tuesday's inaugural ride:  mud + clipless pedals = foot-to-pedal glue.  I was going down the bike path and encountered a large mud patch (gee, wonder why... maybe the 20 feet of snow melting?).  It was the equivalent of quicksand, so I had to hop off the bike, carry the bike over the mud patch, and then clip back on.  In the process, my bike shoes and clips got a nice layer of mud on them.  So I clipped back into my pedals and, as I rode, the mud began to dry.  And harden.  As I approached the end of the bike path, I went to clip out.  Nothing happened.  CLIP OUT!  CLIP OUT! AHHHH!  Luckily, I was able to force my shoes free just in time to stop from ramming the bike path barrier.  And I managed not to tip over.

I went out again on Saturday...which ended up being a mistake.  Weather forecasters:  there is a difference between "windy" and "gale forces that will blow your mailbox into your neighbor's living room."  My friend and I started out, only to turn around 20 minutes into our ride when we both almost got BLOWN into a ditch.  But at least we tried!

Hopefully this week will keep getting warmer and warmer, and the rides will be less eventful.

I'm Allergic to Swimming

Oh, I wish that were the case in order to justify my turtle-like crawl across the water.  More specifically, though, I'm referring to being allergic to the pool.

I've diagnosed myself (who needs doctors?) as being allergic to pool chemicals.  Whenever I leave the pool, without fail, my sinuses congest and I turn into a sneezing, dripping mess who goes through a box of tissues like a premenstrual woman watching "Titanic."  If you've ever encountered me at the end of the day and it sounded like I was getting a cold, it was probably a swim day.

I made a mental note to bring up my reaction to the pool to my doctor at my upcoming checkup.  Maybe something can be done to alleviate my symptoms.

Then I watched a very interesting documentary on Netflix (yes, while I was on a spin to nowhere).  It's called "Food Matters" and I would highly recommend it.  The basis of the documentary is a discussion about the importance of high-quality nutrition and its role in preventing and, in some cases, reversing chronic disease.  Although some of it needs to be taken with a grain of salt (I mentally tuned out during the portion where the raw food advocate goes on a rant about the importance of colon cleanses), there were some great nuggets from the movie.

Some points I took to heart:

1. Nutritional studies are normally not a main focus in medical science and schooling.
2. Most medications treat symptoms, not root causes.
3. Healthy eating is not important because the foods are so potent; it's because our "traditional Western diets" are so lacking in the nutrients we need to perform optimally.  Hence, the high rate of illness in our society.
4. The pharmaceutical industry has a paradoxical relationship with treating disease. (No diseases = no money.)
5. When the body is healthy, it will naturally fight off many toxic invaders.  One expert even went so far to say that much of the traditional Western diet is seen as toxic to the body, so our bodies are in constant immune-system overdrive.

I could go on and on, but these points got me thinking about my pool reaction.  What will happen when I go to the doctor?  He will probably prescribe me pills that I don't want to take, that may not even work, and may have worse side effects than just dealing with my sinus issues.

Let's go another layer deep.  Why is my body reacting to the pool?  Why am I thinking something is "wrong" with me?

Maybe I am healthy, and my body is viewing the pool chemicals as toxic invaders that need to be ejected -- pronto.  Maybe my sinus issues are the equivalent of my white blood cells unleashing nuclear warfare on the pool chemicals so that they can't wreak further havoc on my body.

Or maybe this is all speculation.  After all, I'm no biologist.  But it is very interesting to think about.

In the end, I've decided to just deal with the sinus crap and go about my business.  It's tolerable -- just annoying.  I prefer a box of tissues to a bottle of mystery pills any day.

Eating for Ironman

I hate the word "diet."  The word comes with such negative associations and is often seen as a temporary state.  As in, "I'm going on a diet to lose 10 pounds...and then I'll go back to eating chicken wings and put it back on."

Many people (myself included) treat endurance sports as an excuse to eat WHATEVER they want at times.

"I can afford it, I just ran six miles." 

"Give me an extra slice of cake.  I think that last 10 miles on the bike made some room for it."

The thing I am realizing the more I do these events is yes, you may be able to eat extra calories, but WHAT you eat is much more important than HOW MUCH.

Yes, I might be able to get away with a donut.  But I feel like I'm running with a dozen of them strapped to my gut on the run the next day.  The more active you are, the more you pay for the decadent choices you make.

There is also irony too.  The cleaner you eat, the more you want to continue eating that way because of how good you feel.  At first, as you're cleaning up your diet, you think of it as an impossibility.  This thought ran through my mind right after Christmas.  "How am I going to say no to cookies?  I'm going to want to pig out every now and then."

At first it is sheer willpower that drives you.  But after a few weeks, something "clicks" inside and you don't even want to eat that junk.  You look at it as something that will only gunk up the works and interfere with all the amazing progress you're having.  A few cookies are not worth tanking your run the next day.  You begin looking beyond the immediate gratification of it and see the big picture.  The highs of progress and accomplishment outweigh those from sugar and comfort foods.

So I'm finding that my whole outlook is changing -- rather than limiting what I'm eating, I am taking a good look at WHAT I'm eating.  Rather than looking at what I need to cut back on, I'm looking at where I need to add quality calories as my training increases.

For example, I lost two pounds last week....of muscle.  Not good.  I weigh myself weekly and do my body fat percentage so I can stay on top of where gains and losses are coming from.  By losing muscle, I know that I need to eat more quality calories (I know, pity me, I need more food). 

I am now becoming more aware of the need to track my energy levels, meal plan, and training volume.  Rather than being vigilant about NOT eating too much, I have to be vigilant about eating ENOUGH of the right stuff.  It's a strange, strange shift.

Remember Where You Came From

Over the past few days, I've been reminded during different and unrelated situations of how my journey in fitness began. Well, both journeys actually -- my personal journey to better health, as well as my journey of turning fitness into a career.  I think the universe is giving me the opportunity to think of my past and look at my progress.

Me + Cake = Lots of Me

In college, I put on the Freshman 15 (and then some) and knew I needed to make a change. But I had no clue what to do.

I became a cardio queen and lost SOME weight, but my progress stalled and I didn't feel I was getting anything out of all the time I was putting into working out.

After P90X...my journey begins!

So I saw the original P90X infomercial, ordered the program, and got hooked.  Not only did I look and feel better, but I became fascinated with the human body and our abilities as humans to create change and better ourselves.  I studied textbooks, obtained my certification, and began life as a fitness trainer.

My journey has not been perfect.  I've had ups and downs just like everyone else.  I've put weight back on, taken it off, put it on, etc.  But I've never given up, and always tried to increase my level of challenge each year (evolving from 5Ks to marathons to triathlons to, now, Ironman).

I guess the key is sticking with it and working through the hard times.  And remembering where you came from!  Sometimes we forget, but every step we make is integral to shaping who we are as people.  I am thankful for all of my friends, training buddies, and family for helping me on my journey.  I am thankful for each day that I have to make myself better in all aspects -- physically, spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.  I guess that's the definition of progression! 

Nature Hates Me

Okay, to be fair, lately nature has been hating ALL of us.  But this week in particular, it felt personal.  Today's workout seemed to be the cherry on top of an already crappy winter.

In light of the...ahem...abundant snowfall and poor road conditions on Thursday, I was forced to move my speed run (also called the let's-see-how-close-I-can-come-to-puking run) to Friday, the day before today's long spin and running brick workout.  So I already knew today's brick run would suffer.  The negativity begins.

I am officially over the indoor spin bike.  I told the poor bike repair guy so at great lengths yesterday (by the way, Victory Cycle Works in Burnt Hills is great -- totally recommended for your tune-ups and repair needs).  It was a disheartening experience to pick up my bike, all tuned up for the season, only to put it back in the garage for another two, three, ten weeks?  ARG!

Anyway, 2 hours and 15 minutes of spinning to nowhere later, I was ready to begin my 4.5-mile run.  The roads, thankfully, were relatively clear.  But the wind!  Holy crap, there were times I felt like I was running on an outdoor treadmill.  At one point, I audibly said, "Really, wind?  Really?"

Between the snow, the wind, and the general pessimism associated with this winter, I didn't think nature could make it any worse.  Enter the near-animal attack.

At about the two-mile mark, I heard this strange, persistent chirping.  I didn't know what it was until a red squirrel, who obviously was high on PCP, dove at me from a bush on the road shoulder.  If you want mental imagery, picture the scene from Christmas Vacation when the squirrel leaps out of the Christmas tree.  Luckily, he didn't make contact with me.  And I am trained in Israeli Special Forces Krav Maga, so naturally I ran away at top speed, arms flailing like a five-year-old, saying, "omigod-omigod-omigod-omigod."

I didn't break any speed records today (save for the squirrel attack), but I finished the workout.  All I can hope for is that this week brings better weather and better karma.

The Swim Workout from Hell

Wednesday was not a good training day.  I had not slept well the night before, had an overbooked day with a very tight window of opportunity for my workout, and I was just not feeling right.

It was strength day on the weights, and I found myself struggling to hit the weight and rep schemes from the previous week.  No gains this week.  And then, with a negative, defeatist attitude, it was off to the pool. 

70 laps were on the schedule today (3500 yards).  After 10 laps into the warmup set, I was already ready to stop and wondering how I would make it through the workout.  I only read my swim workouts one set at a time so that my head doesn't pop off at how much work has to be done in the pool.  So when I saw that today called for a straight set of 1500 yards (30 laps without stopping), I seriously wanted to pack it in and go home.

So I implemented a little trick that I use sometimes.  First, I broke up the set into 4 laps freestyle with 1 recovery kick set, which I would perform 6 times to equal the 30 laps (who cares what the workout says if I don't get through it).  I told myself if, after each set of 5 laps, I really truly wanted to quit, I could go home without any guilt.

An interesting thing happened -- after each set of 5, I thought, "well, I think I can do just one more."  This kept repeating over and over until, before I knew it, the whole workout was done and all I had to do was cool down for a few laps.

Did I set any speed records that day?  No.  But I trained my mental toughness and was very proud of myself.  This kind of thing could happen at the Ironman.  So I'll use this mental trick in the future and, if needed, on race day in order to power through the times when I just don't want to do it anymore.

Forced Selectivity...aka Sanity

I will admit it -- I am addicted to racing.  I usually forget how many races I've signed up for until I look at them in retrospect.  I think two years ago I did about 26 races that year, which averaged to a race every other weekend.  My name is Amanda, and I am a race-aholic.

This year, I have to be VERY careful about what races I do.  Each race has to have a purpose, otherwise it (1) sacrifices an opportunity to do a more important Ironman training workout, or (2) presents the opportunity for undue injury.  Example:  Tough Mudder is a no-go for this year, along with any other mud runs before Ironman.

That said, I'm finding it very challenging to sit on my hands and NOT submit every race registration that I find in the mailbox.  There are definitely benefits to racing, but they have to be at the right times and for the right reasons.  So casual 5Ks are gone in favor of training weekends and more sporadic tune-up races.

What is a tune-up race?  It's a race that helps you prepare for your BIG race by allowing you to test distances, pacing, nutrition, etc.  It's basically a run-through for your race.  This year, I'm using Ironman Syracuse 70.3 (a half-Iron distance race) in June as my tune-up race.  It's about a month before Ironman Lake Placid, so it will be a good opportunity to test my training and make any final tweaks before the big day.

So far, my race calendar looks like this:

• March - Shamrock Shuffle 5-miler (I allowed this for myself because it's 5 miles....so it's longer than a 5K).
• May - Charlton 5K, which is allowed because the next day is.....
• June - Tour de Cure 100-mile bike ride in the same weekend as the Charlton 5K.  (BTW, if you want to donate to my Tour de Cure effort, hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge, you can do so at http://main.diabetes.org/goto/abarone).  And then later in the month, Ironman Syracuse 70.3.
• July - IRONMAN!

The other issue I'm facing is trying to NOT sign up for crazy difficult races right AFTER Ironman.  So I'm only allowing fun races that are shorter and won't wreck me if I'm not fully recovered.  Some of these are the Crystal Lake triathlon in August and the Lake George Olympic (NOT half-Iron) triathlon Labor Day weekend.

It is hard, but I am going to be smart this season and ask myself, "how does this help me for Ironman?" every time I consider an event.

The Power of Perception

As my training mileage increases, particularly in the pool, I'm amazed at how my perception of "long" and "short" workouts has changed.  40 laps in the pool used to feel long.  This week, I completed three swims of 50, 80, and 70 laps each.  The 50 laps felt short and the 80 (a little over 2 and a quarter miles) felt long.  I worked my way up to this volume gradually, so the change was subtle.  But now I'm proud to say I can swim about twice as far as I could in December.

There is no denying that the sweetest lap is the last lap, though.  There are only so many flip turns you can do before you get bored of staring at the black line at the bottom of the pool, and the occasional Band-Aid.  I got a waterproof iPod and it helps, but I can't help getting bored during the swim workouts.

Another thing I've been tinkering with is my hydration options during my swim workouts.  I've noticed that, as soon as I get to 45 laps, I start bonking unless I put some Gatorade or something in my water.  I switched over to Ironman Perform (by Powerbar) since that's what they have on the Ironman course.  So I'm trying to get the concentration right.  I find that the prescribed concentration of any carbohydrate drink is too strong for me, so I usually dilute it.  I tried 1 scoop in 20 oz last time and it was too week.  1.5 scoops on Friday was too strong.  1.33 scoops might be just right.

The perfectionist in me has some cognitive dissonance regarding my sports drink during the pool workouts.  There's a little voice that says "you won't be able to stop and drink during the Ironman swim."  But I also know that I will be pretty much eating and drinking everything in sight pre-race.  So the pre-race situation will be different than my pre-workout situation.  So I've decided that anything that gets me through my workouts bonk-free is a good move.

Yes, Yes I Did Run in the Snowstorm...

...Okay, to be fair, I ran BEFORE the snowstorm on Thursday, with the final half of my run happening during the beginning of the snowfall (and that only happened because the storm was three hours ahead of schedule, according to our local weatherman). 

And before you say, "You're nuts" (believe me, it's not the first time I've heard it), let me explain why.  I HATE the treadmill.  I loathe it.  I often fantasize about giant treadmill bonfires.  Although I understand that they can be beneficial, they are essentially human-sized hamster wheels that lie about how many calories you actually burned in a workout.  I can run on one for about a mile.  And then I want to bash my head into the dashboard and let the treadmill belt roll my unconscious body to sweet, sweet freedom.

So when the weather forecasters were predicting our super fun snowstorm on Thursday, I had a choice.  I could:

1. Resign myself to the tedium of running on a conveyor belt of human tears and sorrow, or
2. Get up at 4:30 am and run outside before the snow hit.

I'm sure it resonates with you how much I hate the treadmill since I chose option 2.  I was not happy about it, but I did it.

Someone asked me later, "Why didn't you just skip it and take a rest day?"

Secret option 3.  Hmmm...

To be honest, that hadn't even occurred to me -- and I felt very proud.  Because a mental change is happening.  Why not skip the run that day?  Because I would not have been at peace with myself knowing that I'd missed a training session.  Would missing that run have affected my ability to do Ironman?  No, probably not.  But it would've messed with my mood, and that would have carried over into other things.  So, ultimately, I did not run in a snowstorm at 4:30 am for Ironman.  I did it for me.  And I would do it again.

But let's hope I don't have to.  I'm sick of winter.  I'll take spring anytime now, thank you.

Pool Tips and Observations

Here is a list of random suggestions and general musings that I've accrued from all my swim workouts.  Hopefully they'll help in the pursuit of being a happy and courteous pool user.  Or at the very least be somewhat amusing.

1. Like we learned in kindergarten, sharing is a good thing.  Make your peace with having to share a lap lane.  If you are heart-set on having a lane to yourself, you'll be waiting a LONG time to swim.  If you still insist on waiting for your own lane, please have a seat and do not stand at the end of the lane you want, tapping your feet.  Thank you.
2. If possible, do not pick the lane next to the open swim area.  Otherwise, you will be dodging escapee fun noodles and beach balls all workout.  Unfortunately, this can't always be avoided, so just treat it like an obstacle swim.
3. The most respectful way to enter an occupied lane is to announce your presence in some way to the existing swimmer (a wave or verbal greeting is fine), and politely enter on your half of the lane from the shallow end.  The least respectful way to enter an occupied lane is to jump in from the deep end and announce your presence by colliding with the unassuming swimmer who still thinks they have the lane to themselves.
4. If you are sharing a lane, it is poor etiquette to swim the backstroke.  Unless you have internal sonar and can dodge your lane partner without looking.
5. Accidentally whacking arms with your lane partner happens from time to time.  Once or twice is normal.  If it happens twelve times, you need to re-evaluate your trajectory in regards to the big black line at the bottom of the pool.
6. Floating on your back in the shallow end without moving is an activity best suited for the open swim area, not a lap lane.
7. If you swim in a chlorinated pool without goggles, you WILL look like you spent the day smoking pot in the back of your older brother's rusted-out Chevy Astro.  Just sayin'.
8. One of the grossest things you'll ever see is an old Band-Aid lying on the floor of the deep end.
9. Believe it or not, there are dust bunnies in swimming pools.  Or maybe they are aquatic tumbleweeds.
10. If you observe a mother rapidly yanking a crying child from the open swim area, something very bad just happened in the water.

The wealth of knowledge you can collect during triathlon training is amazing.  If you have other words of wisdom regarding the pool, please share!

Training Day 1

So today was my first official Ironman training workout.  Since the holidays, I've been progressively getting back into a training routine.  Logic prevailed in this decision, where I realized it was probably a good idea to slowly build up my mileage so that Ironman training wouldn't break me.

For my training program, I'm following the Ironman Start to Finish 24-week training plan, with, of course, some Barone-ifications.  I'm following the key workouts (swim 3x/week, bike 2x/week, and run 2x/week) with minor tweaks to bring it in line with my own training philosophies and what makes the most sense for my body.

The tweaks I've made are as follows:

• I've included short CrossFit-style strength workouts 3x/week immediately before my swim workouts.  I am a huge believer in strength training and strongly feel that I've never encountered a serious injury because I strength train diligently. 
• I always include a brick run after every bike workout (a brick is when you run immediately following a bike ride in order to get your body used to transitioning between the two in a race).  I did this all last season and noticed a significant improvement in my race transitions (the tired leg feeling didn't last as long into the beginning of the run).  Even if it's only a mile, I force myself to run after riding.
• I am incorporating some of the training philosophies I'm reading about from the Hansons Marathon Method in regards to running.

The Hanson brothers train elite marathon runners and have a very revolutionary and controversial approach to marathon training.  They advocate higher running volume during the week and shorter "long runs" on the weekends.  This flies in the face of traditional marathon training, which is usually short runs during the week and then a LONG run on Sundays, which goes up to about 20 miles near the end of the training program.  The Hanson method only goes up to 16 miles for a long run, but the training leading up to that run creates a simulation of the FINAL 16 miles of a marathon, not the first 16.

They provide lots of scientific backing for their methods, which the traditional marathon methods do not (the only fact-based argument I can find is that "not many people have time to train longer during the workweek," which may be valid for convenience purposes, but does not physiologically mean you will be a better runner).

Another enticing part of this training method is that it is NOT designed to make you feel like you are dying at the end of the marathon.  They want you to finish, but not limping and cursing and taking walk breaks and praying for the misery to end.  That has been how the final 10K of all 4 of my previous marathons have felt.  I do not want a replay of this feeling at Lake Placid.  So I am willing to try a new approach.

Granted, I cannot incorporate ALL of the running volume the Hanson method advocates.  This is an IRONMAN after all, not just a marathon.  I have to swim and bike too, and NOT be dead on my ass for the rest of the day.  But I am finding smart ways to incorporate their techniques, like increasing the length of my brick runs and adding short runs as my warm-up before CrossFit workouts (I was using the rower to warm up before....this was a DUHHHH moment for me).  And I am using their pacing charts to plan my speed and tempo workouts.

So, in regards to today's workout, I feel pretty good.  Everything went well; I'm getting stronger on my swims every time.  I've been including more kick sets since my kicking is pretty sad, and the benefits are showing.  Swimming is definitely the part of the sport that I like the least, but that's probably because it's my weakest area and needs the most attention.

For my CrossFit workout (pre-swim), this is what I did today -- a Satanic circuit that makes you question your sanity after the first round:

• 1/2 mile warmup run
• 3 rounds: 21 cleans w/ 50 lb barbell, 27 burpees, 27 situps

After the first set of burpees, I wondered how I would do two more.  The answer was, as it always is, "one rep at a time."

I think that's more than enough for now.  I'll post more developments as they come.

This Year's Challenge

Well, it's been a while since I've blogged, but I can't think of a better reason to dust off the old Blogger account than to record my adventures in training for the 2014 Lake Placid Ironman.  This will be, to date, the biggest endurance challenge I've attempted.  I have one goal: quite simply, to finish.

If I can finish before the official midnight cutoff time, bonus.

My race isn't until July, so I have ample time to prepare.  This coming Monday marks the start of my 24-week training plan.  I intend to use this blog to post my training revelations, progress, setbacks, epiphanies, and anything else I deem interesting enough to share with anyone who cares to read it.  I also hope to inspire readers to pursue their own "Ironman" goals.  Maybe together we can tackle new challenges and use 2014 as an opportunity to really see what we can do.

More to come as the training starts.  I'm feeling excited and apprehensive, but no truly worthy challenge comes without fear of failure.  Here I go!