A Triathlete's Manifesto: CAN!

"To give anything less than your best is to sacrifice the gift." - Steve Prefontaine

Fight Cancer

Beat Cancer

Last One Picked In Gym Class

To Let My Children Know That Anything Is Possible

The T-Shirt

Challenge Myself

There are thousands of athletes that train for triathlons every year. Everyone has something that motivates them. I have heard every reason why people dedicate so much time to go out there on a weekend, spend your heard earned dough, and beat the hell out of yourself for a few hours. 

Lately, I have been getting a lot of questions asked by people—especially family—why I do what I do. 

Do I have something to prove?  Nope. I ran Rev3 Full last year. I know I am capable of doing the mileage. 

So, why the hell do I subject myself to a part-time job that I will never get paid for? 

Those of us who do it, understand why. It is not really a choice. 

It is a lifestyle. 

Like the "choice" to become a composer. It was not really a choice. I had an involuntary urge to want to be accompanied by music all the time. It was not that I "chose" to be a composer, but rather, it chose me. I can never stop thinking about music—it is in my head all the time. I write daily, I play daily. I write music because it is my passion and I have to do it. Whatever it is I do, I want to do it an an exceptionally high level. I think that is one thing I have noticed about triathletes. I have not met too many athletes who race triathlon that are complete slackers outside of that world. Everyone I  know are incredibly hard-working human beings who work hard in every aspect of their lives—whether it is parenting, their careers, scholarship, academics, or their athletic endeavors. I have noticed that triathlon does have a tendency to attract people who are incredibly goal-oriented. That is a good thing, right? Even when I was tending bar in college, I asked myself "what can I do to maximize my tips?" No, Kelly, I did not take off my shirt. Despite what you think, I have worn a shirt more this summer than I have been without one.

There are few things I dislike more than people who say things like "...I just don't have the time," "...we can't do that. It's not possible." 

I have never understood—nor will I ever—understand the notion that something is not possible. How is THAT possible?!

I have worked with people who have given me this line. I would rather work with people who try to find ways to do the seemingly impossible rather than resign themselves to some imaginary notion that they can not do something. 

I see people overcome enormous obstacles everyday. Forget about triathlon. I look at heroic people—ordinary people—with live with physical disabilities, chronic pain, even terminal illnesses—who do not resign themselves to limitations imposed upon them by the words of others, or by their own bodies. Those who live with these "limitations" somehow muster up the courage to summon superhuman will—not allowing their brain to listen when the body says "quit, now," "you're tired," "you can't do this." These people are fighters. They are winners. They are inspiration for me. I think of the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt. If you don't know their story yet, I dare you to watch this video without getting choked up. 

Why do I train? For me, I get little satisfaction out of the physicality of the sport. I mean, I don't wake up in the morning and say "Alright! I am super-psyched about my one hour open water swim and 45-minute training run today!" Okay, I do like to be out there hitting it hard, and I do love the feeling that I have after accomplishing a ride/run/swim, but to me, the more attractive part of triathlon is the mental component. Anyone who puts in the time to train can run a successful triathlon at any distance. By "successful" here, I mean that they can finish. Qualifying for Kona is not an option unless you are genetically predisposed, work your ass off, and, alas, MAKE TIME!

When friends say they don't have time to a man with five children, a full-time job, and a ton of projects constantly on the burner, I feel like I should have a free pass to just punch them in the face. For the record, my wife feels this way too. However, I am not a violent man, and the passive-aggresive route is so transparent to anyone with a brain. But, I do ask, "Is it that you don't have time, or you are just not interested in making time for that?" I have friends that are casual runners. Some even will run the occasional half marathon. One of my friends gets out to run two days a week—once during the week, and one "long" run on the weekend.  I always wonder (aloud), why don't you do more running during the week?

"I don't have the time to train."  

Let me translate what that really means: I am NOT motivated/interested in improving my run. I am okay with being mediocre. There are other things in my life that are more important to me. 

OKAY—I get that!  But, don't say you do not have time to train. I have gone for runs this season at 5:30 in the morning and 11 p.m. at night. I fit it where I can. I also do not run merely to train. I run for my sanity. If I don't run, I become a very irritable person. I need it to help clear the cobwebs, and to escape from the sometimes harsh and brutal realities of la vie quotidienne. 

So, back to the mental part. That is the most difficult. Finding the will. You know, there are days that I just DO NOT want to go outside, I do not want to do it. This has been especially true the last couple of weeks in western New York as temperatures have consistently been in the low-90's, and the humidity can only be described as "brutal." I feel for my blogger buddies like Jeff and Anne who remind me that they live in that weather eleven and a half months out of the year. In the end, I know that if I don't go outside and start training that I am going to feel worse for it later. I am going to be grumpy, tired, lethargic, and filled with guilt (I getter over the guilt thing pretty quickly though, I must say). 

TRAINING: I am currently in the middle of a build week. Everything has been going pretty well. I am biking and swimming where I think I should be. My runs have seemed a bit flat this week, but it could be because of the unbelievably oppressive heat and humidity (I'm blushing Jeff). The asphalt was well over a hundred degrees on my 45 minute run the other day. When I was done, it felt like I ran through a sprinkler. 

I have a monster 6-hour ride this weekend. Yikes. I am going to try to hit a very hilly course. I will probably post the course here when I am done. If I am still alive. 

More soon. Train Smart!

Bustling, Bullfights, Beer And The Friday Top Five

First, let me apologize to all of my animal loving friends and bullfighters for this frightful picture. It has absolutely nothing to do with this post. Well, almost nothing. 


The past week has been pretty awesome as far as training goes. After my marathon interview last Thursday, I felt like I had the weight of the world off my shoulders. 


I started up again on Saturday morning with mile repeats:


15 minute warmup followed by:


4x1 mile repeats with 3:00 minutes rest in between. I finished up in zone 2. 
My repeats were a good minute slower than wereI ended at the end of last season (8:00, 7:54, 7:48, and 7:42). Of course, I had not started my  mile repeats until later in the season, so I am hoping that will benefit me as well. 


Sunday:  45 minute bike in zone 2-3 at 90 RPM


Monday: 3000 yards in the pool with a 1500 yard straight main set followed by a half hour of functional strength.


Tuesday: 45 minute tempo run/60 minute bike


Wednesday: Same swim as Monday. Felt more awesome today than Monday. 


Thursday: Was SUPPOSE to do a 60 minute run, but my body completely rebelled. I ended up doing 20 minutes and shut it down. It just was not there. I think I know why my run suffered today. First, I did not have a great eating day. All I ate all day was some seven seed bread that I picked up in the morning before getting to my office. Not enough fuel. Secondly, I did not drink enough during the day... as in zero, zilch, nada. Why? Because I am an idiot. Yup. 


Friday: Was SUPPOSE to do my Thursday bike. Got home late and put time in the bank instead. It will pay greater dividends in the end. Of course, Ironman does not care that I could not get to my mid-week bike. 


Saturday: I ran the Johnny's Runnin' On The Green. This is the local St. Patty's week race  in which you have everyone from kick-ass competitive runners to guys and gals dressed up in all sorts of leprechaun-esque accoutrement with shamrocks on their heads. Usually, they are taking a break from drinking Guinness at 10:30 in the morning to go for a five mile scamper through downtown Rochester. I had a whole bunch of college coeds pass me early on who I saw grabbing the sides of their stomachs and puking about a mile and a half into their run.


Here are the numbers:


38:53 (7:47 M)
AG: 35/105 
Overall 358/1655
38:53 (7:47 M)

The race was okay, but I never really felt like I got in a good groove. I think I may have started out slightly too fast and just not got in a good running rhythm. I looked down on my watch after the first mile and saw that I was running 7:20's. I did not think I was going to be able to keep this pace up at this point in the season and I was right. I even tried slowing down so that I would be running an 8:00 M pace for a quarter mile, but it felt like I was walking. 

Speaking of walking—what the hell is up with walker guy people passing me as I am running? There was this older cat running, er walking like he was in the finals for Olympic speed-walking. How does walker guy pass me? Seriously. I was pissed. With about a quarter mile left I just said to myself "Oh no you didn't," and passed him. 

Sunday: 1:15 trainer ride. (It was suppose to be 1:30). I did 60 minute in zone 2 and 15 minute in zone 3. Then I ate a pound of my wife's lasagna. 


Today (Monday): I had a physical this morning. You know, that yearly thing you have to do. I learned two things: 

1)My resting heart rate is 47

2) Apparently I have a healthy prostate. I know this, well... I think it does not need to be said. There is something SO wrong about that. At least buy me a couple of drinks first doc. Followed it up with a totally kick-ass swim workout:


6x100 F
100 K
200 Pull with paddles and buoy 
10x25 HARD
8x25 K hard with fins
10x25 HARD
2x400 Pull
4x100 Kick with fins


I managed to get this done in 57:00 minutes. We all know I am not blazing fast in the water. However, I think I have seen some steady improvement despite the fact that I am only swimming twice a week right now. I am not sure if Coach Mary will ramp up the yards (I pray not), or add another swim workout during the week, but I am digging my workouts once they get under way.


The Friday Top Five: The five funniest things my kids said/did this week:

#5:  Upon finishing the fourth Harry Potter book, Luca came downstairs and said "Mom, just so you know, I never want to go to boarding school."


#4: Julian, Luca, wifey and I were all playing the game Catch Phrase this weekend. Have you ever played Catch Phrase with a seven and nine year old? You pass around a round "clicker"  that magnifies a word that you want your teammate to say. I dig playing it with the kids because it gets them to describe things using other words. They are usually pretty simple words or compound words like "astronaut," or "black eye," or "London." Sometimes wifey and I are really surprised at the the language they use. For instance. Julian gets his clue and says:


"Stella's favorite color is..." Wifey says "green." Then Julian says, "right, and we live in a...?" Wifey says "house." To which Julian replies "and put them together..." "Greenhouse!"


Love it!


Anyway, the teams were Luca and Dad against Mom and Julian. Julian begins by explaining a word, saying, "Okay... you and daddy drink this beer. It is like... a color and then a thing that you turn on"  Wifey and I look at each other with puzzled looks on our face. What the hell is this kid talking about. Time expires and he give the clicker to wifey and says "Blue light! You know how you and daddy are always drinking that blue beer." 


Okay, that is funny enough. First of all, we don't drink anything with the word 'lite' in front of it. I usually drink stout, or a porter, and wifey like a good hefe-weizen.  


The best part was after going back to look at the word....


"Bull Fight" Wifey and I were rolling on the floor laughing. 


He did not read it that carefully apparently. 


#3: After coming home one day last week, Amalia came up to me and gave me a hug and a kiss and said "Ahhh... I'm in love!"


#2: Luca and I were sitting around the dinner table one night discussing Harry Potter when Stella says "Daddy, I read all the Harry Potter books too."  "You did Stella? When did you read them?" Stella replies, "Well, not yet, but I am going to read them all when I am older. I will read them to my little sister."   Stella is the youngest of five. I can assure you, there are no more on the way. Perhaps, ever. 

#1: This is by FAR the funniest thing I think ANY of my children have ever said to me. I was building the Lego X-Wing Fighter with my son Julian. He was having a little trouble with part of the directions. So, I said "Julian, can I help you with that? I don't think you are putting that together properly." Julian looks at me and says "No, dad. What? Do you think you have a Ph.D. in Legos or something?"


Okay, March is upon us which means the NCAA tournament is almost underway. I shall be posting my official pics, as I feel it important to absolutely humiliate myself. Last year, my son Julian picked all the teams by the Mascots names and colors of their uniforms and had a much better bracket than me. He had Butler winning it all, and they almost did!  My wife also chooses the teams by mascot names. She usually asks something like, "Who's playing, Bears and Gophers? C'mon, the bears are going to eat those things. I'll pick the bears." 


Okay,  more soon. Happy Training!

The Confessions

Shortly after handing the no television punishment until the guilty water-in-the-soap culprit has been identified, my son Julian was the first one to confess his guilt. Julian confessed in his quiet, meek voice (not his usual voice immodulation disorder voice). For some reason, all of our children suffer from what my wife and I have determined to be temporary hearing loss. We have come to this conclusion because all of our children have at some point stood less than three feet away from us while speaking in a manner that resembles a PA system. Seriously, what is up with our children? Is their self-awareness so poor that they do not understand that they are shouting at us from across a table at dinner? But I digress.

The conversation went down like this:

Julian: "Mommy... I did it. I put the water in the soap."

Mommy: "You did? When did you do it?"

Julian: "Um..... sometime, like a couple of weeks ago."

Mommy: "No Julian, this was more recently. This must have happened in the last couple of days."

Julian: "Well, I don't know. I think... um.... maybe... it was like a couple of days ago."

Mommy: "Uh-huh."

Then it was Janina's turn to confess—followed by Luca—who literally said that he did it sometime "last year." It did not take us more than five seconds to realize what was going on. Our kids will confess to grand larceny if it means having their coveted television time back. We never found out who did it... but I have a sneaking suspicion it may have been Thing 1 or Thing 2.

Christmas morning was great fun. The bambini were up at the butt crack of dawn. This is not unusual. Wifey always makes fun of the fact that I do not know how—or do not care to take the time—to wrap Christmas presents. So, I always like to exaggerate the fact that I can not wrap a present to save my life. I get a bit campy with the high school-esque adoration. Can any men really wrap presents? I have not met one yet. Rumor has it that one lives in a forest with elves among the unicorns and dragons.

My Russian children. 

Julian deciding to have some of my vino on his birthday. (Christmas Eve)

Training: 

SWIMMING: I can not believe I am saying this, but I am still very much enjoying the swimming.  Maybe when I am about a month and a half out from my first HIM in June, I will reconsider my feelings toward swimming, but right now, it has been my favorite workout. In fact, Coach Mary gave me a long swim workout that I was not suppose to get done in an hour, but I managed to just make it in 59:58!  I can not wait to see what she throws my way this week.


RUNNING: I had a great endurance run yesterday. It was the first time I ran outside in weeks. Coach Mary had me run 45 minutes (Merry Christmas) in zone 2. The weather yesterday was a balmy 21 degrees. When I got out initially, I was a bit cold. I wore tights, my Rev3 Cedar Point Finisher shirt as my base layer and a cold weather shirt. In about five minutes, I was nice and comfortable. The cold weather helped keep my heart rate down as well.
I get to go out New Years Day and run a 7.5 miler—as fast as I can. So, New Years Race Report to follow soon. I am a bit nervous about doing a race since I have been doing nothing more than zone 2 training the last couple of weeks. Heck, who am I kidding? It will be great fun to motor.

BIKING: The thing with biking during the winter, is that I have to get on my bike in the basement and be bored to tears. Honestly, I would rather look at the black line on the bottom of a pool then sit on a trainer for an hour. So, I have been downloading movies to keep me from clock-watching. So far, I have watched the first two Harry Potter movies while on the trainer with the boys. I have another week of base work until the real joy starts. Coach Mary said not to worry about these little zone 2 rides, because she will have me "puking over my front tire in no time." Ah, it is that kind of sadistic personality that I find especially heart warming in my coach this time of year!

More soon. Train Smart!

T Minus Seven Days

I believe it was Ben Franklin who once said "Beer is living proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." As the holidaze slowly approach, I like to head over to my favorite fifteen thousand square foot food, er beer market, and stock up on a couple of—what I like to refer to as—"family tolerators." Now, don't get me wrong, these divinely inspired beverages are as much for my extended family to put up with me, as they are for me to appreciate the unique personality quirks that make the holidaze so joyful.  Purchased this evening:

1) One case of Lion's Stout. If you like stout, this is the quintessential malty stout for you. Okay, listen all you beer aficionados out there ready to jump and declare my ignorance for what I call the loveliest stout known to mankind, save it!  This just happens to be my opinion on this matter. Of course, in the self-titled autobiography by Charles Barkely (edited by Michael Wilbon), "I May Be Wrong, but I Doubt It."

2) One six pack of Sierra Nevada Kellerweis. It is wifey's current favorite beer.

3) One four-pack of Sam Smith's Winter Welcome for my brother-in-law for Christmas. He is a big fan.

Well, amidst all of the chaos, I am managing to stay relatively sane. I have been consistent about getting in workouts, albeit none of them very intense, or extensive. The longest run I have been on since Ironman is an 8-miler. Of course, that is all going to change December 1st, as I set my course for Ironman once again. Along the way, I plan on racing a lot more this summer. I plan on doing a lot of  5 and 10k's to get use to racing. Here I am with my friend Ryan at 6:30 a.m. Saturday morning. It was cold and dark outside. How macho are we? Well, as macho as anyone can look with tights on I suppose who is NOT Superman. I still have not been able to shake the ickiness all the way. I have woken up the last week with a scratchy throat and some funkiness. Nothing is worse than not having the energy that you think should be there. Perhaps I am actually getting older and require more rest?!! I shudder to think that my body now requires more rest. I thought that I was fairly invincible. Clearly, the one thing that has dramatically changed for me this year is my new professorship position. My new position requires me driving an hour to work five days a week. So, I lose  ten hours a week in a car. Not good. From a physical perspective, driving leaves me tired, because I drive on the thruway, and I have to be alert all the time. But, for me, driving is more draining from a psychological perspective. After being in a car for an hour on the way home, I really have to talk myself into going out for a run. I think the only way to real combat this is two-fold:

a) move closer

b) workout in the morning

(A) is not an option right now. The children are in school and committed to summer activities already.
(B) is the only viable option. Ugh!  I HAVE to do this. I have to do this. I have to do this. I have to do this! I just need to get my butt in bed at a reasonable hour. Hopefully, I will have the winter break to readjust completely to "Ironman Clock." I also have not been stretching enough. I am back doing some serious weight training—especially legs—and need to keep my hamstrings and quads stretched, so I do not feel like the Tinman.

I am going to run a race Thanksgiving morning. It is an annual 10k. I just feel bad because I am not as prepared to really "compete" as I would like. However, when I brought my self deprecating talk to my friend Alexa, she quickly reminded me that Thanksgiving Day races are for the purpose of eating guilt-free the rest of the day, not to PR. Ah, how I love friends who have the ability to put everything into perspective for me.

One recent development for me that I am very excited about—other than having an amazing coach this season!!!—is that I can not fudge any workouts. I need to be able to account for all my training, so my coach can figure out why I am the slowest human being they have ever coached and why I seldom make any strides. Okay, there I go being self-deprecating again. Seriously, the best part about having a coach is that I will not have to do ANY of the thinking. The data to the left is from my Saturday morning run with Ryan. He was racing the next morning, so it was good that he went out with me to
pace him. I think I am now addicted to data. How cool is it to see all your splits? I have noticed that I always start feeling good right around mile seven of my run. What does this mean? Should I only race longer distances? Should I warm up for a couple of miles before I run a 10k? Enquiring minds want to know!

OTHER DEVELOPMENT: I am reading the first Harry Potter book with my son Luca. I don't what prompted me to pick up the book and want to start reading it with him, but I we are on chapter seven, and I find myself trying very hard not to pick it up and read it without him. All my friends who have read it told me how wonderful the series is, but I guess I just did not have the motivation to pick it up and start reading. Glad I did.

Good luck to everyone running Thursday. Have a Happy Thanksgiving!

More soon! Train Smart!

Therapy, The Zen of Red Wine, and Dehydration

It has been hot this week. Real hot. Dangerously hot. Hard-to-train-with-this-heat hot! Don't get me wrong, I love the heat. Thank goodness, because it has been in the nineties and at least 50% humidity all week. I think my body is still recovering from the last couple of weeks of stress. I can feel it in my training, my mental state, my motivation, my stress level.

At times like this, I always like to remind myself that no two people are hard-wired exactly the same. I am constantly reminded of this in my daily life. Sometimes, it is in the form of witty t-shirts like:

There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those that understand binary, and those who do not. 

Sometimes, I am reminded in the form of age-old adages like:

There are two kind of people in the world: those that think there are two kinds of people in the world, and those who do not. 

My father would sometimes remind me that not everyone appreciates Picasso; not everyone understands contemporary music, (heck, I knew that one,) not everyone like pasta (which I think is just downright ludicrous!)  I remember, one time, I was having a conversation with my father about wine. Since my father imbibed in a decent glass of red with dinners most evenings, I would often try to gain some insight into what made a good bottle of wine. I'll never forget the age-old wisdom he gave me once: "You know what the best bottle of wine is?"  Pause. I shrug my shoulders. "The one that you like," he replied.

The past week has been incredibly difficult trying to negotiate my father's death.
Fortunately, I am also at an extremely busy time in my life. I am surrounded by a mountain of new projects. I just agreed to write three new solo violin pieces for a recording project in January for my friend Jo Nardolillo. I will have updates on my progress as I get underway to write these pieces. This weekend I am racing the Musselman HIM in Geneva, NY, and I am also one of the directors for the Musselman Arts Triathlon—a twelve hour concert of live music, dance, and visual art. This weekend month also marks the one year anniversary of my blog. I can not believe I have been writing this for a year! Did I mention that the concert that I helped coordinate, and am playing in until 10:00 p.m. is the night before the triathlon? Remind me NEVER to do this again!

Luckily, the training—albeit spotty with everything going on—has been incredibly therapeutic. Going out and beating the hell out of my body for two or three hours leaves me with little angst when I am through. Not to mention that I have found solace in my long runs, thinking about my father, asking him for help with everything from handling the heat, to my stride. I know he is out there with me, and it gives me special comfort. The training has been a way of channeling my sorrow into something positive. I am not sure how I would manage without it.

I DID beat my body up a little too much on Tuesday however. It was about 93 degrees and 50% humidity. So, I decided to go out for a run during the hottest part of the day—not smart. I brought nutrition with me, but I was toasting during my mile splits. After I was finished, I jogged over to the soccer field that was being watered by one of those industrial strength sprinklers that was about nine feet tall. I let it pour over me for a minute or two, but I had to jog just to keep up with it moving—ineffective. Finally, I ran back to my office and took a shower in the locker room. I hydrated that night, or so I thought. We hosted some friends from out of town and I drank a beer and half a glass of wine (as well as a lot of water.) I went out for a swim Wednesday and my stomach was really wringing. It felt like I had a sharp, stabbing pain. I thought that I might have acid, or an upset stomach. I got out to the first buoy and had to turn around I was in so much pain. The way back home was excruciating. Painful. My stomach hurt for about three hours. Finally, I arrived home and had a glass of Gatorade while I sat upstairs in my bed. Ah... that had been it all along—DEHYDRATION!  Woah!  The obscenely hot run the day before, the beer at dinner, and the diminished fluid intake the following day, all led to a debilitating day void of any training.

So, today, I am getting things together for the triathlon and the Arts Tri. I am a little stressed out, and unfortunately, the stress takes some energy away from preparation. It is draining. I am picking up my wife's cousin from the airport tonight. He is coming in from Florida, and we will be running Musselman together—great fun!

Looking forward to an extremely busy weekend. Here goes nothing!

More soon. Train Smart!

Mile Repeats, Take Two....Mile Repeats, Take Two

Today was my third go-around at mile repeats since being introduced to them by my running terrorist  coach, Vanessa. I have noticed a real difference from just the two that I ran when I go out for my long runs. Maybe it's psychological—or psychosomatic (like how I am convinced that wearing my white Ironman visor somehow makes me a stronger runner—it does though.) Whatever the case, I am certainly convinced that everyone who is training to run should incorporate some type of speed work into their routine. 


I have noticed that I feel a lot stronger in my long runs (10+) Adam and I ran 14 this weekend and our last two splits were 7:30 and 7:15, and I felt like maybe I had a little more in the tank when we were done. That is exactly the way you are suppose to feel when you are done—like you could have gone a bit longer. 

Vanessa studying for her graduate Medieval comprehensive exams before our six mile shakeout run with Adam. Notice the 2010 Boston Marathon jacket Vanessa is sporting. Showoff.

It is promising that I am feeling stronger and able to get in some serious training right around the time that I need to. Although, I have to tell you, as a father of five I sometimes have to bag my training, or cut it short in order to be a father of five—and THAT IS OKAY! My blogger friend Bob at ONEHOURIRONMAN has a really refreshing attitude concerning Ironman training and staying married. He recently finished a book about how to train for Ironman with minimal hours. His mantra: You will not podium, but you'll finish. Honestly, I think I am somewhere in between the two. I know that I have six hour rides to do, but there is no way that I can really commit that much time without upsetting my kids who want to spend time doing things with their daddy on the weekends. Can't I get out early and be home by mid-afternoon? Sure, but with five kids, each one of them needs their time with me. We often do activities all together, but a lot of times I just do things with the girls, or one of my children at a time. 


This is a look at what my last two speed workouts consisted of:
Workout #1:


2 mile warmup
mile 1: 7:45
500 recovery
mile 2: 7:28
500 recovery
mile 3: 7:03
500 recovery
mile 4: 6:37
500 recovery
2.5 mile cool down


Workout #2


2 mile warmup
1st mile: 7:15
2nd mile: 700
3 mile run off track
1200: 4:45
400 recovery
800: 3:13
400 recovery
400: 1:34
400 recovery
2.5 mile run


Okay—serious swim day today and a bike. 


Adam Update: 

Still single ladies. Alexa, I'm looking your way.

More soon. Train Smart!

Iron Reflections: 20 Weeks In

I have come to the realization that trying to train over the course of a week with five children, and lives as insanely busy as ours, (well everyone's,) I pretty much have to take what I can get sometimes. I have to constantly remind myself that I am—despite dreams of racing Crowie towards the finish line to inch him out at the tape—not a professional triathlete, nor am I single, independently wealthy, or willing to interact with my family for only twenty minutes a day.

To be a good father and husband, I have to be around. Being around often means sacrificing the number of hours that I can train in a day, or over the course of a week. It is hard psychologically—at least for me. The first 10 weeks of training were far easier, but as they weeks progressed, and the volume increased, my body is unable to turn it around as quickly for the workout the following day. Well, let me throw a caveat in there; it would be able to turn it around if I went to bed earlier and got more rest. I do not get enough rest, for sure. Thus, the part about being a good husband/partner/significant other. You can not come home from training, have dinner, put the kids in bed and crash without the risk of divorce papers. One thing that I miss is the occasional night out to have a beer or two. Not now, not with ironman training. I have two beers and I feel terrible the next day. Case in point: Friday night, an old student came by the house to visit, stayed for dinner and we talked over a nice bottle of red (the wifey helped too.) My Saturday training session felt sluggish.

I tried to think what the reason my wife and I stay up too late and feel tired the next day. I think I've figured it out:


Our life constantly revolves around little people. All day... "mommy this, daddy that...." There are times when we are driving in the car and three of our children will be arguing over one toy. It would seem as if the fate of the human race depended on this one particular plastic toy—manufactured in China for pennies—lied in the hands of each one of them from how adamantly they argue over it. Meanwhile, our baby is crying because she wants to listen to "princess music," and one of the twins is whining because she forgot her picture she colored at the Y (which get set down outside in the mulch in our landscaping, or on the grass, or in a stack of a million other pictures that they colored from the Y as soon as they get home to be shortly forgotten and never heard from again.) But to them, these issues are current and larger than keeping oil from hemorrhaging into the Gulf of Mexico. The wifey and I will look at each other in the car sometime, and realize that our only recourse when this kind of thing happens late at night—which it often does—is to announce the bedtime rituals (shower/bath, teeth brushing, jammies, books,) will commence immediately upon arrival at our home.

My great week of training capped off with a mediocre Saturday ride. The plan called for a 3:25 ride, followed by a 50 minute run, but we were all resigned to the fact that was not going to happen. I feel bad, but my training partners know that I can not be gone from the house for six hours (length of time it would take with loading gear and the drive) on a weekend. Not going to happen. I spent my morning at the diamond with the boys, then we ran to the bike shop to talk about my new rig (more on that later.) We were about 10 miles in when I started pulling way from Manuel and Adam on the bike. Every once minute or so I would look back to see where they were. I did not feel particularly strong on Saturday. I felt really tired—even before I got out there. It's the sleep thing! About five minutes later I heard my cell ring and it was Manuel—his chain had broke. To make matters worse, I had to bike two miles back to them to learn none of us had an extra link or chain tool. Here are Adam and I making fun of Manuel—not for breaking his chain—but for not showing up with the required Crankskins gear. This gear makes us at least .0001% faster.

Sunday's workout was a bit crazy. I was suppose to run a race in the morning. A 5k followed by a 10K. There was a deal in which you could run both races for $27. I was going to run the 5k to warm up my legs, and then race the 10k. I had forgotten that my wife had a 10 a.m. rehearsal and I was not going anywhere. Good thing too, my body was still in rest mode. I did get out for a run though, 8.5 miles during the hottest part of the day. It got up to 84 with about 600% humidity. Seriously, I was sweating like crazy before I even left my driveway. I could not be happier with my respectable 8:14's. I took a few endurolytes before I took off and a couple on the run every half hour to stave off the cramping. I had all four bottles in my fuel belt loaded up with liquid, but my drink turned out to be a wee bit too sugary and I only brought one bottle of water. I drank half the water and poured the other four ounces over my head and back and chest.

Speaking of the diamond, I took the boys there Saturday morning to practice their game and have some fun. They never want to leave once they are there, especially Luca, and it shows. He went six for six in his game the other day, caught five pop-ups, and switch hit for two doubles. He certainly does not get his coordination from me! Julian and I played some football alla rest of the world in the field next to the diamond while Luca had his game. Here is Luca batting lefty, just before he connected for his first double.

Here I am with the boys during the game. I love Little League. I mean, when am I ever going to be able to pull my son aside again anytime during his sports career, give him a hug and take a picture again in the middle of a game? Hey... technically, I guess I could do that anytime I desire. I think that is one of the spoils of parenthood we enjoy. Whenever my kids ask me "why?" in response to something my wife and I tell them to do, I say ".. because I use to change all your stinky diapers, and this is your way of paying me back."

I capped off my weekend with a trip to our favorite ice cream joint. Here is Stella letting me try some of her Superman ice cream. Our family does not go out for ice cream often (and it's a good thing—$18 for seven "baby" ice creams!) but when we do, we throughly enjoy it!

More on the new rig later this week.

Train Smart!

You Are What You Eat: A Date With Destiny Or A Deal With The Devil

Have you ever been in such a bind, that you would offer up anything, short of your soul, in order to accommodate your insanely busy social itinerary/obligations as a parent? Last week I was hard pressed to find a colleague to work for me so that I could make my son Luca's baseball game. Running out of time, I decided to put forth the following email:

Dear CO-Workers,

I am looking for someone to work for me tonight from 6-10. My son has a
baseball game. If anyone is willing to, I can swap out another shift this week—
even a morning!

In addition, I have not eaten a BIG MAC in over a decade. If you work my shift, I
will drive immediately to McDonalds and eat a BIG MAC. I am NOT kidding. I will
do this. I will document the BIG MAC eating online. 
Best,

Mark 


I have to admit that the idea was not solely mine. A few years ago I was at a new music festival in Ohio where a friend of mine told me a story about a doctoral candidate who stood up in the middle of a concert of one of his colleagues' music that was apparently so bad that he stood up and announced "I have been a vegetarian for ten years, if you stop playing right now, I will go to McDonalds and eat a Big Mac." The performers, a little rattled, trudged on until he stood up again and yelled "I am NOT kidding, I will now up the ante. If you stop playing RIGHT now, I will eat TWO Big Macs." Somehow, me eating a Big Mac does not seem nearly as bad as a vegetarian on the brink of insanity, who feels compelled  to eat a Big Mac to stop a musical performance. Just so happens, that my training partner Mike helped me out, but he is way, way too eager to hear about my gastrointestinal future. I never knew Mike was the (d)evil, but I guess you learn a lot about a guy when Big Mac's and lower g.i.'s are on the docket. Anyway, being a man of my word, I am afraid I am going to have to succumb to the insanely ridiculous caloric and sodium levels of one aforementioned Big Mac sandwich. I thought that perhaps I could somehow escape the "heart attack in a bun," and that everyone would soon forget, and I could go on eating boneless, skinless chicken breasts with beans and rice for lunch and dinner. The good news is that I think the Big Mac will be such a shock to my system that it should not really stay with me too long. Story and pictures to follow soon.

Training: Back at it this week with some serious training. Ah, this is what it feels like when your body is exhausted and you can not wait to get the kids in bed, so you can follow soon thereafter. Adam, Manuel and me went out for a serious ride around Canadaigua Lake—one of western New York Finger Lakes. It is not a long ride—almost 50 miles—but it is one of the hilliest rides I have ever ridden, and we did some serious climbing all day. The wind was also being less than cooperative. It didn't seem to matter much which way we turned, it felt like we were going right into it. Those of us who ride, know the feeling of going down a fairly steep hill, and feel like we are not increasing our speed because the wind is effectively acting like a sail trying to send us back up from where we came. However, one of our descents was so steep and curvy,  that even with my rear brake depressed, and feathering my back break, I easily was going over 30 miles per hour. Sure, you say 30 m.p.h. is not that fast?  It was on this road. It looked something like a San Francisco street with hair pin turns resembling the Le Mans race course. As much, as I like going wicked fast, I value my life even greater. In fact, I narrowly escaped a big accident yesterday. Manuel was behind me when the car we were going around parked on the road decided to open his car door right at the exact same time I was passing the door. Manuel said that I literally missed the door by less than an inch. That was more than a little scare. I shouted back to be more careful and the man coming out of the car was just laughing. For some reason, he thought it would be hysterical if I smashed into his driver side door causing serious bodily injury to myself—and possibly him—and some dents and dings in his car. Not to mention I just read a sobering news story about a serious crash in Montreal that killed three triathletes and injured three others. My nutrition on the ride was adequate at best. I took:

2 gels
40 ounces of electrolyte drink
1 package of carbohydrate lemon booster

I really had to force down the fluids on my ride. It was really windy and cold, and I was not feeling that thirsty. I did not feel weak on the ride necessarily, but I did not feel incredibly strong at any time either (with the exception of our initial launch.) I always feel strong and excited in the beginning. I kept my pacing pretty decent, despite the fact that Adam was in front of me and was pushing the pace a little faster than I expected. I kept encouraging him to save it for the other side of the lake—without sounding like I needed to slow down—putting my pride at risk. I know the course. I knew we would spend more than half the day climbing. And, in fact, there were times we would climb as fast a 5 m.p.h.! (8.0 kmh.)

Adam and I ran a nice 13.2 mile course yesterday. We had some steady rolling hills for the first six miles, then it was fairly flat. My legs were already toast on the way out. This was my sixth consecutive day running. Adam and I have begun strength training again as well. Our leg workout last Monday left both of us fatigued the entire week. I am looking forward to having the day off to swim and recuperate after a high mileage leg week. The good news is my wind felt great. If my legs did not hurt as badly, I think we could have pushed sub eights, but we ended up running solid 8:20's. We'll both take it considering how badly our legs hurt.

In other news: I went to a concert of a colleague this weekend at The Eastman School of Music. He did a lecture demonstration and premiered a new work. He was giving an example of punctuation in music that I found interesting. He said that he was at a seminar at Indiana University when a professor spoke about how music could be framed depending on its context. He used this example:

A woman without her man is nothing.

Of course the men in the seminar started shaking their heads up and down in agreement, laughing all the while, until the professor repeated with what he said was the correct punctuation:

A woman, without her, man is nothing.

So true. Honestly fellows, where would we be if it wasn't for the support of our women? (Don't answer that.)

Finally: I have some very important news to announce with my next post that has to do with sponsorship and raising some dough for a great cause.

More soon. Train Smart!

Crossing The Finish Line And Picking Up The Pieces

Phew!  What a weekend. I had a nice 14.35 mile (24km) run with my training partners Adam, Manuel and Mike on Saturday on my way to the concert hall for the premiere of my newest composition, Stress Test. I felt pretty solid all the way there, but the last two miles my hip flexors and calves were starting to get a tad bit tight. The great thing about doing such a long run on the day of a huge premiere was that I was about as laid back as I could possibly be throughout the rehearsals that I had to coordinate throughout the day. Not only did I have a premiere, but I was also the artistic director for the concert series that premiered four new works with choreographic essays. My premiere was great, and the performance the following day was even better. It was great having my friend Kelly play the concert as well. She played the flute part on my piece, but she is also a fellow triathlete, so we got to have a little bit of nerdy triathlete talk in between rehearsals. Now that the premiere is over, you would figure that I would not know what to do with my free time. Much to the contrary, I am now in the process of catching up with all the grading, writing, and general life activities that I put on hold—or at least slowed down considerably—the last three weeks. Now, in the aftermath of all the craziness I am—like The Average White Band—starting to pick up all the pieces.

I went out yesterday for an hour mountain bike ride. Fifteen miles of dirt, mud, sweat, sun, and fun. This is the time of year that I need to mix it up a bit. I have not been swimming much lately on account of being so busy, but I believe everything kind of happens for a reason. My shoulders have been a bit sore after my long swim workouts. I did a 3400 yard swim last week. I tried getting in the pool today, but I think the stress of the weekend and all the traveling in the car had left me very tired. Nothing really makes me more tired than spending hours riding in a car. I also feel like I have been doing a terrible job hydrating lately. I can always run and bike when I am tired, but swimming is a completely different deal. If I am tired, forget about it. Never mind the fact that the pool at my Y is about four hundred and fifty degrees.

Hopefully, I can get on track with my training again, especially the swimming. I know that is my third discipline, so I really need to keep on it. I feel like I have been marginally maintaining my cardiovascular strength lately. I also feel like I need to start getting in the weight room again to increase my shoulder strength and range of motion. I have had a little break from all the weight training and I need to get my butt back in there

Update: Congratulation to (Mr.) Kelly Covert for being the winner of the Fly By Night Duathlon held at the historic Watkins Glen Motor Speedway on 29 May, 2010. I will be contacting race director Jeff Henderson to let him know. Congratulations (Mr.) Kelly Covert—not to be confused with Mrs. Kelly Covert.

Oh yeah, I finished my PhD at doctor school on Tuesday, thus the infrequent posts. I am now Dr. Mark. My mother asked me if I felt differently now that I am Dr. Mark. I said "No, no... I am just as dumb and absent-minded as I was before I began."

Until next time.. train smart!

How Macho We're Not: The Truth About Projecting Our Psyche

Following my one hour lunchtime swim workout yesterday at the university, I was feeling pretty spent, so I called Adam to see how his workout went earlier that morning. I then made the comment "I got done well before the hour." He replied, "... well yeah you should have, it wasn't that long of a swim." I thought to myself, "Not that long?" Granted, it was a only a 2700 yard swim, but I never thought either one of us would be calling a 2700 yard swim workout short, especially when we  still had a one hour bike workout on cue. Then it occurred to me. The four of us—Adam, Manuel, Scott and myself—will casually throw these comments out to one another to psyche each other up, or often, out. We have these little mental pissing contests to see which one of us is handling the stress of the workouts, and life, before cracking and having to be committed to counting tiny black squares on the floor of an asylum. We are completely conscious of the fact that we do it, but pretend—for the sake of our friendships—that these little passive aggressive displays of machismo don't rattle any of us that much. And we all know which buttons to press. For instance, in the middle of a difficult bike workout, I will look over at the senior statesman of our group, Manuel, and ask him if the reason he is sweating so much is because he is feeling especially tired from staying up too late trying to renew his AARP membership online, or catching up on episodes of  Matlock. One of my favorite "digs" came one day when I asked Manuel in the middle of a run which Golden Girl he dated in their prime. Occasionally, the testosterone-induced bullying from our compet.... er, rather, training partners, escalates and manifest with the ultimate infantile response to these challenges to our manhood: a heroic and brainless display of athletic one-upmanship. Again, this usually goes without any verbal acknowledgment, because to do so would be to admit that we are all just as vulnerable today as we were by that bully in the fifth grade. No, rather, we will quietly try to increase the speed of the treadmill without someone noticing, , subtract three seconds from our ten second interval recovery on a swim so that  we can gain a two stroke advantage over your lane-mate, or sprinting the last half mile of a long bike ride, just to cross that finish line 20 seconds ahead of your training partner. The most tragic part of all this is that these these self-induced, moronic displays at proving our competitive advantage with witty—sometimes cruel—jabs, or pushing ourselves harder than the next guy are never done so with any regard to heart rate, training regimen, or the sustainability of our friendships. Far be it from me to come between you and Bea Arthur. So, the projecting of our inadequacies upon others will continue. All of us will continue to gauge each others strengths and weaknesses to gain some sort of psychological advantage for ourselves. Really, the only psychological advantage one can have in my opinion, is knowing yourself and your own limits, and to accept that others are going to be stronger than we are in one discipline or another. My advice to everyone is to not be concerned with what someone else can do, but the gains you're making in your training. Sure, duh you say, but it is way more easily said that done. I have found that accepting my weaknesses far more liberating. It is the way that I make gains in the pool. I ask stronger swimmers to look at my technique and give me feedback.


I have to admit it, I am less macho these days than ever. Life has this uncanny way of kicking your ass and beating you into submission every once in a while. Everyone has their breaking point. I know mine and I respect it. If my body still feels whipped the morning after a particularly grueling workout and workday, I am closing my eyes and getting an extra hour of sleep in the morning. I have learned my lesson trying to be macho and muscle my way through a workout. No gains come form muscling through a workout without enough rest. 
Exhaustion has set in a couple of time during weeks seven and eight. You know, that feeling when you just finish dinner and and your head and eyes start to feel irritated and "fuzzy." All I want to do is put the kids in bed and crawl into bed right after them.

Now, the very definition of macho is exemplified by my son Julian who had his tonsils and adenoids taken out  yesterday. If someone cut some part of my anatomy from the back of my throat I don't know how well I would take it. This guy was smiling—with the help of pain medication—and lucid nearly an hour out of surgery. I'm a wimp. 


In other news: Okay, it's Saturday morning and I am off to the gym for a TWO hour ride-yikes! I am really looking forward to getting my trainer. 


Swim Breakthrough:  This week I had a nice swim breakthrough. I learned how to really follow through with my left arm and rotate my right shoulder and core. Nice!  Using your left arm can be very useful swimming. Who would have thought?


Interview: I finished my interview with Jeff Henderson, race director of the Musselman and Portland Triathlon concerning race entry fees and history and future of mutisport events. 


Giveaway: I am also excited about an upcoming review and nutrition giveaway about a recovery product that I have very recently come to experience and really dig. 


Train Smart!

Six And A Half Percent and It's Okay Not To Finish

I decided to get my body fat tested. The last time I had it done was four years ago—just before I started training for triathlons—and it was 11 percent. What prompted me to get it done this time around is that I have been losing weight at an unbelievably rapid pace the last couple of weeks—nine pounds in two weeks—and I have been thinking of getting together with a nutritionist to figure out how to keep weight on while I train. Why? Don't people want to try to lose weight while they are training? Sure, but I am starting to look like a svelte Brian Boitano in tights circa 1988 Calgary Olympics (minus the great hair and tights.) I could do it by trial and error, or just eat a pint of my favorite Ben and Gerry's ice cream—Chunky Monkey—every night, although that would probably not be good for my sugar levels.


I have noticed that a lot of my friends, fellow bloggers, and training partners are going through a little bit of mid-early season training doldrums. You know... your six or seven weeks into a training program for a half or full triathlon that isn't until August or September, and you are already swimming 3000 yards three or four times a week by mid-February. Sound familiar? You are in good company. I, for one, do not subscribe to this notion of doing every single thing according to the letter of the law. If my parents read my blog, they could easily vouch for me. I mean, I do not get overly concerned with those mornings that I wake up and say "Holy crow! I have nothing in the tank this morning." It does not make sense for me to "go through the motions" if I am not getting anything out  my workout. I really can not run intervals if I am concerned about being thrown from the treadmill like a caber at a Scottish games ceremony induced by a spontaneous narcoleptic-like sleep. No, I teach one night class this semester, and I seldom get home before 9:30. I then have "dinner," talk to Alaina for a while and get to bed. Except by the time I get to bed it is well after 11 p.m., and five and a half hours of sleep to prepare for a 3000+ yard swim is just not enough in my book. Okay, I have been taking some liberties with the wifey's rule about getting all the training done before 8:00 a.m. However, I have been managing to squeeze my swim workouts in at noon at the university, which is cool and I can still make it home in time for dinner (if I am not in my office trying to hammer out another piece.) I am not going to get stressed out about missing part of my workout, or a workout all together. I can't. Unfortunately, sometimes real life rears its ugly head and I can not spend all my discretionary time away from work and family at the gym. When my  new Kinetic fluid bike trainer comes in, I will be able to put even "more time in the bank," as I can ride at home before the kids get up, or after Alaina and I put them in bed. I have to be okay with the fact that my life is crazy and I am not always going to have the time or energy to finish a workout to the letter of the law. C'est la vie!




The Kids: In the most bizarre comment yet by any of my children, I was getting dressed in my room when I overheard Luca make the comment after his shower while still in the bathroom getting toweled off "...hmmm, I smell like ranch dressing."   Ranch dressing?   What?!   I kind of laughed. It prompted one of my friends to insist that I really ought to check the labels on our salad dressing before dinner to make sure we are not eating Suave conditioner. 


The Plan Today: 1 hour and 10 minute run and a 40 minute bike ride. Here is a comparison of this past week and next: 


WEEK #7 - 1st Week of 2nd Pre-Season Cycle 
Swim 2:30 - Bike 4:25 - Run 2:35 -- Total: 9:30

WEEK #8 - 2nd Week of 2nd Pre-Season Cycle Swim 2:30 - Bike 4:40 - Run 3:05 -- Total: 10:15

Okay, off to the gym in a bit. Train Smart everyone!

Iron Reflections: 7 Weeks In

My life gives new meaning to the phrase "burning the candle at both ends." As the volume has steadily increased, I have noticed that Mark needs much more sleep. My life is ridiculously crazy at the moment. I have periods of craziness in my life that are usually accompanied with the pressure of finishing a commission in time. Even if I have a year to write a piece, it usually comes down to the last five or six weeks. The good news is I have been chipping away at this one for some time, and the score is officially with my friend Nicholas who is making parts and making the score pretty. Getting close!

I taught an evening seminar last night at the university from 6-:9:15. I came home, had "dinner"—if you can call eating at 10 p.m. dinner—and talked to the wifey. Adam called me around 10:30 last night to see what our game plan was going to be for the morning. I knew right then and there that a morning workout was not possible. I would have had to be in bed already to get up at five in the morning. I felt bad because I am trying to live up to my end of the bargain training for ironman, which is that all of my training should be finished before the kids have to get to school. That way, I can drive them every once in a while, put some time in the bank, and be home for dinner. When I miss an a.m. workout, especially a swim, it means I will have to be at the gym later. The only bright side is that my boys usually like to go to the gym with me, so I can take them.

I had a little bit of a breakthrough swimming last week. I was at the university pool where I made an appointment to get with the swim coach in a few weeks after their national championships. One of the guards stopped me who had seen me talking to the coach and said, "Hey, do you mind if I give you a little advice on your stroke?" She swims competitively on the university team. I was all ears. Turns out, I was really crossing my midline way too much. I seems so natural to do this, but it is really less efficient. The other thing she said that  made a big difference was to think of pulling yourself "up" in the water instead of this idea of pushing the water behind you, which is how I always swam. Does everyone know this? I was immediately swimming faster. The difficult thing for me is to let this all happen naturally. I am always so conscious of my stroke still as I am swimming. I sometimes hold my breath. Not good. Lack of proper oxygen flow can get you get that heart pumping quickly. She did complement me on my stroke and the things I was doing right too. She said I was getting good rotation and then tried to convince me she had no idea that I had only been swimming for four years.

Instead of doing our usual bike workouts, me, Adam and Manuel did the espresso bikes a few times this week. These are bikes with computer screens that have courses with varying degrees of difficulty on them. We did a twenty mile loop over some pretty steep rolling hills. As we were finishing up (the whole course took Adam and I an hour and five minutes to complete,) I looked over at him and said, "Hey only four and a half more times around this and we've done our ironman bike." He glanced over and gave me queer look before jokingly replying "okay, let's do it!" We decided not to. I had to  get to work—yeah, that's the reason. My legs have been fatigued all week from the 10-miler, my leg workout and the two twenty mile rides I have done in the last five days. I need to do some serious stretching. If I can get the legs a little more loose this week, I will welcome another long run. Crazy as it sounds, I kind of miss those 10+ milers!

Train Smart!