December

Sometimes I don't want to train. Then for a day, I enjoy doing things again. I feel motivated to get up early and go to masters swimming. Then, three days later I can't even seem to get out the door, even in the middle of a pleasant afternoon. I am so hard on myself that my lack of motivation seems to only make things worse. I haven't been to a doctor for a while but I'm fairly sure I suffer from seasonal affective disorder (SAD). Winters are just plain hard on me, both physically and mentally. All of my hobbies revolve around things that are warm and outside. Plants, cycling, camping, gardens, pumpkins, etc...

This past month I can't count how many times I've meant to get out the door for a run or to the pool for a few laps. On several occasions I even managed to get a few blocks down the road on a run before giving up and heading home. I was coming unraveled mentally. I had even made plans to pack things up and head home to Spokane to get my life back to a stabilized, sustainable, and most importantly, meaningful state.

Since the cold dark weather was really starting to wear me down and I had no other options, I decided to make the best of current circumstances and pay a little visit to the treadmill. My outdoor runs previously were slow and difficult (for me). My best effort to maintain an 8 minute mile pace ruined me. Once on the treadmill I began playing around with my heart rate and discovered that at my current outdoor pace, my HR was like 115. Here was proof that all my feelings of sorrow and self doubt were just in my head. Once I realized that my mental thoughts were dictating my pace over my physical ones, I dialed up the pace and discovered that I could maintain a more encouraging 7 minute mile pace at a more useful HR of 145. Pretty much my long run pace I was at last year!

So now the days are getting longer (finally), training is a little easier (mentally), and I am feeling well and warm at the moment. My swimming with the masters team and coach Emily (and Janet) is paying off, due to correcting my wide pull. My run is feeling smoother and stronger, and I'm ready to get the bike dusted off and humming once again. Yes, here we go, the beginning of the next chapter, isn't this exciting?

Our new rental house! Oh the memories. You bet there will be some plants around come spring.

Spruce is our new warm cuddly friend. He's a one year old Labrador x Husky. His hobbies include tug-of-war, fetch, growling at shadowy figures, and burying bones in the house.

Keeping Myself Busy

Well it looks like winter is finally here to stay in Logan. There is now a substantial amount of snow on the ground and it is gray and cold. Yes I am still waiting to learn what exactly is happening with my life but I have decided to just do the best I can with what I have. Worrying about it too much wont help anything.

Mid last week I did a video tape analysis of my swim stroke and was a bit shocked. Swimming always came fairly natural to me so I figured I had a pretty good stroke. I was a little shocked to see my arms flailing incredibly wide when I pulled like a drunken spider or something. I was engaging the large muscles in my back no doubt (like I felt you were supposed to do) but I was loosing so much power by pulling wide. It's good we discovered this now so I can get things right for my rebirth on triathlon this next season.

So speaking of next season, it is very likely I will have a coach who will keep me on track and in the game. I have contacted a couple so far. I am a little nervous about the financial thing at the moment but in all honesty, as long as I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, a little bit of free time to train, and of course my Brianne, I am happy. Training by myself in the dark can only take you so far (so I've learned the hard way). It is an individual pursuit no doubt but a team effort. No one can do it on their own.

So this post has taken up a little time thankfully. I am feeling a bit more motivated after all of that so I think I will head off to the the pool and practice my drills. And one last thing before I go, I wish to give a shout out of luck to my two Jeremy friends (Cooper and Harwood) next week at Ironman Arizona. I know you will have a great day!

The Twilight Zone

Things have been interesting. Currently I am in that foggy twilight zone found between the chapters of my life. The job search is still going on. I have luckily heard back from a great vegetable and poinsettia nursery in Nipomo, California but it has been over a week since we last spoke and I am getting nervous. I really hope I didn't blow it on the phone interview. I know I am fully qualified and could do an amazing job for them. The only thing I am lacking is that little thing called experience. It is rather frustrating, you can't get a job these days without experience, and you can't get experience without a job. It is like a closed inside circuit. I suppose I could volunteer but then how do you pay the bills? Besides I have experience anyway, maybe it's not job experience but it's experience just the same. Perhaps I should start my own business. Who knows, maybe there is a market for old bikes draped in moss or something. In all, I am just lucky I still have Brianne and my parents to lean on in these hard times. But it is not that great, deep down it would be nice to be financially dependent.

Triathlon is hot on my mind too. I want to continue with my hobby but it is becoming more and more expensive. I need a trainer, Garmin, heart rate monitor, warm clothes, new shoes, etc... To keep improving and stay on track. Many people have asked me why I am not sponsored yet. It is good question but I always make up excuses like: I am not fast enough, I am not a professional, I don't want the extra pressure, I just do it for fun, or worst of all, sponsors will contact me if they want. This kind of thinking, I realize, needs to stop. I am fully capable of attracting and representing sponsors well. And to toot my own horn, I feel am able to compete well with the best of them (if I can just stay consistent and on track for more than three weeks).

So I wonder what will happen with my life; with Brianne's life? There are so many scenarios that can take shape. Will she go to graduate school here in Logan, UT? Will I get the job in Nipomo, CA? What happens if both happen? What happens if neither happen? Please, someone just let us know what is happening.

SOMA half

Depression, guilt, frustration, and even anger. These are not the feelings one wants to be experiencing leading up to a big race at the end of the year. If I am going to continue doing this sport I need to figure out how to keep my emotions from controlling me. Regardless of my feelings and condition, race day was here and there was nothing more I could do about it. At the very least maybe I should just try to have a good time right?

4:00AM, Sunday, October 23, 2011. My alarm clock began beeping from across the motel room. Both Brianne and I awoke in the dark and quietly began getting ready for my 6:32AM wave start. It’s funny looking back now but after I had decided to just have fun and enjoy my time out on the course in sunny Tempe, AZ, my head began to finally come out of my ass. I love training and racing, but I can make myself physically sick if I think about it too much. More than anything, this race was all about having fun and enjoying the experience. I took extra time that morning to savor my pop tarts and enjoy my cold coffee.

The pro wave started right at 6:30 which left the next wave (my wave) exactly 2 minutes to hop in the water and swim the 200 meters to the start line. Unfortunately, it took about 4 minutes for our whole wave to reach the official starting line. My plan for the swim was to take it relatively easy and make sure to swim in a straight line this time, not swimming any farther than I had to. Since I started far back in our wave (due to our wave not being ready in time) I spent a lot of time running into people’s feet. At the turn around buoy I paused for a mental check and realized I still felt very comfortable with my efforts. I held my effort all the way back maintaining the course and enjoying the sights of my surroundings from the water level.

Personally, I hate it when I hear people say they didn’t give a 100% effort and they still beat you. But I must admit I did just that. I pretty much “dogged” the swim.

As I made my way through transition I was making it a priority to smile and make light of the whole situation. Hey, getting out of your wet suit as quick as possible is pretty dang funny. I now know for me it is critical to smile and enjoy the whole experience of racing. As soon as I forget to do that, I seem to fall apart.

So now I’m a couple of miles into the 56 mile bike ride and I am still continuing with my 75% “dogged” effort. Unfortunately as much as I am enjoying the whole experience of the screaming spectators, the aid stations, and the warm sunny weather, a pack of about ten other riders are riding at my same speed. Since I am in no hurry, I am happy to ride behind the group (legally of course) and just watch. As we start creeping up a hill I decide to ride my own pace and so I move to the front. Then coming back down the hill the whole group starts passing me again. No problem I’m thinking, just let them do their thing. Soon I’m noticing that the first lap (of three) will be over soon and the group I’ve been trailing is beginning to annoy me with their pitiful distance perception on legal drafting and their unsteady pace. I’m feeling pretty awesome at this point riding at 75% so I decide it’s time to try cranking up the effort to 90%.

The rest of the first lap felt great and so was the second lap. I was riding hard but definitely not at full speed. Despite riding entirely below my (perceived) capabilities, I approached the end of the final lap with my legs beginning to feel funny. I was hoping they would last a little longer for the final discipline, the run.

At the start of the run I was way farther up in the ranks than I thought. Definitely nice to see, but I had to remember this is a triathlon, not a duathlon. The finish is still 13.1 miles away. The goal now was to stay as patient as I could and just keep running, even if it was slow. Despite staying patient, I started catching people anyway. The first person I ran up to, I made it an effort to talk and keep pace with hopefully getting me to slow down. My “pacer” didn’t last nearly as long as I hoped when he suddenly slowed after twenty seconds and said, “Well, good luck man.” In another mile or so, still trying to patient, I ran up to one of the pro women. “How’s it going,” I said, trying to sound normal… Nothing. “What’s your pace you’re trying to hit?” I said anyway (now knowing this was not the sort of question you ask a pro, especially a tired and irritated pro)… Nothing. “Okay, well good race,” I said as I slowly moved forward.

As I waited for my legs to fall apart at any second but still feeling okay, I made my way up on another lady pro. “How’s it going?” I said anyway, this time not expecting much… Nothing. “Well good job.” I said as I ran ahead. It was shortly after this that my hamstring had finally had enough and cramped up. Great, I have like 8 miles to go and I’m cramping already. This is going to be a long, long run home. I stopped to stretch and my hammy surprisingly felt much better. I was able to run (relatively) normal again. I caught back up to the lady pro but I didn’t feel like passing her again so I just hung back a few feet. At the beginning of the second and final lap I needed a pit stop…BAD! I had taken some electrolytes during the bike for the first time ever so I wonder if that had anything to do with it. Anyway, as I began running again my spark seemed to be missing. I was having trouble getting my feet to come off the ground and I noticed I was running the same pace as everyone else, now swarming onto the course. Soon I began having trouble just keeping up with those around me and my groin began to hint another cramp was coming. Yes, the end was upon me and even if I wanted to race, I couldn’t. I was a cramping and bonking mess. The last 5 miles I would be exercising the bonkaroo shuffle. I felt like quitting and laying down but I finished.

I finished in a very sub-par, eighth place in my age group and twenty first over all. But considering my state of mind and training approach the last five to six weeks, I am happy I started the race and even happier I finished. So now I guess it is time to sit back, take things a little easier, and think about what improvements can be made for next year. I am looking forward to a new season and I am looking forward to improving. I am even looking forward to a having a coach which for me I feel could be huge. But I think most importantly, I am looking forward to having more fun like I did here at SOMA.

The Change

It is clear to me now that something is not right. For the last ten days I have been steadily sliding into a black hole of depression and exhaustion. My problems became apparent the day Brianne left for her girls version of The Hangover in Las Vegas and the weather changed. That exact day the weather plummeted from a delightful 85 degree sunny, calm, splendid day to a rainy and snowy storm of yuck. I went out for a ride anyway and absolutely froze up solid. Cold and Adam are like oil and water, we just don't mix. Up until that point my training had been going tremendously which was filling me with all sorts of confidence for my big half iron showdown at SOMA in Tempe, AZ. But since that day when Brianne left and the weather changed, I have been sinking into a hole I can't figure out how to dig back out of.

Researching the symptoms of over training, it was shocking how close I fit the description. How did I let this happen again?! My current training did not even approach the training I did in Moscow, ID where I lived like a hermit and biked like 400 miles a week along with 40 miles of running and 15-20,000yd. of swimming? I know I was stupid back then in my adolescent triathlon days and I was obviously over trained then. Knowing that now, I take a scheduled easy day and/or a rest day once a week. If I am still feeling completely fried, I'll take another day off or make it real easy. Meals are another factor of the triathlon equation I've been paying more attention to this time around. I make it a big point to meet my protein needs, something I have neglected in the past. I have also been keeping an accurate and detailed journal of my training so I can see what I have been through and what should come next. But I guess all that doesn't matter because I am still wrong.

I think my trouble is that I can't do just ONE thing. I need to have other things to do. Even if it means I can't do those things 100%. If I am allowed to do just one thing, I will quickly become bored with the task and start doing something else. Then I will abandon that for something else, and so on. I now believe that the mind and body work more closely together than I have ever realized. Your mind needs to be, lacking for a better choice of words, "Happy". If your mind is not willing, then your body will surely not follow.

So how do we fix this problem then? I am not entirely sure but I think the first priority is to become settled and comfortable. Comfortable yes, settled no. I need to be apart of something more than myself. Brianne and I joined a little local triathlon club but I feel a little out of place. I am the only guy and both Brianne and I are the only "young" people. Not that there is anything wrong with that, its just hard to relate.

So that is the change. I know success and improvement comes with being consistent and driven and going out on days when you don't want to but so far, that mentality has always left me tired, depressed, irritable, over trained, and not having any fun what so ever. It is becoming increasingly clear now that I need a coach to keep me on track and from doing stupid unnecessary stuff. A group of crazies like me would help too... not necessarily training buddies (although that would be even better) but just people like me... for camaraderie and moral support. I think everyone can relate.

The Elephantman and a Wedding

As I sit here thinking about this past weekend's race and everything else, I have a feeling this will be a long post. There is too much that has been happening and there are too many friends to acknowledge for this to be a little "blip" of a post. So I apologize for those of you having to read this novel of an entry just to get to my point. I also apologize for sounding corny sometimes. Things sometimes sound really cool in my head but then almost embarrassing in text. So sorry for sometimes being corny... Dang, I'm still talking... blah blah blah... on with the show.

The weekend before Elephantman I attended a wedding. I was nervous that the time away from training would seriously derail my preparation for Elephantman and ultimately affect my performance at the SOMA half-iron triathlon a month later. Fortunately I was able to keep my jets cooled and everything worked out fine. Attending the wedding was probably a blessing in disguise. I had put in some hard weeks of training and a few days of rest would likely do me good. However, a few of us at the wedding were entered into a 10k run just for kicks and giggles. I'll spare you the boring details but I had a massive negative split indicating my form was coming around.

On race morning a week later, I awoke at 5:00am from a sleepless night at the Oxford cabin with my fellow NMSU Triathlon Race Club team mates. We proceeded to gear up, fill our bottles, and jam some breakfast down our throats. I never know what I should eat but I had decided that 2 brown sugar and cinnamon pop tarts, a banana, and a few bites of a plain bagel would do the job along with a cup of instant coffee.

The Elephantman course is easily the slowest (and hardest) Olympic distance triathlon I have ever done. The swim is a mile in length and always seems slow, regardless of the conditions. The slightly long 26.5 mile bike is easily summarized as hilly and windy. You are either ascending a 10% grade or descending it. The last 10 miles of the bike are flat and fast but you are so tired at that point. Finally on the run, the first (and last) 3/4 of a mile is on soft sand and again, hilly. Then you run up some more hills to the turn around before repeating it in the opposite direction.

I am not sure where to place this but I must mention it. A few days before the race, my good friend Brian Perrine passed away. Brian was a member of the NMSU Race Club and his absence from the race and from life hit me harder than I thought. The final days leading up to the race Brian was on on my mind an awful lot. Even though he was gone, just remembering him and his life gave me strength and motivation to carry on when things were getting tough and looking hopeless. Before Brian I though it was amusing that people would dedicate a performance to someone, especially someone who is gone. I don't find it strange at all anymore and honestly, I feel if anyone still finds it amusing they are missing the whole point of relationship, of life, of a friend. I miss you Brian. This one is for you.

The race started as normal and we were off at 8:00. As we settled into the swim I did my best to find a fast pair of feet to follow. Unfortunately the water was so murky that it was nearly impossible to see the feet in front of you. I realized that just swimming by myself was easier. I was swimming hard but making sure to stay within my limits knowing that this race is won on the bike, most years, followed by a solid run. The swimming course was a little different this year (a big 'T') compared to previous years so you had to stay pretty alert with all the extra turns and buoys in the water. As I rounded the second to last buoy there were some extra same colored buoys floating around. I was starting to get confused so I stopped to look around and figure things out. Well, I thought I figured it out, so I started swimming again but I was mostly just following the people in front of me. Eventually I swam up to the splashing swimmers I thought were swimming my direction but quickly I realized they were swimming right at me! OOOH NOOO! I had swum to the wrong buoy! Now I had no idea where I was or what buoy I was supposed to swim to. Should I just jump in with these swimmers and swim the course again? Should I swim back exactly the way I came? I finally just decided to swim directly back to the beach where we exited hoping I wouldn't get DQed for missing a buoy. "I messed that swim up so bad!" I thought as I ran up the beach. I wish I knew how much time I actually lost but I don't. It could be four minutes, it could be one minute. Who knows?

I got out of the water in 27th position. Ouch! I've never been that far back before. Mike Montoya hollered at me that I was over 5 minutes down and although I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me I was super motivated to give it everything I had.

At the top of the first hill out of transition I started to get to work. I wanted to be a little more conservative at first but being so far back after the swim, the time for patience was gone. One by one I worked my way through the ranks. At first, passing the cyclists just ahead of me came relatively easy, but as I moved through the field, each progressive cyclist became stronger and stronger and the passes became just that much harder. At mile 15 the hilly uphill battle was over and it was flat and fast the rest of the way back. I pulled up on Rance Irvin with maybe 8 to 10 miles to go and moved into third place (not knowing that at the time). I seemed to be having one of the best bike splits of my life but would it be enough to make up for my horrendous swim?

Rolling towards T2 I couldn't believe what I just did. I took another wrong turn! What? Am I trying to give myself a handicap? Although I was having a good day physically, I was just making every mistake possible. I ended up rolling all the way around the parking lot and then back up the hill to get back on track. Again how much time I lost is anyone's guess. Likely around 30 seconds but could be 15 or more either way. Despite my little mistake around the parking lot, I surprisingly still recorded the fastest bike split of the day! Now the run... the race is on!

I stormed in and out of transition still not knowing if I was tenth or first. Someone eventually yelled I was third but first and second place must be miles ahead since I couldn't see them. Last year on the run I just sort of fizzled away, and pretty much gave up. I wasn't contentiously thinking about Brian, but each time the going was getting rough, he seemed to just pop into my head. I felt I couldn't slow down otherwise I would be letting him down. Eventually I saw second place but he was ridiculously far away. It didn't matter. I would keep pushing no matter what, all the way to the end.

I was beginning to make all sorts of weird noises and gasping groans running up the last final hill to the turn around but I made it without collapsing. At exactly mile three, I caught Adam Miller and moved into second place. I was running as hard as I could but I still didn't know if I was running that fast, sometimes it's hard to tell when you are so tired, have numb hands and tunnel vision.

The last few miles I kept thinking that at any moment I would collapse and need to be carried off in an ambulance as my vision got slowly darker and more narrow but thankfully I held it together to finish second to Michael Stoner who swam like a fish and rode like a freight train to destroy us all. Despite my efforts of combining the best bike and run splits of the day (the run was a new run course record surprisingly) I still couldn't close the gap on Michael. However, I know that my placing on this day was not my primary goal. I wanted to be satisfied with my efforts and more importantly, race for my injured and missing friends.

But before I sign off I want to acknowledge some more people who have helped me get this far. In no specific order... Jeffery Oxford- for your leadership, Taylor Burgett, for firing me up to train and race, Xavier Nolen- for being the best bike training buddy, Deanna Drayer- for your supporting friendship, Silvanna Francescitti-for your light good humor, Pietre Hamblin-Hatchell- for your cool natured friendship, Jason McClure- for your pre-race pasta dinner, humor, and everything else, David Rutledge- for being a good friend and showing me the cycling world, and finally Brianne- (I could write a whole blog entry on this one) for letting me do what I want to do (mostly) and loving me for who I am. You mean everything to me. So that was the Elephantman 2011. An interesting race to say the least but, a damn good time! Sorry this post has gotten a little emotional but I guess I really did race for my friends whether I would admit it or not. I honestly appreciate the time we spend together.

The Logan Race Club

It's true, Logan, Utah has a Race Club! Just like NMSU! However, this "Logan version" of Race Club is a little different, it is cycling only. Yesterday, after three or four weeks of trying to find them, I finally managed to catch up with them during their Tuesday Night Ride. For those of you who ride in Las Cruces with Zia Velo, it is like their "Heater" ride, meaning, it is FAST, HARD, and AGGRESSIVE.

It was nice to finally meet some other people who share my passion and interests and learn some new names (which I will probably forget by next Tuesday). Of course rolling into the parking lot all by myself not knowing anyone I was nervous as hell stuttering and shaking all over the place but once we got rolling, my nerves settled down and I began to get my feel for riding in a group again.

After the ride, where there were about three or more very hard pulls for the sprints, a couple of the riders asked if I went to Gonzaga since I had on my Gonzaga jersey. "Unfortunately no" I said. "I just grew up in Spokane and my Mom is a huge fan of their basketball program and sends me all of their swag if she sees it." However, don't get me wrong, I too am a fan of Gonzaga basketball!

So the ride went well. I managed to not make too big a fool out of myself while riding in a new group and basically just followed wheels to see where we were going. Maybe after a few more rides with the Logan Race Club big boys, I will try and give one of the sprints a try, even though I am not very good at sprinting. Overall, Logan is pretty awesome. There is beautiful scenery everywhere, numerous recreation options, and of course GREAT cheese (which seems to be my food of choice lately). I must eat a block of cheese every seven to ten days. That, and a gallon of ice cream. Thank goodness for my active lifestyle or I swear I would weigh 1,000 pounds by now.