[WARNING! Potentially boring descriptions of triathlon training follows. Proceed at your own risk!]
Today I did cycling intervals – indoors, of course. Sunday would normally be a day for a long run outside. But I just couldn’t see stringing together 100 minutes of continuous dry weather, much less sunshine, in the outdoor swamp which is our March around Puget Sound this year.
Youngest daughter Annie was home this weekend for the start of college freshman year spring break. We had a big family dinner in Seattle Saturday night, and then took her back to the airport Sunday morning for her flight to NYC, where she will spend the next ten days with college friend Margaret. But getting to the airport was a little bit exciting. Plane due to leave at 11 AM, so we want to leave for the airport at about 8:30. 6:30, when I get up, it starts to snow. Big fat “saucer” flakes, wet and melting as they hit the pavement. But they come thicker and faster, while the temperature hovers at 32F, and by the time we make it up the driveway, an inch of slippery slush awaits as on the uphill out of Cedar Hollow. The freeway pavement has also been overpowered during this unpredicted (therefore “freak”?) snowfall, and the meager traffic can’t compete with the crystalline onslaught.
It’s all over by the time we get down to the bridges over the Sound, and it’s clear, but wet, sailing from there on. But the morning’s 2 hour snowfall, which seemed to congregate mostly in our little Gig Harbor neighborhood, left its mark for the rest of the day. I do not like wet feet, and one thing about slush – it concentrates the precipitation’s water content on the surface. I give up on the idea of a long run, and take the training indoors for this week’s intervals on the bike.
On swim teams in my teens, I learned the value of intervals in building power and speed. Shorter, more intense work times, interspersed with rest intervals, train different muscles and energy systems than the longer, slower runs and rides most people associate with Ironman training. I have lots of biking miles under my belt, having ridden across the country, and on many multi-day tours since. Along with family tandem rides with Cheryl or Annie, and bike commuting to work, I had developed a very deep base of biking. I could power my way for hours, but had little to offer on hills, or when sprint time came.
Then, in 2006, I began training for the Hawaii Ironman, following an advanced program developed by coaches who knew how to guide professionals through the process. Once a week, they had me on a bike trainer, going at specific intensities for specific intervals, as well as drilling with one leg at a time, or at very high cadence (pedal revolutions). After my first seven weeks on this regimen (it was a 24 week program leading up to the race in October), I won my first Ironman in June that year. I didn’t bike any faster (it was WAY hot, 92F), but I did slow down less than anyone else on the run, passing five other guys during the marathon. The biking intervals had given me a secret reserve, letting me start the run fresher than ever. My running times have been dropping ever since. And, after two + years of this, my bike times have started to come down as well.
I’m not riding any longer (actually, I do fewer long bike rides than before), and I don’t bike any more days (fewer, actually), but I think those weekly sessions on the trainer have been a key reason I’ve gotten better over the past 2-3 years.
For the uninitiated, a bike trainer works like this. The rear wheel is held in place at the quick release lever (the bolts which hold the wheel to the frame), and the tire is wedged against a spinning cylinder to which (in the more sophisticated versions), variable amounts of force can be applied. At the very high end of the market, that resisting force can be precisely programmed, and changed, set to any level for any length of time.
“Watts” is the measure of power a cyclist applies to spinning the cranks, and about 180 watts is the steady state which I want to hold in race day. To get there, I follow my coaching plan, which each week gives me a set of expected effort levels (as measured by heart rate) across various intervals. I translate those heart rate values to the watts I think it will take to make me work that hard. For example, this week, after warming up for 17 minutes (going steadily from 60 to 150 watts of effort), I did 2 six minute intervals, increasing the effort level steadily from 160/170 to 185/190 watts with 2 minutes easy (90-100 w) in between. Then 2 seven minute intervals (180-190 and vice versa) with one minute easy. Finally, 10 minutes straight changing every minute from 170 to 190 to 180. Then, about 6 minutes of spinning drills, and a 12-15 minute cool down from 150 to 60.
To give you an idea of how intense an effort this requires for me, I am doing this just outside the door to our upstairs deck, while I watch TV. I am under a roof, but outside in 40F wet weather, wearing a no-sleeve thin bike outfit, and getting fairly sweaty. If I were inside with the door closed, I would probably faint from dehydration without a huge fan to keep me cool. Each week, the program changes, building on the previous efforts to slowly create new levels of both steady state ability and hill climbing capability.
Since I am training for triathlon, and not bike racing, I follow this with a “Transition Run”, anywhere from 15 to 60 minutes long. Because the core of what we do is try to run well after biking, we train specifically for that task – running while your thighs are mashed up from cycling hard (but not too hard) for an extended period of time. This whole process usually takes me between 1 hour 30 minutes to 2 hours 15 minutes, just for the exercise part of it.
But it is the non-exercise work surrounding this which really eats into my life. First, I have to write a computer program to direct the trainer. This takes about 5-10 minutes to do, since I have a “shell” program, which translates my English into Basic (or some such ) computer language. I have to do this in my Mac’s PC mode, as the CompuTrainer understands only Windows; more precisely, it is actually a hold over from MS DOS days, and doesn’t even do Windows – just one screen, invariable. (Aside here on the CompuTrainer: this system is really a mediocre mechanical trainer connected to a 15 + year old computer program. But because it was the first and for many years the only system of its kind, all sorts of ancillary tools have grown up in its ecosystem, so we’re kind of stuck with it as a monopoly, just like Windows. Maybe another post, I’ll cover all the things this versatile, but kludgy system can do, and how it should be improved.)
Once the program is written, I can use it over and over, each year at the appropriate time. This last one, for week 11, now completes my set for the 24 week Coeur d’Alene training plan. But, even if I have the program in place, I still have to set the bike in the trainer. Again, the CompuTrainer system is unnecessarily complicated. It takes up to 20 minutes just to get the bike attached, and all the connections to the computer and the resistance wheel arranged. There are a minimum of six different cords which must be in place. A little modern design work, and Bluetooth upgrading could reduce that to just a power cord, but these guys haven’t had any competition until the past year, so why should they improve things? Sigh.
Then, of course, I have to get dressed, with heart rate monitor, special shoes, headband, towels on the bike for sweat catching, etc. And I have to set up the TV, which requires the use of three different remotes, and possibly a DVD, and take the landline phone and the cell phone, in case someone calls while I am riding. Oh, and don’t forget a water bottle, and an energy gel for snacks on the ride. I need to allocate about an hour, just to make sure I have enough time to set this all up.
Then, the ride is over, and I break it down, trying to get out on the road for my T-Run within 10 minutes. And finally, back home, I have to get out of my clothes, into new ones, and then feed myself to replace the 1200 calories and 100 grams of glycogen I have used up, to get ready for the next training session.
So, in fact, those 30-40 minutes when I am actually doing “intervals” are in reality a relief from all of the infrastructure work I have to do to get their small, but real advantage to my racing. You can see why I preferred all those to just getting on my bike and going out for a ride. But I can not argue with success, and I know those brief but intense intervals of effort are gently coaxing my muscles and other systems into higher levels of potential performance, giving me both extra gears and extra reserves, my secret weapons and confidence builders for race day.