Posts Tagged ‘training’

Let’s Celebrate: Vermont Training Camp

July 6th, 2010

I spent last Thursday, July 1st, getting various last minute items (gels, accelerade, spare tires, etc.), and then packing those items and more. The car was packed, with the exception of the bikes, which simply needed to be put on the rooftop racks. So, within moments of John’s arrival home from work, we (including Bella) were in the car and on our way.

Bella likes to cuddle up with all the stuff in the back of the car. As a rule, she *hates* car rides, but she likes to get away. So, the car ride is a necessary evil for her.

We were headed to John’s family’s vacation home in West Halifax, VT, where we had married 10 years ago to the day. Isn’t it just oh-so-romantic to return there for our anniversary? Well, I guess it would have been if that was the reason we were going to Vermont. It wasn’t.
» Read more: Let’s Celebrate: Vermont Training Camp

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Fireman Ironman Training Camp: “I am so lucky to be able to do this”

June 23rd, 2010

“Whenever I get scared or feel anxiety, I just remind myself that I am so lucky to be able to do this.” And with that statement, Charlotte became a source of incredible knowledge and motivation as I worked my way through a challenging, exhilarating and ultimately rewarding training weekend in Lake Placid, NY.

I met Charlotte on the banks of Mirror Lake, just as we were getting ready to do one loop of the swim course last Friday evening (June 18th) to kick off the 10th Annual Fireman Ironman Training Camp, which is organized by New York City Fire Fighter Larry Parker and his excellent staff,, volunteers and panel of experts. This camp is a grassroots, low-key training weekend that asks you to “leave your egos home.” For the cost of $149 per person, the camp offered ample aid station support for the workouts, fantastic volunteers,  an impressive and knowledgeable panel of experts, a buffet dinner on Saturday night,a fun and laid back BBQ on Sunday night, a great goodie bag, t-shirt, various giveaways from the camp’s many sponsors, and the opportunity to meet some of the finest ironman athletes. In sum, it offered serious workouts mixed with great fun.

» Read more: Fireman Ironman Training Camp: “I am so lucky to be able to do this”

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Find your *something*

May 25th, 2010

“I could never do that.”

OR

“I wish I could do that.”

OR

“I don’t know how you can train so much. I would die.”

Over the past few months, I’ve heard people say these statements (or similar ones) when John and I tell them we are training for an Ironman. I know people are saying these things in a complimentary way – and I am grateful for the support and words of encouragement. Yet, as odd as it may seem, these statements have started to make me feel a little bit uncomfortable. You see, I’m convinced that each of us have the potential to do and achieve amazing things. There’s no reason to wish to be able to do something because we can. We own the potential within us to reach the goals we find most important. Finding and reaching our potential requires a challenging, but rewarding process of identifying our goals, and maintaining focus and discipline in our pursuit of those goals.

Goals are (and should be) as individual as each of us are. Said differently, goals are personal. For John and I, our fitness goals have been directed toward endurance endeavors. For others, those goals might not make sense. But, everyone has “something” they want to achieve, even if they haven’t started taking the steps to achieve that goal yet.

So, while I appreciate the compliments about our training, I’m not sold on the idea that what John and I are doing is any more amazing than another person’s journey toward whatever their “something” might be. That’s not to say that I’m not proud of what I’m doing, and that it doesn’t give me a sense of accomplishment: it does.  Yet, I am humbly reminded – almost daily – that others are so amazing and do wonderful things in the pursuit of their goals. I find inspiration in their human desire to do more, be more, help more.

My ironman journey serves as a daily reminder that setting goals and working toward them is an important component of a meaningful life. Of course, this process of setting and achieving goals is frequently easier said (or written) than done. To help keep me focused, I try to stick to some core principles. I thought that sharing these ideas with you might be worthwhile for today’s post. I hope you agree.

In order to achieve a goal, we need first to clearly identify it.

Seems simple, right? Not always. I’ve found that listing and describing my goals in writing is a useful exercise. Before embarking on something that will take considerable resources of time, money and effort, I need to be clear that this goal belongs to me. Again, goals are personal. They are not about other people’s expectations of us. I’ve gotten into a bit of trouble in the past trying to please others or to meet others’ expectations. It’s a losing game. Even if I meet those expectations, that achievement can have a hollow feel because it’s not a goal that belongs to me personally.

So, I have found that reflection about my goals is helpful. That reflection can be through meditation, through a private journal, and sometimes in a public forum, such as this blog.

Resist the temptation to underestimate.

Hoo-boy – this is a mistake I make ALL THE TIME. (See my previous post about it here.) I have a habitual tendency to underestimate myself – not just with fitness, but with all types of goals. So, if I can offer advice in the vein of “do as I say, not as I do” here goes: When identifying goals, resist the temptation to limit yourself. Yes, we want to be realistic in setting goals. It’s probably not smart or safe to go from being a full-time couch potato to a marathon runner in 4 weeks. But, it’s also important to avoid picking a goal that is too easily obtained. In that case, we don’t reap the benefits of stretching past our comfort zone to learn and experience something truly remarkable.

The goal of finishing an Ironman, for me, is safely placed just a little bit past my comfort zone, but not so far past it that it’s an impossible dream. If you are like me, and tend to underestimate and doubt yourself, enlist the help of others to help you identify realistic goals. With respect to my original pacing expectations for the Ironman, John and my coach have been very helpful in reminding me, “Maria, you can probably do better than that. Just sayin’.” At the same time, I know better than to set a 21 mph average pace for my bike during the Ironman. I’m not ready for that yet. But, I’m not ruling it out for the future ;)

Achieving a “big” goal is really about accomplishing a series of smaller goals.

Finishing an Ironman is not just about moving across 140.6 miles under my own power. Sure, that’s what the endpoint looks like. But, that larger goal is comprised of a series of much smaller, but no less significant accomplishments. Finishing an Ironman also includes finishing my first 100-mile bike ride, increasing my run times off the bike, improving my swim mechanics, and so on. Furthermore, the goal of finishing an Ironman is wrapped up with my goal to help other people by raising money for college students who are low on funds but high on smarts (for info, see the Iron Scholarship).

For a person who wants to start being physically active, or who wants to ramp up their engagement with an active lifestyle, this process is also a series of smaller goals. Don’t think about what you aren’t able to do. Focus on what you can do now, and set a small goal for where you want to be next week or next month–before you become overwhelmed by where you want to be next year.  And no matter what the goal, we all have to start somewhere.

In working toward our “bigger” goals, it is important to celebrate and recognize these milestones along the journey. Doing so helps with motivation, and also demonstrates for us in a tangible way that we are, indeed, progressing toward the goal.

It’s also important to recognize and examine setbacks in our progress. Rather than seeing these as insurmountable obstacles, see them as learning opportunities. Did I err in judgment? Am I taking the right steps in progressing toward my larger goal? Have I set a realistic time frame for my goal? But, no matter what, DON’T GIVE UP. Find another way to achieve your goal if the current path isn’t getting you there. Don’t think about what you can’t do, think about what you can do.

Goals infuse our lives with meaning.

Once we identify a goal (or goals), our daily decisions become part of achieving that goal. I lived various portions of my life without a meaningful goal, and these were some of the darkest, least enjoyable parts of my life. I find that having a clear goal (or set of goals) ascribes substantive meaning to even the most mundane actions. For example, eating is no longer something I do because I’m hungry (although that is certainly a significant part of the process!). Eating, and making decisions about my nutrition, is an integral part of working toward my training and racing goals. If I make the wrong nutrition decisions, I pay the price. Make the right ones, I reap the benefits. As such, the daily decisions we make become infused with a meaning, giving us purpose and focus.

As our lives evolve, our goals do too.

I believe each of us needs to find “our something” and work toward it.  But, that doesn’t mean that we are focused on a single goal for decades at a time. Quite the contrary. As we move through our lives, gain new experiences, our goals will understandably change as well. This evolution has certainly been the case for me. As little as two years ago, I never would have identified finishing an Ironman as a goal. Nope. It wasn’t even a “secret dream.” The plan at that time was to run one marathon – just to say I did it – and move on with my life. Well, crossing that marathon finish line changed that vision into a lifestyle that finds meaning in endurance endeavors.

As I learned after running my first marathon, as we achieve goals, we need to set new ones. If we fall short of a goal, we need to adapt and find a new way to achieve that goal. But, we can’t lose sight of the fact that

we are capable of achieving our goals (whatever they might be) if we take systematic and conscious steps to reach them.

This lesson about goals is one of the greatest I’ve learned during my Ironman journey. It makes me hopeful and excited to see how each experience will teach me something about what’s possible and what my potential is and could be. Find your *something* and go after it!

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Vulnerability and Resiliency: Lessons from the Cancer Center

May 7th, 2010

The windows in the room lined the upper reaches of the ceiling, enough to let plenty of light in the room, but not big enough or low enough to let us see anything below the blue sky line. My sister sat in an office-grade recliner with blue plastic covering, and I sat in a matching chair, without the reclining function. The machines beeped every so often as either my sister or one of the other patients finished their bags of drugs: benadryl, saline, dextrose, various concoctions of chemotherapy. At times, I could tell by the winces on my sister’s face and the faces of the other patients that the process hurt. Other times, we talked as if there weren’t lines of poison draining into veins as a weapon to kill other types of poison already creeping in the body. Most of the time, however, those lines filled with what my sister calls “the death drug” were difficult to ignore.

A diagnosis of cancer could be enough to encourage some to quit, to lose hope, to despair. Despite the suck-fest that is cancer, so many choose to push on, to battle. They don’t quit. Throughout the 3 hours or so that one or another drug dripped into my sister’s body, I was witness to and humbled by the awesome vulnerability and resiliency of human beings. Here were people who were fighting, testing and pushing past obstacles–even at a moment of extreme vulnerability. Here were people who have accepted no other option but to endure courageously. Push past the pain. Visualize the end result of a healthy body. It seems to me that athletes have much to learn from these fighters. After all, it is not just in times of disease or sickness that we are vulnerable. Those dire circumstances simply highlight what is always already the case for every human being.

Four months of dedicated Ironman training have made me stronger, harder and faster than I have ever been in my life. I have not only found my inner athlete, I have reclaimed her. I own my identity as an athlete. Most days, I hardly recognize my own body, and I am happily surprised by my abilities to push past previous limits of speed and distance.

Yet, at the very moment that appears to be my pinnacle of strength and stamina, I am acutely aware of my vulnerability, and of the vulnerability of every human body and mind.

While vulnerability is typically considered to be problematic, a recognition that we are vulnerable–and the fact that this is the unavoidable counterpart to strength and vitality–can be an important source of mental and physical growth.

Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a fair amount of time mulling over my vulnerability. Oh, poor pity me. I hurt my hamstring. I fell off my bike. Luckily, there is another side to these moments of weakness. When confronted with various mental and physical challenges, I have adapted; I have found ways to grow. Despite my sister’s diagnosis of a fast-moving, invasive type of breast cancer, she adapted, and while the cancer has stopped growing (thankfully!), her will, her strength, her resiliency has been fortified.  While the fight she fights is much more dire and grave than my own, I am learning from her strength despite our inherent vulnerability.

But, this measure of strength and resiliency requires active engagement on our part. While no struggle is easy–or guaranteed to end in our favor–the process can be just as valuable as the end result. Here’s some of what I’ve learned as a result of the toggles and tugs between vulnerability and resiliency:

Don’t dwell on the problem. At times, I have a tendency to let my brain get mired in a laundry list of worries and anxieties. This does me no good, and frequently leads to bouts of insomnia. When I stop dwelling on the problem, I start working toward the goal. I realize the possibilities, not the problems. Likewise, my sister keeps moving on: work, school, life.

Don’t go it alone. Rely on a community for support.  I am lucky that my husband John is a purebred optimist, and helps me find my optimism and strength when I need it most. I return the favor as much as possible. Likewise, my sister relies on a community of support to help her through the troubled times. It is important to receive and give help. Share with others. Learn from their strengths. Help them in their times of vulnerability.

Visualize a positive end result. I like to daydream about finish lines, about what it will feel like to accomplish training and racing goals. I find that at moments when I start to think about a problem, I can reverse that process by imagining how it will feel to cross the finish line as the announcer says, “Maria, you are an IRONMAN!” Ooh, I just got chills :) My sister has had the benefit of getting a very positive MRI report, which showed that the cancer is GONE. G.O.N.E. GONE. How’s that for positive visualization?

Think in terms of small goals or small steps. When the overarching goal seems impossible or too far out of reach, break it down into smaller goals or steps. It’s not 112 miles on the bike. It’s 2 x 56 mile sets, or 4 x 28 mile sets. Or whatever helps you recognize how manageable the distance, the effort is. For my sister, this has meant taking each treatment separately. Each test as a new milestone in her progress toward wellness. Then, when we achieve the smaller goals, we need to celebrate them! This helps with motivation, as well as with staying positive and resilient.

Give yourself a pep talk. During challenging moments, or at times when I am nervous (such as right before a race or a challenging training session), I give myself a pep talk. OUT LOUD. Yes, audibly. I have found that these pep talks are much more effective when I hear them. I say things like, “You got this, girl!” or “Check you out, you rock!” In other words, I say to myself the words of encouragement I usually reserve for other people. And, sometimes, I’m not afraid to administer a bit of tough love, if need be. “C’mon now, keep it together, and push past this. Enjoy the suffer!”

Don’t let the negative voices win the argument. Despite best efforts to stay positive, negative voices do creep in. But, you have to work actively to counteract them. John and I have a rule: when we say something negative about ourselves, we have to counter it with 5 specific positive statements about ourselves. It’s important that these positive statements are SPECIFIC. (Note: this idea isn’t original to us; we got it from Don Fink’s book, Be Iron Fit.) I have tried to be vigilant in responding to the negative voices in my head using this method. Over time, it makes a difference! Another great trick: when you feel low, at your breaking point even, smile. It will feel fake at first, but if you keep at it the positive vibration from your smiling lips will spread to your brain, and the rest of your body.

DON’T QUIT. Just don’t. Adapt. Work around difficulties. You might not be able to accomplish the goal in the manner you wanted to originally, but you can STILL DO IT. Keep moving in the direction of your goals, your dreams. Then, once you reach a goal, dream up a new one. Learn new vulnerabilities. Find new sources of strength. But, don’t quit.

Each of us is vulnerable, yes. But, we are simultaneously resilient in ways we might not realize. Find your way. Be resilient.

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Hitting the road

April 4th, 2010

Saturday morning means one thing: my long bike ride. All week long, I was looking forward to the ride because everyone was abuzz with “how nice” the weather would be. Hmmm. Well, the sun and warm temps must have taken a pass on the Southern Jersey shoreline on Saturday morning.

When we woke up, it was foggy, damp and chilly. My original plan had been to get up early (which I did) and complete my ride, leaving most of the day to catch up on work. No dice. It just wasn’t safe to head out a 7:00 a.m. with such low visibility. I like to be fully visible to cars, who frequently are not looking for cyclists.

I decided to wait a bit to see if the fog would lift. By 9:15 a.m., I could see the sun beginning to burn through the mist. So, I saddled up.

Cycling is not my strength, and over the past several weeks, I’ve been struggling to find my rhythm and strength. This ride was different.  I was zipping along, at a comfortably challenging pace, about 17 miles per hour average, with an average heart rate hovering between 128-132 bpm. Perfect. That’s exactly where I want it for the Ironman. Beyond the pace and the heart rate, I felt good. I rarely get on or off the bike thinking, “Wow, that feels good.” It’s just not my thing. But, this ride was looking to be an exception.

I was being mindful to take a quick drink every 15 minutes or so, and I was practicing getting into and out of aero bars (clipped to the front of my bike), using the drop bars (the undercurved part of the bike’s handlebars), and riding on the cow horns. The course that I had selected was moderately hilly, at least by Southern New Jersey standards, and I was working the uphills – maintaining a high cadence despite the elevation change. It was just perfect.

And then, about 1 hour and 21 minutes into the ride, it was just horrific. In just 3 seconds, my ride went from awesome to awful.

Somewhere along Weekstown Road (for those of you familiar with the area), a car came whizzing by me, dangerously close. I was on my aero bars, and flinched. My front wheel jutted sharply to the right, and I lost control of the bike. I watched as the ground  rose up to make contact with the right corner of my helmet. I heard the crush of plastic and foam. I felt the asphalt scrape my knees, legs, and arms. That moment, about 3 seconds, seemed to last 3 minutes.

The impact zone. Always, always, always wear a helmet!

Then, the scene became chaotic. I was hyperventilating, laying in the middle of the road. I grabbed my bike, and pulled myself and it to the side of the road. I lay in the dirt shoulder, gasping for air. I ripped off my helmet, my windbreaker (bright yellow, mind you). I felt nauseous, dizzy, scared.

According to my Garmin data, I was moving at 19.3 mph when I went down. I estimate that I skid along the road about 6 or 7 feet (as determined by the trail of sports drink that spilled from my aero bars as I skidded).

The woman in the car behind me, pulled her car up to block any other cars from getting to close to me. Luckily (or is it ironically?), the road I was on didn’t have many cars. But, it is a long stretch of tar, and the cars that do use it, move fast. She got out of the car.

“Are you okay?” she asked me.

“Huh [gasp] I [wheeze] think so [gasp],” I replied.

“Do you need help?”

“Not [gulp air] sure. I [gasp] have a [gasp] phone,” I managed to say.

She said she was going down the road a bit to drop her recyclables at the dump, and would be back in a minute to check on me. True to her word, she returned. By that time, I had called John, who was working on trying to calm me down.

“Are you hurt?” That was the first thing he wanted to know. Uh, was I hurt? Was that meant to be a trick question?

“Yes,” I whimpered. But, he didn’t mean “normal” bike crash hurt. He meant, “Are you out of the game hurt?” He meant INJURY.

I surveyed all my limbs, and looked at the bloody pulps of skin all over my body. Despite what it looked (and felt) like, I realized, no, I wasn’t “out of the game” injured.

After that, I needed about 10 minutes on the side of the road to collect myself. Eventually, I was able to breathe normally, the rush of adrenaline subsided, and the dizziness went away. As I stood there, the handful of passersby were quite community-minded. Almost every single motorist stopped to make sure I was okay. And I was–once I got my wind back.

As I was preparing to get back on my bike, the car that had passed me right as I fell came back. He said, “Are you okay? I realized I could have been a little more generous with the space I left you.”

At that moment, I realized why I had fallen. I looked at him, a bit incredulously. “Is that what happened? Oh. [long pause] I had a nasty fall.”

He smiled, “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. Sorry about that.” And, then he whizzed off. Oh, yeah, I’m fine, jackass. Thanks. I realize it wasn’t his fault that I crashed – I should have had better control of my bike – but really?

I got back on the bike (which was virtually unscathed), scared and a little wobbly. I was never able to regain my original rhythm–not even close. I was just past the halfway mark on my ride when I crashed, and had to crawl home 19 miles at a measly 12 mph average. I think in some ways, this shift was the biggest disappointment. I was having a stellar ride until that point. I had cruised a little more than 21 miles, averaging 17 miles per hour, and feeling stronger by the mile. All told, the ride took me 2 hours and 58 minutes, for a total of 41.65 miles.

I’m happy I made it home in one piece.  I’m also a little bit happy that the crash happened; it seems an appropriate part of Ironman training. I feel tough, seasoned. After all, it was bound to happen at some point, and I figure riding another hour and a half after crashing builds character. At least that’s what I’ll keep telling myself.

Battered, but not broken.

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I’m injured, but I’m not out

February 19th, 2010

I have a case of what appears to be hamstring tendonitis in my right leg. At first, the injury led me to drop running from my training, and replace it with aqua jogging, while continuing my training with swimming and biking. However, at the end of last week, it became painfully (literally) clear to me that I would have to also drop the bike and aqua jogging. My coach took it a step further and said: no kicking while swimming. My first response: SERIOUSLY?

I found it impossible to be optimistic and find the silver lining at first. This news simply wrecked me. I spent Sunday afternoon sulking, icing and saying, “I don’t want to talk about it” every time John asked me, “How are you doing with this news?”

As I laid on the couch last Sunday, elevating my legs, and shivering from the large bags of ice I had placed all over my lower body, I felt completely helpless. I felt pathetic. I felt weak. How could I possibly finish an Ironman in July if I can’t even train properly? Who the hell am I kidding? I had lost my mental focus and the momentum that I had been building in my training. I had just come off a great 3.5 bike ride on Saturday (despite the injury), and now I felt like I couldn’t even get off the couch.

I spent most of Sunday and Monday secretly, inwardly freaking out. I tried not to verbalize my feelings because I felt like that would only increase my defectiveness, my weakness, my brokenness. I tried not to concentrate on the injury, but really, that’s been a futile exercise, made especially difficult by the fact that I have had a fairly constant dull ache in my hamstring. Pleasant.

When I got into the pool on Monday, I grabbed the pull buoy and placed it between my legs. No kicking. How the hell could this even count as a workout? Instead of thinking about swimming, I thought: I will gain weight. I will lose fitness. I will lose strength. I’ve worked so hard to get to where I am, and now one injury would ruin it all. My thoughts zeroed in on nothing but doom and gloom. So, suffice to say, that Monday morning swim was not effective for my training. My head was not in the game. I might as well have stayed under the covers for all the good that did me.

I realized I needed to be more pro-active, that I couldn’t just sit around icing and flailing around in the pool. First, I called a chiropractor, Dr. Reed Lerman, who had helped me with a minor case of hip bursitis I had last year. He uses laser therapy (sort of like ultrasound therapy) to help improve recovery. After two treatments last year, my hip bursitis improved within a week. So, I thought, perhaps this will help with my hamstring? I had a treatment on Tuesday morning, and by the afternoon the bulk of the pain in my hip area had lessened. More importantly, just the idea that I was doing something helped to improve my mental state.

And, this mental improvement, helped me make better use of pool time. By the time I got in the pool on Wednesday, I was ready to focus again. Instead of concentrating on what I couldn’t do, I thought about what this injury has “freed” me to focus on. For example, swimming with the buoy allows me to concentrate singularly on my stroke, in particular making sure I pull my arm all the way through the entire stroke (back near my hips), and ensuring proper body rotation so I don’t have to lift my head out of the water to breath. Guess what? This resulted in greater efficiency in my stroke, which was evidenced by decreasing lap times.

And, because I can’t bike, run or do lower body strength training, all of my strength work has been concentrated on my upper body and my core–which are my weak areas to begin with. I’ve included core work every day this week. If I had full use of my lower extremities, I wouldn’t be able to spend as much time on my core. Yet, a strong core is the KEY ingredient to triathlon success–it’s also important to help prevent injury. Hmmmm.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my primary doctor, a sports medicine guy. He allayed my fears that this injury was some type of chronic condition, assuring me that based on his assessment of the hammy, there is nothing ACUTE about the problem. Just my body saying: Whoa, lady, we need to chill for a minute. He also gave me a script for physical therapy, that will also include some strength training. I have my first PT appointment today. I’m excited to be officially ON THE MEND.

I might have a temporary problem with my hamstring, sure. But, don’t count me out. In a few weeks, I’ll be rested, recovered, and ready to start kicking some a$$. SERIOUSLY.

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Indoor training doesn’t have to be as terrible as the weather

February 10th, 2010

Our setup in the garage. It might not be glamorous, but it gets the job done.

Cold weather doesn’t bother me. I prefer it to the warmer weather. However, snow is a problem for outdoor training – especially cycling, Unfortunately, the snow has been plentiful this winter–an anomaly for the Southern New Jersey coast. With all the snow, and limited city budgets for plowing said snow, John and I have had to ride the indoor trainer* quite a bit.

If you’ve never ridden a bike trainer, you have been spared what is sometimes mental agony, resulting from spinning in circles without going anywhere, which can be similar to running on a treadmill or swimming laps in a pool. If you have ridden the trainer, then you know that the prospect of a long indoor “ride” requires preparation. And, with the right preparation, it doesn’t have to be a bore or a sluggish chore. Rather, I’ve found that a few key elements can make this training time enjoyable, and more importantly, effective for making training gains.

A caveat: I’m not an experienced cyclist. But, I hope there’s something here of value for you. Any readers with additional tips: please post them in the comments! I’m always looking for new ideas :) .

You may also find that some of these tips can be useful for those of you who are stuck on the treadmill–or engaged in any type of indoor training.

Create a training space.

If possible, make this space “semi-permanent” in the sense that you won’t have to put the bike and trainer (or other equipment) away after every workout, and then have to pull it out before every workout. This saves valuable time – and when you are already working out 2-3 hours a day, saving 20-30 minutes can be the difference between getting to work on time–or not. It can also leave you with valuable time for core work and stretching. In addition to the equipment, I recommend have a source to play music (beyond your MP3 player), a television, and a DVD/VHS player. You can even decorate your space with motivational posters, stickers, sayings and so on. We also find that a mirror helps us check our form on the bike, preventing us from getting sloppy when we are tired.

Have a plan or a goal for each training session.

I find that simply riding without aim will make any indoor session feel like it lasts too long. Furthermore, if you don’t have a clear sense of the goal for the session, it becomes that much easier to say, “Oh, I’ve had enough for today” when it starts to get a little monotonous. A plan might include a workout with intervals, tempo work, hills, endurance, force, or any other training goal you might be shooting for. For example, I’ve done a “hill” ride, which I was able to simulate by putting the front end of my bike up on bricks, and then shifting up and down through my gears to increase the difficulty. It was a great workout  – and one that I couldn’t have replicated on the roads of South Jersey because we simply don’t have any hills.

Additionally, you don’t have to stop for cars or redlights or stop signs when you are on the trainer–another great value for training efficiency. You can just ride. So, if you want to ride a steady zone 2 endurance ride, you can without interruptions.

But, you need to decide what your plan is before you hop on the bike, and this plan should fit with your overall goals for training. Are you doing a race with hills? Do you need more power on the bike? Are you trying to increase your speed? The answers to these questions will let you know what types of rides to create for yourself. I find that having a clear plan of attack for each training session makes the time go by more quickly, and more importantly the time spent on the trainer is efficient in terms of working toward my overarching training goals.

USA Triathlon recently posted a helpful article in this regard, you can find here.

Have a BYOT party.

While triathlon is an individual sport, training doesn’t have to be. Find a few friends who are willing to share some indoor sweaty time with you. I like to call it a BYOT (bring your own trainer) party. If it’s a steady endurance ride, you can find some conversation time with your partners. If you are working through a grueling interval session, you can share and pull energy from those around you who are working through the same suffer session. Some bike shops even offer indoor cycling rides. It’s worth asking if you are looking to share some motivation for training.

Find what motivates you.

I’ve ridden the trainer while watching movies or television shows, and I find that this is adequate for a basic, steady endurance ride or recovery ride. However, in order to amp up the intensity, I find that I need a different type of stimulation, which includes rocking music with a fast beat and visuals that make it feel like I’m riding outside.

Recently, John and I rode to a Lake Placid simulation from Spinervals. The DVD features Troy Jacobsen riding through the Lake Placid bike loop (56 miles). As he rides, he describes on camera about the elevation changes, suggestions for gear changing, and so on. In this manner, John and I “rode” the Lake Placid course last weekend, while listening to some great music. It was a vast improvement from watching a television show, in terms of the intensity of the workout.

Of course, there are other DVD options available. I follow @thesufferfest on Twitter, who makes some really aggressive looking cycling videos. You can find more information here. I haven’t purchased one yet, but I have watched the trailers. Woo-hoo – looks great!

What works for me won’t necessarily work for you. So experiment with music, visuals, and so on.

Track your vitals

Cadence, speed, distance, heart rate. And, if you are lucky (or rich) enough to have a power meter, throw that in the mix too. These vital signs give you a snap shot of how well your workout is meeting the goals you’ve set for it. If you don’t have devices that offer you this information, don’t despair. You can manually count your cadence and heart rate. You might not be able to log speed or distance without the tools, but I think cadence and heart rate are more important anyway. Of course, if you have the cash, I do recommend getting the technology. The basics would include a bike computer with the capacity to track cadence, and a heart rate monitor.  This technology has made my training better and I think it was worth the investment. (Note: I don’t have a power meter…yet).

While I would never opt to train indoors if I could go outdoors, indoor training is a necessary evil when the winter weather makes roads too dangerous. I hope these tips are useful – and I strongly urge you to leave more ideas. After all, we’ve got a few more weeks of winter left.

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*For those readers who may not know, an indoor trainer is a device you attach to the back wheel of your bike to create a temporary stationary bike. The picture illustrates what these look like.

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Life’s a little different now: Some observations on Ironman training

January 29th, 2010

I’m a little over 25 weeks out from Lake Placid Ironman. During this early phase of base training, along with the training I did in preparation for the HIM Bassman in October, I’ve noticed several changes in my life. I thought I’d share some. Maybe some of you can relate?

Observation #1: Positive Correlations

Most athletes preparing for an Ironman expect that the longer the race distance, the longer the training times and miles. What I didn’t account for was the fact that those training distances aren’t the only times that increase. While the training plan may have anywhere from 10 to 20 hours of workouts for the week, the ironman athlete must also account for other increases in time spent doing training-related tasks. For example, there is a strong, direct, positive correlation between training time and loads of laundry, grocery bills and time spent preparing food. It seems impossible that two people can dirty that many pieces of clothing, and eat that much food without becoming morbidly obese. Yet, somehow, the laundry basket is always full, and we are losing weight.

Observation #2: The Pack Mule Effect

Triathletes know that the sport requires a considerable amount of gear. I am accustomed to the girth of my transition bag at races, which one race volunteer said looked like a “rocket launcher.” I knew that about race day, but every day? Not so much. As a direct result of my Ironman training “needs,” I leave the house each morning saddled down like a pack mule with at least two different gym bags (separated by sport), containers of food, at least two different pairs of shoes, and a bag full of “recovery” items such as KT Tape, compression socks, ice pack, heating pad, and Alieve. As of late, I’ve also been bringing my foam roller with me everywhere I go.

Observation #3: Chocolate milk is gourmet.

Best practices for post-workout recovery dictate that athletes need to consume a mix of carbohydrates and protein within 30 minutes of finishing their workout. When we first started training, we used a special recovery drink that cost us a small fortune. Then, we started talking to some seasoned triathletes who said that chocolate milk is a perfect post-workout recovery choice. So, we are now saving about $90 a month, and the best part: Chocolate milk is like a gourmet dessert when the rest of your nutrition plan strictly limits sweets. It’s a little cup of manna straight from the triathlon gods.

Observation #4: Salads You Can Bench Press

John and I have shifted our diet to include more servings of vegetables and fruits. While we don’t neglect proteins and whole grains, we have noticed that the increase in vegetables and fruits has a very positive effect on our overall feelings of well-being and energy levels. The issue with vegetables and fruit, however, is that you need a lot of them to satisfy the calorie deficit from training. So, we prepare salads that weigh more than the medicine balls we use for our core routine.

Observation #5: How far is that in relation to an Ironman?

As some of you already know, the Ironman is a total of 140.6 miles. I have, as of late, begun to compare all distances that I travel in relationship to this 140.6 mile goal. For example, my round trip work commute is almost as far as the bike. Our favorite bike shop is about a marathon away. While the distance to the gym is just an Ironman swim away.

Observation #6: Looking out for hills

Lake Placid’s course has plenty of elevation change, which I noted in a previous post. The problem for John and I is the overwhelming lack of elevation change in New Jersey. So, whenever I am driving anywhere, I actively seek hills for training. Recently, I went to a colleague’s for a party, and she lives in a very hilly area outside of Philadelphia. I found myself wishing I had brought my bike to ride some of these hills before the party.

Observation #7: Food shopping and long bike rides are hot dates

Spare time is increasingly fleeting as each week of our training plans ticks by. So, John and I have gotten creative about spending time together. The past several weekends have included long Saturday morning bike rides, during which we get to check out the sexiness of each other’s back sides as we trade lead. Then, we spend Saturday night cruising the aisles of our local grocery store, sharing our deepest thoughts and dreams about how great those homemade black bean veggie burgers will be. Sometimes, in the excitement of the moment, we buy whole wheat pizza crust and giggle about how “bad” we are being. You just can’t manufacture bonding like that.

I wonder what new revelations the next 25 weeks will bring?

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Support Academic Endurance!

Throughout 2010, I’m training and racing for the Iron Scholarship Fund, which will reward academic endurance for students who are economically disadvantaged. My goal is to raise $5,000. So far, I’ve raised $350.00. Find out how you can support The Iron Scholarship Fund, just click http://www.runningalife.com/?page_id=374.

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“Nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so” – or how I came to love my heart rate

January 14th, 2010

Yes, it’s Shakespeare again. This time, the Prince of Denmark himself – Hamlet – offers wise words to keep my experiences (in training and life) in perspective. This quote reminds me that our thinking plays an integral role in how we perceive our abilities, our training, and our potential. Think negative thoughts, increase the likelihood of negative outcomes. Think positive thoughts, increase the likelihood of positive outcomes. Sounds easy enough.

So, why am I so mean to myself?

I know better: I’ve read plenty of articles that talk about the power of positive thinking. I know that our brains are important training tools and must be pushed outside the comfort zone just as we do with the muscles and cardiovascular system.

I thought of Shakespeare’s words today as the sweat gushed from my pores, as I inadvertently spewed saliva because it was too much effort to keep my mouth closed, as I turned red hot in the face from the surge of blood, and as I ran as fast as I could for 20 minutes to determine my lactate threshold. My brain wanted me to slow down–but my body didn’t give in to the voices. I kept pushing. I kept breathing. I surprised myself this morning. I realized that my brain underestimates me. Hmm.

I recently started working with a coach, Jeff Kline of Personal Best Fitness (if you are on Twitter, you can find him at @coachprs). This week we are working on assessing my heart rate zones. Sure, you can use a quick formula based on age, but those estimates are only general approximations based on statistical aggregations of others. In other words: not individualized.The assessments involve figuring out my max heart rate and my lactate threshold (LT). (See the end of this post if you’d like a quick definition of each.)

The combination of these numbers, along with my resting heart rate, will give my coach a good sense of my capacity. Then, he will formulate my workouts based on levels of heart rate intensity, matching different intensities to various training objectives. For example, zone 2 is an optimal intensity for long, endurance workouts and races, such as–oh, I don’t know–let’s say an Ironman.  As I work toward my 2010 goals (Lake Placid and the VT50 the super big-deal goals, otherwise known as “A” priority races), I won’t train based on pace. I will train based on heart rate and time spent in the various intensity zones (1-5). To illustrate, on Sunday, I’m scheduled to run an hour and 30 minutes in zone 2, which based on my LT test is a heart rate between 148-158. Whatever the pace is during this time, it is.

This seems a fairly “scientific” process, right? How could my brain mess it up? Figure out the zones, dial them in, and stick to them. Yes, that does seem straightforward, except for one little problem: the process required to figure out max HR and LT requires some thinking on my part. Figuring out what these levels are depends upon my perceptions of the fastest pace I can run for a mile (max), and perceptions of the fastest pace I can maintain for 20 minutes of running (LT). Turns out, I have very “bad” thinking about my potential.

On Monday, Coach Kline ordered a max heart rate test which involved running a mile “all out”. Trouble is, my brain wasn’t very accurate in predicting what this pace should be. I started off too slowly, and by the time I realized I could definitely run harder, I only had a half mile left. While I definitely ran all out for the last 800 meters, it wasn’t enough. I came home feeling disappointed in myself and doubting my ability. My max HR was “low” – at least to my thinking. The worse part: I knew I hadn’t run to my potential. I blew it.  I began to fear that my 2010 goals were out of reach. I expressed these concerns to Coach Jeff, and he assured me that the “test was fine,” and it only would be used for calculations. He indicated that the LT test was more important.

So, I woke up this morning, knowing that I had the LT test on the books for today. With a little bit of dread and a 10 minute warmup, I started to push the pace. For about 30 seconds, I ran at 7:15 min/mile pace. Then, I thought to myself, “I can run faster than this. Don’t make the same mistake you made on Monday.” I pushed the pace to about a 7:00 min/mile. It was hard, as it should be. The lactate threshold is the critical benchmark for intensity.

By the 5 minute mark, my body knew it had the right pace. As I approached the 17 minute mark, I was frothing a bit at the mouth, as is typical for me when I do speedwork Such a pretty girl, right?! While my brain might have had some doubts, my body did not. At 20 minutes, I hit the lap timer on my Garmin, and slowed the pace to cool down.

I had just run the fastest I had ever run for 20 minutes. Bring on the 5k race! Wow – a 7 minute/mile pace for 20 minutes? Who knew?! Surely, I’m reading someone else’s running log, right? Even now, I’m fighting the urge to think this morning was a fluke.

As I jogged easy for another 20 minutes, I could feel the endorphins flooding my body–my fingers, my toes, my heart, my brain. It was beautiful. My legs took my body for a ride as my heart rate came down to zone 2, and I finished the rest of my workout. Such peace.

From now on, I’m not listening to my brain–it just doesn’t know what it’s talking about. I know this resolution is easier to write here than to actually stick to it. Years of being self-doubt won’t disappear after just one great workout. If that were the case, the negative self-talk would be over. But, I have set a goal to be more mindful about my thoughts, and to find ways to counter the negative self-talk.

I’m looking forward to the challenge. Training based on heart zones will be a step in the right direction. I realized after this morning’s test that I have been regularly undertraining when I run based on pace. I doubt myself; I tell myself I’m not “that fast,” and consequently, this “bad” thinking makes me work under my intensity potential during training which can only result in race performances that are less than I’m capable of. I’ll be looking forward to where this training takes me over the next several months. I’ve got about 27 weeks until Ironman Lake Placid. I’m thinking I’ll be ready for it.

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A defining moment: Max heart rate is just that: the maximum beats per minute that my heart can sustain for a short time, say about a mile of running.  According to Joe Friel, in the The Triathlete’s Training Bible,

“The lactate threshold (LT) is also sometimes called anaerobic threshold. Lactic acid is produced from the breakdown of carbohydrate and becomes lactate that builds up in the blood, a chain reaction that ultimately interferes with muscle contraction. The level of intensity at which accumlation of lactate beings is called the ‘lactate threshold.’ This is a critical event [...] Lactate threshold serves as an intensity ‘landmark.’ Exercising below LT, or working aerobically, is relatively easy and may be continued for hours, depending on an athlete’s fitness level. But the duration of the workout or race must be greatly reduced when exercising above LT, or exercising anaerobically” (p. 44).

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Support Academic Endurance!

Throughout 2010, I’m training and racing for the Iron Scholarship Fund, which will reward academic endurance for students who are economically disadvantaged. My goal is to raise $5,000. So far, I’ve raised $350.00. Find out how you can support The Iron Scholarship Fund, just click http://www.runningalife.com/?page_id=374.

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What Shakespeare has to say about Twitter, training & racing

January 9th, 2010

My Twitter timelines via Tweetdeck.

I love Twitter. Some, like my husband, might even say I have a Twitter “problem.”  I don’t think it’s a problem, really. I just don’t want to spend a day without being able to check my Twitter feed – even if it’s only a quick skim. I look forward to reading the ideas, the information and the experiences shared by my fellow tweeps. How is it that I get so much from a seemingly disjointed collection of 140-character musings?

In Shakespeare’s Hamlet, Lord Polonius (in a rather funny and ironic twist in the dialogue) says to the King and Queen, “Brevity is the soul of wit.” Indeed, Will, indeed. While Lord Polonius was hardly a master of brief oratory, Twitter is a wonderfully useful technological tool for brief exchanges of ideas, information, opinions, and support.

There are some who may wonder if it is possible to share anything meaningful or useful in just 140 characters. I assure you, based on my experiences using Twitter during the previous year, it is absolutely possible. Twitter has many potential uses, which makes it supremely adaptable to the end-user’s goals. For example, my own uses incorporate several goals. I want to survey news, so I use Twitter to catch news headlines. I want information about areas of interest to my research in citizenship and social media.  I’m always looking for channels of communication that will engage my students–Twitter helps with that goal, too. These applications have proven quite valuable to me.

But none of these functions is as significant as what got me hooked to Twitter: the connections I have made to the running and triathlon community.

I first joined Twitter because I research and teach about participatory media. In the interest of knowledge, it seemed necessary that I at least check it out so I could be conversant.  At first, I didn’t think much of it. I thought it was simply a glorified Facebook, without some of the functionality of that “other” social network. Wow, was I wrong! Once I got the hang of the software platform, and figured out how to use searches to find topics and people to follow, I quickly realized how useful Twitter could be. Now, I rarely start my day without checking tweetdeck or my mobile.

I’ve had the good fortune to find and follow some of the best athletes in running and triathlon. In their tweets, retweets and replies, I have found support, training tips, and motivation. I was even lucky enough to find a coach, who will help me achieve my 2010 goals (shout out to @coachprs!). While John and I know several runners and triathletes who live right here in the Atlantic City area, Twitter has introduced me to a much larger community of people, all across the country–and globe–who have a collective wealth of knowledge that has been invaluable to my training.

For example, Twitter introduced me to the honest and heartfelt blog of @alitherunner, who has been on an incredible journey to be where she is today. The other morning, I read an article that was posted by @GregKnottLeMond about the dangers of drinking too much water. With a healthy fear of hyponatraemia, a condition which results from the intake of too much fluid, I found this article interesting and useful. I read a blog post from @swapontherun, which also talked about the value of social media for training, and another blog from @mikmoore924, who is training and racing to raise money for Team-in-Training. When I was training for the Bassman, I discovered that @eyrleighsdaddy and I were using the same training plan. He was a week ahead of me (prepping for a different half iron), so I was able to get feedback about what was in store. We also shared support for the race day, and war stories once it was over. @RunMikeRun1 provides a key example of how brevity is indeed the soul of wit: “I feel ripped off! The label on the yogurt covered pretzels says 8 servings but there was only 1.” I, too, have issues with wimpy portions. When you are working out several hours a day, a “normal” portion doesn’t quite cut it. (I have the grocery bills to prove it!) And, there’s so much more. If you aren’t already on Twitter, you should check it out.

When I was in graduate school, I had done some research about online communities. At the time, I was quite skeptical about whether an online forum could create “real” community. Today, I’m not so skeptical. I have found a collective of others, with a shared interest in endurance sports, a shared commitment to training, and a shared sense of connection to each other. We have become tied to each other, 140 characters at a time. Granted, some connections are tighter than others – as is the case with any community. You can see the depth and breadth of these connections each Friday when many provide recommendations for whom to follow as part of the “Follow Friday” meme.

There are many ways that this community constructs and re-constructs itself through 140 communicative bits. When a fellow tweeter has a bad day, you will frequently see others send words of support or empathy. Others may tweet that they lack motivation, and  in response to this post will come 140-character shout-outs of encouragement or good-natured teasing. When someone has a rockstar workout or race, you can count on the community to celebrate in their success. I’ve experienced all of these situations, and it makes me appreciate these “strangers” who have become an important part of my running life. When John (@saltyrunnr) joined Twitter a week or so ago, I sent a tweet that said, “Welcome my husband @saltyrunnr. He just joined twitter 3 minutes ago.” In another 3 minutes, he had a dozen followers, and several people sent shout-outs, welcoming him to “Twitterverse.” It’s like hanging out and talking with friendly running and triathlete folks at a race–but without having to wait for a race! I trust the advice and suggestions of the people I follow.

Of course, Twitter is not a substitute for other types of communication and interaction. I don’t want anyone to mistake me for an alienated, isolated individual who spends hours pouring over the Twitter timeline. (Although, on some days, I do find it difficult to pull myself away from the screen…) Rather, Twitter is a complement to my face-to-face encounters, as well as other types of technology-aided communication, such as blogs or social network sites such as Facebook. For example, I link Twitter to my blog and to Facebook (and vice versa), and find that the synergy from having linked multiple platforms for expression is beneficial for strengthening my connections with others–whether they are my followers on Twitter, or my friends and family. Along with other technological innovations (such as language itself), Twitter allows me to communicate with others, and in so doing enhance my experience and understanding of the human condition.

While brevity continues to be the soul of wit, I have found that it can also be the heart of a community. Happy training!

**If you are new to Twitter, or want to know more about it, I recommend watching a brief video from the folks at Common Craft: “Twitter in Plain English.” For those who want even more information about Twitter, I highly recommend Mashable’s Twitter Guidebook.

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