High Altitude training camp, aka where work makes me go!

As I sit in the airport waiting to begin another day at the office, I find myself reflecting again on trying to turn a negative in to positives. Certainly not a strong point on my part. However, everyday, one must continue to strive to improve on our weaknesses.

The negative is I'm headed to Mexico for the night. Mexico is a flamboyant country full of colour and great people. However, constantly worrying about food, water and getting caught in the cross fire is not my idea of a good time. Now to turn that in to a positive. Aguascalientes finds itself at a high and dusty altitude of 6,100ft and it just happens to be the day that Netherlands will play Mexico in the knock out rounds of The World Cup. What an atmosphere this will be! Anything has to be an improvement on the couldn't-hit-a-barn-door-from-five-paces performance England has put on this year. You can never argue that Mexican support lacks passion, even if it is a little blind and narrow sighted at times.

In between World Cup games, there might just be some training. Normally, Mexican hotels in the middle of the country aren't well known for an expansive gym. However, all you needs is a descent treadmill and a stationary bike. These pieces of equipment are typically manufactured circa 1980 and have a tint of rust that an old Ford Cortina would be proud of. With a little magic, the belt will begin to turn and a relatively productive training session might be accomplished. 

The real benefit for Boulder will be the sleeping at altitude. The body won't have that much time to adapt and begin producing the high altitude goods. However, it will get a taste of it. Just a sneak preview to the grand premiere later in August. Hopefully, just enough to awaken the red blood cells and remind them of a time when high altitude living was common in my life.

Training outside really isn't such a good idea when in the middle of Mexico. Unless you have a friend that lives in the area, who is willing to take you out on a run or bike, heading out the door as you might in US is just an ill advised endeavour. Although, even the Cartel members might well be caught up in World Cup frenzy during the Mexico game, I am not willing to miss the match and therefore will not be training outside tomorrow.

With a little over 4 weeks left until the big race fatigue is beginning to show up with the added miles on the road. The long ride this week was only 65 miles with the question of how on earth do we produce 112 out of this body the last two years! Yet, no doubt, by the time my final 6 hour ride comes along the training path, 65 miles will seem like a drop in the metaphorical pond.

The runs are getting much hotter. Humidity is very much smacking you in the face as you head out the door. A trait of Mother Nature that I have never seen eye to eye with. Not that it matters an awful lot, as Boulder is not one for swooning with much of any form of humidity. Dry as a bone would be a good way to describe it. As much as it has been hot, that is what I am looking for. Running in the afternoon in order to be sure my body is well aware of the time of day that T2 will be showing it's face come race day. 

The ankle remains discomforted. Not prohibitive, but mostly uncomfortable. However, the ground work is in place to put me in good stead on race day. There's no doubt this will leave a mark on the ankle post race, but not a permanent one. Will it let me run the entire race and not reduce it to a walk is the big question. So far, so good! There will be many a night between now and the big day spent with all manner of massage tools pounding away at the shin and calf area giving as much as possible to the bits and pieces to all work together and join up for the next 4 weeks.

For now all we can do is say....

Good luck to us all!

Lots of flooding out on the Mississippi River routes 

Realisation

Realisation

It never fails to creep up like a comedian trying to jump you from behind. It seems like the training has only just begun, but a quick glance at the Calender and  all of a sudden it shows 6 weeks to go. 

The typical response to this kind of realisation is the sudden flurry of questions that come blazing out of the woodwork. Will I be ready? Have I done enough training? Was this really such a good idea??

You can often hear many of the managers in Football refer to this equivalent part of the year as "The Business End" of the season. It is time to knuckle down. The training steps up a lot. The social hours disappear for a while. You accept that you will see you friends again when this is all over. It is a tough realisation, but you understand an important one.

This week also presented the first real exposure to the heat and subsequent suffering. In Tulsa, I was confronted with the brutality of heat and humidity, combined with the need to complete a heart rate test. It was unpleasant. The test began with far too hard of a pace. I "blew up" completely with around 25 minutes of the 30 minute test complete. Pulling over to find some shade and any water I could grapple at. Upon inspection of my TomTom gps watch it was clear why. Staring back at me were an initial two miles far above any pace I would normally hold. Yes, these test are designed to be a maximum all out experience. However, this was far beyond that yard stick. On the stumble back to the hotel and the subsequent long cold shower (not that kind!) once again I confirmed to myself that I did not enjoy hot and humid. Good news! Denver isn't humid in August. Shame about the heat element.

Bryan and I at The Depot

After some very unwelcome extended work periods, a missed long run and seeing England relegated to their second World Cup defeat and subsequent exit, I was primed for an up tempo ride. This was duly completed over 4 ish hours during the hottest day of the year (and of course the most humid). On this occasion I found myself better prepared and although I sweat like a pig on a spit roast, I came out relatively unscathed and with only a slight sunburn. The lake's beaches were packed and the trails full of traffic.  This made for less than a fluid ride, but once joined by my friend Bryan, the ride's enjoyability level increased. 

Forever constrained by time, as most working amateur ironman athletes are, too much resting at my favourite spot, The Depot, was limited and I raced back to town to finish all the chores that awaited me. This is when it became apparent, as I tinkered with my training plan, that all of a sudden Ironman Boulder was just around the corner and sneaking up the inside rail quickly. The forthcoming week will be chock full of training and I'm sure the next post on this blog will be a tired one. 

On a parting note, I wonder to myself, if ever I found myself on a larger aircraft whether anyone would notice if I tried to sneak on my bike and trainer and go for a high altitude spin??? 

Good luck to us all!!

 

Time to relax

The family vacation came at just the right time. Even though the ankle held up during the race, as the following days sped by, it began to ache, creeping around in the background subtle as you like. 

However, a full 5 days of rest was ahead of me on a lake in northern Minnesota, totally isolated from the world and more importantly my bike and running shoes (I did manage to sneak up my wetsuit). Although there was still some work to be done on the boat, it was relaxation abound in the most brilliant environment. Lush wooded areas with otters, beavers and plenty of fish (fish, the majority of which chose not to take our bait, although some did)

It was a very welcome break. No workouts to concern myself with. A complete lack of time management. Just the release from organized life that was needed and a lot of napping on a fishing boats. A lifestyle that could easily become addicting. 

I did sneak in a swim, albeit a short one. Despite my open water fears abounding, the wetsuit was thrown on and the icy waters were disturbed by the neoprene clad body. All in the interests of child amusement, as four young kids thought it a great idea to hang on as I swam the dark waters. Could be a great new craze in strength training!

Sadly all vacations must end and the vacation blues came on strong when we arrived back in to The Cities. Immediately back running and among the everyday life stresses. Time to start wasting away those candy induced calories and back to the time management that can be so exhausting. 

A trip to NYC quickly followed with a dungeon swim, two floors below ground at Bally Fitness. A gloomy, yet unique swim site, but little wonder why Bally's has found bankruptcy. A dirty dungeon it was. The week was back in full flow, with a run test tomorrow and a four hour bike later in the week. Where's that lake again???

Good luck to us all!

Liberty Half Iron Race Report

Twas the night before Liberty and the sky was lit up with lightening bolts and the ground sodden with rain. I know what you are thinking, perfect conditions for a race, right?! Who doesn't love swimming in the middle of the lake and having the pretty view of lightening overhead!!?

Well, despite my sarcasm, race morning arrived and we began the day with a somewhat dry early morning drive  along highway 12 to Delano, MN. A small town just 30 miles NW of Minneapolis and on to Lake Rebbecca. Locals say that our city lakes are dirty. Well, when you swim in these "dirty" city lakes I can see 3 feet. In Lake Rebbecca the cloudy visibility was about 1/2 a foot! The good news about this particular fact is there is no psychological battle with the weeds to be had, because you can't see them!

Anyway, back to the point. After setting up transition, surrounded on all sides my unintended lakes of water from the flooding in the area and a quick check of the beach and route back, we were unceremoniously told to run for the cars. At which point we through everything back in to the bags and high tailed it back to the warmth of the borrowed Scion (thanks Bryan!).

It couldn't have been a poorer choice for Mother Nature to show up on this one day of the week. 80 degrees all week, yet today She decided to plump down 60 degrees for a high and sodden us the entire day! Eventually, her anger subsided enough to allow us out of the cars, back to the quagmire of mud known as "transition" and made ready for the one hour delayed start. Now, Napoleon had generously offered to come and support me in this race, despite not training one little bit. I know...he's French. Make sense! However, his valiant offer was much appreciated and despite the fact that we all know he secretly misses triathlon dearly, the hour delay cost him the run. He had a deadline to finish and sadly could not. So, as they do in triathlon, they unceremoniously and lacking any emotion, gave him a DNF. To be honest, there were multiple times this eventual outcome crossed my mind.

The Swim: The water was a very pleasant 71F. Very welcome warmup compared to the 55F OAT. Once in, the swim was fantastic. Well designed and simple course, with little traffic and lots of space to get in to a rhythm. Despite being 3 minutes slower than the previous year, the effort was quite relaxed. A good sign for me as I know a greater effort could have been put in. The benefit realised once T1 is left behind and the bike leg begins. Much fresher and relaxed than in previous years. That said, I left the water with a 34 min swim, which equates to 1min 39sec per 100 yard. Very relaxed.

Now for the miserable part. The Bike! It was absolutely lashing it down again (no lightening this time) and the early miles set the tone for the next 3 plus hours. Roads were soaked and covered in debris, as became abundantly clear on mile 3 where I looked down to find the front tire flat. Queue greased filled tire change (much worse when wet. You end up looking like you just changed the oil on a car). However, a relatively easy and fluid change it was and we were back under way in less than a few minutes. Disappointing in some respects, as I was looking for an excuse to stop - smiley face, hashtag, hashtag.

Had this been a sunny day, this would have been a lovely ride. Lots of smooth shoulders and roads, with rolling countryside. It was a very pleasing ride with a solid wind from the NW to compliment and distinctly hinder your speed depending on the direction. Naturally, this was a hindrance headed back to T2, at your lowest point, knackered and cold, with no sign of your feet feeling anything at all. That's triathlon and in a sick way, why we love it. Despite the early flat, the ever soggy T2 was reached in 3hrs 20mins. A 20 minute improvement over Kansas last year. Pretty happy and despite the frozen feet, the body felt in good shape.

Leaving T2 after my mud treatment (people pay lots of money to have this put all over them to make their skin lovely. A good roll around T2 would have the same outcome) I was shot in to the State Park of Lake Rebecca and a very pleasant trail run. A simple out and back, albeit a very hilly one. Note to self, check out run elevations before next race. The pace was very relaxed and as usual the mood becomes very upbeat when I am off my trusty Blue stead and running under my own power. Relief of no longer pedaling combined with the realization that the end is insight.

The pace was slow to begin with. My foot and ankle were a concern going in, although physical therapy in the week had helped. The strategy was 10 minutes running followed by 1 minute walking. This seem to work very well indeed. The ankle only complaining when the body began to fatigue and my form started to fail on the downhill portions. The left knee was the unexpected party crasher, causing some pain in the latter stages. In fact, the whole right leg felt like it had been doing all the major lifting for the last 5 hours. The left side felt good. Possible signs again of my "imbalance" and hopefully will be highlighted in a Full Functional Assessment in the coming weeks.

As has been the case the last few half iron distance races, the pace was upped considerably in the last 3 miles. It's as if the the body is a horse caught in the starting gate and demands "why have you been holding me back???" and off it goes. Upping the pace by a min/mile. Smash fest! If I could only figure out how to trust my body in to running an improved and even pace throughout the run portion. However, it does feel good to catch all the runners who passed you, in the final miles.

Lots of high fives and "good jobs" later and the modest, local finish line was crossed and a good couple of hot dogs later and I was in the car headed home. The local races are always the best, for me. The relaxed feel. The casualness of it all. The personal approach to the race. It's great. Challenge get close to that with their races. WTC do put on a heck of a race, but a very impersonal one. However, they do draw the crowds and that is a big plus. Running through the park yesterday, the only cheering section were the other runners coming the other way.

All in all, in hindsight, a challenging, yet satisfying race was had. A race I will definitely enter again. Now for some much needed rest!

Good luck to us all!

The Good, the bad and the ugly...

The always say you should start with the good first. In true against-the-grain fashion, I will do the opposite. What a shit week!

The are those weeks during training for a long distance endurance race that are a joy. You jump out of bed to the singing of early morning bird song, think the world is just swell and bolt out of the door. This was not one of those weeks. It was truly ironic. Perhaps some of the most bike worthy days of the year. Yet, the idea of heading out the door and going for a ride longer than 1 hour was not at the highest on my list. Although I will gladly admit that, once out there, it was a joy and I was glad I had struggled out the door.

No matter what though, I would wake up wishing to hear a monumental boom from Mother Nature indicating that today I just might be able to get away with a slow morning and a large cup of coffee. This training robs you of many things and sacrifices are made, both by yourself and others. It is these small little things that you elect to give up - breakfast at a normal hour with your wife. Reading the paper and drinking a seriously over sized coffee that Starbucks doesn't have a name for yet - the things that one weeks like these, you miss dearly.

However, during these weeks, you tend to find yourself pleasantly surprised. The mood that clouds your outlook. Then the warm sun occasionally breaks through and reminds you that life really isn't all that bad. That sun broke through during the first open swim of the season. It was truly wonderful. It is easily forgotten, from one year to the next, what you have experienced the year before. The first open swim is one of them. Yes, I hate the open water. It is not my favourite place to be. However, when you get in that water, when the visibility is up, the fish are gloriously unaware of any human interference and the water is just about warm enough, you wade out into the shallow waters of the lake and dive in. Yes, there are many times I can be heard whimpering between breaths as I swim out in to the lake. It is not lost on me, however, how this particular swim is a special one.

Then the clouds began to dominate again, the sun went in and another lonely 3 plus hour ride presented itself.  This discipline has been hard this year. Absent are the training partners of yesteryear. The rides have been increasingly rides of one. This is, in fact, a good thing for Ironman distance training as it is a lonely place out there and anyone who partakes in this tomfoolery needs to be ready for that. That said, it is nice to get out on the sunny days with a few friends to distract you away from the monotony.

The long run of the week epitomised monotony itself. 11 miles run on a treadmill can be a brutal experience. This one was no different. However, the positives must be gained and recognised. The mental training on an experience like this are invaluable. Chrissy Wellington, to whom I am certainly not comparing my meagre self, wrote in her book that her coach, Brett Sutton, would often make her run an entire marathon on a treadmill in a small dungeon. This was by no means a dungeon, in fact a wide open street mall gym, but the psychological effects were the same. Glad the choice was made to do it. And why on earth did I decide to undertake such lunacy? The city was Jackson, Mississippi. A remote area. I think that's all I need to say on that! 

The week is concluded and behind us. A positive  week lies ahead. More open water swimming this evening with the fishes (and the savage weeds). What also will present itself is the first race of the season, followed by a long relaxing week on a houseboat in Northern Minnesota! The ankle will be tested and the body stretched.

Good luck to us all!