Triblog

As a self-coached athlete, I sometimes have discussions with my coach (me) about macro and micro issues. Today, I consulted him about whether I should do the long run I had scheduled.

“Hey coach; wake up!” (apparently, despite my two hours more than my usual 7 hours of sleep last night, he was still dozing.)

“Mpmph”

“Look, I’ve filled all the water bottles, brought my salt pills, got some Gu and Shot Bloks, strapped on the HR monitor, primed the Garmin, slathered the sunscreen on, and driven down valley [2000' lower in elevation @ 6400'], and don’t know if I can do this.”

I was getting out of the car for a planned 2 hour long run. The EN plan said 2.5 hours, but since I was just three days into my 12 weeks at altitude, and I was planning on doing only one more run over 2 hours this IM cycle [week 7/12], I thought I’d switch weeks 7&8. Last week, I’d included a full race rehearsal on Wed, and then on Sat, a 2 hr 20 min run @ my quickest pace ever. On Monday, I did not have the energy to complete a 3 x 1 mile tun session, on Tuesday, I spent all day traveling to Colorado, and then on Wed and Thurs, I’d ridden up and down the valleys here for a total of 8 hours, with 1.5 hours of running as well. On one of those rides, I’d fallen off my bike (not a crash, but some skin abrasions on my R elbow, knee, and hip, as well as a little muscle soreness.) Yesterday from 3 thru 8 PM, I spent practically the entire time eating and drinking, and still my weight this morning was down 1 pound.

I checked my Performance Management Chart on WKO+, and found that while my Acute Training Load was not that “high”, my Chronic Training Load was at the high point I had reached in my previous training cycle, for IM CDA, 3 weeks before the race, at the end of another Colorado training camp. And myTraining Stress Balance had plummeted from +6 to -26 in the past two days.

My arms were sore, my legs felt tired, my left quad felt a little tweaked. But, since I had to go down tot he grocery store to pick up some things for my sister, who would be arriving in the afternoon, I decided to at least try and run and see what happened.

What happened was, I got a mile up the path, saw my speed was slow, my HR was stable, but I did not feel like continuing. Since I was going uphill, I turned around to see what happened downhill. I didn’t go much faster, but my HR was starting to shoot up, and I did NOT feel like running another step. So I walked the mile back to the car.

During that walk, I consulted my coach.

“You know, I don’t like to take days off; it makes me feel guilty. Convince me I shouldn’t continue this run.”

“Can you please re-read what you just wrote above [what I'd been thinking while walking] – why are you even asking!?”

“What about those pros who can do 3, 4 5 or more IM’s a year, what about them. I mean, I’m as successful as they are, aren’t I? Shouldn’t I be using them for my model?”

“Well, they’re half your age and train 30+ hours a week!”

“Ok, what about those guys OLDER than me who do 3 or 4 IMs a year?”

“How fast are they going – 12-13 hours for an IM, right? You’re training to race @ 10:50-11:30 times. Look, you’ve been going non-stop since that year you took it “easy” and only did one IM, after your foot surgery, 2007. Since then, it’s been go, go, go, three big races a year, all at peak performance level. Don’t you think you deserve to get tired now and then? And what’s more important, the race result, or this run today?”

“But how do I know I’ll be able to race well in October if I don’t do this run?”

“You don’t, but you’ll have to trust me. I mean, we’ve gotten this far successfully, cut me a little slack. Go grocery shopping, go home, eat and drink some more, pick your friends up from the airport, and enjoy the concerts this weekend. Try an easy bike tomorrow morning, and then get ready for your big tri week starting Monday. Check that CTL – you’ve got a bit of reserve to play with, and can focus on quality, not quantity at this point.”

He was right of course. Despite not running, I drank the entire 32 oz sport drink I’d brought with me, and still did not feel full. While driving home, I started to get fasiculations in my calf muscles, which usually only happens when I have pushed myself to the limit, like after an especially hard race. I’m clearly teetering over the abyss, and do not want to fall in. I may not be able to assuage the guilt, but at least I’ll get rested today

Summer ends quickly in my world. Both in the Pac NW, and in the Brush Creek valley, August can’t seem to leave soon enough. The warm days of summer, if indeed there are any, are so rare that one must be fully present in them, or they disappear like the yearling deer bounding out of our back yard at the slightest tremor from the house.

Every since we lost our last dog, the deer have adopted our woods. Right now, there are two buddies who browse through every now and then. One has been with us for three summers now – he’s got three points on his antlers. The other, who may  be his half brother, has one growing antler on the left, and a shorter nubbin on the right. He looks to his older sibling for cues on where to go, what to eat, and when to leave. I never see them apart, and can only assume that they have strength in numbers. If this buddy plan will last through fall rutting season, I don’t know.

Tuesday, the day I left, was the last day of August, and the first real day of rain we’d had for a couple of months. The usual 55F, dripping forever rain, not enough to soak you in a minute, but surely enough to thoroughly drench anyone foolhardy enough to stay out camping for a long weekend. Arriving in Colorado, I encountered what must be the last day of the monsoon season, that time of year when southerly air flows bring tropical moisture in and create massive thunderheads and drenching afternoon storms. No rain yesterday here, but the clouds provided a sweet roller derby ride over the Divide.

Then this morning, the clouds had gone, and the temp fell down to 44F, but briskly rose with the full-throated sun. Just occasional little last gasp clouds, nothing to cool me off as I did my warm up ride from Snowmass Village down thru Woody Creek and Old Snowmass, on up the the twin climbs of Capitol and Snowmass Creeks, then back home again.

This is my favorite ride to start the Big Bike Week, but for some reason, I lost a little focus an hour into it. Coming down Lower River Road with no wind on the downhill yet, the Roaring Fork burbling gently on my left, I took a quick peek at my power meter – something I do every minute or so. But this time, when I looked up, I saw my front wheel was at the edge of the road, and heading towards the gravelly drop-off into the ditch separating River Rd from the Rio Grande Trail, five feet to my right.

Amidst a shower of curses, i tried vainly to move my hands quickly enough from the aero bars onto the bull horns, where I could actually steer. I saw I had no chance to brake and turn, that would only drop me flat into the ditch. My only hope was to ride at an angle two feet down, then back up through the sparse weeds and squirelly rocks. I made it down OK, but trying to get up the hill, at an angle, dropped me to the right.

More curses, as I knew now I was going down, and faced not only pain and ripped skin, but possibly an end to my ride or even my Big Training Week.

I ended up sliding, as usual, with my down-side hand and arm outstretched, rolling slowly to my back. I wanted desperately to avoid hitting right on the head of my femur (the point of my hip), as that disrupts both running and riding a LOT! I lay there, diagonally across the bike path, hoping that no one would come rumbling along, as I did not want to move. I didn’t even want to open my eyes. I waited until I was sure nothing was broken, and until my excitement had dissipated. Cursing, cursing still, I slowly sat up, and asked for a damage report.

A little blood on the outside of my right knee, and, oddly, on the inside of the right ankle (had I scraped a chain ring on the way out of the pedals?) There was a rip in my right arm warmer, and of course, some blood coming from the outside of the right elbow. I did not want to look there, as in the past I have taken deep CHUNKS of skin and sub cutaneous tissue out, gouges which took months to heal, and still are white and rigid with scar tissue. I hoped the arm warmer had protected the poor elbow enough to just leave a scrape, but feared for a giant goose egg there. And, for some odd reason, my shorts had a couple of holes on the front side of thigh, with no blood or pain there.

I sighed, slowly got up, grabbed my bike, and hobbled along the path to some shade by a small, short fence. There, I noticed a little stream, and walked over to rinse my hands. A couple of small blood spots there, but nothing actually bleeding. I wanted to get the blood off my calf, so I rinsed that a bit,without going to the spot where the actual tear was – I was worried about this being a pasture area, animal waste draining in here, and so on. All I did was smear the blood into the dust and sunscreen on my leg. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, a very good sign, and my arm warmer was not soaking with blood either, so I hoped for the best, and examined the bike. The chain was off, and stuck outside of the smallest cog. Wrenching that around, I tried to spin the wheel, but the brake jammed it tight.

Damn, I’d just spent 15 minutes this morning teasing the rear brake into the right position, and now I had to go through that all over again, with the dinky little Allen wrench I carry with me. Finally, I wrestled that into a free position (I won’t go into the details here, but I’m using my old wheel on the rear, which is seriously out of true,and can’t be straightened, as it has no adjustable spokes.

I mounted up, and rolled a few hundred meters on the path. I was almost at the junction with the Snowmass Creek Road, where I could rest waiting for the light across Hiway 82 to change, and then re-group in the park-and-ride.

After a quick swig of Perpetuum, and some adjustments to protect my elbow, I moved into the Snowmass and Capital Creek valleys. The ride ended up being just about the same time and effort level as last spring, and after I got home and washed up, I discovered that, really, my clothes got it worse than my skin. My hip was spared, nothing hurt too much, I just had a few spots of raw exposed skin to cover with band-aids. I almost went swimming, but realised that immersion and soaking were probably not going to help me heal, so I bagged that. I rested a bit, and late in the day, went back down to Woody Creek for a 45 minute run. I’m back in business after my little fall.

Since it’s not really worth showing my skin abrasions, here is a picture of the holes in my clothes.

This week’s Kona training report:

Mon – Run intervals first thing in the morning – 2 x 1.5 a little slow (meaning @ TP) due to my race the day before

Tue – Bike commute – finally a rest day!

Wed – Race Rehearsal – covered elsewhere

Thurs – Swim Speed workout in PM

Fri - 30/30s with 40 min brick in AM, Swim endurance in PM

Sat – Long run: still improving here, 17 miles in under 2:18, my fastest pace ever for a run over 10 miles (outside of a race); preceded by weight session

Sun – Swam 3800 in pool instead of lake, as I’m getting worried about lake of rain for two months causing increase algae and bacterial growth.

Tomorrow is another 6 AM run interval session, then work for 24 hours and travel to Colorado for altitude camp on Tuesday – no workout on the 31st.

Our tri team – Endurance Nation – does planned race rehearsals six and 3 weeks before a big event. Basically 6 hours of biking followed by 6 miles of running, all at race effort level/speed. Goal is to do a shakedown cruise, and learn about any equipment, hydration, nutrition, and training issues and needs BEFORE the race. Here is my plan, followed by the report of what actually happened. Tri geek stuff, so stop now if that stuff bores or mystifies you.

While I am a very organized thinker, and actually love outlines and bullet points, I’ve put this in a more narrative format, so you may have to dig through the prose to get to the nuggets;

My RR this week will be on Wednesday, as I have that day off, it’s predicted to be clear, lower 70s, and the weather Thurs-Sun is predicting possible showers.

So, my plan, such as it is:

I’ll wake up when I wake up, and eat what I usually eat, which is what I do on race day anyway – OJ, oatmeal, with raisins & blueberries, and maybe some bacon. 2 hours later, I’ll start out.

I will stage from my house, and do a northerly, more hilly loop of 51.5 miles, and a southerly, flatter, sunnier out and back of 54.6. 106 miles usually gets me 6 hours on these, even though I usually race faster than that. The two loops allow me to simulate special needs, & not have to stop for refueling elsewhere, although there are water spots along the way on the second half. And I can shed any extra clothes I use for the morning chill of low 50′s I’ll be starting in. The route is quite scenic, prettty much following Puget Sound from Port Orchard down to Steiliacoom.

My iBike is working well these days, which is good as I won’t get my new PowerTap for at least another week or two, so I’ll see how good a VI I get. The iBike is really twitchy, so given the hills and its quirks, if I get lower than 1.15, I’ll be doing well. Usual EN pacing guidelines will apply, .65-.7 of my 250 racing FTP will apply for the first half of the first loop. The second half of that loop will be fast, as it’s net downhill with a tail wind. The second half will then be at 0.71-.72, finishing up closer to 0.74 if I have some juice in the last hour.

I’ve got some PowerBar Perform powder to use, and I’ve already found it is too concentrated for me, so I’ll use 2 scoops instead of the recommended three per bottle (140 total cal, only for the first loop). My other on board bottle will be Perpetuem, 3 scoops for each loop (750 total cal). Two bottles for the first loop ought to be enough fluid, with 2 + whatever I need at available water on the second loop. I’ll take a pack of Clif Shot Bloks (200 total cal), and 6 ozs of Hammer Gel in a flask (600 cal). Maybe my disk wheel as it’s still set up from yesterday’s race, but no aero helmet.

My run will be my usual brick route, the one I’m using for my shoe test. My new Mizuno Waves (4.2 oz) arrived, so I’ll use those.  The run will be six miles, probably in 50 minutes or so. The weather should be high 60s to low 70s, but shady at that point.  I’ll attempt a 9 -9:10 pace, for the first 3 miles (out), and then 8:40ish back, from my current VDOT of 49.0. I’ll use half strength Powerbar Perform (110 cal) in a 32 oz squeeze bottle for that, with a Gu and fluid in T2.

My main goal in this RR is to see where I am so I can get more predictive in the second RR, which will be designed to predict actual race day efforts. The second RR will hopefully be in hotter weather, as I’ll be in CO for it. The main result I look for is how did the run feel, and how fast was I able to run the last 2 miles. My biggest issues in races are not pacing, but hydration and nutrition, which is difficult to simulate in the RR as the weather is ALWAYS different on race day – no matter where the race is or where I’ve trained. So weight before and after, and number of times having to stop and pee, and ounces ingested etc will all be key parameters.

For those who don’t remember, I made a big mess of my race in Kona last year, so hydration, humility, and patience are my mantras this year. Hope I can figure out a way to practice them in the RRs.

Follow up Wed. evening:

Day’s weather: Sunny, cloudless, minimal wind. Start temp 53 F, finished @ 80, humidity low 30s (These are the days we never tell anyone about; we prefer you think it’s always cloudy and drizzling here.) So my ride along the Sound, with the Olympic Mountains to the west, Mt Rainier and the Cascades to the east was a visual splendor. Except, I was looking at a power meter for six hours, it might as well have been fogged in.

Bike: 6:05 hours, 100 miles. NP was 179, IF 0.715, TSS 315, VI 1.16 (this is from an iBike), elevation gain 4800 feet (high point 355 feet, low sea level), HR avg 102.

While the NP and IF were right on, the low distance and high VI reflect a constant up and down – and this is the “flattest” ride I can find from my house. I could get totally flat, but would have to do three loops on a bike path and dodge dogs, baby strollers, etc. Also, turns, lights, and stop signs all slow me down. This is the same *time* I had in my last IM, which was 12 miles further and a TSS of 296 with the same elevation total, but far fewer stops and starts and fewer and less steep hills.

The iBike was working perfectly, never had any odd power spikes or losses, so I was able to use it on the hills to keep my speed and effort down, but still had a number of small climbs where I had to go 85-90% to avoid falling over.

Also, my NP for each 25 mile segment was 178. 180, 185, 173, iF of 71, 72, 74, 69. My HRs were 100/103/103/103. So what happened in the last 1+ hour? Two things: the USGA Amateur championship is being held at the golf course on the Sound by which my route goes for 5+ miles. The traffic in and out was a problem. But more important, I was using my new Sidi T2.6 shoes for the first time longer than 1 hour, and I discovered that by 4 hours into the ride, the bottom of my great toes were getting numb, and the tops of my feet were getting squinched by the relatively stiff tongue. So I loosened the straps – like, totally loose, and my floppy feet inside were not pulling as effectively as before. I was really worried my feet would hurt so much, my run would be affected.

I drank 50 oz in the first 3 hours (2 bottles), and 70 in the last 3 hours. Stopped to pee twice in the first half, once at my midway point, and once again in the second loop. My weight did not change from the start of the bike to the end, so I don’t think I was getting dehydrated.

I conclude that the combo of insufficient 4+ hour bike fitness at this point in the training cycle, the loose shoes, and the sketchy traffic for 30 minutes all affected my last 1.25 hours. My only change for the future is to start the ride with slightly looser straps, not cinched down totally tight. And wear the new shoes some more to loosen them up – they are so gleaming white and shiny, I haven’t wanted to scuff them up!

T2 was 7 minutes, maybe 2 minutes too much. I took a GU and my 4th salt pill of the day, along with about 8-10 ounces of very dilute Powerbar Endurance drink.

For the run, I’d planned on 9:10 for the first half and 8:4X for the second. I also had planned to do my shady route, but made a last minute decision to do the sunny route, to see if I could actually handle getting 10 ounces of fluid every mile and see what affect the sun and “heat” would have on my running.

I was wearing new shoes for the run as well – Mizuno Waves, racing flats which weigh 4.2 oz. They have a subtle red hue, and look sharp. And, now I know they are a dream to run in. They had a wide toe box, which I need, and no heel rise. I’ve got to admit these are the best feeling racing flats I ever used – all my worries about my feet after the bike evaporated.

The first mile out of my house is a serious uphill with some 10-12% grades. First mile was 9:55; last mile (back down) was 8:03. Second mile (also mostly uphill, not as steep) was 8:57/8:32 coming back; and the 3rd/4th miles , somewhat down out, up back were 8:42/9:07. First three miles were 9:15, and the return trip was 8:34. So my running pace was not affected at this temp at least.

I felt simply awesome on the run – I had to constantly remember to rein myself in on the last three miles, and feel I could have gone today at least another six at that pace.

I drank 40 oz on the run and lost 1.2 pounds. And I was having a hard time taking in all that fluid.

My next RR will be in 2.5 weeks (same day as IM WI) on a smoother course in Colorado, basically a bike path on an old RR bed with a constant 1-2% grade for 40 miles each way, plus an out and back on a similar road. Same elevation gain as today, but only two climbs instead of 50+, and no traffic issues. I’ll work on pushing the last quarter of the bike a bit more, and see what that does to my run.

Week Five summary:

This week started with 90+ heat and ended with an Olympic race under the threat of rain , water 20 degrees warmer than the air (75/55).

Mon – 3 x 1 early morning on the track @ 6:49/47/39; and a weight session

Tue – 30/30/s on the trainer, followed by a 40′ brick, then 3800 meters in 1:12 in the lake.

Wed – Long run – I keep getting faster in these, 13.1 mi in 1:46, HR avg 129.

Thurs – Bike commute 1.5 hours

Fri – Swim main set only in 2400 meters in 47 minutes before work

Sat – Bike 80 miles in 4:45 with my tri club; skipped the brick as I’m racing on Sunday

Sun – Olympic distance race 27/1:10/42.30 (I think the run was short by about 0.2) Forgot my helmet leaving transition, I was so tired from the ride the day before. IF was 0.904, so I couldn’t have been THAT tired.

Total 16 hours, with 31 miles of running @ avg pace of 8:01 – shocking to me, as even last year I was doing weekly avg speeds of 8:55 or so. Last 4 weeks have  averaged 8:09/19/06/01. We’ll see if all this work works. Maybe I’ll meet my big goal for the year come IM AZ in Nov: beat the BQ time for my AG in an IM marathon.

“Are you going to sign up for Canada for next year after the race?” Don and I were riding side-by-side through JBLM on the Saturday morning club ride. Even though it’s mid-August, we have wind jackets on, against the morning chill. I bet they get a longer summer in the Yukon than we had this year.

“No, Al, I think this is it. This is the end of my Ironman career.”

“You really mean that? Why?”

“It’s just too much time, I just can’t stand walking that much. How much do you run every week, getting ready for your races?” he asked.

“Oh, maybe 3 to 5 hours, depending on the time of year.”

“Well, double or triple that for me.”

We rode on in silence a while.

Don mused again: “You know, I do these little sprints, the Triple Threat, and there are people laughing at me while I’m walking. I don’t mind, but it just makes me think whether I want to do it that bad.”

“Why don’t you just tell them, ‘Hey, I’m 66, and I’m out here and you’re not!’”

“Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t think of that right off, I mean about my age. I just think about how much work it is to train so I can walk that fast – it takes more time than running.” We pedaled a bit more past the exit gate. “Yeah, I just can’t see myself saying, ‘So what if I’m old and don’t have any cartilage on my knee anymore.’”

“Are you going to do any half-ironmans, do you think? Are you going to do the Aqua-Bike at the Grand Columbian?”

“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t miss that one – I love that race.”

“Too bad there aren’t really any relays for Ironman. Except I think maybe Silverman down in Las Vegas has one. But who wants to just run a marathon?”

“Oh, I’m not going to give it up – I love it too much?”

“Love what?”

“Triathlon. The lifestyle.”

“What’s that mean, lifestyle?” I know what it means to me. It means daily planning to fit in 2 hours plus or minus of what some people view as excessive exercise, what we view as “training”. It means eating right away after working out, and paying attention to getting enough of what most people are avoiding in their diets. It means have a room full of workout gear and clothes, owning 8 pairs of running shoes (14 if you count the ones at work and in my Colorado house), 5 pairs of cycling shoes, 4 wetsuits, 7 bikes, and God knows how many technical tee shirts from this race or that. It means obsession about weight, and reveling in the fitness of my body. It means getting a chance to run or ride or race with people I would never dream of seeing in another context. And being outside in all weathers, and all times of the year. That, and so much more is what I knew.

Don said, “Well, it’s the people mostly. I just like being with people to swim and bike, and I wish I could run with them.” But he can’t, not any more, not after all these years, when his knees have finally and completely ground down to bone-on-bone. He’s tried injections, physical therapy, orthotics, pain medicines, different shoes, and it finally came down, in the last year, to race-walking. 26.2 miles, 15 minutes a mile, as fast as he can go. He just can’t pound down on his legs anymore.

But he’s still out there, still showing up every day, still fit as a fox and trying to pick up every women he sees, and he’s racing at Ironman Canada next weekend, with no hope for a podium spot, much less a Kona slot, even in the small group of 25 guys he’ll be racing against at his age.

At the end of today’s shakedown cruise, I tell him the truth: he looks awful good on his bike, and should think about going faster than the 6 hours and 40 minutes he has planned. No reason to hold back, if he doesn’t have to run afterwards. We should all be so lucky.

This was a testing week – FTP, 5K, T Pace. Turned out to be basically a week off from running, with full bike and swim.

Mon – Weights, travel day to Walla Walla

Tue – Run test, first time on a track (usually on treadmill or race). No different than all the others: VDOT 49

Wed – Swim per plan, bike commute home

Thurs – Bike commute to work (only 30 minutes of “work”, then FTP test in PM followed by 5 mi brick

Fri –  T Pace test in 25 meter pool: 1:47.5/100

Sat – 4 hour bike per plan, IF=0.78, TSS=244

Sun – Lake swim 2500 meters/48 minutes; 3 hour Sunday bike, TSS=160, did not do brick Sat or Sun, as temp was in the mid 90s, plan called it optional, only 15 minutes, I’d rather be ready for the next 4 weeks, which should be a lot of work.

Totals – 1.5 hours running, 2.5 hours swimming, 1 hour weight and core work, 10.5 hours biking.