That's what friends are for...

....friends know you well enough to give you space when you need it, and push you to do things that you know you should be doing, even when you don't really feel like it.

I am fortunate enough to have 3 of these kinds of people in my life:

Jessi

Steve

Tiffany

Now, I know the last time I was in the water, but it was so long ago, I am too embarrased to say. Needless to say, my team had noticed my extended absence from the pool, and finally got fed up with hearing my myriad excuses (trip to Europe, tattoo, lazy, fat, slow, etc). So, they staged a sort of "triathlete's intervention". Rather than saying "hey lets all get together to swim!", it was more of "hey, the 4 of us are swimming this week....you tell us when". No escape this time!

Uh, what exactly is this mysterious blue thing???

We decided on Wednesday morning at 5:30. Ugh. Fear kept me from asking if we were going to do a formal workout. You see, while I have been spending many glorious months forgetting how to swim (an actual fear I have had), all three of my psychologists have been working their butts off in the pool and getting wicked fast. I don't have any verifiable evidence of this fact (probably because I forgot just where the pool is located), but knowing these 3, I am sure they are.

Fortunately, they took some pity on me and we mostly played around and laughed our butts off trying to get Tiffany's sweet new underwater camera to work. Highlights were the 4 x person synchronized breaststroke (we are damn good) and Steve trying to talk his way out of being beaten by a girl! And was I in any mood to stop the fun and games?? HECK NO!! In true hard core A+ style, Jessi did make us do a small pyramid. Probably just to teach me the hard lesson of why I shouldn't have taken so much time off. I struggled to get thru one freaking 150. Not good! But, I guess when you are at rock bottom in the pool, ya gotta start somewhere, right?!

So, why do I love my team??
- Because sometimes it is nice to be missed.
- Because it really says something when they will get up damn early on a Wednesday to come swim with me, even when I know good and well that they would rather be sleeping.
- Because they know just the right ways to motivate me.
- Because they give me just the right amount of guilt for missing a workout (or 100 workouts).
- Because without them, I would be nowhere near the athlete and person I am today.

The best team ever! Thanks for the push guys! :)

Struggling to keep it going

After a weekend of two zeros (but one damn fun party!), I spent Monday in a negative funk and was resigned to a lazy, pissed off, early to bed with no workout kind of night.

Fortunately, my team once again came to my rescue. Jessi and Natalie were scheduled to do a 90 min ride, and I was motivated just enough to go. Then Steve-o joined in, and voila! Instant weekday ride! With my crappy Monday, I was sort of expecting a blah ride, but I was hoping that maybe a good sweat session might snap me out of the funk. Not sure if it solved all my ills, but I did end up having a great ride. That's big for me, cause usually trainer rides aren't all that productive. I even succeeded in working up to a Zone 3 average heart rate, so that was a bonus. I suspect it was the presence of 3 awesome training buddies. So, thanks guys! I am glad I came.

Me, vertigo-less Jessi, headband rockin' Steve, and basketball goddess Natalie pound out the miles in the basement.

So, with an anti-zero Monday, it was off to the gym Tuesday night for another butt kicking by Steve. It made it easier to go when Andy agreed to go and do some cardio, so off into the night we went. Imagine my suprise and delight when Natalie came back for another hour of pain. And then, Trish stepped up and joined the party! Nice!! We did an intense 40 min of arm pounding, during which I quickly became frustrated at how I seem to be getting weaker with every strength training session. Uh, isn't strength training supposed to make me capable of doing more pushups rather than less??? Anyway, I made it thru ok, though my body didn't seem to have much to throw at this workout. Oh well. Something is better than nothing, right? Then we all went to get ice cream. Sweet! At least there was one good thing from the workout. :)

Fast forward a mere 8.25 hours, and I am up again, headed to the gym for more "pain with Steve". Hmmmmm, how many catchy names can I come up with for these workouts? :)
The weird thing this morning though, is that I am not really all that sore in specific places from yesterday. Rather, its just a general lack of energy throughout my body.

In fact, I feel kind of like this:

A big pile of useless bricks

My only hope is that I am somehow moving thru the stages of strength training, and I will soon arrive at the "feel awesome, feel stronger, can actually see muscles getting more defined" stage. Faith. Patience. I know that's what it will take to get to this stage. Two things I don't have alot of when it comes to this kind of stuff. Which makes Steve's job that much harder. If he can somehow convince me to keep doing this, I will count that as a major victory for him. Good luck, buddy! :) Right now the count is at 4 sessions. Which is 3 more than any other strength training routine I have ever embarked on. So far, so good. I just hope it pays off next season. And actually "seeing" some results would be nice too.

This changes everything....

Well, we had our first ultrasound yesterday, and here she is!

Yes, the first time I heard our baby's heartbeat, it was cool and it helped make the pregancy a little more "real". But yesterday took the cake. I guess maybe I am a visual learner, but seeing our baby on the screen, in real time, moving around, well, that somehow :) changed everything. For the good.

In the short span of about 20 minutes, a few major, life changing things happened:

1. I became a big, sappy, softy of a (almost) parent.
2. I have a new favorite song: John Mayer's "Daughters".
3. I think I could very easily cry tears of joy at any moment. In the past, it took me 140.3 miles of racing to get to that point.
4. I believe that an unborn hand can be wrapped firmly around my finger.
5. I understand the term "Daddy's little girl".
6. I am having visions. Like visions of some of this kid's major life events. Like first steps, first word, first run, walking her down the aisle, etc.

And yeah, we only have 10 or so pictures of this kid, but I already have a favorite:

Our little daughter is tired in this picture. How do I know? You might think it could be because during the entire ultrasound she was moving around and doing flips like crazy (uh, a product of 2 very active people maybe???). But no, you'd be wrong. If you have ever seen ME when I get tired, I rub my eyes. Whoa, this little one really is her daddy's girl! :)

Damn. This is all pretty cool!

And finally a shout out to the other third of our little (but growing) family. Andy is doing a great job keeping our baby warm, and fed, and safe. Considering that she's never done this before, and her body undergoing some pretty major changes, she is doing amazingly well. And I wouldn't want anyone else in the world to hang out with my baby than Andy. Love you, AP! :)

OUCH!

So, the tattoo thing turned out to be the easiest, least painful part of my weekend.

After watching the Beavs beat the snot out of the poor Cal Bears on Saturday...

...I stupidly coordinated with Steve to being my journey to strength training nirvana on Sunday morning. And I thought the tattoo was uncomfortable!

I had seen these things around the gym before, but every time I approached them, I got scared and ran away....

But Steve offered to kick my butt sufficiently so that I would look like this by the end of the winter. Cause that is supposed to make me go faster in races?

In reality, I knew that some sort of winter strength training regimen probably wouldn't be all that bad, and might indeed improve my speed next season.

Steve proceeded to spend almost 90 minutes with this, beating me senseless.

We did more stuff than I care to remember, and when I woke up on Monday morning, I felt like this:

Uh, the CAR, not the tank, by the way.

I was sore in places I never have been sore before. I am writing this on Tuesday. And I am still way sore. We are supposed to lift again tomorrow. Fear and dread fills my body. I hope that maybe we can back it off just a tad for awhile, to give my body a chance to adjust to this new crap.

To quote Dire Straits: "Sometimes you're the Louisville Slugger, sometimes you're the ball."

Today, I am the ball.

I just hope that Steve has enough motivational power to keep me going. That will no doubt be HIS toughest test this off season. :)

Tat-ing up!

Well, after talking about it for 3 years, I finally took the plunge and got my one and only tattoo.

BEFORE:

Still a chance to turn back...

But not now! Brent the artist at work

It is done! And I am still alive!!
AFTER:

While it wasn't completely painless, it really wasn't all that bad. It was uncomfortable, and kind of annoying. Lets just say it was uncomfortable enough that I probably won't be getting another one any time soon. Or ever, really, cause this is the only one I ever wanted.

I AM AN IRONMAN!

Starting over

So, this is how I have been feeling lately...

And yes, I know everyone will say "Whatever!", but, just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so too is laziness and Jabba-the-Hut-ness. So, if I have been feeling like a fat slug/Star Wars alien mobster lately, then I have become a fat slug. Not good.

Although I have been forbidden from using excuses since my A+ team discovered Rule 76, I have been struggling with trying to find an explanation for my recent blah-ness. Uh, recent, if you count 13 weeks as "recent". Bascially since the epic race Steve and I had in CDA way back in August, I have been feeling "off". Some of the top candidates for explaining this are:

1. Our 2 weeks of galavanting all around Europe. The jet lag, Dutch cheese, French crepes, and Swiss chocolate must have scrambled my diet sufficiently to require 3+ months of recovery.

2. My loss to Steve at CDA Olympic. This must have done something to the deep inner workings of my psyche that caused my inherent lazy-gene to become dominant. Clearly, if this is the explanation, then we must never let this happen again. In fact, I believe that to solve this problem, Steve and I need to race again ASAP and I need to win. This could work out well....Steve just finished the 70.3 World Championships, so he's tired. And he's still maybe a bit injured. So, we are going to race a marathon, which gives me a pretty good chance at winning. Sweet.

3. I am going to be a father. Soon. Now that I have been forced into coming to grips with this fact, and because I have had to take care of an occasionally sick, diet-limited wife, I have been rendered totally incapable of working out. Clearly. But seriously, this thing called couvade is real, my friends! Google it! And I must have it bad....

4. Some combination of all of the above. :)

Whatever the explanation, I am in the doldrums, and I need to snap out of it. There are seriously days or workouts when I am feel so sluggish and fat that I find it incomprehensible that I have actually done 3 Ironmans, including one pretty fast (for me) a mere 144 days ago. Or that I did a sub-3:30 marathon 39 days ago! To quote one of my favorite Bruce Hornsby songs: "What the hell happened to me?"

I don't know, and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of this current version of "me". So, I am officially starting over.

Day one was yesterday, a rare mid-week day off from work (thanks, fellow Veterans, for all of your sacrifices, by the way). I could have very very easily slept in, did a bunch of crap around the house, and be lazy. The stars were perfectly aligned for such a day. But I decided NO! I said to myself "You have been a slacker, and so, you must be punished by way of an ass-kicking morning of workouts".

Ass kicking #1: Out of bed shortly after 4am. And on the road to the gym shortly thereafter.

Here's the proof:

What is this foreign place???

Ass kicking #2: My old standby twice a week workout, the 60/30 brick. The 5:00am spin class followed by a transition to a 30 min treadmill run. Back in 2006, in the lead-up to my first Ironman, I did this workout consistently, and I give it credit to my love of "running off the bike".

Supposedly they call this a "spin bike". Hmmmm...interesting

Getting set up for the class felt very weird. Maybe because I hadn't done it in...uh...well, I can't remember. But I remembered my towel! And water bottle!

And cycling shoes! And running shoes!! Am I really going to do this workout???

The spin class was, as expected, tough, although knowing where I was fitness-wise, I tried (and mostly succeeded) at taking it a bit easy. It felt weird being back on a spin bike after such a long hiatus, but I managed the hour pretty well.

Then it was off to the treadmill for 30 min. I settled into 8:30s, and they felt ok. Not super-tough, but I was working. I passed the time (forgot my iPod...oops) by working on flattening out my foot strike, which for me constitutes a major shift in my running form. I decided to use the controlled environment of the treadmill to focus on this, and what better time than the cold, dark winter! I would count out 100 flat foot strikes on the left, 100 on the right, and then 200 on both. While it felt a bit weird and my lower leg/ankle muscles hurt a bit, I did feel like had I been going faster I might have felt a positive difference. After my run, my body was energized, but tired. Always a good feeling.

Why have I been such a slacker? It makes me feel like this......

To reward myself for actually getting my butt out of bed at 4:15am on a holiday, I went to Starbucks. Boo yeah.
Then I went home to rest up and recover before my next workout. Even so, pretty cool to be home before 8am and have a solid workout under my belt.

Part 1 done!

In the time it took to get my drink at SBUX, the rain started. By the time I had arrived at the sight of my next workout 3 hours later, it was a downpour.

Thank goodness I enjoy running in the rain!

Ass kicking #3:

Why I agreed to do a 10k trail run with Josh and Michael B, I still have no idea. These guys are 2 of the faster runners in the area. So, why in the hell do I seem to have this knack of replying "Yes" to crazy workouts posted on the forum by crazy fast athletes??? Must be more of that punishment thing. Thank goodness Bryan Rowe showed up, so I wasn't left too alone and lost out there on the trails. Uh, until he decided to drop my butt too. Oh well.

And it is cold out there too....

This run was fast, hilly, muddy, wet, painful, a suffer-fest, and....damn fun. Hosh and Michael took off into the forest like a pair of fleet-footed wilderness dwellers and managed to find more than a few "trails" that veered off directly up the steepest part of a hill. I realized that I was in over my head when the following exchange occurred 5 min into the run:

Hosh: Did any of you look at the elevation profile on the route map?

Us: Nope.

Hosh: Good. (then speeds away at a sub-7 pace looking like he's out for a Sunday stroll)

Me (to myself): I hate Hosh. And I hate me for replying "Yes"

Within a mile I was cooked and my heart rate was in the stratosphere. I knew we had gained some major elevation when I found myself running in the clouds. Every now and then Hosh and Michael would appear around a corner doubling back, pretending that they had gotten lost. While this did serve to keep us all closer together now and then, I think they were just toying with Bryan and I. Or maybe they were just looking to get a few more miles in.

In the end, I did survive, and Hosh gave me some props for making it thru the run after doing a workout earlier that morning. It was fun watching Hosh and Michael push each other ala Steve and I, except that it was happening way faster. And it was really fun getting in my car and turning on the seat warmers to high. And then going home.

Whew! I was home by 11:30am, my self-inflicted punishment complete. I only hope that I can SOMEHOW maintain this momentum and find my spark again soon. Cause if I don't, I may indeed end up being cast to play Jabba the Hut in the next Star Wars movie.

The times they are a'changing...

So, why did I end the last post by stating "Who knows what next year will look like" as far as my triathlon/racing life goes?

Because just about the time the 2009 season gets going, I WILL BE A DAD!!!

Andy and I are super excited, and super freaked out for the next great adventure of our lives. Off we go into the great unknown of parenthood. About the only thing we know for sure right now is that our lives are for sure about to be turned upside down.

We have had one appointment already, where we got to hear the heartbeat...that was pretty cool. The nurse reported that the little a+ had a pulse of 156. And of course in true obsessive triathlete form, I immediately thought "Perfect! Clicking right along in Zone 3, nice aerobic workout, kid" Ha ha ha.

So, when will my next race be? Who knows! When will I train/eat/sleep? Who knows! But I do know that I can't wait to cross an Ironman finish line with this as yet unidentified child. That'll be pretty awesome.

Not sure what else to say, since I really don't know what is about to happen. But I am totally psyched, and can't wait to see this kid!!