I'm fighting the whole VO2Max battle on the one side -- breathing has never been my forte, but I'm working on it -- and on the other side, there's the fact that, well, I'm just not as flexible as I used to be, and it's causing problems
The largest problem,specifically, is my illiotibial band. Which I may not have spelled properly. Anyway, it's a tendon that runs from your hip to your knee. When everything'.s cool, you probably don't even know it's there. When everything's not cool, your knee lets you know about it. The classic presentation is that your effortless running stops at a specific time -- say, 15 minutes into your run -- at which point your knee puts a gun to your head and says, "We're not going to keep doing this, if you don't mind."
I walk a lot. Okay, I walk like a nomad. This tends to tighten up those IT bands. And they're very difficult to stretch. I'm religious about stretching after a run, but I didn't have anything that worked for my IT bands.
The I saw a YouTube clip of some guy using a foam roller to stretch his IT bands. You put the roller, which is about six inches in diameter, on the floor, lie along the top, and let it roll up from your knee to your hip. The guy demonstrating it was a little teary-eyed, and there was a catch in his voice, but he swore it worked wonders.
I picked one up this morning at The Running Room. The cashier, a lovely and inevitably fit young creature, gazed at me a little awestruck, like I was a soldier off to a foreign land to do some very unseemly task, like clean portas in Afghanistan. "Have you ever used one of these?" she asked.
I confessed I hadn't.
"The first couple of times, it's going to really hurt," she said. "But it's going to hurt sooooo good." Apparently, I'd notice the difference almost immediately. I got the impression that as soon as I walked out of the store, she'd begin praying for me.
I made sure everything was good and warm before I tried it. I went for a 45-minute ride, a hard ride, one of those rides where you have to yell at children and picnickers. Then I rolled out my yoga mat and laid out The Roller.
There are six stretches prescribed for The Roller. I began with the IT band stretch, figuring I'd get the worst over with first. And it hurt. Not as bad as I'd expected, but yeah, it hurt. I made some noises loud enough that my neighbours might misinterpret and consider me a ladies' man. (I am, just not enough to worry the neighbours.)
I went through the other five exercises, each one eliciting a louder (and easily interpreted as more carnal) howl. But it wasn't until the last stretch, the upper and lower back stretch, that I wept. No tears, understand. But there was no question that I was crying.
And ... I noticed the difference immediately. I had no idea where my IT bands were before; now, I can feel that they're looser. My quads, my hammies, everything. Tomorrow morning, I might feel like hell. But I don't think so. It's like having a massage from a masseuse in a really bad mood. It hurts like a sonofabitch, but it doesn't leave bruises, and later, well, it's a thrill to have survived and you feel refreshed.
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Showing posts with label training. Show all posts
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Sunday, July 4, 2010
How I spent my summer vacation Pt. 1
I did not jump in the lake yesterday. More logistics than fear. Two weekends from now, I'll have to do it twice, is all. See, you need someplace for your other stuff when you go for a lake swim. At minimum, you're carrying your house keys with you. And it wouldn't do for that stuff to disappear. I know. I've lost house keys before, and the buddy I stay with when I do something stupid like that (Hi, Dale) has moved to Vancouver. They do have lockers on Toronto Island, so I suppose I could have done it there.
Whatever. I wasn't all together at 11 this morning, so the easiest thing to do was a brick workout -- an hour-plus bike ride followed by a 10-minute run. I'm happy with how it went. The calf sleeves definitely make a difference, and it was the first time I'd run with the knee strap on. Getting a better idea, too, of what I need and don't need for each section of the race. (If it's particularly hot, I need the right cycling glove during the run because it has a sweat pad, for example. I have a water bottle in the left hand. Amazing the little things that occur to you.)
I got a couple days in on my week off where I got to work on more than one discipline -- cycling and swimming, cycling and running -- and also managed to squeeze some weight work in. I didn't manage to spring the surprises on my body I wanted to. One was the lake swim; my body already knows that's coming, so I can talk about that. The other is something a friend suggested to me that I'd planned on earlier in the week, but the knee issue kept me from trying. Week after next is a recovery week, so if I'm going to do it, it'll be in three or four weeks' time. It may have to wait till after the race.
I'd like to have accomplished more this week, but it's hard to know how much work you can put in until you've put it in. One thing I would like to have done is a mock triathlon: Swim, bike and run as far as necessary in one day. I got two-thirds of the way there today, and was considering going up to the Y for a swim, when I saw on TV that Yonge and Grosvenor was Ground Zero for the Pride Parade. Even if I could have got to the Y, that's just too much humanity to deal with.
I did gain a new appreciation for how wonderful it is to live by the lake. I rode out on the Leslie Spit to the end and got a view of the skyline with the islands in between. I wandered along Harbourfront. Tonight, after visiting my bike locker -- I've become attached to my bike in an unseemly way since I had the handlebar work done -- I walked down to Queens Quay to have a look at the water. I think that's how I'll close my evenings for the summer, rather than watching TV (I haven't turned mine on in more than a week anyway; any TV I watched, I watched at the pub, mostly World Cup fixtures) -- visit my bike locker, then go down to the water.
Back to work tomorrow, which means back to peanut butter and English muffins in the morning. I haven't had them in nine days. Lost a pound.
Whatever. I wasn't all together at 11 this morning, so the easiest thing to do was a brick workout -- an hour-plus bike ride followed by a 10-minute run. I'm happy with how it went. The calf sleeves definitely make a difference, and it was the first time I'd run with the knee strap on. Getting a better idea, too, of what I need and don't need for each section of the race. (If it's particularly hot, I need the right cycling glove during the run because it has a sweat pad, for example. I have a water bottle in the left hand. Amazing the little things that occur to you.)
I got a couple days in on my week off where I got to work on more than one discipline -- cycling and swimming, cycling and running -- and also managed to squeeze some weight work in. I didn't manage to spring the surprises on my body I wanted to. One was the lake swim; my body already knows that's coming, so I can talk about that. The other is something a friend suggested to me that I'd planned on earlier in the week, but the knee issue kept me from trying. Week after next is a recovery week, so if I'm going to do it, it'll be in three or four weeks' time. It may have to wait till after the race.
I'd like to have accomplished more this week, but it's hard to know how much work you can put in until you've put it in. One thing I would like to have done is a mock triathlon: Swim, bike and run as far as necessary in one day. I got two-thirds of the way there today, and was considering going up to the Y for a swim, when I saw on TV that Yonge and Grosvenor was Ground Zero for the Pride Parade. Even if I could have got to the Y, that's just too much humanity to deal with.
I did gain a new appreciation for how wonderful it is to live by the lake. I rode out on the Leslie Spit to the end and got a view of the skyline with the islands in between. I wandered along Harbourfront. Tonight, after visiting my bike locker -- I've become attached to my bike in an unseemly way since I had the handlebar work done -- I walked down to Queens Quay to have a look at the water. I think that's how I'll close my evenings for the summer, rather than watching TV (I haven't turned mine on in more than a week anyway; any TV I watched, I watched at the pub, mostly World Cup fixtures) -- visit my bike locker, then go down to the water.
Back to work tomorrow, which means back to peanut butter and English muffins in the morning. I haven't had them in nine days. Lost a pound.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Power training after the G20
Yeah, shameless Googlebait in the heading. I did get the hell out of Dodge for the G20 weekend, and in the nick of time, apparently. My daughter and I spent the weekend at my folks' in the suburbs, occasionally yelling at the TV: "If you wanna break shit, break it in your own neighbourhood, ya punk!"
I didn't have my daughter for the Father's Day weekend, so she was eager to give me my gift. Especially eager since our first stop after I picked her up was Running Free in Ajax. "You have to open it before you get out of the car!" she said. So I did: A running hat and a water bottle that straps to your hand from The Running Room. I was so thrilled -- my daughter, while she may think I'm crazy, supports me in this.
Less supportive she was as I was picking through swim trunks. I'd settled on a thigh length pair of TYRs that are unfortunately tight if the guy who's going to be wearing them happens to be your father. "Can't you find something that goes to your knees?" she asked. When I pointed out the alternative -- something in more of a Speedo cut -- she reluctantly relented.
You think that something like a tighter fitting trunk is going to have a minimal effect. It doesn't. When I first got the chance to wear them in the pool today, my first length, it reduced the number of strokes from 21 to 18. I swam a 400-yard uninterrupted stretch and had plenty left over. Not saying I couldn't have done it with something a little blousier, but still.
The swim was later in the aft. I went for a 90-minute bike ride first, because I'm way behind on my bike training. Didn't do hill repeats because I've been off the bike for two weeks. Dropped it off at Cycle Solutions on Parliament to finally get that flat bar put on. I'd wanted a Specialized Transition Aero bar, but one of the guys talked me out of it -- I'd need new brake levers, new shifters, and, in general, a lot of money. Instead, I settled for an Easton straight bar and dropped off my Profile Design clip-on aeros for them to install, and put a pair of low-profile bar-ends on to give me another hand-position option. Whole schtick costs less than the Specialized bars alone, so that's a good thing.
I'm bikeless till Wednesday, but that should be fine; I'm going for a run in the morning, and I'll probably go for a swim later in the day. I'm on staycation at the moment. This is a build week in my training, so I'm planning on putting as much time in as I can. Put a big vat of chili in the slow cooker, so I don't have to cook for a couple days. Just run, swim and, when I get my bike back, ride.
Got a couple surprises for my body this week. Can't tell ya, cuz I don't want it to find out.
I didn't have my daughter for the Father's Day weekend, so she was eager to give me my gift. Especially eager since our first stop after I picked her up was Running Free in Ajax. "You have to open it before you get out of the car!" she said. So I did: A running hat and a water bottle that straps to your hand from The Running Room. I was so thrilled -- my daughter, while she may think I'm crazy, supports me in this.
Less supportive she was as I was picking through swim trunks. I'd settled on a thigh length pair of TYRs that are unfortunately tight if the guy who's going to be wearing them happens to be your father. "Can't you find something that goes to your knees?" she asked. When I pointed out the alternative -- something in more of a Speedo cut -- she reluctantly relented.
You think that something like a tighter fitting trunk is going to have a minimal effect. It doesn't. When I first got the chance to wear them in the pool today, my first length, it reduced the number of strokes from 21 to 18. I swam a 400-yard uninterrupted stretch and had plenty left over. Not saying I couldn't have done it with something a little blousier, but still.
The swim was later in the aft. I went for a 90-minute bike ride first, because I'm way behind on my bike training. Didn't do hill repeats because I've been off the bike for two weeks. Dropped it off at Cycle Solutions on Parliament to finally get that flat bar put on. I'd wanted a Specialized Transition Aero bar, but one of the guys talked me out of it -- I'd need new brake levers, new shifters, and, in general, a lot of money. Instead, I settled for an Easton straight bar and dropped off my Profile Design clip-on aeros for them to install, and put a pair of low-profile bar-ends on to give me another hand-position option. Whole schtick costs less than the Specialized bars alone, so that's a good thing.
I'm bikeless till Wednesday, but that should be fine; I'm going for a run in the morning, and I'll probably go for a swim later in the day. I'm on staycation at the moment. This is a build week in my training, so I'm planning on putting as much time in as I can. Put a big vat of chili in the slow cooker, so I don't have to cook for a couple days. Just run, swim and, when I get my bike back, ride.
Got a couple surprises for my body this week. Can't tell ya, cuz I don't want it to find out.
Monday, June 21, 2010
The Aquatic Goat Rodeo
They've shut down the training pool at the Y for maintenance for six weeks. The training pool is kept about 10F warmer than the lengths pool. The depth is adjustable, but it's generally kept about three feet deep. This is where older folk go for low-impact exercise and physio; novices develop their strokes in an environment where the side is never far away and the water's never deep. I like going there at the end of my swim to stretch in the warmer water.
But as it's closed, the die-hards among the denizens are flooding the lengths pool. There are three roped-off lanes for lengths, taking up half the pool, but I wasn't sure I'm fast or consistent enough to use them, when I had the whole other half of the pool to swim lengths without getting in somebody's way. But today, it was an obstacle course in there. People just standing around, people doing physio routines that looked like interpretive dance, people just in general getting in the way.
At first, I was sore displeased. I was having a helluva a time picking my way around people to do my set. Twenty-five metre lengths were becoming 30m lengths. I was shipping water from the wakes of other people trying to swim lengths pressed into a more confined area.
Then, dodging someone coming eastbound while I was trying to go west, I almost collided with a guy going west at a fair clip front crawl. I pulled up in time, but found myself swimming right at his feet. And I found the going surprisingly easy; I was keeping pace with breast stroke, and it was a cool-down lap. My first experience of drafting in the water.
That's when I realized ... if I think *this* is a goat rodeo, what am I going to make of the beginning of the triathlon? I started to enjoy it more. It's good practice for swimming in traffic. Good for learning how to draft. Good for learning how to deal with a mouthful of water.
And I started realizing the people "in my way" weren't pylons. The two women leaning on the edge of the pool chatting? One was trying to help the other overcome her fear of water and feel more comfortable floating. The older guy beside them was doing pushdowns with flutterboards stacked on top of each other. Excellent idea.
I did eventually move over to the roped off lanes, where I settled in quite comfortably in the medium-fast lane. I actually ended up doing almost as much dodging there; one of my lane-mates had a massively horizontal front crawl, his arms swinging out almost the entire width of the lane. I had to duck half into the fast lane on more than one occasion. But I managed to string together 200m uninterrupted, which is the best I've managed to date.
With only eight weeks to go, I think it's too late for a massive overhaul of my swim technique. That'll have to wait till winter. But I find myself hoping next swim is going to be just as crowded so I can work on my traffic skills and see if I can sneak in a draft or two without anybody noticing.
But as it's closed, the die-hards among the denizens are flooding the lengths pool. There are three roped-off lanes for lengths, taking up half the pool, but I wasn't sure I'm fast or consistent enough to use them, when I had the whole other half of the pool to swim lengths without getting in somebody's way. But today, it was an obstacle course in there. People just standing around, people doing physio routines that looked like interpretive dance, people just in general getting in the way.
At first, I was sore displeased. I was having a helluva a time picking my way around people to do my set. Twenty-five metre lengths were becoming 30m lengths. I was shipping water from the wakes of other people trying to swim lengths pressed into a more confined area.
Then, dodging someone coming eastbound while I was trying to go west, I almost collided with a guy going west at a fair clip front crawl. I pulled up in time, but found myself swimming right at his feet. And I found the going surprisingly easy; I was keeping pace with breast stroke, and it was a cool-down lap. My first experience of drafting in the water.
That's when I realized ... if I think *this* is a goat rodeo, what am I going to make of the beginning of the triathlon? I started to enjoy it more. It's good practice for swimming in traffic. Good for learning how to draft. Good for learning how to deal with a mouthful of water.
And I started realizing the people "in my way" weren't pylons. The two women leaning on the edge of the pool chatting? One was trying to help the other overcome her fear of water and feel more comfortable floating. The older guy beside them was doing pushdowns with flutterboards stacked on top of each other. Excellent idea.
I did eventually move over to the roped off lanes, where I settled in quite comfortably in the medium-fast lane. I actually ended up doing almost as much dodging there; one of my lane-mates had a massively horizontal front crawl, his arms swinging out almost the entire width of the lane. I had to duck half into the fast lane on more than one occasion. But I managed to string together 200m uninterrupted, which is the best I've managed to date.
With only eight weeks to go, I think it's too late for a massive overhaul of my swim technique. That'll have to wait till winter. But I find myself hoping next swim is going to be just as crowded so I can work on my traffic skills and see if I can sneak in a draft or two without anybody noticing.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Help Wanted: Somebody who can explain nutrition
There are three disciplines to a triathlon: swimming, cycling and running. The transitions -- getting from swimto bike, and from bike to run -- are considered the fourth discipline. In training, though, I think there's a third-and-a-half discipline, especially for those of us who are recent jumpers-on of the fitness bandwagon: Proper fueling.
I have done much research regarding how to eat properly when in training, and in preparation for a race. I.m still pretty much faking it, though I can't complain I'm carbing out during workouts or feel woozy from eating the wrong stuff. Carbs before workout (peanut butter and English muffins -- I think I've mentioned I'm 19% peanut butter by weight now -- bananas and yogurt), carbs and protein afterward (the blessed chocolate milk -- widely hailed as The Best Recovery Food Ever -- fish and rice and veggies and stuff).
But I keep reading how I should get x% of my calories from carbs, x% from proteins and x% from fats, and frankly, even with the anal-retentive level of food labeling we have in this country, I can't figure out what that means. How many grams of carbs equals how many calories? How many calories to a gram of fat? Saturated or unsaturated or polyunsaturated? Am I gettijng enough protein? Am I getting too much protein?
Best advice I have to go on is Canada's Food Guide, but erring on the high end of the range -- more calories, more servings of each food type. And I'm getting by. I haven't bonked in a workout.
But I sure would like to know how to reach that nirvana of carb/protein/fat balance. Not that I necessarily would hold to that diet; I'd just like to know how to do the math. If anyone can enlighten me, I'd be grateful.
The other dietary issue I have to work out is ... let's call it "processing time." I already have an issue with getting to work at 9 a.m. because it's a 1:15 commute and every morning between 7:45 and 8:00, nature calls rather urgently. (I'm sharing too much, amn't I?) I'm looking at about an 8:20 start time for the race. I have to a) ensure I'm carbed up and ready to go for that start and 2) work out how to make sure I'm not in the porta when the gun goes off.
Any advice (other than eat more peanut butter) would be appreciated.
I have done much research regarding how to eat properly when in training, and in preparation for a race. I.m still pretty much faking it, though I can't complain I'm carbing out during workouts or feel woozy from eating the wrong stuff. Carbs before workout (peanut butter and English muffins -- I think I've mentioned I'm 19% peanut butter by weight now -- bananas and yogurt), carbs and protein afterward (the blessed chocolate milk -- widely hailed as The Best Recovery Food Ever -- fish and rice and veggies and stuff).
But I keep reading how I should get x% of my calories from carbs, x% from proteins and x% from fats, and frankly, even with the anal-retentive level of food labeling we have in this country, I can't figure out what that means. How many grams of carbs equals how many calories? How many calories to a gram of fat? Saturated or unsaturated or polyunsaturated? Am I gettijng enough protein? Am I getting too much protein?
Best advice I have to go on is Canada's Food Guide, but erring on the high end of the range -- more calories, more servings of each food type. And I'm getting by. I haven't bonked in a workout.
But I sure would like to know how to reach that nirvana of carb/protein/fat balance. Not that I necessarily would hold to that diet; I'd just like to know how to do the math. If anyone can enlighten me, I'd be grateful.
The other dietary issue I have to work out is ... let's call it "processing time." I already have an issue with getting to work at 9 a.m. because it's a 1:15 commute and every morning between 7:45 and 8:00, nature calls rather urgently. (I'm sharing too much, amn't I?) I'm looking at about an 8:20 start time for the race. I have to a) ensure I'm carbed up and ready to go for that start and 2) work out how to make sure I'm not in the porta when the gun goes off.
Any advice (other than eat more peanut butter) would be appreciated.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Me and the boys go running
Warning: This blog posting contains persistent, euphemistic references to the male nether regions (see, there's one already). And something that might qualify as a joke. If that sort of thing offends you, don't get teste. Um, testy. Just stop reading now.
I was discussing with a friend, who shall remain nameless for the time being, the importance of quality workout gear. Anything I buy this summer, I said, will be of a wicking polyester nature. I recently bought a pair of Elan shorts from Mountain Equipment Co-op -- 87% Supplex, 13% spandex in a "men's specific" cut. They're 1,000% comfortable. I was trying to find a polite way to explain that, well, my boys don't want me to wear anything else.
"My undercarriage approves," I said.
"'Undercarriage-approved,'" she mused. "God, I hope that's a thumb that's up in the logo."
I've long held to a no-Speedo ethic, feeling that such swimwear puts the side-order of veggies too prominently on display. "Banana hammocks," my friend Joe calls them. However, at some point, you gotta say, "Modesty be damned," give some priority to comfort, and maybe wear a longer jersey.
Cotton is cheap. Cotton is forgiving. Sweatwise, cotton also soaks it up like your Scottish uncle at a whisky pavilion. It becomes uncomfortable quite quickly; and if it's miserable in the heat, it's even worse in the cold. I've read recently that Merino wool wicks wonderfully and controls odour well, but I haven't had the opportunity to put it to the test, and frankly, it's June, for the love of whatever's holy this week. A spandex/poly blend may be a little revealing of your little brothers, but I guarantee it'll make you want to work out longer, accompanied by a suitable top of a wicking variety.
So I gotta pick up another pair of Elans this weekend. And, I suppose, a couple longer jerseys.
I was discussing with a friend, who shall remain nameless for the time being, the importance of quality workout gear. Anything I buy this summer, I said, will be of a wicking polyester nature. I recently bought a pair of Elan shorts from Mountain Equipment Co-op -- 87% Supplex, 13% spandex in a "men's specific" cut. They're 1,000% comfortable. I was trying to find a polite way to explain that, well, my boys don't want me to wear anything else.
"My undercarriage approves," I said.
"'Undercarriage-approved,'" she mused. "God, I hope that's a thumb that's up in the logo."
I've long held to a no-Speedo ethic, feeling that such swimwear puts the side-order of veggies too prominently on display. "Banana hammocks," my friend Joe calls them. However, at some point, you gotta say, "Modesty be damned," give some priority to comfort, and maybe wear a longer jersey.
Cotton is cheap. Cotton is forgiving. Sweatwise, cotton also soaks it up like your Scottish uncle at a whisky pavilion. It becomes uncomfortable quite quickly; and if it's miserable in the heat, it's even worse in the cold. I've read recently that Merino wool wicks wonderfully and controls odour well, but I haven't had the opportunity to put it to the test, and frankly, it's June, for the love of whatever's holy this week. A spandex/poly blend may be a little revealing of your little brothers, but I guarantee it'll make you want to work out longer, accompanied by a suitable top of a wicking variety.
So I gotta pick up another pair of Elans this weekend. And, I suppose, a couple longer jerseys.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Halfway there
I started the 12-week 1st Time Tri training program two weeks ago, which leaves me 10 weeks to the race. And, as this blog is subtitled "Going from chain-smoking, beer-drinking couch potato to triathlete in 20 weeks," that would suggest I'd better be halfway to a triathlete.
I'm on or ahead of schedule in all the disciplines in terms of workout, says my app. I am dead on 165 out of 165 minutes cycling, though I've missed two workouts. I tend to bank time on long rides, which I know is not the point. But riding a stationary bike is as boring as watching a very boring thing being bored, so I try to log all my time outside, which usually means the weekend. (Also, the week is the best time for swimming and running for me, thanks to the proximity of the Y to work.) I have 105 minutes to log for next week, which I'll likely put in tomorrow with Rob, weather notwithstanding. (Then I'm taking my trusty steed -- my bike that is, not Rob -- in for tweaking at the shop.)
Well ahead on the swimming, having put in 2,100 metres in the last two weeks, when the program wanted 1,150. I bank these metres not to buy days off, but because I am still concerned I won't be able to finish the swim leg unless I put in more time.
But my proudest accomplishment when it comes to the program is that my running has kept pace. So far over the last two weeks, the program has demanded 75 minutes. I've run 76. I actually banked a minute running. This is a huge deal for me. In high school, they practically had to put a gun to my head to make me do the 12-minute run, a pre-requisite for passing PE in 11th grade. I have always despised distance running. The 13.5 km I've run in the last two weeks is more distance running than I'd done probably between my 18th birthday and March 21, 2010.
After the early gains of the first few weeks, I probably haven't improved much. And the first two weeks of the training program have been reasonably gentle. When I look ahead at next week's sessions, there's a definite step up in the demands for running; rather than 4x5-minute sessions, I'm looking at 2x10-minute sessions. That's a fair hump for me to get over, especially since I took my Saturday rest day on Tuesday because of work issues. (I blame the lawyers. Long story, and one I can't tell anyway.) The swimming increase is moderate (and I usually go over anyway), and I'll have the biking out of the way by tomorrow afternoon.
The week after is a recovery week, so the demands don't go up. They don't go down, either. The week after the week after ... well, it gets a little nastier.
I'm on or ahead of schedule in all the disciplines in terms of workout, says my app. I am dead on 165 out of 165 minutes cycling, though I've missed two workouts. I tend to bank time on long rides, which I know is not the point. But riding a stationary bike is as boring as watching a very boring thing being bored, so I try to log all my time outside, which usually means the weekend. (Also, the week is the best time for swimming and running for me, thanks to the proximity of the Y to work.) I have 105 minutes to log for next week, which I'll likely put in tomorrow with Rob, weather notwithstanding. (Then I'm taking my trusty steed -- my bike that is, not Rob -- in for tweaking at the shop.)
Well ahead on the swimming, having put in 2,100 metres in the last two weeks, when the program wanted 1,150. I bank these metres not to buy days off, but because I am still concerned I won't be able to finish the swim leg unless I put in more time.
But my proudest accomplishment when it comes to the program is that my running has kept pace. So far over the last two weeks, the program has demanded 75 minutes. I've run 76. I actually banked a minute running. This is a huge deal for me. In high school, they practically had to put a gun to my head to make me do the 12-minute run, a pre-requisite for passing PE in 11th grade. I have always despised distance running. The 13.5 km I've run in the last two weeks is more distance running than I'd done probably between my 18th birthday and March 21, 2010.
After the early gains of the first few weeks, I probably haven't improved much. And the first two weeks of the training program have been reasonably gentle. When I look ahead at next week's sessions, there's a definite step up in the demands for running; rather than 4x5-minute sessions, I'm looking at 2x10-minute sessions. That's a fair hump for me to get over, especially since I took my Saturday rest day on Tuesday because of work issues. (I blame the lawyers. Long story, and one I can't tell anyway.) The swimming increase is moderate (and I usually go over anyway), and I'll have the biking out of the way by tomorrow afternoon.
The week after is a recovery week, so the demands don't go up. They don't go down, either. The week after the week after ... well, it gets a little nastier.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Futzing with toe clips
My, isn't that the most compelling headline you've read on a blog post? Had the blogosphere existed in July 1969, and you had the option of reading "Man On The Moon!" or "Futzing With Toe Clips," I'm sure the toe clip post would be pulling the traffic. (I don't even have to use my sarcastic typeface.)
Nonetheless, the toe-clip issue is a significant one for cyclists looking for a more efficient ride. There is a topless picture of an alt-rock star here. Click back there, or continue reading.
Since you've decided to follow the toe-clip stream, here's the thing. You want to be pedaling in circles, not up and down; as your leg comes up, it should be pulling the crankset, not just along for the ride. The best solution is cycling shoes with cleats and pedals designed to fit them.Two problems. A) It's a laughably expensive proposition. (I managed to pick up a pair of Adidas, sans cleats, for $30 at the bike show, but your mileage will definitely vary. Cleats are another $30. Pedals, well, that could get truly ugly.) And 2) Unless you're running an Olympic distance or longer triathlon, you're probably not going to want to change shoes.
(Gatorade has a great video of the swim-to-bike transition showing how to put on bike shoes on the fly.)
Your other option is toe clips. I bought a pair of toe clips when I took up cycling again a couple years ago, but before I read how the Cyclists In The Know dismissed them outright as potentially lethal in traffic. I hid them in my tool box so the cool kids wouldn't know I had them.
But as I was researching triathlon training, it came up again and again: If you're going to do one thing to tweak your bike for a triathlon, put toe clips on the pedals.So I dug out the toe clips and installed them on my pedals, a process that takes the most anal-retentive perfectionist about 30 seconds a side.
After several rides with them I can confirm that, yes, it makes for a much more efficient ride, and, yes, they're potentially lethal in traffic.
The problem is that, gravity being a harsh mistress, the clips rotate down and expose the unclipped side of the pedal when you take a foot out, which you have to do every time you stop in traffic. (I find myself slowing hilariously when I approach a red light, hoping it'll go green before I have to put a foot down. Works maybe half the time.)
So, a couple tips. My clips are, entirely by happenstance, flexible plastic, so they can take the occasional scrape across the pavement when I accidentally hit the first couple of strokes with the pedal upside down. More importantly, I've been working on a no-look pedal flip. My right foot is on the pavement at a stop, my left in the stirrup. The right pedal is upside down, clip facing the ground. With my right pedal at 12 o'clock, I step on the back of the pedal and paw it backward, popping my foot into the clip when it spins around. DO NOT WATCH YOUR FOOT. You're in traffic.
I get it right about eight times out of 10 now. I'm still practicing. One thing I have noticed is that the more I focus on it, the more likely I am to screw it up.
See? Aren't you glad you read on instead of looking at what's 'er names breasts?
Nonetheless, the toe-clip issue is a significant one for cyclists looking for a more efficient ride. There is a topless picture of an alt-rock star here. Click back there, or continue reading.
Since you've decided to follow the toe-clip stream, here's the thing. You want to be pedaling in circles, not up and down; as your leg comes up, it should be pulling the crankset, not just along for the ride. The best solution is cycling shoes with cleats and pedals designed to fit them.Two problems. A) It's a laughably expensive proposition. (I managed to pick up a pair of Adidas, sans cleats, for $30 at the bike show, but your mileage will definitely vary. Cleats are another $30. Pedals, well, that could get truly ugly.) And 2) Unless you're running an Olympic distance or longer triathlon, you're probably not going to want to change shoes.
(Gatorade has a great video of the swim-to-bike transition showing how to put on bike shoes on the fly.)
Your other option is toe clips. I bought a pair of toe clips when I took up cycling again a couple years ago, but before I read how the Cyclists In The Know dismissed them outright as potentially lethal in traffic. I hid them in my tool box so the cool kids wouldn't know I had them.
But as I was researching triathlon training, it came up again and again: If you're going to do one thing to tweak your bike for a triathlon, put toe clips on the pedals.So I dug out the toe clips and installed them on my pedals, a process that takes the most anal-retentive perfectionist about 30 seconds a side.
After several rides with them I can confirm that, yes, it makes for a much more efficient ride, and, yes, they're potentially lethal in traffic.
The problem is that, gravity being a harsh mistress, the clips rotate down and expose the unclipped side of the pedal when you take a foot out, which you have to do every time you stop in traffic. (I find myself slowing hilariously when I approach a red light, hoping it'll go green before I have to put a foot down. Works maybe half the time.)
So, a couple tips. My clips are, entirely by happenstance, flexible plastic, so they can take the occasional scrape across the pavement when I accidentally hit the first couple of strokes with the pedal upside down. More importantly, I've been working on a no-look pedal flip. My right foot is on the pavement at a stop, my left in the stirrup. The right pedal is upside down, clip facing the ground. With my right pedal at 12 o'clock, I step on the back of the pedal and paw it backward, popping my foot into the clip when it spins around. DO NOT WATCH YOUR FOOT. You're in traffic.
I get it right about eight times out of 10 now. I'm still practicing. One thing I have noticed is that the more I focus on it, the more likely I am to screw it up.
See? Aren't you glad you read on instead of looking at what's 'er names breasts?
Monday, May 24, 2010
And so it begins
I am now out of pre-training and into training. As of yesterday, it's 12 weeks to the triathlon.
It was an unusual May 24 long weekend. First of all, the holiday was actually on May 24, which almost never happens. In general, it didn't mesh with my 24 associations. I associate the May long weekend with miserable weather, the smell of two-stroke motors and live bait, and sleeping on, at best, a couch. Granted, I haven't done the May 24 fishing trip in years, but for a while it was a regular thing. Since then, like most long weekends, it's been about laundry. But it's the outboards and live bait I remember.
My daughter spent the weekend at a friend's trailer, building her own May 24 associations. So I was at loose ends. So I packed a fair bit of training into a weekend of glorious weather, though what might be most important is what I took a pass on.
It was my brother-in-law's birthday. Big surprise party out in Belleville. Martyn is the most decent guy who ever married a sister. But I knew it was going to be a weekend of music (great), drinking (not so great) and smoking (potentially fatal). I've quit too recently to take the chance I might fall off the wagon, so I had to decline. I'm hoping to one day be forgiven.
Took a ride along the waterfront trail out west to the Ex and a little past, where I found a great little spot to do hill repeats. It's the lead-up to a bridge across Lakeshore Blvd. at about Roncesvalles, a steep little hillet that's about 20 seconds up. Coast back down the other side, ride back 30-odd yards, repeat. After about 10, I was ready to go home. A spring shower gave me the excuse.
On the way back, I heard an air horn behind me, so I pulled off to the right. Somebody positively blew by me on roller blades. About 6'5", maybe, very cut, long-legged and wearing a lycra Spiderman onesy. I kept pace after he passed me, but didn't make up any ground until he got into traffic. (Hey, I'd been doing hill repeats.) Finally caught him at a light.
"Man, you fly on those things," I gasped.
"I'm Spiderman today," he said. Then he took off. Never got a chance ot find out where he got the onesy.
Sunday was the official first day of training. According to my iPod app, I was supposed to swim 200 metres. I had time on my hands, and I was enjoying the pool at the Grosvenor YMCA, so I did 800. But I'm still not doing front crawl, my best sprint time translated to 100 yards is still about 2:40, and ... well, I think I can finish. I just think I'm going to be spending too long in the water.
However, one of the books I picked up put it this way: the swim is the shortest part of the program, the bikes the longest. Take 10% off your swim time, you save x-minutes. Take 10% off your ride time ...
So today, I finally got out on a ride with Rob, who dragged me all over hell's half-acre -- 30k up through Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, over through Rosedale, out to Bathurst. Coming back east along Broadway were a couple of long downhills ... I don't know how I kept from howling. They were the kind where you pick up so much speed you don't realize it until a car brakes in front of you and your own brakes squeal when you have to stop. Hills that make you feel like a 12-year-old. When I was a kid and I took hills like that on my CCM five-speed, I'd pretend I was flying a fighter plane. And it's the weirdest thing ... I could smell two-stroke engine and live bait.
It was an unusual May 24 long weekend. First of all, the holiday was actually on May 24, which almost never happens. In general, it didn't mesh with my 24 associations. I associate the May long weekend with miserable weather, the smell of two-stroke motors and live bait, and sleeping on, at best, a couch. Granted, I haven't done the May 24 fishing trip in years, but for a while it was a regular thing. Since then, like most long weekends, it's been about laundry. But it's the outboards and live bait I remember.
My daughter spent the weekend at a friend's trailer, building her own May 24 associations. So I was at loose ends. So I packed a fair bit of training into a weekend of glorious weather, though what might be most important is what I took a pass on.
It was my brother-in-law's birthday. Big surprise party out in Belleville. Martyn is the most decent guy who ever married a sister. But I knew it was going to be a weekend of music (great), drinking (not so great) and smoking (potentially fatal). I've quit too recently to take the chance I might fall off the wagon, so I had to decline. I'm hoping to one day be forgiven.
Took a ride along the waterfront trail out west to the Ex and a little past, where I found a great little spot to do hill repeats. It's the lead-up to a bridge across Lakeshore Blvd. at about Roncesvalles, a steep little hillet that's about 20 seconds up. Coast back down the other side, ride back 30-odd yards, repeat. After about 10, I was ready to go home. A spring shower gave me the excuse.
On the way back, I heard an air horn behind me, so I pulled off to the right. Somebody positively blew by me on roller blades. About 6'5", maybe, very cut, long-legged and wearing a lycra Spiderman onesy. I kept pace after he passed me, but didn't make up any ground until he got into traffic. (Hey, I'd been doing hill repeats.) Finally caught him at a light.
"Man, you fly on those things," I gasped.
"I'm Spiderman today," he said. Then he took off. Never got a chance ot find out where he got the onesy.
Sunday was the official first day of training. According to my iPod app, I was supposed to swim 200 metres. I had time on my hands, and I was enjoying the pool at the Grosvenor YMCA, so I did 800. But I'm still not doing front crawl, my best sprint time translated to 100 yards is still about 2:40, and ... well, I think I can finish. I just think I'm going to be spending too long in the water.
However, one of the books I picked up put it this way: the swim is the shortest part of the program, the bikes the longest. Take 10% off your swim time, you save x-minutes. Take 10% off your ride time ...
So today, I finally got out on a ride with Rob, who dragged me all over hell's half-acre -- 30k up through Mt. Pleasant Cemetery, over through Rosedale, out to Bathurst. Coming back east along Broadway were a couple of long downhills ... I don't know how I kept from howling. They were the kind where you pick up so much speed you don't realize it until a car brakes in front of you and your own brakes squeal when you have to stop. Hills that make you feel like a 12-year-old. When I was a kid and I took hills like that on my CCM five-speed, I'd pretend I was flying a fighter plane. And it's the weirdest thing ... I could smell two-stroke engine and live bait.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Is this a taper week?
For a first-timer, the accepted training time for a sprint triathlon appears to be 12 weeks. As I was in no shape, back at the Easter weekend when I decided to undertake this nonsense, to take on that kind of training program, I decided to devote eight weeks to getting fit enough to train -- pretraining, if you will.
Week 7 is over.
In a week's time, I have to start adhering to a tri-oriented training program. So, I guess this coming week should be a taper week, just like before a race you're training for.
So, in the pool, no worrying about yardage (though I did more than 1,400m this week, 600m today). Strictly technique, like getting my face to stay in the water. I haven't had much luck with that; breathing has been my bane, both in the pool and on the track, the whole time. So I guess I'd better start yoga on Mondays next week, 24 or no 24. (I'm pretty sure Jack Bauer can save the world without me.) I can probably finish 400m swimming breast stroke, but right now I'm swimming 100m in about 3:35. That's just too slow, even if my only goal is to finish. It's almost 15 minutes in the water, and I don't want to do that.
On the track, no pushing it. Probably just 500m or 1k and then a trip to the weight room. As for biking, if I go out for a leisure ride, that'll be fine. If not, that'll be fine, too. Might be a good chance to take my bike in for some tweaks. I did a little work myself last weekend, putting on pedal clips and adjusting the front derailleur, so I'd like to take it for a stretch first.
It's difficult -- *really* difficult -- to ease up on your training, especially when you've come from pretty much nothing in terms of conditioning and are seeing improvements almost every session. But it is absolutely necessary. Or so I've read.
Week 7 is over.
In a week's time, I have to start adhering to a tri-oriented training program. So, I guess this coming week should be a taper week, just like before a race you're training for.
So, in the pool, no worrying about yardage (though I did more than 1,400m this week, 600m today). Strictly technique, like getting my face to stay in the water. I haven't had much luck with that; breathing has been my bane, both in the pool and on the track, the whole time. So I guess I'd better start yoga on Mondays next week, 24 or no 24. (I'm pretty sure Jack Bauer can save the world without me.) I can probably finish 400m swimming breast stroke, but right now I'm swimming 100m in about 3:35. That's just too slow, even if my only goal is to finish. It's almost 15 minutes in the water, and I don't want to do that.
On the track, no pushing it. Probably just 500m or 1k and then a trip to the weight room. As for biking, if I go out for a leisure ride, that'll be fine. If not, that'll be fine, too. Might be a good chance to take my bike in for some tweaks. I did a little work myself last weekend, putting on pedal clips and adjusting the front derailleur, so I'd like to take it for a stretch first.
It's difficult -- *really* difficult -- to ease up on your training, especially when you've come from pretty much nothing in terms of conditioning and are seeing improvements almost every session. But it is absolutely necessary. Or so I've read.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
My First Brick
After the episode with the bike mechanic who called putting an aerobar on a hybrid "retarded," I thought I'd try elsewhere. So yesterday, after spending the morning cleaning -- serious cleaning -- I decided to wander up to Cycle Solutions on Parliament, with aerobar in hand, and ask if they thought I was retarded. (On the way up Parliament, I bumped into a protest march several hundred people strong. Jeez, I thought, they really don't want me to put on aerobar on this bike. Turned out it was the No One Is Illegal May Day March.) The bike fitter at Cycle Solutions did not call the idea retarded. Sure, he said, we'll put a straight bar in, and whatever compatibility issues there are, we'll work something out.
But I realized this morning that I shouldn't be getting my hardware tweaked if I'm not riding it in the first place. So after the rain stopped, I saddled up. The plan was out to Woodbine Park, lock the bike, run a kilometre, then ride back -- a brick workout of sorts.
For a change, things went pretty much to plan. I cut a pretty brisk pace out to Woodbine. It also gave me a chance to practice passing without drafting. In a triathlon, you can't draft off another rider, letting him cheat the wind for you; you have to maintain a three bike-length distance. Once you creep into that three-bike-length zone, you've got 15 seconds to execute your pass. The riders I passed weren't exactly traveling at race pace, but it was a useful exercise.
Off the bike, I'm pretty sure I didn't make it a kilometre. But I didn't feel uncomfortable switching from bike to run. It wasn't the classic T2 transition -- nobody stops to lock his bike and helmet to a stand at Kona, I'm pretty sure -- but it was ... well, fun. And good practice. And I'm marking the run down as a kilometre in my log anyway.
BTW ... Been checking my weight and body fat percentage per my log book. After remaining pretty much exactly the same for three weeks, I discovered this week I'd gained three pounds and my BF percentage had gone up a full point. In the absence of any other suspects, I'm blaming the Bacon-Infused Angus Burger at the Jersey Giant. Darryl actually grinds two pounds of bacon into the ground beef, and tops each patty with Cajun-battered onion rings. As I felt my left arm go numb ...
But I realized this morning that I shouldn't be getting my hardware tweaked if I'm not riding it in the first place. So after the rain stopped, I saddled up. The plan was out to Woodbine Park, lock the bike, run a kilometre, then ride back -- a brick workout of sorts.
For a change, things went pretty much to plan. I cut a pretty brisk pace out to Woodbine. It also gave me a chance to practice passing without drafting. In a triathlon, you can't draft off another rider, letting him cheat the wind for you; you have to maintain a three bike-length distance. Once you creep into that three-bike-length zone, you've got 15 seconds to execute your pass. The riders I passed weren't exactly traveling at race pace, but it was a useful exercise.
Off the bike, I'm pretty sure I didn't make it a kilometre. But I didn't feel uncomfortable switching from bike to run. It wasn't the classic T2 transition -- nobody stops to lock his bike and helmet to a stand at Kona, I'm pretty sure -- but it was ... well, fun. And good practice. And I'm marking the run down as a kilometre in my log anyway.
BTW ... Been checking my weight and body fat percentage per my log book. After remaining pretty much exactly the same for three weeks, I discovered this week I'd gained three pounds and my BF percentage had gone up a full point. In the absence of any other suspects, I'm blaming the Bacon-Infused Angus Burger at the Jersey Giant. Darryl actually grinds two pounds of bacon into the ground beef, and tops each patty with Cajun-battered onion rings. As I felt my left arm go numb ...
Friday, April 30, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, April 23, 2010
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'.
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'.
Monday, April 19, 2010
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.)
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.)
Friday, April 16, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, April 12, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
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.
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)
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.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
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.
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.
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