Just One Month Left

Just over a month to go before the Death Ride TourV, and I'm feeling the crunch of trying to get into shape for the ride.  

After 6 months on extended Army "vacation", I'm already in pretty athletic shape, but not quite ready for the 230 miles I'll be biking in the mountains.  Only being able to ride indoors or on a mountain bike around an air base has left me severely deficient in my preparations.  So, I've decided to prioritize my training to best prepare for the long miles and hill climbs.

I'm really nervous about the length of the first two days.  The first day will be 73 miles to Telluride and will end about 600 feet lower in elevation than the start in Silverton.  That leaves a lot of climbing and a total ride length that exceeds anything I've ridden in over a year.  The second day will be 111 miles to Durango with a total drop of over 2000 feet.  The drop helps, but the time in the saddle really worries me.

But the last day will be the hardest.  It's 20 miles of mostly flat terrain that I've ridden before, followed by a solid 3500 foot climb.  It's only 48 miles total, but the toughest climbs of the whole tour are saved for this day.  

I've taken to doing shorter rides on back to back days.  The daily routine builds up my saddle seat time, so I recover quicker and can ride all three days of the Death Ride without falling prey to saddle sores.  Also, the short but quick rides help me build the fast twitch muscle fibers I'll need to conquer the steep climbs in the Colorado Mountains.

I've been in the pool a couple days a week to build my lung power, since I haven't had the time to drive to Cloudcroft for the altitude training I wanted.  And I've been forcing Char to come to the gym with me for some strength and core training that should help with all around strength and endurance.

So, everyday is a struggle to pick out a workout plan to get ready in time without overdoing it and injuring anything.

So far, I’ve been able to knock out a 46 and 50 mile ride.  My quads are killing me after every ride that's longer than the one before.  Next week I hope to do a solid 60+, then follow it up with a 70+ ride the next weekend.  I don’t plan on doing a standard century ride before the tour, there’s just not enough time to build up properly, or recover.  I hope I’ll have enough fortitude to just stick it out in the saddle that day. 

They don’t call it the Death Ride Tour ‘cause it’s easy.

Spin Class Isn't Just for Girls Anymore

I think spin class is for girls.  

Or, at least I used to.

I was a firm non-believer.  Spin classes were for overweight wannabes, soccer moms, or the super athletic, spandex wearing gym rats that never do anything outdoors.  Spin classes had nothing to do with actual cycling. 

As a cycle snob, I didn’t think spin class could do anything for me.

I tried a spin class a few years back with a group of Soldiers.  I walked into the room thinking the class would be a waste of time.  I made sure that during the class I didn’t enjoy myself at all.  The seat was uncomfortable and I never felt like I was actually pushing myself during the workout.  I left feeling unchallenged and unsatisfied.  I was also not a cyclist back then, and laughed at guys wearing spandex/lycra and goofy jerseys riding around town or down the highway.  I was a runner and you would never catch me on a bike like that.

More than a year later Char and I made a decision to try something new.  We wanted a new hobby that we could both share and learn together.  It had to be healthy and get us out of the house.  She was a strong swimmer and I was struggling to keep above water.  I was a strong runner and she could never keep up on my long runs.  Our strengths and weaknesses kept us apart during our workouts.  Cycling was neutral territory as neither of us had ridden in years since we were kids.  Oh, I played around on a mountain bike in college and let her borrow it a couple of times.  But, otherwise, we were totally new to the cycling experience.

We bought new bikes and some inexpensive starter gear and started riding on the weekends.

As we developed as cyclists, and I began riding farther and faster during the weekends, the idea of a spin class still didn’t appeal to me.  I just didn’t see how it could do anything to improve my cycling.  I thought the only way to get better at something was to do that thing over and over until you improved.

Over time I became a more accomplished cyclist and began devoting more of my time to researching the sport and ways to improve my own performance.  There is a lot of literature that promotes using spin classes to develop stronger rhythm or cadence and fast twitch muscle fiber.  I loved riding in the mountains but had trouble with the longer hill climbs and began to realize that I was missing something in my workouts.

A few months ago I read a Facebook post by someone who I knew had become quite an accomplished cyclist.  Their weekly Saturday spin class instructor had put them through a grueling 4-hour workout.  4 hours?  That’s right about how long it took me to do my first 60-mile ride.  I couldn’t imagine being in a spin class for that long, but it gave me pause when I considered what that kind of intensity could do for my own fitness level. 

Then I found myself here in the desert on my pseudo vacation and without my bike to ride.  The borrowed mountain bike I used during the Tri the Deid Triathlon just wasn’t cutting it for my workouts.  The stationery bikes in the gym just couldn’t approximate the feel and posture of riding a real bike.  The Death Ride Tour was and still is approaching and I needed a way to prepare for it.  I wasn’t sure if spin bikes would really approximate the feeling of a road bike but it was the closest that I could come to the real thing. 

My first spin class was almost an accident.  I was doing a weight workout followed by cardio on the bike with a battle buddy.  All the regular bikes were full so we went into the spin room to use theirs.  As we were pedaling a spin class showed up and started warming up.  As the instructor started giving instructions, we shyly got off our bikes, and slinked out of the room.  But just those five minutes convinced me to come back. 

The next week I showed up for my first spin class.  The instructor was upbeat and very detailed in his instructions.  He took the first few minutes to ensure everyone had fitted their bikes correctly with regards to seat and handlebar height.  That alone made me more comfortable with the class and made for a much more effective workout.  Instead of fighting with the discomfort of the bike I was able to follow along with the different phases of the workout undistracted.  We did an assortment of intense intervals of hill climbing and sprints.  I left the spin class both exhausted and very excited about the workout I had just endured.  It was the closest feeling to cycling that I had experienced in months and I was determined to make it a part of my regular weekly workout plan.

The Spin Bike Room

Since then I’ve tried to hit at least two classes a week in conjunction with a weight-training workout.  The results have been telling in both my swimming and running.  The spin classes have been an incredible cardio and leg muscle workout and have helped to

shave more than two minutes off my 500-yard swim time, and 12 minutes off my Half Marathon.

Only time will tell how my cycling has improved once I get back to the States, but for now I’m confident and excited to continue to make spin class part of my regular routine.

The true test will be in two months when I take on the DeathRide Tour V in the mountains of Southern Colorado.  Until then I will keep spinning and cycling every week.

Gym Rat?

Are You Calling Me a Gym Rat? How Dare You!

I’ve never been one to lift weights and going to a gym has always made me self-conscious.  I am a skinny guy; I have small arms and not much upper body strength when compared to your typical gym rat.  With my predilection for endurance sports, I’ve never felt the need to lift weights or get “pumped up.”  I felt that most of that weight training would be lost on me.  It would just create extra weight that I would have to carry around on the bike or while running.

A few months ago, I read an article about weight lifting for cyclists.  It started me thinking about what I might be missing out on by avoiding the machines and free weights typically associated with body builders, football players and guys that “pick things up and put them down.”

Last summer I began training for my first triathlon.  I was already a runner and cyclist, but not much of a swimmer.  Let me be honest.  I had a solid sidestroke and that was it.  I couldn’t keep my face in the water for more than a second or two before I was choking and flailing for the side of the pool.  Char found me a nose-plug that helped me keep the water out and we spent the entire summer working on my swim routine.  As anyone who has read my previous posts knows, we did manage to get my swim up to where I could finally complete my first triathlon without lifeguard assistance or rescue.

Then I came to the ‘Deid.  I was determined to spend as much time as possible in the pool and get this swimming thing down.  As I developed my stroke and built power in my lungs, I started to notice that now the issue was my tired legs and arms.  I needed more muscle in my shoulders, chest and back to keep my stroke fast enough to propel me through the water. 

For the first time in my life, I hit the weights. 

I was timid at first.  I furtively glanced around the room to make sure no one saw me adjusting the weight on a machine, lowering it until I could lift it.  I wasn’t comfortable with my workout routines and I didn’t really have a solid plan.  I just picked a couple machines that didn’t look too uncomfortable and that I could figure out.  Some of these things look more like medieval torture devices than fitness equipment.  When I found a few I liked, I started hitting them a couple times a week.  I started to notice results in the first month.  I wasn’t really getting bigger, which is what I was afraid of, but I was feeling stronger in the water.  I was swimming faster for longer.  But I needed a better plan.

Sometimes, that’s what friends are for.

My boss is a meathead, and most of my coworkers can brag about benching some ungodly weight that makes me gasp.  They started dragging me to the gym for their workouts.  They showed me how to not be afraid of several of the free weights and more diverse machines.  At first, the muscle soreness was pretty scary and I was embarrassed to be lifting only a fraction of what they were using.  But over time I learned to accept my limitations and feel confident about the weight that I could handle.  Equipment that I couldn’t figure out before was now familiar and fitted into my own personal workout program.  I don’t feel bad at all about walking into a room full of weights, proudly picking up some bars that are probably meant for small children, and grunting away with the other Neanderthals.

I’ve started looking forward to my gym time.  I plan workouts that specifically require me to hit the weights either as a warm up or break between cardio sessions. 

I think I’ve become a gym rat.  I pick things up and I put them down.  Then I lift them over my head or pull them towards me.  Then I pull them down or swing them away.  And I make sure to grunt in a manly manner.

But on a serious note, I am swimming better.  I feel stronger in the water and my times are slowly dropping.  I don’t have to pause between strokes to breathe and recover.  I can maintain a pretty solid pace without exhausting myself after each lap.  My legs feel stronger and recover more quickly after a good run.  I noticed all these improvements in the Tri the Deid Triathlon last week.  Even after forcing a fat tire mountain bike through 15-20 mph winds I had enough strength to run an 8-minute pace for 3.1 miles.

Maybe becoming a bit of a gym rat isn’t such a bad thing.

Now, how do I get into that yoga class?  That looks like fun.

Tri the Deid

I Tri’d the Deid!  Which sounds worse than it actually is.

Last weekend I competed in the Tri the Deid Sprint Triathlon.  It was a modified sprint tri with 500 yard swim, ~11 mile bike ride and a 5k run.  The swim took place in an indoor 25 yard pool, thus the unusual distance.  The bike ride was 4 loops around the living and sustainment area of the air base with mostly borrowed mountain bikes.  There were a few teams and units that managed to smuggle and ship over their fancy carbon fiber road bikes, but for the most part we all rode on rickety mtb’s.

Let me go ahead and put this out first so there are no surprises or misconceptions.  I didn’t win.  I know, a surprise.

But I did get swim a personal best in the pool, and I rocked it pretty hard on the bike ride. 

The most intimidating image before a triathlon for me is the empty pool waiting to suck the life right out of me.

As everyone knows, I’m not much of a swimmer.  In my first ever triathlon in September ’12, I swam over 15 minutes for 400m to be the second slowest swimmer on Fort Bliss.  This time I was a little farther up the list with 13:15 for 500 yards.  All the time in the pool finally paid off.  I actually swam faster for a longer distance.  Just have to brag for a minute even though I was one of the slowest swimmers overall.  But this time, I was farther from the bottom than before.

I came close to being lapped, but was proud of my time nonetheless.

My bike ride was pretty awesome, for being on a fat tired mountain bike in the wind.  I pulled a 42 minute ride, the fastest guy on a carbon fiber rode a 27 minute time.  Most averaged in the upper 30 miuntes and most of those were on road bikes.  So, I beat almost all the mountain bikers.  And, believe me, there is nothing better than passing guys on road bikes like they’re sitting still.  Wimps.

Trying to ride a fat tire mountain bike into the wind.

My run was nothing to brag about.  After swimming and biking, my legs were trashed.  I came off the bike and could barely pick them up and put them down.  I ran a 24:52, almost a minute slower than I had anticipated.  On the return leg of the out and back course, the headwind was really frustrating.  Luckily, I had a friend in a fellow Captain that had just finished running for our battalion’s team (and scored the fastest 5K of the day) and came back to run with me for the last half mile. 

Check out my sexy shorts at the end of the 5K.  Also, that's CPT Akremi who came back after his 5K to motivate me.

Lesson learned this time around is that training pays off.  I’ve spent a lot of hours in the pool working myself to death to improve my atrocious swim form.  Also, even without the cycling amenities I have back home, indoor cycling and spin classes do pay off.

Best decision of the day was to keep my swim jammers on for both the bike and run portions of the tri.  The Army PT shorts I was supposed to switch into after the swim would have bunched up on the bike ride, especially in the wind, and would have chafed during the run.  Riding and running in a pair of TYR swim shorts (long “speedo” style) was a good decision that paid off in time saved and skin unmarred.  I may have looked funny, but I felt great.  Coincidentally, I had just ordered a triathlon short and top set that will be waiting for me when I redeploy.

Overall, it was an amazing race and great affirmation of all the time I’ve spent working out over here.  It filled me with the confidence to keep training for more triathlons.

We rarely achieve anything alone.  At times, we must all rely on someone to pass us a water or motivate us to finish.

Lessons Learned

I realized recently that I had forgotten to do something vital months ago and it was time to remedy my error.

Last September, just before I hopped an airplane ride to this wonderful vacation resort in the desert, I completed my first triathlon. Being new to the sport there were beginner’s mistakes I made in both preparation and during competition that I want to capture in words before I lose the valuable lessons learned.

The Iron Soldier Sprint Triathlon was hosted by the 1^st Armored Division at Fort Bliss, Texas. It took place in the Replica Pool and around the post. The event consisted of a 400m pool swim, 17 miles on the bike, and a final 5 km run. Both the T1 and T2 (that’s transition area 1 and 2) took place in the parking lot outside the pool.

I had a natural home field advantage as Charla and I live about a block from the pool. We have the opportunity to swim, bike and run the same course almost every day of the week.

However, no matter how many advantages you collect before your first tri, it’s still your first and you’re very likely to make some bonehead mistakes. It’s still scary.

The following are the three biggest lessons that I learned during my first triathlon.

The Swim.

Most of my friends and family know that I am a poor swimmer. Going into this triathlon I knew that would be my greatest challenge. For the months leading up to the tri, I swam at least three times a week, building up to where I thought I would be able to alternate strokes and hopefully survive the first test of the triathlon. My fastest time, with alternating between my infamous sidestroke, and a flailing freestyle, was a solid 12 minutes. I figured that during the race I could easily pull off a solid 13 minutes with the added crowd of other swimmers to deal with.

The morning of the triathlon, I stood in the pool building staring at the empty lanes, silent and waiting.  The water was perfectly smooth, undisturbed by the crowd of athletes gathering outside in frenzied knots.  I felt an almost uncontrollable shudder pass through my body as the fear of the impending race began to assail me. My mind was blank, and all I began to feel was pure panic at the thought of having to swim so far with so many others watching.  There was no room for error this morning, no taking a break or calling it quits if I cramped up or got too tired to keep on.

Pre-Race Intimidation

When it was my turn to start, I dropped into the water then took off easily.  Excitement filled me up, butterflies chased away by adrenaline.  I was proud of my first lap, my stroke was smoother than usual and I felt my breathing in a comfortable rhythm.  As planned, I paused at the turn at 100m to assess myself.  And that’s everything began to fall apart.  The group of swimmers right behind me began to catch-up; they weren’t pacing themselves but rushing out the first portion of their swim.  I was soon surrounded by a flailing, gasping crush of bodies.  The water was churned to in impenetrable cloud of bubbles.  I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t settle into anything resembling a comfortable stroke.  Even though the swimmers around me were slowly fading, and not going as fast as I knew I could, I couldn’t get around them and found myself stuck at their snail pace for the remainder of the swim.  I emerged at the end of the longest 400m of my life over 15 minutes after I had begun.

The Ride.

Is stopping to help someone in need a mistake? In the middle of a triathlon, I suppose it is.

After almost 8 miles on the bike I was feeling pretty strong.  I had passed quite a few other riders and was slowly making up time after my slow swim.  I grabbed my bike bottle for a quick sip, biting the tip to pull it open. My fingers were sweaty and I didn’t have a very good grip on it.  The bottle slipped and fell out of my hands and onto the road.  Instead of continuing on, I circled back to pick it up out of the road, and I watched as half a dozen riders that I had just passed shot by me. I probably lost a couple of minutes.

Not even a mile down the road I saw a rider standing on the side of the road with his bike, an obvious flat tire stranding him. Instead of continuing on, I stopped to ask if he needed help. He had brought nothing to fix a flat on his own, so I grabbed my kit and tried to help him inflate his tire enough to get him farther down to an aid station. He had a gaping hole in his tire and it wouldn’t fill fast enough with my hand pump. Another rider paused long enough to toss him a CO2 cartridge and pump. What I should have done to begin with.

The Transitions.

What I had thought would be a good plan before the race turned out to suck even more time from my overall race.  I wore my TYR trunks for the swim, then switched them out for some bike shorts and pulled on a technical shirt for the ride and run.  After the ride, I yanked off the bike shorts and pulled on my running shorts.  I would have definitely knocked a couple minutes off my time just by wearing some simple Tri-shorts for the entire race.  Then the only switch would have been to pull on a shirt and socks after the swim and switch shoes between the bike and run.

Overall, I’m quite proud of my first time participating in a triathlon.  The first thought I had after finishing was that I couldn’t wait for the next one.  I’ve since spent the last four months swimming, improving my bike technique and working more speed and interval work into my runs to improve my recovery time from the other events. 

How it all pans out in my next triathlon, well, we’ll just have to see.