Today is a Great Day: GAME ON

It is always great when good things happen, isn't it? As much as life can suck sometimes, there are always beautiful people that do wonderful things that make every day worth it.

The photo is care of Brett, who I clued in on a Dean Karnazes talk near where he works. I asked Brett to get anything signed by him for me, and look what he did! It's Brett's copy of Dean's book, so I guess I owe Brett my copy. It made me cry when I saw this picture just a few minutes ago. Brett is good people in my book, and I am fortunate to have made his acquaintance.

You can like Dean or think he's nuts. I can relate to the man. He is doing something he loves "just because." OK, so maybe he's making a little money off of it by writing books now, but hey, being part of society sort of requires you make some cash, and if you can do it in the course of pursuing a passion, even better. If his body can tolerate that much running, great for him. If mine could, I would do it, but I know it can't, so I will stick with triathlon for now. I love reading books written by ultrarunners because I can relate to the many of them who have found that special solace that they reach when running. I am happy that I can experience that solace while swimming and biking, too, and while I'm stretching, and even while I am writing this right now.

I did a 3,600 yard swim workout this morning. My 300 times were off, but the 100's, 50's and 25's were pretty good. Check out this workout:
WU: 200 swim, 200 pull, 200 kick, 4 x 50 (10") Swim Golf
MS: 5 x 300 (20") negative split. 100 easy swim.
5 x 100 (10"), descend 1-5. 100 Easy.
6 x 50 (10"), descend 1-3, 4-6. 100 Easy.
4 x 25 sprint with 30 secs rest
CD: 100 easy swim

My lungs were acting up a little bit--some phlegm coming up when I didn't want it--and my stomach was still not normal. Last night I woke up at 10:30 (I had gone to sleep at 8:15--guess I was a little tired from my 2nd long run in 4 days) and my stomach was hurting. I guess chile for dinner was not such a good idea after having had a big bowl of pasta with marinara sauce at lunch (to recover from my run), although I finished it around 7:00PM, so it was odd that I was having a reaction. When I experience stomach issues, it usually means I'm under stress. HELLOOOOOO.... Anyway, I got out of bed and took a swig of Pepto Bismol, thinking that would calm things down. I got back in bed and my stomach began doing flip-flops. I tried to ignore it, but after laying there for about 10 minutes, I figured I was going to puke, so I got up, and well, I did. I guess the Pepto accomplished something, huh? Turns out there wasn't much in my stomach, but whatever was there came out in spectacular projectile fashion. Shit happens! I drank a big glass of water and was able to get back to sleep. When I smelled the coffee this morning, I got out of bed to pee and think about getting up, but it felt like someone had twisted up my brain and stomach and was in there with a vise grip on me. So I went back to bed, put a pillow over my head (to block out the rising sun), and tried to sleep some more. I think I dozed off for maybe 10', but then I figured, hey let's get up.

Coffee tasted good and didn't seem to have any additional effect on my stomach, but I took it easy on eating anything. I had planned on swimming, and checked my email and saw my coach had posted me up some workouts. So I go look for today's stuff, and happy, happy, 3,600 yards, let's go, baby! Since I got out of bed late, I wouldn't be able to stretch first since I'd need to be in the pool as quickly as possible so I could get the workout in before they shut down the lap lanes for the Aquacise class. I briefly considered swimming at lunchtime, since Rich didn't schedule a run for me today (but I may still do one later if I feel like it), but figured it would be less crowded this morning, and hey, I'm awake, so I may as well get it done.

Back to that swim workout. Despite my stomach and phlegm issues, I had absolutely no endurance issues, and why would I? 2 mile swims just don't really phase me anymore. I like knowing that the Ironman swim is only 600 more yards than what I swam today, so my endurance is all set. I guess a few years of averaging 9,000-11,000 yards a week will do that to a person :). As I was swimming the pitiful 300's, I was trying to figure out why I was so slow. The water was nice and cool today. My last workout was 24 hours ago. But I guess my legs were still a bit tired, and kicking takes a lot of oxygen and my lungs felt slightly compromised, so oh well. I did the last 2 300's with the pull buoy and that confirmed my tired legs hypothesis. Whatever. Mostly I am happy that the workout didn't feel like some killer thing to me. Well, I DID swim 3,300 on Monday, so what's 300 more yards anyway?

You know you are close to an Ironman race when:
- your Friday swim workout is >3,500 yards. Hell, I even see one on my schedule that isn't a race rehearsal swim of 4,400 yards. Woo-hoo!
- there is a note on a long bike workout that says "OK to shorten this if you like."
- you become concerned that you aren't keeping up with your calorie intake needs
- you cry when someone emails you a picture of a book (thanks, Brett)
- you cry when someone mails you a picture of Natasha Badmann (thanks, Shelley)
- you pretty much will cry about anything. OK, so all this crying is a girl thing, guys. What do men do this close to an Ironman? I am curious.
- you decide it's time to stop raising your hand at work for "extra projects."
- you learn to keep your mouth shut when someone punches your buttons because you know you could go off like a firecracker
- you know that the remaining training is going to start to feel like work, but that's as it should be. Riding very focused for 4+ hours at a time is work. Swimming 3,500 yards+ is work. Running for 2+ hours is work. Keeping up with all your bottles and laundry is work.

It's that time, kids. Time to get down to Ironman training. What I've been doing so far has been "getting ready to do this training I am starting now." Here come double long rides on the weekends, plenty of running and swimming. I am so excited about this build phase, because this is the most fit I have ever been in my life. Now I just need to keep up the good work I've been doing in addition to the workouts--stretching, mental work, nutrition, sleep, avoiding any stress that I can. I am reminded of the beginning of the song, The Sound of Silence, when I get to this point:

Hello darkness, my old friend,

I’ve come to talk with you again,

Because a vision softly creeping,

Left its seeds while I was sleeping,

And the vision that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound of silence.

After I finished swimming this morning, I saw a fit-looking woman getting ready for what I guessed was a spin class. So I struck up a conversation with her (I am naked at this point--as you all know I have no shame). I asked if she was heading to spin class, and she said yeah, that she had reserved her bike because the classes are so popular. I replied that I did my bike training on my own bike at home. She asked if I am a triathlete, commenting that she immediately figured I was at least a runner, probably a triathlete. I said yeah. She asked me what was my racing distance. I said Ironman. She said it figured from how lean and muscular I am. Then she said she bet it was hard for me to keep up with my calorie needs. I told her she is very wise! Turns out she has a Masters degree in exercise physiology. So we had a nice conversation. How nice to meet someone like that--I really hope I run into her again. Looks like a possibility now that I'll be doing 1:15-1:30 swim workouts on Fridays!

It snowed here last night, and won't be warm enough for me to get outside on my bike this weekend. But it's GAME ON now, and I've got work to do.

Updates, Musings, Training, you know the drill

My mom has multiple myeloma--the biggest problem is a tennis-ball sized tumor near her sacrum. She gets 9 days of radiation treatments, and the hope is that they will destroy this incarnation of the cancer and enable her to walk again. Then she moves to an assisted care facility for a few weeks. Then--who knows??? It's going to be one day at a time. The 5-year survival rate for this type of cancer is listed at 32%. My mom has been in bad shape for about 5 years, and this doesn't help any. But, it is what it is. My dad is doing the best he can to care for her. His best is not what I would consider THE best, but I believe it is not my place to meddle. I haven't understood my parents' relationship for the past 40 years, why would I understand it now?

It's funny how when these things happen you realize so fully that each of us ultimately goes through this thing called life alone--we can't be anything more than who we are to another human being. That makes life both beautiful and frustrating. It is beautiful when a person learns to be who they are unconditionally, and separates themselves from what they do, what they have, their physical body, their thoughts, etc. It's frustrating when either we aren't fully ourselves or when we are, when we interact with others who aren't. In some ways, the more I become who I am and less attached to other people, things, my body (we'll get to that later), my thoughts, the more I find it difficult, or maybe it's just fascinating, to deal with those are are much less so. I think that is the root of most failed relationships--people are at different levels of self-awareness. At least that is how I am currently experiencing things. I know it sounds very egotistical and conceited, but that is how it feels to me. The more I become aware of my own self, the more I want to take some people by the shoulders and shake them and tell them to wake the fuck up! But that is not the way to make it happen.

Now back to this physical body thing. I find myself somewhat conflicted in this quest for enlightenment, which includes (in some circles anyway) a move away from focus on the physical body. Yet when I look at myself, and I KNOW others look at me this way, it appears I am ALL ABOUT THE PHYSICAL. I guess I consider the care and use of my body to be the way in which I honor my own sacredness, if that makes sense. It brings out a passion in me that has guided me to this personal search for this Mind of Iron. My younger sister said she figured I would fall apart if I couldn't exercise. I listened to her say it, and wanted to lash out at her and say, "Well, what is YOUR excuse?" But I didn't. I just heard it and said that, yes, I would be saddened if I were unable to do ANYTHING, but that I planned to continue doing so until that eventuality. I hope it's because of death! I dunno--we are given this one vessel in which to house our brains, our spirits, our energy, and I just think it's a good thing to honor it. I've read about the running monks and such, and so I know there is precedent for being very physical yet very spiritual. And that is where I find myself right now.

I have to be honest, I am experiencing extra stress over my mother. Some of it is reconciling the unshakable reality that she is going to pass, and it could be soon. Some of it is me feeling selfishly how is this going to affect me? I have already been handed some guilt on a platter for proceeding with my travel and racing plans. Well until something happens that says I should not, I will keep going.

And that takes me back to my training. I hit things hard last week after feeling mostly recovered from my URI/cough thing. I still have the cough, but it is fading. I'm sure I sound horrible when I start choking while on the treadmill or hanging onto the pool wall, but too bad. I don't feel any shortness of breath or tightness in my lungs, and I sleep well and deeply.

This week I moved my long run to Thursday, i.e., TODAY. On Sunday I ran for 1:35, and I ran for 1:45 today. I forgot how tired that can make my legs. My legs really don't feel all that bad, mostly because I wisely cut my run short yesterday. But running 1:45 and then trying to stay awake at work is just not something I am good at.

I woke up about 5:20, had some coffee and a Power Bar, and managed to stretch for 13' before getting to the gym and ass on treadmill at 6:43. The first 30' of the run did not feel good--my stomach wasn't too happy to have to try and digest, but it will get used to it. I just can't do a workout on a totally empty stomach. While I was feeling this way, I used it as an opportunity to consider how "bad" did I really feel? My legs felt fine, my heart rate was fine. If I feel that "good" at Ironman Brazil on the run I will be just fine! After 30' easy, I started picking up the pace. My right piriformis is acting up a little bit (I think from my 6-day festival of running last Wednesday through this Monday and some intense bike workouts and a little extra stress), and I had a 1.5 hour massage Tuesday night and Wednesday it didn't feel bad when I ran--I was just tired, which was why I cut the run short yesterday. When I stretched this morning, I really focused on my iliopsoas, which is usually the culprit when my piriformis is acting up. I HATE that muscle! I now call it the sloppy muscle--look at an anatomy book to know what I mean. The thing is like this sloppy ropy thing that drapes down your back across your hip down to your groin, and I have no clue what is holding it in place aside from the origin and insertion points. It is the source of many people's back troubles, my own included.

Anyway, I didn't notice anything bad while I was running this morning, and after 1 hour I started drinking my Voodoo mix (1/2 Ultra Violence, 1/2 Gatorade), and that perked me up as expected, and my stomach felt fine, and I even enjoyed the remaining 45' of the run. I got in 20' at upper-steady and 15' at mod-hard, which was fine considering I just smashed a whole lot of training into not so many days (uh--coach knows about this sort of--I keep telling him to tell me what to do before I blow myself up!).

I stretched some more after the run and even got in 36' of abs/core work (in a semi-comatose state, I must say). So now I can head into the weekend with a nice 1 hour swim and 1 hour run tomorrow, and then oh joy, oh joy, TWO LONG RIDES THIS WEEKEND (one including a short brick run afterwards). I am waiting for guidance from my coach on the riding, but I will probably do (2) 2:30 trainer rides with lots of intensity, to get ready for Training Camp next week.

Yee-haw! I can't WAIT to get to South Carolina and meet up with Shelley again. It's been 5 years, both of us have gained tons of Ironman experience, it should be warm, and Brett may even come down to ride with us (of course, if he does, the Prime Directive will be to absolutely SHELL him). There will be plenty of Ultra Violence, beer, Cheetos, pasta and red meat consumed (when I get into the heavy training, I tend to crave big hunks of steak).

Shelley sent me a drawing of my idol, Natasha Badmann. She is lovingly hung on my bathroom mirror over my time goal sheet for Ironman Brazil. So every time I go in there I look at Natasha; then I look at my time goals, and I ask myself, "Am I doing everything I can today towards those goals?" So far has been so good. I don't think I could possibly do more. But now the push is on. I expect to be fatigued often. No problem. I have trained myself to go to sleep by 8:30PM now. So even as the sun comes up earlier and I will naturally wake up at 5AM, I can still get 8.5 hours a night, more on some days of the week. This is the part of the training cycle that I love. Literally all I am doing is eating to train, training, recovering and then that nasty little bit called work. I will do nothing that isn't necessary. Friends understand that I go underground until June. Exciting stuff! Bring it!

I WILL survive all of this.

Fashion Update

OK, so first off sometimes I call giving someone the general big picture, including any bits of gossip, a "fashion update" because it just sounds so much nicer than plain "news."

My mom is in a holding pattern. It's unclear now whether she definitely has cancer or not, but whatever it is, it's bad, and she needs copious amounts of pain medicine. In fact, yesterday, they had her so drugged up she didn't awaken, but that has been fixed today. She's once again alert and eating on her own. We thought the oncologist would have all the information assembled today; now that may or may not happen. I just want to know what the story is, you know? Until then, I am just taking things one day at a time.

In other news, I still have this damn cough. It's not bad, but it is annoying. But it is no longer preventing me from training. I pretty much hit it hard beginning last Thursday, and somehow managed to pull off 11.3 hours of training including almost 3 days of absolutely nothing. I shouldn't have run as much as I did in 5 days, but I did cut back my intensity somewhat. I was able to hit 98% of my FT watts for (2) 10' intervals on Saturday, so that was encouraging. I am going to go full-strength this week on training, and hope to bang out 15-16 hours. One day at a time.

Something that is very interesting about this time with my mom's health concerns is seeing my brothers and sisters assembled and it is just very painful for me to see how little regard for their own health they have. Youngest sister is probably 25 lbs. overweight and doesn't exercise enough. Thank goodness she gets an annual checkup, but at her rate she's headed for the typical lifestyle issues. And bonus she's very depressed. I help her whenever I can a little at a time. I gave her what she considered a "professional" quality upper back massage the last 2 days--I told her I picked up a lot from being a massage school guinea pig and being very observant during my own massages.

My older sister is probably 40 lbs. overweight, has knee problems (gee, I wonder why), yet she thinks she is in good health since she checks her blood sugar twice a week! Well, yes, at some point it will be out of whack from the excess weight and lack of exercise. She doesn't work, her husband makes tons of money, they own a spacious and beautiful home--I just don't get it. Her husband, on the other hand, is very paranoid about his own health after seeing his parents degenerate, and he is aware of genetic odds that he must face. He is quite thin and I believe he gets some degree of exercise.

The younger of my 2 brothers is maybe 20-25 lbs. overweight, has asthma, back problems, weakened lungs from pneumonia, but he maintains the best he can. He golfs a lot and tells me he does his back exercises, but still I think he could do better. Mike does take very good care of his family, though. His wife is obese, and they have a son who is autistic/bipolar that is also obese, which pisses me off since his mother didn't need to let him get that way, which just complicates any attempts for him to become integrated into society.

My remaining brother is 20-25 lbs. overweight, depressed, occasionally has a drinking problem, and I believe his blood pressure is high yet he won't seek treatment. He has a loving wife who is a nurse that I consider to be a saint!

Then there's me. My sisters agreed that my biggest problem (jokingly) is that I exercise too much. Thank you. I will take that problem any day. I suffer from occasional mild depression (don't we all), and hell yeah, I would enjoy the company of a male companion, but overall my life and health are quite good, despite a lack of cartilage in one knee and age-related disk degeneration in my back which for all I know is now gone. I don't have a spouse to lean on when I feel like slacking or getting all down on myself, and I certainly don't want the rest of my family to be concerned about my own health. Who knows what will eventually strike me down--but for the moment I intend to keep up what I'm doing and trying to be that good example to my siblings. If only one good thing rubs off on them, great!

The funny thing about all this is that my dad is in quite good health for his age. He tells me whenever he can about his workouts at the Y (I think he goes 4 times a week), especially on the stationary bike. And he lifts weights. And he's lost weight in the last year (all fat, from what I can tell), and he feels great, even though he's got 2 artificial knees. One of the things that seems to console him in this difficult time is talking with me about what he's up to at the gym. I didn't need to encourage him to keep going even as all this illness is circling around us. He knows that by being healthy that he has an edge on his mental health, and he knows from our conversations that I feel strongly the same way. Sure we will cry on one another's shoulders from time to time, but whatever happens, at the end of the day all we have is our health, and I am happy that my dad is making the effort to take care of his own.

My mom will be whatever will be. It's probably too late for her to have an impact on the rest of her life. It almost hurts me more to see my brothers and sisters doing so little for their own lives than perhaps the imminent end of our mom's.

I am being extra careful now with my own eating, since I am finding it hard to work up an appetite periodically. If I can't be strong for myself, how can I be strong for everyone else?

Every day, many times a day I get to make choices. I continue to choose health!