A Long Way To Go

Ironman triathlon training is taking up a good bit of time these days.  I'm swimming, biking, running and lifting 12-14 hours a week, working on building a solid aerobic base for when the training begins in ernest in late February leading up to a June race.  This is such a crazy sport, the time and monetary investment is massive, and it changes your entire life.  Everything is effected; diet, sleep, job, family.  You live in a constant state of mild soreness and fatigue.

Its not the fact that a triathlete can race 140.6 miles in 10 hours that is impressive, but rather he or she has juggled every aspect of their life over the preceding several months to successfully get themselves to the starting line.  The race, as many experienced athletes will attest to, is actually a relief.  In the forefront of your mind you know that it's the last time you will have to don a pair of goggles and dive into early morning cold water, or worry about maintaining the appropriate running pace for a very long time. For now, at least, that relief is far away.  There is a ton of work to do between now and late June.  Heading out on a bike ride now before it starts to snow. 

Boone Soon

I'm in the process of putting together a springtime cycling trip to Boone, North Carolina.  I plan to spend about a week riding through what I believe is one of the most special places on the east coast.  I've been to Boone a few times in the past and have always been struck by the natural beauty of the surrounding area.  What sealed the deal for me was in Lance Armstrong's biography, It's Not About the Bike, he spoke of riding in Boone after his comeback from cancer, stating that it was Boone that made him fall in love with cycling again. I'm excited.

The Path To Balance

At about midnight last night I awoke from a deep sleep, realizing that my personal journey towards a balanced life is all but complete. I laid in the dark and smiled to myself, happy with the path that I had just walked and continue on today.

"Balance" for me has always been an equilateral triangle with each point representing the Physical, the Spiritual, and the Intellectual.  I seek to spend equal amounts of effort developing the points so that the triangle remains in relative balance.  How many people do we know that are superior athletes, but spiritually or ethically bankrupt; or highly educated that cannot run a single mile?

For me...

The Physical:
My absolute basic level of fitness that I seek to maintain is the ability to, at any given time:

• Ride a solo century on my triathlon bike in under 6 hours
• Swim 3,500 yards in open water with little effort
• Run 8-minute miles all day long

The Spiritual:
My spiritual point of the triangle has always been the most difficult to maintain.  Lately I've worked hard to bolster my previous shortcomings:

• Daily Buddhist practice of sitting or zazen
• Zen Buddhist retreats
• Fly fishing
• Art, specifically photography
• Reading both Buddhist and Christian works, identifying commonalities and considering the differences.

The Intellectual:
My intellectual pursuits are often my favorites and generally pertain to medicine and language training:

• The Difficult Airway Course
• 12-Lead EKG Interpretation
•  Pathophysiology - Never far away
• Blogs and Podcasts that I follow: EMCrit, Dr. Smith's EKG Blog, and ResusME.
• Maintaining my Spanish at an acceptable level, while developing my Japanese, Arabic, and soon Mandarin Chinese.
• I have planned a Ph.D. sometime in my future

Back In The Saddle

The weather is going to be nice in Atlanta this week.  I'm destined to take my tri-bike and start putting some very early springtime miles on it.  I've been off my bike for the past handful of months and I feel that it's time to reacquaint myself with the saddle again.  There's nothing quite like mile after mile of cycling along country roads, alone with your thoughts, pushing yourself to just the right amount of pain.

As April approaches I'm planning a trip to Boone, North Carolina to get some needed hill work in.  A number of years ago I read Lance Armstrong's biography and took note of the fact that it was riding in Boone that made him to fall in love with cycling again after coming back from cancer.  Since then, I've always considered Boone a stop on the spiritual cycling path.  Looking forward to it.

The Quickening

Michael Jordon used to speak of being "in the zone", the perfect game where superior performance came effortlessly, everything just clicked.  On occasion I have those workouts where it can only be described as magical.  Yesterday's was one of those.  A 12-mile run through the woods in the rain, only the sound of the water falling from the trees, the route partially hidden by mist up ahead.  Zen practitioners call it being "in the moment", when you're there and there's nothing else, and also "everything else".  The senses are alive as you become part of the forest, you are your environment not separate from it.  It's an experience that is difficult to put down in words, at least for me, but once you feel it you crave it's return.

Off to Turkey today; Istanbul, Antalya, and Side

Random Thoughts From A Himalayan Cave

Door knocker on the door of a Chicago Chinese restaurant

I've spent the last several days pretty much by myself, which is generally a good thing for me. I'm not a very social person, and would do very well in a Himalayan cave meditating for eight years. To that end, here are some random thoughts.

- I don't like zoos. While I understand the purposes; money, research, and display. I think we as humans can do better.

- BRicks (Bike-Run, ick!) workouts are the bane of most triathletes, and I dislike them as much as anybody, but they're a necessary evil for me this year as my bike-to-run transitions suck.

- I need to go to the zendo tomorrow morning and sit… a lot.

- Matt Damon's Green Zone is a good movie, and I enjoyed it very much. I like Matt as an actor.

- Paramedics need to think clinically and have a good medical reason to "collar and board" a patient. Mechanism alone is not enough.

- Chain sushi restaurants tend to be not very authentic and not very good.

- I like Barnes & Noble's electronic book reader, the Nook very much. I'm an Amazon Kindle owner, but am considering trading up.

- I don't understand why funeral processions have the right of way and are allowed to inconvenience hundreds of people along the route. Certainly this wasn't the deceased's last wish? I want to pass the deceased in my car, not drive over him.

- I need to go fly fishing but the Chattahoochee River is too swollen with all of the recent rains. I'm not a good enough fly fisherman to lure a trout out of a fast-flowing, murky river.

- I need to call my parents.

No Straight Lines Before June

 

It's time to get back on the bike again, as I haven't been in the saddle since I dismounted my Cervelo back in August during Ironman.  At that time I handed my bike off to a race volunteer and quietly bid it good riddance after spending so many long months it it. 

My yearly bike training always starts with the same routine; working through Troy Jacobson's Spinerval training DVDs.  I've found that there is nothing better to get you to come out crazy-strong in the Springtime than the Competition Spinerval series coupled with some work in the weight room. Of course the issue is that once I finally do get on the road my bike handling skills are rubbish.  I'm able to maintain some very high wattage but can't ride in a straight line until June.  Let the adventure begin.

Guinness and Atrophy

I completed my last triathlon of the '09 season sixty days ago, and at the end of the race I was not only physically exhausted but mentally burnt out as well. The endless days and weeks of 2-3 workouts a day had taken their toll, and as I crossed the finish line I told myself that I was done, that the next workout will be sometime in January.

For the last two months I've eaten anything that I wished, tipped back a bunch of Guinness and Laphroaig, and worked on other interests like bagpiping and getting my private pilots license. Last night I had a huge bowl of cookie-dough ice cream, the tan lines have all faded and the hair on my legs has returned with abandon.

This morning before dawn I laced up the running shoes for the first time, and headed out on a run that two months ago would have been so inconsequential that I would have passed on it; 4 miles nice and easy. I was shocked to see how much my condition had atrophied in the weeks that I had taken off. My knees hurt due to the muscle imbalance in my legs, my core was all over the map, and leg muscles were string-tight threatening to pull at any moment. At 46-years old I can see now how fleeting physical condition is.

Five to six hours a week; that's what I've now promised myself until January, enough to stop the free-fall of my physical condition. If not, it'll be a long, painful haul back into race shape for an early season half-Ironman.

#2363 - Final Thoughts

Taken by my wife at the finish line.

Final thoughts on Ironman. I completed the event in the top third of the field, and am happy with that. It was a long and painful day, especially running the marathon after putting out so much effort on the 112-mile bike route. I struggled with every mile, and they seemed to get longer and longer as the race wore on. In the end, I was happy to cross the finish line, to see my wife and five-year old son waiting for me, along with a few thousand other people.

The best part for me is that my triathlon season is finally over. My next scheduled work out is some time in... January. I've spent countless hours training for this season, lately putting in 4-6 hours a day. I'm burnt out and need a break. I hear a set of bagpipes calling me along with their friend, a pint of Guinness.

On a side note:

Jeff posted a comment about Ironman saying, "That's crazy, I could never do that". Sorry buddy but I have to disagree with you. With a certain amount of training anyone can complete the event. Sure you may not win the race, but winning is really a relative thing anyways. Your only opponent is not the girl or guy ahead of you on the bike course, but rather it's the little, nagging voice in your head that is telling you, "This is crazy, I can never do this".

#2363 - Part II

A worn bike rack sticker marks the location of a previous racer in an Ironman past. I wonder how Tod did?

Fifteen hours before race start, athletes begin to disappear from the streets. No longer are they jetting about on their bikes or running the last few miles. Training is over, it's time to rest, to prepare for the mental and physical challenge that is most rapidly approaching. Most are shrinking within themselves, looking for moments of peace and tranquility.

The Ironman roadies are working to transform Louisville's Fourth Street into the the race's finishing line. Streets are closed off, tents, flags, lights, carpets, music, all worthy of a Hollywood movie production. I looked at the worn carpet that marks the finishing line and couldn't help but wonder how many people have struggled to cross over it. How many people have spent months and months of their lives working and training; countless solo miles, following the endless black line in the pool, all to just arrive at this very same place?

A quiet night tonight. 0430 will come early enough.

#2363

I'm bib number 2363, out of some 2,500 triathletes that have arrived at the shores of the Ohio river here in Louisville, Kentucky. In addition to the racers there are almost 3,000 people volunteering to help out with the race, and an untold number of family members, well-wishers, merchants, and the just plan curious. In total Ironman is a huge spectacle that begins days before the starting gun goes off.

An athlete gives his bike a nervous final check-out.

24-hours before the race begins the city streets and hotels are filled with lycra-clad athletes doing their final tune-ups. Some of the best aero-dynamic carbon fiber that money can buy is zipping up and down the roads, propelled by lean, tan athletes that have poured their heart, soul and wallet into the last several months of training. I joked with one of the locals that, "Yup, Ironman has come to town, and you won't find a single hairy leg for five miles around".

I'm nervous, but then again I've always been that way before any athletic event. I used to be just as anxious before I took my "every six month" Army physical fitness test back when I was serving. I know that once I get into the water and find my stroke that it will become just another long training day for me, albeit with 2,500 of my closest friends.

More to follow.

Practice swim in the Ohio river. I opted not to do this as the conditions of the river are "questionable". It's not complicated... just follow the big orange buoys.

Anger Into Wattage

Street performer in San Francisco

I had an interesting situation today, wrought with all sorts of "teachable moments". Let me preface by saying that triathlon is a lonely sport, it's participants spend endless hours training and competing alone. Sure you can run or ride with other people, but chances are they're not doing the exact workout that you need to do, so you inevitably head out on you're own. Swimming just speaks for itself. Having said that, when triathletes get an opportunity to socialize, they normally jump at it. Contact with other endurance geeks fosters conversation about upcoming races, the latest in lightweight aerodynamic gadgets, and comparing training plans.

Today I was out on a solo bike ride and nearing my turn around point on the out-and-back course. Just then, three triathletes came ripping the other way in a tight, fast-moving pace-line. Why triathletes are in a paceline is another issue, as it's illegal in races. My initial thought was to try to catch them and maybe have a chat that would make the remaining miles fly by. As they disappeared up the road I heard a male voice make some snide comment about a piece of gear that I was wearing. I was testing out a new aerodynamic helmet in preparation for a coming race. I felt the pangs of resentment start to rise, but pushed on to see if I could catch up.

Let me say, a solo rider trying to catch a well-organized paceline is no easy feat. The three riders can ride at a high speed using 30% less energy than it would take a soloist ride at the same speed. Nonetheless, after a mile or so I finally grabbed the rear wheel of the trail rider. I noticed that the rider was a female, and so was the lead rider. The middle guy was fit looking, and I identified him as Mr. Snide Comment.

I decided to play nice and introduced myself; I asked if I could join the effort. The guy, to my utter amazement, shook his head, "No". I have never in twenty years of cycling been told that I couldn't join a ride. It's sacrilegious not to allow a lone rider to join a group. The protocol is that if the group is faster, than the rider will eventually fall off the back. If the rider is faster, he/she will eventually push ahead of the group. To be told "no" is unheard of.

One of the girls spoke up and pleaded to Mr. Comment to let me join. He replied that I could if I went to the front and pulled the three of them. On that, I went to the front... and just kept on going. The group fell off my wheel and I contently left them in the hills. I watched my anger seethe and my ego swell as the three of them just couldn't keep up. For the first time I rode with anger, turning it into useful wattage and speed. I struggled with my anger, recognized it, letting it force my pedals around faster and faster. I'm not sure if I did the right thing or not, but it felt good nonetheless.

My Motivation

A runner fights his way across the San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge.

Ever see those motivational posters with the inspiring photography and pithy sayings? I've always given them a passing glance, testing them, but never really embracing any of them. It got me thinking the other day of what would be my own motivational saying; something that resonates with me? I think if I had to choose I would steal a quote from Lance Armstrong, "Pain is temporary, quitting is forever". I've often thought of this during races when it would be so easy to let off the gas and end the pain, or at least temporarily relieve it. As I suspect with Lance as well, it's gotten me through some tough spots, allowing me to persevere and push through to the very end.

Time Management

Triathlon season is going full-force. The immense amount of training is taking up almost all of my free time; what little is left over from working on a 911 ambulance over 40 hours a week. My family is being supportive, seeing me wander into the house after working all night, and then heading off to a scheduled workout. I'm not truly sure why I do this, maybe I need to look deeper into my motivations. It shouldn't be hard to do, I'm not all that complicated.

Restlessness

My first race of the '09 triathlon season is tomorrow morning; the gun goes off at 7:30 on a 70.3-mile endurance event. I'm jittery, I always am before a race regardless of its size or importance.

I started preparing for this season back in November, now all of a sudden its staring me in the face. The normal questions run through my mind and will likely cause a fitful sleep tonight. Did I train enough? Could I have done things better? Is all of my equipment present and in good order? These worries will plague me right up until race start. Once the gun goes off and I'm moving through the water towards the first buoy it'll all be on automatic pilot. The hard part is over, now it's time to just let muscle memory do it's thing.

My biggest concern is leaving my race out there on the bike course. In other words hammering so hard on the bike that I have nothing left for the 13 plus-mile run. I've done this twice before, and frankly its a rookie mistake. I'd love to finish with a strong run, but it means having my ego cede a bit on the bike. That'll be my biggest challenge. We'll see.

Post Script: I went 5:29 for the race, and placed very high in my age group. I may have even won it, I'm not sure. The swim was a mess as I haven't done ANY open water swimming and was drifting all over the place. The bike was very fast and by far my strongest event, even on the extremely hilly course. As predicted I had a hard time tempering myself on the bike and paid for it dearly with one of the most painful and agonizing runs of my triathlon career.

All-in-all I was happy with the race as my season opener. Next weekend I race in Peachtree City, Georgia.

Attachment To Carbon Fiber

This is a tough one; attachment. In short, the Buddha said that all human suffering results from attachments; not just attachment to things, but also to ideas, points of view, concepts, etc... I'm attached to my bike, which has actually been a good thing as my new hunk of aerodynamic-molded carbon fiber has allowed me to examine my attachments more closely.

The thought of crashing, theft, flipping off the top of the car while driving down the highway have all resulted in excessive worry. The amount of money that I spent equals guilt, and the recognition of my attachment has spawned embarrassment. All of these things are forms of human suffering.

All of this is not to say that Buddhists shouldn't have nice bikes, but rather care and contemplation should be given to the attachments that they may form. This is my current struggle.

Beat Me, Please

A sea lion suns itself on San Francisco's Pier 39. In retrospect, probably not the right image for the title of this post.

I've been an athlete for as long as I can remember, and all of that time I've been balancing my athletic performance against my ego. At times, especially when I was younger, I was wildly unsuccessful and let my ego run amok much to my detriment as a person and a friend.

When given a choice between competing or practicing with those that are better than I was or playing with a group that is not quite as fast or strong, I always chose the later, simply because it made my ego feel better. I remember one evening getting in the pool with the Masters Swimming program at the University of Miami, the pool was filled with ex-Olympic and competitive NCAA swimmers. Needless to say I got my ass handed to me, and never returned; my ego got bent. If I had stuck it out I would surely be a better swimmer today for it.

At 45-years old, I can see what's happening now. If my ego gets slapped around a little; well, that's a good thing. It deserves the beating.

I Can Smell A Battlefield

Serenity next to the river.

I spent the weekend in Knoxville visiting my family. On the way back to Bloomington I decided to stop off at Louisville and take a look at the venue to the Ironman Louisville triathlon coming up in August of this year. Ironman Louisville will be my biggest race this year, and I wanted to "walk the ground" as it were. Strolling along the river-side swim exit I was reminded of George C Scott's line in the movie Patton, "I can smell a battlefield". I tried to envision the endless rows of bikes lined up on the shore; tens of thousands of spectators, volunteers, and athletes; lights; blaring music; the finishing line; the spectacle that is Ironman. I'm sure that on race day I won't even recognize the serene environment that I strolled through today.

Making The Best Out Of...

Getting ready to head out on a ride.

I've spent all winter on an indoor bicycle trainer, hammering out miles with the assistance of Troy Jacobson's Spinnerval DVDs. The result is that I'm crazy strong on a bike, but can't ride in a straight line to save my life. My bike handling skills are at best, atrocious, and at worst, dangerous.

I braved the blackening skies this afternoon to join a group ride around Bloomington. Two people showed up; a guy on a 1980s spray-painted Cannondale and wearing Ho Chi Ming slippers, and another rider who was working hard to drop a hundred pounds or so. Now I'm not a bike snob, and have been dusted by all sorts of people, but I was really struggling to find a graceful way out of this gathering. The thought of getting caught in the rain, which was definitely coming, with these two lads and being lost miles from home was not very inviting. No good, I was committed and I was going to ride.

The result was just as I predicted; rain, lost, and not a lot else. I decided to use the opportunity, instead of grumbling, to work on my weakness, bike handling. At low speeds I worked on staying in a straight line, breaking and cornering. Even though we barely broke 15 mph, I got something out of what would normally be a bad situation. I'm happy that I did it.

College Again

Bike porn: My new Cervelo P2 set up in my room in Bloomington. It'll be trainer rides for a while. It's snowing out here today.

I just arrived in Bloomington, Indiana for a paramedic course that I need to take. Bloomington is a college town, home of the University of Indiana, and I'm staying at a large apartment building that houses hundreds of college students. I ended up getting a sub-let off a kid that was going abroad for the semester and needed to get out from under his lease. Subsequently I'm sharing a suite with three students. I can't tell you what an educational experience THIS is going to be.

Last night one of the 20-something students told me that he was going to travel Europe after he graduated so that he could enjoy the experience "before he got too old". "You're kidding me, right?"

The medic course is going to take up the vast, vast majority of my time, demanding 14-16 hours every day. Added on to that are twice daily triathlon workouts amounting to 14 hours a week. I don't expect to see much of my student room mates, but I'm sure there will be the occasional entertaining episode. More to follow.