Things are Proceeding... As Usual

I've been seriously neglecting this blog lately - mostly because I don't want to sound like a broken record every time I race.

It's the last week of my taper for Ironman St. George.

Two weeks ago, I went through the panic. I'm not ready. I didn't train enough. I didn't train HARD enough. I don't know if I did the right things in my training. I didn't do enough nutrition training. I didn't train for the hot weather. I didn't train for the cold water. I didn't eat well during training. I didn't get enough sleep...

That's what happens during a pre-race panic attack. Every. Single. Time. And, as usual, it happened after a few bad workouts during my last build period.

The sad truth is that I've trained harder this year than last year. I did strength training. I was more consistent than ever in the pool, and my workouts were both harder and longer. And yet, in the last three weeks, my intervals are slower than ever. I rode more long rides and harder short rides this winter than last. But the last time I did a long ride, my power and speed hit a training low. And the one thing I pride myself on, my running speed, which I painstakingly fostered weekly on the treadmill during this whole buildup, is anything but fast and my legs now feel like jello.

And to top it all off, last week I got slammed with an upper respiratory infection that knocked me for a loop.

So, yes, I panicked.

And now I am trying to stay calm. Because there's nothing I can do. I can't cram in anymore training. The weather forecast for next Saturday in St. George is close to 100 degrees F. And my bike is already on it's way to Utah. I have to trust that I've done all I can, that I will make good decisions nutritionally and pace-wise on race day, and the weather is something I can't control. And let the chips fall where they may.

Neglect and Preparation Woes

I attempted to design a little wishful thinking
into my race helmet.

My apologies for neglecting this blog lately. There are so many things happening, I've not had time to sit down and write about any of it. And worst of all, I can't slow the progression of time. Here's a quickie update on things:

• I'm tapering for Ironman St. George. This involves the typical taper madness, feeling excessively sluggish and not at all rested. Hours of sleep are down, anxiety is sky-high and worries about not finishing are getting the best of me.
• My knees are hurting. Bad. It's my first time ever with knee problems. I'm trying not to think about it and saying a lot of prayers. This is also another first for me.
• I'm maxed out at work, working through lunches and taking extra hours of my own time because my employer, Cleveland Metroparks Zoo, is opening a huge world-class elephant exhibit - African Elephant Crossing - on Thursday, May 5. Don't get me wrong, the only regret is that the opening and my race accidentally (but inevitably) fell on the same weekend. Also next week, the Zoo will be launching a new technology initiative that I've been intimately involved with and working feverishly to finish up.

But, as I said, time marches on with no signs of slowing. My P3, nicknamed "Toothless," is already on its way to St. George with TriBike Transport. Unfortunately, because of (real) disaster recovery in Japan, my new Pearl Izumi team racing kit will not be in until mid-May so I'm going to have to dig up some old threads to race in. The weather in Cleveland has continued rain and cold and windy and I've not done much riding outside. And with seven days to go, I still haven't attempted to swim in my new Quintana Roo wetsuit.

But despite all the insecurities and falling behind in my race preparation, there are some positive things to report. The water temperature at Sand Hollow (IMSG swim site) is now 62 degrees F (up from 55 on April 21), and the weather forecast for St. George on May 7 is sunny and dry with a high in the mid 80s.

It's finally sunny and getting warmer today, so I'll be taking the beloved 2003 Cannondale Ironman 5K out for a spin on my final race simulation brick.

Tapering, Bike Speed, and Fashion Statements in Eight Days

And then the shark eats you (post race, 2009 Clearwater 70.3)

It's eight days to game day -- the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Clearwater, Florida. I'm betting everything on this race, and my hope is that if I don't go out in style, I better go out in flames. Because, if I can't have a success story, it better be a worthy disaster story. I'm hoping the former is true. This season is ready to be over (even if I'm not ready for it to be over).

I'm far from an expert on tapering for a half-ironman. It's the one race distance I rarely taper for because it's usually not an "A" race for me. Last year, I didn't take Clearwater seriously because I took a long non-swimming, non-biking vacation less than two months before the race. As a result, I didn't panic until the night before. There were two disasters that day: one was natural, the other was man-made.

The natural disaster was weather-related: high winds sent the swim into the harbor side of Clearwater and we were forced into a time-trial start with no warm-up. The man-made disaster was another one of my bathroom disasters during the run, most likely caused by lack of sleep (note the panic statement above). But, despite the lack of training and a so-so taper (I mean, can you really taper when you don't have much mileage to start with?), I still did my fastest half in seven years.

This year, I'm using my best judgment for taper mileage/yardage based on the three-week 75-50-25% rule that always works for marathons. And, I hate to say this out loud, but I have already made commitments to myself and there's at least one person (you know who you are) predicting outcomes, but I will not mention them here for fear of inviting the disaster gods to come down and thwack me good. All I will say is this: despite my attempts to sabotage myself in the water (i.e., swimming only two times a week), my swimming seems to have made some sort of breakthrough. With my luck, the reason for this is more likely that they've shortened my local pool.

I only have two things left to decide for race day: how fast to ride 56 miles and still have something left for the run and my all-important fashion statement.

I'll tackle the bike question first... Because it's cold in Cleveland at this time of year and Florida terrain is flat, I've been riding indoors and doing speed intervals (those max-effort things that you only read about) on my trainer for many weeks now. I'll know in eight days if my efforts pay off with increased speed in Clearwater. Last year, my bike time wasn't even in the top half for women even though it was my fastest 56-mile ride EVER. The thing I'm struggling with is how hard or fast to go out. The Clearwater bike course is as flat as can be, but I want to have something left in my quads for the run, because, despite also being very flat, the run course has four short bridge-hills. After you've torn up your quads on a fast bike course, this can be deadly.

I'd like to say my plan is to ride fast but relaxed and try to push the second 28 miles in hopes that many athletes make the mistake of pushing too hard the first 28. Could this be the one time I succeed in a race plan?

The second decision... what to wear... and it's not really about fashion, it's more about what will be most comfortable and fast during the race. I just bought a new TYR race top -- do I really want to debut it in my most important race of the year? I also need to decide which wetsuit to wear. Now that I have a new Quintana Roo wetsuit, it seems like a no-brainer because it has that breakaway zipper. But there's a reason I wear my old wetsuit, the two-piece DeSoto T1 -- it's FAST. I bought it because it doesn't bind my shoulders and it has very little drag. However, I always wonder if I cancel out the time I gained in the water with the time it takes to get it off. Thank heavens for wetsuit peelers. If I do wear the T1, I just hope they don't send me on a wild goose chase this year to retrieve the top.

One fashion statement decision has been made. If, by some miracle, I make it to the age-group podium, I will be wearing my Punk Rock Racing tri shirt. That's a sure thing. Stay tuned...

Marathon Decision-Making and Running Underwater

Detroit's "Underwater Mile" is International

After the Columbus Marathon registration disaster, I thought long and hard on two questions:

1. Which marathon should I run on October 17, Detroit or Toronto?
2. Was the Columbus Marathon rejection a message from God that I should not run a marathon this fall?

The answers to these questions were more questions:

1. Which marathon is better, Detroit or Toronto?
2. Why would God have any power over my OCD running behavior?

I had to come up with answers:

1. Detroit was better for four reasons: it's closer than Toronto, one of my good friends is running her first marathon there, a well-respected running friend (Tim Budic) convinced me it was just as good as Columbus without the stress, and the kicker: it's got an "underwater mile" (surely, that's reason in and of itself to do it).
2. I am the Disaster Magnet and I'm running a marathon whether God wants me to or not.

Now comes the biggest question: with a marathon less than two weeks away and my goal race, the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Clearwater, less than six weeks away, how should I taper? Will the taper screw up my half-ironman plans? I gave it some long hard thought.

I looked in my past for evidence of good race performances without much recovery between races. In 2008, I raced two half-ironman triathlons separated by eight days. The second one was not only harder, but I did it faster. And, not just faster, but five minutes faster on the run. In 2000, I ran two marathons five weeks apart. The second one was faster. Only a minute faster, but they were the third (2:50) and second (2:49) fastest marathons of my life.

Knowing that I only have to run 13.1 miles in the half-ironman, I've convinced myself that doing a hard marathon four weeks before will not sacrifice that, my most important race of the year. In fact, I hope that all the marathon training will do just the opposite and give me the boost I need to tear up the run course in Clearwater.

Because of my late decision to race, my taper won't be a full three-week affair that I usually afford my marathons. But then again, my running mileage is hardly where it was when I was just a marathoner. I guess it's an experiment, really. I've been running hard and long mileage but in only three or four sessions per week. Therefore, if I think about it, my "running" recovery is done in the water and on the bike, even though I put in up to ten hours weekly in those sports, including hard training.

Thus, my marathon taper will only be this week and next week and will mostly involve dropping my running mileage, but not intensity. I plan to continue to swim hard throughout the taper and probably drop my bike mileage around the middle of next week just to rest my legs. Three or four days of good rest will probably be all I can mentally handle anyway. I suspect I'll be bouncing off the walls by the end of next week.

Then I'll work on race strategy and pacing next week with all that extra time and energy. But I may still have to cut down on my daily Starbucks.

Uncomfortably Numb

There are eleven days to Ironman. I have two race simulation workouts left. I should have done one today, but the J-Team stayed out too late learning all about wine, so today has been declared a day off.

But now I'm dealing with the most uncomfortable thing about the Ironman taper -- the sluggishness and lethargy. Sitting in front of the TV, my legs feel like two balloons. What causes it? How does cutting back to 50% of my training make me feel like I've gained 50 pounds of water weight? No matter how many times I experience it, it's still disorienting and panic-inducing. It's hard to do nothing when you're used to training an average of 2-3 hours per day. During a taper, all sorts of things start to creep in:

• Depression, anxiety -- for many of us, training is the "drug" -- it's how we self-medicate for daily stress, but nothing is more stressful than a big important race looming on the horizon
• The so-called "phantom" pains -- strange pains just pop out of nowhere in places that never hurt before
• Heavy legs -- this could be a real effect of holding onto water and carbs or it could be the effect of drinking too much wine last night (there's no way to be completely sure but I'm going with the former)
• Sleep issues -- the body isn't working as hard, so it has much more energy and not as tired as usual

Here's where athletes sometimes make mistakes. I made the "big one" before the Philadelphia Marathon in November 2008. With all the extra energy and no long run, I spent the weekend before the race cleaning the walls of and painting my kitchen. Who knew painting was such a strenuous activity? I woke up the next day with severe hip pain that translated into an excruciating last ten miles of the marathon. Lesson learned. When they say "don't use the extra energy during your taper to do spring cleaning," that INCLUDES housework of any sort (except, perhaps, sitting down and folding laundry).

The other mistakes I don't want to make this time is gaining or losing weight. It's quite easy to gain weight during a taper when you're used to eating huge amounts of food to keep up with the huge amount of calories you're burning. But losing weight is something I never thought about until I dropped more than five pounds in two weeks going into the 1999 Cleveland Marathon. I still don't know how it happened, but it resulted in my starting the race in such a state of fatigue that I had to drop out of at mile 15.

But, to get away from the usual Disaster Magnet-type thinking (i.e., negative), there are things I plan to keep in mind during my taper: reduce mileage while keeping the intensity up, drink more water daily to hydrate well and keep my appetite in check, practice relaxation techniques, and get more sleep.

And maybe, think positively.

(For anyone struggling with the same taper doldrums, try putting your mind at ease with this article: Marathon Taper Traps)

Countdown

There are 15 days and three hard workouts left, and I'm currently trying to keep the fear at bay. The questions started this week with my taper. It was over 90 degrees every day and yet, when I ran/bike/swam, I was running/biking/swimming faster than I have all season. This isn't something that usually happens during a taper.

During a taper, I usually feel worse before I feel better. Heavy legs and lethargy are the rule. This time, the lethargy is there, but the speed is also there. It doesn't make sense. Taking one rest day shouldn't translate into "fastest times of the season" during my training sessions, and yet, that seems to be what's happening. I don't know whether to panic that I've tapered too soon or feel good that my taper is "working."

This season I've been using a training plan and workout suggestions from two sources: the book "Going Long" by Joe Friel & Gordon Byrn and an Ironman Training plan from Ben Greenfield through the Training Peaks website. I worked up a program to specifically address my major personal limiters: bike speed and muscular endurance. I mostly customized training suggestions from Joe Friel's book and threw in hard run workouts from Greenfield because they were similar to what I've successfully done in the past when marathon training. I worked through the confusion of how many long (80-100 mile) rides and (20+ mile) runs to complete -- Friel doesn't give any numbers, and Greenfield has only one century ride and one really long run (not even 20 miles). I also reasoned through my mental inability to do hard intervals daily as suggested in Greenfield's plan. Sometimes, I just threw in a mental break and did an LSD (long slow distance) workout midweek to alleviate other mental stresses (such as work). As my doctor would say, I self-medicate by running, and this year, I often needed to remind myself that endurance training is still fun. I hope this does not sacrifice my performance in Lake Placid.

So now, as I said in a previous blog, my biggest concern is how to taper. The two training plans are radically different in their tapers. Friel suggests a three week taper ("peak") with four race-simulation bike-run workouts -- with mostly recovery and rest in between. Greenfield suggests many short but hard interval sessions similar to the weekly structure of his training plan. I decided to go with Friel's plan because, with my lack of races this year, it makes more sense to practice race-simulations, and I selfishly wanted more rest because last week I was mentally and physically spent.

However, now I'm experiencing quite a different feeling. The key in the next two weeks will be to keep a lid on the stress and stay positive about all the work I've done. As my husband says, "focus on racing smart and just do what you have to do, and the rest will fall into place." Hmm.. it makes sense. Even the Disaster Magnet can understand rational thought once in a while.

The Taper's the Thing

After 27 weeks of hard training, it all comes down to two things: the taper and race-day execution. It's a lot of pressure to put into a three-week period, but ironically, the taper is all about reducing the pressure, both physically and mentally.

Thus, here I am, starting the three week taper to Ironman Lake Placid. I have a lot of questions - questions I probably shouldn't be asking at this point. But, as the Disaster Magnet, I am riddled with them. Did I train hard enough? Did I do enough long runs? long rides? Could I have added another weekly workout to my swim training? Did I do enough race-simulation bricks? Should I have added a second weekly long ride? Am I mentally prepared for this? I don't know if I'm the only one who goes through this, but as a self-trained endurance athlete, I always question whether I've done enough or done it right. If I had a coach, I might be asking the same questions, but I guess someone would be there to answer them.

So, yeah, here I am, starting the three week taper to Ironman Lake Placid. I did my last really intense workout yesterday. A hard 3.5 hour bike ride with hills followed by 1.5 hours of running. It was a good workout and it should have given me confidence. I practiced race-day fueling and learned a few more things -- such as, it's easy to recover from not eating enough on the bike, and, if it's hot, I should back off on eating during the run. More things to pack into my brain for race day.

But, then again, I'm getting ahead of myself... I'm STARTING the three week taper blah blah blah. I should be right about at the breaking point. Am I? My body is wasted. My mind is frazzled. Last week, I dreaded every workout. Sounds about right. All I need to do now is reduce the volume, keep the intensity, and maintain focus. Easier said than done. How much should I reduce? What's the right intensity? What if I do too much and I'm tired on race morning?

Wait.. wait! I'm STARTING the THREE WEEK taper.... Day 1: rest. recover. relax. get a grip. I've successfully executed a taper before. Many times. I know what I'm doing.

Knowing When to Rest

The hardest thing for me at taper time is knowing how little or how much to train. You hear it all the time: any training you do in the last 10-14 days before your event will not help (and may hurt if you overdo it). Yes, it's true, you cannot "cram" for an endurance event. But, you also cannot take 10-14 days off. Right? Seems contradictory.

If nothing done in the final 10 days will help, and you can't go cold-turkey on training, then what's an endurance athlete to do? This is where experience seems to matter most. There is no perfect race without a perfect taper. I suppose the perfect physical taper maintains your already-peak fitness level while letting your muscles rest and rebuild after the months of breakdown. Experts also say that resting your body by training slow is not the answer -- that just teaches you to race slowly. Thus, this is where I would hope that my live-and-learn experiences come in handy, but my data is mostly limited to two sports, running and swimming. And separately -- not as a single event.

Let's gather the data. In running, the taper method that seems to work best for me is to maintain intensity and reduce mileage drastically in the final two weeks. In swimming... well, let's just say that swim coaches don't believe in tapers. I've been known to have my fastest races after my longest, hardest "warm-up" (in swim coach terms, this special type of warm-up is called: "let's have a 2-hour practice before the meet."). And finally, I've never done a bike race, so I have no taper experience there.

Thus, to avoid a taper disaster, I've decided to read, read, read, attempt to apply other people's knowledge fused with my own, and then listen to my body. And, after my final really "hard" workout yesterday, my body says to rest. Why? Because I'm tired. Will it work? I have no idea. But I KNOW it can't hurt. Another data point.

The wildcard of the taper is the mental part. My mind never handles tapering well. I second guess. I second guess my training. I second guess my nutrition. I second guess my taper. The best I can hope for is that my relaxation techniques will still work. I think I'll go practice that now. And, just in case, I'll pray for disaster relief.