In typical thick accent, Russian professional triathlete Andrey Lyatskiy says to me, "You go wiz me? Not hard." As he says my facial expression of disbelief, he says, "not fast, it vill be eazy". I shake my head, and think to myself, "well, what do I have to lose? Let's go!"
Approximately 10 miles later, after holding somewhere between half-ironman and olympic distance race pace from the start, and much higher when climbing up a hill, I'm done. Dropped. Right in the middle of what has to be the worst winds Florida sees outside of hurricane season. With a climb looming ahead, I think to myself, "What did I get myself into?".
Reduced all the way to my smallest gear, and still struggling, I do eventually make it to the top. And after a few more miles of pedaling mindlessly, Andrey comes flying by, doubling back, signaling to turn around and follow. I do.
And I suffer. For another short eternity... before I realize we've only gone a few more miles. He shows me the way back and I take it gladly. As he leaves, he mentions "that waz warmup, time to go hard now". And THAT was a hard run day for him...
Now I could blame my lack of ability to keep up with all sorts of things, such as the hard ride I did with another pro, Zach Rubles, the previous day, where I spent most of the ride doing all I could to hold his wheel and then still getting dropped whenever he wanted to turn it up just a bit more. But the fact of the matter is, these guys are simply on another level of bike power that I'm just not at. Yet.
So you can imagine my bewilderment when today, Andrey asks me again, "You go wiz me...? Not hard." But instead of cowering in a corner and whimpering, "no more, no more..." I grabbed my bike immediately and said, "Let's do it", surprising even myself.
Luckily today was a long, "eazy" ride for him. He was going 4.5 hours. Surely, I could at least keep up for half of that, right? I was ready this time. Yesterday was an easy spin. My legs were ready to go. Well, just like last time, the pace started hot, and never relented. After a very, very long time of extreme suffering, I was certain I'd made it at least an hour and a half, maybe closer to two. I asked. We'd almost gone one hour. 55 minutes in fact.
Another 20 minutes, and I thought I was toast. Luckily the area we were riding was mostly flat. If there had been any number of big hills like the previous day, I would have been dropped long ago. But with lots of wind to slow him up, and me right on his wheel, I was hanging in there. If only by a thread.
At one point during this ride, I thought I might make it the whole way. And that's about the time we hit a nice, big hill. Immediately I was popped. I'd been at a bit faster than half-Ironman race pace for 2 hours and 20 minutes now. It was time to call it a day. So that I could survive to bike another day.
Overall, I was very pleased. It hurt like crazy to bike that hard for that long without the adrenaline of a race. In fact, I now have a new understanding of the phrase "not hard".
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Swimming Big
To make the most out of not biking or running for several days, I bumped my swim mileage through the roof. And it worked. I've slowly but steadily been getting stronger and faster in the pool, as well as more comfortable spending so much time in it.
After a few days, the knee had healed up enough to start biking again. Just in time, too, as I left Gainesville to come down to Clermont for a week homestay with some other professional athletes. When everyone else around you runs, bikes, and swims every single day, it's really hard to do nothing, much less just swim! So, at the very least, I have been able to swim, bike, swim the last several days in an attempt to keep myself almost as busy as them!
Along with rehabbing the knee with some weight training to hopefully correct any muscular imbalances that might have caused the problem in the first place, I've come to really enjoy this simple lifestyle of doing almost nothing but training and eating all day long. It's a whole different and much more enjoyable experience when you are not the only one doing it. And around here, you are definitely not the only one...
So far, while swimming at the National Training Center (NTC), the majority of people I've spoken to or swam next to have seemingly turned out to be professional triathletes of some sort or another. Some, have caused me to a be a bit starstruck, like the other day when I met Nina Kraft and she invited me on a group ride later in the week. Others, have even offered much needed stroke advice while swimming next to me.
I've gone on bike rides with pros Zach Rubles and fellow roommate Andrey Lyatskiy from Russia. Both could seemingly drop me at will (and did, several times...). But in my efforts to keep up, I've gotten some quality bike sessions in, particularly during the middle of the week where I would normally be forced to ride alone due to winter hours.
It's been like living a dream. To simply wake up and train. All day. Every day. To be surrounded by so many other driven, talented, hard working athletes. This, is a good place to be!
After a few days, the knee had healed up enough to start biking again. Just in time, too, as I left Gainesville to come down to Clermont for a week homestay with some other professional athletes. When everyone else around you runs, bikes, and swims every single day, it's really hard to do nothing, much less just swim! So, at the very least, I have been able to swim, bike, swim the last several days in an attempt to keep myself almost as busy as them!
Along with rehabbing the knee with some weight training to hopefully correct any muscular imbalances that might have caused the problem in the first place, I've come to really enjoy this simple lifestyle of doing almost nothing but training and eating all day long. It's a whole different and much more enjoyable experience when you are not the only one doing it. And around here, you are definitely not the only one...
So far, while swimming at the National Training Center (NTC), the majority of people I've spoken to or swam next to have seemingly turned out to be professional triathletes of some sort or another. Some, have caused me to a be a bit starstruck, like the other day when I met Nina Kraft and she invited me on a group ride later in the week. Others, have even offered much needed stroke advice while swimming next to me.
I've gone on bike rides with pros Zach Rubles and fellow roommate Andrey Lyatskiy from Russia. Both could seemingly drop me at will (and did, several times...). But in my efforts to keep up, I've gotten some quality bike sessions in, particularly during the middle of the week where I would normally be forced to ride alone due to winter hours.
It's been like living a dream. To simply wake up and train. All day. Every day. To be surrounded by so many other driven, talented, hard working athletes. This, is a good place to be!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Injured Again
Well, not really again. Same injury. But now it's decided it does not like cycling, if forced to do it all day, every day. The left knee, which I have self-diagnosed with some form of Patellofemoral Pain Syndrome (more commonly known as Runner's Knee), had started to hurt again after the recent big bike rides. But not during.
Until yesterday. Indicating it was getting worse. Though the pain is laughably small and is easily distracted by such things as higher intensity, it is there, and it is telling me to back off, before I create a really serious problem.
Luckily though, I have found an inexpensive salt water pool here. And the weather is good. So for the next couple of days I can focus my energy on swimming (remember to kick from the hip, and not the knee...) and seeing how the knee heals. It'll be tough not doing too much and reinjuring an old, long-term, here to stay, shoulder problem. But with caution, I should be able to continue my big training, if not quite as big as I'd hoped.
This poses another problem, however. In that of what to do with all the time I was going to spend biking. Strength work to help rehab the knee will take up some of that time, as will the swimming. But that still leaves the vast majority of the day. Well, hopefully the wonderful employees of a particular Starbucks in town won't mind me moving in for awhile...
Until yesterday. Indicating it was getting worse. Though the pain is laughably small and is easily distracted by such things as higher intensity, it is there, and it is telling me to back off, before I create a really serious problem.
Luckily though, I have found an inexpensive salt water pool here. And the weather is good. So for the next couple of days I can focus my energy on swimming (remember to kick from the hip, and not the knee...) and seeing how the knee heals. It'll be tough not doing too much and reinjuring an old, long-term, here to stay, shoulder problem. But with caution, I should be able to continue my big training, if not quite as big as I'd hoped.
This poses another problem, however. In that of what to do with all the time I was going to spend biking. Strength work to help rehab the knee will take up some of that time, as will the swimming. But that still leaves the vast majority of the day. Well, hopefully the wonderful employees of a particular Starbucks in town won't mind me moving in for awhile...
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Florida Training Camp: Part Deux
Arriving in Florida a couple of nights ago was like leaving the frozen foods section of the grocery store. It was below 40 in Tennessee with the sun shining bright when I left and above 50 and relatively warm and comfortable as I stepped out into a dark, late Florida night. As I awoke to a comfortable 60 degree morning I was again, in shock of how nice some people have it in what I like to call the winter wonderlands of the world. It was time to bike. A lot.
With the temperature moving past 70 it was going to be a good day. And that it was as I headed north from Gainesville up through the Lake Butler Wildlife Conservation Area and back. All in all a good 80 mile day at a decent 18mph average. Though from mile 20 on it wasn't easy. Oddly, the previously hurt knee, responsible for my current lack of running, decided to bother and worry me throughout. Miles 40-60 were the worst. But then, with the threat of rain coming, and a tailwind showing up, I made good time from there in. However, after finishing, I knew I'd gone too fast. I was worn down. Very worn down.
The day started off as if I hadn't even ridden the day before. I felt great. Though the previous night was a bit rough, with the temperature being too hot to sleep until almost midnight, and desperately needing a shower, my legs didn't seem to be phased from the previous day like they had felt immediately after.
And then I flatted. The attempted patch, as usual, didn't work. Luckily, I was carrying a spare tube and had enough Co2 to get back to my car and air it up the rest of the way. From there, things got a little better for awhile. Until I realized I still had 50 miles to go. And the wind was picking up. Seemingly changing directions often. But at least the scenery got better once I headed east through the Paynes Prairie State Preserve and jumped on the Hawthorne rail trail. Here I found some others to ride with which provided a much needed mental boost for the next 20 miles.
After that though, it was 20 more miles to go but my body was already done. Though the temperature was in the 60's I soon started to get chills. My legs actually felt fine, but my body was really not feeling right. From there on it was a struggle the whole (slow) way back, and the average for the day dropped to a low 16mph. With the wind, the flat and whatever happened at the end though, I'll take it.
I finished just in time. In time to grab some food and make it over to check out the neighborhood pool I had finally found. Amazingly, it was a gem. The only one open in the winter. I can see why. I was the only one there. It was glorious. The first shower after two 80 mile days on the bike... is something so incredible as to be indescribable to anyone who has never experienced something similar. The pool not only had lap lanes but it was salt water as well. All for less than $2. My prayers had been answered.
Maybe it was the large quantity of food. Maybe it was one of the electrolytes or minerals found in the recovery shake I had after my ride. Or maybe it was simply motivation returning after one amazing shower. I was starting to worry since these initial two rides had already seemingly taken so much of a toll, physically and mentally. But once in the pool, I never even felt them.
I'm now feeling fresh and ready for the next day. The next workout. And the one after that. For the next three weeks. The hardest three week period. I will have yet to experience. The goal: 1500 miles. I will get there. If I have to fly to do it.
Literally. I will get on a plane...
With the temperature moving past 70 it was going to be a good day. And that it was as I headed north from Gainesville up through the Lake Butler Wildlife Conservation Area and back. All in all a good 80 mile day at a decent 18mph average. Though from mile 20 on it wasn't easy. Oddly, the previously hurt knee, responsible for my current lack of running, decided to bother and worry me throughout. Miles 40-60 were the worst. But then, with the threat of rain coming, and a tailwind showing up, I made good time from there in. However, after finishing, I knew I'd gone too fast. I was worn down. Very worn down.
The day started off as if I hadn't even ridden the day before. I felt great. Though the previous night was a bit rough, with the temperature being too hot to sleep until almost midnight, and desperately needing a shower, my legs didn't seem to be phased from the previous day like they had felt immediately after.
And then I flatted. The attempted patch, as usual, didn't work. Luckily, I was carrying a spare tube and had enough Co2 to get back to my car and air it up the rest of the way. From there, things got a little better for awhile. Until I realized I still had 50 miles to go. And the wind was picking up. Seemingly changing directions often. But at least the scenery got better once I headed east through the Paynes Prairie State Preserve and jumped on the Hawthorne rail trail. Here I found some others to ride with which provided a much needed mental boost for the next 20 miles.
After that though, it was 20 more miles to go but my body was already done. Though the temperature was in the 60's I soon started to get chills. My legs actually felt fine, but my body was really not feeling right. From there on it was a struggle the whole (slow) way back, and the average for the day dropped to a low 16mph. With the wind, the flat and whatever happened at the end though, I'll take it.
I finished just in time. In time to grab some food and make it over to check out the neighborhood pool I had finally found. Amazingly, it was a gem. The only one open in the winter. I can see why. I was the only one there. It was glorious. The first shower after two 80 mile days on the bike... is something so incredible as to be indescribable to anyone who has never experienced something similar. The pool not only had lap lanes but it was salt water as well. All for less than $2. My prayers had been answered.
Maybe it was the large quantity of food. Maybe it was one of the electrolytes or minerals found in the recovery shake I had after my ride. Or maybe it was simply motivation returning after one amazing shower. I was starting to worry since these initial two rides had already seemingly taken so much of a toll, physically and mentally. But once in the pool, I never even felt them.
I'm now feeling fresh and ready for the next day. The next workout. And the one after that. For the next three weeks. The hardest three week period. I will have yet to experience. The goal: 1500 miles. I will get there. If I have to fly to do it.
Literally. I will get on a plane...
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Swimming Breakthrough
After swimming over 15k yards last week, I thought for sure I would finally start to get faster in the pool. For the last couple of years, I have steadily made solid gains biking and running, but for swimming, I only got slower and not slower. No matter how more I swam, or how much harder I swam, I just couldn't actually swim faster than I did when I first started triathlon. I did, of course, gain endurance in the pool. But at no time did I ever gain speed. My fastest 400m swim to date is still the second triathlon I ever competed in. At the time, I was swimming more as a cool down to my weight lifting routine. Last winter, when I put in huge time in the pool, and was hitting bigger and faster workouts, I was still slower over 400m in a race. Though all that swimming did take my running to a new level. And such was the case. The more I seemed to swim, the faster I ran, but not swam. Of course, my longer swims did get faster, but that was more from overall increased endurance and improved ability to swim in open water, and not because I actually gained any swimming speed. Through all of this, I knew there had to be something, some part of my stroke, that was hindering me. Every time I swam with others that were at my speed, or even just faster, it seemed like their legs were sinking in the water and their overall posture terrible in comparison. Certainly, there was some major part of my swim stroke that I just wasn't getting. Well I was right. So very right.
Throughout the last couple of years, as I seemingly fixed some part of my stroke, and correspondingly felt faster in the water, I was convinced that I had finally done it. But each time, the fix was correspondingly quite small, and often, quite inconsequential. From all the time spent working on the "connection" between the lower body and upper body in the stroke, to just recently when I finally learned how to perform a full 6 beat kick with no deadspots (turns out I've always had a great 4 beat kick, but aside from the opening sprint at the beginning of a race, I need to be focusing on a 2 beat kick). Each time, from keeping my head more still in the water and letting it rotate with my body to correcting my hand entry to entering right near my head instead of throwing it out as far as I can, the actual differences in speed were quite minimal. Even one of the big ones, where I flattened my hand out and kept my fingertips from creeping up to the top of the water without my wrist going with it, didn't actually shave a large chunk of time off. So what was the tip that finally did it?
High elbows. Only I had already been working on that. High elbows in the water AND out of the water right? However, I didn't really understand fully what that meant, and that in the water was by far the most important. Sure, my elbows were "high". But not near high enough. In order to grab and "catch" as much water as possible, the hand needs to start going straight back as quickly as possible. And what this means is that elbow actually stays at the top of the water during the entire pull phase of the stroke, as the elbow bends and the hand moves as straight backward as possible. Not diving immediately deep and pushing the head up out of the water as I had previously swam, virtually my whole swimming life. Now high elbows out of the water means good rotation, which is important, but not nearly as much as how much water you can actually catch and push behind you to propel you forward. Combine this with a tip I got from local pro, Daniel Tigert, at the Tri-Okc expo, to push my stroke out, away from my body (how it feels, but not what is happening), so that my hands don't cross my centerline upon entry, and I finally gained significant speed in my swim stroke. Out of the approximate 15 seconds per 100 that I had needed to shave off my swim stroke in order to at least be at the back of the pro ranks on the swim, 10 seconds had dropped virtually overnight. Swimming with the pros is now that much closer of a reality and I now have the confidence boost my swim training needed, knowing that the big question, "when is my swimming finally going to get faster?" has now been answered.
Throughout the last couple of years, as I seemingly fixed some part of my stroke, and correspondingly felt faster in the water, I was convinced that I had finally done it. But each time, the fix was correspondingly quite small, and often, quite inconsequential. From all the time spent working on the "connection" between the lower body and upper body in the stroke, to just recently when I finally learned how to perform a full 6 beat kick with no deadspots (turns out I've always had a great 4 beat kick, but aside from the opening sprint at the beginning of a race, I need to be focusing on a 2 beat kick). Each time, from keeping my head more still in the water and letting it rotate with my body to correcting my hand entry to entering right near my head instead of throwing it out as far as I can, the actual differences in speed were quite minimal. Even one of the big ones, where I flattened my hand out and kept my fingertips from creeping up to the top of the water without my wrist going with it, didn't actually shave a large chunk of time off. So what was the tip that finally did it?
High elbows. Only I had already been working on that. High elbows in the water AND out of the water right? However, I didn't really understand fully what that meant, and that in the water was by far the most important. Sure, my elbows were "high". But not near high enough. In order to grab and "catch" as much water as possible, the hand needs to start going straight back as quickly as possible. And what this means is that elbow actually stays at the top of the water during the entire pull phase of the stroke, as the elbow bends and the hand moves as straight backward as possible. Not diving immediately deep and pushing the head up out of the water as I had previously swam, virtually my whole swimming life. Now high elbows out of the water means good rotation, which is important, but not nearly as much as how much water you can actually catch and push behind you to propel you forward. Combine this with a tip I got from local pro, Daniel Tigert, at the Tri-Okc expo, to push my stroke out, away from my body (how it feels, but not what is happening), so that my hands don't cross my centerline upon entry, and I finally gained significant speed in my swim stroke. Out of the approximate 15 seconds per 100 that I had needed to shave off my swim stroke in order to at least be at the back of the pro ranks on the swim, 10 seconds had dropped virtually overnight. Swimming with the pros is now that much closer of a reality and I now have the confidence boost my swim training needed, knowing that the big question, "when is my swimming finally going to get faster?" has now been answered.
ORU Indoor Triathlon
"You're a lap and a half down!" I hear as I sprint off the stationary bike to start the run. Up until this point, I had pretty well "screwed the pooch" at every part of the race. Starting with my swim time. 20 seconds slower than last year. 40 seconds slower than expected. I had bumped my swim mileage up 250% over the week. That probably didn't help. But I had to do something to compensate for the lack of running stemming from an injury earlier in the week. At this point, I could still only run half a mile pain free. Hopefully, that wouldn't be the case during the race.
Which, back to it, I had spent way too long setting my bike up. Last year, I had a bike pre-setup. This year that wasn't allowed. And I definitely picked the wrong bike to try and setup to my specs. There's another 20 seconds. Or more. And then the spin as fast as you can stand bike leg of the indoor race was on. The previous year, with all the spin classes and gold sprint races I had been doing, spinning fast for a long time was something I could do. This year, with all the outside biking I'd been doing, I was much, much faster on the bike. But not a faster spinner.
All of this meant that as I started the run, I was a minute and a half down in my heat with just a 2 mile run left to catch up. If I was going to have a chance to repeat as champion and win the $100 gift certificate, desperately needed for a new pair of running shoes, I was going to have to hit one heck of a good run. Luckily, with that kind of adrenaline going, I never even felt the knee.
Three laps later I had caught up the half a lap, and had a full 10 laps left to make up the rest. That's when the pain hit. Without doing any hard running in months, I was now in a situation my body was really not used to. My heart rate had been at the ceiling the whole race. Now it had busted through the roof and into my throat. And, as expected, I was not prepared to handle it at this point in the season.
I was shut down for the next couple of laps as I struggled to get myself back under control and convince myself I could still make up the time needed to win this race. The next few laps I did all I could to pick the pace back up, with the hopes that I was indeed still catching, still making up time.
And then I saw him. But with only three laps left, I was still half a lap down. I didn't think I could do it. I was already doing everything I could to keep the side stitches at bay and I was growing more and more nautious each lap. But I had to try.
The pace was kicked up again. To the max I thought I could sustain for the next lap. Instantly I was there. Closing in fast. Halfway through the next lap I was now trailing, stalking my prey, waiting for the right time to make my move, and trying to recover, just a little, before launching the final kick to the finish.
He heard me coming and sped up to prevent the pass. All the way until we were both kicking like it was the last lap. Except it wasn't. There was one more left. And if he could hold this pace, it would be his.
But there was no way. We were almost sprinting. This race was mine. He had to have misjudged. And, after finding there was still a lap left, he broke. It had been the last courageous kick to try to hold the lead for a possible win. But the race was a lap too long for him and just long enough for me to catch up and pull away for what did, turn out to be the win.
After all the times were in, we had put down the two fastest times of the day and pushed each other to the top, over some very good athletes. And I got that pair of shoes I needed.
Which, back to it, I had spent way too long setting my bike up. Last year, I had a bike pre-setup. This year that wasn't allowed. And I definitely picked the wrong bike to try and setup to my specs. There's another 20 seconds. Or more. And then the spin as fast as you can stand bike leg of the indoor race was on. The previous year, with all the spin classes and gold sprint races I had been doing, spinning fast for a long time was something I could do. This year, with all the outside biking I'd been doing, I was much, much faster on the bike. But not a faster spinner.
All of this meant that as I started the run, I was a minute and a half down in my heat with just a 2 mile run left to catch up. If I was going to have a chance to repeat as champion and win the $100 gift certificate, desperately needed for a new pair of running shoes, I was going to have to hit one heck of a good run. Luckily, with that kind of adrenaline going, I never even felt the knee.
Three laps later I had caught up the half a lap, and had a full 10 laps left to make up the rest. That's when the pain hit. Without doing any hard running in months, I was now in a situation my body was really not used to. My heart rate had been at the ceiling the whole race. Now it had busted through the roof and into my throat. And, as expected, I was not prepared to handle it at this point in the season.
I was shut down for the next couple of laps as I struggled to get myself back under control and convince myself I could still make up the time needed to win this race. The next few laps I did all I could to pick the pace back up, with the hopes that I was indeed still catching, still making up time.
And then I saw him. But with only three laps left, I was still half a lap down. I didn't think I could do it. I was already doing everything I could to keep the side stitches at bay and I was growing more and more nautious each lap. But I had to try.
The pace was kicked up again. To the max I thought I could sustain for the next lap. Instantly I was there. Closing in fast. Halfway through the next lap I was now trailing, stalking my prey, waiting for the right time to make my move, and trying to recover, just a little, before launching the final kick to the finish.
He heard me coming and sped up to prevent the pass. All the way until we were both kicking like it was the last lap. Except it wasn't. There was one more left. And if he could hold this pace, it would be his.
But there was no way. We were almost sprinting. This race was mine. He had to have misjudged. And, after finding there was still a lap left, he broke. It had been the last courageous kick to try to hold the lead for a possible win. But the race was a lap too long for him and just long enough for me to catch up and pull away for what did, turn out to be the win.
After all the times were in, we had put down the two fastest times of the day and pushed each other to the top, over some very good athletes. And I got that pair of shoes I needed.
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