After much frustration from lots of swimming and little progress over the last couple years, I finally decided to have my stroke analyzed by someone who knows what they're doing. For this, I went to Swimlabs in Denver for a complete stroke analysis and video. What I found is this:
1. My catch is good. What I thought was the single biggest flaw in my stroke was perfectly fine. I was performing a good high elbow catch with decent starting hand position (need to go a little deeper) and getting a grip on a good amount of water.
2. What followed was not good. I kept my elbow high, almost to the very top of the water, and was thus not able to grab much water through the rest of my stroke. In order to get still water to grab onto I needed to pull at a much deeper level.
3. From there, it did not get better. Instead of pushing hard out the back with strong triceps I chopped my stroke short and exited the water with no final push. This is likely a throwback from my high school days as a sprinter where that final push wasn't necessarily as useful in my high cadence, no form thrashing that somehow wasn't slow.
4. The final problem with the pull phase was that I simply did not have the strength to accelerate through the swim stroke time and time again. Because of the good form of my catch, large paddles were recommended to help develop this strength (it should be noted, paddles, especially large ones, should not be used without proper form).
5. After that, out of the water, form was good, but it was recommended that a straighter arm recovery could be beneficial for optimal higher cadence open water endurance swimming as it redirected the momentum of the arm instead of stopping it and starting in a new plane of motion. I had previously wondered why so many professional triathletes did this and now I know. However, since it deals with out of the water movement, it is last on my priority list to attempt to change. Though I am definitely not doing any more "fingertip" drills.
6. The final major flaw on my swim stroke was a tendency to occasionally flail the legs apart on my two beat kick. Though this maneuver is like a parachute for drag, simply swimming more seems to keep this from happening and is not currently a concern.
So with all those problems fixed or being worked on I now finally feel like I'm swimming properly. Now I just got to do a crap ton more of it...
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
A Few Swim Tips
So now that I'm in off-season with nothing to train for and a knee to heal up, what do I do? Go straight to intensive studying of the swim stroke and proceed to immediately jump to my biggest swimming week yet (just hit my 3rd straight day of a hard 5k swim off a 20k week). So with all this swimming, I've also been able to observe a lot of other swimmers in the pool. Upon seeing these mistakes made time and time again with more swimmers than I can count, I'd like to go over my top 3 common mistakes I see in the many novice swimmers at the pool.
1. Crossing over the body's center line. This is the big one. The most common by far, and the easiest to spot (or simply most common because it is the easiest to spot). I particularly see this on the opposite arm when the swimmer is lifting (should be rotating...) the head to breath. When their head lifts/rotates, the arm moves in, crosses the center line and pulls the body off its axis of rotation.
2. Straight arm catch. Not getting the elbow high on the catch to pull back on the water and instead pushing down on the water first, causing the legs to drop to react to the force. This move can also cause shoulder problems, particularly with paddles (I should know, I experienced it years ago).
3. Ultra low cadence. While getting cadence up to as high as an elite swimmer is something I am struggling with and working very hard on myself, a cadence that is too low can make it very difficult/almost impossible to get into any kind of rhythm. It also means less oxygen delivery to the muscles from opportunities to breathe. Wherever your level, you can likely benefit from working on getting more comfortable at a higher cadence.
If you know you do one or more of those, don't worry, in the next post I'll cover some of my own flaws I have recently discovered about my stroke upon Swimlabs video analysis.
1. Crossing over the body's center line. This is the big one. The most common by far, and the easiest to spot (or simply most common because it is the easiest to spot). I particularly see this on the opposite arm when the swimmer is lifting (should be rotating...) the head to breath. When their head lifts/rotates, the arm moves in, crosses the center line and pulls the body off its axis of rotation.
2. Straight arm catch. Not getting the elbow high on the catch to pull back on the water and instead pushing down on the water first, causing the legs to drop to react to the force. This move can also cause shoulder problems, particularly with paddles (I should know, I experienced it years ago).
3. Ultra low cadence. While getting cadence up to as high as an elite swimmer is something I am struggling with and working very hard on myself, a cadence that is too low can make it very difficult/almost impossible to get into any kind of rhythm. It also means less oxygen delivery to the muscles from opportunities to breathe. Wherever your level, you can likely benefit from working on getting more comfortable at a higher cadence.
If you know you do one or more of those, don't worry, in the next post I'll cover some of my own flaws I have recently discovered about my stroke upon Swimlabs video analysis.
2nd Ironman: The Fixes That Worked
Though my 2nd Ironman at Louisville this year wasn't much of a success due to the bike mechanical that left me by the side of the road for an hour and 20' waiting for the entire race to pass me, I was still able to finish and test my theoretical fixes I had in place for the problems I encountered at the first. (See May 2013 post "First Ironman: Mistakes and Lessons ")
1. Swimming easier. My form never broke down and I actually swam faster for a much, much easier effort with little to no swimming going into the race. Though the course was likely 6' faster from current, I was still 3' faster which suggests that very little time was lost from this strategy and that next time a balance between the two will yield not only the best time but the best result.
2. Waiting to pee on the bike. I skipped the port-a-potty in T1 in favor of a nice downhill stretch on the bike. When shooting for Kona, minutes and seconds count.
3. Leaving a bottle cage empty to place extra bottles from aid stations. This was a big one. It allowed me to keep much cooler by grabbing not only the Gatorade bottle I would need for nutrition but also a water bottle to use only to periodically douse my head and body with water. I had planned on finding a different flat tire setup to add a cage to the rear of my bike, but ended up just racing with no regular bottles and only some initial water in my front aero bottle. This worked perfectly. It allowed me to stash a regular bottle for cooling in my single frame cage and then grab a Gatorade bottle at the end of the aid station to refill the aero bottle (while still allowing some tweaking of the Gatorade concentration later on in the race with the bottle of water on the frame). I found no need for anything more.
4. Wearing a hat on the run. The hat I got from Vegas 70.3 last year was white and made of coolmax material so I decided to try that. The difference was big. While the heat was much less than Texas (about 5° lower, but the big difference was the amount of shade and an extra close aid station instead of one extra far apart), instead of feeling like I was melting for the entire run, I actually felt COLD. Being able to stuff ice inside the hat to keep the head cold was a major benefit in the heat.
5. Bending the head when pouring water over it on the run. This simple trick worked perfectly for keeping water out of the shoes. My feet stayed dry for about 18 miles, and by that time, I don't care if things are getting a bit wet and squishy. The Hoka Bondi S2's worked great.
Overall, it was a positive and very enjoyable experience. Can't wait for Ironman Boulder in 2014!
1. Swimming easier. My form never broke down and I actually swam faster for a much, much easier effort with little to no swimming going into the race. Though the course was likely 6' faster from current, I was still 3' faster which suggests that very little time was lost from this strategy and that next time a balance between the two will yield not only the best time but the best result.
2. Waiting to pee on the bike. I skipped the port-a-potty in T1 in favor of a nice downhill stretch on the bike. When shooting for Kona, minutes and seconds count.
3. Leaving a bottle cage empty to place extra bottles from aid stations. This was a big one. It allowed me to keep much cooler by grabbing not only the Gatorade bottle I would need for nutrition but also a water bottle to use only to periodically douse my head and body with water. I had planned on finding a different flat tire setup to add a cage to the rear of my bike, but ended up just racing with no regular bottles and only some initial water in my front aero bottle. This worked perfectly. It allowed me to stash a regular bottle for cooling in my single frame cage and then grab a Gatorade bottle at the end of the aid station to refill the aero bottle (while still allowing some tweaking of the Gatorade concentration later on in the race with the bottle of water on the frame). I found no need for anything more.
4. Wearing a hat on the run. The hat I got from Vegas 70.3 last year was white and made of coolmax material so I decided to try that. The difference was big. While the heat was much less than Texas (about 5° lower, but the big difference was the amount of shade and an extra close aid station instead of one extra far apart), instead of feeling like I was melting for the entire run, I actually felt COLD. Being able to stuff ice inside the hat to keep the head cold was a major benefit in the heat.
5. Bending the head when pouring water over it on the run. This simple trick worked perfectly for keeping water out of the shoes. My feet stayed dry for about 18 miles, and by that time, I don't care if things are getting a bit wet and squishy. The Hoka Bondi S2's worked great.
Overall, it was a positive and very enjoyable experience. Can't wait for Ironman Boulder in 2014!
End of Season Update
Well everything after my first Ironman at Texas has, frankly, been very tough. There has been plenty to talk of, however, none of it very positive. Basically, I have bounced in and out of overtraining for several months and more recently a flare up of runner's knee that turned out to be much worse than originally perceived which have led to a LOT of either laying around doing nothing or going out to happy hour to stave off the disappointment of not being able to train.
It started about 18 days after Ironman. I didn't realize it then, but looking back this was the workout that did it. For two weeks I did next to nothing. Until it was time to race at Best of the US. An opportunity I could not pass up. Best of the US went, in large part, uneventful. For me, a low 23' swim for an Olympic was decent, however, it put me in DFL for the division. Luckily, there were other racers in the elite division of the Leon's Triathlon to come out of the water around me. On the bike, it was a slow day. Watts weren't great, but the course, being cold and windy with rough roads, did not suit my strengths. Still, I pushed as hard as I could on the bike and was just happy to find my legs didn't give out on me on the run as I barely broke 40' for the 10k, passing only 2 people in the division. At this point though, I figured, I was now on my way back to recovery. How wrong that was...
The workout started out as a nice easy ride back in Tulsa, OK, at the famous Wednesday Night Ride. And I did go easy. Until the legs started to feel really good. Really powerful. I started to ride tempo for a bit. It felt good. Really good. And that's when I saw them. The fast group. Forty to fifty Category 1-3 cyclists about to haul ass on the final stretch on Avery drive building into a massive finishing sprint. I decided to see if I could catch up. I was there quicker than I thought. But they were just getting moving. Once I had passed all but three or four, I became noticed, and they weren't about to let a triathlete have even a few seconds of glory. The pace got hot, and I was already maxed out trying to at least make it to the front for a second or two before dropping dead where I stood. Luckily, I had my race wheels and tires still attached from the previous race and was making it difficult. After what seemed an eternity, I made the pass; and promptly was swallowed up. With my heart in my mouth, I jumped out of the aerobars and tucked in for the ride, somehow surviving until the final sprint. Turns out, that 15' was the hardest I had ever rode for that time period and yielded a very good new 10' power. I was ecstatic.
That's when it all came unraveled. The next days' recovery runs became tougher and tougher, until that Sunday I tried to race a small aquathlon and found myself struggling to run a 9' mile for the 5k run. The next weekend was a sprint triathlon where I ran my slowest 5k in years and could barely hold Ironman watts for the bike leg. I thought I was simply out of shape, as it didn't feel the same as when I was overtrained last year. My resting heart rate was even still within parameters. But when I tried to breathe, it felt like I couldn't get oxygen. I decided this was a time to suck it up and push on. Two weeks later, I had built back up to a solid century ride with good power, but my heart rate was high the entire time. Too high. Things still weren't right. I had to rest.
After a few more weeks of rest just not doing what it should, I had started to finally realize it could be overtraining. Not the type I had experienced last year, but a different kind. Overtraining of a different nervous system. Until this point, I hadn't realized there were multiple types of overtraining. Last time, it was parasympathetic. This time, the sympathetic system. My only option was, sigh, much more rest.
Luckily, it hadn't gotten too bad. It was almost as if I had been bouncing back and forth across the line during the first half of the summer. It was mid-July now, however, and Ironman Louisville loomed just 6 weeks away. Three weeks later I had no idea where my fitness would be, but I was going to race the Boulder 70.3 because one, I had signed up and two, I had paid for it. It turned out to be the first day in months that I was finally healthy. I cruised to a sub-5 finish with ease, despite poor fitness and the atmosphere of a race making it difficult to treat the day as a training one.
Two and a half hard weeks later though and I had the majority of my fitness back and was ready to give it my all for my last shot at Kona this year. Ironman Louisville started out well enough, with a swim time 3' faster than at Texas despite no time in the pool for the last two months and swimming much easier (course was likely 6' faster with current). With a faster and more efficient transition I started the bike a solid 5' ahead of my Texas split and target power was feeling relatively easy. I was ready to blitz the course and hope my run fitness was good enough for a spot. Twenty-five miles in, on a steep hill, I shifted hard to my easiest gear and instantly regretted it. The chain had gotten stuck between the derailleur and wheel. It would be an hour and 20' before SAG finally was able to get into the area and get the chain loose. I literally had to wait for every single person in the race to pass me. My shot at Kona was gone for the year.
If there was an opportunity to quit the race right there, I would have took it. But I had to at least bike back to transition, so I figured I might as well take the long way in. From there, I rode endurance watts in and tested my new strategies for keeping cool in the heat. I figured I would walk most of the run. But after a few miles I joined up with some good company and decided to run him in for a 12:31 finish. My additional heat strategies worked well enough I almost felt cold in the 90 degree heat during the run. Heart rate stayed stuck at a 145 average the entire run, 30 beats below what I raced at in Texas! Overall, I was pleased to be able to finish around 11:10ish for an easy endurance pace and very proud of my mental strength for pushing through what was an extremely painful run and bike in a very different way. With a long ride of 3 hours and a long run of 1:20 as prep for the race, everything that normally doesn't hurt was incredibly painful. Back, shoulders, neck on the bike. FEET on the run. I was worried my feet might fall off after 15 miles. After 26.2...
After a dismal end to an otherwise successful season, I had to finish with a bang. Instead of training for Kona I figured I would train for a marathon. Three weeks away should be plenty of time, right? And it would have, if it wasn't for an old runner's knee flare up from two weeks of hard cycling, hiking, and trail running out in Moab and along the coast of California. The Denver Marathon became my first DNF from injury. It was too much too fast and I should have known, might have known, if I hadn't been having so much fun being able to hike, bike and run to my heart's content.
Lesson learned? It's not just knowing when to back off but also how much for how long and how to properly come back.
It started about 18 days after Ironman. I didn't realize it then, but looking back this was the workout that did it. For two weeks I did next to nothing. Until it was time to race at Best of the US. An opportunity I could not pass up. Best of the US went, in large part, uneventful. For me, a low 23' swim for an Olympic was decent, however, it put me in DFL for the division. Luckily, there were other racers in the elite division of the Leon's Triathlon to come out of the water around me. On the bike, it was a slow day. Watts weren't great, but the course, being cold and windy with rough roads, did not suit my strengths. Still, I pushed as hard as I could on the bike and was just happy to find my legs didn't give out on me on the run as I barely broke 40' for the 10k, passing only 2 people in the division. At this point though, I figured, I was now on my way back to recovery. How wrong that was...
The workout started out as a nice easy ride back in Tulsa, OK, at the famous Wednesday Night Ride. And I did go easy. Until the legs started to feel really good. Really powerful. I started to ride tempo for a bit. It felt good. Really good. And that's when I saw them. The fast group. Forty to fifty Category 1-3 cyclists about to haul ass on the final stretch on Avery drive building into a massive finishing sprint. I decided to see if I could catch up. I was there quicker than I thought. But they were just getting moving. Once I had passed all but three or four, I became noticed, and they weren't about to let a triathlete have even a few seconds of glory. The pace got hot, and I was already maxed out trying to at least make it to the front for a second or two before dropping dead where I stood. Luckily, I had my race wheels and tires still attached from the previous race and was making it difficult. After what seemed an eternity, I made the pass; and promptly was swallowed up. With my heart in my mouth, I jumped out of the aerobars and tucked in for the ride, somehow surviving until the final sprint. Turns out, that 15' was the hardest I had ever rode for that time period and yielded a very good new 10' power. I was ecstatic.
That's when it all came unraveled. The next days' recovery runs became tougher and tougher, until that Sunday I tried to race a small aquathlon and found myself struggling to run a 9' mile for the 5k run. The next weekend was a sprint triathlon where I ran my slowest 5k in years and could barely hold Ironman watts for the bike leg. I thought I was simply out of shape, as it didn't feel the same as when I was overtrained last year. My resting heart rate was even still within parameters. But when I tried to breathe, it felt like I couldn't get oxygen. I decided this was a time to suck it up and push on. Two weeks later, I had built back up to a solid century ride with good power, but my heart rate was high the entire time. Too high. Things still weren't right. I had to rest.
After a few more weeks of rest just not doing what it should, I had started to finally realize it could be overtraining. Not the type I had experienced last year, but a different kind. Overtraining of a different nervous system. Until this point, I hadn't realized there were multiple types of overtraining. Last time, it was parasympathetic. This time, the sympathetic system. My only option was, sigh, much more rest.
Luckily, it hadn't gotten too bad. It was almost as if I had been bouncing back and forth across the line during the first half of the summer. It was mid-July now, however, and Ironman Louisville loomed just 6 weeks away. Three weeks later I had no idea where my fitness would be, but I was going to race the Boulder 70.3 because one, I had signed up and two, I had paid for it. It turned out to be the first day in months that I was finally healthy. I cruised to a sub-5 finish with ease, despite poor fitness and the atmosphere of a race making it difficult to treat the day as a training one.
Two and a half hard weeks later though and I had the majority of my fitness back and was ready to give it my all for my last shot at Kona this year. Ironman Louisville started out well enough, with a swim time 3' faster than at Texas despite no time in the pool for the last two months and swimming much easier (course was likely 6' faster with current). With a faster and more efficient transition I started the bike a solid 5' ahead of my Texas split and target power was feeling relatively easy. I was ready to blitz the course and hope my run fitness was good enough for a spot. Twenty-five miles in, on a steep hill, I shifted hard to my easiest gear and instantly regretted it. The chain had gotten stuck between the derailleur and wheel. It would be an hour and 20' before SAG finally was able to get into the area and get the chain loose. I literally had to wait for every single person in the race to pass me. My shot at Kona was gone for the year.
If there was an opportunity to quit the race right there, I would have took it. But I had to at least bike back to transition, so I figured I might as well take the long way in. From there, I rode endurance watts in and tested my new strategies for keeping cool in the heat. I figured I would walk most of the run. But after a few miles I joined up with some good company and decided to run him in for a 12:31 finish. My additional heat strategies worked well enough I almost felt cold in the 90 degree heat during the run. Heart rate stayed stuck at a 145 average the entire run, 30 beats below what I raced at in Texas! Overall, I was pleased to be able to finish around 11:10ish for an easy endurance pace and very proud of my mental strength for pushing through what was an extremely painful run and bike in a very different way. With a long ride of 3 hours and a long run of 1:20 as prep for the race, everything that normally doesn't hurt was incredibly painful. Back, shoulders, neck on the bike. FEET on the run. I was worried my feet might fall off after 15 miles. After 26.2...
After a dismal end to an otherwise successful season, I had to finish with a bang. Instead of training for Kona I figured I would train for a marathon. Three weeks away should be plenty of time, right? And it would have, if it wasn't for an old runner's knee flare up from two weeks of hard cycling, hiking, and trail running out in Moab and along the coast of California. The Denver Marathon became my first DNF from injury. It was too much too fast and I should have known, might have known, if I hadn't been having so much fun being able to hike, bike and run to my heart's content.
Lesson learned? It's not just knowing when to back off but also how much for how long and how to properly come back.
Monday, May 20, 2013
First Ironman: Mistakes and Lessons
After my first Ironman in the Woodlands of Texas this past weekend, I have begun to reflect on all that could have been improved upon during the race, as well as what went right. Luckily for me, the most important parts all went near perfect, however there were several mistakes made.
Mistakes:
Mistakes:
- Not coating bike shoe hot spot(s) in Vaseline (not sure how I forgot this one...)
- Using the bathroom in T1. Took a very long time to get my one-piece suit down when soaking wet and then spent even longer loosing all the morning beverages.
- Not going over the new transition routine thoroughly enough beforehand. I not only left my speedsuit on when putting on my bike shoes and had to take them off and put them on again, but I also spent about 5 seconds staring at my bike trying to remember how to get on it with another 5-10 trying to clip my first shoe in (the flying mount has become second nature but take that away and I'm as clueless as everyone else in the post-swim race fog).
- Forgetting important things like all of the electrolyte capsules, taping some emergency gels to the bike, and a hat/visor to hold in ice and cold water while providing shade for the run.
- Not doing any riding in the backup tri shoes that actually vent air to cool the feet and have a drain hole so that the shoe doesn't just fill up with the fluids occasionally running down your leg. (Note: this required that these shoes, though better suited for the conditions, not be used)
- Putting sweet peach tea in the bottle that you would later decided needs to be used to douse the head and body in an effort to keep cool.
- Not having enough bottle cages (I had one plus my aero drink bottle). Without anywhere to actually hold a bottle, I almost wrecked when I tried to grab two bottles at an aid station.
- Not replacing the seriously worn grips and pads on the bike. When wet, it made it very difficult to grab the bike with one hand that is also holding a bottle at the same time (see previous mistake about almost wrecking).
- Wearing big heavy shoes (Hokas) that hold water on the run. With the heat index close to 100 or over on the run, I was actually making squishing noises from the first aid station on.
- And the most important, stop trying to taper by feel. A week before the race, my legs were trashed, and though I was good to go by raceday and my fitness was phenomenal, I was not nearly rested enough to peak.
- The pain of swimming with tightly suctioned goggles for over an hour.
- The pain of swimming for over an hour.
- Wearing a speedsuit that is so tight it actually cuts into your chest.
- Biking alone for hours into a headwind.
- Running barefoot on pavement in transition that is so hot, it literally burns your feet.
- Running 26.2 miles on burned feet in wet, heavy, soggy socks and shoes.
- Running 26.2 miles on legs with a bit too much pre-race fatigue.
- Swim position: I lined up on the far left, about 5 rows deep and had clean water the entire way.
- Bike setup: Flo wheels with disc cover, an Evo Corsa rear tire, GP4000S front tire, latex tubes, TriRig Omega brake and Wingspan helmet worked beautifully! With the majority of the roads being smooth, 184W average yielded 22.5mph on a windy day.
- Mental Toughness: Running from aid station to aid station, just barely making it before you collapse is no way to run for 20+ miles, but it can be done!
- Gameplan: After a slow swim, I decided to relax and enjoy the day as much as possible (and I did really enjoy the first half of the bike!).
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Ironman: The Toughest and Most Rewarding Event I've Done
It all started with the Friday before the race. Not immediately before, but a week before. I hit a wall. I couldn't make it through a simple recovery workout. I could barely hold 8:30/mi pace. Even fatigued, I still had no problem running sub 7:30 pace with ease until this point. I had gone too hard. In my quest for every last bit of fitness, I had upped the intensity with my decreased volume during taper. Only, I upped it too much and did not included enough rest. I was in serious trouble for my first Ironman.
Come raceday though, I was ready to rock. The day before I had felt good for the first time. Fitness was excellent, and I had enough rest to race. I would need another week of rest to actually hit form. However, with good fitness, racing fast with a good bit of fatigue is possible. It just hurts a lot more. And boy did it ever hurt...
The morning of raceday started just fine with a breakfast of oatmeal, a banana, chocolate muffin, yogurt, green tea, some electrolyte drink, and a Lara bar. I was getting transition ready, however, and realized they were closing it 15' before what I thought I had seen posted. Uh oh. A mad rush ensued, and I barely got the tires aired up and everything together in time. Upon getting back to the car to drive to swim start, I realized I still had my run visor and my electrolyte pills. This was not good. There was nothing I could do to add them now.
For the start I decided the inside (left) was the best position. It required treading water for 10 minutes before hand, but it was perfect. I started about 5 rows back (at the true swim start line) and had clean water for the entire swim. Occasionally of course someone tried (or did) swim over or across me or two people converged to sandwhich me, but all of that is part of open water swimming (what makes it fun). None of the turns were all that crowded where I was and several times large gaps opened in front of me making it difficult to keep a decent draft. However, because of the seemingly lack of people around me, I though I might be swimming well enough to post a decent time. Unfortunately, this was not the case and I should have known as I struggled to keep my cadence high for most of it and I could tell that I was having trouble keeping my body position as well.
Even with the swim being slower for most than normal, I was slow for me. Very slow. I posted a 1:10, 5' off my slowest estimate from my swim training in Florida. However, a week off swimming during travel had devastated my swim speed and I should have known that it would not magically reappear.
This turned out to be a good thing though, as I threw out my Kona aspirations, and changed the game plan to simply finishing and enjoying the experience. After spending seemingly forever in transition trying to figure out how to quickly put on bike shoes and then having to take them off because I still had my speedsuit on, I was on the bike and ready to roll.
Immediately, the power was there, but it wasn't easy. And the heart rate was too high. It was at half-Ironman HR and not dropping. So I backed it off 20W or so with the idea to just enjoy the ride. However, this was still much more uncomfortable than it should have been, though the legs had no problem making it with ease. It was actually quite fun passing people for the first 50 or 60 miles, but that's when I ran out of people to pass and found myself stuck going back into the wind with hardly a soul in sight. Things got tough. Very tough. However, the legs still made power easily (it was simply very uncomfortable to ride, possibly more due to the heat than anything else) so I upped it to target watts around mile 70 and held for the remainder.
Magically, after I hit the century mark in the fastest time ever for me (4:26!), I started feeling really really good. Until I got really hungry and realized the last gel that I thought I had was not there! With 5 miles left to ride, I got desperate and started hitting up the riders that I was now passing again for anything they could spare. I lucked out when a woman with a foreign accent understood me enough to pass off a gel containing writing I could not read. Soon I was back on the power blazing toward the run that I was certain that I was going to decimate. For an incredibly windy day (more so on the way back in of course...), I was surprised and exhilarated with the time, especially for the conservative wattage I held. I hit 4:58 which was what I had estimated for target wattage (about 10w higher than my normalized wattage for the ride). The new setup with the Flo wheels, disc cover, conti gp4000s front, Evo corsa rear, latex tubes, Rudy Project helmet, TriRig Omega brake, and my normal slammed position worked out very well!
In transition, the pavement was hot. Some I heard got up to 2nd degree burns. All I know is my feet still hurt from it days later. I shrugged it off and coated the feet in Vaseline though because I had a marathon to run! But I didn't feel good like I thought I should have. It was more of a struggle than I expected and I felt like I was running quite slow (though it turns out I split sub 7 for that first mile). After a long bathroom break (the 6th I think after the one in T1 and the 4ish times on the bike), I was feeling better. For about a quarter mile and then the legs decided they just didn't want to work properly. Not to mention the bloated feeling and gas from all the Perform on the bike. I was soon struggling just to make it to the next aid station and forced to a quick shuffle in order to simply keep moving. I knew right here it was going to be an even longer day than I had thought, but I was determined to finish and holding out hope that if I kept moving I might catch a resurgence somewhere down the line.
While I did finally blow out (literally...) all of the indigestion problems I was having, I was able to pick up the pace slightly for a few miles, but I never did get that resurgence. It was a struggle the entire way. It was just like my first half-Ironman I did, except when I got to 13.1 miles, I still had another 13.1 to go. But I do not give up. I do not quit. I do not stop moving. Tough races where I can outlast, out suffer, and shuffle past the faster athletes who stop moving is where I shine. And suffer I did. More than ever before by a factor too high to estimate. Only a few really know where the body's limits are (Julie Moss to name one) and most are not prepared to push them there, especially when things are not going perfectly to plan. But I am. Though I thankfully didn't hit them today, it was not for lack of trying. For the last six miles, every other step, a muscle in my upper calf, lower calf, or hamstring threatened to buckle me if my core was not strong enough to keep my balance. The cramps were so severe, I wasn't sure if I could finish until a half mile to go. But the body will keep moving if you will it to.
In the last few miles I tried electrolyte capsules I bummed off another competitor. Unfortunately for me, the cramps were from overuse. They weren't going to stop until I did. With my 3 long runs this year at 15-16 miles (why I was able to come into this race uninjured), it was no surprise that these muscles were rebelling particularly when, mistake #onetoomany, I thought it a good idea to wear my Hokas to run in. While they were, in fact, fantastic in many aspects, with the temperature in the 90's and humidity bringing the heat index up much higher, they were also soaked and making loud squishing noises from mile 2 on. It must have been comical to all that I passed!
Now as an engineer, I normally prep for races much better than this, but this time, I let myself get distracted and completely dropped the ball! However, a tough as nails mentality and a near perfect nutrition/hydration strategy got me through the day in what was to be the most unbelievable result I could have imagined. I was beyond ecstatic to post a sub-10 time at my first Ironman when I crossed the line in 9:53:15 with a brutal 3:35 run. Even more so when I realized that because of the tough conditions, this year it was good enough for 5th in AG and 24th amateur! This race will definitely be a race that I will always remember and cherish, not just for the time and placement, but for the wonderful suffering it took to get there. The greatest accomplishments always involve the most sacrifice, the most work, and the most pain. For me, this was one of them.
Come raceday though, I was ready to rock. The day before I had felt good for the first time. Fitness was excellent, and I had enough rest to race. I would need another week of rest to actually hit form. However, with good fitness, racing fast with a good bit of fatigue is possible. It just hurts a lot more. And boy did it ever hurt...
The morning of raceday started just fine with a breakfast of oatmeal, a banana, chocolate muffin, yogurt, green tea, some electrolyte drink, and a Lara bar. I was getting transition ready, however, and realized they were closing it 15' before what I thought I had seen posted. Uh oh. A mad rush ensued, and I barely got the tires aired up and everything together in time. Upon getting back to the car to drive to swim start, I realized I still had my run visor and my electrolyte pills. This was not good. There was nothing I could do to add them now.
For the start I decided the inside (left) was the best position. It required treading water for 10 minutes before hand, but it was perfect. I started about 5 rows back (at the true swim start line) and had clean water for the entire swim. Occasionally of course someone tried (or did) swim over or across me or two people converged to sandwhich me, but all of that is part of open water swimming (what makes it fun). None of the turns were all that crowded where I was and several times large gaps opened in front of me making it difficult to keep a decent draft. However, because of the seemingly lack of people around me, I though I might be swimming well enough to post a decent time. Unfortunately, this was not the case and I should have known as I struggled to keep my cadence high for most of it and I could tell that I was having trouble keeping my body position as well.
Even with the swim being slower for most than normal, I was slow for me. Very slow. I posted a 1:10, 5' off my slowest estimate from my swim training in Florida. However, a week off swimming during travel had devastated my swim speed and I should have known that it would not magically reappear.
This turned out to be a good thing though, as I threw out my Kona aspirations, and changed the game plan to simply finishing and enjoying the experience. After spending seemingly forever in transition trying to figure out how to quickly put on bike shoes and then having to take them off because I still had my speedsuit on, I was on the bike and ready to roll.
Immediately, the power was there, but it wasn't easy. And the heart rate was too high. It was at half-Ironman HR and not dropping. So I backed it off 20W or so with the idea to just enjoy the ride. However, this was still much more uncomfortable than it should have been, though the legs had no problem making it with ease. It was actually quite fun passing people for the first 50 or 60 miles, but that's when I ran out of people to pass and found myself stuck going back into the wind with hardly a soul in sight. Things got tough. Very tough. However, the legs still made power easily (it was simply very uncomfortable to ride, possibly more due to the heat than anything else) so I upped it to target watts around mile 70 and held for the remainder. Magically, after I hit the century mark in the fastest time ever for me (4:26!), I started feeling really really good. Until I got really hungry and realized the last gel that I thought I had was not there! With 5 miles left to ride, I got desperate and started hitting up the riders that I was now passing again for anything they could spare. I lucked out when a woman with a foreign accent understood me enough to pass off a gel containing writing I could not read. Soon I was back on the power blazing toward the run that I was certain that I was going to decimate. For an incredibly windy day (more so on the way back in of course...), I was surprised and exhilarated with the time, especially for the conservative wattage I held. I hit 4:58 which was what I had estimated for target wattage (about 10w higher than my normalized wattage for the ride). The new setup with the Flo wheels, disc cover, conti gp4000s front, Evo corsa rear, latex tubes, Rudy Project helmet, TriRig Omega brake, and my normal slammed position worked out very well!
In transition, the pavement was hot. Some I heard got up to 2nd degree burns. All I know is my feet still hurt from it days later. I shrugged it off and coated the feet in Vaseline though because I had a marathon to run! But I didn't feel good like I thought I should have. It was more of a struggle than I expected and I felt like I was running quite slow (though it turns out I split sub 7 for that first mile). After a long bathroom break (the 6th I think after the one in T1 and the 4ish times on the bike), I was feeling better. For about a quarter mile and then the legs decided they just didn't want to work properly. Not to mention the bloated feeling and gas from all the Perform on the bike. I was soon struggling just to make it to the next aid station and forced to a quick shuffle in order to simply keep moving. I knew right here it was going to be an even longer day than I had thought, but I was determined to finish and holding out hope that if I kept moving I might catch a resurgence somewhere down the line.
While I did finally blow out (literally...) all of the indigestion problems I was having, I was able to pick up the pace slightly for a few miles, but I never did get that resurgence. It was a struggle the entire way. It was just like my first half-Ironman I did, except when I got to 13.1 miles, I still had another 13.1 to go. But I do not give up. I do not quit. I do not stop moving. Tough races where I can outlast, out suffer, and shuffle past the faster athletes who stop moving is where I shine. And suffer I did. More than ever before by a factor too high to estimate. Only a few really know where the body's limits are (Julie Moss to name one) and most are not prepared to push them there, especially when things are not going perfectly to plan. But I am. Though I thankfully didn't hit them today, it was not for lack of trying. For the last six miles, every other step, a muscle in my upper calf, lower calf, or hamstring threatened to buckle me if my core was not strong enough to keep my balance. The cramps were so severe, I wasn't sure if I could finish until a half mile to go. But the body will keep moving if you will it to.In the last few miles I tried electrolyte capsules I bummed off another competitor. Unfortunately for me, the cramps were from overuse. They weren't going to stop until I did. With my 3 long runs this year at 15-16 miles (why I was able to come into this race uninjured), it was no surprise that these muscles were rebelling particularly when, mistake #onetoomany, I thought it a good idea to wear my Hokas to run in. While they were, in fact, fantastic in many aspects, with the temperature in the 90's and humidity bringing the heat index up much higher, they were also soaked and making loud squishing noises from mile 2 on. It must have been comical to all that I passed!
Now as an engineer, I normally prep for races much better than this, but this time, I let myself get distracted and completely dropped the ball! However, a tough as nails mentality and a near perfect nutrition/hydration strategy got me through the day in what was to be the most unbelievable result I could have imagined. I was beyond ecstatic to post a sub-10 time at my first Ironman when I crossed the line in 9:53:15 with a brutal 3:35 run. Even more so when I realized that because of the tough conditions, this year it was good enough for 5th in AG and 24th amateur! This race will definitely be a race that I will always remember and cherish, not just for the time and placement, but for the wonderful suffering it took to get there. The greatest accomplishments always involve the most sacrifice, the most work, and the most pain. For me, this was one of them.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Great Clermont International Triathlon
Traditionally, I have always raced faster the day after a sprint triathlon. No matter how hard I push, it just seems to warm my body up to smash it the next day. Unfortunately, this was not quite the case on this day.
The previous day had gone quite well. Followed feet for the short swim and the legs were making good power on the bike the entire time. When I got off to run, only my recent lack of running to heal up a knee injury held me back. I expected, as usual, for things to be even better the next day. However, rough waters, residual fatigue and tight hamstrings made it quite the struggle.
The swim started out well, as I got a jump on the beach start and was off in front until we started swimming. I tucked in and found feet and settled in quick. However, with no swim warm-up, the arms were a bit sluggish, and I quickly found myself swimming all alone with noone around me by the first turn. And that's when I really started to feel the chop of the water. It wasn't much, but it was enough to occasionally obstruct vision on a sight and throw my rhythm off just enough to keep my off balance. I soldiered on though, and on the way back to shore, my arms came alive allowing me to finally get a strong pull on the water as I forced it back behind me with as much acceleration as I could muster.
Surprisingly, I came out of the water in decent shape (a testament to my rapidly improving swim fitness), and after a quick transition was out on the bike working hard to catch everyone I could. Since we were one of the last waves to go, I had a lot of people to pass. I worked flat out, as hard as I could the entire way, not knowing if the legs would last or not. Hitting target power was a struggle though, and the steep hills of the course were taking a toll on my tired and tight hamstrings. Overall, I ended up about 10-15 watts under goal power, but it was enough to catch up to and pass all but one who started in my wave.
Out on the run though, the tight hamstrings and lack of running were really affecting me. Less than a mile in, the plan became to just keep moving, running as hard as I could maintain for one more mile. Despite this, I was getting run down and passed. A lot. I did what I could though, and just kept moving at the fastest pace I could maintain for just a little longer. And then, just passed the halfway mark, when I thought I wasn't going to make it the whole way, my legs woke up. Like a switch, they were on. I felt normal. I pushed the pace up. And up. I was passing again now. Not just the collegiate athletes in the waves ahead struggling to run. I was now repassing the athletes in my wave who had caught me. Faster and faster I ran. I saw the guy leading my age group way up ahead and knew I had to catch him. And do it while we were still running into a headwind. I put on a surge when I got close to discourage him from following. It didn't matter. He was dwindling, as were several others who had blew by me earlier. Either the heat or the tough bike course, had likely caught up to them. I was picking up speed, however, and gaining on the rest of the quicker runners, way up ahead. The course stretched on and on, but it only served to give me more time to catch up. Finally, with the wind at my back, I had caught all but a few, who were still running fast. With a half-mile to go I had run out of room for two up ahead, but there was one more left to catch and he hadn't let up a bit. I was running almost flat out now, as hard as my legs could physically move at this time. I had no more speed to surge, but I tried anyways and my pace kicked up again. The finish line in sight, I held that surge, showing no mercy. I was going to break away now and not leave any chance of a finish line sprint. It worked. I got clear and ran hard into the finish, never slowing up. Turns out, my run fitness was still there, just hiding, waiting for the moment when I needed it most.
It was good enough for 4th in the male under 40 wave, with two over 40 guys and 3 collegiate athletes finishing faster and bumping me to 8th overall and 1st in age group. It was a fun, competitive race and a good gauge to really see how my fitness is coming along. Even now, I am faster than I was last year, which is going to make it fun to see what happens when I get that race where I hit target power on the bike and come flying off of it for the entirety of the run.
The previous day had gone quite well. Followed feet for the short swim and the legs were making good power on the bike the entire time. When I got off to run, only my recent lack of running to heal up a knee injury held me back. I expected, as usual, for things to be even better the next day. However, rough waters, residual fatigue and tight hamstrings made it quite the struggle.
The swim started out well, as I got a jump on the beach start and was off in front until we started swimming. I tucked in and found feet and settled in quick. However, with no swim warm-up, the arms were a bit sluggish, and I quickly found myself swimming all alone with noone around me by the first turn. And that's when I really started to feel the chop of the water. It wasn't much, but it was enough to occasionally obstruct vision on a sight and throw my rhythm off just enough to keep my off balance. I soldiered on though, and on the way back to shore, my arms came alive allowing me to finally get a strong pull on the water as I forced it back behind me with as much acceleration as I could muster.
Surprisingly, I came out of the water in decent shape (a testament to my rapidly improving swim fitness), and after a quick transition was out on the bike working hard to catch everyone I could. Since we were one of the last waves to go, I had a lot of people to pass. I worked flat out, as hard as I could the entire way, not knowing if the legs would last or not. Hitting target power was a struggle though, and the steep hills of the course were taking a toll on my tired and tight hamstrings. Overall, I ended up about 10-15 watts under goal power, but it was enough to catch up to and pass all but one who started in my wave.
Out on the run though, the tight hamstrings and lack of running were really affecting me. Less than a mile in, the plan became to just keep moving, running as hard as I could maintain for one more mile. Despite this, I was getting run down and passed. A lot. I did what I could though, and just kept moving at the fastest pace I could maintain for just a little longer. And then, just passed the halfway mark, when I thought I wasn't going to make it the whole way, my legs woke up. Like a switch, they were on. I felt normal. I pushed the pace up. And up. I was passing again now. Not just the collegiate athletes in the waves ahead struggling to run. I was now repassing the athletes in my wave who had caught me. Faster and faster I ran. I saw the guy leading my age group way up ahead and knew I had to catch him. And do it while we were still running into a headwind. I put on a surge when I got close to discourage him from following. It didn't matter. He was dwindling, as were several others who had blew by me earlier. Either the heat or the tough bike course, had likely caught up to them. I was picking up speed, however, and gaining on the rest of the quicker runners, way up ahead. The course stretched on and on, but it only served to give me more time to catch up. Finally, with the wind at my back, I had caught all but a few, who were still running fast. With a half-mile to go I had run out of room for two up ahead, but there was one more left to catch and he hadn't let up a bit. I was running almost flat out now, as hard as my legs could physically move at this time. I had no more speed to surge, but I tried anyways and my pace kicked up again. The finish line in sight, I held that surge, showing no mercy. I was going to break away now and not leave any chance of a finish line sprint. It worked. I got clear and ran hard into the finish, never slowing up. Turns out, my run fitness was still there, just hiding, waiting for the moment when I needed it most.
It was good enough for 4th in the male under 40 wave, with two over 40 guys and 3 collegiate athletes finishing faster and bumping me to 8th overall and 1st in age group. It was a fun, competitive race and a good gauge to really see how my fitness is coming along. Even now, I am faster than I was last year, which is going to make it fun to see what happens when I get that race where I hit target power on the bike and come flying off of it for the entirety of the run.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Great Clermont Sprint
This week marked a return to running and biking after I decided to take 5 days off from them last week to swi due to a knee injury that wasn't healing well. It was rough, being that my only goal here in Clermont is to do precisely those things, but thankfully, the time off worked, as I've ran and biked the majority of this week and seem to be fully healed. However, most of the week something was off. The hamstrings were so tight on the bike that they were preventing me from riding even as close to as hard or as long as I should have. This was a time where I decided I needed to break through whatever the problem was, as I already had plenty of rest from cycling the previous week. So Thursday, I went out for a long ride. Solo. Two hours in felt like four hours, and it only got worse. Overall, I made it the 4 hours, but just barely, and not without a LOT of struggle. After a 30' run off the bike to see how things felt, I, well... felt really really bad. Terrible in fact. So I went for a swim. And afterwards, all was right.
By Saturday morning the legs were light. And loose. My body had possibly figured out things were not getting easier and so it was going to have to adapt. And it did. It was raceday at the Great Clermont Sprint, and despite some early morning rain and lightning, the air was clear for the start. Despite the extremely short 440yd swim, I decided on a wetsuit because of the 68°F water temp during my warmup swim and then left it on for the extra transition practice. Glad I did, as I had it off in seconds, and it helped me stay ahead of everyone in the small line of swimmers off the front. The first few guys gapped us, but I stayed on the feet of another guy who pulled me all the way around and in with noone else in sight.
Transition went as smooth as ever as I was in my shoes and hammering away in no time. Albeit, up a very steep hill that was not part of the course, as volunteers sent the first few of us on the bike out on to the run course which had us doubling back up a steep section once the mistake was realized. And just like that, the swim advantage we had created was gone. This was now a bike race. However, I had people to work with and we were working hard. A guy in a Subaru kit and race wheels and a former D1 runner from Iowa I had met the day before on a road bike with aerobars. Soon, as the road opened up, I could see the pace car and a small paceline at the front working to try to keep us away. The power went to upper Vo2 max as I poured it on in an attempt to bridge the gap. I knew if I didn't catch them soon, I wouldn't and the whole race would be affected. The guy in the Subaru kit made it. But I didn't have faith in my legs to get me there, and they didn't. I was forced to watch as the rest of the race I did all I could to keep them in sight and from gaining, and surprisingly they stayed right there. They had overcooked the first part of the bike and had settled in a bit. It was only when we got to the hills though that I started to reel at least one of them in. However, that's when the D1 runner caught up.
A quick transition put me in front of the two I was now with to start the run and quickly I could see the leaders weren't far off. We reeled in one, and then another, but I had fallen off their pace when we hit the hills and was now just trying to hold the gap. By the halfway mark we had caught all but one, however, they were pulling further away and I was unable to hang on. Turns out the guy in the Subaru kit who made the break was able to hold them off, while I cruised it in with noone in sight for a solid 1st in Age Group finish and feeling very good about racing again the next day.
By Saturday morning the legs were light. And loose. My body had possibly figured out things were not getting easier and so it was going to have to adapt. And it did. It was raceday at the Great Clermont Sprint, and despite some early morning rain and lightning, the air was clear for the start. Despite the extremely short 440yd swim, I decided on a wetsuit because of the 68°F water temp during my warmup swim and then left it on for the extra transition practice. Glad I did, as I had it off in seconds, and it helped me stay ahead of everyone in the small line of swimmers off the front. The first few guys gapped us, but I stayed on the feet of another guy who pulled me all the way around and in with noone else in sight.
Transition went as smooth as ever as I was in my shoes and hammering away in no time. Albeit, up a very steep hill that was not part of the course, as volunteers sent the first few of us on the bike out on to the run course which had us doubling back up a steep section once the mistake was realized. And just like that, the swim advantage we had created was gone. This was now a bike race. However, I had people to work with and we were working hard. A guy in a Subaru kit and race wheels and a former D1 runner from Iowa I had met the day before on a road bike with aerobars. Soon, as the road opened up, I could see the pace car and a small paceline at the front working to try to keep us away. The power went to upper Vo2 max as I poured it on in an attempt to bridge the gap. I knew if I didn't catch them soon, I wouldn't and the whole race would be affected. The guy in the Subaru kit made it. But I didn't have faith in my legs to get me there, and they didn't. I was forced to watch as the rest of the race I did all I could to keep them in sight and from gaining, and surprisingly they stayed right there. They had overcooked the first part of the bike and had settled in a bit. It was only when we got to the hills though that I started to reel at least one of them in. However, that's when the D1 runner caught up.
A quick transition put me in front of the two I was now with to start the run and quickly I could see the leaders weren't far off. We reeled in one, and then another, but I had fallen off their pace when we hit the hills and was now just trying to hold the gap. By the halfway mark we had caught all but one, however, they were pulling further away and I was unable to hang on. Turns out the guy in the Subaru kit who made the break was able to hold them off, while I cruised it in with noone in sight for a solid 1st in Age Group finish and feeling very good about racing again the next day.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Shaking the Rust Off
Today marked the first outdoor triathlon of the year for me and it didn't disappoint. I somehow got it in my head that the race started at 8:30. It started at 8:15. So at 8:13 I was casually walking through transition down to the beach when I realized my error. Quickly I had a volunteer zip up my wetsuit as I sprinted off towards the water. Only to realize my goggles and swim cap were still stuck in my jersey pocket. With no time to unzip the wetsuit, I tried yanking them out with it still on. It almost worked. Unfortunately for me however, this caused the rubber fitting on my goggle to come off! Luckily they had just started the national anthem and I had another minute or so. When the lens came out as well! Calmly I figured out I could snap it back in and shortly after by a stroke of pure luck (this took me 30' later...) I somehow got the rubber piece back on and aligned just good enough to mostly seal the water from coming in... Seconds before the gun goes off!
Like a shot I'm off. Heart rate is already good and up and I'm off sprinting (as much as one can in 2-3 feet of water) down the shallower right side of the beach with the lead group. Soon though my arms become jello and I fall off the pace and, as usual, end up leading the chase pack. I don't realize this until the turn though because I can't see anything going straight into the sun. Another guy comes around from the outside though, and I jump on his feet for the remainder.
Transition is strength sapping with a fast run up the long, sandy beach. However, I fly through with a flying mount better, quicker and smoother than the vast majority of the ITU pros that raced the previous day. But this is the first race of the year, and I struggle to get in a groove on the bike. My power and cadence constantly surge too high from adrenalin and I end up averaging a wattage far below my goal. To make up for it though my turns are tight as I fly through the transition area at 20mph and stay down pedaling in aero for all but one S-junction and the U-turn for each of the four loops. Average was 23.8mph total which I was quite happy with considering the actual watts averaged. The one lap where I was able to hit my target watts I went 24.5mph, which isn't too far off the fastest guys at just a hair over 25mph.
Dismount from the bike is smooth and fast and though my legs are toast I hit my running stride immediately. From here I don't know what to expect so I keep it at threshold the whole way and only let one guy pass me. I'm off the pace here a bit as well though as the plan was for a 19 flat 5k and I come through that mark about 30 seconds back (run course was a bit long). For a first race though I can't complain as I started on time and the fitness was there, it was just a bit rusty. I got a feeling it's going to be quite fun this season as I start to hit my stride in the races ahead.
Like a shot I'm off. Heart rate is already good and up and I'm off sprinting (as much as one can in 2-3 feet of water) down the shallower right side of the beach with the lead group. Soon though my arms become jello and I fall off the pace and, as usual, end up leading the chase pack. I don't realize this until the turn though because I can't see anything going straight into the sun. Another guy comes around from the outside though, and I jump on his feet for the remainder.
Transition is strength sapping with a fast run up the long, sandy beach. However, I fly through with a flying mount better, quicker and smoother than the vast majority of the ITU pros that raced the previous day. But this is the first race of the year, and I struggle to get in a groove on the bike. My power and cadence constantly surge too high from adrenalin and I end up averaging a wattage far below my goal. To make up for it though my turns are tight as I fly through the transition area at 20mph and stay down pedaling in aero for all but one S-junction and the U-turn for each of the four loops. Average was 23.8mph total which I was quite happy with considering the actual watts averaged. The one lap where I was able to hit my target watts I went 24.5mph, which isn't too far off the fastest guys at just a hair over 25mph.
Dismount from the bike is smooth and fast and though my legs are toast I hit my running stride immediately. From here I don't know what to expect so I keep it at threshold the whole way and only let one guy pass me. I'm off the pace here a bit as well though as the plan was for a 19 flat 5k and I come through that mark about 30 seconds back (run course was a bit long). For a first race though I can't complain as I started on time and the fitness was there, it was just a bit rusty. I got a feeling it's going to be quite fun this season as I start to hit my stride in the races ahead.
Photo Courtesy of Duncan Productions.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Ironman training has begun!
After my 3 month hiatus to replenish funds working in Tulsa I am now back in my favorite winter training destination of Clermont, Florida, to pick up where I left off and resume full-time training in preparation for my first Ironman in hot, humid Texas. I wish I could tell you all that work sucked and I couldn't wait to get done with it and move on, but the truth is... I loved it. I was surrounded by a great group of knowledgeable engineers that were a pleasure to work with and I got to learn a ton of really cool engineering stuff as well as relearn and finally understand a lot that I had forgotten in college. On top of that, I picked up latin dancing in the form of Salsa and Argentine Tango. Knowing myself as well as I do, that could be the next big thing I get really competitive with and go all in to.
Some things have changed over the winter. On one hour per day average training, I have gotten faster in the pool and on the bike. Quite significantly so. All of the rest I was getting finally caught up with me and has allowed my body to recover and lock in all the gains made from training hard full-time all last year. It was something I knew was possible but did not consider probable because of the mentality of more is always better that gets stuck into the head of an endurance athlete. The run is even not far off my peak and is something I know will come back even faster with the increased volume, as it always does every year.
Another thing that is new... Journey To Go Pro is now an officially registered Wyoming LLC! The business is currently funded through my engineering consulting work but may incorporate fitness and triathlon consulting as well on down the road. Also planning to give back and create a team at some point to sponsor whenever I find a few likeminded individuals who are doing something similar (crazy) and trying to make that jump from elite AG to pro (or regular AG to pro like me...), yet do not quite have the resources I have to make it work without help. Because of this, though I am personally still not accepting sponsors of any kind, I will soon be considering sponsors for this team whenever it starts to get off the ground.
Back to training, I am going very swim/bike heavy for the moment, as the race down in Texas will require some good swim speed to have a chance at getting away from the chaos before the first turn of the narrow mass start at Ironman Texas. The goals for improving swimming involve consistency, master's swims, and more power. The plan is to swim every day, even if it's just 30' easy, hard masters swims twice per week, and to continue to work on pulling harder and faster through the water to gain the strength needed for faster swimming.
Since I believe running off the bike at the level I am at is more about bike fitness and general endurance (along with nutrition) than run fitness, I will keep my run mileage relatively low until the summer months in Boulder where all those great running trails are, and really focus on the bike workouts here in Clermont. I am currently transitioning from the shorter intense threshold/interval focused workouts of winter to longer endurance/tempo focused workouts to gain the endurance I will need for Ironman.
That about wraps it up. Look for more posts soon, as I have time to write again.
Some things have changed over the winter. On one hour per day average training, I have gotten faster in the pool and on the bike. Quite significantly so. All of the rest I was getting finally caught up with me and has allowed my body to recover and lock in all the gains made from training hard full-time all last year. It was something I knew was possible but did not consider probable because of the mentality of more is always better that gets stuck into the head of an endurance athlete. The run is even not far off my peak and is something I know will come back even faster with the increased volume, as it always does every year.
Another thing that is new... Journey To Go Pro is now an officially registered Wyoming LLC! The business is currently funded through my engineering consulting work but may incorporate fitness and triathlon consulting as well on down the road. Also planning to give back and create a team at some point to sponsor whenever I find a few likeminded individuals who are doing something similar (crazy) and trying to make that jump from elite AG to pro (or regular AG to pro like me...), yet do not quite have the resources I have to make it work without help. Because of this, though I am personally still not accepting sponsors of any kind, I will soon be considering sponsors for this team whenever it starts to get off the ground.
Back to training, I am going very swim/bike heavy for the moment, as the race down in Texas will require some good swim speed to have a chance at getting away from the chaos before the first turn of the narrow mass start at Ironman Texas. The goals for improving swimming involve consistency, master's swims, and more power. The plan is to swim every day, even if it's just 30' easy, hard masters swims twice per week, and to continue to work on pulling harder and faster through the water to gain the strength needed for faster swimming.
Since I believe running off the bike at the level I am at is more about bike fitness and general endurance (along with nutrition) than run fitness, I will keep my run mileage relatively low until the summer months in Boulder where all those great running trails are, and really focus on the bike workouts here in Clermont. I am currently transitioning from the shorter intense threshold/interval focused workouts of winter to longer endurance/tempo focused workouts to gain the endurance I will need for Ironman.
That about wraps it up. Look for more posts soon, as I have time to write again.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Spin Classes
I see a lot of discussion about spin classes, so since I'm back to the grind of winter training with my new job I thought I'd share my top 10 tips on the subject
Hope these help! And as always feedback is always appreciated.
1. Keep yourself as cool as possible. Overheating just makes your heart work harder and will slow you down. Sweating more does not burn more calories. Amount of power produced over time determines how much energy is burned, and the hotter you get, the harder it will be too keep putting out a certain power output. Making your body work harder to cool itself is generally only a good idea when heat tolerance is desired (which should be done sparingly and close to race day).
2. Do not go too hard. Most spin classes I have done tell you to go at a specific intensity based on RPE that is generally way too hard. Proper triathlon training consists of riding at Endurance, Tempo, and Threshold. There are times for VO2 max work as well, but with a particular interest in increasing threshold power. Anaerobic and Neuromuscular should be done sparingly. However, these top three zones are typically where spin classes will try to have you working at if you listen to them.
3. Do not go too easy. Riding in Recovery is only acceptable after a hard/long interval. If you are fit and only have a short amount of time doing intervals that switch between Tempo and Endurance could be too easy for a short workout that is only done a few times per week. Longer intervals (10-20’) at Sweet Spot (right between Tempo and Threshold zones) are highly recommended.
4. Do not stand up. The only reason to stand up in a triathlon is if you are not strong enough to climb seated or if you need to stretch your legs on a long race. Because of the latter, I do practice standing for a minute or so occasionally at Ironman watts, but that is the extent.
5. Avoid ultra low cadences. These sessions are typically too easy and not effective at building specific strength. If you’re goal is to simulate climbing, keep your cadence up!
6. Avoid too much ultra high cadence. These sessions can be great for improving muscle efficiency specific to cycling and increase your comfortable cadence range which can help find your optimal cadence. However, it is likely that for most a very minimal amount of this training is necessary.
7. Do train with the opposite sex if possible. For males, at least, RPE goes down for the same power output when females are present. Always trying to impress…
8. Do go to cycling specific spin class. The classes bike shops offer where you bring your own bike and trainer are typically great. They usually keep you in the proper training zones and you are able to train in your exact aero position with correct hip angle. Over time, this can make a difference in ensuring fitness gains are made in the correct areas, particularly if your hip changes when riding a spin bike or road bike. There are a few roadies out there with good TT fits who see a drastic difference in their TT position power.
9. Do go early and stay late. Extra riding time in Endurance zone is always a good thing. STAY out of recovery!
10. Make sure you feel good after. If you feel trashed, you went too hard (I.E. too high intensity/wrong training zones). You should feel good immediately after, however, if you went hard enough, you WILL feel it in your legs an hour or two after. If you trained in the proper zones and still feel trashed, then you likely either need recovery or to build more fitness in easier workouts first. You should not be sore. Rarely ever, in endurance training, should you be sore from any workout. There are a FEW exceptions, but not many.
Hope these help! And as always feedback is always appreciated.
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