Week 5: Dude, where's my breakthrough?

I'm coming off six consecutive days of either running, swimming or weight workouts, something I haven't done since ... well, ever, probably. I should take a rest day tomorrow, but I feel pretty good, and it's awful tempting to take the bike out for an hour or two, especially since there's a chance of rain, which might keep the path out by the Beaches a little less crowded. Game-time decision.

I'm now five weeks in, a quarter of the way through this nonsense. On the one hand, I feel pretty good -- very good, actually -- about the progress I've made. On the other, it's still a daunting prospect. In a little more than three weeks, I start the proper training program for the race. Where am I?

Running: I can run 2.5 km. In fact, I've done four, with the occasional bit of walking. There wasn't much of a distinction, though, between "warm-up pace" and "race pace" until I started breaking up the runs into segments. There was a bit of improvement alternating running 1k and walking 100m. But I really saw a difference Thursday, when I did weights. I ran 500m to warm up -- and if you told me a year ago I'd be running 500m to warm up for something, rather than in total for a year chasing buses, I'd have laughed myself silly -- and cool down, and found I was traveling at about a 4:30 per km clip, rather than six-minute-plus pace I was keeping running the sessions uninterrupted. I think breaking the runs into segments is definitiely going to pay dividends.

Swimming: At the beginning of this process, I could not swim. I wasted two weeks on denial. Since then, I've developed a head-out-of-the-water breast stroke that will probably get me through. But it's inefficient and exhausting; if I can learn a more effective front crawl, I'll have a better time (not a primary concern) and should, in theory, be less exhausted when I finish the swim leg (very much a primary concern, right behind not drowning).

So I'm trying to work the crawl in, slowly, the way I got comfortable with that weird stroke I'm using now. I spent most of today's swimming session doing 10m stretches of front crawl, focusing on arm motion and breathing. I did a couple 25m lengths of breast stroke with my head under water, and did a couple 50m stretches with my head out. My plan for next week is, do the 25s front crawl, the 50s head-in breast stroke, and the 100s head-out breast stroke. The following week, the 25s and 50s are front crawl, the 100s head-in. And the week after that, it's all front crawl. Which takes me right up to the beginning of training.

There's still no appreciable difference between warm-up and race pace. And I haven't done any outdoor swimming, which is intimidating because, frankly, I loathe cold water. But there'll have to be a splash or two out at Cherry Beach, apparently.

Riding: I've been out once this year. Not good. Once the training starts, I'll probably have to do much of the bike stuff on a stationary at the gym, which does not appeal to me; a 40-minute session on a stationary bike is about enough to bore me to tears. The gym has spinning classes Monday nights, right after yoga, and it might behoove me to take those.

In summary: Going into Week 6 cautiously optimistic.

Bike geometry

When I was first talking about doing a triathlon with my riding buddy Rob -- he of "I could tell by the look on your back something was wrong" fame (yes, eventually I'll tell the story) -- I was talking about wetsuits and aerobars and tri-suits and --

"You like stuff," he interrupted. "You only want to do this so you can get more stuff."

There's a small -- okay, maybe not so small -- element of truth to that. I tend to like hobbies that involve gear. I can't help it. I'm a guy.

One piece of gear I've been neglecting is my bike, probably because, in recent memory, I've ridden regularly, whereas I haven't run or swum competitively in 30 years. (And I wasn't much competition back then, either.) I've been focusing on my swimming and running because they're weaker.

But my thoughts turned to the bike the other night. I have a great city hybrid, as I've mentioned before, but I really wanted to find a Web site where I could, component by component, custom-build my own bike. I'd love to give you the link, but I couldn't find one.

But I was, and am, of a mind that I might want to do something more custom for my next bike. I figured I should start by learning a little bit about frame geometry.

This is not a little bit. This article on SlowTwitch.com's Tech Center by retired bike designer Dan Empfield is pretty exhaustive when it comes to the whys and hows of bike frame design and geometry. Despite the heavy technical content, it's a breezy and sometimes very funny read. If you're fantasizing about designing and building your own bike, this is porn for you. If you're actually considering doing it, it's a necessary primer.

A bit of a wall

Is it four weeks or five? I can't remember and I can't be bothered consulting a calendar. I'll try to be more chronologically aware tomorrow.

The first couple of weeks of training, I was making progress pretty much daily. I was surprised that I could run at all, let alone go from 1k to a mile to 2k to 2.5k in consecutive sessions. After a rough start in the pool, I started getting somewhere pretty quickly. But in the last week, I haven't been able to increase my yardage at all. I've hit a bit of a wall.

I have been violating the 10 per cent rule, the one that says you should only increase your workout by 10 per cent (either in time or distance) from week to week. I suppose I could write it off as a recovery week, or just admit I'm writing cheques my body can't cash.

In the last three (four?) weeks before my training program proper starts, I guess I should try to maintain rather than push it. At least the base fitness level I'm starting from is worlds better than what it was four (five?) weeks ago. So break the runs up into 1k followed by 100m walking. Maybe spend one of my swim sessions a week in the training pool working on technique; I could try to switch to freestyle, but keep up the yardage with breast stroke. (The training pool's a bit of a goat rodeo, what with the seniors, physio patients and, well, novices like me, crossing chaotically, but it's worth trying.)

Then, second last weekend in May, my 12 weeks starts.

A couple of discoveries

Made a few interesting discoveries this week.

First off, I had to travel to Ottawa for work for a day and a half. This sort of thing can really screw up your training.

I was staying at the Hilton Lac Leamie in Hull, which is a magnificent place. It's set on parkland and a lake, with a trail running round it. I ditched my plans to go for a swim there and decided to run along the lake. After less than a kilometre, my throat was on fire and I was having trouble continuing.

The throat thing ... well, training does break down your immune system a bit, so maybe a picked up a bit of a bug. But I think for the most part it was inadequate fueling. I flew in on Tuesday afternoon on Porter (the only civilized airline left in the Western Hemisphere), and had counted on them feeding me, which they frequently do, even on flights of an hour's duration. Guess I wasn't flying at meal time, for lunch consisted of a Steam Whistle (still more than you get from other airlines). End resukt, I was trying to do my run powered by three packages of assorted nuts.

When you're used to a particular pattern of fueling, travel can wreak havoc with your training. Knowing what I know now, I'd have brought some bananas, yogurt and chocolate milk along for the ride.

Travel back to Toronto cost me my Wednesday workout, which was okay. It's Week 4, so it should have been a recovery week anyway. Work cost me my Thursday workout, which was not okay. Two days off in a row was not my plan. But I got to the pool today, where I made Discovery No. 2.

I'd set up a workout fpr myself: a 100m swim, followed by four 50m swims, followed by a 100m swim. (If I ever go into this much detail again, I'll write it as 1x100, 4x50, 1x100). It.s a 25m pool, so 100m is four lengths. On my first length, this thought crossed my mind: "You can stop any time. You don't have to go 100m; you can go 50, or 25. (Has to be increments of 25, though, or you drown.) There is nothing forcing you, no law of physics that says you have to do this."

That's when I realized that not only is training meant to condition your body; it's meant to condition your will. This may be no surprise to those of you who train regularly, but for me, not having trained for anything in 30 years (and training pretty half-assed back then, to be fair), it was a revelation. I did the 100, the 4x50, and the second 100. Then 4x25. Then I figured I had time for another 2x50. Then a pretty girl got in the pool, so I had time for another 2x50. At that point, I had to go back to the office. I feel like I'd still be there now if I hadn't. As it was, I'd set out to swim 400m, and I'd swum 700m.

The key, I think, is to set training goals that are challenging enough that you could give up if you wanted to, but realistic enough that you can complete them if you want to.

Third discovery: In all of the documentation on training and nutrition that I've read, in books, magazines, online, nowhere does anyone ever mention salad. I'm just sayin'.

Magic powders

After my run on Friday, I met a friend for drinks and a bite to eat. A deliriously good time, since we hadn't seen each other for months. And Michelle is a swimming addict, so she had some technique tips that'll be helpful, if I ever make it back to a front crawl.

Michelle: Which side do you breathe on?
Me: I'm supposed to breathe on both.
Michelle: No. *I'm* supposed to breathe on both sides. *You* choose one.

The point being to lengthen the stroke while exhaling just before getting my head out of the water to breathe.

Not my point, however. I skipped my routine Epsom salts bath, and felt it in the morning.

I don't know the science behind Epsom salts. I only know their magical properties. They soothe aching muscles. Grime slips from the side of the tub to be easily wiped away. And, in a really rough spot, added to water, it's an effective laxative. (Never used it for the latter, but you must have heard the expression: "It went through me like a dose of salts.")

Today was weights and core, since I ran yesterday, down to the beach and (most of the way) back, and I'll be spending tomorrow night in a hotel in Ottawa for a work event, and swimming is the most likely exercise option. The abs and obliques, especially, were threatening revolt. A salts bath put down that insurrection.

There's another magic powder I've been using lately. I'd noticed that deodorants left me stinging under the pits after a workout, so I switched to a medicated talc. There's something luxurious about a midday shower followed by a dusting of talc and fresh socks and underwear.

Don't know if you've ever watched Pardon the Interruption, a sports talk show on ESPN. Back when Quantum of Solace was released, co-host Michael Wilbon asked partner-in-crime Tony Kornheiser who his favourite Bond was. "Gold Bond powder. Right up my bidness," Kornheiser replied. ("I don't even know what that means. They make me say this stuff," Kornheiser said afterward.)

Taking stock of Week 3

Much more confident now than at the end of last week.

On the running front, did a 15-minute session that covered 2k on Tuesday. Then, on Friday, did a 15-minute session that covered 2.5k. I managed to increase my pace substantially with only a swimming session and a rest session between. And 2.5k is the running distance of the event.

Swimming-wise, I've gone from petrified to comfortable. I managed 100m uninterrupted, which is the minimum I had to achieve before starting on the training program proper. And it's still another five weeks till that begins.

There's still a long way to go in the next 17 weeks. Brian did a brick today. As my First Time Triathlon app takes glee in telling me, in several different contexts, it's called a brick not only because you stack a run workout on top of a bike workout, but also because your legs feel like bricks afterward. In any event, Brian did 10k on the stationary bike, then followed it with a 2.5k run on the track, matching the race distances. I'm a ways from doing that, but let's face it -- I've given him a 20-year head start.

But I'm pleased by where it stands right now, considering where it stood three weeks ago. Maybe a short ride early tomorrow, before I do 8k of errands. Sunday I might run out to Cherry Beach to check out what's there.

Cherry looks like the best opportunity for re-introducing myself to open water swimming, shallow, warm and well-lifeguarded, by reputation. Also apparently one of the cleaner beaches in Toronto. It's not like I'm going swimming out there anytime soon -- it's April, for the love of Gord, I'm not crazy. But this is the first time in my life, I think, I've chosen running as a method of travel from Point A to Point B. It'll also be the first street run I've ever done. I have changed. I'm still not addicted to running -- it's still an overwhelming effort -- but I can see it coming.

Heart rate training

Another forced rest day because of work commitments; it was supposed to be some weight work. I can do a little light stuff at home. And since I just started training two weeks ago, I probably shouldn't be at it six days a week yet.

Meanwhile, here's a great article on Mark Allen's blog about training at less than max to improve the aerobic engine.

Follow him on Twitter @MarkAllenOnline.

Walk before you (front) crawl

If I keep my head out of the water while swimming breast stroke, is it technically called a dog paddle? If so, call me a dog-paddlin' fool.

I discovered in the pool today that, with my head out of the water, I swim more rhythmically, more comfortably, more slowly than I do with my head in the water. Three hundred yards (not all at once) at an easy pace today, and I could have gone on a few more lengths.

This is not a viable long-term strategy. Out in the lake, I'd ship too much water. My body's hanging at a 25- or 30-degree angle in the water; not exactly optimal, hydrodynamically speaking. And I'm pretty sure that, eventually, my neck is going to be stiff.

However, it's giving me the patience to slow down and glide; it's keeping the panic at bay; it's allowing me to work out longer in the pool, which will translate to better aerobic capacity, strength and endurance. And all that will translate into more confidence and better breathing when I start putting my head back in the water.

My stroke should evolve through a hybrid head-out/head-in phase to a proper breast stroke. I might not make it to an effective, consistent front crawl this summer, but for the first time, I'm confident that by August, I'll be able to manage the swim leg of the triathlon.

How to lose a customer

I'm sure many retailers are struggling with the issue of customer churn. "Damn these loyal customers," you say to yourselves, possibly out loud. "What does a retailer like me have to do to lose some return traffic?"

Well, fortunately for you, I got an object lesson this weekend on the kind of treatment that will guarantee not only that you can lose a potential sale, but also that the customer involved (that would be me) won't set foot inside your store, nor any other location of your store, again.

The scene: The bike repair department of a shop that shall remain nameless. My 12-year-old daughter and I enter. I ask about getting a straight handlebar put on my KHS Urban Xpress hybrid bicycle to accommodate a Profile Design Century aero bar (you know, the extension they put on racing handlebars so you can tuck your elbows in and cheat the wind a little). Here's how, step by step, the bike mechanic gave me a clinic on alienating a customer.

1. Insult me. In front of my 12-year-old. "Get your money back. That's retarded," said the expert in customer service. Because, of course, there's no other way than insulting someone to get across the point that, in your opinion, the frame geometry of a hybrid isn't ideal for an aero bar.

2. Name-drop in reverse. "I had some guy ask me to do that, and I told him it's straight-up retarded," says the mechanic. (These aren't direct quotes, but an accurate representation. Except when you see the words "straight-up" and "retarded." Those are direct quotes.) He went on to tell me that this (presumably former) customer had said, "Well, my coach said it's a good idea, and my coach is a national cycling team coach," to which the mechanic replied, "Well, you can tell your coach that (insert name here) from (insert shop name here) says that's retarded, and he won't do it."

I will now use italics as my sarcastic type face. Oh, jeez, well, I'll take the advice of the bike mechanic over that of the national cycling coach. I mean, what could he know; he only coaches international calibre athletes, unlike the bike mechanic, who does seriously technical mountain biking and commutes. I'm sure that coach knows nothing about the physiology of riding, and he's probably never done any mechanical work on a bike.

Tell you what ... not only will I take the advice of the coach over the mechanic's, I'll take the advice of the student. Boasting that you oppose what a recognized authority says without having the qualifications to contradict him doesn't buy you any cred whatsoever.

3. Tell me all about your experience, because mine isn't what matters. I was then treated to a 10-minute lecture about how that would never work for him, how he rides, how he's sick of people who come in wanting a tri bike when they're only gonna ride two triathlons and then what are they gonna do because tri bikes are only good in a straight line and ...

Well, if you'd stopped to ask: Unlike you, I am not a mountain biker. I do not commute on my bike. As impressive as it is that you can manage that sphinctre-shrinking heads-up at King and Spadina, that's all irrelevant to me. If you'd let me, or these other people who want a tri bike, get a word in edgewise, you'd discover that for the most part, I ride on paved trails, I spend some, but not a a lot of, time in traffic, I DO SPECIFICALLY want to compete in a triathlon and thus want to tune my bike for that, and I'm not so stupid that I'd actually use aero bars in traffic. What kind of yutz do you think I am?

Anyway, short version ... I'll never darken the doors of that chain of stores again, though I used to drop about $100 a year for a variety of stuff. So, if you wanted to lose a customer, mission accomplished.

I've since dug through the online forums, and the consensus seems to be: Aero bars on your hybrid offer a comfortable hand-position option. Expletive-deleted the bike-shop boys who laugh at you. They don't have to ride your bike.

There's another shop, a specialty shop, that's a little bit further up another road from me. I'll ask them about putting a straight bar in, and solving the 0.1-mm compatibility issue I have. I'm sure I'll get a more mature response.

Light at the end of the pool

Before today (with apologies to Everything But The Girl), I couldn't point to anything in my swim regimen as progress. I was flailing. I wasn't making any kind of distance. The only positive, if you can call it that, is that I've become less uncomfortable in a shower room full of naked men.

I had to come to grips with the fact that, if I am not simply afraid of water, I am at least frightened of drowning to the point that makes swimming impossible.

Shane, my boss, recommended the breast stroke. "I can go forever on a breast stroke," he said. (BTW, I have also coerced Shane into registering for the triathlon. He's already done one, about two years ago, which means he's done one more than Brian and I combined.)

I'd already dismissed the breast stroke as too inefficient and slow. Then the thought crossed my mind: Probably, no one's ever won a triathlon swimming breast stroke; on the other hand, no one's finished a triathlon after sinking to the bottom of Lake Ontario. The object being finishing, not winning, I gave breast stroke some reconsideration.

I was won over by a video from a clinic called Swimming Without Stress (just the name made me feel better). Ian and Cheryl Cross run this British swimming school for aquaphobes and others trying to improve their performance in the water. The video demonstrates the basics of the breast stroke, all with Ian's soothing narrative ("Look up at the hands ... hello ... kick and glide").

I watch this four-minute video probably half a dozen times a night, and I'll even sneak in a peak or two at work. It's almost hypnotherapeutic. It convinced me that I can swim.

So, I slipped out at lunch to the pool at the Y. I didn't really have a plan, just to work on the basics. First, I swam about 120 metres. Ten metres at a time. I walked as far out toward the deep end as I could, swam back to the side of the pool, and repeated. It made me comfortable in the water and gave me a chance to refine my technique from flailing to something resembling swimming. Then I swam a couple of lengths.

Interesting difference from trying to swim a front crawl. First, I was more comfortable diving slightly under the surface of the water, whereas with the front crawl, it was a struggle to get my face in the water at all. Diving under also "presses your buoy," as Emmett Hines says -- pushing your full lungs down balances you in the water. My technique was not flawless -- there were some double sculls with my arms when I mistimed a breath, and some double kicks when I didn't get the glide quite right -- but it was definitely swimming. And when I was done, I was looking forward to coming back to the pool. Before, I was dreading it.

The conditioning is still a problem. I wonder if I might have left it too late. Not that I've cut it too close to the race, you understand. But that I've left it too late in my life -- too late to stop smoking, too late to resurrect my physical fitness after so many years of a sedentary lifestyle. I've got 17 weeks left to answer that question.

Shakeout ride

Friday's shakeout ride did not go exactly to plan. In fact, it didn't go.

I knew the tires would need some air. So I got to my bike locker 15 minutes before I was supposed to meet Rob, my riding buddy. I hardly got a chance to ride with Rob last year, on account of the knee issues, so I was looking forward to it. Rob says every cycling season I give him at least one story to tell (when I have nothing else to say, I'll tell you the one about the old man on rollerblades, in which Rob utters the timeless line, "I could tell by the look on your back something was wrong"). This year, it was on opening day.

See, not having ridden much last year, I hadn't had to put air in the tires. When I unscrewed the valve caps, I faced something I hadn't seen and didn't expect -- a Presta valve.

These are complex little European thingies, unlike the North American Shrader valve common to bikes and cars. This makes tires with Shrader valves easy to top up at gas stations, and those with Presta valves impossible to inflate without the kind of adapter that you know you're not going to find at any store that's open on Good Friday.

Thus the ride became a walk. Which was wonderful, actually. I'm a recent arrival to the neighbourhood -- I guess it's been three years now -- and we strolled through some areas of Cabbagetown, Regent Park and Corktown I've only skirted in the past. And I got the kind of history lesson they don't give you on walking tours.

Saturday was a write-off, but for the shoes (see BARGAIN ALERT below). But Sunday, I did get the tires inflated, put the bike on the ferry, and took my shakeout ride on Toronto Island. (I saw later in the day, on the news crawl, that there'd been some frayed nerves and hours-long lineups because the city was only running one of the three ferries, but I saw nothing of that. Must have been the Saturday.)

I love the Island -- my daughter and I would live there if we could -- so it's significant that the triathlon is being held there. I will be over there every second weekend this spring and summer, at least, which gives me a chance to scope out the course. I figured it would be a great opportunity to start the season on the track I'd be riding for the race.

Two words: expletive-deleted tourists. The place was hip-deep in people meandering over the bike paths, six or seven abreast, with no regard for the civilized notion that in North America, in any context -- road, sidewalk, escalator -- YOU KEEP TO THE RIGHT, dammit.

So, until I got out to Hanlan's Point, it was impossible to get up to speed without endangering life and limb. ("You don't want to hit people," says Heather, the bartender at my local, after I whine to her about it later. "Actually, I *did* want to hit people," I said.) Probably fine, anyway. I hadn't been out on a bike in a year, I didn't have the seat height dialed in, and there were other issues, so a flat-out sprint probably wasn't a good idea.

And, let's face it ... the Island isn't a place for rushing. Until the race.

BARGAIN ALERT: Running Shoes

If, like me, you've got flat feet and need serious motion control in your running shoe, Sporting Life has the Saucony ProGrid Stabil CS on for $99 (women's, too). AND since it's BOGO time at SL, you get a second pair for half price. The Saucony deal only appears to apply to one colour scheme; I got to the cash and was charged $149 (regular price) before I got it straightened out.

Easter break

Thursday being the defacto end of week T minus-19 and counting, it's time to take stock again, and I'm still not liking it.

The breathing exercises in the pool haven't done much for the lack of confidence in my swimming. It isn't just the breathing; there's an overall conditioning problem that comes from 20 years of a sedentary (in fact, almost sedimentary) lifestyle. I have improved not one whit in two weeks, and I'm running out of weeks.

This is almost assuaged by the arrival of what is becoming my weekly care package from Aquagoggles. This time, it's a pair of sport watches ($9.95 each). Stainless steel case, waterproof to 100 metres, no branding, your standard lap/chrono, timer and alarm functions. Completely unbranded, which is cool. And, unlike the Timex sport watches I've had in the past, the band is not integrated into the watch. I've had to throw out two working Timexes because the bands disintegrated.

Not unalloyed joy, however. One of the watches arrived with two buckle-ends for the strap, with no tongue to pass through. A quick phone call to the shop, though, and they've promised to send two tongues, esentially giving me an extra strap. (This was the orange one; I figured I should have one watch that would be easy for rescuers to spot.)

But I digress ... despite the swimming woes, I'm on track for the running (pun intended). It's promising to be a summery Easter weekend in Toronto, so the bike is definitely coming out for a shakeout ride. And I just discovered that my YMCA card is good not only at any Y in the city, but any Y in the world. So I should be able to sneak in an extra thrash in the pool over the weekend. I definitely need it.