Race Report: Emporia Spring Migration Tri

I'm positive that I thought of some clever way to intro this post, but I can't recollect what it was, at the moment. So let's just jump right in.

Swim: 400 m, 7:50
This was slower than I expected (slower than my seed time). The swim worked like this: we all lined up by swim seed and they sent us off on 30 second intervals. And there were about 170 people. Which means that the last person started more than an hour after the person. Crazy, huh? I was seeded number 50, and I felt pretty good about that; it was cool to head towards the front of the line. Unfortunately, most of the athletes I coach were seeded way farther back, which meant that I didn't get to see them swim.

How did the swim feel? Easy. I'm sure it didn't feel easy while I was doing it, but in retrospect it certainly was. At the Central YMCA triathlon, I felt like I was pushing the absolute limits of my pace for 400 meters. But this felt like a steady, aerobic pace. In short, I wasn't really racing. Am I happy with my time? Yeah, I feel okay about it. But the lackadaisical attitude--one that viewed this race more as training than racing (and there's nothing wrong with that)--during the swim was a theme for my day.

Bike: 12.4 mi, 41:27, 17.5 MPH
I'll get right to it: I kicked ass on the bike. 17.5 MPH isn't that fast, really, but I can say most definitely that I laid everything on the line on the bike. I kept a high cadence and a challenging gear through the whole thing, even into the 20 MPH headwinds we experienced after the turn-around. I felt like a frickin' bad-ass. And I suppose that's probably all I need to say about that.

I also nailed my transitions. Managed to start and end with the pedals on the bike, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who did that at this race.

Run: 3.1 mi, 28:17, 9:07/mile
This was the real challenge. The course was exceptionally hilly, and I do not do hills well. I'm not built for hills, and I don't have an opportunity to really train on hills (except for the sledding hill in Sedgwick County Park and the dam at Lake Afton). I rounded the corner off of the Emporia State campus and asked the police officer at the corner, "There are no more hills, right?" Ha!

Again, I felt like I wasn't really racing; even in the back of my head, I kept saying "It's just a tempo run." But it wasn't just a tempo run; it was a race. And I kept trying to break through the "race to train" mentality, but I don't think I ever really did; I just managed to find a slightly faster training pace.

But it was a pleasant surprise to get to the end and realize that what i thought was a 12-minute pace turned out to be 9:00! Imagine what I could have done if I had been trying!

Final: 1:17:36, 1st F 20-24, 7th F overall
I could not have been happier with these results. I could have been happier with my performance, for sure, but these results made me kind of forget about the fact that I didn't perform to my full potential. Because it was a little training race, the first of the season. And for me to do so well in the competition when I wasn't even peaking . . .

Well, let's just say I'm very optimistic about this season.

Pre-Race

I am so excited.

I suppose this should be obvious, but the prospect of the first real race (even though it's in an indoor pool) of the season has focused my workouts in a way I've never before experienced. I was so focused, the second half of this week (I was still in recovery mode until Wednesday) I sort of killed my cycling classes. Seriously, Thursday night, all I could think was, "Hard as you can; c'mon this is the last chance to get a really solid workout before Emporia." And by the end, I think some of the people in the Group Ride class were crying. We all had little puddles under my bike, anyway. At any rate, I think I made half the class wish I had a race every weekend, while the other half is probably hoping I never race again.

It's always an interesting experience, dragging a dozen people along mostly on your own energy. Empowering.

Talk to you after the race!

Beginners' Guide: Finding Your Focus

It's a lot to deal with, isn't it? You sign up for a race, you start running around the block, attending bike classes at your local gym, struggling across the local pool in 25- and 50-yard bursts . . . And you're getting the hang of it. You're starting to feel really good about finishing that first race. You're pretty sure that you can do it.

But you're also trolling around the internet like a madman. Madwoman. Crazy person. Whichever politically correct moniker you prefer. You're looking for articles, blogs, race reports, collecting ever scrap of advice that could possibly help you. And you're starting to feel a little bit overwhelmed.

I had the same problem, and I'm realizing that I've passed on the same thing to the beginners I coach in my club. It's difficult to separate out what resources are beneficial for the beginner, what workouts will be helpful for them, what to tell them without completely freaking them out.

What I'm discovering (I think) is that it's vitally important to find a single thing on which to focus. This holds true for more experienced athletes, as well; for example, my single biggest goal for this year is to place in my age group at Shawnee Mission. That is the primary driving force behind my training. Notice I said "primary"; it's not like I'm working harder in every tough workout by chanting "Shawnee Mission Shawnee Mission Shawnee Mission." I'm also focused on building mental toughness, harnessing more discipline, building a stronger aerobic base; I have a handful of goals that are jostling in the back of my head during every workout.

I propose that the difference between the first-timer and the experienced triathlete--even a newly-minted, fresh-from-the-first-race green horn--is that the athlete with experience knows what they want and need. Athletes fresh from their first race will know exactly what I'm talking about. As you're running the last miles of your race, or right after you cross the finish line, you think, "This is what I want to do differently next time."

That next time is your focus. Until you've got that focus, all of your internet trolling, your message board questions, your desperate search through the library to find a triathlon book that was published more recently than 1998 is nothing more than guesswork. You might know roughly what you need to do (i.e. learn to swim), but as far as the kind of nuanced training suggestions you get from training guides (i.e. setting up complicated schedules based on percentages of time spent in each of five training zones) will be pretty useless to you.

With that in mind, I'd like to suggest the following focal point for the n00b: get through that first race. I absolutely guarantee that after that first race you'll have a much better sense of what you need to do. After that first race you can work on taking flying leaps onto your bike, setting up your transition area just so, shaving off seconds on the bike with advanced aerodynamic techniques (not to mention shaving your legs, men), and finding the perfect suit to wear.

Also keep in mind that even the first Ironman athletes were pretty dorky (see some of the early Kona experiences in Becoming an Ironman for a perfect example). None of us are going to laugh at you if you're wearing basketball shorts, your race shirt, and your son's bike helmet; I've been passed by people dressed exactly thus while riding a beat-up mountain bike--believe me, there was no laughing when they pushed past me up the hills at Pumpkinman a couple years ago.

My point is that you just need to get a race under your belt, then take it from there. Then after you've done that first race, post a race report somewhere online; not only will you probably get helpful responses from fellow athletes (and a big welcome to the community), you'll also have a better sense from writing out your experience what you want to do next time.

Triathlon is a sport that rewards attention to detail and dropping big bucks on equipment, but almost all of us did it the hard way first. If you read Becoming an Ironman (which I highly recommend), you realize that everyone--even the most elite competitors--started at square one, not knowing this sport or how to handle it. And there's something beautifully poignant about that initial confusion, the first few tentative steps into what is a very complex and intimidating world. Think of it as a coming-of-age.

And as rites of passage go, it sure beats a bris.

Moments in Tri

Note: I was going to title this entry "Moments in Tri-me," but I thought that might be just a little too much.

We have some pretty amazing moments in our sport, captured on video and preserved for posterity. Most famous? The 1982 Kailua Kona Ironman where Julie Moss collapsed 30 yards from a first-place finish.


The drama of this moment catapaulted the sport into the public eye, prompting millions (just kidding; at that point, there were probably only a couple thousand crazies) to internally ponder, "I wonder if I could do that."

Great moment in the sport. No question about it.

Then there's the Dave Scott/Mark Allen "Ironwar" of 1989 (and I know that the commentary on these is inane and annoying; sorry).



You guys might already know that I really enjoy watching the ITU World Cup races; it's a great way to take in the sport as a spectator (because Ironman isn't terribly spectator-friendly). My favorites to watch are the battles between Vanessa Fernandez and Emma Snowsill. Example:




No doubt about it; the visual stimulation to our triathlon sensibilities is pretty well fleshed out, electronically speaking.

Now you wanna see my favorite moment, the greatest moment ever in triathlon videography?



Now doesn't that make you want to hop out of your seat, a little? Doesn't it make you pull up your calendar and check again how many days/weeks/months you have until your next event?

Isn't that kind of excitement what it's all about?

I love this video because it captures so completely the reason I still do this crazy sport. It's exciting. "How many minutes to go? Two? EEEE!" It might be the challenge, the bombastic, "Heck, I can do that if she can!" attitude that drew me to the sport in the first place, but it's that intense excitement, the endless attention to detail to eke out every bit of speed and skill, the constant nitpicking and readjustments to training the schedules, the sleepless nights before a race . . .

That's what keeps me in this sport.

Do you have a favorite moment in triathlon history, be it video, audio, print, or personal? Share in the comments!

The Triathlete's Non-Sand Cookbook

Props to SpeedRacer for her recent foray into a thriving lifestyle. Like (I would estimate) many triathletes, Speedy would be totally willing to eat sand (or at least food that tastes like sand) for the next ten years if it meant she could be competitive, like really competitive (actually, come to think of it, how competitive, Speedy? Like qualifying for Kona competitive or like qualifying for the Olympics competitive?).

But Speedy is a much better person than I am. I would much rather not eat sand and be slow. But I think it's because I believe that it's possible to have the best of both worlds--that is, you can eat well for your body while still enjoying your food. To be sure, this attitude takes some readjustment of your taste buds. Personally, I can have a great time with a bowl of brown rice and some steamed vegetables without even salt and pepper. But I know that not everyone has such a highly developed palette (read: boring taste buds), so I submit a few of my favorites for your non-sandy dining pleasure.

For breakfast, I mix plain yogurt (if you get vanilla or some other flavor, check the ingredients for nasty additives like high fructose corn syrup) with a handful of berries (I currently have fresh blue and black) and a handful of nuts (currently almonds). The berries lend sweetness, the almonds add crunch. The yogurt is an awesome source of complete protein (sorry, vegans) and vitamin B12 (very important for athletes!). Bonus is that it's very filling.

My new favorite thing to take for lunch is a tomato soup (actually, it's kind of like gazpacho, now that I think about it) I make by combining one can of tomatoes (the kind that are pre-seasoned, either with Mexican or Italian seasonings) with whatever frozen vegetables I have around. I cook it until it's hot and the vegetables are cooked, then eat it. It's a great way to get a ton of vegetables, and it tastes awesome. You don't have to add any additional spices, either.

I also really enjoy making wasabi peas by microwaving some frozen peas then mixing in some wasabi and soy sauce. Delicious. I obviously use quite a lot of frozen vegetables. Not raw, sorry; if I'm going to go raw for lunch, I just eat a salad. Always keep ingredients for a salad around. Quicker and easier and more healthful even than whole grains.

I can't think of anything quick and easy that I do for dinner (by the time I get home from work, it doesn't make sense for me to eat a full meal, anyway), but I'll give you a quick recipe for a snack: green smoothie. Mix whatever fruit you have around in a blender (this morning I used an orange and a handful of frozen strawberries), adding enough water to get your preferred consistency. Then throw in 1/2 cup to a cup of leafy greens--I prefer spinach or romaine lettuce; Kale tastes funny to me. The color will be unpleasant, to say the least. Also, be very sure to add enough water to thin it out; otherwise you will want to vomit with every sip. Bonus points for adding superfood powders like spirulina, chlorella, maca, etc. (this morning I used some hemp protein powder). The key for the smoothie is to start with a good base of fruit that you'll enjoy.

For more ideas for healthy, quick, and easy recipes, check out Ben Greenfield's article on Trifuel. Those are all great ideas as well. Sound off with your favorite quick, easy, and nutritious recipes in the comments.

Uphills

About 1/2 a mile from my place of work, there is a hill. Please understand the significance of this statement; I live in central Kansas. This might be the only hill within a 5 mile radius (not including highway on-ramps and the sledding hill in Sedgwick County Park). It's not a particularly big hill or a particularly long hill. But this morning it was enough to set me off. I was driving up this tiny hill after lunch when my mind shot out of my body and onto the race course at Shawnee Mission.

The Shawnee Mission Triathlon bike course is somewhat notorious in these parts, a gruesomely hilly 4.5 mile loop which competitors (on the long course) must repeat four times--a quartet of cardiac-arresting climbs, followed by a brief 1/2 mile of flat terrain before repeating the whole thing. Okay, really it's not that bad. The total elevation gain is like 400-450 feet per loop (1800 total feet climbed), and I've definitely raced more difficult courses than that (Pumpkinman, for one, and soon Wildflower). But it feels like a lot of climbing, especially when you already know what's waiting for you on the next three loops.

All of which is beside the point. Because when I was driving up that teeny tiny baby hill this afternoon, I wasn't thinking about how difficult all that climbing will be, or how much it's going to hurt, or how lame I am for thinking 400 feet of elevation gain is even that much. In that moment, I got that sinking, bubbly feeling in my stomach that's sort of like being slightly too buzzed.

It's the feeling of simultaneously thinking "I can't believe I get to do this again!" and "Why the hell am I doing this again?" It's the same feeling that you have the night/week/month before a race when you know you need to sleep but you can't seem to. It's the feeling that makes you pace and posture and get to transition two and a half hours before the race starts.

It's the feeling that fills port-a-johns.

And it's here, already, more than three months away from Shawnee Mission, still two weeks out from my first race of the season.
I really want this one, guys; it's what it's all about, this year.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Podcast . . .

You know how difficult it is to do Tabata intervals on the bike by yourself? It's a frickin' pain in the butt. I did a set the other day, trying to balance my stopwatch so I could see it the whole time, trying to push through every interval when I was ready to stop after two, trying to look at the time through the pain.

So I thought I'd give my fellow cyclists a little help in this respect. Set your bike up on the trainer and get ready to work!

(For more on Tabata intervals see the following:
http://www.active.com/triathlon/Articles/Go-for-Broke-with-Tabata-Intervals.htm
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/8897392)

Tri Harder Podcast: Tabata Intervals

Looking for more workouts? Go here!

50 Degrees

First open water swim of the year! Woohoo! It was frickin' cold, so cold that when I put my face in I got an instant headache. Brainfreeze. But after I got warmed up, it felt pretty nice. And I finally got to use my new wetsuit (which works beautifully).

Quick Notes

Thanks for all the responses about the pain in my ass!  I saw a physical therapist today, who suspects that the problem is my SI joint, with unrelated pains coming from trigger points in my piriformis and gluteus medius.  Cool.  No bulging discs, no ruptured or torn anything . . . and I can still run (although he instructed me to start at a mile and gradually build up, mile by mile, over the next several weeks) and can still bike (but he told me to stay out of the aerobars), so all's well, right?  Oh, and I'm also not supposed to bend over at the waist.  So no more straight-leg deadlifts.  Anyway, that's that, and I'll go out for a mile run tomorrow (although it hardly seems worth it for a mile, eh?)

I booked my flight to sunny California for Wildflower tonight.  Anyone else going to be there?

This month is National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo)  Which isn't really related to this blog, but it's fun and I thought I'd throw it in.  My poetry lives over here (in small, very strong cages; I don't want it to get out), just in case you need a little break from the tri lifestyle (or tri-ing, if you like).

Be back in a few days with a surprise podcast!

The Tragic Tale of the Pain in my Ass

Sigh. In the past year, the only injury I've had has been rock-climbing related. I think that run is at an end.

Starting last Sunday, I had a little twinge in my back. I didn't think much of it. Figured I had slept wrong and it would go away in a couple of days. When I went out to run that day, I sort of ran out of steam after about a mile. I wasn't tired; I didn't hurt; I just sort of . . . stopped. When I got back to my house, my dad said, "Well, there was probably a reason why you didn't want to run today." Whatever, I thought. The reason is because I suck!

The next day, I went to Pawnee Prairie Park to try that long run again. I thought that it would be more interesting and therefore more bearable to run on trails than on the long, straight, boring dirt roads. And I was correct! After the first ten minutes, I felt right as rain and at peace with the whole world, running over a soft, grassy trail and enjoying the sounds of nature.

Then, after about 20 minutes, I felt a little niggling pain in my right buttock, just to the right of my sacrum. Ooh, I thought. I don't think that's good. So I slowed to a walk, trying to determine what that pain might possibly be. After a few minutes of walking, it went away, so I tried again. Nope, there it is again. And I continued in that manner for the next 20 minutes or so, experimenting with walking and running to see what caused pain and what didn't. It was never so bad that I couldn't have run through it; I could definitely have kept going through this pain. But it was the kind of pain that made me slow down because something is definitely wrong back there.

Tuesday I managed a twenty-mile bike workout without pain, but today's spinning class brought it out. I have an appointment with a physical therapist on Tuesday, so we'll see what's up. I think that it's sciatic pain brought on by knots and tension in my piriformis, but considering the alternative possible causes (i.e. a herniated disc), I think it's best to be sure. Until then, I will not be running or cycling (except for my Monday morning spin class).

And that is the tragic tale of the pain in my ass.

Ironmom: A Swim Workout to be Eager For

Thanks to Robin for this swim workout, which has kicked my butt for the last two weeks' interval swims, and has presented me with my fastest 100 splits EVER. Give it a try as you start to work speed and power into your swim sets:

6 x 100 Fast
2 x 50 Focus on technique
5 x 100 Fast
2 x 50 Technique
4 x 100 Fast
2 x 50 Technique
3 x 100 Fast
2 x 50 Technique
2 x 100 Fast
2 x 50 Technique

Robin didn't specify rest intervals, so here's what I did:

100 SKIPS (swim, kick, IM, pull, swim)

5x100 fast on 3:00 interval
2x50 for technique
4x100 fast w/ 1:00 RI (rest interval)
2x50 for technique
3x100 fast on 2:00 interval
2x50 for technique
2x100 fast w/ 1:00 RI

100 cool down

I think the 3:00 intervals were a little long; they enabled me to pretty much fully clear the lactate from my blood, starting each repeat fresh. The 1:00 rest interval was challenging; I saw my form and speed deteriorate over the course. The 2:00 intervals were frickin' hard, but I only lost :02 between the first and last repeat. I averaged about 1:38-1:39 on my splits, with the fastest being 1:35 and the slowest 1:44 (the very last 100). But the whole workout was fully awesome.

Thanks, Robin, for a wonderful workout!

Spinning Workout 18 - Rollers

A new workout! Woohoo!

SPINNING WORKOUT 18 - ROLLERS (45 minutes)

Higher (3:55): Pre
What I'm Trying to Say (3:23): Pre
Porcelain (4:01): Pre
Rockin' the Suburbs (4:29): Warm up with one light climb; +(5), up @ 2nd chorus; -(4), down @ last chorus
Karma (4:18): Moderate to high climb; +(5) @ beginning; +(6), up @ verse, stay quick; +(7), stay quick @ “I remember when”; -(6) @ chorus; +(7) @ “I remember when”; +(8) @ 2nd time through chorus to end
Hey Baby (3:29): Descent; quick break to coast and bring resistance back down; beginning in (3), easy, quick spin; small increase every 64 counts (just enough to feel a little change); at (4)-(5) @ chorus; in (4), easy, quick spin; small increase every 64 counts; (4)-(5) @ chorus; quick in (5) at chant; add a little bit @ last chorus; pick up tempo @ 2nd time through chorus
Can't Stop (4:29): Moderate climb; intro to cruise, build to cadence; in (5) or just a little above, find climbing rhythm; add a little at 2nd half of verse; +(6), up @ 2nd verse; add a little at 2nd half of verse; down in (6) @ bridge, guitar solo; +(7), up @ last verse
Way Away (3:22): Descent; coast @ intro; begin in (3), easy, quick spin; add a little resistance @ 2nd half of verse; pick up tempo @ chorus; back off tempo at MT; +(4) @ 2nd verse; add a little at 2nd half of verse; pick up tempo @ chorus; back off @ bridge; add a little resistance every 16 counts; pick up tempo @ chorus
Satin in a Coffin (2:37): Moderate climb; ++(6), up, @ verse; +(7) @ 2nd time through verse; standing recovery @ slow bit; follow rhythm as it builds speed; back off resistance, cruise as music fades
The Machine Gun Song (2:51): Descent; in (4), match cadence; +(5), up @ chorus; -(4), down @ 2nd chorus; +(5) @ bridge; up @ next verse, stay up until end
Everlong (4:11): Descent; in (3), build to cadence; add a little at full entrance; add a little more every 32 beats during verse; don't add at MT; add every 32 beats during verse; +(5), up @ chorus; repeat sequence; rest during quiet interlude; build during song build; +(5), up @ last chorus
We're Not Gonna Take It (3:35): Moderate climb; stay in (5), down, quick; +(6), up @ chorus; down @ 2nd verse; +(7), up @ 2nd chorus; -(6) @ guitar solo; +(7) @ last chorus; -(6) @ fade
Carbon Monoxide (3:10): Moderate to hard climb; find rhythm in (6), standing; sit, maintain rhythm (adjust resistance if necessary) @ 2nd verse; +(6), up @ chorus; -(5), down, at quiet part; +(6), up @ chorus
I Ain't Saying my Goodbyes (3:43): Hard climb; cruise during intro; find rhythm in (6), up, @ full instrumental intro; add a touch @ 2nd time through verse; +(7) @ chorus; option to climb seated @ instrumental break; +(8), everyone up @ chorus; extra credit addition @ “you don't get upset,” stay consistent
Are You Gonna be my Girl (3:39): Cool down; cruise @ beginning; if you want to spin out quick on the descent, also acceptable
Somewhere Only We Know (3:57): Post

Looking for more workouts? Go here!

Quick Catch Video

I had a few questions about how exactly one does the Quick Catch drill which has been so helpful for me. And what better way to demonstrate than in film? Also see Dave Scott's video, which is actually filmed on a pool deck with real swimmers (not in a bedroom with a webcam)! Any more questions about this drill (or any others), just let me know in the comments.

Go read Wil's insightful (and well-written) post.  Then come back here.

I've mentioned before that I'm not ready to tackle Ironman, yet.  I believe there will be a time for me to take my training to that level, but it's not now.

And looking ahead to that time when I will inevitably face a long day of hard work . . . looking even beyond that to when I have that day--whether it be twelve hours or seventeen--behind me . . .

I wonder what comes next.

After rising to what is arguably the greatest challenge of our age--the most demanding, the most grueling, the most gut-wrenchingly humbling--after conquering that, what's left?  Where do I go from there?

I think I go back to whatever it was I did before I started running.

I don't mean running in a literal sense.  I mean that there were things in my life that I was confronting before I got into this whole triathlon thing.  I faced pain.  I suffered.  I uncovered wounds I never knew I had.  I wrote angst-filled poetry.  For some reason, all of that got pushed to the background after my first triathlon.  Well, not immediately.  It sort of faded away.  I've been thinking that it's a result of moving into the workforce, that it's because I have a full-time job and don't have time for the angst, the philosophy, the exploration of my own self and soul.  But maybe it has more to do with sport than I realize.

Far be it from me to describe sport as escapism; that word is entirely too pejorative.  No, it's more like sport provides a training ground for me, a temporary place from which I can safely step back, observe the world, and learn.  It's teaching me discipline (self-control), endurance (perseverance), and the virtue of carrying on through suffering (or, as Wil said, carrying a cross).

Maybe that's why some athletes feel compelled to run double- or even triple-Ironmans (Ironmen?) . . . they just need a little more training.

Thanks to Wil for the insight and inspiration.  Feel free to add your thoughts in the comments.

Meh.

Sigh . . .



I need some inspiration.

Getting Over the Hump: Overcoming March Malaise

What a crappy time to feel lack of motivation in training. The weather's starting to warm up; the equinox has come; we have more daylight, more warmth, less wind . . . and here we are reading blogs, putting off the inevitable swim, bike, run, weights, core, technique, drills, tempo, flexibility . . . It's all so overwhelming, and we don't want to do it anymore.

It seems to be a common problem, this time of year: I know I'm feeling it; several of the athletes I coach have mentioned it; I have a friend in Germany who just e-mailed me about the same thing--March Malaise; March Melancholy; March Mediocrity; March Don't-Make-Me.

Why is that? Like I said, it's the perfect time of year for training. We should all be chomping at our respective bits, rather than dreading the next workout!

I think it's because we've been training for several months, all in base training. We've worked our asses off since January, but have seen precious little result. Plus, the long steady work is starting to take its toll; after all, there are only so many times you can listen to your Long Run Ultra-Hardcore Superstar Like-Macca Playlist before you go a little nutty (and know exactly which song comes next).

If you're starting to feel a little lackluster in your training week, here are my ideas for putting some spark back into your schedule:

• Throw in some intensity. Do some fartlek work in your long workouts. Fartlek means speed play. So play! Have fun with it! Include some short intervals in your tempo workouts. Add a big kick to the end of your workouts. If you've already worked through months of base work, some high-intensity training is not going to jeopardize your path to peak fitness.
  
• Cross train. I know, I know; that's kind of our whole sport. I mean try something new. Find a climbing wall (or, if you are so fortunate to live in an area that has those funny things called mountains, get out and climb); take yoga or pilates; play basketball or soccer with your kids. Shake things up a little.
• Get outside! Bonus points for going with friends.
• Buy gear. You know that as soon as you pick up new equipment, you can't wait to try it out. It can be something small and simple (and cheap!) like new goggles, a running cap, or . . . okay, I can't think of anything small, simple, and cheap that you would need on your bike. What can I say? It's an expensive sport.
• Reflect on your goals. This is the one that has by far been the most helpful for me. Take some time to think about what you want from this season and what it will take to get it. If you can remind yourself why you're working so hard and keep those things in front of you all the time, your motivation will strengthen. I recently finished a book that suggested writing down your goals and using a colored dot (or gold star, or anything similar) next to each goal. Let's say I place a red dot next to each goal on my goal sheet (I actually use a pocket-sized notebook for this). Then I put red dots on my toothpaste, my phone, my watch, my computer screen . . . Everywhere I look, I'm constantly reminded of my goals. Pretty soon, I think of my goals when I see a stop sign, or a red light. Even thinking about the technique gets me excited!
  
• Rest. This is a big one. Don't skimp on recovery. Lack of motivation and general ennui are some of the symptoms of overtraining. Remember that it's better to be 10% undertrained than 1% overtrained, come race day. If you've been pushing hard and your body starts to say, "Hey! I don't wanna do this!" then listen! One thing I've done in my recovery weeks is replace scheduled workouts with goal sessions; two birds with one stone (I know you triathletes love that multi-tasking stuff)!

My final recommendation would be to find a race, a local 10k or a casual weekend time trial, to get your competitive motor running and remind you why you love this sport. Because I'm pretty confident that if you didn't genuinely love this sport, you wouldn't have read this far.

Wildflower

I am officially registered for Wildflower.

And at $175 for race entry alone, I'm definitely committed.

Look for a video on quick-catch, a new cycling workout, and an article on getting over the hump in the next week.

Mental Training: A Break from your Regularly Scheduled Podcast

Well this is an experiment. I've read a few articles on mental training in the past few months. I'm guilty of not training the mental side of my racing hard enough, and I'm sure you are, too.

So I decided that guided meditation might work as a way to help us all prepare a little bit better for that next open water race.

Let me know whether or not this works for you: Is it helpful to have someone talk you through something we all should be doing anyway? What would make it more effective? More space between comments to absorb what I'm saying? Different conditions (i.e. a cold open-water swim, lake swim, river swim, swim through high surf, pool swim, etc.)? Corny Tai Chi music?

I would appreciate any feedback on this little project of mine. Let me know if you want more!

Mental Tri Training: Open Water Swim

"This audio file is a guided meditation for the use of open-water swimmers. In it, you will focus on relaxing and practicing good form. Try to visualize yourself completing each movement. The more real it is in your mind, the more beneficial the meditation will be in improving your neuromuscular performance in swimming."

Quick Catch

On my faster swim pace:

I've seen a 10-20 second decrease in the pace of my 100 yard repeats in the past month. I attribute the bulk of this new speed to one drill: the quick catch drill.

I spent all of last summer working on my balance on body position. I spent the off-season focusing on my recovery, entry, and breathing. By January, I was looking pretty good in the water. But I still wasn't going anywhere (at least nowhere fast). Focusing on my catch has allowed me to apply more power to the water using my arms, shoulders, back, and core. It took about a month of doing quick catch drills constantly--the first workout I tried it, I could only do about 30 meters before my arms were exhausted--for me to work the concept into my stroke, but it was definitely worth it.

I recommend doing the following sets (maybe not all at once, though) to help you incorporate the quick catch.

Drill Set 1
8x100 as
25 quick catch
25 fist swim
25 quick catch
25 regular swim
4x25 as fast as possible while maintaining the feel of quick catch

Drill Set 2
8x50 drill quick catch/50 swim (if you can't do quick catch for a full 50 to begin, do alternate 25 drill by 25 swim)
4x25 as fast as possible while maintaining perfect form

Drill Set 3
8x50 fingertip drag, incorporating the feel of quick catch (I love using fingertip drag as a base for focusing on other drill points, because it forces you to swim slowly with relaxed arms)
8x25 quick catch drill with high arm turnover

Quick catch drill isn't the secret to success for all mid-level swimmers, but it is the next step for many of the athletes I'm coaching currently, so I bet that it'll also apply to some of you.

For more on why quick catch is important, read this.

More Belief: Trusting in Trust

IM Able: Every Last Minute

This reinforces what I was saying last week; if you believe you can do something, you're going to push yourself through anything to bring your belief into the realms of reality, whether that's running a mile in under 4 minutes or finishing a 2-minute standing interval on the trainer.

Although I should amend with this: when I tell my spinning classes, "C'mon, just 30 seconds left! 30 seconds never killed anyone!" I secretly fear that someday 30 seconds is going to kill someone--or at least force me to prove my CPR and AED credentials.

Building Momentum

I feel like I'm flying.

Last week I absolutely nailed my swim workouts. Remember a couple weeks ago when I had to switch my workout plan from swimming 100s on a 2:00 interval to a 2:15 to give me enough time for recovery? This week I left comfortably on 2:00 for 4 repetitions, about :20 to spare between each one. I hit my 300s in 5:40, and my 25s in :19-:22. In the SwimEx this week, I swam 2.5 MPH. Also, my butterfly is starting to actually look like a swim stroke, instead of a drowning cat. I feel like a rock star.

The weather here was getting warmer and warmer, but then last week we had a ridiculous cold snap. I went out trail running on Saturday, despite the 20-degree weather (not factoring windchill). 4.2 miles in 40 minutes on the trails.

Yesterday, the cold snap broke. It was sunny and mid-50s with light wind from the north. I rocked out for 40 miles, averaging 16.9 MPH (which is only gonna go up, baby). Besides which, my ridiculous mid-arm bike jersey tan is back (whoo!).

This is exactly where I want to be, building up some solid momentum as I transition from base building to the higher-intensity, more demanding workouts of my build phase. This is the first year where I've really felt everything come together.

It's time to get excited for this season.

Workouts!

It's not quite a podcast yet, but here are a few things to keep you busy while Audigy is being finicky.

GMC Workout 3/5/08 - Rollers (Zone 3 & 4)

32 Flavors (6:07) 92 BPM: Warm up (Zones 1-3)
Barely Listening (4:06) 93 BPM: Slight downhill (Zone 3)
Healer (3:51) 90 BPM: TT (High zone 3)
'Cause You Can (3:01) 171 BPM: Moderate hill (Zone 3)
Dammit (2:46) 109 BPM: Descent (Zone 4)
What I'm Trying to Say (3:22) 160 BPM: Moderate Hill (Zone 3)
Processed beats (3:07) 107 BPM: Descent (Zone 4)
Mockingbird (4:10) 85 BPM: Moderate climb (Zone 3)
No Brakes (3:03) 150 BPM: Intense climb (Zone 4)
Criminal (5:41) 91 BPM: Descent, with climb at the end (Zone 4)
Bathwater (4:02) 75 BPM: Intense climb (Zone 4)
Tiny Little Fractures (2:28) 144 BPM: Intense climb (Zone 4)
Tyrant (4:44) 99 BPM: Descent (Zone 4)
The Light of a Fading Star (3:52) 102 BPM: Descent (Zone 3-4)
Keep This Fire Burning (3:56) 100 BPM: Cool down (Zone 2-3)
Chan Chan (4:16) 84 BPM: Stretch (Zone 1-2)

I know the zones seem backwards ("Shouldn't my heart rate be higher while climbing than during descent?"); just go with me here. I want you to work on climbing efficiently. If you have trouble keeping your heart rate down at the beginning, keep working on it; eventually, your body will get the idea and it will make you a stronger climber. "Keep This Fire Burning" isn't available on iTunes, by the way, but I'm sure you can find your own favorite cool down song.

And a track workout . . .

Warm Up
1600, stride the straight-aways on the last 800

Dynamic warm up/drills
A skip
B skip
Side strides
Karaoke
Side-to-side drill
4x100 strides

Main Set
1 X 1600 -- 70% effort/zone 3
1 X 1200 -- 85% effort/high zone 3
1 X 800 -- 70% effort/zone 3
1 X 1200 -- 90 % effort/zone 4
200 active recovery between each interval

The 1200s are the key intervals, so work hardest on those. For all track workouts, record your times, but don't let them guide your pace; follow your heart rate.

Cool Down
400-800 easy

Overcomers

Yah! There's so much I want to do and say with this blog, but so many times I start a post and get stuck halfway through . . .

This kind of thing shouldn't be happening so consistently to an English major. Seriously. I was trained (hah!) to do this.

So some quick updates . . .

• I'm still working on the beginners' series; I'm just trying to decide between two topics for the next post.
• I do have another cycling workout on the table; unfortunately, my computer ate it yesterday (Audigy crashed and I had to start over).
• The weather here has been absolutely beautiful--60+ F and sunny (well, it's currently raining, but Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were gorgeous). I got a long run in Thursday of 10 miles, which unfortunately may have been too much. It had been two (maybe three) weeks since my last long run, and I think that the sudden re-establishment of heavy mileage demanded too much from my poor legs, which said, "Oh! no thank you! (link has some language)" As a result, my right foot and ankle are a little cranky--too cranky for running, which I discovered this morning when I tried to take advantage of the beautiful weather before church. So I may have to take (another!) hiatus from running. This is disappointing. But I will find a way (maybe the elliptical trainer?! noooo!).
• I'm still eating around 80% raw, 20% cooked. I am really enjoying salads, dried fruit, fresh fruit, and nuts. Without having to worry about getting 100% of my calories from raw food, I don't have to muck about with nasty things like green smoothies (my one attempt at a green smoothie was teeth-burningly disgusting, which isn't to say that they're all universally bad). I also feel like it's much easier to put calories back into my body after 10-mile runs and 30-mile bike rides (potatoes, anyone?).
• I road my bike to Lake Afton on Friday, wetsuit in tow, to see if it's warm enough yet for swimming. It's not.
  
• I've reached that magical point of base training where I feel frickin' slow. And I want to go fast. But I must stick with my plan and go slow for another month. Sigh . . .

But you know what? Triathletes are great overcomers. We are. That's why so many of us suck at swimming and end up injured; whenever we come up against a challenge, we think, "Okay, I just gotta keep going. Just gotta keep those legs moving. Just gotta muscle my way to the end of the pool and back three more times."

A final note: Congrats to my friend Jonathan in the Distance for completing Ironman New Zealand this weekend! Fight on, Jonathan!

Brr . . .

Guess what.

It's still too cold for swimming in Lake Afton.

I know. I checked.

But it was plenty warm enough for biking!

RAW: Days 8 and 9

I was going to back off on the daily posts for a while, but I really must share.

I posted my concerns and questions at GoneRaw.com, and look what came back . . .

http://www.goneraw.com/forums/3/topics/3518

The response from this community overwhelms. I was expecting a little more vehemence. If someone were to challenge my way of life--and let's face it: raw foodism is as much a lifestyle as it is a diet--I think I would be more hostile in defending it. However, the posts here are nothing but helpful and encouraging.

Today was pretty difficult for me, in terms of detox. My stomach was turning over and over; I felt nauseous at points; and let's just say that things were a little, erm, loose. But that is an indication to me that my colon is cleaning out. Because things aren't just loose, they're also a strange color. I may be mistaken, but I take this to mean that a raw diet really is effective for me, in terms of cleansing. And I like the idea that my body is becoming cleaner and more healthy.

Also, my Amazon purchases (Larabars and hemp protein powder) arrived today.

Being raw is very difficult for me, for some reason, perhaps because I'm still so deep into my immortality phase that I'm not as pressingly concerned about my long-term health as I might be in another couple years. My extraordinarily (current) good health probably contributes to this mindset as well; this year has been awful in my area for flu and respiratory viruses, but I haven't gotten even a little sick. However, the three occurrences that I've mentioned above compel me to continue my raw food experiment, with one concession: I'll stay 80% raw, but allow myself 20% cooked food. I'll still try to stay as clean as possible in that 20% by avoiding gluten, red meat, high fructose corn syrup, processed flour, etc. (with the exception of Girl Scout cookies, of course). But I think that will give me some leeway, so that by the end of this month I don't hate (hate HATE) the very idea of living food.

I'm currently approaching this as an endurance activity. I think of this as a little run-walk strategy: 8 minutes of running, 2 minutes of walking. Maybe next season (month? year?) I'll be able to go 100% for longer. In the meantime, I intend to take care of myself as well as possible, and will continue to post on my experiences with raw and living food.

Race Report: Wichita Central YMCA Indoor Triathlon

500 yard pool swim: 8:56
I went out hard from the moment I pushed off the wall. After the first 15 yards or so, I pulled back gradually, finally settling on a pace after the first 50. I kept on the hip of the woman to my right (there were no lap lanes), thinking I could maybe get a little bit of draft benefit. One thing I noticed was that I was keeping pace with her flip turns with my open turns (which, I must say, are quite fast). A little over halfway through, I caught a little bit of her wake and came up sputtering. I flipped onto my back for a few yards, then turned back over and finished out. I remember it was hard, but the circumstances stand out much more clearly than the feelings. I can still clearly picture the whole thing, but can't remember whether my body was tired or hurting . . . I just know that I went out hard, and that I really worked for my fastest swim split in a race ever.

6 mile bike: 19:16 (includes both transitions)
This was murder. We were on Cybex stationary cycles, the kind with rubber straps for your feet. So this bike was all about pounding the legs, and it absolutely destroyed my quads. I just focused on muscling through it. My heart rate was over lactate threshold the entire time.

2 mile run: 16:32
Once again, my fastest split ever in a race: 8:15/mile. It took me to a whole new level of hurt, and that's what I'm always looking to do in a race. The indoor track was 14 laps to a mile, for a total of 28 laps. One of my athletes, Rich, was there to cheer me on the whole way, and it was amazing to get to see his face every few seconds. Four laps out, I started accelerating, and absolutely sprinted for the last lap. Rich was standing at the end of the straightaway, demanding that I run as hard as my legs would carry me. After I finished that final lap, I slowed to a walk, sagged against the wall, and swore under my breath. It hurt so bad! One thing that took my mind off the effort was considering whether or not I would be disqualified if I threw up on the indoor track. Outside, it wouldn't be a big deal, but indoors, I think it would be a hazard. Regardless, I didn't lose my cookies, and I think that my emphasis on mental toughness is really paying off.

Total time: 44:43
UPDATE: 3rd place Female 21-34! Whoo!
My time at Derby Rec, which was the same distance, was 48:36. And I think that's all I need to say about that.

I love love love these short, indoor races. At this distance, I can stay anaerobic--and heck, even above LT!--the whole time; I can really see what my body is capable of. It gives me hope, to think that I might someday be doing Olympic distance at these speeds. It's just a matter of hard work.

I don't have the results (I had a seminar for personal trainers at the club on Saturday, so I didn't stay for awards) or pictures yet, but I'll post them as soon as I have them! Whoo! I'm so amped!

RAW: Days 6 and 7

Yesterday was race day. I ate mostly raw, but scarfed up whatever was on hand, right after (oranges, bananas, granola bars, gatorade) and celebrated by having a nice (COOKED!) dinner with my dad. Race report to follow.

Today is not going well. I am sick of eating frickin' leafy greens, but trying to stay away from too much dried fruit to avoid the simple sugars. I'm currently munching on mushrooms. Furthermore, I feel hostile towards the entire raw community. I've been surfing message boards, reading chirpy posts, and wanting to punch all those raw food nuts in the face. Not so much enjoying this lifestyle, at the moment.

Finally, I've been trying to find some solid evidence on the benefits of a living food diet. I know the basic theory: heating food above 118 F for longer than 3 minutes denatures the protein, caramelizes the sugar, and destroys the enzymes that are built into the food to help it be digested. But I would like to see some data on the actual science behind this. Every article I've found on line strikes me as a knee-jerk, defensive, propagandistic, and even fanatical. I get that this is something people really believe in; maybe it's something I could believe in. I've even found a few good articles, and I think, "Okay, I can buy that . . . but if you have studies, show me references." Because I don't want to be preached at; I want some facts.

I hope things start looking up in the next 3 weeks, because at this rate, I'm never going to want to eat raw veg again!

"Believing in Belief"

Several things have been brewing in my head for this post: an article by swim coach Richard Quick, an Endurance Planet podcast, a blog post by triathlete Gale Bernhardt . . . consider this post a synthesis of their thoughts and mine.

Have you ever read about the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes? Before Roger Bannister ran his liminal mile, most people--almost everyone, in fact--seriously doubted that it was physically possible. After he broke that barrier, many athletes followed in his footsteps, to the point where running a sub-4-minute mile became almost pedestrian. It was Bannister's belief that carried him beyond the world's assumptions and made him the first.

Not everyone can be a professional athlete; no matter your work ethic, there's a half-dozen genetically-determined and unchangeable variables: muscle type, body composition, VO2 max . . . I would even argue that many professional endurance athletes possess a predisposition for higher tolerance of pain and a stronger sense of discipline . . . what if an extraordinary ability to believe is another difference between the elite and the age grouper? Belief makes the ordinary extraordinary; belief brings commitment; belief gives permission beyond limits; belief will carry an athlete through difficulties and setbacks; belief makes you act as if you cannot fail.

Belief makes the extraordinary ordinary. The success of Roger Bannister gave other athletes permission to believe that running a mile in 3:59 is possible. Before his achievement, the belief was visionary; now it's mundane, because it's fact. His accomplishment--which began with his belief--actually expanded the cultural perception of what is normal and ordinary! Wouldn't it be great to be a person who breaks that kind of barrier?

Belief brings commitment. Roger Bannister didn't run just one mile; I mean, he ran the famous one, but he ran countless others before that. He sacrificed. He reached new levels of physical pain. He restructured his life (he wasn't a pro athlete, by the way; he was a recreational runner) to give him an appropriate amount of time to train. He committed a huge chunk of his life to this goal, because he knew it was attainable--not just theoretically, but personally; there was no reason to half-ass it. It wasn't only something that his coach or his parents or his nation wanted (although they all did); no one thought it was possible, and if he hadn't initially believed himself capable of running the fastest mile ever, his culture never would have expected and demanded that he achieve it. His belief initiated the pursuit for the goal; he was committed before anyone else was.

Belief gives permission beyond limits. Roger Bannister wasn't waiting for someone to say he should or could; he wasn't waiting for someone else to break the barrier. In fact, he was committed to breaking the 4-minute record before anyone else could (there were two other men pusuing the same goal simultaneously). And many saw the 4-minute barrier as a natural limit: 4 minutes, 4 laps around the track . . . it seemed perfect. Bannister disregarded that idea of a natural order; he knew he could run a mile faster than that, and he set out to do it. His own belief allowed him to overlook any so-called limits.

Belief carries an athlete through difficulties and setbacks. Bannister didn't run a sub-4-minute mile the first time he tried. In fact, there were several races and events which were orchestrated specifically to help him break 4 minutes, times when all the world watched and waited thinking, "This'll surely be the time." He failed multiple times, at international events, and small-town races, even with other athletes pacing him. He failed. He failed, he failed, he failed. And in the face of discouragement, he continued his training with a singular aim, and continued to participate in meets and events; his belief did not allow him to look at himself and think, "Well, I guess that's it. I gave it everything, and it wasn't enough." It carried him through the profoundest discouragement--failure.

Belief makes you act as if you cannot fail.

Let's apply. What is an extraordinary goal for you? What's something on the outside edges of what (in your mind) is possible for you? For some, the idea of even finishing a triathlon is an extraordinary goal. I coach one woman for whom swimming 25 yards is mentally inconceivable. Maybe you have an inkling that you could run a marathon in under 3 hours. Maybe you secretly believe that you could get first place in your A-priority race this season. Maybe you dream of swimming the English Channel. Or maybe it's something completely unrelated to performance. Whatever it is, allow yourself to fully define your goal; I would bet that most of you have a little thought niggling at the corners of your brain. Mine says, "Know what? I bet you can get 1st in your age group at Shawnee Mission." Invite that thought into center stage in your mind and take a good long look at it.

What's your first reaction to that goal/dream/desire? Maybe that it's not realistic. It's a pipe dream. It's never going to happen.

Psh. Why isn't it going to happen? Is it because you're not genetically pre-disposed to win first place at a major race? Or because you didn't learn to swim until you were 37 years old? Check this out:

How could Dara Torres--at age 33 and having been out of swimming for seven years--return to the sport in 2000 after only 14 months of training and swim significantly faster than ever before in each of her events, setting tow American records and taking five Olympic medlas (two of them gold on world-record relays)?
How could American 200-meter butterflyer Misty Hyman drop from 2:09.2 (her lifetime best) at the 2000 Olympic trials to 2:05.88 just 30 days later to beat world-record holder and defending Olympic champion Susie O'Neill, breaking O'Neill's six-year winning streak in the 200 butterfly?
-Quick, Richard. "Believing in Belief." The Swim Coaching Bible. Human Kinetics: 2001.

That's right! Belief! And you may not be a world-class 200 meter butterfly specialist, or a former Olympian, but you are capable of the same kind of belief that drove these athletes to do what was extraordinary for them. Know what? No matter how exceptional the physiology, dropping almost 4 seconds from a swimming PR is extraordinary. And coming back to the Olympics to win big after a seven-year hiatus is extraordinary. For you, extraordinary will look different (for one thing, if you're an age-grouper, you should damn well be able to drop a lot more than 4 seconds from your swim time!), but it is no less extraordinary, and it is no less achievable.

So look back over this post and ask some questions. I look forward to hearing what happens from there.

RAW: Days 4 and 5

I can tell you, the amount of fiber in my body currently is really intense . . .

I feel sorry for whoever might be so unfortunate as to end up behind me at any point during the YMCA Central indoor tri tomorrow . . . because they're in for a stinky ride.

This raw thing comes in phases . . . sometimes it seems ridiculously hard, other times it's a breeze. For dinner tonight, I made some raw hummus using sprouted chick peas, and it tasted really good! Besides which, the friction from processing it in my food processor warmed it nicely. And I haven't had warm food in a while.

One of the most interesting parts about this whole process is wondering where I'm going to land: will I be so full of energy and healthy by the end of the month that I'll never want to go back to cooked foods? Will I be so sick of frickin' fruits and veggies that I'll cook everything forever, until all semblance of nutritional value is gone from whatever I eat? I'm betting that I'll end up halfway in between--glad to have had the experience, but ready to incorporate cooked foods (BREAD!) back into my diet. I could see myself being about 50% raw.

But it's thrilling, not knowing where I'll come down at the end of this experiment.

RAW: Days 2 and 3

Prompted by dinner with my grandmother last night (she's half-deaf, slightly senile, and loves me to death), I have decided that raw food rules do not apply in the following situations:

• Special family meals (because there's a special circle of hell reserved for people who turn down food prepared by doting grandmothers)
• Holidays and birthdays
• Race days
• Girl Scout cookies

You think I'm kidding about that last one. I'm not.

I figure even with these exceptions, I'm still in great shape; if nothing else, I'm still well ahead of the 80/20 curve (you know, eat well 80 percent of the time, drink beer and eat oreos after the race--I mean, the other 20 percent of the time). Which led me along the following line of thought: I don't really care about raw eating. I respect people who are raw vegans and who find all kinds of creative things to do with dates, almonds, a food processor, and a dehydrator. But when it comes right down to it, I don't have the kind of spiritual connection with the idea of raw fooding that it takes to give up so much that is totally normal (Girl Scout cookies, anyone?).

Which pretty much parallels my attitude towards Ironman. I respect people who do it. I think it's awesome and bad ass. But I feel no compunction to go out and do 140.6 miles of work in one day.

At least, not yet.

There's the kicker--as sure as I am that I don't want to do Ironman right now, that it's not my thing, that I lack the emotional and spiritual desire to go out and push myself through that kind of journey . . . I know that it's only a matter of time. It might be in two years or in twenty, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will someday finish an Ironman race. I will. It's written into my future; it's part of my destiny. And I'm sure that I'll find the strength for the journey--the emotional and spiritual connection that I currently lack--as I travel that road.

And maybe that's the way it'll be with raw food, too. Yeah, I don't really have the emotional or spiritual conviction that raw eating is the way to go . . . I'm not even sure about the biological basis of raw eating. But I know that I want to see if I can go the distance. And maybe as I test my limits with endurance and discipline in eating, I'll find some connection to this lifestyle that pulls me in and makes me want to give up Girl Scout cookies.

Fortunately, I'll still have these recipes . . .

RAW: Lessons Learned - Day 1

• Oils have lots of fats. If I want to eat a lot of salads, I'm going to have to find a lower-fat alternative for oil and vinegar dressing.
• Gotta cut the nuts and nut butters. High fats!
• I'm going to need to find a source of protein and B12. Percent of calories from protein today: 9%. Amount of vitamin B12: 0 mg. Might need to bust out the poke and ceviche sooner than I expected.
• Raw food can be good if it's done right. Yeah, if. My first experiment didn't work out well. My second and third were better. I'm starting to get the hang of it, now.
• I gotta get my mind off of bread, chocolate, bread, cake, bread . . . never mind. Sprouts! Veg! Frozen berries! Almond milk! Delicious, crispy, green, fragrant lettuces . . .
• Gas . . . not as bad as I thought.
  

And here's a (successful, I promise!) recipe . . .

Carrot Cumin Soup

2 carrots, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 tbsp olive oil
about 1/2 cup water
cumin, salt, pepper to taste

Blend everything until it looks like soup. Then eat it.

RAW

The title says it all. I am sitting in front of a big bowl of salad with homemade dressing and raisins and tomatoes. I had salad and fruit for breakfast. There's some (homemade!) almond milk in the fridge, and mung beans sprouting on the kitchen counter.

Can't wait to see what happens next!

Useful Information

Just found this blog entry about winter riding gear.  Posting this is dangerous, though; it takes away my "It's too cold!" excuse.

Guess I'll have to switch to "It's too expensive!"

A Whole Lotta Nothing: Winter Riding Gear

Malaise, Ennui, and Other Signs of Overtraining

• Washed-out feeling, tired, drained, lack of energy
• Mild leg soreness, general aches and pains
• Pain in muscles and joints
• Sudden drop in performance
• Insomnia
• Headaches
• Decreased immunity (increased number of colds, and sore throats)
• Decrease in training capacity / intensity
• Moodiness and irritability
• Depression
• Loss of enthusiasm for the sport
• Decreased appetite
• Increased incidence of injuries
• Compulsive need to exercise

If you've been in this sport for a while, I'll bet you already know a bit about overtraining. If you're new to triathlon, you'll probably experience a little bit of overtraining soon. As a coach, I have athletes dropping like flies. This winter has been terrible for various flu and cold viruses, to the point that the hospitals have been crowded with patients complaining of respiratory illnesses; I believe that has greatly contributed to the rash of athlete illness I've seen on my team, particularly since they were getting sick even during the first week of training. But I also know that we've been training hard, and that I coach a group of middle-aged women who seem extraordinarily reluctant to slow the frick down! So I'm sure that their midwestern work ethic has made them easy targets for all the nasty bugs out there.

As an athlete, I'm talking out of both sides of my mouth, here, because as strongly as I've encouraged them to lay off for a few days and give their bodies a chance to recover, I'm currently experiencing:

• A washed out feeling, tired, lacking energy
• Mild aches and pains, soreness, and stiffness everywhere
• Insomnia (and freakin' nightmares, y'all)
• Decrease in training capacity/intensity (I've had a hard time even getting into zone 3 this whole week)
• Loss of enthusiasm for the sport (haven't lifted weights all week)
• A compulsive need to exercise

And yet I'm still totally convinced that I just need to keep training for one more week, to make it to that next recovery cycle.

Experienced athletes will be able to relate to this common connundrum (and newbies, take note): we sort of suspect that we're overtrained and should back off, but simultaneously wonder whether we need to work harder instead. If we don't back off and proceed into some hardcore overtraining, we risk the fitness we've built over the past months, but if we do back off, we feel like we will lose fitness anyway! The supreme irony is that symptoms of no enthusiasm or motivation to work out occur along with a compulsive need to exercise. You'd think that if we feel so blah (for lack of a better term) about scheduled workouts, we'd avoid them like the plague; instead, we add extra workouts on.

Practically, here are some steps to take if you suspect you're overtrained:

• Take the time to prove to yourself beyond any doubt that you are indeed overtrained. The best way to do this is to keep track of resting heart rate and performance stats in a training log (the digital log at Trifuel is a good resource for tracking this information). If your resting HR is up by at least 10% for three days or more, take note; if you see a sudden drop in your speed or wattage, take note; this provides concrete evidence that you're overtrained, so there's no convincing yourself that you should try to muscle through a rough patch by working harder.
• Take one to three days totally off, and reduce your volume by 20% for the rest of your training week (or whatever microcycle you use).
• Get a full seven to nine hours of sleep each night, eat healthy and track your nutrient intake, and drink lots of water. This gives your body the tools it needs to recover and rebuild fully.
• Stretch, use a foam roller, do some yoga, maybe even consider a sports massage. Give your muscles some love!
• Give yourself a mental break from the sport. As you finish your days of rest, allow yourself to get psyched out a little. You should feel excited to get back into training.
• If, like me, you're almost to your recovery week anyway, continue moving your schedule up a week.

I know from personal (current, even) experience that it is ridiculously difficult to put on the brakes and bring your training to a halt; we want to train through this mess, dammit! But take it on good authority: if you try to keep going when you're overtrained, you're going to do more harm than good.

(As a personal aside, I have this problem regularly; I am going to look at my training schedule and consider a three-week mesocycle, instead of the four week cycle under which I'm currently operating.)

Update (11/27/2017):
After several years of periodically dealing with overtraining, I've found that going from three sports to one has reduced the incidence and severity of my overtraining systems. Now that I focus primarily on cycling, I find that I can absorb more intensity, even at a younger age. The trade-off has been soreness; my body deteriorates much more quickly and needs more self-care work (stretching, yoga, self-myofascial release) than it did when I was training for Ironman. I still feel burned out towards the end of a long racing block, but training seems not to effect me as dramatically; I can even do four-week mesocycles instead of the three-week cycles I used when I was triathlon training. For a more in-depth look at overtraining, visit Kyran's page on 9 signs of overtraining.
[Props to About.com for the convenient list of overtraining symptoms; it was much easier to cut and paste than to think all of those up myself]

Looooong Run

You wanna talk about mental toughness? I'll tell ya about mental toughness.

I'll tell ya about running uphill. Into 24 MPH wind. On the sand.

I'll tell ya about roads that I swear are changing pitch; when I run south, there's an incline, but by the time I get around to running north on the very same road, it's flat as a pancake.

I'll tell ya about a mile split that's a full minute and a half slower because I was running into the wind.

I'll tell ya about an internal oblique that felt like someone was wringing water out of a wet dishrag on the last two miles.

I'll tell ya about rounding the last corner, a mile left to go, and thinking, "I know this is going to hurt; I just have to keep going," then repeating that to myself for the next 10 minutes.

And I'll tell ya about the most grueling mental obstacle of all: deciding whether to eat or shower first when it's all done.

8-mile long run splits
1: 10:27
2: 10:20
3: 11:37 (this one against the south wind)
4: 10:33
5: 10:52
6: 10:08 (this one with the wind)
7: 10:25
8: 9:50 (this one against the wind!)

Building Mental Toughness

A major goal that I set for this mesocycle is to build mental toughness. One of the ways I want to do that is by always working one minute longer than I have to. So if I plan to do an eight-mile run, I run eight miles, then one minute farther at the same pace.

Today, I had a breakthrough with mental toughness, I think. I was swimming 34 minutes straight in the SwimEx, and it was not going well. I actually considered ending early and trying later in the week, because I was having so much trouble holding my form. The main reason is that I'm trying to improve my catch, but my arms lack the strength to keep up. The way I've changed my catch dramatically improves my pace, but I get significantly fatigued and sore on the lateral side of my right hand, from the knuckle of my pinkie down into my forearm. Today I was also experiencing discomfort in my tricep and anterior deltoid, as well as the antecubital area of my left arm (translation: the side of my right hand and forearm, the back of my right arm, the front of my shoulder, and the front side of my left elbow). So in short, my swimming is improving, but I need to build upper body strength before I can really work it in. Which is why I kept swimming: I figured I needed to push those arm muscles so that they'll get stronger.

I was counting down the seconds by the end of this workout, focusing all my mental capacity on holding a passable form. Then the timer went to 00:00, the buzzer sounded, and I was done. Except that I kept swimming. My goal was to keep swimming for one minute. But at that point, it was like I couldn't stop. As soon as I was technically finished, I just wanted to keep going; I was enjoying it.

I don't know how long I kept swimming; I lost track of time. It probably wasn't more than a minute, maybe two. But I was surprised to find how easy it was to keep moving, as difficult as it had been before, as soon as my time was up.

An Experiment

I'm not sure how I came to this decision.

I have decided to try out a raw foods diet for one month, just to see how it feels. I've been looking at some recipes and stuff. Looks pretty hard core. One of my primary concerns is that I won't be able to properly fuel my body for training and competition. But most of the proponents of raw food (who strike me as a little nutty, honestly) claim to have more energy, so we'll see.

However, I am concerned about when I should start this. I'd like to do it during my base building phase, since I'm absolutely sure that I'll lose a significant amount of weight, and I've read that it's best to lose weight during base phase, rather than specific prep or competitive phases. But that doesn't give me as much time to prepare as if I waited until, say, April.''

Currently, I'm thinking about starting for the second half of March, which will give me two weeks during base and two weeks during specific prep. And we'll see what happens.

Thoughts?

Finding Your Strengths: Part II

I was re-reading some old posts (because I'm a perfectionist) and I realized I left out an important point.

Just because you swam in high school or spend every weekend on a bike or run marathons as a hobby doesn't mean that that's your strongest sport. I know a couple of people who have come into triathlon from cycling or swimming only to discover that they're excellent runners. So my last piece of advice when looking for your strengths is to keep an open mind. Who knows? Maybe you'll discover a new talent. And if you allow yourself to grow in new directions, your performance can only get stronger.

Mantra

Slow is smooth.

Smooth is good.

Good is fast.

Fast is slow.

I don't know why such a simple syllogism makes me swim better, but it works.

Try it.