We Don't Get to Pick Our Bad Days

Sunday will be seven weeks since I finished my third Ironman--Ironman Coeur d'Alene. It will be seven weeks since I had the worst swim I've ever had in an Ironman. Seven weeks since I spent 20+ miles unable to shift into the big chainring. Seven weeks since 96 miles into the race my crank came off my bike while going 22 mph, which then caused me to break my aerobars and somehow avoid having the worst crash of my life. Seven weeks since I sat at the side of the road waiting on a mechanic to come make my bike ridable again. Seven weeks since I secretly hoped it couldn't be fixed so that I would have an excuse to quit. Seven weeks since the first time I've taken longer than 4 hours to run 26.2 miles (only one minute longer, but still, longer). Seven weeks since I decided that, for me, the reward of just finishing is not worth the sacrifice it takes to get there.

See, I've "just finished" three Ironmans, three years in a row. I'm tired of "just finishing." I keep telling myself (mainly because Lindsay keeps telling me) that it was only one bad day. And we don't get to pick our bad days. But when our bad day happens to fall on the most important racing day of the past three years, that does something to your confidence. Before I even finished the bike leg, I started wondering what all of this is worth. In order to race (and I mean, RACE, not finish) an Ironman you have to make incredible sacrifices to your other goals. I'm not talking about the sacrifices of everyday life that it takes just to compete in an Ironman. I'm talking about all of my athletic goals.

For example, I've never run the Boston Marathon. I've never done as much cycling road racing as I'd like to do. I've never made a 70.3 race an A-race. In fact, in the past three years, no race other than an Ironman has been an A-race. 70.3s are my favorite distance. But I've never focused on doing one right. Ironman makes you slower at everything. You can still be relatively fast. But you will never be as fast as you could be as long as your focus is on the Ironman distance. So for me, the rest of this year, and at least the first half of next year, is focused on getting faster.

The rest of this year is totally dedicated to the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in November. I have no goals of winning or qualifying for anything. I just want to see how fast I can go. Lindsay and I will figure out a more specific time goal over the next couple of months. But for now, we're just focusing on making me fast.

Ironically enough, I leave for Boulder today for the 5430 Long Course Race, which was my "bad day" last year. Ryan is racing again, so I'm eager to see his progression. And my goal is to just have fun and gain back my confidence. No time goals, and no goals that can be affected by anything that is out of my control. My goal is simply to PASS. If I have fun and enjoy the day, then I PASS. If I get frustrated, angry, pouty, upset, etc., then I FAIL. Either way, it will be a good training day and a good time with a very good friend. Once I get back to Dallas, it's time to get busy getting fast.

I may still do an Ironman next year. But if so, I'm going back to Arizona in November. No Spring Ironman next year. That will give me lots of time to focus on speed before we start the long haul back to Arizona. And it will allow me to concentrate on that other race that I've been putting off for way too long . . . the Boston Marathon. Anybody want to meet up in Boston?

Weekend Update - Bad Timing on Out-And-Backs

Well, I think it's safe to say that my self-induced calf injury is a thing of the past. I only have a handful of weeks (5 to be exact) until the Austin Marathon, so I had no choice but to get a quality long run in this weekend. Saturday was my day. It was cold and the wind was blowing over 20 mph, but I bundled up and headed out the door, hoping for the best.

I had planned to do a 2 hour run, so I was going out an hour and then turning around. That works well if you run EXACTLY the same speed on the way out as you do on the way in. I, unfortunately, NEVER do that. So I'm forced with either running past my house at the end of the run, or running longer on the way out and risking making a the run longer than it was supposed to be. At the 53 minute mark, I had a choice to make. Turn left, down a familiar path, and run out of road in less than two minutes, meaning I would likely get home early. Or turn right, down a road I had never been down before and risk upsetting the Drama Queen that is my brain since I wouldn't know EXACTLY where to turn around (YES, I am OCD!). There is not much I hate more than getting home early during a workout. It's worse on the bike because I basically have to soft pedal around the neighborhood just to get the last two minutes in so that my power file says 4:00 instead of 3:58 (again, OCD). But it's just as bad on a run. To me, my driveway is like a finish line. And I don't like to run past it!

So I took the road less traveled and turned to the right. DQ immediately freaked out ("What are we doing!!?? This isn't the right way!!). But, I somehow survived, and by the time the hour was up, I could see a big turn in the road. I was feeling REALLY good at that point, so I decided to keep going and turn around at the big turn. I turned around in 1:02, and then realized why I had felt so good. I had been running slightly downhill for the past nine minutes. Oh yeah, and remember that 20+ mph wind? Well, that was helping me run down that hill. All of a sudden, I was running much slower, and DQ was trying to convince me to just walk. So much for the road less traveled!

As it turned out, the wind was in my face for most of the trip home. I ran just under 17 miles, and I finished in 2:07. I.e., 7 minutes longer than I planned on running. That's practically a mile further. And it was SO WORTH IT!! Because I didn't have to run anymore once I got home. Unless you are a runner (and possibly OCD), don't even try to understand this way of thinking.

Sunday - Another two hour workout, but this time, 90 minutes of it was on the bike with the last thirty minutes being a run. Sunday was not as cold and the wind was practically gone, so the bike ride was uneventful. Then I had a 30 minute run. The first hard transition run of the season is always fun. And by fun, I mean ridiculously difficult. I felt like I was carrying a 50 pound pack on my back. I turned around after two miles (14:30) because I figured I would slow down on the way home. Most of the last mile back to the house is uphill, and my legs were pretty much toast at that point. But I wasn't about to give up with less than a mile left to finish the weekend! So I pushed on. I topped the hill, and knew I was only two minutes from home.

Two more minutes, and my weekend is over! Two more minutes, and I can EAT. Two more minutes, and I can take a hot shower!! I rounded the corner and headed towards my driveway finish line. I joyously glanced at my watch and realized . . . I made it home a minute too early.

HOLY CRAP! A BEAR!!!!

Just got back from beautiful Colorado. What an AWESOME weekend of training! Without a doubt, the highlight of the trip was about 10 minutes up Left Hand Canyon when I heard Ryan yell "HOLY CRAP! A BEAR!!!" It was without a doubt the coolest thing I have ever seen on a ride. We were just climbing along and all of sudden he (or she, I didn't stop to check!) went running across the road about 20 yards in front of us. We both slammed on our brakes and watched as an American Black Bear walked along the river to our right, pausing to check us out about every 5 steps. What an awesome creature! It really is a shame that we as a human race don't care more about preserving this wonderful planet that God has provided for us . . . .

Anyway, I went to Colorado this weekend for a camp with CTS and to do some training with my very good friend Ryan. After a day with my coach, Lindsay, at CTS doing Lactate Threshold, VO2 Max, a bike fit, swim analysis, and a running analysis, I was pretty worn out. By the way, getting your finger pricked every three minutes, working as hard as you can, on a bike that goes nowhere, with a tube in your mouth, a clamp on your nose, and people yelling at you is not most fun workout I've ever done! Regardless, the camp was great. They really know how to do it right at CTS! Thanks, Lindsay!

Ryan is doing his first half-ironman (actually, it's his first triathlon -- that's how he rolls -- Go big or go home!) this August at the 5430 Long Course in Boulder (you could have picked an easier race, Ryno!). We ran on Saturday in Boulder and found an awesome route that we will definitely be running again as soon as I can get back up there! We were only running for an hour and twenty minutes, so we actually had to turn around long before we were ready. We were just gradually climbing on a nice trail with a mountain to our right and a river to our left. It was beautiful, and honestly one of the most fun runs I have ever done.

Sunday, we rode the 5430 bike course just to check it out. It seemed like it could be fast, but the first several miles were gradually uphill, almost a false flat, which could make you feel slow coming out of T1. We'll have to be patient on race day. After that, we climbed up Left Hand Canyon to Ward, had a delicious cookie, rode back down the mountain, and then up Stage Hill. Stage Hill was much shorter and felt like a small rolling hill after having climbed the hour twenty minutes that it took us to get up Left Hand Canyon. I was having some mechanical trouble so we headed back to the Res and called it a day. It was a great day, and I was not happy to be heading back to the airport to return to Dallas! Thanks for the EPIC weekend, Ryno!!

Note to self, next time you're doing that much climbing, bring something besides a P3C with an 11-23 cassette!

Tough day at the races

There are certain things you just can't train for without actually getting out there and racing. Even then, sometimes the stars have to align to get the experience you are after. One of the things I try to rehearse in my head and hope to practice in B and C-priority races is how to handle tough competition when someone challenges me late in a race. I try to imagine what it will feel like to be 9 hours into an Ironman, and have someone in my age group challenge me for what might be that last coveted Kona spot. This past weekend, I finally got a chance to experience how I might react to such a situation. Although I learned a lot, I hope I respond to the competition better next time.

I did the Playtri Festival half-ironman this past weekend in Irving, Texas, which is a suburb of Dallas. If you're not familiar with the area, all you need to know is that it is FLAT and WINDY. The bike course is two loops. The first 11 miles of each loop were directly into the wind, and I was not patient at all. I hammered through the wind. By the time I got through it the second time around, I had pretty much trashed my legs. As usual when that happens in a long race, I was cramping on the run. Oh well, get to the finish and recover for next time. But then, with less than two miles to go, a guy from my age group passed me. Here was my chance to see what I'm made of! What did I do? I kept trucking along just trying to finish. I made no attempt to stay with him. I finished right at 5 hours, and he ended up beating me (and taking the last spot on the podium) by about a minute. He told me afterwards that he sped up to go by me because he was worried that I was going to challenge him. In other words, he out smarted me.

This is a trick that I have used countless times, but I don't remember it ever working on me. I just assumed he was too fast, so I didn't even try to keep up. Remember that the next time you're racing. That person that just past you is just as tired as you are, and maybe they are simply trying to intimidate you. Stay with them for a minute, and I bet they slow down. If not, well, there's no other way to practice that than to challenge them. How tough are you?