“Slow” has become pretty much my normal jam these days.
With the exception of getting to the local brewery to pound back a few “couple beers” after work, there is very little that I ever do outside this “slow” parameter anymore. You could even go so far to say that I have making judge strides with the whole “Mañana” approach to working out and as such, I’ve been stockpiling an approximate shit ton of calories around my gut. In fact, my belly more or less continues to press outward against my waistband, ceaselessly, in an ever-expanding cosmos around my ballooning ass.
It sure ain’t been pretty.
Anyway, I received an email the other day from the Brock University Kinesiology Lab looking for “volunteers” for their next upcoming series of scientific testing involving “Critical Power” which, while still managing to sound like a schmaltzy name for an early 70’s smooth country band, also kinda scares me a little too.
To that regard, I decided then that it was time to begin getting back out on the bike; and not just any bike, but my newish EVO Stone Ridge mountain bike. You see, indoor trainer workouts aren’t really my thing. Actually, technology is my biggest limiter as my inevitably trying to buy, install and sync my bike to the computer would cause me either a massive coronary or a divorce, but I digress … I don’t spin indoors on my own much; like, at all. Similarly, I haven’t been able to loop into and join any “spin” classes at the local YMCA’s that I either enjoy*, or can make regularly.
So that leaves me no other option but to keep riding outside, or so has always been the initial plan anyway.
However, “my favourite workout” didn’t really materialize last winter as I didn’t really have any special competitions to prepare for nor the motivation to freeze my balls off unnecessarily, so my mountain bike has more or less been living in the shed for a year.
Lately though, especially since I will soon have to run the gauntlet of body fat measuring and VO2max testing, not to mention having to don my bib shorts in public once again, I have begun to bring “Eva” out of the shed to explore this whole mountain biking thing.
And by “mountain biking”, I mean actual mountain biking** and not just riding to and from the YMCA through the snow along the Friendship Trail but, again … I digress.
My first real ride was last weekend where I took Eva out and rode along the shores of Lake Erie between Bernard Beach and the end of Thunder Bay Rd., along the leftover cracked and crushed sea shells, small pebbles and rocks, washed up roots and vegetation, packed sand, and just about anything else that got in my way. As far as difficulty is concerned, I’m sure this wouldn’t even register for most seasoned and gnarly mountain but, for me, it was thrilling. Today, I rode the infamous “Hydro Hill” (and damn near died in the process!) in St. Catharines and then around the “easy” network of trails around Brock University and the Glenridge Quarry Naturalization Site.
Now, I have to say as a devout roadie: mountain biking is absolutely alien feeling.
It’s a total apples and oranges kind of difference actually.
First off, mountain bikes are bigger and heavier. Now this might seem like a completely “duh” kind of thing to point out here but, really, when one has only ever had to heft their light ass road bike into the back of the car – rather effortlessly I might add – suddenly fitting the mountain bike takes a little more strategy, configuration and muscle. My fear now is that if I continue to get used to loading and unloading this wheeled beast into my car, the next time I go to do the same in the spring with my beloved road bike, I’m likely to forget how light it is and accidentally launch it into orbit after I go to pick it up expecting it to be much heavier.
Secondly, mountain bikers dress differently. I passed only two other riders out today and they looked, well, relaxed and comfortable while I’m out here trying to make do with my recycled roadie gear.
Seriously, I might as well have been riding a penny farthing.
Regardless, neither of those differences really matter much when it comes down to it performance-wise so, really, what benefit is this mountain bike going to provide me?
Specifically, what are the immediate and noticeable differences that might positively enhance my fitness and, ultimately, serve my endgame of not being a complete and utter pussy come time I walk back into the Brock lab.
Well, two minutes into my first taste of off-roading over “soft” trails and I already knew this was going to be a very different ride. Out on the road, remaining alert to obstacles and potential threats in the road of course, I am mostly keyed into the traffic around me and absorbing the usual hustle and bustle of road riding, all the while trying to identify potential risks and threats around me (unless of course, you’re lucky to enjoy miles and miles of quiet, paved and seldom-used country roads).
On the trail, it was quiet.
Like … creepy quiet.
Likewise, there were no exhaust fumes to breathe or any of the unusual funky roads smells that waft through your nostrils as you cycle past.
It just all smelled crisp, fresh and awesome.
I have to say, there was nothing quite like the feeling of whooshing down the Niagara Escarpment through the woods with squirrels scattering and birds taking startled flight; the sound of my 2.8″ tires crunching through the frozen leaves and twigs; frozen booger stuck to the side of my cheek; the look of mad and unbridled exhilaration in my eye.
If ever there was “gnarly”, certainly this was it!
While I admit that I enjoy the meditative aspect to long distance road riding, the inevitability is that you’re also going to share the road with other nitwits making hasty, impatient decisions in navigation, except that they’re wrapped in a metal box and you’re not.
Sure there are things out on the trails to be wary of, but I am wagering that a tree is sure going to be a more forgiving when you run into it than, say, a moving Dodge Caravan.
Also on similar (yet different) note, your Strava maps tend to look a bit more, well … erratic.
In comparison to my long summer rides that tend to follow long roadways that form some sort of “loop” beginning and ending at your doorstep, the map for today’s ride on Strava looked more like the flight path of a drunken bumblebee.
Behold:
Keep in mind that all this seemingly random meandering all over God’s creation happened within a mere 12 kilometers.
Yup, that’s it.
Oh, and even just that took me a whole 46 minutes to boot!
For my complex roadie lizard brain, that’s some crazy time and space shit to comprehend.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t bother getting suited up for a mere 12 kilometers out on the road as I would be done those 12 kilometers in a shorter time than it would take me to initially get ready in the first place.
However, here I was completely spent; huffing and puffing like an asthmatic orangutan.
Just look at my heart rate in the first few minutes as I made my first ever ascent of the dreaded 500m long “Hydro Hill” beginning at the base of the escarpment:
I haven’t spiked my heart into the 160’s in eons, much less in the first three minutes!
In truth, road riding is primarily spinning at high cadences for long periods which serve to enhance your cardiovascular fitness, but (as I am learning) mountain biking is much, much different. Mountain biking requires much more dynamic fitness – from quick bursts to sustained cardio output – and incorporates many more muscle groups.
Let me tell you, my lungs were a-burnin’ even though I wasn’t anywhere near the speeds that I would normally associate for this kind of fatigue.
The gravel trails and single dirt tracks had more varied terrain than the paved roads I usually ride. Short, steep rises and obstacles require explosive power bursts to ride without losing momentum. Single track with rocks, roots, switchbacks and other obstacles demand repeated power bursts and highly fluctuating pedaling forces. I am equating this to the same type of power required to wind up my beloved morning sprints, accelerate out of a corner, close a gap in a road race, or even ride away from my completion altogether as I like to try and do from time to time.
(Honestly, I just don’t want to die or shit myself on the Velotron next month)
Truth of the matter is, I’m more or less starting over again at this point. My fitness is lost, my drive has all but fizzled out and I’m in desperate need to get back into into with passion (aside from my bed that is). So once our little family has finished our “Big Nash Family Christmas Cruise” next week, it’ll be back ‘at er for good in the New Year and, hopefully, this mountain biking thing will play a major role.
*Yes, I can be somewhat of an indoor cycling snob.
**Okay, there’s no real mountain per se, but there certainly wasn’t any paved pathway either.
It has been nearly four months of pretty much inactivity.
Well, not really inactivity, per se, but definitely nothing resembling itself as “training”. I have been swimming, riding my bike for fun and even hitting the weights from time to time, albeit not with any sense of urgency or dedicated frequency.
In fact, if I had to use a word to describe my current fitness regimen it would be “mixed”, as in ‘Sweet & Sour Mix’, ‘Soft & Chewy Mix’, ‘Chicago Mix’, etc., and so forth.
And, of course, I also love beer and I’ve been indulging again because, yeah, first it’s the lighter, flavorful, fruity Summer saisons and then it’s Autumn IPA’s and Harvest Ales and now it’s the dark Winter stouts and porters and, yeah … you see what I mean?
Who has time for workouts?
Anyway, as has been the custom, I’ve usually drifted back into some sort of structured workout schedule by now and, of course, that schedule is preceded by the obligatory “Looking Ahead” blog post – this post – so here it is.
Truth is, I haven’t really felt the urge to train yet.
In fact, it’s been quite the opposite.
I’ve felt the need to be lazy.
And, so far, I have been ‘okay’ with that.
It’s not my being “unmotivated” so much (remember the Ironfunk?), as it is my confidently reading my body as needing a prolonged break from any hard, dedicated training program – such as it has been for the past three years.
Instead, I wanted to have fun, go slow, sleep in in the morning, explore new roads with Hailey, relax in the water and casually work on my stroke development, catch-up with all the friends I didn’t have the time for while training, end rides with a drink at the local Brewery … that sort of thing.
I might have even done some yard work at some point.
(Crazy, I know!)
And I have done all these things and it’s been absolutely glorious.
Believe me.
I’ve enjoyed the time off one hundred and ten percent; no guilt whatsoever.
However …
Yup.
It’s time again to begin think about shifting gears back into some sort of well-thought out, established training program. Having said that, seeing as how I’m not returning to long distance Ironman racing next summer, what does that new training program even look like?
Hmm.
That’s interesting.
I’ve become something of a “long distance guy” if you will – short course racing was for pussies. And now here it is, it’s no longer “go longer”, it’s “go faster”.
That’s one serious paradigm shift.
By now, I’d already be thinking in terms of distance and time spent doing stuff (such as distance), specifically running and particularly on the weekends.
Currently though, I haven’t so much as even run outside since my July 7th Ironman (click HERE).
I could, sure, I’ve just chosen not to.
So, before I get into anything resembling “training”, I first have to reinitiate the “train to train” program; preparing my body for the stressful rigors that will more come in the new year. That gives me two more months of strength building, core routines, and shorter more intense workouts as opposed to those long weekend grinds and slogs.
Oh, and fuck … I guess that means I have to give up the mixes in favor of healthier snack fare.
I’m not giving up my beer though … yet.
This post then I suppose, is my way of working out and formalizing my fitness goals going forward over the next few months leading to another off season (and, hopefully, injury free) training program. The current plan for next summer is to return to short course racing (Sprints and Olympics) with the longest event potentially being the Rose City Long Course Triathlon in June.
So, yeah, the old fat guy has to now learn how to go fast.
No problem, right?
Priority #1 then has to be (as it always is I might add) to lose weight.
Ultimately, what I would like to do is to replace my newly acquired post-Ironman beer belly* with strong, explosive muscle.
This has never been an easy task for me.
The muscle building part, sure, I can do that … looking forward to it actually.
The dieting part, however … not so much.
Particularly given that I’m not giving up my craft beer.
Regardless, beginning Monday I am going to kickstart a regular strength program; namely, by revitalizing my currently lingering “Core Project” or my even worse off home yoga practice. Rather, the goal is to simply accomplish five days’ worth of on the mat functional strength and core exercises, whether in the mornings before work or prior to other workouts in the evenings after work. Likewise, I’d like to accomplish two days of strong muscle building – one session being a hot “Me on Me” session with the heavy iron, the other an instructor lead circuit training or boot camp style training class; or something that also starts to rebuild my mental toughness and aerobic conditioning as well.
Ideally, this portion of the plan would take approximately 3-4 hours of my overall week, perhaps more if the motivation moves me.
To track this overall “fat to fit” progress, I am going to start tracking my weight each morning and set for myself a target goal to lose 1 lb. of fat per week.
Currently, I am weighing in at a humbling and husky 224 lbs.
Ideally, I’d like to be down to around 185 lbs. by springtime (June).
40-ish lbs is ambitious, I realize.
But “go hard or go home”, amiright?
Priority #2, as much as it pains to say (type) it, is to begin running again.
Yes.
Run.
Sadly, the time has come once again to lace up the sneakers and pound the pavement.
In the last few months, I’ve only managed a single short treadmill run and one easy(ish) track session; definitely nothing too strenuous. Eventually, I will need to transition into more interval based fartleks and speed workouts (which, honestly, I might even consider doing on a treadmill this winter) and, yes, even start up a weekend “long distance” run program once again.
The good news in all this is twofold: 1) none if it needs to be too lengthy right now seeing as how I will likely be doing nothing more than 15k to, maybe, a half marathon to keep things interesting and, 2) seeing as how I am also concentrating on building strength, I can focus (in part or in full) on completing portions of my runs aimed at completing running drills and plyometrics which, truthfully, might even be fun seeing as how it’s going to be so new and different.
Perhaps it will be my new mechanism for escaping reality’s chronic Shit Show, who knows?
Whatever it happens to be, the focus then in these early stages will remain more on establishing form, strength, weight loss and general fitness as opposed to distance and endurance.
Part and parcel with this new run program will be my also breaking out the ‘Ready to Run: Unlocking Your Potential to Run Naturally’ book by Dr. Kelly Starrett and once again start developing good running habits and practices; namely proper warm-up and cool down practices as well as successful pre- and post workout fueling.
Lord knows when I’m going to actually run, but I’m figuring I’m going to have to make peace with running once or twice a week in the dark, whether it be early morning or in the evening.
I guess the good news in all this is that I get to grow my winter beard once again.
Whoo-ha!
Ideally, I’d like to run three times a week; one for easy distance with some plyometric’s and drills thrown in for good measure, one faster paced interval workout whether it be outside, or on the treadmill or track, and one run with no solid plan whatsoever other than the expressed purpose of, say, getting outside and getting some fresh air while burning some calories. If I feel like doing more in the moment on these easy unstructured runs, I will, or maybe I might just say ‘fuck it’ altogether and make snow angels instead … who knows?
I’ll probably hate it regardless because, well, running … but I’m trying to remain positive in the meantime.
Of course, I will apply more structure come the New Year but for the time being, I just need to begin getting ‘ol Thunder n’ Lightning back in the game somewhat by getting them used to turning over once again after a near four month furlough; maybe 2-3 hours a week.
As far as swimming goes, I have some new drills I have been working on recently and for the time being, I am going to remain focused on my form and stroke development as well as doing lots of paddle work to continue building that swim-specific muscle memory I have become obsessed with.
To this end, I am also going to begin initiating my favorite workout (click HERE) every once and awhile on the weekend, specifically in lieu of an exciting announcement I’ll be making in the near future. It may not have to be every weekend, of course, but it is a perfect way to fit in some nice easy kilometers on the bike while I can still ride outside comfortably and, well, I did say before that I find it fun right?
As far as the bike goes, I’m still backing off the bike for a bit and keeping my cycle program to just getting out whenever I can, whether it be a simple quickie on my classic steel with Hailey or another riding buddy, or maybe on my mountain bike just for a change of pace. I needn’t be doing a lot of cycle training yet that I won’t already also be doing as part of my strength building plan so I’m not giving myself any real “goal hours” to accomplish weekly in the saddle. For the time being, I’ll just keep pedaling whenever I feel fit and inspired to do so, knowing only too well that those sweaty, sucky indoor hill and time trial efforts will begin with the New Year as well.
Worse comes to worse, when the shitty weather really takes affect outside I will consider doing short spins in the morning (instead of the erg as is currently my habit) at the gym where I can just plug into some tunes and turn my brain off for 45 minutes or so. Again, nothing needs be too crazy with my cycling at the moment so I’m not going to stress about it; I’ll take that stress out on the participants of my Monday evening Masters spin class.
In total, in some form or fashion, I’d be very happy if I can successfully clock around 8-10 hours weekly on rebuilding my triathlon specific conditioning.
I recognize that this might not happen each and every week as there are still family things that will take priority from time to time and, hey, fine craft beer doesn’t drink itself does it? Shit, perhaps some weeks I might even go over my weekly goal and that’d be great n’ all, but I’m not going to start counting the hours just yet, rather keep myself on being more active now on a regular daily basis and maybe, justmaybe, I could even substitute the odd side of French fries for a house salad.
Baby steps, ya know?
*It’s true, I’ve gotten chubby again. Everyone thinks so. And by “everyone”, I mean all of my different personalities and my three cats.
It’s now officially February, so where I have been doing a lot of strength training with the heavy iron, the time has come to switch into a more focused swim/run/bike routine. Meaning, of course, especially given that I have also started a new job two weeks ago, I have to now figure out how to keep this acquired physical strength while strategically transitioning into this next phase of longer Ironman-specific training.
Losing a few pounds also wouldn’t be the end of the world either.
So this regard, I tried something new this past Friday: a “Boot Camp”.
This all came about last week when I approached Tamara, the wife of my long time go-to bike guy, about getting some assistance to take my strength training to the next level. That’s when she mentioned that she leads an early “boot camp” on Friday morning that would be perfect for me.
I will admit here I was a bit trepidatious as I have always thought of “Boot Camps” as those trendy fitness classes more aimed at single moms to help shape their derriere’s; hence the other popular name for these classes being “Booty Camps”.
But knowing Tamara as I do, I figured I’d give it a shot thinking that a workout more aimed at plyometric jumping and leaping would be the perfect accompaniment to my newly acquired He-man muscles – ideal even.
But then, the night before, Tamara posts this picture (and caption) to her Facebook page:
“Come check out my fancy toe undies and get a great workout in flexibility, stretching and strength.”
That’s when the panic hit me:
OMG.
“Toe Undies”?
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
After all, nobody needs to see my toenails, believe me.
She then mentioned having extra “tu-tu’s” for the class and I was almost:
Still, having made the commitment I decided to show up anyway.
After all, how hard can a “Booty Camp” be?
Then again, you might also remember this shit show from three years ago (click HERE).
Only one way to tell, I guess.
So far, I have only attended two classes but they are exactly the kinds of workouts I still need to be doing providing I can drag my lazy ass out of bed at 4:30am to make the 40 minute drive into St. Catharines.
This is the nicest way possible to say that I did enjoy it.
I’m not sure I’ll look any different in my cycling tights come Springtime but having someone push you through those difficult sets of plyometric-based exercises sure is the kind of strength-building program that I like to endorse not because they don’t require a lot of tools that can’t be recreated at home with simple every day households items, but because it targets all those useful functional muscles you tend to use and abuse in long distance triathlon training.
And, hey, if at the end of the day this “booty” looks a little better in my daily work khakis’, well, I’m okay with that too.
Turning this Frankenstein into “Franken Fine” wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.
Just sayin’…
Be all that it may, for the next 50 minutes I handed my fat ass literally handed to me by a toe-undied She-Devil adorned in a tutu through sets of sled pushes, crunches, push-ups, lunges, and, oh sweet Jesus, every movement and exercise known to mankind to absolutely suck, particularly these vile things called “Man Maker’s”, which have made perfectly clear to me that I am apparently not a man.
The shame of which, I doubt I will ever get over.
Throw one of those fucking ‘Burpees’ into the mix and you have the perfect mix of Punky Brewster-like cuteness and enthusiasm with a gruesome Rob Zombie-esque nightmare of a workout…creepy clowns n’ all. It was the kind of hellish workout from which my testicles instantly retreated back into my abdomen to hide in fear once Tamara started to walk us through the class plan which included seven separate “stations”, each consisting of two each torturous exercises each.
…
But then again, they say that whatever doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, so Friday mornings 6:00am(providing my work schedule will allow it), my sorry self is starting off the weekend of long haul swim, bike and run workouts with one kick ass of a Booty Camp.
Judge me as you see fit.
But when this winter finally goes away, even if I haven’t managed some of the incalculable hours battled away in front of Zwift on the home trainer as some of my peers will no doubt have, or perhaps pursuing a “February Running Distance Challenge” bullshit thing on Strava, I’ll be counting on these types of simpler (but no less grueling) workouts to allow me the maximum brute strength necessary and when it needs to be called upon while on the bike, in the pool or out pounding pavement on the road later on.
This is going to be my total Rocky IV approach to training this year.
(Albeit in a gym and not a barn)
While the wily opponent is relying on all the new fancy muscle juices and state-of-the-art training equipment, I’ll be out chopping logs, hauling around sacks of rocks, and dragging my ass through mountains of snow.
And I will leave you with this:
If this class leaves me with even half of the physical functional strength as I think it will, then I will happily adorn myself with a pair of these “Toe Undie” whatchamacallit’s and a full French Maid’s tu-tu because, well, laugh while you can because come the inevitable Race Day, that’s likely the last you will see of me when I take off leaving you dumbfounded, gasping for air and swimming upstream through a river of my piss (triathletes will understand that reference).
Or so it plays out in my visions anyway…
So continue on with your empty laps, your virtual races through the night-time streets of Paris, and whatever the newest piece of fancy “GUARANTEED TO PRODUCE RESULTS OR YOUR MONEY BACK!” equipment you found on Ebay during a “Box Day Blowout”, I’ll be taking the old-fashioned route; an honest effort, a desire to success and a well-fitted and stylish tu-tu.
Exactly two months ago today I was in the shape of my life when, poof!, it all disappeared and my life instead took on a completely different type of “Ironman” adventure, one that included having seven titanium pins inserted into my left hand. Not exactly the beginning, or end for that matter, of the 2017 triathlon season that I was hoping for (click HERE for a reminder).
These last two months have certainly not been easy and I have to contend with and endure some very difficult low points but I’m coming through it now; I can begin to see the light at the other end of the tunnel. I figure then that having been exactly two months, it was time to post some sort of follow up on the healing process overall and shed some light on where I currently stand in regards to getting back on the ‘ol proverbial horse as it were.
The first four weeks were certainly the hardest as I struggled to simply deal with the situation (click HERE for that reminder). Thankfully, I have more or less come through that now and am beginning to look to what the future holds for me in regards to the next challenge.
(Insert image of a mythological bird taking flight over smoldering ruins here)
The first issue needing addressing is the weight issue. This was inevitably going to be the case as sitting around in an EZ-Boy unable to do anything isn’t exactly the key to maintaining a healthy and active lifestyle. You know what you don’t want when you’re forced to sit around bored and incapacitated? Salad. Well, not unless you substitute all the lettuce and spinach for, oh I don’t know, Cheetohs. And then swap the tomatoes, onion, and cucumbers for, say, Skittles, Gummy Bears and, peanut butter cups while you’re at it. There.
That makes me feel superb.
So, yeah, I’ve put on a few pounds.
This was always in the cards of course as part of the post-Ironman recovery process, but at least I would have had one momentous accomplishment to look back on and be proud of in order to justify my laziness.
Without that, I’ve just gotten fat.
Period.
This change towards a healthier diet now that I’m beginning to be more active again will begin immediately. Coupled with that, I am going to begin my regular (if not daily) core regimen to begin building back lean muscle and prepare my body to once again (three times the charm!) handle the rigors of all my off-season training. This was likely the smartest thing I did all year in preparation for Ironman so I aim to reinitiate that program. The upshot to all this, is that I also need to regenerate the muscles in my left hand and forearm, so this is also an excellent add-on to my regular physio treatments.
Speaking of building muscle, the biggest challenge at the moment is dealing with the severely atrophied muscles in my legs. When this whole shit storm erupted, I was cycling stronger than I ever have before with a strength and endurance that I had previously never imagined and was on track with being able to accomplish a sub 5 hour 30 minute Ironman bike pace. Now that power is gone. Rather, I have the power, but I can’t maintain it for any significant length of time.
I just don’t have the wherewithal to do the long distances at the moment.
But that’s okay seeing as how my “riding season” was already aimed at being “fun” anyway, in just being able to get out and ride with Hailey and Kelly and I can do that once more. I still have The Big Move to look forward to where I will once again be serving for the 10th time in the capacity as a “sweep” rider, then Hailey and I will attempt our second annual “Daddy-Daughter Bike Adventure” (click HERE for last years’ account) come October. This year the plan is to ride out to Dunnville for brunch (approx. 65k). I still slip in the odd ride on my own however when time and schedule allow and I’m confident that the legs will return in time.
The major challenge right now is swimming where, essentially, I am back to square one.
For anyone who swims (like, really swims) they will understand that swimming is all about form and having an immediate “feel” for the water. The current lack of mobility and muscle in my left hand in part with the severed and regenerating nerve endings after the surgery mean that I’ve now lost this instinctual feel for the water.
however, now that I’m back in the water, the goal is to reacquire this feel and regain my form ASAP so that means drills, drills, paddles and more drills. Getting in the pool 3-4 times a week, even for short distances (1500m-2500m) is a big priority for me right now, having once prided myself on being an accomplished swimmer.
I really want to regain that confidence in the water once again.
Running.
Gah!
I was just getting to a place where I was beginning to feel like a runner after years of trying to make peace with it. Running for me has never been easy. Having said that, by mid-June I was running off-the-bike comfortably and strongly with no adversity, or what’s commonly called among triathletes as “cement legs”. That was definitely huge progress after nearly a decade in the sport. While I might not have been the fastest runner in the field, I was consistent and running with decent form.
Now, with the added weight of two meaty man tits to contend with, that form and consistency have all but evaporated. As with cycling, it’s back to the beginning and as with swimming, that means drills, drills, and more ABC drills. Fortunately, the intense heat and humidity of summer has more or less passed so getting out now for easy(ish) short runs around the surrounding area – even it’s just to visit the neighborhood cat (click HERE) – isn’t the most challenging thing I need to get geared up to accomplish. Once my legs muscle begin to return I will amp up these weekly runs to once again include regular fartleks, hill, speed, tempo and even long distance workouts through the week.
So, physically, I’m coming along nicely and have taken my first few tentative steps (and strokes) along the comeback trail, so to speak.
Mentally?
That’s a bit more daunting.
While I believe that I am on the right path, I’m still impatient and often find myself feeling angry or jealous of others around me who all still in their peak fitness and accomplishing great things. I mean, it’s not them that I am angry with, but the circumstances if that makes sense. I have done all the hard work already – twice – and still have nothing to show for it. And now here I am again dealing with another (more major) setback.
It’s a hard thing to swallow regardless of how well things are going at the moment.
But as my chiropractic guru at Legacy Health & Fitness (also HERE), Dr. Kristin Burr who, I might add, has put this battered and sometimes broken body back together again more times than I can count, mentioned to me last week:
“You’re a real athlete now that you’ve had to deal with this type of serious injury and your ability to get past this is what’s going to define you as an athlete going forward.”
Huh.
I never thought of it quite like that.
Wise person this Dr. Burr.
But it’s true. Everyone loves a comeback. If I can manage to remain patient and not get too weighed down by the incredible psychological mire of doubt, regret and frustration and somehow successfully accomplish all the things I’ve mentioned above (not to mention finding a job) to reacquire my prior “Iron fitness” and – fingers crossed – once and for all complete this Ironman goal, that will be friggin’ huge.
HUGE.
I am very fortunate in that I already have the right team and the successful plan to follow (click HERE), I just need to be able to follow through and pull the trigger once the stars manage to correctly align themselves…whenever that happens to be.
THAT will be something truly epic.
And so that’s my motivation and mental state at the moment:
Be patient. Be smart. All good things to those who persevere.
Today, I was to go forth “once more into the fray” except in light of recent events, that’s obviously not happening any more. No, I’m going to be on a surgery table now gets pins and screws embedded into my hand while you wait patiently in the waiting room; not exactly the kind of hardware I was hoping to add to my collection today.
Hardly the Ironman adventure we planned for the summer.
Had I actually been racing today, I had this whole pre-written letter to you as my way of acknowledging your efforts and thanking you for your ultimate role in the whole execution of today’s intended event. In that regard, nothing much has changed and I still owe you a huge debt of gratitude so with only a few minor edits, here is that planned letter.
Dear wife (ie. ‘The Maker of Black Bean Brownies’, and ‘The Procurer of Early Morning Coffee’):
Today, as I go forth “into the fray once more” I am confident because I am not going alone. Sure, I might be doing all the swimming, cycling and running today it wasn’t through my sole efforts that inevitably brought me to the starting line tomorrow morning.
That was the result of a team effort.
In many regards, you actually had it more challenging than I have. Sure I endured countless hours of pounding pavement, early dips in the canal, and a never ending assortment of aches and pains but you have endured far worse.
In most cases you see me off through the front door whenever I go for a long run or bike ride, give me a kiss and wish me luck. You remind when I leave early in the morning for a swim to be careful and have fun and the coffee is always ready for the drive. And then when I come home afterwards I’m usually exhausted and cranky so you allow me my quiet time to decompress and, of course, I’m hungry so you make sure there is a warm healthy meal waiting for me at some point.
Throughout it all, more often than, you also take on the insurmountable Herculean task of doing my laundry and making sure that all my toxic-smelling workout clothes – each one a festering petri dish of bacteria and contagion – are all washed, dried and ready to go for the next day’s ass-kicking. Seriously, this Sisyphean effort alone must be about as much fun as having holes bored into your ear drum with a rusty drill bit. Oh, and of course there hasn’t been much sexy time lately seeing as how all my bits look and feel like chewed leather after endless rubbing on a bike saddle or being slow-cooked in my running tights. In fact, it’s probably been so long now that I likely couldn’t find your first base anymore without the use of my Garmin.
Probably worst of all, I get down on myself – a lot – especially when things don’t go exactly according to plan and I’m starting to feel like the all-haloed training schedule is stomping me into the ground like a late season gewürztraminer. When this happens, you are always there to comfort me, hand me an ibuprofen and gently remind me that I’m only human being and sometimes as a human being I’m going to fail and that’s…*gasp*…okay. I may not always want to hear it, but I absolutely know you’re 100% right. And on those occasions when I started to doubt myself and lose focus on why I chose to take on this ridiculous challenge, you never lost faith in the magic that is me even though it’s obvious that the easy answer is that either a) I’m an idiot, b) I’m an idiot, or c) all the above.
And let’s not forget how cranky I’ve been over the last few weeks. At the best of times, I’m exhausted, mentally taxed out and, often, my taint is on fire thanks so some god awful bout of chafing in my loins from whatever it was that I last subjected myself to. Basically, I have the disposition of a rabid hyena these days and I’m surprised you haven’t driven a stake through my heart by now. What I’m really saying then is that I’m a real hot mess of sweaty shorts, blister pads and steroid cream, yet you still go to bed with me anyway.
There are a lot of words commonly tossed around when one is training for and competing in an Ironman: pain, commitment, sacrifice, fear, tears, determination, courage, et al. I’m confident that I have the fear and tears all locked up and nailed down, but you certainly have assumed the full brunt of the pain, sacrifice and commitment aspects of that equation; hands downs. I’m not sure which is more daunting but the role you have played in this whole Iron journey is certainly no less difficult or challenging.
Furthermore, while I would have been out swimming, bike, running and otherwise kicking ass today, your day was inevitably going to be a lot less exciting. Essentially, for the entire 12 or 13 hours that I would have been in perpetual motion out on the road you could probably have expected to see me for about 15 to 20 nanoseconds. Realizing that this isn’t exactly the most spectator friendly sport, you came anyway and wouldn’t have complained once about how boring it is once and I realize that no matter how long that challenge would have taken or what shape I’m was in when I accomplished it, I knew you’ll be there at the end of it all cheering like a 16-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. And let’s not forget that what I was going to wear today would likely have made my body look like a topographical map of Utah and yet, for whatever reason, that still wouldn’t have embarrassed or detered you from cheering for me like the rock star I think am anyway. And don’t think that for once second I wouldn’t have appreciated your efforts at becoming my personal Tenzing Norgay for the day having to cart around all my excess gear and post-race necessities.
Honey, Juan Valdez’ donkey wouldn’t have had it that hard and I appreciate you.
And of course, there were the events of one week ago (click HERE).
Of course, there was only one person to call ahead of all others – you.
So for the remainder of the day you did your best to console and comfort me.
Not that I was having any of it, mind you.
Just look at me:
But I did appreciate the intent.
You then relegated yourself to being my chauffeur to and from the plastic surgeon, administered the drugs and just generally kept looking after my general comfort as I deal with the injury and the overall disappointment of loosing my dream (albeit temporary) of being 2x Ironman.
Did my demeanor improve any?
Of course not.
So whatever happens today, for good or for bad (Disclaimer: it was, or likely will be bad), please realize that I love you (more than I ever say) and appreciate all that you have done that has enabled me to be here today and – hopefully – accomplish this momentous goal further (Disclaimer: I didn’t). With me today, besides all the “Nutella bombs“, performance formula and gummy frogs (or in my current condition: Percocets, Tylenol, surgical bandage and gauze), I was to carry your strength and support and likewise use it as fuel to keep going and reach ultimately that finish line…for both of us (Disclaimer: ah, never mind). And once this whole Iron madness is done I’m looking forward to pulling back, slowing down and being more present (promise) the rest of the summer.
This I absolutely promise to follow through with.
Of course, above all else, I’m also anticipating and looking forward to rocking your world on a more regular basis (Disclaimer: once the pain meds wear off that is) so brace yourself woman, as I’m about to put all this endurance training to good use once again.
Fortunately, I have lots of leftover lubricating cream and anti-inflammatories we can use.
This morning I began my taper; sweet, sweet taper.
Well, technically, I suppose that my taper began with that second helping of pecan pie last night, but I digress…
However, prior to this morning this weekend was full of challenges including a full 180k Ironman simulation ride with a 60 minute brick afterwards (click HERE) and then another half marathon early yesterday morning (click HERE). So that’s nearly 10 hours (220k) of either pedaling or running which, believe me, gives one lots of time to contemplate life and their place in it. Well, that’s when I’m not either focused on the increasing numbness in my ass, the stiffness in my legs, the stupid crosswind, the heat and humidity (not to my well-defined cyclists burn), worrying about whether or not my Snickers bar is being reduced to a liquid puddle on my crossbar, or the developing chafing going on in places you don’t even want to hear about.
So. Much. Chafing.
Anyway, for a significant amount of time when I was otherwise distracted by the above, I contemplated what is going to occur in two short weeks: namely, my second full Ironman distance race which also happens to be my first triathlon in nearly two years.
Because, hey, when you make a comeback it may as well be BIG, right?
I thought about what a crazy situation this is, including the original setback last year (click HERE), and then again this year (click HERE), and then the injury to kick off 2017 (click HERE) and then, well, let’s just say the entire past two years has been one crazy rollercoaster of emotion.
And in less than two weeks the entire journey finally comes to fruition.
And even though I haven’t even toed the starting line yet (July 8th), just to get to this point I owe a metric shit ton of gratitude to a lot of people who have either supported me, guided me or just plain put up with my whiny bullshit.
First and foremost, I need to acknowledge the huge and vitally important roll my wife and partner Kelly, as well as my step-daughter Hailey has played in this entire process. Essentially, they have allowed me to be non-present for the past 3 months in order to swim, bike and run a stupid amount of time through the week and then again on the weekends. And there’s the feeding me, keeping my never-ending “stinkies” clean, and putting up with my (as of late) deep-rooted grouchiness. None of what I have accomplished through this training process would have been possible without either of their support and dedication to the goal at hand.
Love you girls!
I also need to acknowledge the coach, Nicole van Beurden for not only laying out the master plan but also allowing me to grow and develop through this entire process through failing time and time again and not allowing me to become too discouraged with myself and reinforcing the positive (click HERE). In other words, it’s not always about the “Suck it up buttercup and get ‘er done you sissy!” philosophy of long distance that many of us are no doubt conditioned to accept as part of “The Plan”. Making the decision to go rogue and become a lone wolf in this whole “Ironman: Part 2” quest, without the immediate support and social comradery of other like-minded athletes as part of a local triathlon club, also meant that I had to endure lots and lots and lots of alone time. So what this also inevitable meant is that Nicole also became a part-time on-call psychiatrist able to receive lots of last minute “cry baby” calls from yours truly when things either went wrong, or I was just feeling sorry for myself.
If anyone is looking for an awesome coach and mentor, look no further.
Thank you, Nicole.
And, of course, I need to acknowledge my three incredible sponsors who were both kind enough to support and believe in the little guy (figuratively only). Jason Pizzicarola and Nadine Foerstenberg (and the whole staff) at Brimstone Brewing, Matt MacGregor at Crave Local Fresh, and Brandon George McGuire at in.cep.tion cyclery and head guru for the UnRoyal Ride Ambassadors -URRA, of which I am thrilled to be a part. Between these three amazing local enterprises, not only have I an amazing new race suit to sport (seriously, it’s pretty bad ass: click HERE) but a cause to race for. They have kept me hydrated (beer is a hydrator, right?), fueled with delicious local fare, my bike tuned and ready to go and, often, just the inspiration to get out the door and train!
Basically, I am one lucky son of a bitch to have such amazing team to support me and there’s not a day that goes by when I am not grateful for these folks taking the ultimate risk on me.
Thank you.
I will not let you down.
Also, when this whole Ironman craziness is done, I’m looking forward to continuing representing you during my planned fun group rides in and out The Sanctuary beginning in July.
Beer and pretzel bites for everybody!
(stay tuned friends)
I also want to acknowledge Dr. Kristen Burr at Legacy Health & Performance in St. Catharines, Ontario for dealing with all my ouchies and owies which are inevitably part of the Ironman process. When cooler heads needed to prevail after I had gone and got myself all worked after consulting “Dr. Google” and come to the conclusion that immediate amputation was necessary, Dr. Burr was there to get me back on the healing path quickly and painlessly. Sometimes, I also walk out with a good book suggestion to boot.
And then there’s Cori Dodds, and Ben McDermot and the entire amazing staff at the YMCA located at the Vale Health and Wellness Center in Port Colborne YMCA for not only being friendly and supportive, but also for allowing me some flexibility through the off-season to both train as well as keeping Hailey occupied and productive whilst I train. I realize that I can be a right difficult SOB sometimes (Hailey too I am guessing), so I appreciate you all for not having suspended my membership by now.
There’s my friend Stephen Apps who also took on the daunting challenge this year of training and participating in this year’s Frank & Friends 10k Swim for Strong Kidswith me. They say that “misery loves company” and when it comes to doing ridiculous amounts of laps, Steve was all aboard.
Thank you, my friend.
There’s Lucio Gismondi and the whole gang that participates early every Tuesday and Thursday morning as part of the RONA ride for pushing me hard over 40k worth of headwind and relentless pace work up and down the Niagara Parkway. Every day I don’t get dropped is a good day and as a result I haven’t cycled this strong in, well, ever really.
It’s an honor to share the road with you beasts.
Essentially, as the old say goes: “Ittakes a village to raise a child”.
Well, so too does an Ironman triathlete and, really, my villagers are pretty fucking incredible. Without them it is doubtful that I would have even made it this far, much less be as prepared and ready as I am.
Likewise, I am going to be doing my absolute best come July 8th in order to make sure that all your support and dedication to my Ironman journey go fully realized and, rest assured, I will acknowledging you all at some point in spirit over those long 226.1 kilometers.
I appreciate you all and I am humbled just to be representing this incredible community of people.
“Sometimes it is the people who no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine.”
About two weeks ago I noticed I wasn’t attacking my normal weekly workouts with quite the same enthusiasm. Sure, I was still on the mend with a nagging run injury but everything was still looking up with some decent 90 minute tempo rides on the trainer and decent mileage in the pool.
But, still, I wasn’t looking forward to the workouts themselves.
And then last week I slept through a swim workout on the Friday and on Sunday, I attempted an anticipated long swim of about 7,000m, except that after a mere 2,000m I pulled the plug.
I just didn’t want to be doing it anymore.
It’s not that I was fatigued, or sore, or anything like. Truthfully, I felt fine physically…keeping in mind that I also completed 5 hours of spinning the day before for the Move for Strong Kids Campaign at the Port Colbourne YMCA (Saturday) and then a 10k run on that morning prior to hopping in the pool.
But mentally, I just didn’t have it in me…so time for a break.
Now to add a bit of perspective on this, two years ago I would have told myself to “buck up, sissypants” and continued on with the training.
“Breaks are for pussies.”
But we all know how that turned out in the end: click HERE and HERE.
So recognizing these signs and then making the decision to take seven days off, I think, represents a significant amount of growing maturity on my part as an athlete.
YAY ME!
Having saying this, an entire week off was always in the training plan and in this case it couldn’t have come at a better time. So all I have done this week is my 15 minute core every afternoon, hydrate like a beast, a little bit of yoga and a whole lotta sitting around. As well, I’ve been chatting with Coach Nicole and in one of our chats she mentioned this little tidbit:
“Ironman is one of those things where when you hit a low spot, you can sometimes hit a reeeeeeeeally low spot and when you ask yourself why you’re there, doing this crazy thing, you REALLY need to know the answer to that question! It’s what’ll always get you through the dips.”
Of course, this got me to thinking this afternoon: why am I doing this?
Of course, I’ve pondered this question numerous times already and have likely offered many rationalizations on several posts to this blog already but in the spirit of “Recovery Week” this week, I’m revisiting this question again.
Why am I doing this?
To the coaches point, if that answer is not immediately obvious then perhaps it’s time to reevaluate what it is I really want to accomplish through this Ironman process.
Fair enough.
After all, there has to more to the big picture than regular suffering and ultimate burnout, right?
However, easier to answer is the reason why I am not doing it.
For example, I do not think that I am special or gifted in any way relating to endurance sports; I’m just a guy and pride has nothing to do with this.
Sure triathlon represent s big accomplishment over what my life used to be (click HERE for the last part of the whole transformation story and links back to the beginning) but I am not doing it because I have any real gift for it and am looking for any bragging rights. I couldn’t necessarily have said that in the past but, now, this is certainly true.
In other words, I realize that I am not a professional; Lionel Sanders I am not. I have to work stupid hard simply to make it to the starting line, much less to the finish. Sometimes I do well, and other times I completely tank it (click HERE and HERE for some reminders). Of course I’m not suggesting that professionals like Lionel Sanders don’t work hard but, hey, let’s face it, they have the “gift”.
I do not.
Also, it’s their job.
I’m just an Average Joe and that means that I have other responsibilities in life and need to be more strategic in the way that I approach everything…family, earning a pay check, and training included.
Likewise, I’m no spring chicken anymore. If I go and pound out a 12 kilometer fartlek run, or spend 90 minutes doing hill repeats on the bike, I’m likely going to be sore the next day and can’t necessarily do as much the next day where even 5 years ago I probably could.
So, again, I need to be smarter and focus less on what others are doing (mileage, hours, etc.) and more on what is right for own body and lifestyle, seeing as how I also have a day job and two very engaged girls in my life who also want to spend time with me.
Mark Twain said it best, “everything popular is wrong” (thanks Nicole) and it’s really amazing how you start to view and react to the world and people and situations differently when you begin to view life through that lens.
Knowing and understanding these things is HUGE.
First and foremost, I’m a dad and a husband so part and parcel with that are the daily and weekly responsibilities around having a happy and functional family life, therefore training always has to take the back seat (albeit, my wife will likely dispute that a bit). While I aim to be a rock star on the race course, I also aspire to be a rock star at life, namely at home and one simply cannot do that if I’m a) never around, or b) tired and broken 24/7.
There needs to be a “symbiotic relationship”.
There’s the Coach being all smart n’ shit again.
I didn’t have those responsibilities before.
It was always about me.
So if I’m feeling burnt out, taking a break isn’t the end of the world. In all honesty, it’s damn good thing! It’s a resetting and recharging period to focus on the family and having a little fun, and get my mental and physical strength back so I can proceed to do it all over again in the coming weeks and, maybe, in two more months I will even do it once more.
Who knows?
But back to the question at hand, why am I doing this?
I guess my reason nowadays is that I want to set a good example for not only my daughter but my community. I want to represent what it takes to be a good father, husband, community member (after all, I have local sponsors now to support! *giggle*) and, yes, an Ironman – and, of course, I enjoy piecing together the parts of making the whole epic scene come together.
I want to epitomize what is possible with dedication and focus.
I like having a physical challenge to rise to but, lately, I’m also enjoying the puzzle of putting it altogether so that not only does it happen but that there are no regrets in the end. Even after Ironman Wales in 2012, I went into a profound “Ironfunk”. Great that I did well n’ all, don’t get me wrong – but it was nearly two years before I even started to feel like myself again. In fact, it’s only now 5 years later that I’m actually getting around to doing it again.
I don’t want that happen this time around.
I would even like to think that I might even do it yet again. Qualifying for Kona was originally the endgame when I started this blog, right?
Yes, I know I was still riding high on my laurels of completing my first Ironman at the time, but still…
Who knows?
My goal now is to obviously complete this thing in July and feel like I did my absolute best, competing to the level that I believe is within me.
However, and most importantly, I want to finish it feeling good and ready to tackle the next challenge down the road whatever that might be. I want to inspire my daughter to realize that she can do things that might at first seem difficult, even impossible…if she just puts the technology down for a few seconds. Life and everything in it is a gift. And knowing that just last week, my body’s central nervous system was on the verge of collapse, well, pushing through it just didn’t seem to be in keeping with this last objective, does it?
Onward and forward…
So I have one more day of tomorrow and then, come Monday, it’s back nose to the grindstone with a renewed vigor.
This evening then, it’s records, maybe a wee drinky poo and bullshit session at the bar courtesy of The Sanctuary and simply enjoying the little things in life.
Just in case you needed some extra motivation today to get out there and at ’em, may I introduce to you Sister Madonna Ruder who, at 86 years young, has already completed 40-some odd Ironman competitions.
I mean, after the first two dozen or so, who’s really keeping track?
When I was growing up in St. Catharines, Ontario, we lived fairly close to the Welland Canal. For those you not in the know, the Welland Canal is a ship canal which connects Lake Ontario to Lake Erie., traversing the Niagara Peninsula from Port Weller to Port Colborne. The canal forms a key section of the St. Lawrence Seaway, enabling ships to ascend and descend the Niagara Escarpment and bypass Niagara Falls.
So, yeah, it’s kind of a thing in this area.
Anyway, the canal played a major role in my life as a kid as we would take many a family picnic on the weekends to the Lock 3 Viewing Complex (now called the Welland Canal Center) to watch the ships pass. When foreign vessels passed through we could toss coins out onto the ships deck and the deck hands would often toss back their own foreign currency (I still have these coins in an old tin on our mantelpiece at home – click HERE). As a kid, this was my first exposure to the outside world. Other times, we would walk our dogs down to the canal and play along the many footpaths that existed between the current canal and the old (3rd) canal which ran more or less perpendicular to the modern one.
On some occasions, my buddies and I would ride our bikes along the Canal Rd. which ran alongside the entire length of the canal in St. Catharines down to Lock One where my dad worked nearby at a factory. I remember these bike rides as being long, arduous trips that took most of the day. I now know, of course, that the total round trip distance was only around 25 to 30 kilometers or so but, still, when you were riding an orange Schwinn bike with a banana seat and ape handle bars, it may as well been a stage of the Tour de France.
I bring this all up now, because one of the features I remember well from the Welland Canal, as popular as any of the ships we saw regularly, was a guy named Dennis, or as my dad had nicknamed him, “The Roadrunner”.
On any given day, most days usually, you’d see Dennis running along Canal Rd. down to Lock One and then back again. He’d be lumbering along the side of the road (this was long before there was a convenient footpath), topless, with a steely look on his face. Now, knowing how far that distance seemed on my bike, I thought Dennis must be certifiably superhuman.
In essence, Dennis was my earliest recollection of long distance running. I wondered what would drive someone to run such long distances. Did he do it voluntarily? Did he actually enjoy it?
Judging by the expressionless look on his face, I couldn’t tell for sure.
God only knows.
Now, contemplating both the distance and time it must have taken him to run that distance, never mind the frequency in which he did it, well, let’s just say that my tiny little lizard brain just couldn’t conceive why anyone would do such a thing. Not knowing anything about marathons or endurance sports, I just figured he was crazy.
Why am I bringing this all up now?
Well, let’s fast forward nearly 25 years to 2012.
This was the year I first really got acquainted with long distances as I was preparing for my Ironman. My weekly mileage on the road that year averaged somewhere in the neighborhood of 60-70 kilometers a week depending on the schedule. Often, I used the same Canal Rd. route for these runs. Needless to say, I had lots of time to think and reflect and, of course, some of those random thought processes have already been recorded here in these blog posts.
One of the things I sometimes found myself thinking back to (especially when running Canal Rd.) was ‘ol Dennis and how incredibly superhuman he seemed to me in accomplishing what I had originally thought to be the impossible. I often used that memory to keep me going, knowing that, yeah, it is possible. I mean, never in my wildest imagination would I ever have thought that I’d ever be that crazy to run those kinds of distances regularly but, hey, here I was…doing it.
It was possible.
Motivation sometimes comes from strange places, what can I say?
Now, fast forward again to just these past few years.
Often my runs will take me along the Friendship Trail which runs near my house in Ridgeway (where I live now), which spans between Fort Erie and Port Colborne. When I’m not running along it I might cycle it as a convenient thoroughfare to either end in order to begin my long bike rides out to Niagara Falls, St. Catharines or out to Dunnville and Nanticoke, or simply (as it was today) to get to the YMCA’s that are also conveniently located at either end. The trail is also popular with other local runners, dog walkers, recreational cyclists, hikers, etc.
Periodically, I’d see this other runner out on the trail, usually in the sections that were the most remote and removed from the other nearby townships which the trail runs through. For whatever reason, this runner intrigued me as he seemed so….familiar, for whatever reason.
Then it hit me: Dennis?
Now, bearing in mind that this was approximately 25 to 30 years later, how odd would it be that this same guy would suddenly appear in my area…much less running! Doubtful he would remember who I was anyway. I mean, I was just a kid then. Sure I used to deliver the newspaper to his mom and periodically, he’d be there and say ‘hi’; he was a friendly enough guy, of course. But, still, 25 to 30 years is a very long time.
Anyway, on Monday I was riding the trail to the Port Colborne YMCA to teach my spin class and, low and beyond, there’s this guy….topless, lumbering along with that oh, so familiar steely glare on his face.
I decided to take a chance.
“Excuse me, are you Dennis (last name withheld)?”
The reaction I got was priceless.
I mean, really, when a weirdo dressed in a Lyrca cycling kit stops you in the middle of nowhere, and identifies you by name…well, just imagine the look of surprise you might have on your face.
That was exactly the look I got just then.
Long story short: it was him.
The Roadrunner!
Small world, eh?
I rode alongside him for a brief spell and explained who I was and, yes, he even remembered me (or, at least he was polite enough to fake it anyway). I told him of my own long distance experiences over the past few years and how I had often thought back to him running along Canal Rd. as a kid, and how much motivation those memories had provided me in those dark moments that will inevitably come at certain points during long runs.
Then I told him how crazy I thought he was and he laughed (thankfully).
It turns out that Dennis now runs “Pony Paradise” at Saddlebrook Farms in Sherkston where, as it just so happens, is where I tend to see him running the trail. Obviously, Dennis still runs, albeit not the long hauls he used to. He keeps his distances short (approximately 5 or 6 kilometers) and regular and prefers the trail because it’s “peaceful”.
I guess that answers my question from way back when: yes, he must really enjoy it.
Now I’m not going to wager how old Dennis is these days but, let me put it this way: if I’m still running 5 or 6 kilometers with any regularity in, say, another 10 to 15 years or so – and enjoying it – I will be very pleased with myself indeed.
Again, motivation comes from funny places.
It does bother me a bit though that Dennis, at whatever age he is now, still looks better with his top off than I ever have or, likely, ever will.
(Note: You might remember when I alluded to another experiment in order to test the results that we determined during the fight-fighting testing I was a part of (click HERE). The premise being that if overall improvement in extremely hot and shitty environments is more a mental thing than it is physical, how do you improve someone’s mental ability exactly? This is that experiment.)
For the past two years, I’ve had the fortunate – or ‘unfortunate’, depending on how you want to look at it – opportunity to participate as a research volunteer at the Brock University Kinesiology Department. This department, headed by Dr. Stephen Cheung, also just happens to be on the cutting edge of sporting science, so getting to be a test monkey as part of something with that scope of importance is a real privilege in my opinion.
Anyway, as such, I’ve undergone some pretty intense experiments in the past, both physically and mentally, in order to improve our understanding of human performance and the limits of our endurance. I’ve had various sharp pointy things inserted into my arm, had my body scrutinized and measured for all posterity, seen my precious life fluids including blood and sweat (and tears for that matter) vacated forcibly from my body, and been subjected to insane heat and humidity in that god forsaken oven (click HERE for a lengthy recap). Basically I’ve stoically suffered whatever tortures and indignities that were deemed as either important or necessary to the project, and probably some that weren’t but only served to further humor my tormentors.
Just kidding, of course, they’re really nice guys…I think.
Oh, and let’s not forget the probe.
So when I got the message from Phil, the Principle Student Investigator (PSI), asking me to undergo yet another run of the gauntlet, it was with mixed emotions that I accepted the invite. Shit, after that last firefighters test, surely, I can endure anything (nearly a year later, it’s not uncommon to wake up in the middle of the night with nightmares of being cooked alive). I’m not really sure what it says about me as a person that I like, no love, being a part of scientific testing that is in part geared towards breaking you down physically and mentally in order to see what makes you tick. Truthfully, I think I may be developing some bizarre case of sado-masochistic pleasure from performing as a lab rat and I’m sure there will be some professional counseling in my near future.
All that aside, I agreed to participate in the latest (and greatest) ‘Effects of Mental Skills Training on Endurance Performance and Cognitive Function in the Heat’ study.
Doesn’t that sound like a real page turner?
In a nutshell, the test is designed to determine whether or not a psychological intervention can improve endurance performance and cognitive function in the heat. Oh goodie. I’m good with my limited athletic prowess being exposed but, well, let’s just say that what lies between these two ears may not exactly paint a pretty picture. In other words, I’m hoping that this research doesn’t also expose me as being a total and complete moron.
What have I gotten myself into?
Day 1: Anthropometric Measurements, Cognitive Tests and Maximal Aerobic Capacity Testing
This is sure going to suck to get off
Similar to the other studies I’ve been part of, it’s necessary to get a baseline of my physiology and athletic ability. What this really means is that they’re going to poke and prod my body fat and then subject me to approximately 15 minutes of torture on a bike.
Yay.
The differences this time around is that 1) there were no cute female PhD students to do the actual poking and prodding of fat folds (thank GOD!), and 2) I also had to complete an initial assessment of my cognitive abilities by answering a questionnaire and then work on what’s known as a “Purdue Pegboard”.
Sadly, it has nothing to do with pirates.
The first “anthropometric measurements” step is no big deal as this certainly isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to having my fat marked up with a Crayola marker and then being pinched with cold metal instruments; no sweat. The second step with the “Purdue Pegboard” was certainly more entertaining though.
Now, if you consult the Interweb thingee you will learn:
“The Purdue Pegboard is a neuropsychological test of manual dexterity and bimanual coordination created by Dr. Joseph Tiffin, an Industrial Psychologist at Purdue University, designed the test in 1948.”
Now that’s all well and good but, really, what it is? Well, what it really means is that I have to build little “castles” out of little metal pieces (“pins”, “collars” and “washers”) to test the gross movements of my arms, hands, and fingers, and my fine motor extremity, also called “fingerprint” dexterity.” Poor Pegboard performance is a sign of deficits in complex, visually guided, or coordinated movements that are likely mediated by circuits involving the basal ganglia. Yeah, yeah, I already hear you: “What’s ‘basal ganglia’ Terry”?
It sounds dirty, I know.
It’s not.
Basal ganglia are little nuclei in the brain that are strongly associated with a variety of functions including: control of voluntary motor movements, procedural learning, routine behaviors or “habits” such as bruxism (excessive grinding of the teeth and/or excessive clenching of the jaw), eye movements, cognition and emotion.
To start, I was given three attempts to build as many little metallic castles as I could within a 60 second period. A castle consists of 4 parts, 1 pin, 1 collar, 2 washers for a total score of 4 points if completed successfully. So, say, if six complete assemblies are made then your total score would be 24. But if a castle is incomplete, then you only score 1 point for each part that was properly assembled. If, say, only the 1 washer and pin on a seventh castle are properly placed you add each part separately (i.e. 24 plus 2, or 26 total); something like that anyway, I dunno. I’m no rocket scientist – clearly. If you really want more information on how to score this damn thing click HERE, but all you really need to know is that in three attempts my best score on the pegboard was 34, which probably puts me somewhere between a coconut and a chimpanzee.
Whoopee.
Pass the banana.
Anyway, time for the main attraction.
Bring on the oven.
I’ve been through this same test once before coming off my Ironman peak in 2013, and given (I feel) that my fitness hasn’t been particularly on point since that time, I was little apprehensive about what today’s results were going to say about my current fitness. I’ve spent considerable time in the pool in the past six months and my run fitness is just beginning to come back after last year’s total and complete breakdown at the Incredoubleman Triathlon but I haven’t really spent any considerable time on the bike. I spin 2-3 times a week with one session being a tough 90 minute Master’s class but, aside from that that, I haven’t focused too much on it instead preferring to wait for the nicer weather before amping up my cycling program. So, yeah, what my fitness level is going to be as a result of being on the Velotron bike is anybody’s guess.
Remember then that the entire point of this test is to have my level of aerobic fitness determined through an actual scientific means. To do that I am fixed with a soft silicone face mask to breathe through to the point of exhaustion in order to obtain my peak oxygen consumption (VO2peak) and maximum heart rate. The improvement this time around is that the lab has been reequipped with a fancier and better fitting mask that wasn’t quite so uncomfortable or difficult to breathe in.
Check it out.
Am I beautiful or what?
Once the test began, I was required to warm up at 100 watts on the Velotron for 3 minutes before 25 watts were added each minute until the point of total burnout. Everything felt pretty good for the first 11 or 12 minutes or so, as what time I do spend on the bike I train at my 75-80% threshold level. But by the 13 minute mark (350 watts) I was clearly suffering and shortly after passing the 14 minute mark (375 watts), I tapped out.
Here are the results:
This result is, well, as odd as it was unexpected. After analyzing the data, it was determined that my Absolute VO2 equated to 3.10 l/min, which represents a HUGE improvement of 0.93 l/min over my last test. My relative VO2peak , however, only improved by a minimal amount to 41.9 ml/kg/min (rounded to 42.0 ml/kg/min).
Why you ask?
The short answer is because I’m fat; nearly 22 lbs worth.
Now, had I maintained my Ironman weight from just over three years ago, theoretically speaking, my VO2peak would have been approximately 46 ml/kg/min, or in the “Superior” classification as opposed to today’s meager “Good” effort. Or would it?
There is also the theory that by losing too much weight I will also lose some of the strength I’ve acquired; what to do…what to do.
So, yeah, basically, the official result is that I’m fatter but fitter. Go figure. This is definitely going to factor in later this year when I begin to strategize about what my “ideal” race weight should be. Do I focus on dropping weight and therefore roll the dice in regards to maintaining my current level of fitness, or do I focus more on improving my fitness at (or around) my current level of fatness?
Decisions, decisions…
To summarize, I now have lots of motivation to improve this result through the quickly approaching coming season as I start to build into more speed/pace based workouts. I may never be up there with the greats (click HERE), but in my own mind I’m already becoming a legend.
Chimps beware!
Day 2: Familiarization Testing
Its one week later and I’m back in the lab ready for the first familiarization session. The thing is that this time around I’m also playing Dad as I have HRH in tow because, hey, what 10-year-old girl doesn’t love watching her half naked step dad being fixed up with wires and electrodes prior to being tortured in a meat locker? It may not exactly be a picnic lunch at the zoo but, still, good times.
The real crazy thing is that she was actually looking forward to seeing me “suffer” and had been talking about for days in advance. I’m not sure what I’ve done as a parent to warrant this kind of excitement but, whatever, she’s along for the ride today.
According to the Consent Form:
“A familiarization trial will be scheduled prior to the commencement of the two experimental sessions to ensure that you are able to fulfill the requirements of the exercise protocol.”
It get’s a wee bit humid.
You can basically interpret this as a “Hey, this is how bad it’s going to suck. Think you can handle it tough guy?” type of statement.
The session is intended to be identical to the actual experimental session to follow in a few weeks. The environmental chamber (aka “the oven”) will be set to 35°C with 50% relative humidity, which may not seem like a lot but, believe me, it is.
To begin with, there’s the usual “preparation” routine that I’ve been through before on the other two testing sessions. This process involves having all my baseline measurements done and providing a urine sample to record my over all body euhydration (normal state of body water content), not to mention getting all fixed up to a bevy of instruments including skin temperature/heat flow censors and, yes, there is that rectal probe to deal with as well (Oh, and for the record I didn’t exactly let HRH in on the probe thing as, well, it didn’t seem like it was something appropriate to “bond” over). Fortunately though, this whole probe business is old hat by this point.
–
Okay, maybe not quite like that.
No, I won’t say it’s like being reunited with an old friend but, well, let’s just say that if this whole lab rat thing doesn’t work out I definitely have a promising future as a drug mule.
Once I was all connected up, I also needed to establish a baseline for my overall mood using a Brunel Mood Scale (BRUMS) Questionnaire. The BRUMS is a 24-item questionnaire of simple mood descriptors such as angry, nervous, unhappy, and energetic. It has six subscales, with each of the subscales containing four mood descriptors including anger, confusion, depression, fatigue, tension, and vigor. For the record, my mood was pretty good. Again what this says about me as a person in that I enjoy being experimented on I’m not really sure. But I digress.
Groton maze testing
Following the questionnaire, I was required to work through a Cognitive Test Battery (CTB) on a computer tablet to assess my cognitive abilities. These tests (designed by Cogstate Research) consist of what’s known as a ‘Groton Maze Learning Task’, a ‘Detection Task’, and a ‘Two Back Task’.
The ‘Groton Maze Learning Task’ (actually a series of two tests, ‘Maze Learning’ and ‘Set Shifting Task’) tests my executive functions which include working memory, reasoning, task flexibility, and problem solving abilities. The ‘Detection Task’ which, easily enough, required me to hit a single key on the keyboard whenever the Joker on a deck of cards appears on the desktop (Disclaimer: it appears every time), tests my reaction time, while the ‘Two Back Task’ tests my working memory and attention skills.
Now, given my current lacking of technical prowess given I don’t owe a cell phone so I don’t text or play video games, etc., these tablet tests – while still basic – took some time general getting used to. I’m sure for HRH it must have been like watching the monkey’s with the obelisk in ‘2001: A Space Odyssey’. Basically, I felt like whatever banana I had earned with the Purdue Pegboard on my last visit to the lab was just taken away from me. I hate computers and computer testing at the best of times and I wasn’t terribly confident in how I performed and, in my mind, I think I might have even heard monkeys laughing at me.
Purdue Peg Board
Computers just arn’t my jam.
Anyway, after the cognitive tests were complete (20 minutes or so) it was time to get in the oven; time to suffer.
Suffer I can do.
The trial protocol consisted of two exercise bouts, and two identical rest periods during which I would do more cognitive testing. Throughout the protocol I had to wear the same soft-silicon mask that I wore during the V02-Max test to continue to monitor my ventilation and metabolic data throughout the two exercise rounds. And, not to jump too far ahead, but this would inevitably be the worst part when the heat and humidity began to kick in.
The first exercise protocol consisted of a 5 minute cycling warm up at 100 watts followed by 25 minutes set to 60% of my “Peak Performance Output” (PPO) that we determined during the VO2-Max test last week (210 watts). Compared to my past runs in the oven, this particular session didn’t hold a candle “suffer-wise”. That’s not to say however that is was “easy” either. No, spinning in that kind of hot and humid environment while wearing and breathing through a silicon tube is never fun and soon enough the sweat began to pour.
And let me tell you when all you have it this to focus on:
Time grinds down to an absolute haul, let me tell you. My only reprieve from the whole thing was seeing HRH’s face appear periodically in the oven’s window as she peeked in to monitor my “suffering”. So after 30 minutes of spinning, sweating and playing peek-a-boo, I was removed from the bike, weighed, and draped in a bright yellow rain poncho to preserve my core temperature as much as possible.
Goodie.
If I wasn’t sweating before, I sure as shit was now!
I felt like a BBQ-ed steak that had been left out to rest.
Oven selfie
During this rest period (30 minutes) I wasn’t allowed to leave the oven, but asked to perform the same mood (BRUMS) and cognitive (CTB) tests as before. From what I recall, neither my mood or cognitive abilities with the tests changed much; I was still happy and dumb as mud.
Yay me!
The second exercise bout was intended to be a “Time to Exhaustion (TTE)” test performed at 80% of my PPO (280 watts) after an initial 5 minute warm up at 125 watts. The premise is very easy: cycle your ass off until you drop. Yup, this was definitely going to suck.
Basically, it works like this: exercise (i.e. my suffering) would only stop due to volitional fatigue, if my cadence should drop below 60 rpm for more than 5 seconds, or my core temperature reaches 40°C for 1 minute (talk about “hot shit”!), or my heart rate exceeded 95% of my maximum for 3 minutes. So basically, anything that indicates you’re mere seconds away from death itself would count as viable grounds for stoppage. Awesome! Furthermore, there was to be no motivation queues provided aside from being asked for my RPE (Rate of Perceived Exertion) on the Borg Scale (taped to the wall in front of me) every 2 minutes.
Making matters worse, is that the whole thing was being filmed.
But that will have to wait for another post.
>>wink<<
Suffering
I had assumed at the time that the best strategy was to begin spinning slowly at approximately 65-70 rpm figuring that I could maintain that particular cadence for a while. The problem being (or so I learned anyway), was that once I began to fade there really wasn’t much wiggle room in regards to lowering my cadence any, which is exactly what happened.
Everything went fine initially and I felt pretty good, despite the conditions and mask and stuff, but when I began to struggle cardio-wise, it was quick, slippery slope into painful torment. Part of the problem is that as a requirement of the test, I wasn’t able to stand up at any point. Usually, on the road when you climb in a heavy gear you can give yourself a quick break by shifting the primary working muscle group by standing up and then being seated again. Here, there was none of that; it was ass in the saddle all the way. So when my working muscles started to go, they went…fast.
Now I have no idea how long I lasted, but I’m estimating approximately 10-12 minutes including the warm up based on how many times my RPE were requested. Of course, it might have been 30 seconds…who knows. In essence, though, it went something like this:
12.
12.
15.
18.
Tap Out.
Just like that.
Die I did, much to HRH’s enjoyment.
I will admit, I was a bit disappointed with myself and I made a mental plan to last longer by incorporating a quicker cadence to start off with and then gradually wind ‘er down when the legs begin to fail afterwards; more on that strategy to come.
Anyway, immediately following this, it was time to don the poncho and complete another round of mood and cognitive testing. This time, however, it was significantly more difficult I can assure you. In fact, the ‘Two Back Test’ pretty much kicked my ass and I was more or less just tapping at the keyboard with reckless abandon. I was hot, uncomfortable, and didn’t really give a shit if the card was a Queen, Jack, or 10 of Spades. I simply didn’t give a shit, nor could I if I wanted to. However, I think I did make the ‘Groton Maze Learning Test’ my bitch. Again…go figure.
Only time will tell I suppose.
Day 3: Experimental Session #1
Now that the preliminary VO2peak and familiarization sessions are over with, it’s time to get on with the real festivities; the actual exercise protocols themselves. Yup, it’s time to get medieval, time to officially put my suffering in the books, it’s go time, or whatever other popular euphemism you wish to use to associate with the underlying message of “time to put or shut up”.
Needless to say, everything else up to this point was just for shits n’ giggles.
Anyway, by now the whole pee, probe and final shuffle of shame are just part of the ordinary “business as usual” drill, every bit as routine as brushing your teeth in the morning. Of course, I’m not shoving flexible core thermometers up my ass most mornings, but I digress.
All bid’ness.
There is very little else to describe at this point that I haven’t already haven’t discussed in the previous familiarization session; 30 minutes set to 60% of my “Peak Performance Output” (210 watts) and a balls-to-the-wall “Time to Exhaustion (TTE)” test performed at 80% of my PPO (280 watts). Before, between and after each exercise protocol there is also the series of cognitive tests that I’ve described already as well. Oh, and let’s not forget the yellow poncho to keep me as uncomfortable as possible – you know, just because. Seriously, you’d think these lab nerds lay awake at night under their Star Wars bed sheets conjuring up ways to torture me. Sometimes, I think this is all part of some elaborate ruse and at the bottom of some resume somewhere, there’s “making Terry suffer” listed underneath the heading ‘Interests and Hobbies’. Of course, I still willfully participate as a volunteer and no one is holding a gun to my head but when the going certainly turns shitty, well, let’s just say that sometimes I wonder.
As per usual, the only stimulus I am ever afforded are the three charts in front of me with which to gauge my RPE and overall discomfort. There’s no encouragement (visual or otherwise), no chuckles, no giggles…no nothing.
It’s all bid’ness.
How’s that for “comforting”, right?
Move over chimps.
Same as the previous familiarization session, the first 30 minutes are boring as all fuck; total bag of dicks where I sit pedaling aimlessly, breathing into my mask in the hot and humid environment and trying not to think about how incredibly boring and shitty it is. Basically, I just try to visualize my inner happy place from underneath my silicon mask which, for the record, just happens to be a nice pub in a remote countryside somewhere that serves decent beer, a complimentary bowl of nuts and an amazing cheeseburger. Just sayin’. Then I do some more cognitive testing on the tablet, sit around for a bit in the heat n’ shit and, finally, jump back on the bike for the eventual opening of the Gates of Hell.
Good times indeed.
I’d like to think I did a bit better this time around then I did in my familiarization session, but I had no real way to know for sure. All I know is that it sucked equally and unequivocally; ‘suck’ is the only constant variable in these types of tests. In fact, I tried a bit of a different approach to my TTE in that I periodically spun my cadence up a bit from time to time to try and take advantage of the momentum generated in the pedals (not that there’s much momentum on a Velotron bike, mind you) to rest a bit but, honestly, what little rest there was inconsequential to the constant punishment being inflicted on my quads and I eventually tapped out – as I do – thoroughly broken and exhausted.
Yay me!
Mental note to self: the worst part of the testing (inserting the probe) also turns out to be the best part when you get to remove it later. The lesson here though is to avoid any bowel movements prior to inserting for at least an hour or so before testing, otherwise you end up extracting something from your ass that looks like this:
Sorry…I couldn’t resist.
So here’s where the interesting part comes in.
Following this first exercise protocol, participants are then randomly divided into two categories. For the Control group, nothing changes and in two weeks’ time they return to the oven to complete their second protocol just as before. The second Test group, of which I was selected, will have some additional homework to do in the days (week) before showing up to complete the second protocol.
That’s right – homework.
The premise goes along the lines that scientific studies have already proven that individuals tend to perform better when they feel confident and motivated during high-energy activity. They feel better about themselves and consequentially try harder and keep going when that going gets difficult.
I know, I know…”but everyone knows that already, Terry”. And I agree. But I think most often, people will tend to associate this type of motivational affirmation in this kind of light:
–
I know I did, or used to anyway.
But, in reality, it’s much more challenging than that.
Thinking happy thoughts
For me, this whole “positive self-talk” has proven to be a very difficult, particularly given some of the setbacks I’ve experienced lately. By comparison, I used to be able to tackle extremely difficult workouts prior to Ironman Wales simply by positively willing myself through them, but since then, I tend to beat myself up more with negativity; negativity regarding my not being able to perform at the same level, for not being in the same peak fitness, etc. You could say that my confidence has been rattled and while I accept that as part of the current path I’m on and, hopefully, my confidence will return at some point, in the meantime…I continue to struggle. I still persevere and do my best through all my prescribed workouts, but I’m not rocking them as I used to. I suspect that this negativity has a lot to do with it.
So, consequentially, these negative thoughts are really doing me no favors…and Lord knows I have a lot of them. I am my own worst enemy in this regard. In fact, any negative thought I might have associated with the difficulty of the task, any unpleasant sensation that I might be experiencing or the level of effort and motivation towards the end goal during any moderate and high-intensity activities tend only to interfere with the optimal performance of the task. And God knows that cycling in that god forsaken oven would definitely qualify in all those categories.
So, I have now been officially tasked in identifying these negative thoughts and record them in what I am now referring to as my ‘Big Book of Suck’, and then counteract them with more beneficial motivational “self-talk” statements that will ultimately help maintain or improve my level of effort and coordinate my performance towards achieving the best possible performance; namely, surviving a single minute (or more) longer in the oven when the Gates of Hell are opened and the Suck begins to pile up.
On a personal note, the implications of this study are huge, as if I can determine what my “limiters” are motivation-wise through this exercise and then be able to counteract them with more positive inspirational self-talk, then I might be able to get myself back on my way to acquiring that same level of confidence that I had once before.
In this ‘Big Book of Suck’ there are some activities to help me craft my own unique motivation self-talk statements to use in the oven during both my exercise protocols, as well as my cognitive testing, when those other nasty negative comments begin to rear their ugly head and bubble to the surface.
The first thing to do is to identify examples of negative comments that cross my mind while I’m in the oven. Now, I told you before that when it comes to elf-depreciation, I am an absolutely black belt, so listing every negative thought that goes through my head during those 45 minutes or so in the oven was fairly easy. Likewise, there’s not enough bandwidth on these blog pages to list them all so I’ve captured a few of the more popular one’s for you:
You’re out of shape
What’s wrong with you?
This sucks.
I’m not good enough to be here.
You’re a loser.
And the ever popular…
I bet I look fat in these bib shorts.
When it came to the cognitive testing, the negativity was condensed into a single phrase: “You’re an idiot.”
It’s true. When it comes to beating myself up I’m a true artist; I’m the Rembrandt of self-depreciation. Negative commentary is just the primary tool with which I paint the wretched canvass of my soul.
Too much?
You get the idea though right?
Anyway, the next activity in the booklet challenged me to come up with some more positive phrases that I could use instead of those common negative statements, like “hang in there”, “dig deep”, or “you’re a winner!” Sounds easy enough, right? Well, as it turns out, it’s not as easy as you might think given I am not accustomed to pumping myself up regularly with “you’re a winner”, so I found coming up with statements particularly tailored to my own motivational drive challenging indeed. But after considerable thought I came up with a few statements that I felt would be positive motivational when the wheels inevitably start to fall off.
The challenge now is to use, assess and then retool my suggested statements over the following week during 3 workouts, and then practice them to be as beneficial as possible come time to get back in the oven.
Here’s what I came up with for the exercise protocols:
You can do this!
Relax, focus and breathe
Get tough!
Just be calm and push on
Not exactly Shakespeare I agree, but they’ll do.
For the cognitive testing, I have two other statements:
Just relax and focus
Pass the banana
Okay, I’m totally kidding on the last one but, again, you get the idea.
Positive Phrasing Test #1:
Four days later I had my first trial of my motivational self-talk statements during a long 90 minute interval run. I haven’t really acquired my running legs yet so these long runs tend to be an exercise in pain and total self-depreciation which, fortunately, gives me the perfect chance to practice my positive phrasing.
The idea is to also detail when these negative statements begin to occur in the workout which, in this case, was about 30 nanoseconds into the run immediately following my stepping off the front porch:
“Oh God, this is going to suck”.
Shit!
Okay, think positive statements:
“Just be calm and push on”.
It totally worked and I felt better.
Good.
Then another negative comment hit me again a minute later:
“Shit, that was only 5 minutes and you’re already winded? What the fuck?”
Dammit!
“Relax, focus and breathe”.
Okay, good.
Then again:
“You’re so slow you fat fuck”.
Jesus. Again?
Okay, “Just be calm and push on…relax, focus and breathe….”
And so the internal dialogue went for the next 85 minutes. I know I’m a glutton for punishment, but I’m actually amazed at how often my thoughts turned negative during the 90 minute period. I figure I was probably beating myself up with negativity approximately 8,897,798,990 times. Wow. It was being riddled with bullets from a Tommy gun.
The good news was that each time I became aware of that negativity, either of those planned motivational statements ended up bringing me back down to earth so that I was able to push through some intervals at both my half-marathon pace (5:30min/km) as well as my 5k pace (sub 5:00min/km). Truth be told, the positive “self-talk” seemed to be helping.
Positive Phrasing Test #2:
The next morning I was in the pool for a muscular endurance workout which involved some faster sprint pace intervals which, given I am currently building for a 10k swim in two more weeks, is not a regular feature of my swim workouts.
I’m a little more confident in my abilities in the pool so I wasn’t hit quite as soon or as often with the negativity as I was the day before on my long run, but when I started sprinting they sure started up in earnest. Two or three intervals in the first negative comment reared its ugly head:
“You’re tired. Maybe you should use the pull buoy instead”.
Ah ha!
I see you, you sneaker fucker!
“Just be calm and push on….”
Nothing.
“Relax, focus, and……”
Shit.
Shit, I couldn’t even remember what my second positive motivational phrase even given as I was too busy, you know, breathing. After all, staying alive is my top priority in the pool.
Neither statement seemed to be working. So I had to switch gears a bit and went with “You can do this!”, and “Just keep going!” These statements seemed to work a little better as they were more direct and easy to recall once my mind began to race and the negative commentary started to bombard my lizard brain.
Positive Phrasing Test #3:
Two days later and I’m in San Antonio, Texas and it’s hot as all fuck outside meaning my speed workout around Woodlawn Lake wasn’t going to be much more fun than the oven itself. Perfect testing ground for my next exercise protocol, wouldn’t you say?
Once I started off it was a bit difficult going in the early stages as I warmed up – literally and figuratively – as my lungs took some time to adjust to the heat and humidity and, for whatever reason, my legs felt weary after 48 hours of traveling. However, when the negativity started to hit I was well prepared:
“Just be calm and push on”.
“Relax, focus and breathe.”
Boo-yah!
Success!
Gettin er done.
Once I started with the actual speed intervals (8 x 400m), however, not so much. I ended up having to revert back to using the more direct statements just as I had in the pool. “You can do this!” still worked like a charm but, “Just keep going”, however, did not. It only made me want to check out my Garmin to see how far I’d gone and then when I realized I had only gone a certain distance, the negative commentary started back up with a vengeance. Instead, I retooled this last statement into “Get tough!” as I began each interval and that seemed to work a bit better. I continued to use “You can do this!” to see each interval through to the end.
An honorary mention also has to be made for: “Just get through this and you can have a cheeseburger”, but I decided that that’s probably not going to fly in the oven next week so it was left off the list.
So, in short, my plan of action come next Wednesday during my last exercise protocol is to use “Just be calm and push on” and “Relax, focus and breathe” to push through the first 30 minutes of the warm up to cope with the boredom and tediousness, then revert to the more direct and engaging “You can do this!” and “Get tough!” when my heart rate begins to elevate and the imminent shittiness begins to mount up during the last TTE.
As far as the cognitive testing goes, I am sticking with “Just relax and focus”; simple and elegant as it is.
Wish me luck.
God help me.
Day 3: Experimental Session #4
Not much about the whole lead into and set up for my second (and last) exercise protocol is different from the others with one notable exception: I brought the wrong cycling shoes.
Shit.
Yup, upon pulling out of my parking lot at work, I realized that I had mistakenly brought the wrong cleats meaning I couldn’t use them with the pedals on the Velotron. In short, I was fucked and I started panic as I hated the thought of letting down the lab gurus by not being able to complete my second test protocol as planned; especially given all the work I’d done in crafting out my motivational statements.
But after a second or so of “oh shit!”, “how could you have fucked up like this?” and, of course, the ever popular “you’re a fucking idiot” running through my mind, I decided to take a different approach.
“Relax, focus and breathe”
Seconds later, I had pulled a U-turn into the parking lot of In.Cep.tion cycles, picked up an extra set of SPD pedal clips to match my misbegotten cleats and, Bob’s your uncle!, we’re back in business; In.Cep.tion with the save.
Thanks Brandon!
Hey, maybe this whole motivation self-talk might actually work.
Huh.
Upon arriving, I ran the pee, probe and shuffle gauntlet, got weighed, got affixed with the usual heat sensors and electrode thingee’s, completed both my BRUMS questionnaire and base cognitive testing on the tablet (which, I am fairly confident went very well when I applied my positive self-talk statements) and minutes later I was in the oven ready to go.
I’m also noting here for the record that I was adequately hydrated for this particular session as, two weeks before, for whatever reason, my hydration was pretty poor. In fact, my urine sample resembled the liquid version of Charlie’s Golden Ticket, so I was conscientious to hydrate today like a mofo to avoid that from happening again.
Gettin’ sweaty…
The goal today was to be cognizant of all my negative thoughts and, instead, use the motivational self–talk phrases I’ve been working on for the past week. The idea is to see what difference (if any) that provides to both my exercise sessions as well as my cognitive testing immediately following them. In other words, shit was about to get real and I was focused on proving that they worked as I generally believe they would.
It has to be said that the first 30 minutes at 60% (210 watts) of my PPO is the most tedious. I can deal with the 35°C temperature and 50% relative humidity, but it’s boring as all get out and very shortly into it the negativity started to creep in.
“This sucks”, “this is boring”, and “How much longer?”
No problem, I was prepared.
“Just relax, focus and breathe…just keep calm and push on…”
Worked like a charm.
One problem though. A piece of surgical tape used to secure my probe to the sumo sling I use to keep it, well, wedged up in my ass, had begun to rub under my Charlie Brown’s. Not pleasant. So with every pedal stroke there was this uncomfortable scratching going on under my nut sack. Yeah.
And let me tell you, trying to stay positive and think happy thoughts while your choda is being treated like a Lotto scratch ticket is not easy, like, at all. Lord knows I tried. Ultimately, I knew, boring as it was, I could do the first 30 minutes fairly easily so all I had to do was make it through that and then I could try and “readjust” myself afterwards prior to having to get back on the bike.
This is the face one makes when their scrotum is being rubbed raw.
However, despite my attempt to exist in my “happy place”, it was all pretty much in vain. After all, my happy place in that country pub does not include something coarse and scratchy down my pants. But I made the first 30 minutes successfully and, yes, I used my self-talk statements as much as possible.
When I dismounted the bike to don my rain poncho and complete my cognitive testing I tried my best to fix the issue. In the rare few moments I am actually alone in the oven I had both hands burrowed deep into my bib shorts and ferreting around like a squirrel digging for acorns, but to no avail.
FML.
The first round of cognitive testing I think went very, very well. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that I made the tests my bitch, particularly the “Two Back” and “Groton Maze Learning” tasks. I’m not surprised really as I was very dialed in and focused using my “Just relax and focus” statement. For the rest of the 30 minute cool down (and I use that term loosely), I put my feet up and tried not to focus on the chafing beginning to happen under my balls.
I figured I could manage one last TTE but, then again, what choice did I really have?
Eventually, I mounted the bike for the last time and had the mask affixed to my head and I braced myself for the eventual suck to follow. I immediately reverted to my more calming and passive motivational statements to “get in the zone”, per se. I knew it was going to difficult (isn’t it always?) but I really wanted to do better and by “better”, that inevitably means “suffer”. It’s just the nature of the beast I’m afraid.
Finally the first 5 minute warm up at 125 watts began, and as soon as it did it started:
“God, my balls are on fire!”
“Just relax, breathe and focus…”
Nope.
“Just be calm and push on…”
Nope. Still on fire.
“Get tough.”
Okay, that worked…a bit.
Finally, the official TTE at 80% (280 watts) began in earnest and it was on.
Again with the negativity.
“Ho-lee shit”, “My legs hurt”, “My balls are burning” (not to be confused with the popular 80’s song ‘Beds Are Burning’ by Australian rockers Midnight Oil)…it was a total cacophony of self pity, remorse and intense bitchiness.
Fueled by “Get tough” and “You can do this!”, I did my best to block it all out and started with my first spin-up and then remained focused on holding that cadence for as long as it felt “comfortable” to do so. It hurt, but I did it.
“Well, that sucked”, was the immediate response in my brain.
Fuck you negativity, “You can do this!”…and I did it again…and again…
…and again.
I concentrated on putting power into the pedals more than I have ever done before, even when it felt like my lungs were going to explode and my nuts were going to rupture. In fact, I became a bit worried at one point that I might have some unfortunate scaring going on in places I didn’t even want to think about but, still, I focused on power.
“More power!”, actually became a new motivation self-talk statement at one point. I know it wasn’t part of the original plan but I was certainly willing to go with whatever it was that worked in the moment, and in that precise moment, “More power!” is exactly what I needed to hear.
I continued to spin up an hold as best as I could and the last 2 or 3 “sprints” were every bit as agonizing as the sensations going on in my shorts, let me tell you.
I had no concept of time. I know that the research guy in the oven with me (Phil) comes around every two minutes to get my RPE and Thermal Sensation and Discomfort readings so I should be able to keep an approximate track of how much time has passed but, truthfully, after the first two or so and it’s really beginning to get shitty, they all feel like the first.
Eventually, I couldn’t take any more and immediately following my last spin up I quit. Now, whether I 100% gave up or whether my cadence dropped below the pre-established 60rpm for 5 seconds signaling the finish, I’m not really sure. What I do know is that I was 100% spent and feeling rather disappointed with myself (as I’m sure was reflected in the subsequent BRUMS scale I completing immediately after getting off the bike).
A picture is worth a thousand words:
I figured that while I had put more effort into the pedals, the eventual cost was in not being able to go for as long as I would have liked. Plus, I hated the feeling of having to “quit” (whether or not that actually happened, is moot). On the plus side, I think my cognitive testing afterwards (once my heart rate came back down of course) went very well, just as it had the first time. In that regard I was definitely happy.
In the first exercise protocol I managed to last 12 whole minutes at my 80% and today, using motivational self-talk, I was able to last 13 minutes representing an improvement of 9% overall. So, despite how I felt about the second TTE, that positive phrasing definitely seemed to work. But here’s the part I’m really pleased with:
During the first session, I managed 10 or so spin up’s to approximately 90 rpm before dropping back down to an average of approximately 77 rpm. This time around, I managed 12 spin up’s overall at over 100 rpm which I was able to sustain for up to 40-45 seconds at a time before returning to an approximate average of 80 rpm. That means that my ride on that particular day was a lot less variable in my being able to maintain a steady cadence and power outage.
I guess I can live with that.
Where positive self-talking definitely helps with athletic performance (which is awesome), even in extreme hot and humid conditions (even more awesome), it also works very well in positively improving cognitive ability as well and that’s particularly some pretty awesome shit.
I will include all the actual results in the follow-up Part 2 to this post in the near future so, until then, hang tight, for that awesome shit is about to get real.
fatandthefurious 