Re-imagining Trihardist

View from a recent ride in Page County, Virginia.

I started this blog mostly because I wanted some cool cycling workouts that I could download and use in workouts that didn't have crappy music and coked-out instructors and didn't cost an arm and a leg. I couldn't find any, so I started making my own. They've been pretty popular over the years, but the whole idea has started to feel dated to me. There are lots of other (and better) options when it comes to structured, guided training for indoor cycling: there's Sufferfest, TrainerRoad, Zwift, Peloton (which seems to have the coked-out instructor vibe going), and plenty of workouts available for free on YouTube. In this crowded marketplace, I feel like my workouts lack utility. There are more and better options now.

This post isn't meant to be a pity party, though. Rather, it's to get feedback from you, my readers and listeners and clients, on what will be edifying for you. I've thought of going in a few different directions:

• I plan to make some free video workouts for distribution on YouTube, in the vein of what I've done before with my audio workouts. I'll also give the option of commissioning custom workouts with your choice of video, music, and programming. For example if you have race course footage that you'd really like to use to prepare, or need something to help motivate you through your toughest coach-assigned workouts, I could make a custom video for you.
• I'd like to do some product reviews, especially of women's kit. There are a few websites, mostly online cycling magazines, in that space, but they mostly seem to cover boutique companies that sell kit in Australia, Europe, and the UK. I haven't found as much that covers cool women's kit in the US. The tough part about getting this going is the high start-up cost. Nice kit is expensive!
• I will eventually use my yoga expertise to make some video classes for cyclists and runners. I think yoga is a great tool to improve performance for endurance athletes.
• I've considered doing a Cycling Maven style vlog (love that guy), but I have a hard time believing anyone thinks I'm interesting enough to want to watch me live life. And I don't like talking about myself. And I have trouble making eye contact with the camera. I suppose these are all things I could overcome, if I get an overwhelming response that says, "Yes, Jamie! We really want to hear about all the mundanities of your life!" Otherwise, I would rather do something more . . . useful (and that's not a dig at the Maven; that guy is awesome, and he has some super useful videos with tips for criterium racing). Besides, every Tom, Dick, and Harry (for some reason, it's mostly men who think that the internet will be interested in what they have to say) is starting a YouTube cycling vlog right now.

Those are the ideas that I have so far. I'll still have my audio workouts available, both the free and paid ones, and will still do custom workouts for anyone who wants them. I'll still do my race reports and general life updates. And I'll still call myself the Trihardist, even though I'm not doing triathlons right now. It's my identity, at this point. Besides, I like the way it sounds.

Anyway, let me know what you think! How can I make myself useful to you?

You can contact me with ideas by leaving a comment on this post; by tweeting @trihardist;by leaving a comment on my Facebook page; by e-mailing me; or by sending a smoke signal, if you live in the DC Metro.

Update on Strength Training

I've been reflecting on my 2014 season, thinking about what went right, what went wrong. I want to have a very successful season in 2015. I'm turning 30 and doing my first Ironman; when I look back at the end of next year, I want to feel successful.

In racing, my biggest limiter this year was endurance. I didn't have the base to have a good run after a 40k ride, let alone a 56 miler. I lacked the base because I didn't do enough training, and I didn't do enough training because I kept getting hurt.

It was a stressful year. I started my half ironman training at about the same time that I moved to Kansas City and started two new jobs. I ended up with cat scratch fever, and couldn't train for 2 months on doctor's orders. When I finally got the all-clear to start training again, I almost immediately sprained my ankle, and took myself out of the mix for another month. I missed almost all of my base training workouts during that time, and had to play catch up for the rest of the season.

The stress of last year is behind me, now, and I don't foresee any super-stressful phases of life coming my way (certainly nothing that would compromise my immune system enough that I get cat scratch fever again).

But the ankle sprain was the other monkey wrench in my training plans in 2014, and that was something that could have been prevented. Over the past 2 years, I was much more susceptible to injury: twisted ankles, shoulder impingement, I even threw out my back a couple of times. I think the main reason that I had so much trouble with injury was that I wasn't strength training consistently. Then, when I moved to Kansas City, I stopped doing yoga, too. The lack of any strength or flexibility training increased my vulnerability to injury, and thus threw off my whole training season.

That's the long way of saying that I need to do more strength training and yoga.

My goal this off-season (before I start training for a March marathon) is to build consistency in strength and flexibility training. I have a battery of corrective exercises to do, along with myofascial release, stretches, and strength exercises. Here's what I'm doing:

Perform 3x/week:
Warm up
Light jogging, high knees, and butt kickers

SMR (self myofascial release)
M: Plantar fascia, gastro, soleus
W: ITB, hip flexors, quadriceps
F: Gluteals/piriformis, pectorals, rhomboids

Corrective exercise
1-leg bridge (Cook hip raise)
VMO seated leg raise
Eccentric calf raise
Eccentric toe raise
Quick release (anti-rotational exercise)
YTWLs
Neck flexion/extension

Strength
Dumbbell or kettlebell squat
Assisted pull-up
TRX push-up
Plank on foam roller
Handstand
Cable row + hip extension
Cable lat pullover + tricep extension
Cable high-low chop

Stretch
Hamstrings
Calves
Glutes/piriformis
Hip flexors
Pectorals

Race Report: El Dorado Lake Tri 2012

I am never training for a race again.

You may remember this post, in which I declared that I had no intention of training for this race. And I remained faithful to my word. I haven't done a pool workout since February, and I haven't run (except in my rugby training) any distance this year.

In spite of that fact, I had one of my best races ever! My performance this year was comparable to my performance last year (when I was training my butt off), and I had a great time!

Pre-race:
I always run late to this race! At least I didn't get lost this year.

My plan was to wake up at 5:00, leave my house by 5:30, and arrive at 6:30. Transition closed at 6:50, so that didn't leave me much time to set up my stuff. I didn't get out of my house until 6:45, and I arrived at around 6:40. That only gave me 10 minutes to set up my area, but that was plenty. The one downside to arriving so late was that all the good bike rack spots were already taken (no assigned spots, this year), and I had trouble finding a place to put my gear. Even so, I was out of transition with a good minute to spare.

The olympic race started at 7:00, and my race started at 7:30. I thought about warming up, then decided against it. I jogged back and forth to the bathroom a couple of times. That was my warmup. Hey! I didn't even train for this race! It seemed hypocritical to do a warmup, after following my training regimen so precisely.

Swim: 750 m in 14:44 (last year 13:56)
This swim course is short, I think, but the time includes a long run-up to transition, so I guess that makes up for it. It's a rare beach start, and I get to use my dolphin dive to get out ahead of the melee. I started in front, but I felt sure that everyone else passed me as soon as we got into open water. Which I didn't mind. I was just focusing on getting through a full 750, seeing as how the only time I've spent in a pool this year has been in a very tiny bikini with a fruity mixed drink in my hand. My dad said that I was the first orange cap out of the water, though! I can hardly believe that. Maybe my dad missed the half dozen women who surely must have been out in front of me. But I wasn't paying attention to who came out of the water in front of or behind me, because I was so sure that I was bringing up the rear!

I have to admit, the swim was a little bit painful. My neck, shoulders, and arms aren't used to that kind of exertion. My traps and neck cramped up from breathing to the right. I tried breathing to my left, but that just made me swim off course, and my neck cramped on the other side, anyway. My triceps felt like lead by the end. But I made it through the swim, and didn't feel like I was over-exerted or anything.

T1: 44 seconds (last year 37)
Meh. I had no reason to be in a hurry, this year. I took my time getting my stuff together before grabbing my bike and heading out.

Bike: 20 km in 42:15 (last year 38:36)
Tailwind going out, headwind coming back, way more hills than I remember. I felt strong and capable on the bike, always my best event. I passed plenty of people. There was one woman who paced me pretty well. I passed her after 4 or 5 miles, but she stayed close throughout the bike. Staying in front of her encouraged me to hold a hard pace. I was somewhat concerned that I was going to push myself too hard and not have anything left for the run. I was worried about the run, but I tried to keep my mind on the present moment. My legs felt tight, and tired. I think my road bike may be too compact for me; I felt all scrunched up.

My rabbit passed me back around the 10 mile mark. We were going just about the same speed, and I had to work to stay out of her draft zone; I wasn't interested in trying to pass her back again. I was ready to settle in and wait for the run.

T2: 49 seconds (last year 42)
Took my time in T2, too. I could have gotten in and out in 30 seconds, probably. But what was the rush? I was just out for fun! Besides, I wasn't looking forward to running, and I was putting it off as long as I could. I was motivated to leave, though, by my rabbit from the bike leg heading out. I could at least beat her out of transition!

Run: 5 km in 30:26 (last year 28:13)
I don't know what I was so worried about! I felt pretty good on the run, and I passed a lot of people. Last year, I was so far out in front that I just got passed; I didn't get to do any of the passing. I didn't feel like a terrific runner or anything, but it did feel like a good run. I mean, it hurt. But that's how it's supposed to feel.

I did have some cramping in the first two miles. I've had some trouble with my anterior tibialis on the right leg spasming. There was one night at the gym when I was going to run sprint intervals, but my leg cramped so badly that I could barely stand, let alone run. I altered my gait, so I could run more on my toes (less dorsiflexion, so the anterior tib isn't contracted as much). That worked for a while, then my right calf started cramping. I had to alternate between running on my toes and running on my heels. Then my right psoas started cramping, and I got a little worried. But it worked itself out by about the halfway point. And then I felt okay.

Of course, "okay" isn't "great." I still hurt. It was still hard. I was still ready to be done with the whole thing. But I felt strong, in terms of my endurance. You know what really got me, though, was muscular endurance. By the last mile, my legs were done. I could feel that the muscles in my right leg weren't even working, anymore; my right foot felt floppy.

With about .2 mile to go, two women passed me. But I didn't have to worry about that, because I was just out there for fun! I smiled and told them they looked great. And then we were over the bridge and around the corner and into the finishing chute. I did my best impression of a sprint, which just involved picking my knees up slightly. And that was it!

Total: 1:28:55, 4th female overall, 1st female 25-29, 51st overall (male and female)
In terms of field placement, this is exactly what I did last year. 4th female overall, 1st in my age group. I had been counting women ahead of me, and I figured I came in 7th overall, but I failed to account for the fact that there were two swim waves, so the older women started 2 minutes ahead. That meant a better result for me!

I had so much fun at this race! It was a great time, and a surprisingly great result for me. I guess that the high intensity sprint work I've been doing for rugby actually keeps me in pretty good shape! I would like to add in one long-ish run (5-8 miles) on the weekends, once a week, just to keep my endurance up. We're going into the fall season, where more of the matches will be a full 80 minutes. That means I need to be able to work for a full 80 minutes! An 8 mile run will be perfect.

I do still enjoy triathlon. I just don't want to organize my life around a super-serious training plan. I think I was taking myself way too seriously, last year, and it lead to a good result, but I didn't feel good about it. This year, I didn't take myself so seriously, and I had a lot more fun. And I still had a good result, but I was able to enjoy it!

Thanks for reading, guys. I really appreciate you all!

Race Report: Shawnee Mission '11

This was the big one, the race I've been training for and targeting all season. I really restructured my training, this year, beginning much later than I normally do so that I would still feel fresh and motivated in July. I pre-rode and pre-ran the course the weekend before to remind myself what those hills and what that humidity really feel like. And, as usual, I had my family with me. No Photographer, though :-(.


Pre-Race
I've wised up over the years, and told my mom that I wanted to leave 15 minutes earlier than I actually wanted to leave. And it worked! We were heading out by 5:15 and at the race site by 5:30! I rode alone to transition. I was one of the first on my rack and set my stuff up just the way I like it. I got my timing chip (body marking was done by Tri Tats, which I used for the first time at this race. I loved them!), aired up my tires, and headed out for a gentle warm up on the 4.5 mile bike loop.


When I got back, someone had moved my stuff. Seriously. She had picked up my towel, my shoes, my hat, and my race belt, and moved it to the side. So I picked it up and moved it back where it belonged. "I think you're supposed to put your stuff on the opposite side your bike is facing," she might have said (it's been a week and a half, and I don't remember exactly). "I know," I replied. "I did." There was definitely some hostility. But you just don't move another person's stuff, not without asking. If she would have asked me to scooch it over a bit, I totally would have (and I did move my stuff to take up less space as the rack filled up). I felt perfectly justified, though, as I was one of the first to get in to set up my transition space AND I was in the right space, as marked on the bike rack.


I scoped out my rack to see my competition. I felt good about my chances of kicking some serious tri tail.


Swim: 1000 m in 21:34 (22:29 in '08)
I guess I still improved over my 2008 time, so it's not all bad. But the swim was definitely the low point of the race for me. I have been hitting my pool intervals at 1:35-1:45/100 m, so I was optimistic about how this swim would go. But then I got attacked by monster woman triathletes! They must have been mammoth! In fact, they may have been zombie triathletes from the year before, trying to drag me under to join their foul brood!


Okay, that's hyperbolic. But a few did literally grab me and pull me under. Not intentionally, of course; nothing like that happens intentionally in a triathlon. It just happens. But it was a rough swim in the first 300-400 m, and it really affected me mentally. I got so smashed around, it was hard to establish a rhythm. In fact, I didn't really find a rhythm until well past the turn-around, and even then I was more disoriented than usual. Through that, though, I was fortunate not to have too much negative self-talk. I just chalked it up to positioning myself poorly for the start, and vowed to make up for it on the bike. And I still came out twelfth in my wave, sixteenth swim overall, so maybe everyone had kind of a rough time.


T1: 1:30 (1:41 in '08)
There's a long run up to the bike racks from the boat ramp, which accounts for the long transition time. Fourth female overall in T1, though, and I passed two women in T1!


Bike: 18 mi in 56:24 (1:00:14 in '08)
This was my greatest area of improvement, and where I made up the most time on my competitors. I rode fifth fastest of all the women.


I don't remember much of the bike ride. I was in the zone. I could hear music playing in my head, and I matched my cadence to the beat, changing mental tracks on the uphills, downhills, and flats. I counted women as I passed them, until I lost track on the third lap, when I started passing the women who were riding the short course. I speculated as to how many women were ahead of me, at that point (seven).


Last time I did this race, I forgot to pull my feet out of my shoes before I hit transition. This year, I remembered, but just barely. I was pulling my feet out as I came into the chute for the finish. Some poor girl came into the chute just behind me, but couldn't pass me (no passing before the dismount) as I slowed down to undo my feet. Sorry, friend!


I am so, so happy with the way my bike ride went.


T2: 52 seconds (1:05 in '08)
Ranked tenth, among women. Meh.


Run: 42:11 (46:44 in '08)
This is not a fantastic run. It's about 9:20/mile. Not a great time. But you know what? I was pretty happy with it! It represents a big improvement over what I did last time, and still leaves me with plenty of room to improve. And it was still faster than two-thirds of the other women, almost, so whoopee!


My bike ride set me up for big problems on the run. I'd debated whether or not I should put Nuun in my water bottle, since I was only taking one. I should have. I could feel myself start to cramp up after the second lap on the bike, right before I took my Powergel (I felt almost immediately better). By the time I hit the run, my electrolytes were depleted again, and I was in for a rough ride. More than half of the course runs you through the gorgeous Steamway Trail area, which is unfortunately in something of a minor valley. It's hot and humid in the valley, oppressive conditions for a July run, even if it is at 8:30 a.m. With my electrolytes down, I found myself really hurting once the trail dipped into that valley. I admit it: I had to stop and walk a couple of times. My quads were cramping badly. It was torture trying to push myself back uphill. Fortunately, once I was up that big hill, the air had more cool in it, and I was only half a mile from the finish line.


I did the first two miles of the run in about sixteen minutes, so that gives you an idea of how much I slowed down over the last two miles.


My finish did not include a big sprint to the line. By the time I hit the line, it was all I could do to keep my legs going at the same pace I had.


Total: 2:02:29 (2:12:12 in '08), 3rd F 25-29, and 12th F overall!
I was very happy with this race. Unlike El Dorado, where I was absolutely CONVINCED that I should have done better than I did, this race left me with the feeling that I had given it my all. I beat myself by 10 minutes from the last time I did Shawnee Mission, and I beat 60 of the 72 women I was racing (including the girl who moved my stuff in transition, not that that's important).


I was very hot and my tummy was not happy when I finished. I had a nasty blister on my left ankle, too, a really deep one. I left my Kinvaras at El Dorado Lake after the triathlon there, so I had to buy a new pair two weeks out from Shawnee Mission. I got the Saucony Fastwitch, which I like, but I think I should have bought them a size bigger. I lubed my ankle and the back of my shoe really well, but I think it just made it worse. I'm not sure what to do about it, running sockless. Ideally, I would just buy another pair of new shoes. But that's not really practical.


This was a great race, and I had fun! As always, I appreciated the support of my family. They are always proud of me, no matter how I feel about myself. And they are even willing to wake up at 4:45 a.m.!

Derby Rec Center Indoor Tri '11

Hey! Guess what I did! A triathlon!

It's been months since I've a done a race, so I wasn't expecting much, especially it's been verrrry recently (only within the past 2-3 weeks) that I've even really thought about training again. It came as quite a surprise when I ended up on the podium! Here's how it broke down . . .

Pre-race

I had a hard time sleeping the night before, and a hard time waking up the morning of. Good thing I prepped my equipment on Saturday night! All I had to do was wake up, get dressed, grab my bag, and go. I had somehow ended up in the first swim wave, this year. In past years, I've (well) not been in the first wave. I was pretty sure there had been some mistake, or else the field was really down in size, if I (at my pace) somehow wound up in the fast group. I realized about halfway through the bike that the reason I had been mis-seeded was because I'd written down my estimated 400 m swim time (7:30) instead of my estimated 500 m swim time. Oops.

At any rate, that meant that I had to be at the DRC at 6:45. I got there at about 5 'til 7. Of course, set up was just a pair of shoes, so it's not like I needed a bunch of time. But it did take time to go and get the stationary bike settings adjusted to my liking, and I did have to pee a couple of times (yes, within the same 30 minutes). That left me with almost no time to warm up. I ended up spinning on the bike for 5 minutes, running 2 laps around the track, then hopping in the pool and sprinting through a 50. And that was my warm-up. Kids, don't try that at home.

Swim: 500 m in 9:02 - 1:48/100m ('09 ~8:30, '08 9:48)
I kind of figured that I would be the last one out of the pool. And I was! The Photographer said not by much, though ("Not by much" turned out to be about a length and a half). I felt awful until about halfway through, when my body had warmed up a little. I've been doing my 100s on about a 1:50 interval, so I'm confident that I could have gone faster with a better warm-up. And I just got back into the pool a couple weeks ago. So. You know.

T1: 1:02
Have I mentioned before that they don't let athletes run through this transition? No running allowed on the pool deck. So we have to walk the whole way. Which is why this took so long. 

Bike: 6 mi in 15:26 - 23.3 MPH ('09 16:43, '08 19:00)

Ha! I am awesome! I got the second-fastest bike split out of all the women! My friend Heidi was the only one who beat me; she finished in 15:25. Of course, cycling is the one thing I've still been doing consistently. 'Cause (you know) it's my job. Besides which, the cycling protocol we use at Genesis is Body Training System's Group Ride. Which spins at speeds anywhere from 50-130 RPM. 130 RPM, guys. And the bikes at the DRC are set to track distance off of revolutions vs. wattage. Which means that the faster you can spin, the faster you'll be done. Apparently, all that fast spinning in cycling class pays off!

T2: 24 s
I was allowed to run during this transition.


Run: 2 mi in 17:11 - 8:35/mile ('09 18:00, '08 18:18)
Wow. I guess this a pretty significant improvement, too. I mean, it's still not super-human fast or anything. And still not fast enough to keep me from being run down by at least two other women (in the whole world. All the other women in the world are going to have to prove themselves more awesome than I). But it represents a significant improvement for me over the last time I did this race.


Total: 43:05, 3rd F overall ('09 44:19, '08 48:36)
With a total of 1:26 in transitions, that gives me 43:05. Last time I did this race? 44:19. And I didn't even get an award. I placed one place out of the awards, last time. This year? Third female overall. And I got a gift card to Road ID instead of a plaque!

I'm aware of the fact that the race size and field were smaller and less competitive this year. There was another indoor triathlon going on at the Y simultaneously. But you know what? I still got third place overall. And I've still improved greatly. And those other women who didn't show up at the race? For all we know, I would have beaten them, too. If they want to disagree with that, then they'll just have to go toe-to-toe with me this summer, and we'll find out!

Race Report: Emporia Spring Migration '10

Thanks to my Photographer for putting together this video and taking all these pictures. I'm really lucky to have such a wonderful and talented . . . Photographer.

Podium.

That's what you need to know, straight off. 2nd place, female overall. Podium, baby.

This has been my first time making it that far up the ranks, and it was my primary goal for this race. Go for it, go all out, and get into the top 3 overall. And I did it.

Still, I'm not quite content. The race was smaller this year than it has been previously. I don't feel like the field was as competitive, especially on the women's side. A lot of familiar faces were missing, including a few friendly rivals. And (as always) I know that I could still go faster. So there's still room to improve.

Pre-race

A certain special Photographer came with me to this race, and it was wonderful to have some company on the ride up, and some support as I readied myself for competition. Also interesting was seeing triathlon in a new way, as I introduced someone new (a tri virgin, if you will) to the wonders of multisport. It makes everything more fascinating; lets you see it through new eyes.

Registration and body-marking were straight-forward. There was only a slight breeze, but it was chilly (not as chilly as last year), and the sky was grey. The main thing that struck me--and I could not get over this--was how few faces I knew, and how the familiar faces were conspicuously absent. It was kind of sad, really. Still, there were a few that I recognized, and I got to chat with some of the folks I've met casually at other races, or in previous years. Also? Got to introduce The Photographer.

Warm up was 15 minutes on the bike--very chilly!--followed by a mile on the track. And several bathroom stops. My stomach was roiling with nerves. Between the bike, run, and bathroom, I ran out of time for a swim warm-up. I went to stand in the snake between numbers 46 and 49 (48 was a no-show) and waited for my turn to come.

Swim: 400m in 7:36 (1:53/100m, 7:35 in '09)

I always feel very restrained in a triathlon swim. I'm definitely not giving my all. Just trying to stay within the pack, within a good effort zone, maximizing every stroke, and trying to set myself up for a strong bike/run. Should I be working harder? I don't  know . . .

Didn't get passed. Didn't pass anyone else. Felt strong and fluid throughout. And time is almost exactly what it was last year. Probably have some room to improve on this leg.

T1: 32 sec (52 in '09)

Estimated about 32 seconds, based on the discrepancy between my official bike time and the time on my bike computer. Did I mention that I did this race without so much as a watch?

Bike: 20 km in 36:40 (20.3 MPH, 40:30 in '09)

For the first year EVER, there was almost no wind at this race. Notice that I said almost.

The bike was where I did my best work, at this race. I was focused. I was intense. I was competitive. I was counting down the women as they passed me on the out-and-back. I was a hunter.

But I still feel like I should be faster.

T2: 57 sec (57 in '09)

Oh my goodness, what a mess this was. I was using my new Giro aero helmet for the first time at this race, and it's much tighter than the old one. So I had to put my sunglasses on over the helmet straps. Well when I went to take the helmet off, I forgot about the sunglasses, and ended up getting sunglasses, helmet, and hair all tangled together. I wasted a good 30 seconds standing there and swearing and trying to yank my hair out of my head, if that's what it took. My apologies to the parents of young children who were standing nearby; you may have to explain to your kiddos what some of those words mean.

Again, note that the T2 time is only an estimate.

Run: 5 km in 25:00 (8:02/mi, 25:48 in '09)

I don't think I've ever felt this good on a tri run. My legs felt good and strong and capable. It was like the hills weren't even there. No one passed me on the run, for once! There were a few muscles that felt like they might cramp, but they held off.

Alan (captain of the KSRVTC) was waiting for me about a half mile from the finish. He cheered me all the way in (as he does every year), and helped me to a strong finish. I came across the line feeling like I was going to toss my cookies, but knowing that I'd done my very best.

Total: 1:10:45 (1:15:42 in '09)

Fastest time I've ever posted at this race. 2nd F overall. 36th overall with the men. I'm pleased. But now I'm anxious to see how I'll do at a bigger race, one with a little more depth (especially in the female field). Although looking at the results from last year, I would still have placed 2nd overall with 1:10. And I've done it, now: I've been on the podium. The real podium. The overall podium. And I'm pretty happy about that.

Happy. But not content.

The Most Necessary Thing

I don't have a coach. I don't have a power meter. I don't have a GPS device. I don't run in Newtons, don't ride on Zipps, and don't own a swim skin.

I've considered purchasing all of those things. I've thought about spending money I didn't really have on things I don't really need, because they might (in most cases, will) make me faster. And in terms of improving speed, all of these tools are reasonable investments. I'm on the fence about Newtons (seems to me that they could go either way), but all the others, I firmly believe that they will make you faster.

But I'm not going to spend money on them.

Why? Because at this point in my training, they're not necessary. Sure, I could probably ride faster with a pair of Zipps. And I could probably get more speed out of myself with a GPS device, a power meter, a coach. But the truth is that I can still get so much out of myself just by swimming, biking, and running, that the improvements I would see with a monetary investment aren't necessary right now.

Hard work in the workouts is (right now) the most necessary thing for me.

Same goes for the workouts themselves. This year, I think I can drop 20-30 seconds off my mile pace in the 5k just by continuing the pattern of training I've been doing: long run, tempo run, intervals. There's still plenty of room for improvement for me with getting all my runs done, too. So I probably won't consider adding in additional workouts (hills, for example) on any regular basis until I see the current performance gains I'm making level off.

Chances are good that in a couple years I'll start to see my improvements plateau; my times won't get faster, my results won't improve. That's when I'll consider hiring a coach, purchasing new training tools, upgrading my equipment. And that's when I might start looking for new training methods, concentrating more on strength and plyometrics, re-evaluating my plan.

But for right now, consistency in working hard is my most necessary thing.

What's yours?

Race Report: Capital Cross

At last: success!

I finally managed to get through a full cyclocross race without injury or incident. No flat tires. No twisted ankles. I still managed to fall and puncture my leg with my chainring while simultaneously bruising 82% of my shin, but that wasn't bad enough to prevent me from finishing. Truth be told, I didn't even realize how bad I'd hit myself until I finished the race and took my pants off.


Rode up with one of my Specs Racing teammates, Bob. Racing started at 11:00, and my race was one of the first (Cat. 4 women rode also with the women's open race and all the masters divisions). Having the first race on the course meant that I had the stiffest grass to contend with, and there was a ton of grass.

The course began with a nice, long stretch of pavement, but slightly uphill and with the north wind right in our faces. From there we moved into a long straightaway on the grass. The grass had been recently mowed, but it was still thick and stiff (that's what she said). Course dipped around into a ditch (riding off-camber), which led us around a tree, uphill and around another tree, then back through another straight-away the way we'd just come. Much of the course was like that: grass, tree, tree, grass. Slight uphill, slight downhill, slight turns. Two barriers in a small cluster of trees. Two separate times the course turned sharply and directly up steep hills (those were fun).


The highlight of the course was the Mound of Mercy, a banana-shaped embankment that was a moderate climb on the ends and steep in the middle. Course followed a few sharp turns around trees, then straight up the stem side of the banana. We rode steady around the banana's back, down the other side into some more off-camber section. 180* turn at the butt of the hill, then forced dismount for a barrier and a long, steep run-up. A small chicane followed the first run-up, then an even steeper downhill, another 180*, and a final run-up. Remount at the top of that run-up, then hammer back down the banana, left-hand turn, and through the finish line. 1.8 miles. And that's just lap one.

I lined up in the second row in a field of about 14 women. I'd read an article about how to get a good start in cyclocross races (because what else am I going to do at work at 5 in the morning), and I applied that new knowledge to excellent effect. I grabbed a wheel, passed, grabbed another wheel, passed, looking for a rabbit to chase. Going into the first grassy section, I was sitting in third position, with a fair gap back to the next woman. But as soon as we hit that first section, I knew that I was in trouble. The two women in front of me were much, much stronger. My body was already sending me messages: "Too much! Too soon! Abort! Abort!" I let them get ahead a little bit and tried to find a manageable pace. All my lines were good, but my power was not. I was already tasting blood, and could feel bile stirring up in my stomach. Coming through the second section of trees, the girl in fourth was right behind me. I let her go ahead, saying as she passed, "I already feel like I'm gonna throw up." This may have been about a quarter into the first lap.

I still had a fair gap back to the next two girls, two women from Free State. I probably had a 20 second gap on them. One was working her way up to me, and she passed me sometime around the second lap. Coming to the pair of barriers on the third lap, I fell while trying to remount my bike, and jammed my knee right down into my frame, between the top tube and down tube. It hurt enough that I pulled off to the side to assess the damage. My quad was definitely sore, and my shin was definitely bruised. It was stiff as I started pedaling again, but it worked out quickly. The other Free State gal had passed me at the barriers as I was pulling off to the side, and I was anxious to keep contact with her. She and I traded positions through laps 3 and 4, chatting as we passed and re-passed. I can't repeat all the things that were said, but we were both grateful when the masters men lapped us and we had a lap taken off of our race.

After lap 4, I was still in the lead over the FSR chick. I hammered through the tarmac, trying to put as much time into her as I could. I backed off the gas once I got into the grass, then focused on taking the best line and doing whatever was necessary to hold her off. She was within 10-15 seconds going into the Mound of Mercy for the last time, and I thought she was going to catch me on the final run-up. Fortunately, I was willing to suffer enough to hold her off, and once I got onto the last downhill, I was golden. Crossed the line in 6th place, after 5 laps and about 48 minutes of racing.



As often happens in these maximal exertion type races, everything has kind of blurred together into one long stretch of vague pain. I remember my one little fall. I remember the few passes. I remember a few of the lines I took on the off-camber portions, and the run-ups on the Mound of Mercy. I remember letting one girl pass me, because I figured she was racing as a junior. Silly me, the juniors' race didn't start until 12:15, so this girl (maybe 13-14) was racing as cat. 4 woman. I felt totally stupid when I saw the results, because I could have ridden the girl down--I was passing and re-passing her the whole time--but I didn't bother because I didn't think that it was worth it.

This course was tough for me. All that grass was really draining. Talking to another athlete after the race, she mentioned that it was "a real power course." I hadn't thought about it in those terms, before, but she was right. And the need for constant power really took its toll on me throughout the race. But the greatest limiter to my performance in this race was the inability to keep contact with the next rider, mentally. I found myself in no-man's land several times in the race, and its because I lack the mental toughness to pull a few extra watts out of my legs to hand on to another cyclist's wheel. If they're tough enough to pass me, then they must be tough enough to keep going. And I guess that in my head, I'm not that tough.

My goal for next weekend (Smithville Cross Festival) is to better maintain contact. If the course is anything like last year's, it should be good for me. A start on the pavement, some tricky handling work, a little bit of singletrack, and a good set of barriers. It's got that one steep run-up, so I'll need to find the lugs for my shoes. And it wouldn't hurt to practice a few steep run-ups at Sim Park cross practice this weekend.

Okay. I know what I need to do next time. I'm set.

The Next Step: Coaching

http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevendepolo/ / CC BY 2.0

First off, Joe Friel (author of the Training Bible series) just did a few blog posts on how to choose the right coach; you should check it out.

As for me, the economy has not been kind to personal trainers (or not to me, anyway, but my sales skills are pretty paltry), and I can't afford a coach. There's nothing wrong with coaching yourself; that's what most of us do anyway. But there's no denying the efficacy of hiring a good coach to make you faster.

With that in mind . . . 

I've been giving some thought to something that Speedy said . . . something about not wanting to waste $200/month just to have some schmuck who's read The Triathlete's Training Bible impose rigid periodization on her. Or something. In other words, someone who's learned things from experience and from Triathlete Magazine; someone who's had success as a coach, but also as an athlete; someone who's actually (you know) been there.

Well I've been there in terms of personal training, but not in coaching.

Sure, I've coached plenty of athletes to their first triathlon, their first half marathon, even their first half ironman. But I haven't really taken an athlete and made him or her faster and stronger through my ingenuity and their hard work.

Which is why I need you.

I need experience, and you need coaching. So I'm extending an offer of 6 months of free coaching to two athletes (don't want to spread myself any thinner than that). There are a few requirements for this coaching. You have to have done some racing before (you need to be at the "next step" phase of training). You have to be willing to work hard. You have to have a good amount of patience with me, as I'm going to be figuring my coaching process and style out. And you need to live at least 50 miles away from me (so we don't run into trouble with my non-compete contract).

If you're interested in being one of my two coached athletes, send me an e-mail (jamielynnmorton[at]gmail[dot]com). Include your name, e-mail address, a phone number where I can reach you, and why you want to be coached. And we can go from there.

The Next Step: Chasing it Down

It's not enough for you to be able to swim, bike, and run faster than you are now; hell, it's not even enough for you to go faster than the competition. Your best pace in a tempo run, your smoothest technique in the open water, your fastest speed on your bike isn't going to matter a lick if you can't call upon it (and a little more) when race day rolls around.

Triathlon is an inherently painful sport; all endurance sports, actually, entail more suffering than most humans (at least humans in our culture) are comfortable with. So when the intense discomfort of racing near your limits smacks you in the face, what do you turn to? How do you ensure that the hard work you've put in leading to your A race doesn't fizzle out when you need it most?

One way is to establish a rival. This is what I did for the Boathouse International Triathlon. I checked the list of registered athletes for women in my age group; I looked up their USAT rankings and previous race performances, trying to determine which ones would pose a threat. I found race pictures of them online and posted them above my desk (note: this creeps people out) with their times from races I'd also been at last year. Seriously. Ask my co-workers and clients. I had to look at those pictures every day, and before going out on training runs, I would see those photos and get a surge of adrenaline that told me, You want it more than they do.

Another method I've used with great success is focusing on a mantra--a phrase you repeat to yourself constantly to drown out the noise of pain and stink of lactate in your body. The best one I've found so far is "Trust the work"; that's what brought me through my first 70.3. But you can use any phrase that you find appealing. Works best when it's short, succinct, and burns an image in your brain. One of my athletes likes to use "Slow and steady"; another took herself through her first tri with the phrase "Home stretch." Keep it appropriate to your goals, though; if you're looking to podium for the first time, "Just finish" is probably not going to be immensely helpful to you.

My favorite method is to get a song stuck in my head. This can be tricky, if you're not a particularly musical person. It can also disrupt your rhythm if you try to match your cadence to an inappropriate song. And I've found that I can't always choose what song ends up swirling around in my brain (it's been this one in every workout I've done for the past two weeks, which is downright annoying). But when your brain hits on the right song--maybe something from your pre-race playlist--and it keeps coming back to (again) drown out the noise of your body, it's golden.

A key thing to note is that different methods are going to work differently for each individual. Personally, the rivalry thing doesn't prompt me to push myself into the realms of true pain. Speedy, on the other hand, thrives on that kind of competition. "Trust the work" brought me to a new half marathon PR, because I knew that I could run 2:15, and I just had to stay on the pace I knew I could run. But when you're racing against other people, it's less effective, because you have to trust that your work is also better than theirs. My most successful method is the song, because I can completely let go and take my brain out of my body. I still have to maintain enough focus and awareness to keep the legs turning over, but I no longer have to think about how bad it's hurting or how much I want it to be over already.

At this point, all I can do is offer you these three strategies, with examples of how they've worked for me. But I'm sure there are other strategies out there. Best bet is to ask more experienced athletes what they do to push themselves through the pain to the next level on race day. Experienced athletes, do you have anything to add? How do you mentally prepare for and execute your race in order to get the most out of training?

The Next Step: Single-Sport Focus

 

This is the standard view for me when riding with the full-time cyclists.

You are a triathlete. That means you train for three sports simultaneously. You are (as one of my friends once put it) striving to be solidly mediocre in three sports. That means that when you pit yourself up against dedicated swimmers, focused cyclists, and well-trained runners, you are probably going to come up short. Why? Because you're not trying to be the best swimmer, biker, or runner; you're trying to be the best triathlete.

But when the triathlon season is over, there's no reason to continue to pursue adequate mediocrity in three sports at once. Why not focus on just one sport, and get really, really good at it? What if you can make your "solidly mediocre" as good as a single-sport athletes' top performance?

It was this step, more than any other, that brought me more success as a multisport athlete. Running was always my weakness. I didn't like it; I didn't want to do it; it was my primary limiter in every race I did.

But I signed up for a half marathon anyway. And then I did another one. And somewhere in that training to go long, I encountered a runner within myself that I didn't know existed. I started to enjoy running, to look forward to it, to consider myself a runner. Of course, once the triathlon season came back around, I became (once again) a triathlete. But the hard work I'd put in and the improvement I'd seen stuck around, and by this season, I was running 8:30/mile instead of 9:20.

My guess is that for most triathletes who weren't previously athletic, running is the limiter. If you came from a running or cycling background, swimming is probably your biggest struggle. If cycling is your weakness, that's completely legitimate, too. Whatever your weakest sport is, you need to figure that out (I bet you already know it, if you think about it). My recommendation to you is that you do an end-of-season focus on that sport.

The alternative to choosing your weakness is to choose what you like. You probably won't see as much benefit going into next season, as far as catching up to your competition, but you will still come back stronger, more capable, and more confident in your abilities. Last year, I focused on a half marathon at the end of the season, and it saw my average speed drop by 50-60 seconds per mile; this season, I'm focusing on cyclocross and group riding, and I think by the end of next season, I can easily be averaging 22 MPH. That's not going to provide as great an edge as if I were to drop my run times by another 30 seconds per mile. But cyclocross is fun and I'm enjoying racing with my cycling team. (FYI, I'm planning to do a half marathon and marathon after the cyclocross season).

Once you figure out which sport you're going to focus on, here's what you do:

Swim: Find a swim meet in your area or close enough to drive to. Determine which events you'll compete in. Challenge yourself! Don't do three long-distance freestyle events; try the 100 breaststroke, or the 200 IM. Developing your skills in the other competitive swim strokes will give you more overall strength and confidence in the coming year, as well as balance out your muscular engagement (which will reduce your chance of shoulder injury).

From there, you have two options: join a masters swim team and work with them on preparing to race your target meet, or prepare on your own. If you're going to prepare on your own, you need to make a plan. It could be as simple as committing to swim 5 days a week; it could be as involved as building a periodized schedule with weekly yardage and daily training objectives. Read up on swimming--coaching techniques, tapering, stroke mechanics, and so on. The more you learn about your swim stroke from this phase, the more you'll have to bring into your next tri season. If you're going with a masters group, be sure your coach knows about your plans and goals; he or she might not write up a whole plan for you, but you'll get some more specific help in workouts, and maybe even some workouts written with you especially in mind.

Bike: Again, you pick an event. It might be a race. It might be a series of races. It might be a tour; check at a local bike shop, as they'll usually have flyers up, or will at least know the cycling scuttlebutt. Whatever your event, commit to it (psst: that means go ahead and register!). Once you've chosen what to do, start riding with a group. Start with a casual, local ride; again, check with a local bike shop. Be sure to ascertain what kind of pace the group keeps (you need to be able to hang in) and what kind of purposes the ride serves. If you're racing (as opposed to doing a long tour), I highly recommend you find a friend who's into the cycling scene and has some experience with racing. Cycling races aren't quite as beginner-friendly (and not nearly as welcoming) as triathlons. Be prepared for that.

Commit yourself to getting out of your comfort zone. If you're used to riding triathlon-style, you probably prefer to train by yourself. You're not necessarily used to hanging in a draft; you don't often need to feel responsible for holding your line. These are things that are valuable for a triathlete to learn and be comfortable with, just likes it's beneficial to be able to swim all four competitive strokes (yes, even butterfly).

Run: This is probably the easiest of the three to focus on in the off-season. You have a few options available to you as far as how you pursue this emphasis, but all of them start with the same basic premise: choose an event! Maybe you want to gun for a PR at the mile, 5k, or 10k distances. Maybe you want to run your first marathon or half marathon. Maybe you want to try something new, like trail running. Whichever it is, choose an event and commit to it (yep, that means register)!

If you're prepping for a PR, you should already have run the distance you'll be gunning for. You should have an appropriate base of distance built up. And you should already have been working in some intensity (i.e. sprints, intervals, track work). Set up a detailed plan with a couple of speed workouts a week, a long run that isn't more than 50% of your weekly volume, and some cross-training. If you're looking for speed, I recommend 5 days of running per week; if you're not running at least 4, are you really doing a single-sport focus?

If you're shooting for your first half marathon or marathon, it's all about building distance slowly and safely. Otherwise you get hurt. Plan on 3-5 days of running per week, with at least 2 days of cross-training. Look not so much at daily volume as weekly volume, especially at the beginning. The long run becomes all-important eventually, but at first you need to accustom your body to taking so many miles. When in doubt, take it slow. Never increase weekly mileage by more than 10%; never increase your longest run by more than 10%. And don't do all your mileage in one big, long run!

The main physiological benefit you derive from a single-sport focus (in my opinion) is putting in all the time. Because you're not dividing yourself (at least) three ways (we're not even getting into weight lifting, flexibility, yoga, and bricks), you have a lot more time and energy to devote to quality workouts in a single sport. And that leads to big improvement fast.

But equally important is the psychological benefit--you become more confident. I went last year from claiming that my strength was transitions to firmly believing "I am a runner!" And the same will happen to you, whether you choose to spend this season focusing on swimming, biking, or running (or something else entirely; why not focus on weight lifting or yoga?).

So. Which one will you be doing?

The Next Step: Race to Train

Last time, I discussed the need to train like you race; the day of an event is not an effective time to try out new ideas.

The other side of that equation is to race the way you train. But if you ask me, the relationship between the two is not exactly reciprocal. For example, let's say you do some tempo runs--that is, runs at race pace. And in these tempo runs, you keep your heart rate at around 165 BPM. But then you go out to a race, and end up averaging 171 for 5k. You don't blow up and you don't feel like you worked that much harder, but your heart rate ends up being outside of your race pace zone. You didn't race the way you trained.


There's nothing wrong with that. Racing presents a different mindset and different conditions and a different environment than you encounter in everyday training. And on some level, you can't train for that.

Which is why, if you want to get faster, at some point you start racing to train.

Think about it. Not every race is top priority for pros; you can't expect them to peak for Timberman the same way they peak for Kona. They have A priority races and B priority races and C priority races . . . they might do some races just for fun, some for the community, some for the money, and some for the fame. And while we age groupers may not be peaking hard core so we can be in top shape to win $200,000, we can take a lesson from this.

Long story short? Race as much as you want to. Race as much as you can afford to. Race as much as you can.

That includes single-sport racing. So you've got a 5-mile tempo run scheduled for Saturday? Why not hit your local 5k, with a mile to warm up and a mile to cool down? It's not that you're trying to set a new 5k PR at Podunkville's Summer Fun Run; it's that it gives you an opportunity to practice the race-day thrill, the competitive environment, and the surge of adrenaline as you toe the starting line.

I've found that the more I've raced, the more comfortable I've become with racing. At a certain point, you (I hope) got over the newbie nerves--not the butterflies in the stomach that flutter as you approach the big day (those are fun), but the feeling that everyone at the race is faster than you, better than you, and knows more about what they're doing. The next step is to perceive yourself as someone who is faster, better, and knows what he/she is doing. That gives you a confidence and a presence that (I think) translates to faster times and more intense races (it has for me, at any rate).

There are a few drawbacks to the race-to-train mentality. For one thing, it's expensive. Let's say you want to race a tri a month (probably $50 minimum for entry fee, not to mention travel, nutrition, and accommodations), then also do a race-to-train 5k ($20-$30, probably) and a local road race or time trial ($20-$30). Congratulations. You've just racked up $100 in one month just on race entry. And that's assuming that your races were pretty cheap and you didn't have to travel.

So how do you get around that? You go with a group, and everyone in the group has the understanding that you're going balls-to-the-wall and racing. It's easy to find a group cycling ride that has that mentality, but don't go there unless you have a road bike (take the damn aero bars off, for God's sake), have decent handling skills, are comfortable riding in a pack, and can hold 18-20 MPH. Not every cyclist-centric group ride is going to have those requirements, but based on my experience with group cycling workouts, if you don't have those things, you're not going to have much fun (and you may end up in a crash or--even worse--causing a crash). 

Alternatives: go out with a group of triathletes for a no-drafting casual "group" race. You won't get to catch up with Steve about how his two kids are doing in cross country, but you'll have raced to train (sort of) without having to drop $20 on a time trial. You can also look for a semi-formal time trial; Wichita has one (every other Tuesday, 6:30 p.m., see www.aircapitalracing.com for details), so I assume that they have them just about everywhere. They're free, they're timed, and someone will hold your bike for you so you can do a fancy TT start.

Competitive running groups (it seems) are harder to come by. Maybe there's a running or tri club that does regular track workouts you can join; those always end up as races at our track workouts. Same goes for Masters swimming; I know sometimes the atmosphere in a lane can get pretty competitive. Or you could do a "catch me if you can!" set.

These aren't perfect replacements for regular racing, but if money is a concern, it's probably worth it to sacrifice perfect preparation for the hundreds of dollars in entry fees you'll save. 


A fear I had as I got more into racing and became more and more confident in my abilities was that I'd lose the nervous thrill that comes before a race. I remember being completely unable to sleep the night before my first race. I had strange dreams that I was running late and didn't get to start on time. I was nervous in the week leading up to it. And I was so keyed up on race day that I could barely speak.


My experience has been that I don't (usually) get very worked up for the B and C priority races. But when it comes time for the A game, the nerves go into full swing. I don't think that feeling ever really goes away; I hope it doesn't.


When it comes right down to it, nothing is going to prepare you for racing like racing will. So be prepared to fill in your schedule a little, next year. Give yourself the depth of experience to present your best at next season's A race.

The Next Step: Train to Race

Train like you race, race like you train. Have aerobars on your bike? Better try 'em out in training before you attempt to get down in them during a race. Doing a race that'll take you longer than 90 minutes? Be sure you practice your nutrition strategy--both in terms of what you eat and when you eat--sometime before the big day. Planning to wear a sombrero for the Cinco de Mayo Splash 'n' Dash? Okay, maybe you don't need to do your training runs around town in a sombrero. That might earn you some strange looks. And heaven knows we don't need to give motorists any more excuses to try to run us off the roads.

Specificity is an important element of training for any sport. Every sport requires (in some measure) the basic elements of strength, speed, and endurance. So every serious, successful athlete trains all three, at least a little bit. I remember having to run a mile and a half in football conditioning (hated it). But we spent a lot more time lifting weights for football, because strength is way more important than endurance when you're only running far enough to hit the person directly across from you.

You could probably have figured this out on your own, but triathlon is primarily a sport of endurance. Hence long bikes, long runs, long swims. Coincidentally, of strength, speed, and endurance, the most effective training is to put endurance first, then strength, then speed. But that doesn't mean that triathletes never need to work on strength, or on speed.


If you've been doing this sport long enough to want to get better, you've been in it long enough to know you can go the distance. You've got the endurance to run a 10k or bike 50 miles or whatever the case may be. What you don't have is speed at those distances.


Here's where the specificity comes in. Let's say you want to be able to run a 10k in under 60 minutes. That's a pretty good goal, right? So you need to run 6.2 miles at a sub-10:00-minute pace. But you do all of your training runs at a pace of around 10:15/mile. Now there's definitely something to be said for race-day adrenaline, or whatever it is that allows us to outperform our best training at a big event. But if you can't do a 3-mile tempo run at 9:40 pace, what makes you think you're going to be able to go twice that far after swimming and biking for an hour?


It's been my experience that you get so comfortable with your long, steady pace when you're training endurance that it can be hard to shift out of that gear and into a speedier one. I started paying a little bit closer attention to my heart rate on training runs, and realized I wasn't getting my heart rate up quite as high as I was supposed to. I had built a really good base, had good endurance, and that had prompted better efficiency and less effort at my base-building pace. One day, during a mid-distance run (probably 6 miles), I decided to push a little bit to see what it would take to get my heart rate in the target zone. Ended up doing my six-mile run on about a 9:20 pace. I'd been doing all my runs right around 10:00. Had no idea I could hold 9:20 for 6 miles. After that, I was more willing and able to push on my runs, especially the long ones.


Practically speaking, there are a few things you can do. Train with a heart rate monitor. Know your heart rate zones. And know which one you need to be in for each workout.


Pace is a little bit trickier to measure, at least on the run (if you have a decent cycle computer on your bike, you're set); generally, you don't know what your pace was until you can get a split, whether that's at a mile marker or half mile marker or what have you. If you want to drop some money to improve your training, you could always get a fancy-schmancy GPS device that'll tell you your pace while you're running. But that's not strictly necessary. What you can do is have a sense of where in your run you are. If there's a Dunkin' Donuts half a mile into your run, you should know that. And not so you can stop for a little carbohydrate pick-me-up, but so you can check your watch and say to yourself, "Okay, 4:50 for that first half mile; that's probably about right." Or pick it up/slow it down appropriately.


There's more to specificity of training than what I've covered here, of course. But we want to look at the things that'll make you faster in a big-picture sense, and making sure you hit the appropriate training intensity and pace in your workouts will do that for you.


A quick note: this article is written mostly from the point of view of improving the run. When trying to hit the right numbers on your bike, you'll need to pay attention primarily to your heart rate or power meter (if you have one), because speed is so variable depending on wind and terrain. With swimming, you'll want to watch your pace more carefully, because heart rate can be unreliable underwater. Something to do with vascular pressure.

The Next Step: Consistency

On Friday, I started a little series on how to take your racing from "Yay! I finished!" to "Sweet! I'm in the top third of the field for the first time ever!"

It begins with consistency, just like with most improvements in fitness. If you're like me, you came into tri with no previous background in sport (and if you're not like me, most of this series probably won't help you anyway), which means no athletic base to speak of. Any working out you do when you're just getting started will be beneficial, so try to do something every day, even if it's not swimming, biking, or running. Maybe try a group fitness class like cycling or kickboxing. I remember the first year I was training (junior year of college), and I was starting to really think that I could handle anything that fell within the realm of "cardio." One of my friends from my a cappella group invited me to her cardio kickboxing class. And for some reason, I thought it would be easy (surely it wouldn't hold a candle to a transition run). I got my ass kicked.

So I did the class a few more times.

In terms of training principles, the kickboxing class wasn't specific to what I wanted to accomplish. It wasn't swimming, biking, or running. It wasn't the appropriate intensity to get me the aerobic base (zone 2, anyone?) that I most needed at that stage in my training; my heart rate was through the roof the whole time. Those classes didn't fit into my training in any way that The Triathlete's Training Bible would suggest. But doing those classes gave me a confidence that I wouldn't otherwise have had; yes--I really could make it through 45 minutes of cardio hell.

Point is, when you're just starting, it's not so important what you do as just doing it. If you have time to get in a two-hour ride on Saturday morning, great. If you oversleep and miss that two-hour window but you can hit a spinning class later in the day, then do that. The spinning class won't be as specific to triathlon (and therefore less effective than getting out on your bike), but it's still good.

Another aspect of consistency is maintenance. If you're consistent for a month and then lose it, you're not going to see the improvement you want. Through most of my first two years in the sport, my running was especially inconsistent. I would start the season with the best of intentions, with three runs a week. Two months into my training plan, the only workout I was still hitting consistently was a weekly track workout--no long run, no tempo run, no easy run, no group run . . . and then I wondered why I wasn't seeing as much improvement in my run as my teammates.

A lot of maintaining that kind of consistency--hitting all of the workouts you want to do, week in and week out--has more to do with fun than with motivation. If you're looking forward to that 4-mile run, you're much more likely to get out and do it! How do you make workouts more fun? Easiest way is to do them with other people. Find a training group in your area. Even if it's runners or cyclists (as opposed to triathletes), find a group and start working your way into their workouts. Be sure, however, that you find athletes who are of similar abilities; running alone because you got dropped by the rest of the group after 5 minutes will be even less fun than running alone would have been.

So here's a quick run-down of how to improve your speed with consistency:

• Do something every day, even if it's not swimming, biking, or running (taking one day off per week is fine).
• Stay consistent day-to-day, week-to-week by hitting all of your scheduled workouts (even if "scheduled" is just in your head, not on a fancy-schmancy training plan).
• Find a group workout or two to help you hit your goal workouts.

Do you have questions? Ideas? Vicious insults? Sound off in the comments, or send me an e-mail at jamielynnmorton[at]gmail[dot]com.

Runner's High: No Big Deal

I can remember when a 10-mile run was a huge undertaking. Hell, I can remember my first 10k, which at the time was the farthest I'd ever run. Oh, and it was in my first-ever Olympic distance race (stupid, stupid, stupid).

Last Saturday, I headed out to Derby with one of the athletes I coach for a moderately-paced 10-miler. Weather was perfect, if a little humid: minimal wind, overcast, and cool. There's a surprising amount of elevation change in Derby, so the course I planned was pretty challenging.

And know what? It was no big deal. It was a 10-mile run, and it was no big deal. Which, when you're looking at training for an Ironman (and I'm not, by any means, saying that I am or will be any time soon), should be expected. Because 10 miles is really not that far.

On the other hand, 10 miles is HUGE! That's more distance at once than most people--even most everyday runners--will ever consider doing! And when I consider the fact that two years ago I had never run more than 6 miles at a time . . . that's pretty cool.

Okay, now that I've written that out, it really seems like not a big deal. I feel a little silly.

Silly, but still awesome. 

Race Report: Mudwater '09

I consider this race to be vindication for last weekend's missed opportunities. Could not have asked for better weather, better atmosphere, or a better performance from myself.

Pre-race

Since my parents missed church last week, I was on my own for this week's festivities. I prepped everything (including breakfast) solo, the house dark. The advantage? I got out at exactly the time I wanted to leave.

Breakfast was peanut butter and toast, by the way.

I got to the lake while it was still mostly dark, just as it should be. There were only a couple dozen people there (not including volunteers), at that point, so I had my pick of parking. Early arrival was a great advantage because there were no assigned rack spaces, so I got my pick of bike racks, too. I chose a spot that was farthest from the swim out, with a straight shot to the bike out.

I went through the normal pre-race rituals--packet pick-up, setting up transition, easy warm-up jog--and by the time I'd gotten through all that, transition was filling up. Mudwater is a great race for locals. There are a few competitors who come from Oklahoma or Missouri, but most live in or around Wichita. This race is in its third year, the field has been limited to 250 participants, and it is really becoming our race. Which is an amazing thing to behold.

First-timers represented about 40% of the field, between the tri and du, and two of those first-timers were my clients! I also met a reader (first time that's ever happened) who was doing her first tri; good work, Stacy (and did I spell that right?)! I cannot put into words my pride at convincing people to do this crazy sport. Always amazes me.

My own feelings leading up to the starting gun (a shotgun, by the way) were of excitement. No nervousness. The brooding energy that I had stored up for a week due to the inclement weather at last week's event was finally harnessed, concentrated. I felt wound up like a slinky at the top of the stairs; just tip me over and away I go!

Swim: 750 m, 14:23 (1:55/100 m); 13/51 F overall
Last year: 15:36
Weather could not have been better. Water temperature was 84 degrees, which is a little warm. But I had no problems with overheating. Last year, we had a beach start; this year, we started in the water. At the shotgun, I dove right in (I'd made sure I was deep enough that I wouldn't have to run or dolphin dive before I started swimming). I tried to surge, tried to get myself out of the anticipated mass of humanity. But after taking several strokes and turning my head to breathe, and beheld (to my amazement) a whole crowd of women who were walking (not running!) through the water. What the hell?! Dive, ladies, dive!

Needless to say, I had clear water for the first part of the swim. I was, however, able to jump on the heels of a few women who were just enough faster than me to be of benefit. I lost them once we caught up to the few stragglers from the wave before us. I felt fast and strong throughout the swim. I gave just enough energy to maximize my time in the water without spending too much energy and suffering later. I dolphin dove to the shore (pretty sure I'm the only one at this race who does that; when I was coming out there were still people walking in to the shallows) and sprinted up the slight incline to transition. In my mind, I was a famous ITU athlete, tall and athletic and strong.

T1: 47 sec; 3/51 F overall
Last year: 35 seconds

Bike: 25 km, 44:53 (20.8 MPH); 6/51 F overall
Last year: 20 km, 38:24 (19.4 MPH)
It wasn't until the beginning of last week that I realized the bike was 25k, not 20k, like I'd expected. But what difference does an extra 5 km make, right?

Coming out of the park was a blast; I sailed past a few of the men, scrambling to get my feet into my shoes. I took the sharp left-hand turn out of the park like a pro--butt to the side, low over the handle bars, upper body relaxed. Right out of the driveway, there's a slight hill (very slight; remember where we are, after all). I powered up it like it wasn't even there. About 5 km into the bike ride, another woman crept by me. As she passed me, I noticed the age on the back of her leg. 47. "No way!" I thought to myself. Not that I don't think a 47-year-old woman should be able to pass me; it's just that I wasn't going to let it happen on that day. I motored by her at the next downhill and spent the rest of the bike course keeping my foot on the figurative accelerator, just daring her to try to pass me again.

I wasn't passed by another woman the whole time.

Like I said before--the weather was perfect. On back side of the bike, we had a little bit of east wind, and I saw my speed drop significantly (no more average speeds in the mid-20s!). It was frustrating, and I was hurting a little bit. I definitely felt like I lost steam on the second half of the bike. I spent a lot of time worrying that I was putting too much into my second leg, and wouldn't have enough energy left to have the kind of run I knew I could put in this year. My calves and hamstrings were tight and cranky, and I've discovered that the bike is both my strength and my weakness--I can put a lot of time into the competition when on two wheels, but I sometimes push too hard and pay the price on the run.

Turning back into the park (a little less than a mile from T2), I dropped gears and started spinning my legs out. Got my feet out of my shoes and had some of the men pass me, but knew that I would re-gain that time in transition.

T2: 30 sec; 6/51 F overall
Last year: 49 sec
Nailed the flying dismount like a pro, but then had so much speed that I overshot my rack space by a few feet and had to run back towards it. Still, pretty damn fast, don't you think?

Run: 5 km, 26:24 (8:29/mile); 22/51 F overall
Last year: 31:05
This was the highlight of the race. Not because I'm super fast, mind you; this is my weakest leg, relative to the rest of the women's field. But because it's just so much better than last year. That's a minute and a half faster per mile than what I was doing last year. I am totally happy with and excited about the progress I've made this year in the run. My biking and swimming times are better, but not that much better than last year's. But my run? My run has improved in leaps and bounds.

My one point of contention with myself came in the last quarter mile or so. I was within sight of the finish line, and a big clydesdale came clomping past me. He works out at my gym; I see him around all the time. He was at IMKS. He was running just a little bit faster than me. I tucked in behind him, his huge frame in the foreground, the finish line behind. I stayed with him for maybe 50 yards, and then he started to pull away. And I decided that it hurt too bad, he was too fast, and I let him go.

I shouldn't have let him go. I could have kept that speed for another 300-400 m. I could do anything for another 300-400 m. It's only a few minutes in time. I can suffer for a few minutes in time. So looking back, that's my one disappointment. I should have followed him in to the finish instead of letting him go.

But other than that, I thought I was very willing and able to accept the pain that should come in a sprint tri. I determined early in the bike that I would go to that place of intensity and focus, and felt like I was actually able to do it this time.

The best part, as always, is the last few yards before the finish. I come closer and closer, the crowd getting nearer and the end within reach; I always think, "I'm not going to be able to do it, this time; I don't have enough left for a strong kick." And every time, usually in the last 20-40 meters, I find that I do have enough left. The exhaustion of all the miles leading up to that point falls away, and I find myself capable of anything.

I love that feeling.

Final: 1:26:58
Last year: 1:26:31 (with 5 km less on the bike)
Two years ago, I was looking at the results from Shawnee Mission and trying to decide how well I could realistically do, if I were able to achieve what I considered to be my potential. I looked at times from previous finishers. I looked at the overall. I looked at the age groups. And I decided that if I could swim at a 2:00/100 m pace (which I knew I could) and bike at 20 MPH (which I was sure I could) and work my way down to an 8:30/mile pace on the run (which I thought was possible) . . .

I could potentially work my way in to the top ten overall women.

Take a look at the times above, and then check it out.

2nd place F 20-24 (of 6, minus Bridget Ballard, the overall women's winner)
7th F overall (out of 51, not including the duathlon babes)

So there you have it. It didn't happen at Shawnee Mission (which, admittedly, is a much more competitive race than Wichita's favorite tri), but who's to say that I couldn't have done similarly well on that course on that day? I think I have it in me.

Of course I have my sights set lower, now. Because theoretically, I'm sure I could swim a 1:45/100. And bike 22 MPH. And run sub-8:00 . . .