Journey to Kona Day 237: An Epic Day, Ironman St. George 2012 IM #3

Twelve days to Kona and today I'm reflecting on the epic 2012 Ironman St. George.  My journey to St. George for the third time began in October of 2011, http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2011/10/another-journey-to-st-george.html, when I realized that I really did want to continue on my Ironman journey.  Six months later, I was in St. George, along with 80 other athletes who had completed the first two races there.

Just before the gun went off for the mass start the water was as smooth as glass, and it looked like it would be a calm and pleasant day.  I'll never forget my swim start, I was flying!  It wasn't long before I found out why, we were swimming in a tempest!  My race report tells the entire story.  It's a very long read, and I've actually thought about writing a book about this race over the years.  If you're interested in reading about the most difficult Ironman in the history of the sport, here it is: http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2012/05/2012-ironman-st-george-race-report.html

For some time after the race I found myself in an unusually calm state of mind.  The feeling of having a near death experience, combined with the satisfaction of completing such a difficult race, gave me an inner confidence and peace that I've rarely felt.  Unfortunately, life ultimately took back over and I slipped back into the daily struggle to find that inner peace.  Rereading my race reports and other blogs from 2011 and 2012 have reminded me of the fact that I really didn't know who I was and what I wanted and needed back then.  I had retired, but I hadn't found my true purpose and balance in life.  That's actually been a constant battle for me my entire life.

I often say that Ironman is a metaphor for life, and my daughter Raishel said to me today, "does that mean we're often getting kicked in the head?"  After I stopped laughing, I realized that in some ways she was right.  To be a successful Ironman athlete, one has to be good at being in the moment, which means moving on after we've been kicked in the head.  While there are a lot of "lonely" points along the Kona Ironman course, who wouldn't want to be swimming, biking and running in Kona at any given point along the way?  When I went to Kona last year to cheer on my friend Robert Key, I felt that inner peace again. I'm looking forward to feeling it this Friday, during my stay, and as long as I can hold on to it after Kona.

I'll be wearing my finishers cap from the 2012 Ironman St. George during my run in Kona.  It's only fitting.  While every Ironman that I've ever done has special meaning, this epic day will never be far from my consciousness.  It has been and always will be my definition of what Ironman is all about!

Journey to Kona Day 236: Ironman St. George 2011, IM #2

13 days to Kona, and today I reminisce about Ironman St. George 2011.  It was my second Ironman.  Here is my race report: http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2011/05/ironman-st-george-race-report.html

The first thing I noticed when reading my race report was the fact that I had already begun writing my race reports prior to the race!  I didn't remember when I started this practice, but it's something that has been of great help to me in regards to visualizing my race.  I'm a big believer in visualization.  Writing ones race report in advance is a great way to do this.  It's then kind of fun to compare the "pre-race race report" with the actual final race report, which I finally did in Boulder this year.  

The 2011 Ironman St. George was an opportunity for me to get a second chance.  I entered my first Ironman a year earlier with multiple challenges, not the least of which was recovering from a hip and clavicle fracture.  It had also been my first Ironman, and lessons were to be learned. I still harbored the idea that I could qualify for Kona.  My swim was solid, my bike was solid, and I'd had some pretty good run results.  I also took time off to train, although, as has been usual for me, other life situations had gotten in the way.  That's been one of the great discoveries on

my journey to Kona this year.  I haven't let anything else get in my way.  I've been doing the training, and can't point to a lack of training in any of the disciplines.  In 2011, my training was pretty good, but in retrospect, I didn't have the peace of mind in my life to truly allow me to focus on my Ironman training.

I had a solid swim, improving by one minute over the previous year.  I had a very solid bike, improving by 25 minutes.  My transitions were dramatically faster, as I figured out how to take my sprint triathlon transition skills into an Ironman.  And then I got to the run.  Once again the run kicked my butt.  I wrote about it, "One thing is notable, I’m not upset by how I feel. I’m not disappointed. I’m not discouraged. It is what it is and I will persevere."

I remember having the presence of mind during the run not to get down on myself.  I pulled off another 5 hour marathon with a walk/run strategy.  It was good enough to improve my overall Ironman time by 33 minutes in a year where the course conditions were actually worse than the year before (high winds and heat).  Who would have thought that the following year would have even worse conditions?

As I finished my second Ironman, I wasn't sure what was next.  I even told my wife that I wouldn't do another Ironman until she told me it was ok to do so.  I no longer felt like I had to try to qualify for Kona.  In fact, I felt that I had done one of the most, if not the most, difficult Ironman's in the world already.  Why did I need to do Kona?  St. George was difficult enough.  It turned out that the following year 80 people who had finished in 2010 and 2011 would start the race.  Only 26 would finish.  That's tomorrow's story.

Journey to Kona Day 235: Ironman St. George 2010, IM #1

Wow!  14 days to go before the Ironman World Championship in Kona.  It's beyond real.  Today I begin my countdown by reflecting on the 14 Ironman's that I've done in the past ten years.  My coach once told me that you don't really get comfortable and knowledgeable about Ironman racing until you've done at least five.  I think I'm still learning from each one I do.  Kona will only add to those experiences.  But today I get to remember my first Ironman.  I've written race reports for every IM that I've ever done, which makes it a little easier to go back in time and recall the race.
http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2010/05/st-george-ironman-race-report.html

The thing that still sticks out to me today was the nervous excitement of race morning.  I'd first contemplated doing an Ironman in 1992 when I did my first triathlon.  Eighteen years later, nearing my 51st birthday, and just 6 months removed from fracturing my left hip socket and clavicle, I was really going to do it.  In many ways, I can still savor the feeling of race morning, of the mass start (there were still mass starts back then), of hearing Mike Reilly announcing that morning.  It was dark, but as the sun came up over Sand Hollow Reservoir, it was electric.  This was the first Ironman to be held in St. George, and that made the experience all the more special.  Two evenings before, they held a banquet in the Convention Center.  Sitting at a table with other first time Ironman participants, as well as meeting others like Susan Haag who was doing her 50th!  I'll never feel the same way at an Ironman banquet as I did that evening. In fact, I generally don't go to them anymore.  I'll never be able to duplicate the feeling that I had on race morning.

When the gun went off, I got kicked in the head.  I was used to that back then.  Ironically, the mass start swim at St. George wasn't that congested.  No one wanted to wade into the 52-58 degree water any sooner than they had to.  In fact, most of the swim was uneventful, and I swam just under 1:12. Not bad for my first Ironman!  It was cold, though, and it turned out that there was a fairly high DNF rate from the swim itself, as a number of people became hypothermic.  The slower your swim time, the greater the chance that your day was finished before it started.  I'll never forget the tent in transition, I felt like Tom Hanks when he first comes out of the water on Omaha Beach in Saving Private Ryan.  The tent was steamy due to the cold air, and everyone was numb from the cold water.  It took me about 10 minutes to get myself ready for the bike, and within the first mile, I dropped my bottle of nutrition!  Fortunately, I knew well enough to stop and pick it up, losing perhaps 30 seconds, but saving myself from getting into a caloric deficit early on.

The greatest lesson from St. George was that hypothermia on the swim, and cold weather in particular, leads to increased metabolism and caloric intake.  While I took in plenty of calories, by mile 80 of the bike, the light switch flipped off.  In retrospect, I should have slowed down and increased my nutritional intake.  I kept pushing. It was a lesson that took me several IM's to learn.  Nevertheless, I persevered.  By the time I got to the run, however, the ability to run the whole marathon, on what was and probably still is to this day, the toughest ironman run course ever, was off the table.

Somehow, I knew enough how to deal with this adversity.  I started walking every uphill section.  And, running every downhill section.  Fortunately, on the original St. George run course, there were no flat sections!  Ultimately, I figured that I ran 13.1 miles and walked 13.1 miles.  Remarkably, my marathon time was just under 5 hours.  Quite respectable for a first time Ironman, especially considering my run preparation had been hampered by a hip and pelvic fracture.

Coming down the finishing chute at Ironman St. George in 2010 was a feeling that I'd never felt before, not in my first marathon, not in any race.  Hearing Mike Reilly say "Michael Wasserman, You Are An Ironman," was the single greatest feeling at that moment.  I will admit, while subsequent Ironman finishes aren't quite the same, this is a feeling that never gets old.  It's remarkable that, no matter how fatigued one is in the final miles, there is energy to be found in the Ironman finishing chute.  I look forward to experiencing that feeling in Kona, and I know it will be uniquely special.

Journey to Kona Day 234: Seeking Out Hiromu Inada

I went to Kona last year to cheer on my good friend Robert Key, who was competing in the Ironman World Championship through the Legacy Program.  One of the bonuses of my trip was being able to watch Hiromu Inada become the oldest person to finish the race.  A fascinating thing about his journey is that he didn't even do his first triathlon until he was 70, and first raced at Kona at the age of 78!  There are very few people in the world that I would love to meet, but Hiromu Inada is at the top of the list.  I've been trying to reach out to try to connect with him.  I'll continue to seek him out when I arrive in Kona next Friday.   Meeting him and getting a photo with him would be awesome!

Over a decade ago, Jeremy Bloom founded the Wish of a Lifetime Foundation.  Its' mission is to shift the way society views and values our oldest generations by fulfilling seniors’ dreams and sharing their stories to inspire those of all ages.  As a geriatrician, and someone who has dedicated his life to improving the lives of older adults, I am all too aware of the pervasive nature of ageism in our society.  One of the reasons that I do Ironman is to show that getting older doesn't have to be associated with declining physical function.  I've long promoted exercise as a much more effective "pill" than most of the prescription pharmaceuticals available today!  Hiromu Inada embodies this concept.  

As I post this blog today, I'm associating it with a fundraiser for the Wish of a Lifetime Foundation (https://www.facebook.com/donate/777704695998054/10220372831899198/). I'm generally hesitant about fundraising through social media, but I make exceptions for certain causes. Over the years I've focused my philanthropic efforts on highlighting the positive aspects of aging and older adults.  It's a tough sell, and charities that focus on older adults struggle to raise money.  I believe that one of the reasons for this is ageism itself.  We shouldn't hear doctors explain away a problem because "you're getting old," anymore than we should hear such an excuse for any malady or problem an older person has.  Hence, the need for organizations like Wish of a Lifetime.

In many ways, I'm living my own "Wish of a Lifetime" with my trip to Kona this year!  This has been a nearly thirty year dream for me.  But it's more than a dream, it's very much related to the purpose that I've found in my life.  I often talk about another effective "pill" that I like to prescribe being the "purpose pill."  There is plenty of evidence-based literature demonstrating the value of purpose in our lives.  Ironman is a purposeful endeavor for me.  Meeting people like Hiromu Inada takes on its own purpose, insofar as he highlights many of the things that I believe in.  Watching him throughout the day last year and seeing him at the finish line carried great meaning to me and I recently realized that I don't want to miss the opportunity to actually meet him this year.

My journey to Kona has had a lot of personal meaning in relation to seeing what my 60 year old human body can achieve.  It has helped to ground me at a time when I haven't been as certain of who I am and what my own purpose is.  Associating my own dream with fundraising for Wish of a Lifetime just makes sense to me.  Seeking out Hiromu Inada brings everything into focus.

Journey to Kona Day 233: Qualifying for Worlds in 2008

With 16 days to go before Kona, I'm thinking about a race I needed to qualify for, and what it took to get there.  In 2008, I decided that I wanted to try to qualify for the 2009 Long Course World Championship in Perth Australia.  The qualifying race was in Boulder City, Nevada.  Ten days before that race, I wrote my first blog.  In relation to my taper for Kona, this quote stood out: "Ten days to go. We'll see what my coach gives me to do, I always follow his instructions and it has almost never led me astray. I tend to set a PR at over 70% of my races for the last three years." The rest of the blog is both interesting and ironic, as I see many of the elements in my first blog the I've been writing about for the last 233 days, and the last 11 years for that matter! I wrote about a swimming breakthrough in that first blog, http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2008/10/swimming-breakthrough.html. It's funny how my comments eleven years ago sound so similar to what I'm writing today. Ten days later, I raced the 2008 Halfmax National  Championship.  I needed to finish 10th in my age group in order to qualify for Long Course Worlds.  It's fun reading my race report 11 years later, http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2008/10/halfmax-race-day.html. I even had my typical pre-race "injuries":  "On Friday, woke up feeling better, did my bike and run workouts and somehow managed to pinch a nerve in my neck. I spent the whole day trying to work out this pinched nerve! Also, my left low back was sore." How many times has the same thing happened to me over the years? It's even more fun reading my "post-mortem" from the race, http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2008/10/race-post-mortem.html. Do we ever really change as human beings?  Rereading my blogs makes me wonder.  


The journey to qualify for World's was my first major triathlon goal.  It was essentially a one year journey.  It's ironic to look back as I'm about to go to Kona in what has been a ten year journey.  When I first did an Ironman, the idea was to be able to qualify for Kona, but the competition is far more intense than for World's.  By the time I completed Ironman Lake Tahoe in 2013, the Legacy Program was in place and my journey for qualifying through the Legacy Program had begun.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself.  In two days, I'll begin my journey down memory lane as I reflect on all 14 Ironman's that I've finished in my sixth decade of life (50-59).  Today, I'm reflecting on my initial journey to qualify for Long Course Worlds in 2009.

I have to admit, even in 2009, qualifying for Worlds was not going to be an easy achievement for me.  I was still "only" good enough to win the occasional local sprint triathlon in my age group.  I generally finished in the top 20% of my age group in sprint to half ironman races.  However, I definitely was not at the top.  As I've written before, I just couldn't run with the guys at the top of my age group, who at that time were clicking off 6-7 minute miles with regularity.  With that said, in 2007 I'd run a half marathon at 7:05 pace.  In 2008, right after my 49th birthday, I ran my only sub-20 minute 5K ever.  I was prepared to compete for that World's spot when I drove to Boulder City, Nevada in October of 2008. 
The thing I remember most about the Halfmax race in Boulder City was the swim.  The water was clear, I felt so comfortable in the water, andI literally felt like swimming fast was easy that day.  I ended up having one of my best half ironman swims.  Not fast enough to be at the very top of my age group, but fast enough to be competitive.  

The bike was incredibly hilly, not only throughout the bike course, which it was, but finishing with a 1000 foot climb (and a net elevation gain of 1000 feet).  While my bike training had been solid, it wasn't solid enough to have me come off such a challenging bike in great run shape.  My quads hurt the entire run, yet I persevered, which is something I've always been good at.  I needed to be in the top ten in my age group, and when I finished and looked at the results, I was 10th!  

The great thing about training for Long Course Worlds in 2009 was that I knew it was also a springboard to my first Ironman, Ironman St. George, in 2010.  What I didn't know was that I was going to have a bike crash during the first 1/2 mile of Long Course Worlds.  I rode 48 miles and then walked 3 1/2 miles before going to the hospital with what turned out to be a fractured clavicle and (non-displaced) fractured left hip socket.  My only DNF, yet, one of my proudest "achievements." http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2009/10/

Six months after my bike accident, I was in St. George, Utah, for the first ever Ironman held there.  In two days I'll start my Kona countdown by reflecting on that race. Tomorrow, I'll make a slight diversion from my recent posts and talk about Hiromu Inada, the Wish of a Lifetime Foundation (https://wishofalifetime.org), and the need to fight against ageism.

Journey to Kona Day 232: Being in the Zone

With 17 days before Kona, I'm reminiscing about key triathlons that I've done over the years.  2008 was my last year in the 45-49 year old age group, and I put my focus on trying to qualify for Long Course Worlds in 2009 in Perth, Australia. The year started off with a sprint Triathlon in Denver, the Tri4Me.  It was a cold April day, but it was one of my most memorable triathlons ever.  I'm not sure how it happened, but I found myself "in the zone" that day. It was an early season sprint triathlon, and I didn't even consider tapering for it.  Yet, I ended up having the best race of my life.  Following are my notes from that race:

"Felt pretty good this morning. Minimal warm up allowed, able to get in only about 50m. Focused on form throughout swim, kept effort moderately hard, never felt like I was redlining it, kept ~1:30 pace/100 METERS (yes, per 100 meters); felt fine coming out of water, tried to put arm warmers on, but arms wet, so decided not to. Good Transition. Bike was pretty technical, with lots of turns, very windy, very cold, kept wattage ~200-220 when I could, last lap (4 lap course), definitely kept wattage up over 220 a good portion, again when not turning or slowing down, or trying to keep from getting blown over, HR was 150-154 throughout the bike. Normalized Power=188, but hard to judge due to lots of slowing down on the turns and winds. 10.6 miles in 29:12, ~22mph. Got to T2, found out I was 30 seconds behind the guy in front of me (George Dallam, one of the top men in my age group, he beat me by 5 minutes at the Fall Frenzy last year!), he started 10 seconds before me, but I still wanted to catch him, got him in my sights within the first 400 and then gradually reeled him in, drawing even after about 1 1/4 miles, he tried to push me on the uphill, but actually, it wasn't hard for me to stay with him. Every time he started to push, so did I. What I didn't do was try to push him. One reason was that I knew that I had a 10 second cushion, and that if I finished with him, I had him beat. In retrospect, from a racing perspective, it would have been interesting to try to push the pace on him rather than react to him. That said, I sprinted at the end, got a step on him, but so did he (with longer legs) and he edged me by a nose (literally!) at the finish line. It was cold, my fingers were numb and blue, and my feet were numb, but that didn't stop me on the run. My HR stayed between 150 and 155 on most of the run, not sure if affected by the cold weather. The run was short, only 2.1 miles, which I did in 15:04 (7:10 pace)."

There were a number of remarkable things about this race. It was cold! At the end of the race, I literally had icicles forming on my nose. But the one thing that I will never forget, was running uphill with one of the best people in my age group (and someone who actually wrote a book about triathlon training!), having him try to put pressure on me, and I felt like laughing! I literally thought it was funny that he was trying to push ahead of me. Honestly, I'd never felt that way before, and I have rarely felt that way since. While it was a local race without a lot of people, I actually finished 2nd overall. It was starting to snow during the run! This race gave me the confidence that anything was possible for me doing triathlons.

I've been "in the zone" doing sports a few times in my life. I once shot an 85 while golfing, literally 13 strokes better than my next best golf result. The explanation for that day was simple, I was preoccupied with work and never "tried" to hit the ball well! I once bowled a 275, starting with 10 straight strikes. It was only when I realized what I was doing and put a little extra effort into it, that I finally didn't get a strike. Later in 2008, I ran my only sub-20 minute 5K ever, on my 49th birthday, closing strong with a 6:13 final mile, where I had a similar feeling about being invincible. I've had moments during other races, and even during some Ironman races, where I overcame my central governor, where I suffered mightily and didn't let down. But the feeling of invincibility that comes with being in the zone is unique, and it's something to savor. I still wear the t-shirt from the 2008 Tri4Me, and it's a reminder that "being in the zone" is always a possibility!

Journey to Kona Day 231: The True Story of My First Bike Crash (and first half ironman)

I did my first sprint triathlons in 1992 and 1993.  I was trying to train for longer distances in 1992 and ended up with pneumonia.  Hmmm, maybe I pushed too hard too soon.  Story of my life perhaps? June of 1993 came and I did a sprint triathlon in Ventura in preparation for Mike & Rob's Most Excellent Triathlon, an iconic Southern California half ironman at the time.  The week after the sprint triathlon, I was riding my bike to work (about a 10 mile ride each way).  As I turned the corner to my office, I suddenly wondered if I'd tightened my front wheel quick release enough when I put my back back together getting home that weekend.

Twenty five years later, I am actually telling the true story for the first time.  I've always been embarrassed to tell anyone that as I wondered whether the front wheel was secure, I decided (don't ask me why) to "test it" by lifting up on my front wheel!  The next thing I remember was being on the ground.  Lifting up the front wheel caused my wheel to come undone, and I went down head first (though I don't remember hitting the ground), breaking a bone in my wrist, cracking my helmet, bruising my shoulder and needing stitches on my face.  For those who know me now, this might all make sense, especially for my coach.  Fortunately, the hospital chaplain (from the hospital I worked at!) was coming out of the health club across the street when this happened.  He helped me and my bike into his car and took me to the emergency room.

Two months later, with my cast off my arm (I'd gotten a removable cast so I could still swim), I did my first half ironman, Mike & Rob's.  It was on a course similar to the Ventura Sprint.  I remember having a solid ocean swim, an uneventful bike ride in Ventura, along roads I'm very familiar with today, and actually survived the half marathon run at the end.  As I ran towards the finish line, my father in law actually ran with me for a very brief period of time.  I'll always remember that.  My family was there to cheer me on as well.  This was supposed to be a stepping stone to do a full ironman by the time I turned 40 (I was 35 at the time), but shortly thereafter we moved to Colorado and my work life changed.

I really thought that I'd be prepared to do an Ironman by 40.  The next couple of years actually saw me doing some sprint triathlons in Colorado (one where I actually started in the wrong wave and lost several minutes in doing so).  "Unfortunately," within a few years I was running a healthcare company and commuting to Florida every week.  I managed to maintain my running for awhile and ultimately did 9 marathons in the 1990's.  I still have the t-shirt from Mike & Rob's Most Excellent Triathlon.  I used to wear it a lot, and it's now torn, so it's officially retired from being worn.  That race will always be a reminder that life is full of twists and turns, but here I am twenty five years later and my dream of not just doing an Ironman, but competing in Kona in THE Ironman, is about to be complete.

Journey to Kona Day 230: Remembering My First Triathlon

With 19 days left before Kona, it's time to start reminiscing.  I've already decided that starting 14 days from Kona, I'll wear my finishers shirt from each Ironman that I've done.  I can also look back to my race report from each race as well.  It seems like a good way to "get in the mood" for Kona.  It's also a tribute to what it's taken to get me to this point.  It got me to thinking about my first triathlon, and in the next four days I'll write about some of the other races that have held special meaning to me.

The year was 1992.  I was 32 years old.  Prior to 1989, triathlon wasn't really in my minds eye.  Yes, I'd seen Julie Moss crawl across the finish line in 1982.  During medical school, I thought about taking up running, but never did.  My exercise had consisted of playing basketball, which usually led to some sort of injury.  I'd never run a mile non stop.  I started swimming at the local Jewish Community Center.  I had bought a bicycle.  I really had no concept of training.  I knew that at some point I had to start running.  I was somehow drawn to triathlon, and I knew that someday I wanted to be an Ironman.

I've written about how I built up my legs on a Stairmaster and then a treadmill.  I'd done a 5K. I wanted to do my first triathlon.  Lo and behold, there was a sprint triathlon in my hometown of Cerritos in April of 1992.  I bought clip-on aerobars for my touring bike.  I wore a Speedo. The Cerritos tri was what is now called a "reverse triathlon."  It started with a 5K run, followed by a 15K bike, and finished with a 200m pool swim.

I don't recall a lot about that first triathlon. I remember warming up, and I have vague recollections of people pulling on my feet on the pool swim.  I finished.  I don't remember what I felt like, except that I wanted to do another one of these.  My wife brought the kids along to watch, which was a big mistake.  Trying to keep an eye on a 5 year old and 1 year old while trying to catch a glimpse of me on the course was more stressful than it was fun.  Family spectating for my races was rightfully off to a poor start.  A year later, I did the Cerritos Tri for the second time.  I have photos of that race.  By this time, I'd bought my first triathlon oriented bike, a Cannondale R900 if I recall correctly.  At some point I set my sights on doing an Ironman by the time I was 40.  Unfortunately, life got in the way of that goal, but that's another story for another day.

Journey to Kona Day 229: Patterns

Being a Geriatrician has taught me how to look for patterns. One of the important things that I've learned over the years is that individuals are just a single dot on a much larger canvas.  From a scientific point of view, whether we're looking at the benefits of medications or treatment approaches, we are looking at an average response.  Every person in a drug study doesn't have the same response to a medication.  Our results are focused on the average response.  The same thing goes when it comes to exercise physiology.  There is no single response to all stimuli.  There is a broad range of responses.  That makes trying to make training predictions for individual athletes all the more difficult.  And so, as one of those individuals, we have to look for patterns.

A couple of weeks ago, I hit a "lull" in how I felt.  It briefly led me to believe that I needed to start cutting back. In fact, it was most likely my body's response to ramping up my training volume and overall stress.  During my rest and recovery period, I certainly hit points where I really don't feel good.  Then, like magic, I come out of the rest period and am even stronger and fitter than I was before.  Now that I'm into my official taper, I'm hitting my first point of that.  Having had another very solid week, in my recovery phase I've had some days where I really feel lousy.  Today became another one of those days, though perhaps for a different reason.  I might  be fighting a short term gastrointestinal bug.  Now, one of the reasons that I might even have such a bug could be a reduction in my immune system.  Or, my gastrointestinal tract might just be compromised as part of my training cycle and it's affecting me today.  It's hard to tell, but one thing that I do know is that this feels familiar.

I've got twenty days to go before Kona.  I have a "feeling" that I'll be feeling better in a few days.  That "feeling" is based on data and experience.  It's important that I work with my coach on these things, although the advantage of having the same coach for 14 years is that I generally know what he'll say before he says it.  Similarly, as an individual, we may not always be objective, and that's where having an objective second opinion is important.  Still, we must both look at the patterns.  So, I've spent the balance of my day resting, taking two naps, and limiting my food intake (an unfortunate necessity that based on previous experience with this type of a feeling will only last 24 hours).  And, continue to monitor for patterns.

Journey to Kona Day 228: Paying Attention to My Body's Signals

The plan today was to ride my bike and run.  I woke up around 6 am feeling tired.  I went back to sleep and woke up again around 7:30 am, and I still felt tired.  It actually brought back a memory.  At the 2014 Ironman Lake Tahoe, I woke up on race morning feeling tired.  Of course, I ignored the feeling, got ready for the race as if I felt fine, and planned to mentally override how I felt.  The day was memorable, because, with my toes in the water, they cancelled the race due to local fires and smoke.  I was actually somewhat relieved.  I drove home, signed up for Ironman Chattanooga the very next weekend, and had the best ironman of my life.  In fact, what I'll never forget about Chattanooga was how good I felt on race morning, as well as how good I felt at the end of the swim and bike!  The extra week of rest did wonders for me.  A year later, as I landed in Baltimore for Ironman Maryland, I found out that the race had been cancelled.  I was relieved.  I took off a few months completely before coming back for my next Ironman.  Listening to our body's signals are critical to our training and racing success.

Learning to train with fatigue is essential to successful ironman performance.  However, when one gets to the taper, that no longer is the point.  Now is the time to recover.  Forcing a workout when tired makes absolutely no sense at this moment, and I'm well aware of that fact.  Interestingly, during my last lull a couple of weeks ago, six days after my last long workout I was really tired as well.  I chose to swim long that day, but I also napped for two hours.  Since I've swam the past two days, today seems like a great opportunity to just rest.  I'll bike and run tomorrow, assuming that I'm feeling better, which I'm sure I will if I stick to my plan today.

Paying attention to the signals that our body sends us is the most important thing we can do in life and especially in ironman training.  Of course, sometimes that means going out for a long run anyway despite feeling tired.  Those workouts ultimately pay off on race day when we have the neuromuscular memory of running with fatigue.  However, at this point of the process, that would be the wrong choice. And so I choose to rest.

Journey to Kona Day 227: Swim Musings

On Tuesday, I rode my bike for 90 minute and ran for thirty.  On Wednesday I "only" did a long swim, 4000 yards broken up into 500 yard sets, for a total of 70 minutes of actual swimming.  1000 yards were with paddles, while using a pull buoy and a band around my ankles to keep me from any sort of kick.  I've been using paddles for the past month or so, in order to build up my upper body swim strength.  I've also been feeling the impact of the paddles.  My left shoulder even felt a little sore towards the end of my workout.  Enough of paddles for now.  In fact, with 22 days to go, there's more risk using the paddles than benefit at this point.  Today, I only had a half an hour to swim, so I jumped in the pool (actually, I never jump.  I sit on the edge, putting water on myself, in order to get used to the initial chill of the pool), and swam continuously for 1750 yards (one mile). My goal was to swim at a "comfortably fast" effort and pace.  In fact, this is my Ironman swim effort.  I should be able to hold this effort for 2.4 miles.  Considering that I did a solid swim yesterday, and I'm only at the beginning of my fatigue reducing tapering efforts, I had no expectations today.

It's always interesting how the first 100 yards of swimming is usually my fastest pace.  I'm fresh, and although I'm trying not to go too hard, I tend to swim a little harder than I realize before falling into a routine pace. The key to my Ironman swimming is consistency.  This consistency requires a constant effort and attention to my form.  The pace itself will come along for the ride, so to speak.  My first 100 yard today was swum at about 1:35 pace.  My last 100 yards was swum at about 1:38 pace.  Everything else in between was between 1:40 and 1:48 pace.  My average pace for today's one mile swim was 1:45.  Most importantly was the fact that I could have swam another 1.4 miles and felt fine.  Next was that I got out of the pool feeling refreshed, rather than tired.

Today's swim pace corresponds to about a 1:12 Ironman swim.  That's where I used to be.  Of course, I wasn't wearing a swim skin, which I'll use for my swim lesson next week, nor was I swimming in salt water.  Kona is an ocean swim, and usually the elements are not too challenging.  I've set a goal of 1:10-1:15 for my swim at Kona, and I feel like I'm right on target.  Six days before Kona, there is a practice swim, so I'll not only get a chance to get comfortable with the swim course, I'll have an opportunity to see where my swim fitness is and what my approximate swim time will be.  I'm excited to do that.  The swim is the last thing to really taper on, although, to some degree I'm using my taper to minimize general fatigue, so how much I swim will really correspond to how I feel on any given day.  At the same time, I'll use swimming as a recovery tool in between my every three day brick workouts.

Looking back at my Journey to Kona, it actually began 30 years ago.  After I started practicing medicine, I took up swimming for fitness on a regular basis.  At the time, I really didn't pay attention to my swim speed, or even my form.  I actually enjoyed swimming, which I still do.  It was only after swimming for about a year that I begin to visualize the idea of triathlon and ultimately Ironman.  I bought a bike (a Centurion Pro Tour).  Next, I took up the stair master prior to getting on the treadmill and running.  Swimming came first.  It's only appropriate that swimming take on a priority as I prepare for Kona.

Journey to Kona Day 226: Tapering Niggles

Over the years, I've had all sorts of feelings during the tapering process.  As the body recovers, it seems as if it wants to do checkups on every part.  In doing so, it's almost as if there's a check list that needs to be gone through.  My check list started today with my left knee.  Every so often, my left knee feels a little sore in the morning.  This soreness almost always goes away after I go out for a bike or a run.  I felt it the other day, and it went away.  Today was a relatively easy day, with only a swim.  I'd done a lot of walking at the beginning of the week, and thought that might have contributed to my knee hurting.  So, I didn't walk (or run) today.  I have any number of salves and sprays that I put on the knee.  The pain was relatively localized, and didn't feel structural.  All in all, I made it through the day and the knee pain seemed to be on the road to improving.  I expect any number of aches and pains to hit me over the next few weeks.

My "favorite" niggle seems to localize in my low back/hip area.  It's a muscle that likes to spasm within a week of a race. Its most famous race, for me, was Ironman Chattanooga, where I actually PR'd, despite still feeling some residual soreness as late as race day morning.  Prior to Ironman Boulder this summer, both sides went into spasm.  The first one went about a week before the race, and the other side went a few days before.  Try as I may, I can't seem to keep these from happening.  However, I have a feeling that they won't happen prior to Kona.  Something just seems right as I ramp up, or from a tapering perspective, ramp down for the race.

Training for an ironman is associated with a ton of running, biking and swimming. With that training comes a constant flow of endorphins. Endorphins tend to mask pain.  As I taper, my endorphin level will be lower than normal, and hence that may bring on my niggles.  As the fatigue washes away, it's easy to become excited about the race.  Ironically, I'm going to do my best to avoid adrenaline in any way, shape or form.  Caffeine will not be in my diet until after Kona.  I suppose that means I'll have to wait until the morning after the race to have a true Kona coffee!

As always, Ironman imitates life.  We always have little aches and pains, and life's niggles come in many versions.  Taking them in stride is what matters. I know that I'm more ready for this race than I've ever been for any race in my life.  I think I'll just enjoy the niggles!

Journey to Kona Day 225: Playing it by Ear

During my taper for Kona it is essential that I play every day by ear.  Today, I rode my bike for 90 minutes.  My goal is to ride between 90 minutes and 2 hours every few days.  I'll follow up that ride with a 30-60 minute run.  Today I ran for half an hour.  That was enough.  I felt ok at the start of my workout today, but "just" ok.  In the spirit of recovery, I'm trying to maintain neuromuscular stimulation, but not at the expense of any added fatigue.  In fact, if I do these workouts right, they'll help me reduce my fatigue level.  It's a fine line.  Laying on the couch theoretically should help reduce fatigue, but I think that we all know that laying on the couch isn't good for us.  Active recovery is the operative word, while at the same time maintaining my fitness.  As soon as I'm feeling much better, I can even sprinkle in a little intensity. Just a little, lest I dig myself a hole that I can't get out of before Kona.

My bike ride felt good today.  I rode two loops of my hilly 11.2 mile course in my neighborhood.  I kept my intensity down to comfortable, and kept my heart rate reasonably low.  During my second loop, Thump!, I ran over something, and then, thump, thump, thump. My front tire flatted.  I've never had any confidence in fixing flats, but I've been working on it lately, mostly out of necessity, rather than choice.  My initial reaction was to call my wife to pick me up, but that thought lasted about a second.  This was a chance to test all of my equipment and flat fixing abilities.  I had my flat changed in about 10 minutes.  Not super fast, but if I ever flat during an ironman, I get 10 minutes of rest before heading back out on the bike.  Not too big of a deal in the big scheme of things!

I collect a ton of data with every ride.  My power output and heart rate were right where I want them to be at this point.  In fact, my effort on today's ride is consistent with my goal in Kona.  What's positive about that is that I have three more weeks to shed fatigue in order to feel even better at a similar power output.  That's encouraging.  I was only three days removed from my last long run today, so I know that I'm not fully recovered.  Speaking of recovery, I set out to run 6 miles, but decided to cut it to three.  I was still feeling some fatigue during my run, though my legs felt fine.  It is my goal to finish every workout feeling like I could do more.  That's something that my coach has pounded into me.

I'll be repeating what I did today every few days, and every time I do it, I'll play it by ear.  I've learned over the years to listen to my body, and now is the time to fully take advantage of that knowledge.  Come race day, in three weeks and three days, I'll use that same knowledge, whatever data I have available and my instincts to guide me.  That's playing it by ear!

Journey to Kona Day 224: It's Taper Time!

I spoke to my coach today, and I have a plan.  Every three days, starting tomorrow, I'll do a 1 1/2 to 2 hour bike ride, followed by a one hour run.  The intervening two days will essentially be rest and recovery days, which means they'll be good days to swim.  For tomorrow, for sure, my effort will be comfortable.  I want to make sure that my fatigue is being washed away before I allow myself to put in even a minute or two of intensity.  Once I'm feeling good, I can allow a little of that for neuromuscular stimulation purposes.  This will be a fairly simple, and repeatable, approach to my taper.  I can adjust the recovery days if I feel that I need more recovery time.  If I feel really good, I'll enjoy feeling good, and still make sure that I get my two recovery days.

What's really cool is this strategy means that I'll have these workouts tomorrow, Saturday, Tuesday, Friday, Monday and Thursday before getting on a plane to Kona two weeks from Friday.  Six more workouts before leaving for Kona makes this all the more real!  I take my bike to be transported next Tuesday, and I'll use my old tri-bike in the interim.  I'm tired today, but less than I was yesterday.  I'm looking forward to feeling the fatigue wash away and the energy begin to grow.

I've reviewed all fourteen of my previous ironman races and focused on Ironman Chattanooga in 2014.  To date, that was my PR.  I also didn't run much leading up to the race, for a number of reasons.  It was also a race that I hadn't signed up for, but when Ironman Lake Tahoe was cancelled, I got a bonus week of rest before Chattanooga.  Hmmmm, rest is good.

I took a nap today, and will do that whenever the opportunity arises.  It's taper time!

Journey to Kona Day 223: I'm Tired Part Duex

Looking back at my blogs, I realize that it's been a few weeks already since I began a stretch of blogs outlining my level of fatigue.  I was ready to shut things down, but it wasn't time.  I'm now within sight of the finish line, so to speak.  Kona is three weeks from this coming Saturday (today is Monday).  I woke up this morning feeling pretty good, but I should have known what was coming.  While my soreness regularly peaks 36 hours after a hard workout, so does my fatigue, as I've been discovering during this journey.  I only ran 16 miles yesterday, and I really didn't run hard, so I"m not surprised to find that I really have no soreness to speak of today.  On the other hand, the fatigue is hitting me tonight. I took advantage of a "day off" by getting back to hot yoga.  90 minutes of hot yoga certainly had some impact on me, but I was careful not to do anything that would cause me harm.  I also hydrated really well throughout the day.  I hope that in the aggregate, I achieve some detoxification as well as some gentle muscle stretching.

The fatigue I'm feeling tonight reminds me of the fatigue I felt three weeks ago.  I feel it deeply in my body.  That means that I've managed to push myself again over the last couple of weeks to create a situation where I can effectively recover and end up stronger.  That's one of the things that I love about this journey.  Seeing what my body can do.  At the age of sixty, I feel more prepared than I ever have for an ironman.  I feel both physically and mentally ready for the race that I've dreamt of doing for the past thirty years.  The fatigue I'm feeling today is actually encouraging.

It's time to be smart.  As I've written, what happens in the next 3 1/2 weeks is unknown.  What works one time, might not work another.  I do wish that I could bubble wrap myself, because I"m already in the time frame where I usually injure myself.  "Fortunately," my wife sprained her ankle a week and a half ago.  She says that she did it for me.  She took one for the team.  I hope that she's right, and something tells me that she is.  No injuries, no muscle strains, no upper respiratory infections.  I've been sleeping when I'm tired.  In fact, I had a good night of sleep last night and took a nap this afternoon.  Naps are key!  I've been eating pretty clean, and with a decrease in training coming next, there's no point in taking in empty calories.  Vegetables, protein, eating clean is the order of the day.

A couple of weeks ago, I was on the ledge, and my coach walked me off.  Since then I've done two major rides and two major runs.  This time my fatigue is both expected and timely.  I welcome the fatigue and look forward to eliminating it, allowing my body to recover and prepare for Kona.

Journey to Kona Day 222: The Ironman "Light Switch"

I'll never forget the feeling of a light switch going off during the bike portion of my first ironman in 2010.  I was around mile 80 on the St. George bike course, still with a considerable amount of climbing left, when it happened.  After fourteen ironman's I now know what it means and what to do. It usually means that you're not adequately nourished, or your fatigue level has hit a wall.  The solution is to slow down, eat, drink, and recover.  It's a long day and there's actually time to gain by slowing down.  Pushing hard is not only the wrong approach, but any short term time gains are overshadowed by far greater time losses later in the race.  During Ironman Chattanooga in 2016 I got dehydrated towards the end of the bike, and didn't realize it until I got to the first mile of the run.  But, I knew what to do.  I walked until mile 6, hydrated, nourished, and recovered.  I then ran the last 20 miles, passing most if not all of the people who had passed me while I was walking.

I encountered the "light switch" during my long run today.  I was following a strict MAF protocol for my run today.  I was solely focused on my HR and never looked at my pace.  The first mile was around 120 bpm, and my HR came up to ~130 by my third mile. The next eight miles saw my heart rate go up slowly, but still was mostly in the low 130's. I was sweating a ton, and probably not drinking enough.  Since the loops were 5.2 miles, and I only brought one bottle along to drink, I certainly wasn't getting enough fluids for the amount I was sweating.  That won't happen at Kona.  I'll be able to practice in hot yoga for drinking a ton while sweating a ton.  Still, my legs felt fine, albeit still fatigued from Friday's bike ride.

My run pace actually held very steady right around 10 minute per mile pace through 11 miles.  My heart rate was also ok, considering that it was getting warmer the longer I ran.  From a MAF perspective, my first 11 miles were excellent.  And then the light switch went off.  Miles 12-16 were a slog.  My heart rate was trying to increase, and I managed to keep it from going up too much as my pace dropped a full minute to 11 minute per mile.  The interesting thing was that I held that for five miles.  My legs were tired, with no soreness whatsoever. This was about fatigue, and possible hydration and nutrition.  However, to some degree, I think that this was the fatigue that I wrote about yesterday.  It was time to start my taper.  My 20 mile long run would be 16 miles today.  My three hour run, would be 2 hours and 45 minutes.  Physically, there was no reason to push further on either front.  I know that I can run a marathon.  I know that I can suffer with the elements.  I know that I can slog forward despite fatigue.

I hope that I won't feel the "light switch" go on during Kona.  But, if it does, I'll know what to do.  In the meantime, it's time to start my taper!

Journey to Kona Day 221: The Training and Fatigue Dichotomy

Yesterday was a remarkable day.  The six hours of cycling were compounded by extreme heat.  I woke up this morning and I was tired.  Not too tired, but tired nevertheless.  I drove to the pool, and as I prepared to get in the water, I looked over at the jacuzzi and thought to myself, I'd rather be there.  I swam for about 20 minutes, and the only thing that I could think of was how tired I was.  So, I got in the jacuzzi.  After getting back home, I alternated between laying on the floor watching television and taking a nap.  I was definitely tired.  At the same time, I felt no soreness.  The six hours on the bike left no major impact on my muscles.  But it did leave me quite fatigued, though probably more from the heat than from the cycling.  Preparing for an ironman is as much about off loading fatigue as it is allowing the muscles to heal and recover.

My present plan for tomorrow is to run up to 20 miles, and no longer than 3 hours.  The way I feel today, the idea feels a little daunting.  Not because my legs are sore, or even weak.  I'm just tired today.  However, I remember how I felt just a little more than a week ago, and how quickly I both recovered and did some heavy duty training.  Theoretically, I could rest another day and do my run on Monday. On the other hand, the epitome of ironman training is running with fatigue.

It's kind of funny.  Despite my fatigue today, I'm looking forward to running tomorrow. I want to maximize my fatigue before I start my taper.  And, I want to start my taper!  Somehow, I think that this dichotomy is a good thing.  I know that I will successfully be able to shed my fatigue over four weeks.  I also know that starting that four weeks of tapering without feeling sore is a good thing. I should be able to keep training in a way that keeps my muscles stimulated.  This should be fun.

There are four weeks left before Kona.  My coach and I will start working out my tapering plan on Tuesday.  I expect to feel pretty tired on Monday.  I know that I've been living a bit on the edge in terms of fatigue for a little while.  That's what ironman training is all about.  It's a remarkable test of the human body, physiology and spirit. We push ourselves, and we recover. We push ourselves some more and we recover some more.  When our key race is coming up, the dynamic changes.  Kona is more than my key race.  It's my dream, and I want so much to go into it at my best.  I want to see what I can do on the iconic course that is known to define the human spirit.  The course itself isn't that difficult, but the conditions are often epic.  There may be wind.  There will be heat and humidity. There will be lava fields and no shade.  It will be Kona. It's time to start getting ready!

Journey to Kona Day 220: Overcoming my Central Governor

29 Days until Kona and my last real long bike ride was today.  My coach suggested that I ride 112 miles on a relatively flat course.  The weather cooperated by simulating Kona without the humidity.  My goal was to keep my wattage low and comfortable, and hopefully keep my heart rate down as well.  I did a good job keeping my wattage down.  My heart rate did start to rise as the temperature went up.  Not much that I could do about that.  I managed to keep a consistent effort and a consistent pace for the entire ride.  I felt good the whole time, but did finally manage to hit a rough patch when I got to 100 miles. It was hot, although until mile 100 I really didn't feel too hot.  However, during miles 100-105 I finally hit the doldrums.  I felt like I was baking.  Ironically, I only slowed down by less than a minute during the loop.  And just to show that I can overcome my central governor, knowing that my last loop was my last loop, I was able to do that loop at an effort and pace similar to all of the earlier ones.  I didn't feel as hot.  The mind is an amazing thing.

I learned more about myself and my preparation for Kona today.  The heat and humidity are going to be the greatest challenge on race day.  I can begin to have a better understanding of what happened to Julie Moss.  Even the great Paula Newby Fraser succumbed one year to Kona.  When you ignore your central governor, you can accomplish great things.  On the other hand, you can outsmart yourself and end up on the ground.  The real challenge will be to stay hydrated and nourished, and know how and when to cool down enough to recover during the race. This ride gave me a pretty good idea of how my body will respond.  It's not perfect, because I didn't have the humidity to deal with. Still, I got a good idea of how my body felt and how it reacted.  At the same time, it's always good to know that we can temporarily overcome our central governor.  Unfortunately, doing so in the middle of a race is probably not a good idea.  The best time to do so is at the end of the race, but you'd better time it right, otherwise you end up crawling to the finish line!

Journey to Kona Day 219: Thirty Days!

Wow!  I started this blog 219 days ago.  There are now 30 days left to race day.  It's getting real.  In 22 days I will get on a plane and fly to Kona.  In one week, I'll probably officially start my taper. This journey has been a remarkable one.  When I started it, I was recovering from my first 100 mile event. That experience was both unique and profoundly impactful on many levels.  I was also recovering from a job experience that left me beaten up and unsettled.  There were times that I had questioned my own reasons for doing Kona. The last 219 days have helped bring a lot of things into focus.  My excitement for Kona has only increased, to the point that I now fully understand and appreciate that I am truly fulfilling a long held dream.

With thirty days to go, there are a lot of things I can do to screw things up.  I can do too much. I could get injured. I could fall off my diet.  There are a few simple things that I can do to come into Kona fully prepared.  I can not and will not miss opportunities to rest.  The ironman distance deplores fatigue.  I've already seen the value of reducing fatigue over a week ago when I took the greater part of a week off from training, leading to a couple of my best training days ever this past week.  I've learned the importance of having balance in my life and focusing on the things that truly matter to me.

Has the last 219 days been about Kona?  In many ways, it has been.  At this point, the next 30 days had better be about Kona.  I've hit the home stretch.  I'm looking forward to competing in the most iconic triathlon in the history of the sport. It's more than a race.  It's more than a healthy experience.  It's a metaphor for life.  In many ways, my approach to ironman reflects my approach to life, which is probably why I've gravitated to the sport.  Kona is where Julie Moss crawled to the finish line.  It's the ultimate stage where the best in the world compete.  It will be an honor to race in Kona.  Thirty days!

Journey to Kona Day 218: Threading the Tapering Needle

Taper time is coming soon.  I can feel it.  I nearly felt it a week ago, but managed to pull myself up off the floor and put in a solid week of training.  Today was a "rest" day.  No training, but essentially a twelve hour workday, consisting primarily of driving and flying.  I felt tired by the end of the day.  Not nearly as tired as I did a week ago, but the same type of tired.  Soon it will be time to officially start my taper.  To some degree, the transition is already beginning.  On Friday, I'll ride my bike for six hours, if all goes well.  However, I won't do any climbing.  I'll keep the ride mellow and just put in the volume and the time in the aero position.  Similarly, on Sunday, I plan to run twenty miles if all feels right. Again, no climbing, and I have permission to cut the run short depending upon how I feel.

As of Sunday, I'll have four weeks to go before Kona.  An ironman taper generally start at three weeks, but you have to pay attention to how you're feeling at four weeks in order to be able to effectively taper starting at three. Tapering is part science, part art, and part voodoo. Unfortunately, what works one time, may not (and probably won't) work the same way the next time. On a positive note, the week of rest I just took left me with the energy to pound out some incredible workouts over the past week. Still, I was carrying some fatigue.  If I can combine that type of response to the rest with truly reduced fatigue, I'll not only have the endurance for an ironman swim, bike and run, but I'll have the speed and power to produce my best results.

I've had the goal of not only experiencing Kona, giving it 100%, but having my best possible performance.  That would be cool!  No result will be disappointing to me, however, so long as I leave it all out there on the course. I remember doing the Boulder half ironman in 2009, having "tapered" by spending the week not training at all, barely getting 3 hours of sleep every night in the week leading up to the race, and having the maximal amount of stress due to the fact that we were filming a t.v. pilot (http://wassdoc.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-blossom-ironman-or-how-not-to.html).

So, with the help of my coach, I will thread the tapering needle and we'll see what happens in Kona!

Journey to Kona Day 217: Finding Myself

My wife recently told me that something's changed in regards to my general demeanor and attitude.  Ever since I was offered a part-time job to do things that I truly enjoy without the typical stresses that are normally attached to a job, something has clicked. Since last year when I walked away from my last job, something wasn't right. I wasn't sure what mattered.  I was unsettled.  Training for Kona has helped me to some degree, but even that didn't feel right until the job offer came.  I think the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.  Balance matters.  Ever since I got offered an opportunity to do the things I love, my love for training for Kona felt right. Ironically, I've had the best couple of months of training that I've ever had, and my fitness level is at an all-time high.

This journey to Kona has had a few twists and turns.  I've been learning things about myself.  In the past, I haven't been certain about how much I truly loved exercise, often "blaming" my addiction to triathlons on a combination of wanting to be healthy and satisfying my type A tendencies.  All of a sudden, as everything falls into place, things feel more natural.  I decided to spend 8 days in Kona prior to the race, to fully enjoy the experience.  It also allows me to participate in the practice swim the Sunday before the race.  The fact that I've signed up to do Ironman St. George, instead of retiring from ironman after completing Kona told me something. I'm already thinking about other races to do.

I really do enjoy ironman.  I really do enjoy the training. However, I also need the right balance, otherwise, everything doesn't fall into place.  It's kind of funny how that works.  I remember after I retired for the first time, I thought that my ironman training would explode.  But, it didn't.  I blamed it on being distracted by other things, including an entertainment business diversion.  In retrospect, I was unsettled again.  I didn't have my balance, and so nothing really made sense.  But now it does. I've found myself, and with that I've verified my love for the sport of triathlon and the pursuit of ironman experiences.

Journey to Kona Day 194: Harry B. Doyle, RIP

I just discovered that this blog didn't get published, it remained in draft form.  So, here it is.  And, it was a meaningful one.  I'm going to also take the opportunity to ask whomever reads this blog, or any of my other daily "Journey to Kona" blogs, to send me an email at wassdoc@aol.com.  I'm interested in knowing who has been following me on this journey.

During my run on Thursday at Cherry Creek State Park, I stopped at the bench honoring Harry.  He was an older runner at our track club, and he was faster than me.  He moved out of state, and the next year we’d learned that he had passed away.  It turns out that he died on my birthday, during a race, in 2004. Harry was one of those guys who was a natural ambassador for running. You just enjoyed being around him.  I remember hearing that he had died and was both saddened and taken aback.  I didn’t know at the time that it occurred during a race.  In many ways, that’s the way it should be.

Sitting on Harry’s bench, all I could think about was making the most of ones time.  How we spend our time on this earth matters.  It’s an interesting question as to what matters.  Lately, I find that I spend too much time feeling both annoyed and upset by what I read and hear in the media.  While my passion, which I’ve blogged about, leads me to respond on social media, how useful and effective is that time?  The ease to which information is available today might actually lead to being too up to date.  There isn’t a need to respond immediately to everything I see and hear.

I took a photo sitting on Harry’s bench.  I know that I can be a good ambassador for exercise, and that’s definitely something that I enjoy.  I will do my best to carry on positively and effectively in the spirit of Harry B. Doyle.

Journey to Kona Day 216: It's About the Run, Kind Of

I know that I can swim with a lot of the top athletes in my age group.  At Kona, if I have a decent swim, I'll be within 10 minutes of them.  At Ironman Boulder, my bike split was within 16 minutes of the top guys in my age group, with the exception of the winner.  Coming of the bike in Boulder, I was within 30-40 minutes of some of the best age group athletes in the world. I'm pretty damn proud of the fact that this once asthmatic kid, the one always picked last in team sports, has worked hard enough to be competitive in my age group at the ironman distance.  At least so far as swimming and biking is concerned.  But then we get to the run.

I often joke that the running craze in the 70's spawned a group of talented runners who have aged along with me.  I wasn't a runner in the 70's or the 80's.  I didn't start running until I was 32 years old.   My 5K times were decent, but were probably pedestrian compared to the guys I'm now competing with. Something tells me that these guys could run 3 hour open marathons, and the best I ever did was 3:35.  The fastest ironman marathon that I've ever run was 4:32.  The top guys in my age group can run sub-4 hour marathons at the end of an ironman on relatively "easy" courses.  At Boulder, these guys ran between 4:00 and 4:30, while I was running 5:13. The good thing about my Boulder marathon was that my legs felt good, my breathing just didn't hold up. I sometimes wonder if my childhood asthma has followed me all these years.

I've set a goal of running a 4:30 marathon at Kona.  Last year, under ideal conditions in Kona, a 4:30 marathon would have been 15th in my age group. A 5 hour marathon would put me smack in the middle of the age group, with the best age group athletes in the world.  I know that I'm capable of running between 4:30 and 5 hours.  I've never hoped to be competitive in Kona.  That's impossible. However, I feel like I can acquit myself well against the best in the world in my age group. I also think that my preparation for Kona will set me up for trying to be competitive next year. I've already signed up for Ironman St. George, and I'm confident that all of the hilly bike training that I'm doing, and will continue to do, will serve me well.  But, I'm digressing. With all of my talk about being competitive having to do with the run, there's a reason that I added "kind of" to the title of this blog.  My top potential marathon time won't stack up with the other athletes in my age group, if we're doing an open marathon.  Perhaps that might become a future goal.  In the meantime, there's a reason that the top Kenyan marathoners in the world aren't winning ironman events.  It's about how you run off the bike.

This is the reason that my coach has pushed me to focus on my bike training.  The better my legs feel coming off the bike, the smaller the difference between my open marathon time and my ironman marathon time. So, while my ability to be competitive in ironman comes down to the run, my opportunity to have the best run that I can have comes down to my bike training.  I had originally set out to do some super long bike rides during my training for Kona.  I'm hoping that what I haven't completely done from a bike volume (time on the bike) perspective, I've made up for with my attention to doing tons of climbing. With that said, my bike preparation for Boulder was solid, and my result speaks for itself.  Since Boulder, I've continued to build on that preparation.

Today I rode my bike for 6 hours and twelve minutes.  I could have biked longer, but I wanted to save something for the rest of the week. It's important to note that my legs were tired and a little sore (very little) when I got on the bike today.  I was less than 48 hours removed from a 3 hour and 52 minute hilly run.  That means that my 6:12 bike ride, with 1000 feet of climbing per hour, was performed on tired legs.  My coach often points out that adds to the value of such a workout.  My goal right now is to do another similar bike ride at the end of the week.  That will leave me with four weeks to go before Kona, and my coach and I can figure out what else to try to fit in.

The other really good news was that my short run today felt fine.  Was I tired? Sure.  Were my legs sore? No.  Did my legs feel ok to run after spending over six hours on the bike? Yes!  My recent 20 mile runs have helped to set this up, but at the end of the day, it's really my bike training that's making it work.  If you're going to be competitive in an ironman, it's about the run, kind of.

Journey to Kona Day 215: Where is the Truth?

My good friend and mentor, Ray Delisle, used to say that the truth was always in the middle.  Keeping in mind that the "middle" can be as large or as small as we want it to be, it's a pretty good adage to follow. For some reason, during my bike ride today, I was thinking about truth.  Why did this topic come up? Because I can never let myself get away from thinking.  It's what I do.  I like to think.  I like to think about the topics that have meaning to me and to which I've devoted most of my career.  I've written some articles in the past year for a long term care news outlook.  I'm starting to think about my next topic, and I think that topic has to do with the truth. We are bombarde on a daily basis by people who want to define the truth to us.  Their motives matter, because the truth to them is only what supports their goals and mission.

A few years ago, Sylvia Burwell, Secretary of Health and Human Services at the time wrote an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about the governments push to bring quality to health care by way of value based payment.  It was bullshit.  At the time, I wanted to write an opinion piece, but I was working for a quality improvement organization at the time and decided it probably wasn't wise to do so.  Let me be more specific.  She talked about a goal to have 90% of fee-for-service Medicare payments tied to quality or value by 2018.  This sounds great.  But what does it mean? It means that doctors were being required to add some codes to go along with their service codes when they billed Medicare.  These codes had some tie-in to so-called quality measures.  To the lay person, this might sound like the government was essentially linking its physician payments to value or quality.  What they were actually doing was adding extra work, not necessarily related to any evidence-based approaches to improving quality.  The government wants us to believe that they're working in our best interests. Sometimes they do, but this was, and to a large degree still is, just smoke and mirrors.

The nursing home industry would like you to believe that they have the best interests of the residents in mind.  This, by and large, is bullshit.  The owners of nursing homes throughout the United States care about one thing and one thing only, money.  That money is embedded primarily in the real estate that houses the most frail and vulnerable members of our society. I am all too aware of the decisions that go on behind the scenes that have a direct impact on the care delivered in nursing homes.  One would think that decisions regarding patient admissions should be made based on what is in the best interests of the patient. Nothing could be further from the truth.  It is rare that anyone with the necessary clinical skills to understand a highly complex patient population has anything to do with nursing home admission decisions.  In fact, sometimes, an owner might shift admissions to a specific facility in order to enhance that facilities numbers in order to get a loan based on the real estate. That's what really drives the long term care industry.

If the government has its own version of the truth, and owners of nursing homes have their version of the truth, what does that mean for the folks living in nursing homes?  It means that they need someone to tell the truth.  Sounds like the focus of my next article.

Journey to Kona Day 214: The Importance of a Coach

Ten days ago I was feeling fitter than I've ever been.  I was looking forward to a few more days of hard training before our week of babysitting, and then the final push before starting my taper for Kona.  Then, the bottom seemed to drop out.  After today, I can look back with fresh and objective eyes and see what transpired.  First of all, I spoke to my coach yesterday. We discussed my blog from the day before.  He quickly reined me in, noting that I'd only run once in ten days, and that might actually lead to some loss of run fitness.  That got my attention.  Being a good coach, he intuitively knew not to push that button too hard, lest I'd take it too seriously.  There's always a fine line when you're a coach, and Lucho is great at straddling the line between encouragement and criticism.  In fact, criticism is a word that I would say he almost never leans in to.  He came close yesterday, and it got my attention.  However, he used data to help me understand that I had been pushing a little too hard on some of my workouts.  Combining that 9 days ago with the upcoming reality of a week of babysitting a nearly 4 year old ball of energy, was enough to send me into an ongoing anxious state.

My dad emailed me today and used the word anxiety.  That's pretty accurate.  I've been training for Kona like I've never trained before.  It's important to me to give this race everything I've got. Why not?  It's a lifetime dream.  Going there and just participating is not who I am.  Going to Kona and having the best result possible depending on the circumstances is what I'm all about. Since I dramatically cut back my training last week in order to babysit, it was almost like a mini-taper.  The body's response to that is always challenging. The endorphins drop, and any anxieties are heightened.  Plus, the daily challenge of watching my grandson, while loads of fun, was certainly stressful, especially when underneath it all I knew that I could have been training.

I felt a huge relief after my call with my coach yesterday, and last night's blog spoke about that. I had an answer to my struggle over the past week.  That gave me confidence that today would be a good day.  What I didn't fully comprehend was the added benefit of no more babysitting!  It was like 100 pounds had been lifted off my back!  I decided to do the same run that I'd done 2 weeks ago.  A very challenging, very hilly run.  However, from the moment I began the run, I dedicated myself to not pushing too hard, and maintaining my heart rate below 140.  A truly MAF (maximum aerobic function) run would have me in this range. It's what I'd actually been thinking I'd been doing in the last several weeks on both the run and bike, but not really.  I'd been letting the intensity rise above MAF intermittently, which on a certain level is fine, but from the perspective of getting in as much volume of training as possible, has been counterproductive.

The cool thing today was that with my confidence back, and the weight of babysitting off, I felt like I had wings.  I enjoyed every minute of todays run. Well, maybe the last 45 minutes were a little more challenging, as the heat of the day increased into the mid eighties.  Nevertheless, for the first three hours (and essentially 16+ miles), I kept on target with my goal for the day.  Over the last hour, it was hot, I was tired, and I did let my heart rate increase into the 140-150 range, which by many criteria, is still not too high (zone 2 per Joe Friel).  I stopped at my daughters house with two miles left to replenish my fluids and electrolytes and grab some ice.  This made a huge difference on the final climb and getting back home.

I felt so good when I got home that I decided to ride one loop of my hilly bike course, all the while keeping my power down to less intense levels.  It felt great!  I've never done this after a long run, though I have done some easy spinning to loosen the legs and flush them out.  This was even better.  It also increased my confidence for tomorrow's long bike ride. I'd originally thought of doing tomorrow's ride on a flat course because of the intensity issue, but after today's run and bike, I think that I can handle more hilly loops in my neighborhood so long as I pay attention to my power output.

The title of today's blog kept changing as my workout progressed today.  My first thought was the importance of a good coach.  I then changed it to "getting off the ledge," which was how I felt last week. I finally was going to change it to "It's all about the run," which I think will be a topic for another day.  In the end, I realized that my successful workout today needed to be solely dedicated to my coach and the importance of having great coach in order to do this ironman thing properly!

Journey to Kona Day 213: Numbers Matter

One of the main reasons to have a coach is to have someone who can be objective when you're not.  In yesterday's blog I convinced myself of the need to start shutting things down.  It was definitely fatigue speaking but I wasn't paying attention to the data.  First of all, I've been chomping at the bit to train. That's not usually indicative of being on the verge of overtraining. Second, a couple of days of rest seem to help significantly. Third, I wasn't really paying attention to the numbers.  My coach pointed out that even during my recent 45 minute bike rides, I'm putting in several (if not more) minutes of intensity.  Considering where I am in my training, and that I'm training for an ironman, I not only don't need the intensity, but if it's knocking me down, I definitely don't need it!  However, that doesn't mean it's time to shut things down.  With five weeks to go, I should be still putting in volume, which is actually what I want to do.  That volume just doesn't have to be, nor should it be, too intense.

This weekend I will make my way to Westlake Village, where I can run and bike a five mile flat loop. I won't have climbs to power up.  I can focus on getting in volume, which I've been definitely doing, but without also putting in intensity.  My coach picked a 5 1/2 hour bike ride I recently did, and noted that the amount of intensity I did during this ride would have been a solid workout in and of itself!  I've also been stressed this week by babysitting chores, which added a layer to my fatigue.  Just recognizing all of this, or rather having my coach open my eyes to it, is already making me relax and feel better.

It's funny.  I collect all of this data, but I wasn't really paying attention to it.  That's why it's not only good to have the data, but it's also good to have an objective third party, in this case my coach, make sure that I'm using the data wisely.  Numbers matter!

Journey to Kona Day 212: It's Crunch Time

Five weeks and two days to go before Kona. The last week has been a struggle.  In some ways, I'm ready. In fact, I felt that I wished that the race were in 3 weeks and that I could start my taper.  But today I realized that might not be right. I'm feeling the cumulative fatigue of the entire year. The year began with my first 100 mile ultra, and then had one of my best ironman preparations for IM Boulder, where I had an excellent race.  I went from that to the Santa Rosa 70.3, where I had another excellent result.  I kept my foot on the gas pedal in preparation for Kona.  I've done more and higher quality preparation than ever.  I've been accomplishing things that I've never done before.  And I'm tired.

I remember 2014, the year I completed 3 ironman events and was actually ranked 11th in the world in my age group. That high ranking reflected my endurance and consistency.  The following year, however, was a year filled with fatigue and injuries.  In some respects, I feel that I've pushed myself pretty far this year.  I've grappled with emotional stress unlike any I've ever had.  It's taken a toll.  I am truly on the edge.  That should actually create an opportunity for me.

The key to an effective ironman taper is to get rid of the cumulative fatigue, while staying sharp.  I have five weeks and two days to get rid of the fatigue. That should be my primary goal.  Staying sharp is always a tapering challenge, and it's as much voodoo as it is science or even art.  It's ironic, but as I told my friend Rudy today that I wished Kona was only three weeks away, I immediately knew that I really didn't.  Three weeks won't be enough time to wash away the fatigue and effectively recover for my greatest challenge.  Five weeks should be enough time.  The trick is how to bring this plane in for a soft landing.

My blogs over the past week have delineated a lot of my thoughts on where my training is.  There is thing that I am certain of.  I can continue to accumulate swim volume and focus on my swim form, so that it becomes even more ingrained in my muscle memory. Swimming is the healthiest thing that I do, and todays 4000 yard continuous swim served to remind me that I can keep swimming despite my fatigue level, so long as I don't try to push intensity.  If I can "toe the line" at Kona well rested, my swim intensity will take care of itself on race day and I can have the type of swim that I now believe that I am capable of.

While training in heat has some benefits, the stress of biking and running in the heat is not well placed right now.  I think I finally understand that.  If I wanted to perform longer bikes and runs, it would be ideal for me to do in a cooler climate.  I need to keep that in mind and do everything in my power to stay cool despite the heat.  That means bikes and runs with ready access to cold fluids and ice.  If I want to acclimatize to Kona, which I still want to do, hot yoga is still going to be my best bet.

How much benefit do I get from a couple more long bike rides or runs? That is the sixty-four thousand dollar question.  I find it unlikely that, after ten years of ironman training, and a solid training year thus far, that a couple more long bike rides or runs will make much of a difference. I already had one of my best ironman bike splits in Boulder, at high altitude.  I've built on that with several long bikes over very hilly terrain.  More climbing will also not make a huge difference, and I may be best served at this point to finally allow myself to do some rides on flat terrain. The same may also apply to my runs, especially if it's hot out, which it will be for the foreseeable future.

Pushing too hard at this point can certainly cause more harm than good.  It's time for the soft landing. It's crunch time, but that means it's also time to be smart.  Recovery and washing out my fatigue will get me to a better place on race day than squeezing in a few extra hard or long workouts.  It's time to stay in the moment and get myself ready for Kona!

Journey to Kona Day 211: Balancing Act

This week has been challenging.  With less than six weeks to go before Kona, I can do myself more harm than good if I push too hard. I know that I've been writing a lot about this over the past week, but that's probably the point.  Sometimes the difference between overtraining and overreaching is small, but the potential impact of pushing too hard can be devastating.  I had hoped to do a long run today, but realized that the upside was small.  I've already done several long runs, and I've done five 3 hour runs since May.  Squeezing in another 20 mile run is nice, but it won't make or break my run in Kona. I still would like to do at least one more, and might possibly get two more in depending upon how I feel.  With that said, if I don't do another 20 mile run, it probably won't matter.

Life is a balancing act. Ironman training is a balancing act. The Ironman race itself is a balancing act. I've been trying to maintain some balance all week.  My brain wants to work out.  My body is feeling the stress of both training and babysitting.  I can feel the strain of everything.  That's one thing that ironman training does for you.  It makes you aware of every little thing that goes on with your body.  Ironically, not training for a few days certainly has its own impact.  I'm sure that I'm feeling the impact of fewer endorphins. I'm trying to figure out how much to eat, or not to eat.

So, instead of running today, after getting up early and taking care of my grandson, I finally had some time to work out.  It was 92 degrees out, and I went for a bike ride.  I kept my wattage under control again today, but riding in the heat has it's own stress. My heart rate was higher than I would have liked.  Still, it was a decent workout.  I took a nap later in the afternoon, and made sure that I was hydrated.  I will assess my balance every day.  I have to trust my instincts and my body.  It's a balancing act.

Journey to Kona Day 210: Carbs, Keto and Training

Days like today remind me of the challenge of carbohydrates.  I worked out yesterday, but changed my training plans today when I didn't get enough sleep last night. I took a nap instead.  I was debating  squeezing in a bike ride this afternoon, but decided against it due to 90 degree temperatures and the fact that I was still tired after my nap.  We've still got three and a half more days of babysitting, so I need to conserve my energy!  This morning and this afternoon I took in some carbs (honey stinger waffle this morning and frozen yogurt this afternoon). I pretty much immediately felt lousy.  It reminds me of how I used to feel when I was mostly running and following the carb loading approach to training.  My body and carbohydrates are not a great match, especially when my metabolism isn't burning the carbs immediately.

Training for an ironman with a low carbohydrate or keto diet has its challenges.  First of all, it's not for everyone.  We all have different metabolisms and body types.  There is no doubt that I can tolerate a low carb diet, but at the same time, I don't want to be training with inadequate carbohydrate stores in my body, as the stress of doing so is an added one.  As I keep learning from babysitting, there's all kinds of stresses that impact the human body, and exercise is just one of them.

I'm intrigued about what it would take for me to get back down to the weight I used to race at a decade ago.  I'd have to lose about 10 pounds, which doesn't seem like a lot, but it's not like I'm carrying around too much excess fat.  This means that burning carbohydrates risks burning protein in the muscles, which could have a negative impact on me.  Nevertheless, I've thought a lot about trying to get down to what I call "fighting weight" for awhile now, especially after I gained weight a couple of years ago while my training lapsed.

I am certainly not against a "keto" diet, in fact, I tend to lean in that direction.  However, I am a firm believer that everything should be done in some degree of moderation.  It probably wasn't a good idea to eat "empty" carbs today, in lieu of the fact that I'm not going to work out today.  Of course, I didn't know that this morning.  In fact, I often don't take in any carbs in the morning and start my workout without any sort of carbohydrate "boost."  I can't complain as to how that's worked out for me in the past few years.  At the same time, with 5 1/2 weeks to go before Kona, I have no intention of doing anything differently right now.  I'll keep listening to my body, and keep doing what's gotten me here.