On the corner of Despair and Relief

I withdrew from Ironman on Friday. As my last blog entry, this is far from what I envisioned I'd be writing. I can't see me healing this injury and training well and feeling good all at the same time. My long-term health and well-being trump all. Everything else has to give.

Even though Friday was my official withdrawal, I've been mourning the sudden loss of my goal over the past several weeks. So Friday itself brought more relief than I anticipated. I emailed Ironman first thing in the morning and within minutes, the very helpful staff had my partial refund in process. Everything I had to do was nice and tidy...cancel this and change that, white this out from my calendar and cross that off my list, email the house rental and call that hotel. And just as quickly as I became an Ironman-in-Training last June, I became an Injured-Triathlete-in-Recovery at 8:45 Friday morning.

The logistics were surprisingly easy. Ironman is accustomed to people withdrawing--they expect it. The owner of the house I rented has seen cancelations, I'm sure. This stuff happens all the time.

But not to me.

So in the meantime, my heart breaks and my spirit is crushed, only partly because I won't get to do the race. I can let go of Ironman for 2011. If I so decide, there will be another chance. And certainly there are many more seasons ahead of me of whichever races I choose. As my very wise friend Heather says, "one neck, many races."

No, this goes deeper than one missed race. Because I haven't been training the past couple of weeks, I have had lots of time for soul-searching. This is now about setting myself up for a lifetime of activity, triathlon and otherwise. This is about achieving true balance in my life--personal, professional, and athletic--so that no one thing dominates and controls the others. This is about me getting ridiculously clear on my priorities and on why I train and race in the first place. And so much more.

As I close this journal, I send my deepest gratitude to all of you who have been there for this journey. It has a very different ending than I wanted, but the ending isn't any less significant. Nor has this been a failure. I have achieved many goals along the way. And it's time to set new goals for the duration.

I am blessed to be surrounded by an incredible support network that is helping me heal my neck, my heart, and my spirit. You all are part of this network and I will carry you with me long after this blog is forgotten.

And if I ever decide to train for Ironman again? You will be among the first to know.

T minus one week

No, that's not a typo. And no, they didn't move the race up to next weekend. Even though the race isn't until June 26, next weekend is decision time for me. With six weeks yet to go, I'm still healing my neck injury. As this has become my focus, I have cycled through every imaginable high and low. Actually, "high" doesn't quite capture it--it's more like "feeling simply good enough to function." And the lows are some of the lowest I've ever experienced. 

Let me fill in what I've learned since I last wrote. Xrays and other tests have shown nothing indicating bulging or herniated discs. So it's not disc-related, just extremely locked up and spasmodic neck muscles. Phew. Yes, this is easier to treat, but it doesn't make it any less serious. And even though the severe symptoms appeared just weeks ago, I'm really dealing with a chronic issue I can trace back to 2004, perhaps even earlier. I think my body finally gave up trying to heal on its own. It now has my undivided attention.

So even though I can feel the pain subsiding and the muscles easing their unforgiving grip on my nerves, my heart suffers. I am now fearful of the things I love to do. Cycling and running, in particular, are uncomfortable at best and very painful at worst. The bike that brings a huge smile to my face now sits idly by as a reminder of what I've been ordered to not do.

My work now is being patient and living life moment by moment, neither of which I'm great at. I live in the world of closure, of things decided, of permanent ink. I purposefully structure my world so as to have as few surprises as possible. Ha. That world has been thrown into a blender on high. I'm not sure what will come out.

Regardless of what does come out, of what I decide next weekend, I'm steadfastly certain about one thing: There's a higher purpose here. I've yet to discover what that is, but it's out there. So, in addition to healing my neck, my work is also allowing that purpose to present itself to me.

Stay tuned.

Happy Mother's Day

For the second Sunday in a row, I don't feel much like writing. It's a long story, continuing from last weekend's neck and arm pain and ending with me having a bulging disk in my neck. The punchline: I hit rock bottom this past weekend and almost quit. I'm slowly climbing my way back toward my dream...thanks in no small part to my mom helping put me back together when I completely fell apart on Saturday. And to Steve who sent trans-Atlantic love and support and re-declarations of his faith in me (he's in Denmark visiting his brother). And to my veteran Ironman friends who convince me that I've come far enough to finish and that a missed workout here and there is insignificant. And to the health care professionals who help me take care of my body who are insistent that I have plenty of time still to heal and peak and taper for the event. And to my loved ones and friends who listen and listen and listen and express their empathy and love and concern.

To all of you--I hope you know how much you mean to me. Right now, you have more faith in me than I have in myself. This will carry me through healing and into the remaining seven weeks. You give without being asked to and are partners in this with me in every sense.

On this Mother's Day, I am once again humbled by the unwavering love and nurturing of my own mom, and am inspired by the many incredible moms I am blessed to call friends.

Find the Fun

That's what BJ told me in my SOS muscle activation appointment on Monday. Find the Fun. Before I go further, I'll admit that I failed to fill in details on why my Sunday bike ride was so awful...perhaps because I didn't want to admit it out loud and therefore make it all the more real? I'm quickly learning this is part of my problem: I sometimes don't give my most serious issues an outlet and they apparently will not be ignored. Thus, they stick around with nowhere to go but into my neck. Or my hips, or my knees... So here we go--let me give this most recent issue the recognition it deserves. Back to Finding Fun in a moment.

What I thought was a simple stiff-neck-upon-waking a few weeks ago erupted into nerve pain down my left arm thanks to some vertebrae that decided to see what it was like living a little-to-the-left-of-center. OUCH. My lop-sided swim stroke (I breathe on my right side only) has left me with tremendous strength on the left side of my body--that outstretched left side must stabilize me in the water as I rotate far enough to breathe. How strong is it? I thought you'd never ask. It's so strong that those left back, neck, and shoulder muscles are literally pulling my skeleton out of whack. So, yes, I fully GET how important it is to breathe on both sides. Anyway, what does this have to do with my bike ride? Every bump, crack, and hole in the bikepath I felt in my neck. And arm.

Okay, now that we have the details out of the way, let me share with you the really meaningful part of my appointment with BJ. Yes, the muscle activation has helped. Today the nerve was at worst a dull ache and at best nonexistent. And with my regular mindful exercises, my upper body will eventually go the way of my lower body in being more balanced and resilient. The muscle therapy was punctuated with questions of What are you doing to replenish your energy? and How do you rejuvenate? and What do you do to rest and recover? and How do you feed your soul? Deep stuff. I didn't have much of a response aside from I do the occasional yoga class and I take one day off training per week. My feeble attempts to prove (to whom? myself?) that I do in fact take care of myself convinced no one. Not even my cat.

And so after my appointment I sat and journaled for the first time in 5 weeks. In my entry, I renewed my vows. I reminded myself why I signed up for this in the first place and recommitted to my goal. Let this post be a public declaration of this recommitment. I'm tired of being scared and apprehensive and uncertain and all that. I entered this journey with immovable dedication and goshdarnit if I'm going to whimper away 8 weeks out.

To recommit, I return to my very first post where I asked Why Ironman? My answers have evolved but are fundamentally the same.

• because I love to move
• because I love to push my physical limits
• because I love the sport
• because the longer, the better
• because I want to experience something few others will know
• because I want to mark my 40th year with an incredible achievement
• because I can't think of another accomplishment that will require more physical, mental, psychological, and emotional commitment and discipline

And where do I Find the Fun? By surrounding myself with people who nurture me and feed my soul. By taking bike rides on that shiny, new cruiser bike with the flower paint job and the streamers. By soaking up the silliness and sunshiny energy of my nephew, Dylan. By chilling out when I'm not training. And by rediscovering the pure joy in swimming, biking, and running--the pure joy that got me hooked on triathlon in the first place.

Onward I forge...

T minus 8 weeks

This is the hardest thing I've done.

Ever.

I've done hard things in the past. But nothing begins to come close to this endeavor. The intensity just doesn't stop. No, rather, it just gets even more demanding. Part of me reads that and says Duh, what else did I expect? Another part of me says Bring It On. And the other part of me simply wants to hibernate. Until June 27th. 

Yes, I am fully on the rollercoaster. My stellar run yesterday gave way this morning to quite possibly the most awful bike ride I've ever done. This saddens me--I love my bike.

I can point to half a dozen things I could be doing better at this point in training. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say I am determined to not sabotage my dream.

I'm feeling rather demoralized right now--mentally, emotionally, psychologically. Hence, the short post. Know that your replies here and in person and over email to me are priceless and become more and more critical by the day.

Single digits

Yes, I'm down to 9 weeks, to be exact. There's something about going from 10 to 9 weeks left that makes Ironman feel quite imminent, like I need to be ready next week. When I exhale, I remind myself that there are still over two months to go. And I need every day in those 2+ months!

This was a "light" week for me--a week with planned reduced volume to give my body a break but still maintain my progress. The week's totals:

Total time = 10:25
Total mileage = 85.50
Swim = 1:30, 2.40
Bike = 4:20, 66.00
Run = 2:50, 17.10
Other = 1:45

And yet these totals would have been higher, had I completed every workout on my plan. But on Friday my body protested. And I listened by taking a self-imposed second day of complete rest. This sustained high volume of training had caught up with me. It's not so much that I'm doing too much...rather, it's I'm eating too little. With my ever-increasing intensity in training must come a corresponding increase in eating and drinking. This I'm not used to, and I suffered the consequences this week: low energy, slow recovery, physical fatigue that even sleep couldn't cure, and mental sluggishness. All signs of impending burnout.

So I upped my caloric intake and was conscious of drinking more water and in a matter of days, felt 100% better. As I write this, I'm fully aware that always being hungry is something many people see as a good problem to have. It is and it isn't. It is when caloric output is low. It isn't when I need those calories to simply function, to say nothing of carrying me on a 5-hour bike ride. Improper or insufficient nutrition at this point could spell doom for my dream.

On another note...I'm starting to do workouts that simulate race conditions. My long bike ride on Saturday was followed immediately by a 6-mile run. I need to learn how my legs will feel after riding for over 6 hours straight and how to adjust my run pace appropriately. And on Saturday? I felt so-so when I first started running and felt better the longer I went. That's a good sign.

My run today was an 8-miler done mid-afternoon, at just about the same time I'll start running the marathon in the race. This helps me get used to running later in the day after being active for already many hours and during the warmest part of the day.

One final note: As I'm sure you're all well aware, May is just around the corner. I meet with my coach tomorrow to plan my May workout schedule. Several big things happen in May. The reservoir where I do my open-water swim training opens May 7th. I have a century ride in Santa Fe on May 15th and my weekend rides from that point on will hover around 100+ miles. The whole month of May is will see my highest volume yet, and at the end of the month, my training will "peak." 

In the meantime, my new cruiser bike sits patiently in the house still waiting for her inaugural ride. She understands that we'll have loads of fun come July.

The fine line between precaution and neurosis

Last fall, I read a fabulous little book called "Ironplanner" that was written, as you may have guessed, to help folks plan for, train for, and complete Ironman. The author introduced the book by reflecting on her own Ironman experiences--the time, energy, and attention to detail required to be successful. Oh, and the compulsion that surely will develop along the way. I consider myself a careful person. I wear my seatbelt all the time. I know when to say when to the wine bottle. I stay a safe distance from the cliff's edge. I never take off on a ride without my bike helmet, RoadID anklet, cell phone, and credit card, you know, just in case. Lest you consider all of that to be merely common sense, also know that I'm the girl who plans her free time, who can be spontaneous if given enough warning, and who rarely does things not on the to-do list. My 401(k) investing aside, I take very few risks.

No amount of desire for all things planned and predictable, however, prepared me for how utterly preoccupied I'm becoming on this journey.

This won't be the best analogy, but hang with me. Have you ever had a dull ache somewhere minor, maybe on your elbow from hitting it against something? Better yet--maybe you have a song in your head that plays and plays and plays and... This is my life--a 24/7 soundtrack somewhere in my back of my mind of what should I eat and when should I go to bed and who's sick so I can avoid the germs and can I go to happy hour or do I have a swim planned and if I do go to happy hour when can I get in my swim and how busy is my workweek and how will that affect training and am I neglecting my friends and family and if so what do I do and should I stop by the store on my way home from work to pick up food for the next three days and if so what do we need let me try to create the shopping list from memory and...........................INHALE........

I was telling friends at lunch the other day that there's not a minute that passes that I don't think about this undertaking. Sometimes it's very much in the forefront of my mind, like when I'm talking about it or planning workouts or travel or whatnot. Most often, though, it's a lowgrade mumble somewhere in the reaches of my consciousness, a whisper Don't forget about me everything you do matters. And that's true and it's not. I do think about needing to avoid germs. As well as being vigilant about rest and general self-care so I can feel good enough for tomorrow's workout session. Aside from spending more time in the pool and on the bike and in my running shoes, however, I don't think my life has changed all that drastically. (I get that some of you may beg to differ.)

Ironplanner reminded me that there are many things not under my control when it comes to training and racing: weather, the "other people" out there, and emergencies, to name a few major ones. Everything else falls squarely inside my circle of control: how I treat myself during training and during rest, what I eat, when I sleep, when I say yes to one more cocktail. And so on.

Ironplanner warned about becoming obsessed over every little thing, whether directly related or only tangentially connected to the end goal. At the time I thought What a bunch of freaks.

Well here I am, bordering on becoming or already having become one of those freaks, depending on whom you ask.

It's funny...I'm experiencing this fascinating double-duty of simultaneously going through this process and watching myself go through this process. This dual focus creates a clarity I've rarely experienced: I feel every muscle move and engage, I hear every breath, I take note of every person I see on the road or on the trail, I hear every sound and smell every smell (especially the burgers on the grill). With such heightened presence, no wonder Ironman training pushes people to the edge of obsession.

At the same time, I'm careful about how much I talk out loud about my training, the event, and all the nitty-gritty details that accompany this goal. Most of my thoughts stay in my head. I never want to be "that girl" who can't shut up about her average bike pace or swim stroke or nutrition this-and-that. If you ask me to share, that's a wholy different story--I'll talk your ear off as long as you seem curious. You can find me over here making my lists and checking them twice and pouring over the latest obscure research findings.

Everything, and yet nothing, is different

I have a lot of time to think while I'm training. A LOT. Some people ask me how I pass the time and what I do while all alone. I think about many things: what race day will be like, how I'm feeling physically, how my energy is and should I stop to eat, how my to-do list is coming along, what the upcoming week has in store.

I also compose future blog posts. I wait for inspiration and then run (no pun intended) with it. This past weekend, what struck me is that I'm far enough along in training that I'm experiencing new things daily. And yet at the same time, all of this feels terribly familiar. Follow me on a reflection of "the more things change, the more they stay the same."

What's familiar. Soreness and fatigue are the norm nowadays. What's new. The soreness and fatigue are located solely in my muscles, not my joints. And it's mostly gone the next day.

What's familar. I live for movement, the more the better, the longer the better. So this training schedule is right up my alley. I'm used to spending whole days on the bike in the spring and summer. What's new. Not being particularly fond of rest days. Itching to resume training the next day. And feeling sluggish when I do. What's also new. Sustaining this high volume day after day, week after week. I probably won't be able to sleep in without setting an alarm until June 27th. I miss that.

What's new. I simultaneously am the most tired I've ever been and feel better than I ever have. This time last year, I would have regularly favored sleeping an extra hour over getting up well before dawn to make it to the gym. With this goal comes a remarkable focus. I've always been goal-driven, but my previous efforts pale in comparison to this year's Big Event.

What's familiar. I've long been fascinated with how my body works and have been careful to take care of it. What's new. From all of my reading, my massage therapy, working with my coach, and now with my muscle activation sessions, I have learned more about how this is all possible and am infintely more fascinated with the strength and resilience of the human body.

Forgive me as I sound like a broken record. Muscle activation continues to be my saving grace. I had my third session with BJ this weekend and it came not a moment too soon. The day prior, I awoke to the entire left side of my upper back and neck on strike. It was painful even to pick things up. Lo and behold, my left upper back and neck were not the culprit. Rather, as BJ explained, my right side had decided to take the week off, leaving my left with no choice but to do double duty. I'm happy to report both sides are working in concert once again and I had a terrific weekend of some pretty tough workouts.

On that note, on to the week's totals.

Total time = 13:15
Total mileage = 129.00
Swim = 3:00, 4.50
Bike = 6:45, 111.00
Run = 2:15, 13.50
Other = 1:15

That's all I got. Off to bed, to get up and do it all again tomorrow.

Fears, tears, and cheers

Imagine yourself attempting any regular daily activity--walking, brushing your teeth, talking on the phone, breathing even. And yet something isn't quite right. Your legs feel heavy, as if you're wearing ankle weights. You struggle to even pick up your foot. Ditto for your arms when trying to brush your teeth. The phone call? Can't hear. It sounds like the other person is under water. And forget about breathing--every time you inhale, it feels like you're the one under water.

Welcome to my 80-mile bike ride on Saturday: an attempt to do something I've done a million times before, yet feeling utterly handicapped. The forecast called for wind, but I was not prepared for how debilitating it would be. My legs churned, my thighs yelled at me, and I had to turn my head away from the onslaught to catch a breath.

Okay, I exaggerate. The entire ride wasn't so completely backbreaking and demoralizing. Just the last 50 miles. The first 30 were sterling and I clipped along at a blistering pace.

So why the fears? Gusts reached 40+ mph that day. Just when I thought the headwind was bad, I turned a corner and was greeted by the more dangerous crosswind. Several times I felt my bike actually move sideways. I didn't even dare take a hand off the bars to grab a drink. I was keenly aware that at any moment, the wind could catch my front wheel and I'd be laid flat out on my back. I thought about walking during the heinously strong gusts, but I couldn't even stop safely...I knew that if I slowed down, the wind would win.

And what about the tears? The spring "breeze" was relentless, as was the helpless feeling it induced. Despite my exhaustive efforts, there were times I was going only slightly faster than I can run. And don't even ask me about riding at a snail's pace past the pig farm. Twice I seriously considered calling Steve to come pick me up. I didn't...mostly because my rational brain was somehow still working and convinced me that I could be back at my car faster than he could get there, and well, I'd still have to wait in the wind. See, I was in Aurora, a totally-exposed expanse of a town east of Denver. East, as in kinda-like-Kansas. And that means no shelter, no gas station in which to hunker down, no tree even to lean against. It was either sit on the side of the road and wait, or ride on said road and inch closer to salvation. Inch closer, I did. Once back in my car, I sat. I sat in the stillness and quiet. I shed a few tears that day, many while riding and a few more when I was safe and driving back home.

And the cheers? Today I brought home my I'm-turning-40 cruiser bike, my chill-the-$#@%-out-bike. She's resting in the office right now. She had a big day, getting polished up and poked and prodded, what with getting the basket installed and the new valve caps swapped out and the leather streamers glued on. Every time I walk by her, I can't help but smile. I haven't yet introduced her to my road bike, but I'm convinced they'll be fast friends.

This week brought other cheers. Training is definitely getting really hard, and yet I feel better than ever. I can't sing the praises of muscle activation enough. And despite all my whining above about my ride, I recovered quickly and had a terrific 10-mile run this morning. On the swimming front, I'm 800 meters (1/2 mile) away from being able to swim the race distance. This won't come until next month, and yet at this point, my pace is consistent and if I keep it up, I'll meet my swim time goal on June 26.

Here are the week's totals.

Total time = 14:10
Total mileage = 121.75
Swim = 3:35, 4.75
Bike = 6:15, 101.00
Run = 2:35, 16.00
Other = 1:45

One last reflection on Saturday's ride. I think it was at mile 70, when I had 10 miles still to go and was having my second meltdown, when Muhammed Ali's words from my last post entered my head. "The will must be greater than the skill." I have the skill to ride in adverse conditions. And yet skill was not what saw me through those last 10 miles. It was sheer will. No, there are no coincidences--I came across that quote at just the right time.

The will must be greater than the skill

Those words are from Muhammad Ali. I came across them the other day in an interview with Chrissie Wellington, 3-time Ironman world champion and world record holder. It was the same day I talked with Heather, my Ironman veteran friend I've mentioned many times in these posts. She passed on encouragement someone shared with her when she was training for Coeur d'Alene. It went something like this: You could do Ironman tomorrow. You have the physical ability to get through it. You just need to be able to believe that you can.

I'm still making my way there. Could I swim 2.4 miles tomorrow? Yes. Could I bike 112 miles tomorrow? Yes. Could I run 26.2 miles tomorrow? (no comment.) Could I do all of that without stopping? I really really want to say yes. My self-talk hasn't quite caught up to my desire.

I'm to the point now where I'm counting weeks left instead of months. Before I know it, I'll be counting days. I'm starting to sense what it might be like to be ready. The analogy that comes to mind to describe what I'm experiencing right now is taking a road trip. With every mile, home gets smaller and farther away and your end point, while still not within your sights, gets closer. You can just feel it. And at some point you cross the "halfway" mark--where you're closer to your destination than you are to home. I'm well past halfway, far from where I began. Even January seems like a million years ago. And yet the starting line in Coeur d'Alene is quite nebulous. I've been on many starting lines in the past, but not that starting line. I do and I don't know what to expect.

So I take Heather's words to heart. Perhaps I could finish the race tomorrow. At the same time I wonder if it's ever possible to be completely prepared for such an event? It is the thing that simultaneously excites and scares me the most: a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to tackle something a small fraction of the world will ever know. And of one thing I am certain: nothing can break my will.

ahhhh...laziness...

I've spent the afternoon on the couch, napping, reading, and watching the original Superman. This was after running 9.5 miles this morning and cleaning the house and running errands, of course. :-) It feels quite luxurious to have nowhere to go and have nothing to do except close the blinds against the dreary skies and hunker down in my most favorite place.

Yesterday was quite a different story. We hit a record high of 84 degrees and had plentiful sunshine. I had to search for my sunscreen before my 70-mile bike ride, seeing as I hadn't used it since September. What a glorious day! It didn't even matter that the winds blew something fierce. The sun was out, I was out with two awesome friends, Jacquline and Cindy, and I was feeling stellar.

I needed a week like this one. Several things happened to help me get back to feeling like my old self. I began the week melting down in my coach's office. Sorry, the meltdown itself isn't the "old self" part, but rather the putting-me-back-together. My coach has done two Ironmans so I put my training life wholly in her hands. Never once did she say or even intimate "well, maybe this just isn't for you." Rather, she repeated over and over until I started to believe it that I will be ready and I will finish this thing. After talking me off the ledge, she promptly set about planning my April to give my knee the space to heal, but otherwise as if my goal is undeterred. If not for her guidance, I would be lost.

I received more perspective and encouragement in the form of several voicemails from my friend Heather who completed Coeur d'Alene two years ago. Her messages, like those from my coach, were nothing but positive and supportive and empathetic and heartfelt and confidence-boosting. Heather has been there, knows what it takes, has experienced the lows I've struggled through lately. In the spirit of Superman, she swooped in to tell me what I wasn't able to tell myself.

Another crucial event this week was my second muscle activation session with BJ. I've been diligent about completing my exercises twice a day and have noticed results. I was curious as to what he would notice. The original strength tests he repeated all showed that my quads, hams, and calves are much stronger due to the specific exercises he prescribed. The new tests showed that although I have strong abs and chest, my inner thighs, shoulders, and upper back need help. And you can probably guess what that means: more exercises. Five new ones to add to my routine. I'll gladly take them. BJ also was very positive about the progress toward my goal. I'll see him again in two weeks.

Finally, three of my workouts this week have helped shift things for me. On Tuesday, I did a 30-min bike followed immediately by a 6-mile run. I came home beaming--I've not felt that good in a while. Saturday was my long bike ride and my knee held up like a rock star through all 70 miles. Not once did it even whisper at me. And today was my long run. Ditto.

I'm to the point now where details make a huge difference. New running shoes. Lowering my bike seat a millimeter. Eating a few more calories on the run. Getting an extra 30 min of sleep. Having just one glass of wine. And so on.

Here are this week's totals (swim is a bit less than it should be due to the pool being closed for a week):

Total time = 11:00
Total mileage = 97.60
Swim = 1:40, 2.50
Bike = 5:15, 77.00
Run = 2:55, 18.10
Other = 1:10

I'll end on a high note. I'm noticing a mindshift, too, with regard to my usual nuisances. Last year, you'd be hard-pressed to get me on my bike or out for a run with the forecast calling for 25-mph winds or rain changing to snow. And yet two things are different this year: If I'm to meet my goal, I don't have much of a choice than to suck it up and face the weather demons. More importantly, however, I now know that such obstacles will only make me stronger. What if June 26 sees vicious headwinds? What if it rains all day? What if the water is really cold? It's not like I'm not going to get up and face whatever race day brings. Strange...these once-unfriendly conditions are now my friends. They're exactly the things that toughen me up for what will be a beast of an event even in good weather.

T minus three months

Geez, I've been staring at the screen for the past 15 minutes wondering what to write. Perhaps I'm waiting for inspiration. Not that I don't have things to report. I just don't have anything witty or clever to go along with it. So consider yourselves forewarned.

Three months from today is the big day. Today also is Dylan's (my nephew) 2nd birthday. Sorry...I couldn't let the day pass without acknowledging that milestone! :-) I was telling some friends the other day that the 3-month mark has snuck up on me. And that's a good thing. I don't want to be surprised that, say, May is suddenly here.

While time has been "sneaking up" on me, I'm really starting to notice the results of my baby-steps training regimen. Of course the fruits of my labor are there in plain sight when I look at the numbers--how much I can do now vs three months ago. More importantly, I'm noticing how quickly I recover from workouts. I expect to be tired and a bit sore during and certainly after my workouts. A more telling gauge of my fitness is how I feel the next day. And I'm waking up these days feeling fresh and ready to do it again.

This past week was a "recovery" week--every 3 weeks the endurance and intensity of my workouts dips to give my body a chance to rest without my overall training suffering. So, this was the ideal week to take a spontaneous trip to the mountains with Steve (see previous post). This weekend away was perfect medicine. We enjoyed beautiful surroundings, plenty of sunshine, gourmet meals, and reconnecting with each other. Steve had some killer snow on the mountain and I got in all of my training. Everyone was happy!

Here are this week's totals:

Total time = 9:15
Total mileage = 74.30
Swim = 1:10, 1.80
Bike = 3:15, 54.00
Run = 3:05, 18.50
Other = 1:45

What I'm happy with: my ability to be spontaneous, my diligence in helping my knee heal, my performance on my 8-mile run, and how I felt today on my "brick" workout (2-hour ride followed immediately by a 3-mile run).

What I'm still hopeful about: the you-know-what, that I'll be able to get my bike fit just right, and that I'll be able to better manage my emotional and psychological energy.

Ode to Steve

More than a few things are taking a backseat to Ironman training this spring. (Yes, the kitchen floor still needs mopping.) And as my training sessions get longer and harder, the backseat is getting pretty full. As necessary as this may be to fit training into my already full life, I refuse to put certain things in the backseat. These, primarily, are my relationships. Do I have as much time to spend with friends and loved ones? No. Can I nuture these relationships just the same? Yes.

And so I wanted to take a time-out from logging here my hours and mileage and other training-specific details to publicly exalt the one person who is most impacted by my crazy training schedule: my sweetie, Steve.

Let me bring you back to Monday, when Steve first mentioned a last-minute weekend getaway to the mountains. He's itching to get in as many days as possible on the snowboard before ski season turns to mud season. How about a weekend in Beaver Creek or Vail? he asked. Normally, this is not a tough decision for me. In fact, this is typically not a decision to be made at all but a no-brainer YES. This spring, as you know, is not typical for me. So, I can't believe I'm about to say this...I actually had to THINK about this, this super cool opportunity to visit a beautiful place and have a true getaway with my true love. Whaaa???!!

Seriously...I started to spin. I spun around How do I get my workouts in? What if we get snowed in and I can't get home to my bike? What if I can't find a treadmill?

And then came...What, really, is the worst that could happen? What are my priorities? How can I prioritize both our relationship AND training? Need they be mutually exclusive?

Once I shared my dilemma with Steve, he immediately started helping me problem-solve. He empathized with my concerns about completing my training sessions. He Googled gyms and workout facilities in the area. He helped me brainstorm options. And he totally understood when I said that I need to leave at 7 am Sunday to get back home. My hero. (Cue Luke's theme.)

I have training partners who swim, bike, and run with me, who have done and are currently training for Ironman. These are the people who truly "get" it. Yet Steve is my most important training partner. Even though many of my friends and family are feeling the side effects of my training schedule (thank you), Steve is the one person who lives this schedule every day. I'm gone in the morning well before he gets up and I'm asleep well before he is. In the evening, he may not get my best because I often don't have much left in the tank. And my weekends are full of activities we don't share.

And through all of this, he's always there to listen to me, to ask me, to talk with me, to commiserate with me, and to celebrate with me. He needn't have done Ironman to also "get" it.

As I plow ahead with an increasingly intense training regimen, two things have become crystal clear for me: how serious I am about preparing for Ironman the right way, and how serious I am about not letting our relationship suffer in the meantime. No, rather, I'm determined that we'll become stronger for it.

Mountains, here I come!!

What a difference a week makes

Actually, make that two hours. As I promised myself in last Sunday's post, I had an appointment with BJ, my new Muscle Activation Therapist (MAT). Or, as I call him, bestower-of-hope and worker-of-magic.

More on that in a minute. First, the weekly totals.

Total time = 12:10
Total mileage = 95.70
Swim = 3:05, 4.70
Bike = 4:50, 77.00
Run = 2:15, 14.00
Other = 2:00

Second, highlights from the week. As you can see above, I returned to running. I had two solid runs this week, a 6-miler with my dear friend Ali (whom all of you know if you read the comments to my posts :-) and an 8-miler this weekend which turned out to be one of my best runs in recent memory. yahoo!!

And I reached a milestone in the pool: not only did I log the most swim mileage yet for a week, two of my three swims were 3000 meters each (nearly 1.9 miles), which is 3/4 of the Ironman distance (4000 meters). I'm feeling stronger than ever in the water.

I also am happy with having completed all of my workouts despite another (warning: you're about to hear a broken record) busy week at work. This meant awaking before 5am every morning and crashing the moment I get home. Poor Steve did not get my best this week.

Okay, now about my appointment with BJ. Forgive my gushing. I was, in a word, F-L-O-O-R-E-D at what I learned about my body. I learned that my left leg--the hip and knee that gives me the most grief--is, in fact, NOT my problem child. Rather, it has been the workhorse for far too long. And it's finally protesting. 

I learned I've been stretching the wrong way for 40 years. I learned how to reactivate my muscles to work for me and support my joints like they're supposed to, rather than giving them the day off and asking my hips and knees to bear the brunt of the abuse I give my body. (sorry) I learned that reactivating said muscles takes mere seconds and is something I can do while lying in bed. I re-learned what it feels like to have my muscles working properly in simple activities like walking. I learned that my hip joints don't have to click and pop when I go up and down stairs. And I learned how to tap into my body's natural healing ability.

All of this and more in two hours.

I'm not finished with MAT, of course. I have several more appointments with BJ and I have twice-daily homework: 5 minutes of simple isometric exercises designed to reteach my brain and muscles to communicate with each other.

And the best part? The part that made me want to cry in relief and screech with delight at once? For the first time, I heard someone tell me that the goal is to help me live the lifestyle I want. There was not a single mention of rest or time off. Why shouldn't you be able to do the things you love and feel good doing them? was BJ's rhetorial question. You should, was BJ's very real answer. I just need to relearn how to do them properly.

Despite the progress from yesterday's session, my knee was not terribly happy during the last half of today's 60-mile bike ride. It will take time for the current inflammation to subside. Fair enough. I now can be patient instead of upset with my overstressed joint. And if I'm to demand that it perform for 140 miles of constant movement in June, is this not the least I can do?

Between two worlds

This Sunday finds me in a strange place, and not one I'm particularly fond of. I'm at once strong and weak. Building up and falling apart. Really happy and really cranky. Is this what I signed up for?

My swimming continues to soar (see below). Biking, I love more than ever. And running? Well...UGH. Whoever thought running was a good idea? And fun?! At this moment, you couldn't convince me that there's a more inane activity than running. Try. 

I 86-ed all running workouts this week. First it was the hip muscle that reared its ugly head again. Once that healed, my chronic left knee canceled my 10-mile run this morning. I know it's only early March and I have lots of time to run. And yet, before I know it, it will be late May and time will be running out.

Yes, there is good news from the week. First, let me share my weekly totals.

Total time = 11:00
Total mileage = 77.65
Swim = 2:55, 4.65 miles
Bike = 5:10, 73 miles
Run = 0, 0
Other = 2:55

So, the good news? Two things. My fellow Coeur d'Alene trainees and I rode the simulated bike course again this Saturday. This time we rode one loop of the entire course--56 miles. In one word: ***-kicker. Despite some setbacks due to above-mentioned knee issues, and the fact that this simulation is really HARD, I finished strong and rode the entire 56 miles. Based on my performance, I should have no problem meeting my bike time goal in the actual race.

The second success this week came today in the pool. I captured some time trials, to set a sort-of baseline of performance at this point in the season. My mom was my time-keeper. Thanks a million, Mom!! :-) I swam a 200-meter set (four laps in the pool) and then an 800-meter set (a half-mile) after a short rest. Indulge me the details. Mom timed my 200m swim as a whole, then timed my 800m swim both as a whole and in 50m splits. Here's the point: I'm aiming for not just a good overall time, but also a consistent pace throughout the entire 800 meters. So, if I'm doing it right, each lap's time should be within a few seconds of each other.

And that's exactly what happened. First, the 200m time: it was 8 seconds shorter than this time last year. Which is huge for me--to shave that much time off means great gains.

As for the 800m time? I was a whole minute (plus 4 seconds, to put a fine point on it) faster than my time last year!! I know I'm a better swimmer now, but I didn't expect that much improvement. And better yet--my time per lap was very consistent...and my last lap was one of my fastest for the whole set. As with my cycling, if I can maintain this performance in the race, I also will beat my swim time goal.

I head into this coming week with one major goal...and I know my friend Ali is reading this so she'll appreciate that I will definitely be calling her MAT to get some attention paid to this left knee. I'm determined to get my running moving in the same direction as my swimming and biking.

Very soon, goshdarnit, I WILL report here some running successes.

No more messing around

That was my reaction when my coach gave me my March training schedule. I've been training for Ironman, really, for a few months now. But March will see the biggest gains yet. And it only gets longer and more intense from here. By the end of March, I will be swimming 3/4 of the final distance, biking 75 of the 112 miles, and running over half the marathon miles.

This post has two topics. First, I want to reflect on the past week, my first week back to training after spending last week in Florida (see previous post). Second, I'm starting something new, something that I want to do at the end of each training week. I often get asked how much training I'm doing, so every Sunday evening I will post here my training totals: how much swimming, biking, running, and "other" activities I've done for the week. The "other" category will include yoga, strength training, and other cross-training (e.g., hiking).

First, the past week. It was in every sense a rollercoaster of emotions. Monday was my first day back to work and I quickly found it therapeutic and healing to talk out loud about Dad and the events of the week prior. It was difficult, for sure, but I needed to be surrounded by people who cared. And, blessedly, that's what was waiting for me at work. As the week went on, my spirits picked up. Then Friday came. And I bottomed out. Sigh.

As far as training went, I completed all scheduled workouts. With the onset of March comes an even more focused and serious mindset with regards to both training and nutrition. No more messing around, indeed.

Second, my training totals for this week (time is listed in hours:minutes).
Total time = 11:10
Total mileage = 80.45
Swim = 2:30, 3.85 miles
Bike = 4:05, 61 miles
Run = 2:35, 15.60 miles
Other = 2:00

I feel pretty terrific in the pool and on the bike. My running is simply good enough--not stellar and yet not awful. Today's run was 8 miles. The first 7 were great. Bummer I was still a mile from home. Apparently my left knee thought 7 miles were plenty. I had to sweet talk it into finishing the run and then I treated it to some good stretching and TLC once home. I have a feeling I'll be doing this a lot this spring.

And speaking of spring...I'm trying hard not to get ahead of myself. But Saturday's 3-hour bike ride was outside and boy was it rejuvenating and exciting. The temps hovered around 45-50 and the sun did her best to show her face. Even better than the close-to-ideal riding conditions was that I rode with my dear friend Cindy. A few days prior, I'd gotten a solid bike fit and bought aerobars--extensions off the front of my handlebars that give me another riding position option, one that's more "aerodynamic." Short of buying a tri-specific bike, these aerobars are designed to put the load on my skeleton, not my muscles, while riding and thus will help save those muscles for the run. They also give me more power, just with how I'm positioned on the bike. And, being more aerodynamic, I should shave some time off because there's less wind resistance. All that being said, I'm very happy with both my new bike fit and aerobars. 

And on the topic of spring, I can't wait to "spring forward" next weekend! It will make training outside after work that much easier. 

I hope this post finds you happy and healthy and at peace. Thank you, as always, for reading.

Letting go

I'm not quite sure where to start. The past week has been simultaneously one of the most meaningful and difficult weeks I've lived. The reason I write about it here--in other words, the reason it's relevant to Ironman training--is that I took a week of "forced" rest. And the reason for the forced rest is that my father died.

Thus, I had to let go. I let go of my training schedule for the week. I let go of expectations of any physical activity. I let go of the need for regular sleep. I let go of finding the most nutritious meals, a hard enough task when the trip is planned. I let go of pretty much everything that didn't involve being fully present in the moment--present for my father's last days alive, present for my family, and present for myself.

And this letting go was the perfect training plan. It couldn't have been any other way. 

So I return to "normal" life with heavy body and heavy heart. Dad was proud of my Ironman goal and supported me until his last day. I listed him in a previous post as one of my earliest athletic inspirations and his inspiration will carry me through the rest of training and most importantly on race day. Thanks, Dad, for teaching me the importance of self-care, discipline, and physical activity.

And thank you all for letting me share this news here.

Impermanence

I don't believe there are coincidences. I believe the universe sends us messages through things that only seem accidental. And it's our job to be open to and heed these messages. As I soak up my first few days of being 40, I am starting to throw away the stale cupcakes from the party, toss the dead flowers that graced the table, and file away the birthday emails. Cards and photos still cover the kitchen table--I can't bring myself to put those away just yet.

Restoring our home to it's original state, I started crafting my next post in my head. I wasn't sure exactly what to write until about 15 minutes ago when I received my daily Yoga Journal Insight email and was struck by its title. The message was about impermanence, specifically the impermanence of troubles, designed to help give perspective when things are rough.

I didn't read the entire message, not because I couldn't have benefited from it, but rather because I took this as a sign from the universe that this week is about watching out for becoming too attached to any one thing. Even that word "impermanence" has been floating around in my head all week, and once I read the title of the email, I instantly knew what to write here.

This is not the only week I've struggled with letting go. This was my challenge last week, and the week before, and the week before that, and...you get the point. And it's not just about detaching from fun, exciting, past events like birthdays and celebrations. Every time I have a great race or a stellar workout, a bummer of a run or swim reminds me things can change in a matter of hours. Every time I better my time or speed, I know that tomorrow's workout might not be so great. And yet I must remember, as the email message stated, this impermanence also applies to low points. 

Here's what I learned this week: as much as Ironman training is an exercise in many small training successes leading up to one day, it also is an exercise in the fleeting nature of such successes. It's a delicate balance between appreciating how every workout, every rest day, and every meal furthers progress toward my overall goal, and not getting too hung up on any one particular workout, rest day, or meal. It's about knowing when to persevere and when to stop, when to hold on and when to let go, when to celebrate accomplishments and when to quietly check them off the list. And can't we say the same thing about life in general?

40

Today is my 40th birthday! True to birthdays when I was younger, it's really been a birthweek. I was blessed to celebrate this special occasion surrounded by many loved ones.

I have been excited about this birthday ever since I turned 39. A good number of years ago I decided that I always wanted to be proud to tell people my age. As a result, my outlook on age changed instantly. This outlook goes beyond the cliche that "age is just a number." It's a number that represents so many things: choices, events, attitudes, successes, failures, likes, dislikes, thrills, embarassments. And back then I resolved to share with others the pretty and the ugly, to live in such a way that I'm not ashamed of my choices. Easy enough to do when it's something pleasant--a win, a success, an achievement. Tougher when it comes to stumbles and screw-ups. But what's the alternative--pretend they never happened? Too late. Rather, I find that honoring those less-than-graceful moments, looking upon them not with judgment, but with humanity and humility, serves me better.

Thanks to the encouragement from a dear friend of mine, Kelly, as I celebrate the onset of my 40s, I also am honoring and paying tribute to my 30s. In my excitement at looking toward the future, I can't forget that I'm leaving a decade that has been nothing short of magical. My 30s saw many momentous events. I got my first "real" job, and by that I mean a job that wasn't tied to graduate school in some way. I got serious about cycling. I stopped living someone else's dreams and began pursuing my own by moving to Colorado, my "soulplace." In Colorado, I found my perfect-fit profession and inherited amazing colleagues and friends in the process. I became an aunt and instantly fell in love with my nephew. And, of course, I met Steve.

My 30s also saw the birth of my triathlon "hobby." To help me with my athletic goals, one of Steve's gifts to me was what I'm calling my "chill the @#%! out bike"--a totally girly cruiser bike that that doesn't allow lycra or those clippety-clop bike shoes. Nope, this bike is a trip back in time and will bring me full circle to the days of my first ride with the streamers and basket. And don't forget the bell.

Now comes the tough decision: which color scheme??

I didda bidda Idaho

For today's workout, I rode the Coeur d'Alene bike course. Well, sort of. I rode a simulation of the course, and what a blast it was!! Let me share.

I know three other women doing Ironman Coeur d'Alene. The four of us, plus four other fellow triathletes, rented out a cycling studio that owns a computerized satellite-captured simulation of all 112 miles. We did not, of course, ride all 112 miles today--YIKES. We did ride for two hours and it was by far my most challenging bike workout yet this season.

Indulge me in a description of the oodles of delicious statistics the simulation provided. oooh, it was exciting! For each of the eight riders, the big screen displayed our mileage covered (different for each because we were riding at different speeds), grade, current and average mph, current and average power (in watts...think outlets and electronics: a standard outlet puts out 110 watts, a computer uses 10 watts; my average power was about 120 watts), and pancakes earned (more commonly known as calories burned). In addition, the computer also calculated who was in "first" etc, as well as how far behind (in feet) we each were from the person immediately ahead of us. I was in heaven, watching all those numbers accumulate and change by the second!

Today's workout was perfect for training because it's course reconnaissance--short of being there, I can't get any closer to Coeur d'Alene. The studio has these uber-cool bike trainers that are hooked up to the computer. With my bike mounted on the trainer and plugged into the computer, when the course hit an incline, it instantly changed the resistance on my rear wheel and I needed to adjust my pedaling and gearing to maintain speed. Same thing for descents, except--dang--I couldn't coast on the trainer. Absent gravity and weather, it was identical to riding outside. Thanks to this virtual reality, it didn't take long for me to realize how challenging the bike segment will be. It is not flat. The grades top out at 10% with sustained climbs of 8.6%. I take comfort in that cycling is my first love. This means I'll have to balance taking advantage of my cycling strength with being careful to not destroy my legs for the run.

The lesson from today: I have a long way to go to 112 miles on a course like this. And at the same time I'm light years ahead of where I was at this point last year. We'll return to the studio in March to ride half of the course, 56 miles. And then perhaps ride a longer portion at least once more before race day. As we headed to Village Inn for post-workout refueling, we all agreed that we're relieved it's only February!! At this point, it still feels like I have plenty of time to train and prepare. No doubt that in a matter of a few weeks that feeling will morph into feeling like time is zooming by. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the "Ironman is still far away" feeling. :-)

Miami

Living in Denver, it's not uncommon to experience great temperature fluctuations within mere hours. Particularly during the "shoulder seasons" the temperature can drop 50 degrees from noon to midnight. Nothing, however, prepared me for the brutal change in climate when I landed at DIA Monday night. Earlier that day, the ladies and I were lounging by the pool in Miami, getting our dose of vitamin D under brilliant skies. In a matter of four hours, we went from 75 to -4. Welcome home. I know many of you also are suffering through this mean winter weather, so I don't expect any sympathy. :-)

But I digress. This is about Miami itself and the race!! What to give attention to first?

I'll start with the main purpose of the trip: the race. I trained well, ate well, got stronger, and set a challenging yet realistic goal: sub-2-hours. This meant Lisa and I would have to average a pace of 9:13 min per mile or better. Very doable, especially considering how grossly I'd underestimated my potential performance at last year's half in Dallas. Very doable, too, because I am in quite a different place now than at this same time last year. I am clearer on what I'm capable of achieving. This race, then, was in many ways a test--a test of my training, my preparation, my mental toughness, and my realism in setting goals. Reading that, this sounds like a lot of pressure. But if I'm to set goals that push me beyond where I currently am, this is what I need to do.

About the race itself. It was similar to last year's Dallas race in that Lisa and I started off strong and quick. I love sea level!! :-) Also like Dallas, we kept a consistent pace that gradually chipped away at our average pace. And, as happened last year, I suffered a drop in physical and mental force at mile 11, but finished running my strongest and fastest.

And yet the race was simultaneously wholly unlike Dallas. Rather than chasing her, I actually ran with Lisa the whole way. We passed many more people (1) than passed us, and (2) than we passed in Dallas. And the biggest difference between Miami and Dallas? Our finish time and average pace: We crossed the 13.1-mile mark at 1:59 for an average pace of 9:07 min per mile. Yippeeeee!!!

Equally fun and rewarding was being with friends I love, women who feed my soul. Juli had a terrific race, completing her first-ever half-marathon in an amazing 2:16. Several other non-racing friends traveled with us to round out the group and take part in the celebration of friendship. Many times throughout the weekend I was struck with how blessed I am, to have these incredible women in my life.

When we weren't racing or doing race-related things, we were exploring downtown Miami and Miami beach. There was a perfect mix of activity and rest. True to my intent, it was a restorative trip. Even though I was gone for four days, it felt much longer. And, despite the inhuman cold awaiting me in Denver, I was ready to come home...home to Steve and our life here, home to my friends and family, home to the rest of Ironman training, and home to my quickly-approaching 40th birthday. On to the next great thing!

T minus five months

Exactly five months from this moment, I will be recovering from Ironman--yahoo! :) I figured it needed acknowledgement. At this very moment on January 27th, I am packing for my trip to the Miami half-marathon. I'm so excited for this trip I can't stand it. I am spending three days with some of my closest girlfriends--strong, nurturing, lovely women I can't get enough of.

While filling out my workout journal the other night, I was reflecting on my first month of 2011. I am happy with my progress so far: I have missed only one workout this month, and that was due to a cranky left knee. I figured it was better to rest it than to risk not being able to run Miami. I am especially happy with fulfilling my training schedule considering the absolute nuttiness that has been my work schedule. I'm up well before dawn to get in my workout before heading to a very full, active day of teaching at work. After work, I squeeze in a swim or bike ride or yoga practice before going home.

And then I crash. To get up and to do all again the next day.

If all goes as planned this spring and summer, every week won't be like this. In the meantime, I'm happy to have already gotten into the habit of prioritizing Ironman training. Not too long ago, I would have 86-ed the workout because I wasn't able to effectively manage all things going on in my life. And I suffered for it, not just physically, but also psychologically and emotionally.

This trip to Miami will be brief but necessary for its restorative nature. Yes, I consider running 13.1 miles restorative. Life day-in and day-out is more strenuous than a simple half-marathon!

Stay tuned for the race report next week. Have a great weekend everyone!

And so it begins...

Growing up in southeast Michigan, we had easy access to Cedar Point, an amusement park near Cleveland on the shores of Lake Erie. Summers found us taking road trips or boating across the lake to spend a day or the weekend riding the rides until we could barely stand and we'd lost our voices. What fun!!

To this day, I love rollercoasters. The higher, the faster, and scarier, the better! I have zero desire to bungee jump or skydive or parasail, but find me an amusement park and I'll ride every rollercoaster at least once.

Let me be clear: My love of rollercoasters is strictly limited to the amusement park kind. Last week I experienced a rollercoaster of a very different sort. You know the one. The one that takes you on emotional highs and then drops you--BOOM--til you're at rock bottom. The one that finds you waking up feeling stellar and then yanks that rug out from under you mere hours later. The one that has you questioning if up is down and if left is right. This particular rollercoaster had me questioning exactly what I've gotten myself into.

The bummer news is that, all told, it was a fairly typical week. I wish I could point to an event, something that happened to explain the ups and downs. But everytime I reviewed the week, I came up empty-handed. I worked my usual schedule, had a great group of participants in the class I taught, hung out with Steve at home, met up with a friend for dinner, and got in (most of) my workouts. The only thing out of the ordinary is that my mom was in town visiting, and yet that's no longer all that unusual, what with her grandson (my nephew Dylan) here and all.

Despite all this "normalcy" I found myself waking up mad at the world, just wanting to lay my head back down and ignore the demands facing me. But drag myself to standing, I did, and once I did, magic happened. My mood transformed. I was excited to get back in the classroom for the day, to meet my class participants. I had a stellar swim one evening that was clear evidence that I will meet my Ironman swim goal. Other days the sequence of events was reversed: I jumped out of bed and threw on my running shoes, convinced it would be my best run in the history of the universe, and--lo and behold--it was!! I floated, strong and fast, thrilled to be running outside again. This euphoria carried me all the way to.......um, about noon? And then the soreness crept in. I hadn't properly stretched this morning, post-run. And I paid for it later. These days, the aches and pains take up residence in my lower legs and feet. When it's really bad, the simple act of walking becomes uncomfortable.  

Why do I do this to myself? Exactly what I wondered last week.

Because I'm not willing to give up my Ironman dream, I must accept these rollercoasters. Yes, I think this is the "new normal." This is the ride I'm on, the ride I've chosen, from now through June...and perhaps for a few weeks after, too. And even as I write all of this, I must re-admit that this ride is already one of the most fun I've taken.

As I decide how to close out this entry, I'm staring at a quote posted on my computer screen: "To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did." I think that about captures it.

The great indoors

Today marked the first time I made it outside for a workout in nearly a month. Jacquline and I had a great 9-mile run this morning. Prior to today, though, the bitter cold, the snow, and the as-yet-unmelted ice had forced me indoors. This I expect for cycling: my indoor bike trainer and cycling workout DVDs are permanent fixtures in our guest bedroom this time of year. But I always seem to be able to make it outside to run. This is partly because, unlike for a bike ride, the sidewalks and trails don't have to be perfectly clear for a run--just safe enough for me to stay upright. My desire to run outside, however, has more to do with my distaste for the dreadmill--I mean the treadmill. Avoiding the treadmill and the bike trainer, however, aren't really options for me right now. Ironman and the quickly-approaching Miami half-marathon have me doing long rides (two hours plus) and runs (10 and 11 miles the past two Sundays). Logging these hours means I usually pop in a workout DVD or turn on the TV and hop onto the bike and ride by myself. Likewise, my long runs on the treadmill mostly have been alone--just me, my iPod, and the news. 

I used to look upon the treadmill and bike trainer as necessary evils, last resorts when the weather was most uncooperative. That all changed at Christmastime. Because of my pretty significant goal this year, and because training can't wait until the weather turns nice, I have gained a whole new appreciation for these machines. I've learned that a good balance of indoor and outdoor workouts will make a big difference come June 26. Here is why.

What I appreciate about outdoor workouts. First (indulge me in being obvious), I'm outside. This means gulps of fresh air and sun warming my skin. With every turn, the scenery changes, and breathtaking scenery it is. Outdoors, I have options: I can do an interval workout around the local park and not worry about car traffic. Or I can get in some great climbing without having to venture very far from the house. Or I can head in any direction on the web of bike paths and get in a long endurance run or ride. When it comes to riding and running outside, it's easy to scare up a workout partner or gather a group. And this gives me practice being in a group, which is what I'm doing in races. Thus, most importantly, outdoors workouts simulate race conditions. I can choose training routes that are similar to the race course in terms of terrain, distance, and characteristics. Even better, I can train on the actual race course if it's in the Denver/Boulder area. I view outdoor workouts as "race reconnaissance." I not only become familiar with race conditions, I practice handling the unexpected and unplanned: flat tires, delays, animals, detours, unfriendly weather, etc.

What I appreciate about indoor workouts. I'll start with the most important benefit: I have direct control over speed, intensity, and timing. I can keep exact track of interval duration, change the hill grade in a split-second, and you know how I love numbers! Indoors, I'm also able to multi-task, as best I can. I can catch up on movies and keep up with sports. When working out at home, there's an endless supply of food and water (and my always-willing personal assistant, Steve--thank you sweetie!) and easy access to the bathroom. Thanks to climate-control, I need not bundle up. Nor do I have to worry about flat tires or accidents. At the gym, there's typically some interesting scenery, more the human kind than the mountainous kind. And the most reliable thing about the indoors? It's always there, anytime of day or night.

In spite of our temporary "warming trend" here, I'm trying really hard not to get spring fever. It's much too early. But today gave me a taste for what my training will be like later this year, when I can swim, bike, and run outside without too many layers, for hours and hours at a time, soaking up all the wonder that is the Colorado outdoors. In the meantime, I will soak up all the wonder that is the indoors, Colorado and anywhere my training takes me.

The master plan

I mentioned a few posts ago that I'm a big-picture girl. I love to live in the world of master plans. So you can understand my excitement last week when I received my Ironman training plan from my coach. This plan does not yet detail what I'll be doing each minute of the day in training. At this point, I'm simply getting comfortable with aspects such as how many hours I'll be devoting to training each week, what will be the general focus for the week, and when my preparatory races will be. So, in the interest of answering "how does one train for Ironman?" I thought I'd share some of these big-picture features with you. I've also confessed that I'm a numbers gal, so consider yourself forewarned. :)

• From now until June 26th, I will put in at least 320 hours of training. Over the next 172 days, this is an average of almost two hours a day. Of course, some days will--hallelujah--be complete rest days. Other days will be spent running an hour after riding for five. The volume and intensity will vary from day to day and week to week, all designed to push me beyond what I can do now and then allow my body to recover.
• Of these 320-ish hours, about 20% will be spent in the water (pool now and lake come May); nearly half will be on the bike; almost 30% will be running; and the few remaining hours will be invested in strength training and yoga. If I count active recovery and massage in this total, I'm looking at probably 400 hours.
• There are 25 weeks until Ironman. This equates to an average of 13 hours per week spent training. Because my training plan cycles through 3-4 weeks "on" and one week of "recovery", some weeks will be light--more like 8-9 hours. Other weeks will have me training 15+ hours.
• During my most intense period, I will be training 16-18 hours per week. This will happen for eight weeks total, sprinkled throughout April, May, and June. Forgive me in advance if I seem to drop off the face of the earth during that time. :) My true "peak" will be the week of June 6th. After that week, I will begin my taper period: backing off on serious training, going into maintenance, and doing all the other kinds of prep for the race, like packing.

I have three races I'm using as preparation.

• January 30th will find me in sunny Miami for a 1/2-marathon. This race gets my running mileage up early in the season so I'm hopefully not playing catch-up too close to Ironman. The main motivation for picking this particular race, though, is to get all the ladies together for a warm-weather getaway! There will be eight of us flying in from all over the country to run the 5k or the 1/2-marathon. And I'm sure there will be some beachtime and visits to South Beach thrown in for good measure.
• On May 15th, I'll do the Santa Fe Century. This not only works well, timing-wise, for Ironman training, it's a terrific excuse to visit Santa Fe in the spring! A bunch of us are planning to do the ride together. It's a 100-mile ride, and I'm fully expecting my coach to tell me to run several miles right after.
• And on June 4th, I'm doing the Boulder Sunrise Triathlon. This is an Olympic-distance race, not quite 25% the distance of Ironman. The one bummer about doing an Ironman so "early" in the season is that there aren't many local triathlons I can use for training--it's too early in the season! The Boulder Sunrise happens to be one of them, and better yet, it's right up the road in Boulder. The Olympic distance is nice, too--it's not so long that I'll be overtrained for Ironman, and it's not a sprint distance, which is too short to even be worth the effort. The benefits of this race are that it will take me about 3 hours to complete (making it an endurance event), it's in a very competitive location, and it will be my chance to practice the logistical elements of triathlon.

What does this all mean? It means that logging hours is my main focus. I must be ready to sustain aerobic activity for a really really long time on June 26, so building endurance is the priority. Luckily for me, it also happens to be one of my favorite things to do. :) At various other times, I will also work on speed, strength, and technique. Closer to the race, my primary focus will be race-specific and I will do workouts that have me running immediately after biking as well as simulating race conditions.  

It's funny, the difference a few hours makes. On December 31st, Ironman training still seemed a year away. I woke up on January 1st and--smack--there it was staring at me in the face. So on that note, off I go to the gym!

Here's to a happy, healthy 2011

Happy New Year everyone!! I hope this finds you warm and safe. I am so excited for 2011 I can't stand it. Two big things happen this year: Ironman, of course, and this also is the year I turn 40. My plan is to celebrate my 40th birthday feeling better than I ever have. So far, so good.

As we enter the new year, I wanted to share with you another of my goals. Part of my Ironman training includes an Olympic-distance triathlon in Boulder on June 4th. This race will be an important piece to the whole picture: as my only pre-Ironman triathlon, it will be my "warm-up" race, my chance to dial everything in and practice my race prep and execution, as well as my transition strategies.

More importantly, this race provides me an opportunity to contribute to something near and dear to me. This triathlon is part of the "Tri for your cause" series and, as such, requires all athletes to raise money for a charity of their choice. I have chosen the Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation. Several years ago, my father was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, cancer of the plasma. Since then, I have witnessed his very aggressive treatment, a significant part of which is two stem-cell transplants. He's still fighting the disease, and researchers continue to work to discover not just the most effective treatments, but hopefully, someday, a cure.

Aside from supporting him from afar (he lives in Florida), I can raise money for this cause. I have set my fundraising goal for this triathlon at $200--an amount that's both very achievable and respectful of the less-than-stellar economy we currently live in. I realize that many of us have little room for donations such as these. My request for your contribution comes from love, not from presumption. If you can give, it is deeply appreciated. If you are unable to, it is completely understood.

For a secure way to make donations in my name online, go to my page: http://www.yourcausesports.org/members/fundraising/?id=478. If you have any questions about this race, about the MMRF, or about donating in other ways, do not hesitate to drop me an email.

Wishing you all a healthy start to your 2011. Thank you, everyone.