My Convertible Energy

This isn't quite the Dead Sea Scrolls or The Secret, but it might as well be in the way it's helped me recover from the decade (my twenties) that kicked the living crap out of me emotionally and spiritually. Recognizing my Ennegram personality archetype (1) also helped me cope with life's bumps and even discover why I like cycling so much and why I love entrepreneurs.

According to the Ennegram paradigm, Type 1's integrate to 7 and disintegrate to 4.

In this way, my fundamental emotion/bodily reaction (anger) isn't merely one of my "deadly sins", but truly a convertible energy and a source of strength.

Cowboys and Astronauts

I hooked up with a group of loner triathletes this weekend to ride the famous Rabbit Hash route-- about 80-90 miles from Hyde Park (Cincinnati), Ohio to Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. Talk about a ride of extremes! From swanky urban couture, through blighted urban decay, to pristine parks and vistas, past ex-urbia mcmansion sprawl, industrial parks, then finally out to lush rolling hills, hill billies, and... my favorite mark of an awesome bike ride-- retired farm equipment. That's when you know it's good-- YEEHAW!

Rabbit Hash general store sells "potions and notions" and is a popular destination for cyclists from all over. They're nice people who talk twangy, have barn dances, and have stubborn opinions about global climate change and politicians.

Here's the bustling river metropolis known as Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. The mayor is a bitch...literally, a female dog.

For three years, Mary Lou, the border collie mayor, runs the world's best pit stop for cyclists. Her campaign is financed through some hairy sources.

PERFORMANCE
I rode like a champ, attacking hills, bridging packs, taking monster pulls at the front of pacelines, catching up after all my bazillion pee stops. My nutrition was clutch but needs improvement. I packed 50 dates (40-60 calories each ~ 2000) and 70 oz of water, and 15 oz of celery juice. The celery juice was for electrolytes (anti-cramping). It worked like a charm, while it lasted. I refilled my three water bottles at Rabbit Hash. I finished the dates at about mile 70, with 20 miles to go. That's when I hit a wall and had to beg someone for a Gu. I felt better immediately. It pepped me up, but I was still beginning to cramp. In the future, I need to take in more electrolytes. Some of the veteran Ironmans on the ride swore by SaltStick capsules. I'm not against taking salt capsules-- they could be vital for safety. But I want to continue to experiment with celery and coconut water, which I love so far.

Raw Coconut Water
20oz water bottle = 3-4 coconuts
218.9 mg calcium
228 mg magnesium
182 mg phosphorus
2280 mg potassium
957 mg sodium
(+ hydration!)

SaltStick
1 capsule (to be taken every 30-60 minutes)
216 mg sodium
63 mg potassium
11 mg magnesium
22 mg calcium
(where's the beef?)

If they weren't such a pain in the ass to buy, prepare, and clean up, it would be a no-brainer. Even though I hate celery juice at home, it tastes like rapture on a long ride. But I'd be nuts for coconuts at home or on the bike.

Electrolytes were so important to the wildlife of pre-historic Rabbit Hash (12,000 years ago), that nearby, at the famous Big Bone Lick State Park, there is a repository of mastodon bones, sloth bones and gargantuan bones of all types from creatures lured to the salt springs. The behemoths needed calcium, sodium, potassium, and magnesium too!

I always try to pay attention to the way the other riders and mastodons in a group are eating and hydrating. It's obvious why some of the better riders fall off the back and wonder why. I'm actually scared of how fast and far they could go if they actually figured out the power of calories. It also amazes me how infrequently they go for their water bottle. Almost always, they only have one or two 20oz bottles on their bike when they should be consuming all 40 oz per hour! On a 4-5 hour ride, that's 10 bottles worth!

WHAT DO COWBOYS ASTRONAUTS HAVE TO DO WITH ANYTHING?
Rabbit Hash has a bunch of cowboy-types-- swaggery and self-reliant. Many live in the illusion of an open and infinite system. The rolling hills and prairies extend forever in inexhaustible beauty. "Do people really think they are that significant and powerful to mess up the good Lord’s finest gift to us folks…this entire planet earth?" (-Herb, Rabbit Hash blogger). Of course, we don't think you, Herb, could mess up the entire planet Earth on your own. It's true, I feel sorry that you have to wear sunglasses at night to keep the glare of the casinos out of your view of the Milky Way--that is truly tragic. But, you've perfectly underscored the famous "tragedy of the commons." Every person acting in their own self-interest (a capitalistic virtue), enjoys their integer benefit, for the expense of a fractional tax distributed toward everyone's "ownership" on a limited resource.

THE TROUBLE WITH COMMONS- Let's say we all let our free range cattle graze on a prairie of finite acreage. Then, I get the enterprising idea that, "surely there is enough land to support my one additional cow. It doesn't hurt anyone." But that's exactly what every intelligent neighbor thinks too. Eventually we all privately start to notice irreversible erosion of topsoil, poopifying at the creek, and grasses are being eaten faster than they can grow. We don't say to ourselves, "Well, gosh, I should reduce my number of cattle, so the prairie will be there for future generations." In fact, the vanishing commons is an added incentive to put more cattle on the prairie faster! It's like being at a sporting event and having to stand to see better since everyone below you stood. Then you have to to tip-toe since everyone below you tip-toed. We're all getting tired and we can see no better. We're hoping for a "green technology" that will enable super-tip-toeing.

And that's exactly how we hurt the Earth, by acting like it's too big to mess up, presuming that God is so generous that she won't allow us the freedom to gunk up. You're probably right, the Earth will survive; it's the casinos that will bonk. And you, Herb, may be the last one standing.

ASTRONAUTS
Astronauts, on the other hand, live in a closed system with their garbage. They poop into vacuum cleaners, carry their rations of food and water into space, and have a clearly defined boundary within which they live, beyond which they die. They are forced to live with their own pollution and flatulence. They live in a land of extreme consideration for the commons. Is it natural? No. Is it necessary? Inside a school bus in space, yes. So when does a school bus in space become a planet? They are no different, except in complexity and age.

I'm hopeful, that in our planet of abundant photosynthesis and fungus, there's got to be some middle ground between the myopia of the cowboy and the prison cell of the astronaut. I think it's called permaculture and I think Anastasia knew what she was talking about.

I fear the mathematical and biological question of what is a sustainable scale will be trumped in every committee by the socio-economic question of what is an "acceptable" scale...usually hi-jacked by the person(s) with the most power and the least inclination toward justice, welfare, and the 7th generation.

So, for now, I will continue to search for ways to kick the man in the balls, ride my bike to beautiful places like Rabbit Hash, and build my domain.

Cool inspiration in Dayton, Ohio. Small scale. Simple construction. Living roof. Durable materials. Surrounded by a lush children's garden.

Nice fence idea inspired by the Wegerzyne park in Dayton.

NEW BIKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I have the greatest wife in the universe... of all time.

Wednesday, she surprised me with an early b-day gift-- A NEW AMAZING TRI BIKE. I totally got punked by my woman. I can't believe it's mine. And I can't believe she's mine. The whole situation was the frickin doge!

She had invaluable support and generosity from our friends Brett and Kristen Hungerford of Element Cycles.

After the time trial on 4/11, I posted a race day report, which brain-on-wheels-Brett read while on vacation. Apparently it frustrated him to hear how I almost broke the 1-hour barrier on a 40kTT while riding Susie's bike. So he and Kristen made it their mission to conspire with Susie to maximize my aero.

The MIT track cycling team has won the national championship the last three years in a row. It sounds surprising at first, but there is a distinct advantage in analytical racing, which MIT nerds are brilliant at. It's always better to work smarter than harder. Thought itself is a performance enhancing drug.

There's plenty of white paper research to back this up, but as Brett estimated, by being properly fitted for your own bike, you shave 2 minutes off a 40k time trial. By switching from spokes to aero wheels, you shave another 2 minutes. By switching to an aero helmet, you save 1 minute. All of a sudden, you can see why he was so frustrated. These numbers are all generalities, of course, open for debate, but I can't wait to find some proof in the pudding at the next time trial. It will be a completely different race from my neck and butt's perspective.

I'm on my new bike at Element Cycles, getting fitted by Brett with Retul.

Swim Stroke Analysis

On New Year's day 2010, I made resolution to learn how to do flip turns in the pool. Now, I'm pretty good at them. But that's about all I'm good at in the water. It's definitely my weakness of the three triathlon disciplines, which means there's plenty of room for improvement. NOTE: Of the three disciplines in Ironman, the swim is the least emphasized. Even though the distance is 2.4 miles, and that kinda sounds like a long way to swim, it only takes about an hour to complete. Compared with the bike and run portions of such a long race day, an hour is nothing.

I've finally reached a level of comfort with the water with my breathing and kinesiological awareness that I feel very coach-able right now. I've recruited swim coaches (and friends) Mike Pater and Justin Karp to help me improve my swim technique. They've given me a tons of help!

SUMMARY OF ANALYSIS
Positives: I have pretty good rotation, my arms are no longer spinning like helicopters but instead have somewhat of a glide, I can breath to either side (where the waves aren't coming from), I finally feel comfortable

Negatives: My hands are flat, my hips are low, my chest is high, my legs are limp, my chin is up, my cadence is unpredictable

Now that I know my action points, when I try to work on all of these, my brain is confused, so mental focus will be the most important. It will require a ton more repetition to build muscle memory. I will also have to re-learn how to flip turn since tucking my chin properly throws off my vision and timing (not that flip turns are important in an open water race). And finally, no more swimming with a crutch-- the pull buoy has to go. Once in a wet suit, the buoyancy will resemble a pull buoy and it will feel like a relief, but for now...man up and learn how to keep activated and elevated. 

Head Games- Tapping into my Sub-conscious

We've entered the phase of Ironman training that feels like perpetual mono. Luckily, I'm feeling inappropriately good and my nagging ankle injury finally took an uptick toward the "new and improved." I have to admit, the last six weeks have really weighed on my team morale and challenged the depth of my mental and physical training. But yesterday, after my bike ride, I was able to run 4 miles pain free-- I felt like I was on top of the world! Cha-CHING! With yesterday's minor triumph, I am finding it much easier to adopt a hopeful attitude toward the even tougher training to come (16-20 hour training weeks). I've reached a critical mass of hope.

Although I feel a bit behind in my training schedule, I am confident I can pull my shit together. And I am going to incorporate any and all "tricks", no matter how seemingly wacky, frou-frou, psycho-spiritual, or "out-there" they may seem.

In fact, from footballers to golfers, many professional athletes bank their success on the advantages their off-the-field coaches and brain-training brings to their game. In some half-remembered book about Lance Armstrong, I recall the author asking one of Lance's trainers if Lance represented the upper limit of human performance. He enthusiastically predicts, "No way. We haven't come close!" He points to the power of the mind, meditative trances, the mastery of breathing, just to name a few.

Trick1-Nutrition
If the peleton's performance enhancing drugs can improve performance, why couldn't radical nutrition? Is the price of radical nutrition too high for most athletes? I'm hoping yes, as it pertains to my competitors. Preeminent to this year's training plan has been my radical commitment to learning about and then eating nature's absolute best stuff. Have you ever heard of a slow cheetah? Aren't all cheetahs dang fast? Yes! If they eat as nature has taught them to eat over the last millions of years, they end up racing pretty fast. Although my diet rubs against our relatively nascent culture (a blink of an eye compared to the evolution of our GI-system), there is so much evidence to suggest that fruits and veggies in their raw, organic, home-grown, and nurtured forms are an optimal nutrition sources for human performance...and more importantly, for optimal off-the-field living, which performance enhancing drugs can't very well deliver on in the long-term.

Trick2-Subconscious re-programming
Many studies on the power of the subconscious have similarly inspired me as possible untapped (and low cost) advantages. Even though we think of ourselves as being a species with free will, over 85% of our "decisions" are made in the subconscious. And with the kinds of messages that we surround ourselves with, it's a miracle we have any self-esteem or creative energies left at all. In a single day, we're exposed to literally 1000's of advertisements calling attention to all of the unimportant things we don't yet have. So, I asked myself what might my inner-world look like if I could actively participate in the design process that feeds into a more healthy subconscious.

Tulips are pretty-- duh. But, FYI, they are the same flower my beautiful bride decorated our wedding with. We planted zillions of bulbs just to find the ones that were the right color and blooming at the right time. They are the sexiest flower and one of the first signals that the darkness of winter is over. They feed my soul. It's important to me that they are in front of my house. 

The sight of someone wearing a white coat is enough to make my uncle faint. He spent much of his youth in the hospital undergoing hernia surgeries. In an equally powerful but opposite way, I have begun staging my surroundings with feedbacks that I want coming my way. Most people seem to stop with that nice refrigerator magnet.

That's very nice, but I'm leaning toward a larger dose of bad-ass (like my tulips). I'm not exactly playing the role of every defensive lineman littering his house with pictures of Tom Brady that say "Must Kill Quarterback", but I'm not far from that.

Subconscious messages also motivate me to keep my car, bedroom, and office clean even though I have no time or energy for that. Chaos stresses me. My goal is also to fill my world with lush overgrowth, warm light, kind people, fresh perspectives, abundance, clean energy, feelings of freedom, and of course, successful race results.

EVERYTHING = food
Drinking fresh squeezed OJ was one of my first and most important "messages" to feed myself. Not only is the juice the friggin delicious doge in itself, but the fact that I'm darn special enough for something my family only drank on Christmas morning-- that feeds me in another way--yeehaw! In fact, having cornucopias of tropical fruits all over our house actually helps feed the subconscious vacationy thoughts of joy, relaxation, and vitality-- way different than the messages that we tell our subconscious when we surround ourselves with hermetically sealed, processed, dehydrated, reconstituted, pork rindy niblets. Is that why we succumb to working in stale cubicles, wasting away in traffic, and then bliss-out with reality TV?

Trick3- EFT
My amazing aunt turned me on to Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT), with a forewarning that is was "out there". Of course, that piqued my interest. But since it is a combination of acupressure, conditional response building, positive-reinforcement, and mediation, now I almost consider it not out there enough. (Just kidding). It's simple, quick, and it works. And if it doesn't work, then the placebo effect helps. I've been doing it on my 1 hour commutes up to Dayton for my ankle and general workout recovery.

Trick4- FINI technique
In training, as in home construction, sometimes the insanity of lofty goals and excessive planning is too burdensome in itself. We can only take so much elevated consciousness. The FINI technique comes in handy when your brother-in-law asks, "Is this two-by-four level?" And you simply have to respond, "Fuck it. Nail it."

It also works with diet... when I'm on a date with my honey and I've been 100% raw all week, but they've got a killer veggie burger at Green Dog Cafe. For a second, I think to myself, "Should I ask for a big made-to-order concoction that's not on their menu and that they'll just turn into an underwhelming salad?" Sometimes the answer is simply "FINI" (as in, "get the darn veggie burger.") Stress, whether, chemical, emotional, physical, or even perceived, can be counter-productive to training.

World Cup champion skier, Bode Miller tried to live exclusively by this alternative approach. Drink beer, party hard, and ski fast. Even so, after Miller's disastrous showing at the Turino Olympics, where he admitted to skiing wasted, Miller changed his training regimen to include going to bed early and waking up early enough to always be the first skier on the slopes. In 2010, he won gold.

4/9/11 40k Time Trial Report

It was a very challenging work week, racking up thousands of miles in the car (Findlay, Toledo, Chicago, Dayton, Eaton). Yuck! I was forced to cut back on my training hours-- so I just chalked it up as a half-ass "taper." I was really looking forward to Saturday's 40k time trial on Route 8 in the beautiful Kentuck'--subjecting myself to the first real test of the year, the first real test post-ankle injury.

The results were educational, if nothing else. I was debating whether I'd ride a) my road bike recently sized for me, and then clip-on my aerobars or b) try Susie's Triathlon bike even though I've never ridden it and it's not sized for me.

Susie's Cervelo P2C tri bike

Chris' Fuji Profession road bike

I was really hoping to see the effect of my new road bike fitting, but since it's adjusted for road riding and not time trialing, attaching arbitrarily positioned aerobars would just kind of compromise both a true road position and a true TT position, not giving me meaningful data. The course being a brand new route was the final variable that convinced me that I should race with a clean slate-- on Susie's bike despite the ill-fit. I cashed in about a billion favors and she was nice enough to let me borrow her pimped-out Cervelo. My perineum would later decry my decision. (I wish I could let my weiner do a little more of the decision making.)

With all the travel this week, I fell off the raw food wagon somewhat. I've been averaging 80% raw since August. Lots of ups and downs, learning to get enough calories. Ripening fruit in stages truly takes artistic mastery, which I sucked at it this week, so I supplemented with a lot rice and beans and steamed veggies, and unfortunately a bit too much of the ol' "grain drain". When I got back into town Thursday night, it was like I struck gold on Christmas morning-- all my 'naners were ripened to perfection. So I approached my Friday diet as a bit of a cleanse--a partial layover in "Banana Island". It consisted in the following:

Breakfast1= 1 cantaloupe
Breakfast2= 15 banana smoothie with 1 Tbsp of raw almond butter and 1/2 handful of coconut
Lunch1=15 banana smoothie
Lunch2= 20 dates (world's best organic dates)
Snack= 2 bananas
Dinner= 6 banana + 1/2 lb of spinach smoothie
Snack= juice of 1 celery heart
Water consumption= 2.5 liters (not enough)
(38 bananas, baby!)

When I came home from Dayton on Friday evening, I went for a late swim, post-poning dinner till 10pm-- whoops. I also got to bed later than I wanted to, but I really wanted to spend some quality time with my lovely, whom I hadn't seen in days.

I set my alarm for 6:30am hoping to finish breakfast 3 hours before the 10am race; felt sugared-out by the late dinner and antsy because of reduced workouts this week, so I moved from the marital bed to the floor. "Okay, no problem. Roll with it, Chris."

4am, cats' butt holes in face trying to get me to feed them. 6:30am, ALARM...hit snooze. 7am, Susie tries to wake me up before she heads off to Studio S. 7:30am, I get up naturally, totally psyched up. Is it because I'm excited about ripe fruit for breakfast or for the first race of the season? It feels like a win-win! I had a dream Peter Wimberg catches pneumonia and the race field is suddenly wide open.

Step one-- did my #2 duty (earlier than normal). Then, drank a liter of water; blended 10 banana smoothie, hoping to finish it 2 hrs before the race begins. Pulled soaking dates out of the fridge and blended them into a frothy date-o-rade just in case I need a sugar rush during the ride. Did my #2 duty again (Normal time. Sorry to be so graphic, but any valuable race report of a raw-ish vegan needs to mention this). Went on the hunt for the appropriate race gear (shoe covers, odometer, bib shorts, tightest jersey I own). I'm forced to fold a mountain of laundry, delaying my breakfast. Dang! Put bike on carrier and drive to starting point in Ft. Thomas, KY, arriving one hour early (that's a first). Perfect time to register, schmooze, warm up and pee before the starting order is announced.

A few guys have arrived. "Are you the booky?" I ask the official-looking man with the clip board.
"I am."
"Then, my bet goes on Pete Wimberg," as the state champion looks on, perched atop his veiny calves of granite.
"Along with everyone else's bet, as usual."
"Yeah, well this time, I'm taking his ass DOWN," I kid with Pete. He chuckles. Clipboard man says he likes my spirit. (I swear, one day, I'm going to pass Pete while pedaling with one leg unclipped).

I tried to barter with Pete last year to have him coach me in exchange for an infrared inspection. It turns out, he's an ol' fashioned "cash-only man", so I am saving my pennies and look forward to the day when I can afford his services. He's the real deal. 

I estimate it will take me about 1:00:00 to ride the flat, rolling, out-and-back course, along the Ohio River. Based on this estimated finish time, the director has me starting 30th out of ~37 riders, mostly dudes. They release riders every 1 minute, so, I have over 30 minutes of additional warm up. While warming up, I can already tell that the angle of my hips is too close to my torso. I'm taking too much effort in my quads and not enough in my hamstrings. The seat post needs to come up, saddle needs to tilt down, and the aerobars/stem should be extended about an each forward so my elbows don't hit my knees. I don't make ANY adjustments, because I actually want to know what this geometry feels like over the long haul. Since Susie is being professionally fitted soon, she will have a digital record of this exact geometry and her new geometry, thanks to Brett at Element Cycles and his Retul fitting process.

My strategy is to ride the first 20k with my heart rate at 162 bpm. I don't have a power meter, but this HR is usually a really comfortable output for me, that I know leaves plenty of gas in the tank. Once I hit the turn-around point, I will aim for about 170 bpm. Start temp is about 55 degreesF which feels cool without a jacket but will make a for a PERFECT short sleeve racing temp...as long as it doesn't rain. While waiting in line, everyone is oogling each other's bikes and calves and butts. It's kinda funny. But it's really not a very good predictor of performance.

There are tons of potholes from such a rough, long winter. And I think that's just Kentucky. About 4 miles in the road it's newly paved and I get excited, so of course the HR goes up to 167 which is about 85% of my max HR. Even when the potholes return, I'm still going harder than is my plan. I decide to roll with it and just let it be an anaerobic day. Nevertheless, I feel way too fetal with my position.

About 15k in, my mouth is getting dry, so I take a swig of my celery juice. Stupidly, I mixed my date-o-rade with the celery juice in order to consolidate water bottles. No sense in riding with extra weight, right? Right as I take a sip, I get passed by my 1 minute man. Not like I'm standing still, but more slowly like a tease that has me wanting to pick up my pace and shadow him (no drafting allowed, of course). "Dont' do it, Chris. Race your race." I let him go, convinced that I will pass him on the return leg (which I don't). At 19k, my three minute man passes me! He's ridiculously fast. The sound of his disk wheels haunts me still. I haven't passed anyone even as I arrive at the turn-around. My neck is really sore and I feel I'm in a dangerously low position, such that I'm forced to stare almost directly down at the road, rather than up ahead toward the oncoming potholes.

I jump out of the saddle to recover my speed as I make the 180degree turn in the middle of the two-lane road. It feels good to relieve the butt muscles and stretch the calves. When I lift my neck up for the turn, I feel dizzy and make a mental note to adjust this position if I ever ride on this bike again. But I gotta GET GOING!

If there's anything left to give, this is where I HAVE to give it. My heart rate jumps higher. I'm north of 174 bpm the whole return leg. My quads are really feeling the burn and my right calf is starting to taunt me. I don't want them to cramp, so I make a conscious effort to focus the effort into my hammies, not let my HR drift upward on the up-hills (as I am prone to do), and get some celery juice in me--awesome electrolytes. Yeah... well... mixed with gewy dates it doesn't go down so smooth, and I ended up barfing a little at 30k. That's about where Pete Wimberg blows by me. He knows he's going to smash his course PR from last month by about 3 minutes. Then it starts to drizzle.

At :52:00, I stop enjoying the ride and can't wait for it to be over. Drizzle turns to outright rain and lightning. Having never ridden the course, and not being able to look up, I have no concept of how much remains. I'm doubting I'll be able to meet my 1:00:00 goal time. "Come on, Chris! Embrace the pain. Not much left. You can do this. Pass at least one darn guy." My left and right calves are cramping. My ass is sore in a place where I never get sore. If I go any harder in the legs, I will certainly cramp to the point where I'd have to fall off the bike and stretch. So, I drop to a lower gear and increase my cadence, trying to shift the burden to my heart, rather than the legs. It works! and I ride the last 5k at my fastest pace yet, but unfortunately, there's not enough course left for me to get that morale booster by passing someone...anyone. Another day, I guess.

As soon as I come out of my aero tuck, I'm overwhelmed with another wave of dizziness and my butt cramps hard. I almost crash. PHEW! I'm totally spent.

SUMMARY
Distance: 39.6kilometers (24.6 miles)
Time: 1:02:32
Average speed: 23.58 mph
Average HR: 170
Max HR: 185
Calories burnt: 833
Place: 16th overall 

LESSONS LEARNED
1) Ride my own bike and fit it for time trialing, erring on the side of being able to SEE THE ROAD
2) Don't drink celery juice with date-o-rade when I'm anaerobic
3) Eat dinner before 8pm and only snack after 9pm
4) Get to bed before 10pm and wake up at 6am in order to finish breakfast and not have it slosh around in belly

EPILOGUE
I didn't exactly get the results I was expecting, but I'm actually pretty proud of this performance given the pains with a bike that doesn't fit. Fitness wise, it felt good to visit the pain cave-- money in the bank. Tomorrow I ride 60-70 miles with my buddy Russ and can hopefully undo some of this butt cramping.

2011 Training Plan

The last several weeks have been extremely full. Good and full. Like belly of bananas. Therefore, just to get something out there in blogville, this week's blog will include a rough outline of the training plan I came up with for myself for the season. It heavily borrows from the brilliant work of coach Joe Friel. What a thorough and objective dude! (I highly recommend any of his books EXCEPT probably the one he co-authors about the dumb ass low-carb Paleo diet). Oh yeah-- and I've added several more olympic distance tris in June, July, and August. Nothing quite like real races to prepare you for real races, huh?

As with any plan, it's a work in progress and it is a clumsy attempt at getting Excel to calculate all my workouts for me based on the training theory of periodization. I want to hit a couple of fitness peaks at just the right time of year-- my A-level races. If anyone would like me to send them an Excel version of this training plan, feel free to send me an email.

Due to my ankle injury I had to eliminate all running for about the last month and I've upped my swim hours. While in the pool, I've had to swim with the buoy pinched between my ankle won't allow me to kick. It's really helped me adapt to a more proper arm stroke mechanics, BUT it's become a crutch on which the back half of my body is overly-depending.

My training buddy James took me swimming to his swanky pool this week and led a cool drill where he swam in front of me with fins and I tried to keep up in his wake. It was sick! Such a good workout and such a good simulation of swimming in a racedayclusterfcuk. As it turns out, the intense effort forced me to ditch the buoy and I had to kick full power. It hurt bad, but I think it helped break up the scar tissue in my ankle. The good news is that the ankle is feeling really good now and I got back on the treadmill--3 slow miles yesterday and 4 faster miles today. YEAH BABY! But no road running quite yet, though. :(