Tryptophan Dreams

It's been a long time since I wrote anything.

I had decided that after Honu in June, I would take a break from structured training to rest, refresh, and revisit the parts of my life that had been significantly neglected during the 2017-2018 season of two full Ironmans and three 70.3s. I wanted to spend more time with my husband, more time writing (clearly not this blog, haha!), more time with my dogs, and more time doing Hawaii things like going to the beach and hiking.

I have done these things with mixed success. I've found that after spending 18-23 hours a week training outdoors in the sun and heat for the past year, the beach and hiking sound less appealing than I had anticipated. I've done some, but certainly not as much as I had imagined. Still, I have spent quite a bit more time at home, in my yard and walking around my beautiful surroundings, and for that I am grateful. I have gotten much more time with my husband, and not only during 7-hour bike rides! We've spent quite a bit of time working on our house, relaxing together, and, to combine with one of the other goals, we've been spending a lot more time walking and playing with our dogs! The dogs have definitely been better-behaved now that we've been able to train them a little more and be with them more often. I also started training them to run with me, which is an interesting process that mostly involves me getting pulled along for the first mile as they sprint at break-neck speed, then enjoying one mile of perfect tempo, then me pulling them along for subsequent miles as they get tired. It has also made them freakishly strong, something I should have thought through before embarking upon this little endeavor, as now I can barely control them when I have to handle both of them at once. The writing has been a mixed bag... I can't say that I've gotten a lot done, but I did come up with and start a big writing project that I am very excited about.

Anyway, back to triathlon.

I had planned to begin training the last week of August for the Honolulu Marathon, which is December 9th. I did one week of light training (read: a couple short runs), and then we had some very bizarre and stressful circumstances come up that forced us to be away from our house for the next month and that wreaked havoc on my system. Once we finally got home and got things mostly back to normal, I decided that jumping into marathon training was just asking to get sick or injured, and that for now, that goal needs to put on hold. In its place, I am focusing on something fun and (with any luck, since entries fill up within 15 minutes of when registration opens) I'll be doing the Tryptophan Triathlon on Thanksgiving -- a 1/3 mile swim, 15-mile bike, and 2-mile run. This allows my training to be short sessions that still allow time for other things, and that don't seem overwhelming as my body reawakens and gets back into the swing of things.

At first, I was horrified at my condition. A 20-minute run felt difficult, and my legs were exhausted after a 30-minute ride. What I'm discovering, however, is that my body seems to have been in some sort of deep recovery hibernation, because after the first week I feel it "opening up" and while I've definitely lost some endurance, it seems like my speed is surprisingly stable. This week my run pace was back down into the low nine minute miles, and I actually found myself running at 8:35 pace by accident a couple of times. I can't hold that pace for more than a couple of 10-minute intervals, but it's still very encouraging when I think about how I felt last week.

This week's training plan -- yay for getting to go watch KONA!

Swimming has felt good -- really good! Not in that I'm fast, but it feels relaxing and calming and I'm enjoying my 20-30 minute sessions instead of hour-long sessions. The bike also feels good. I've missed it! I've missed the feeling, the wind on my face, the speed, and the challenge. My lady bits, on the other hand, have not missed it and are less than thrilled that I'm riding again. It's both a fun time to get started again and a terrible time to get started again because all of the Kona athletes who are here. It's energizing to see them but embarrassing to have them see me! Oh well, what can you do?
These short training sessions are reminding me of how *fun* triathlon can be. Don't get me wrong here, I LOVE Ironman. It's my passion -- the day of my first Ironman was better than my wedding day (don't worry, my husband already knows and agrees!) and nothing has ever given me the kind of fulfillment and sense of accomplishment that Ironman does, but even though I enjoy it deeply, I can't quite describe it as "fun." Sprint training is FUN. Right now my long run is 35 minutes and my tempo run is 25 minutes, and my long bike is 1:30. I can hop on the trainer, do my cycling technique sets and drills in 30 minutes, go to the pool and swim for 25 minutes, and still have time before work! It's amazing! And, because the durations are short, I can push the intensity more than with long aerobic sessions. It's very satisfying.

So here's to a season of triathlon fun and hopefully a Thanksgiving Day adventure!

Ironman 70.3 Hawaii 2018 Race Report

This year marks my 3rd time doing Ironman 70.3 Hawaii (“Honu”), and just like years past, this year the race presented new challenges, new experiences, and new accomplishments. We knew this year would be different and special because Sean’s sister, Ashley, had decided to “tri” with us. It was her first 70.3 and first triathlon in almost ten years. In addition, Sean’s race buddy from Ironman Coeur D’Alene, Stephanie, was here racing from San Francisco. And, to top it off, the race also had the special distinction of being on my 32nd birthday! 

Because of what has been going on in our lives in the past few months (traveling in Europe with Sean’s family, organizing and dancing in a ballet performance, and then leaving my ballet teaching job to start classes of my own) my focus has been elsewhere. Although I had trained pretty intensively from January to the beginning of April and picked up again with relative focus after returning from our trip I was feeling a little out of sorts triathlon-wise. To add to that feeling, I dislocated my left shoulder two and a half weeks before the race and had barely been able to swim since then. My goal had gone from “go fast” to “have fun and finish.” I did, however, somewhere in the back of my head, want to go for my goal of really pushing myself on the intensity, past what I’d done before. I knew that wasn’t going to be possible on the swim, but I told myself I’d push the run and see what I could do. 

Hanging with Mike Reilly at the expo

The expo and athlete meeting, like always, got me a little more mentally checked in. To add to the fun, Mike Reilly was there so I got to thank him for giving me the double-call (having the audience tell me “you are an Ironman!”) at Kona and get a photo with him. I also felt very fancy checking in at the special Ironman All World Athlete check-in table, and got a good giggle when the volunteer working asked how much it cost to get the VIP check-in. The guy next to me explained the All World selection process, followed by a decisive “we earned that shit.” All of my missing toenails (which have finally grown back!) agreed with him wholeheartedly. 

Race eve came and we carefully gathered our gear for the morning. Sean and I applied Ashley’s race number tattoos and I almost cried looking at her eager, excited face and realizing how much I hoped she’d finish. Other than that, I kind of kept to myself. I’m realizing that I’m kind of anti-social pre-race.

One of the most dramatic benefits to becoming more experienced in the sport is the ability to actually sleep well the night before a race. Whereas in my earlier triathlon days I would toss and turn or lie in bed the whole night staring at the ceiling, I now go to bed around 9:30pm, fall asleep without issue, and get 6 hours of solid sleep before my alarm goes off at 3:30am. It’s quite lovely, and something I will never take for granted. 

Much to my delight, they had moved the start time up by half an hour this year, from 7am to 6:30. I was hopeful that this would eliminate the issue that I had battled with last year when they instituted a rolling start without taking into account the fact that water conditions deteriorate dramatically between 7 and 8am, resulting in some nasty waves and chop for those of us starting later. I went through my morning routine – get up, eat, shower, tattoo, braid my hair, and double, triple, quadruple check my gear – and then it was time to head for the shuttles to the start. 

T1 pre-race is always fun. So many excited people, so much energy! Apparently, they mentioned my birthday over the PA system but of course I was too focused to hear it. At 6:15 we all headed toward the start, and at 6:30 the first wave took off. We were excited to see the legendary Karen Aydelott in the start area, along with Mike Reilly and Ironman god Mark Allen. Sean’s wave went out around 6:40am. After watching him start, I tried to get Ashley settled, then took off on my own to warm up. I ran up and down the beach, then hid and did my weird ballet warm ups that seem to do more good for me than any conventional exercises. Time went by quickly and before I knew it I was joining the women in my age group in the start corral and . I seeded toward the front, not so much on purpose as that I was talking to my friend Sara and she’s a really fast swimmer, and then there we were at the start gates with the signals beeping and so off I went!
My mantra for the swim was simple: “slow and steady,” I told myself over and over again. “You dislocated your shoulder less than three weeks ago and you haven’t swam more than 1500 in three weeks. It’s not going to be a fast swim, but that’s okay. Just stay on the outside so no one knocks your shoulder out again and be slow and steady.” Oddly enough, this swim felt the best of any Honu swim yet. I never got to the point of feeling totally exhausted, and because I was just trying to stay steady I didn’t really leapfrog with any other swimmers. When I passed someone, it was because I was decidedly faster, and when I got passed, it was clear that I was not going to gain my position back. It was kind of a peaceful mindset to swim in. About halfway through the swim my shoulder started tiring – not crunching or clicking or popping or hurting, luckily, just tiring – but it manifested in a definite tendency to drift off to the left, which I had to keep correcting for. I was certain I must be swimming a sine curve.

On the final stretch, I started getting passed by the fastest of the female 20-24 group. There was one girl who was so fast that at first peripheral glance I actually thought she was some kind of sea creature or mermaid. Her movement was so graceful, smooth, and powerful, and she passed me with a kind of speed I still can’t quite comprehend. It was so beautiful to watch I was transfixed, then within moments she was gone. 

Soon enough I was rounding the last buoy, hearing the announcer and the crowd, and heading for shore. I exited the water, did my best to run gracefully with a non-double chinned smile for the cameras, and then walked through the showers before running for T1. I couldn't believe it when I glanced down at my watch and saw my swim split - 36:30, three and a half minutes faster than last year!
 
Another goal of mine for this year was to reduce my transition times. Last year I did this race having not done a triathlon since 2015 and with my focus being on Ironman in August, so I had told myself to take my time in transition and set myself up well on the bike. I had taken my own advice a little to literally, however, and spent an eternity in T1 putting on sunscreen, hairspraying my hair (yes, seriously. What the hell was I thinking?), loading my gels into my pockets, putting on my heart rate monitor, drying my feet… eating breakfast? I honestly don’t even remember what else I was doing but my T1 time was a mortifying 11:xx minutes! This year I vowed not to repeat that performance, so I had applied my super duper waterproof sunscreen pre-swim and taped all of my nutrition to my bike so that all I had to do was put on bike shoes, helmet, and go. And that’s what I did! Shakily, but successfully, I took six minutes (six minutes!) off of my T1 time.

The first little 8-mile out and back to Mauna Lani felt good. My legs felt okay, by breathing was normalizing nicely. I saw Ashley on my way back and she looked like she was doing well, pumping away, so I started the trek up to Hawi feeling optimistic. My first few 5-mile splits were fast -- easily on pace for my goal pace of 17.5mph. The course conjestion was much more noticeable than last year. It seemed that on every hill I was having to slow down and dodge people to avoid getting in the drafting zone. I do want to give credit to the race officials, who were very present, keeping a close eye on the crowds but making very careful penalty calls only to those who were clearly drafting intentionally, not those merely caught in the mayhem and trying their best to leave proper space.
The weather, thankfully, was mild this year. The vicious, frightening crosswinds of last year were almost non-existent, and for this I was very grateful. From the beginning of the bike, though, I could tell that my nutrition was a little off. This wasn’t surprising to me because before our Italy trip, it seemed that I had accidentally fat-adapted myself to the point where I hardly needed any fuel during even long training sessions. Runs and rides where before I would take upward of four gels I could do on Skratch and water alone, and somehow my pace was still faster. Then we went to Italy, where I spent three weeks eating pasta and gelato twice daily. When I came back, I was slower and back to needing fuel on my workouts. Although I made efforts to get back into fat adaptation before the race, it just wasn’t enough time and I was left in a strange no-man’s-land of needing some fuel but not as much as normal, and never being able to tell exactly when I would need it until it was too late. 

This was the case during this ride. I would try to eat on my normal schedule – a gel every 40 minutes or so – but it seemed like way too much, and I think I ended up taking one every hour or so instead. I was also insanely, insatiably thirsty from the moment I got out of the water to the moment I crossed the finish line. I didn’t want Skratch, I wanted gallons and gallons of pure water. A big part of my nutrition strategy is listening to my body’s cravings, interpreting what they mean, and fueling accordingly but I also know that drinking only water for a 3+ hour ride going into a two and a half hour run, both in sweltering sun and humidity, is a bad idea. I watched Jodie Swallow’s 2013 Ironman Kona performance where she was hospitalized for hyponatremia and I have no desire to experience it. 

So I kept guessing, trying to combine what my body was telling me with what I know to be necessary to get through this kind of race. It was semi-successful. I got a big surge of energy right before the long six mile climb to Hawi, which worked out nicely, but after flying down the (wonderful) descent I just ran out of gas. My legs felt like they had nothing, like they were big blocks of cement, and mentally I felt a little fuzzy. It didn’t help that we picked up a decent little headwind heading back, either. I had been on target to PR by over five minutes, and usually the return is faster than the ascent, but it took the opposite pattern and I got slower and slower as I rode on. It was quite irritating and put me into a somewhat negative head space as I neared the end of the bike course. I pushed hard for the last five mile split, determined to hang on to my PR, and managed to get in one measly minute faster than last year. Not bad, but very disappointing considering the kinds of paces I’d been riding in training. 

Into T2 I went, with the same goal in mind as T1 – get in and get out, FAST. No nonsense. I even had a race belt, even though I hate them and usually spend the extra time pinning my number on just to avoid it riding up and flapping around over and over. Helmet on, shoes off, shoes on, belt on, hat on, and out I went! I took off fast, hoping to hold a 9:00 to 9:15 minute mile pace during my planned 4-minute run intervals before walking 1-minute, resulting in a 10:15-ish mile pace on average. 

I was quickly reminded of why running at Honu is nothing like running in training. About three quarters of the run is on golf course grass and steep little golf course hills. There is no hope of finding your rhythm, no hope of getting a good stride going, it’s just squish, squish, squish, up and down and up and down. And it’s hot – not just normal hot, but a steam room-like hot that seems to be frying you from above while the evaporating moisture from the grass smothers you from below. Can you tell how much I like this run? 

Pushing through the yuck

Having started the run a little frustrated, I was just hating life for the first few miles. Around Mile 3, for the first time in my racing career, I had to truly talk myself out of quitting. “I just really don’t want to do this,” I thought. “I’m not going to do this. I’m going to stop.” I pondered this option for a minute, thinking back on all those torturous speed sessions I’d run, all the hill repeats on the bike… did I do all of that for a DNF? “Okay, I won’t stop, but I’m just going to walk the rest of the race.” That was my next bargaining chip. Again I thought back on my runs – intervals I didn’t think I could make it through, paces I didn’t think I could hold, fourteen mile paced runs fighting headwind and midday Hawaii heat… I kept running. I also remembered that when I start to feel this way on long bike rides it’s usually due to lack of calories, so I reached in my pocket for the gel I hadn’t been able to get down on the bike and sure enough, within minutes, I was feeling better. 

Once I made it through that dark place, things actually started to improve. It was very uncomfortable, but I was able to hold very close to my goal paces in all but two spots on the course. The Hell’s Kitchen section, a stretch of flat, paved, sun-exposed road that most people dread, actually provided a welcome respite. It’s paved, it’s flat, and when we got to it on both the first and second loop I was able to pick up my pace significantly and make up for some lost time. The second time I went through that section I came up on Ashley, on her first loop, seeming a little frustrated that she was walking but still powering through. She was in the company of another athlete and they seemed to be doing okay. I was so happy to see that she was still going! I used my one minute walk interval to walk with them, then wished them well and fought onward. 

Based on the conditions I had adjusted my goals a little – hold 9:30 or faster paces during the run intervals for an average of sub-10:45 minute miles. A little disappointing, but still over a minute per mile faster than last year. I powered on. It felt very different from last year, in which I felt great for the first lap and then completely fell apart on the second lap. This time I was actually feeling better and better (all relative, of course!) as the race went on, and the miles ticked off steadily rather than dragging by. I think with six months of Ironman training, two Ironman races, and six months of intensive speed and power work, I am just a little more used to suffering this year than I was last year. I was still fighting the overwhelming desire to drink six cups of water at every aid station, trying to control my liquid intake while taking care of my body as best I could. As a random and fun surprise, there were a couple of friends out on the course who knew it was my birthday, and told me happy birthday every time we crossed paths. The unexpected result of this was that complete strangers who heard them started saying it too the next time I saw them, which was an excellent pick-me-up as the race went on.

Soon enough I was at Mile 12. I felt like I could run more than my specified interval, but decided to save it for the last set and speed up a little if I could. Up and down and through the grass we went, but now the end was in sight. Once I passed the last aid station my watch showed that there was about a half mile left, and I decided I could run it all and pick up the pace a bit. This wasn’t an “I’m feeling great and have extra energy” kind of being able to pick up the pace, more of an “I promised myself I would push to my absolute max and leave nothing out there” kind of thing. It took everything I had. I finished the last stretch around the grass and savored taking the right turn to the finish instead of the left turn for another lap. As I approached the finish, I saw Sean’s mom and dad. I ran under the arch feeling absolute relief that it as over. I hadn’t looked at my overall time on my watch once during the race, nor had I added up my individual splits, so had no idea what my time was. Given how the race felt, I was just hoping for 6:30 or under, which would take over 20 minutes off of my time from last year. I was still feeling a little disappointment at how things had gone. 

When I looked down at my watch for the total time and saw 6:18, the weirdest thing happened: I started to cry. There were some tears at Ironman Coeur D’Alene and a few more at Kona, but this was an uncontrollable flood of emotion, overwhelming relief that it was over and a release of all the pain of the race. It wasn’t the 6:15 I’d hoped for, but it was pretty damn close. Close enough to make me happy. It meant that I had taken 33 minutes off of my time from last year, and that I had been 12 minutes faster than at the much easier Mini Monster race I did in February, giving me a new 70.3 PR. It also meant that all the grueling work I put in since Kona had actually paid off. I had to stay in the athlete finish area for a couple of minutes before going out to meet people just to get my emotions under control. 


Sean had a rough day. His stomach went bad almost immediately on the run, leaving him only able to walk most of it. He fought through like a warrior and finished. Ashley kept up her steady work, pushing through the heat and the pain, and crossed the finish line of her first 70.3 victorious! Congratulations to both of them as well as all the other finishers, and thank you to my mom and Sean’s family for their support, my dad for being with me in spirit on many a long run, Michelle Suber and Krista Graves for being run/adventure partners extraordinaire, Melissa Schad for being by swim race buddy and awesome inspiration, and all of the athletes I coach for inspiring me daily with their hard work and determination.

The Delicate Tightrope Walk of Training-Life Balance

After the incredible honor and amazing experience of completing Ironman Kona last year on a Hawaii resident lottery slot, I sat down to think about what my goals for the upcoming year would be. I had just finished ten months of absolute -- and I mean absolute, a total of three missed workouts out of approximately five hundred scheduled -- dedication to Ironman, and I knew that I would feel a little lost afterward. Having made the mistake in prior races of not having any direction afterward and wandering off into the never-never-land of no training, I knew I needed to put something on paper.

I have always considered myself a slow triathlete, one who was happy just to be out there with everyone, to get to the finish line, and to gradually improve my own performances, even if those improvements still landed me solidly in the middle of the pack. Finishing an Ironman was such a huge goal, a long and monumental undertaking, that other goals seemed to pale in comparison. I was also fairly surprised by my performance at Kona, in which I took nearly ten minutes off of my bike time from Coeur D'Alene and over fifty minutes (!) off of my marathon, for a total of 59:15 faster, obviously a huge PR. Combining the seemingly lackluster appeal of non-140.6 endurance goals with my piqued interest in my ability to get faster, I essentially came up with a goal that can generally summarized as "get fast."

I should note that when I analyzed where I fell in my age group in Coeur D'Alene and at Hawaii 70.3 last year (I left Kona out of these calculations because I was clearly way out of my league!) I was in the top quarter in the swim, the top third on the bike, and in the bottom quarter on the run. This clear trend made me wonder if I could improve my bike a little and my run a lot and end up in the top quarter of my age group. So I sat down and wrote down the times I thought I might be able to do with a whole lot of work, and sure enough when I added them up it put me at number 13 in my age group compared to number 34 this past Honu.

I made some aggressive training plans -- the most notable was including the Run Less, Run Faster half marathon as part of my triathlon training. I also schedule weekly hill repeats on the bike and a weekly power-focused ride in addition to regular long rides. I did this fairly successfully starting in January. I got up at 5AM every day and was out the door in the dark. The running was crazy... so much harder than what I'm used to! At least every other week I was sure I wasn't going to be able to hold the paces the plan dictated, but somehow I always did, even if it almost killed me. Weekly interval runs that left me breathless and panting but feeling accomplished, and sure enough it started to show. My legs felt much stronger, my stride got longer, my "springs" were much more effective, and the unofficial PRs started coming almost weekly. My 10k PR improved by almost three minutes in the four months I did the program. My cycling was also improving dramatically with my weekly hill repeats, averaging 18+ mph on rides without putting in much extra effort. It was hard work but it was awesome. I felt on-track to kill it at Honu.

Sean and I NOT being triathletes!

Then in April we went to Italy for three weeks. The week before the trip my training was mediocre, both because I had a lot to do before leaving and because my mind was already flying over the Pacific. I struggled with it for a few days, but after talking to Sean I realized that this year is just not the time to try and get super serious. Two Ironmans and two other 70.3s have taken their toll and I need a break physically and mentally. I decided it wasn't worth it to say no to pasta and gelato in Italy for the sake of saving two minutes at Honu. It wasn't worth forcing myself to keep a strict training schedule while we were there. My husband and I need time together, my pets need attention, my non-triathlon life has to be given some time to exist too.

So, as I return to my training post-Italy with five weeks until the race, I am taking a slightly less rigid, more moderate approach. I will still work hard, I'll still train and do what I can, but life comes first, at least for now. I have so many good things in development (coaching, most notably!) that I want to put energy into them and see where they can lead. 2017 was an extraordinary year in triathlon for me. 2018 is going to be an extraordinary year in the rest of my life.

It doesn't come easily to us Type A athletes to back off, and that is one of the reasons I believe it's important. It's great to improve and to be disciplined and focused, but sometimes I think that for people like us that is almost easier. It's almost more of a challenge to take a step back and be a little less structured, a little less intense. It's a lesson I'm learning and working on, sometimes with more success than others.

So here's to Honu 2018 -- hopefully faster than previous years, hopefully fun, and hopefully a complement to my life as a whole rather than the focus of it.

"Aerobic-Focused:" Code for "Really Long"

Week five was what our training schedule innocuously referred to as an "aerobic-focused" week. Our long run jumped up to an hour and ten minutes, our long bike to 2:15, our swim to an hour, and all of these things were to be performed at under 75% of max heart rate. Per the schedule, I had been doing quite a few runs under 75%, so that wasn't too much of an adjustment. In fact, my ability to run in an aerobic state is showing dramatic improvement, something that encourages me greatly! When I first started I had to walk frequently to stay under a heartbeat of 150 beats per minute. Now I can run at a half-decent pace (half decent for ME -- don't get too excited) for what seems like forever at 138! When I started this heart rate training I had hoped that it might solve the riddle of why I am so exceptionally slow, and I think it's working!

As it turns out, what I thought was a moderate run pace was actually jacking my heart rate way up -- high enough that I couldn't maintain it for long distances. In the short term slowing down seems counterintuitive, but I'm discovering that as my body gets better at processing energy aerobically (using oxygen and burning fat rather than glucose) my pace is picking back up and I can hold that pace for distances that used to demand walk breaks. It's encouraging.

That said, I do feel like each workout lasts forever. The runs aren't too bad, but the bike this week was brutal. I decided to ride with my friend Barbie down in Kona, despite the fact that they issued a high wind advisory for the area. We started out and immediately it was just like a bad joke. Determined to follow my training plan, I down-shifted and down-shifted trying to find a gear that allowed me to stay within the aerobic heart rate zone. Barbie probably thought I was crazy. In my two easiest gears, I could barely keep my heart rate where it was supposed to be, the head wind was so bad. It howled in my ears, it felt like I was cycling dragging a beached whale down the highway.

Knowing that the return trip would be significantly faster with the tailwind, I added an extra 20 minutes to the trip out. Turning around felt like losing 100 pounds and growing wings! We flew back to Kona! Even with the time adjustment, we arrived back over 10 minutes early, meaning that the trip out had been over 50 minutes longer than the trip back! I did a little cool down to add some extra time, and then we filled up on some delicious post-ride burritos. All in a day's work.

Honu 2018 Training - Week 4

As I finish up Week 4 of my training plan for Honu 2018, it is becoming remarkably clear that either doing two Ironmans in a row resulted in some pretty remarkable strength gains, or allowing myself to train at higher intensities is simply unleashing the result of last season’s endurance focus. This week I ran ten miles for my long run, at a pace much faster than the 70% of max heart rate pace I did most of my Ironman running at, and it felt excellent! My legs hurt less, I never reached that point where every step felt like a battle… whatever it is that's happening, it's fun and I’m enjoying it. Also of note, Sean and I signed up for the Mini Monster 70.3 on February 11th on a whim, so apparently I’m going to be doing a half Ironman in six weeks. I always have to keep things interesting...

The first three weeks of my re-entry to structured training were purely run-focused, getting accustomed to my Run Less Run Faster half marathon plan while incorporating just two very low key, easy bike workouts to reintroduce myself to structured training and feel out my schedule. This week (after missing a week due to a really fun stomach virus), I amped up one more level, adding a bike workout focused on hill repeats, several power intervals to one of the other bike sessions, and two swims -- one at the pool and one in the ocean.

Since changing jobs, I have to get up much, much earlier to get my workouts in. However, it also means that I am home much earlier and that I have a lot more time to put toward coaching, both of which make me feel a lot better overall. I hated getting home at 8pm for the last two years, rushing to make dinner, eat, and quickly get to bed before getting up the next morning to do it all again. I am a much happier person when I have a little more time in the evenings, and it only took a few early mornings to remind me that awful as it feels when the alarm goes off, I really do enjoy being up to watch the sunrise. There is something special about seeing starlight turn into a wash of pinks, yellows, and purples.

Training itself this week went well. My tempo run (6 miles) felt great and although the speed interval run on Thursday of 5 x 1000 in Zone 5 felt like it might kill me at the time, I made it through and felt great afterward. Puako is a great place to do intervals as it is flat as a pancake, and provides a welcome respite from the monotony of the track. Hill repeats on the bike were actually fun in a sick sort of way (what has happened to me?), and getting on the bike after the tempo run helped in avoiding sore muscles.

Getting back to swimming was… cold. The Ka Milo pool felt like there might be chunks of ice floating in it -- something I truly don’t understand given that it never gets below 70 down there. I jumped in, gasped for air for a bit, did my 1800 yards, finally finding my stroke after about 600, and then promptly ran to the hot tub to reheat myself before showering. On Friday I swam in the ocean, and it took me a full 40 minutes to convince myself to get out of the car and into the water, it was so windy. Indeed, the water was choppy, murky, and full of weird currents that pushed and pulled me every which way, but getting back into the ocean always feels good on some level.

I also had the revelation this week, as I took the three minutes to warm up in the hot tub, that it has been far too long since I took just a little tiny bit of time alone to just soak up the beauty of my surroundings and not think. My mind has been so completely taken over by triathlon -- planning, training, strategizing, analyzing -- that I don’t think I’ve just sat and thought of nothing but how beautiful it is around me since May or June of last year. Now, I love thinking about triathlon, that’s no secret, but I remembered, sitting in that hot tub listening to the wind in the palms and watching them sway above me, that sometimes it is also important to quiet my ever-busy mind. I scheduled 10-15 minutes of this into my days the rest of the week, and it gave me peace like no amount of rest has -- a peace that has eluded me ever since Ironman training kicked up last spring and my schedule became packed down to the minute, constantly frenzied and driven and rushed.

The weekend arrived and I hit my long run: ten miles, eight of which were to be held at a pace between 10:15 and 10:35 per mile. I had also decided that I wanted to negative split the last three miles. For my sanity more than anything else, I ran from Waikoloa as usual but went out the opposite direction on the highway, away from Mauna Lani instead of toward it. This meant that when I turned back toward the resorts all I had to run was the hotel loop (4.75 miles) instead of passing the turn off and running additional distance. I don’t really know why more people don’t run that direction, because it’s actually quite pleasant. Gentle grade, nice views… anyway it was a good run and I felt strong. As I passed King’s Land I saw Sean on his golf cart and after trying in vain to muster enough breath to yell at him, I chased him down instead, adding an extra .1 miles to my route. The hug was worth it. (He may disagree, given how sweaty and smelly I was).

Sunday we are back to doing our “long” ride together, although for now long is only two hours, which after months and months of Ironman training feels like a lovely little jaunt. As usual, I told Sean to go on ahead if he wanted to go faster than me, since I generally like to keep my long rides in a solid Zone 2. He stayed with me until the big hill, when I again encouraged him to go ahead, assuming that he would blow me out of the water on speed. Surprisingly, though, I found myself hanging with him, at which point I decided that since it was only a two hour ride I may as well push a little more than usual and see if I could hang with his pace. Sure enough, I could, and not even pushing big gears to do so! I tried to keep my cadence fast and light rather than mash the big gears, and I made it through the whole ride feeling good and averaging 18mph, above my target pace for Honu this year. Most interestingly, I felt like I got a glimpse of what my cycling can be, much like years ago when by accident I found my perfect running stride. It’s an odd feeling to feel exactly what it should feel like, yet to know that you won’t be able to replicate it consistently quite yet. For the running it took over a year before I was able to reproduce that feeling on demand. Hopefully for cycling I can capture this feeling and technique a little faster, given where I’m at in training compared to back then. Either way, it motivates me to know that it’s possible, it’s out there. My body is capable of it, somewhere in there.

Despite the challenge, I am looking forward to next week. More hard runs, more hill repeats, more (cold) swims, and more learning. Gotta love this sport.