Recently in Swim Category

After I realized my aquathon runs were hurting because of my lack of swimming, I got back into the pool this morning to crank out some yards.

I decided that I would measure my fitness by swimming 3 x 300s at a strong effort with lots of rest. Each 300 is to be just hard enough that you're spent at the end, but you maintain even splits for each swim. If the final one is much slower than the first (>5-7 secs.) you went out too hard. Lots of coaches use this to establish a base pace from which to set efforts/pace from for other sets. With consistent swimming and regular efforts, you should see improvements when you repeat this every month.

I hadn't tested myself like this in a wicked long time. After warming-up (which didn't go well, BTW) I was mentally set to be about 15 sec per 300 (or 5 sec per 100) slower than off peak pace. However, I finished the first one only 10 sec off my peak. I instantly knew the last one is going to be painful. Surprisingly I finished the second at the same pace and had hopeful thoughts for the third. But alas, after 75 of my first 100, I decided to break the swim up at the 100s and take 5 sec rest between each one. Just enough to catch my breath, but not enough to recover. The extra 5 seconds may not seem like much, but it makes a big difference. I was able to keep the same pace across all three 100s and again finish at the same total time for the 300 (taking out the extra 10 seconds of rest) as the other two.

It hurt, but I might not be as out of shape as initially thought. Usually, my swim fitness is the first to bounce back after a lay off (furlough?), so hopefully we'll see some improvement by the next aquathon. Also, I can't recall how I found this, but I'm going to use Swimplan.com to help provide some sets and get me out of my rut of the four or five that I regularly do. Seems like a spiffy, free(!) service.

All of us in the upper Midwest are waiting for summer to arrive. We get hints of 80 degree days now and then, but nothing has stuck thus far. This was more than evident in the water temperature of Lake Mendota on Thursday evening. For the first race in Fleet Feet Madison's Aquathon series, the City of Madison declared the water temp at 62°F. Yikes. To warm up (if you could call it that) I waded in and took my time getting used to the water. It was cold and hard to maintain a smooth stroke. I just had to remember that everyone would be going through the same thing.

SWIM
Lots of young'ns from the UW were there racing as a team, so there were plenty of us by the first buoy. Also, I need to figure out how to get a black line on the bottom of the lake because I couldn't swim in a straight line at all. The cold water forced me to breath every stroke, and with it, I kept veering right. WAY right. By the second and last turn, there were only three of us. And on the way in, only two. I never felt warm on the swim and my muscle tightness reflected it. I missed the $50 gift card by a few seconds, but was happy just getting out of the water second overall.

T1
I nearly toppled over in transition from dizziness. It was extra difficult putting socks and shoes on really cold feet.

RUN
Out on the run, there must have been a nicely sized group behind me, because I was passed relatively quickly by about five people. But, they weren't pulling away as fast as they have in the past -- a good sign. I held my pace, keeping it as steady as possible, as I tend to let the mind wander and my pace slows. It was hard to do with numb legs for the first mile or so. Up and over the final hill, I gunned it for the finish, keeping my promise to myself to not let anyone pass me on the finishing straight.

Final numbers:
1K Swim: 11:47 - 2nd Overall
5K Run: 22:48 - Aquathon split PR!
Total: 35:23 - 11th Overall (2nd in AG)

RACE DAY
A quick check of the weather and revealed a small 72 in the lower right corner. Could that be right? 72 degrees at 5 AM? Ouch. Stepping outside to load up the van, the humidity slapped me in the face. I had instant flashbacks to my 2005 Ironman in Wisconsin. Only I didn't have a full summer of heat acclimation on which to rely. Instead, I had a full winter of riding in my 45-degree basement with only a fan to provide a light breeze and all runs completed in sub-freezing temps and windchills.

Transition was a buzz from the get go. I set up my stuff, found Chris and we set off to the shuttle bus. Ah, make that we set off for the swim start on foot, mine bare, as the shuttle lines were a bit crowded and likely not going to get us there before our wave started. My over anxious self was ready to go with the PROs, but I settled in to wait for my wave. Luckily I didn't have to wait too long. My age group was the first to go, and I was in the second of two, fourth on the day. As usual, I found a spot near the front, and settled in. The water was calm and I breathed deep. The ten second warning was announced and then I was off.

One of my favorite distance sets is to increase your distances to a max and then work your way back down. It kind of looks like this:

Last night, I did this set, working the 300s & 500s hard, and maintaining a steady, moderate effort on the 400s & 600, while warming up and cooling down the 200s, respectively. Nothing too earth shattering, but I did like the results of the two 500s. With one week left before the Alumni meet and my annual swimming of the 500 against the JV, I was psyched to see some OK times. Because of the mountain, I didn't go my hardest, but I did concentrate on form and kicking. That lead to two 6:08s, which is just over 1:13 per 100. And then on the second 300, I went a 3:35, slightly slower than my T-pace average of 3:32, but again, I wasn't going all out and it was after 3000 other yards. This means I should hopefully be able to go under 5:40 next week, which is the main goal.

In other disciplines, Coach Will Smith has been keeping the bike training lively with all sorts of intervals, big gears, high rpms (120!), and long, grind it out type rides. I've been working my way through season 2 of The Wire for the shorter rides and look towards other action movies for longer rides. This weekend it's Hancock. I'm totally getting my money's worth in Netflix.

Running has been easier, but that's on purpose. The first few runs after the marathon were quite surprisingly grueling. Yet another reminder at just how tough a marathon is. So we started slow and short to get used to running again. I've worked myself up back to where I think I need to be. In fact, just this past Sunday, I covered 8.2 miles in 1:09. The best part is that my perceived level of effort matches years past, but the actually pace is faster. I owe all of that to the marathon training.

I should be getting my next training plan from Coach Will any day now, which will start my formal training for Ironman New Orleans 70.3. I can't wait to see what type of pain he has in store. Bring it!

This morning I did a bunch of broken swims. A broken swim is usually on fast swims where rest is provided within the given distance in order to maintain a higher effort. There's no getting around it; these sets hurt. But they're a necessary evil so I swim them anyway. Here's what I came up with:

• Warm up. Be sure to include some kicking as you will use your legs extensively to swim fast.
• 6 x 100 FAST, broken like this: 50 - rest 10 sec - 25 - 5 sec - 25. I rested for about 1:15 between each one.
• 6 x 50 DiSP for recovery
• 6 x 75 FAST, broken like this: 50 - rest 10 sec - 25
• 4 x 50 DiSP recovery
• 6 x50 broken like this: 25 - 5 s - 25
• Warm down

Feel free to drop the six repetitions to a number that more closely matches your fitness level/swimming strength.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to get to the broken 50s. I would've like to get through it all, but alas one must work to be able to pay to have fun like this. I'll come back to it in a couple of weeks.

After aquathon #3 was delayed twice due to blue-green algae blooms, aquathon #4 was upon us. My legs are tired from marathon training. The hamstrings are tight, my calf is on the verge of cramping, and my shins are a touch on the sore side. I notice Mark Harms, local triathlete extraordinaire, and instantly everyone's gunning for second. "At least I can draft off him (in the swim)," I say to myself.

SWIM
Right off the bat, and I'm behind. After a few lunges and it's me & Mark. Then it's just me. Then it's Mark & me again. Then just me. Mark was all over the place, hardly keeping a straight line. Oh well. I'll just swim by myself. I concentrate on my stroke as I tend to drop my head. Long strokes...breathe right once in a while...keep the head up...sight for the buoy..."Why isn't it getting closer?"...long strokes...so on and so forth. The wind carried the second buoy off course to make the course a touch long, and I notice (with my picked up head) the bubbles in front of me. I surge a bit to latch on Mark's wake and actually catch a draft to the turn. Then, he's gone. Way to the right. Sigh. I make my way to the transition and let some thoughts creep into my head that perhaps I'm in front? Nope. Mark comes in from the right and nips me by a few seconds.

RUN
Mark is out of transition first and I'm not too far behind. And then he's gone again. Not to the right, but right off the front. After the first turn, I couldn't see him. I commented to the volunteer at the turn, "Man, he's fast!" And she replied that he beat her to her spot. I was induced by his speed and went out too fast. At the first mile, it felt like I should be at the 2.5 mile mark. I blame the marathon training, but not necessarily unhappy with it. I laid back for the next mile, and then tried to build up the final mile. Coming down the final hill into finishing stretch, two guys pass me, but encourage me to finish with them. I pick it up, so do they. I hold my pace, they pull ahead. I finish just behind, collapsing to my knees on the timing mats.

Overall, not too bad given the lack of non-running training and crazy life this summer.Everyone concluded that the swim course was long. It was about a minute longer for me, so I was right at a PR if you take a minute off. I've got two more months before the marathon and hopefully can get all the house projects done by then.

Just a quick report on my second aquathon of the season.

There was a challenge issued among the local tri clubs to see who could get the most racers and the best times or something, so there were about 20 extra people there than normal. And it seemed they were all fast.

My main swim competitor, Brian, was there again. He and I led out the swim, but neither of us could hold a straight line. I tend to drop my head, and I think that pulls me off course. Halfway out the first leg of the 1000m triangle, I felt a surprise little tickle on my feet. "They'll drop away after the first turn," I thought. The turn came and went, and Brian and I are still side by side leading the race. There were still some tickles on my toes. Around the third buoy and headed for home, Brian and I zig-zag and occasionally run into each other. (I thought it was me, but after we confirmed it was the both of us.) Brian must've gotten caught in some waves, because I was able to open a small gap. Out of the water I crossed the timing mat first. As fun as it is to race the swim, I put forth a significant effort.

Brian passed me in transition. (I still have to mess with socks -- gotta break that habit.) I was out #2 and must've left the target on my back. I was passed up the first hill by the top female, and then by the next two guys down the hill. I kept running my race, got passed a few more times, but only once from the turn-around back in. I was actually able to hold off a group of four that were about 20 seconds behind me. (Small victories.) I need to learn how to run fast one of these years. The finish absolutely sucks on this course. You go up the hill, immediately down, and then turn to finish. There's no opportunity to recover after the hill (about the last half-mile.) I was actually yelling to myself to finish. My family scolded me for not acknowledging them down the finish chute, but I was too spent to do anything but make it across the line.

Official finish data:
overall place: 11 out of 92
time: 35:44
swim: 11:24
rate: 1:09/100m
trans: 0:38
run: 23:43
pace: 7:38/mi

I lead my age group for the overall series thus far.

I hesitated on which way to go home. Right meant going to the pool. Left meant going home and sulking on the couch.

Work ended rather poorly. I was busy all day and then I discovered a small goof with major implications. You know that part in Office Space when Michael Bolton ("Which song is your favorite?") realizes that he messed up on something small, like a decimal point or something, which causes a $300K glitch? Yeah, that's how I felt. Totally my fault. I'm just lucky someone else discovered it. I have to make some calls tomorrow to see what the impacts are on a multi-million dollar project. I already made a call on the other multi-million dollar project.

So I turned right. Perhaps I can pound out the issues in the water. I hop in and start out with 4x100, 4x200, 4x300, building each one so that the first 100 is the easiest and my last 300 is my best effort. Somewhere in the middle of the 200s, I randomly think of a kid swimming, and he visualizes that he is a car engine. (I have no idea how I got there) And as an engine, he finds another gear an surprises his coaches with his performance. Turns out, the thought carries through to my swimming, and I start concentrating on my form and start to churn out some swims.

I start out the 300s with a 4:21. Not too bad. I increase the effort for #2 and surprise myself with a 4:18. I continue building through #3, really thinking about long, smooth strokes, crisp catches and full pulls and post a 4:12. Now it's starting to get fun. The pool closes at 7:00. It's 6:55 when I start #4 and didn't realize that I'm the only one in the water. I push off and start to feel the fatigue building in my arms at the 150.

"Pain is good. Pain is weakness leaving the body. Concentrate on your form. Pull. Pull harder."

I flip at the 200 and notice I'm at 2:40. That leaves 1:20 to go 4 minutes even. I let everything go for the last two lengths and concentrate on my bestest form. At 10 meters to go, I look for the pace clock to gauge my finish time. I look and look. I expect to see 3:57...3:58...3:59, but there's nothing. It's blank. The lifeguards turned off the clock. I slam my last two strokes and finish. Exacerbated, I call out, "Where's the clock?! I was using the clock?" not expecting anyone to reply. I started to warm down, got whistled at by the lifeguard, and pleaded to finish one half length as a warm down. I climbed out of the pool just as the clock turned 7 PM. Fuck.

I was steamed. Knowing the time from that one swim really could've turned my day around. Instead, I came home and sulked on the couch. At least I got my workout in.

Winter's final grasp
After a record-breaking winter season of snow, spring and summer have had difficulty establishing consistent temperatures and conditions. Just this past Monday, it was 82. The following day, it was 55. We're three weeks away from the official start of summer and I haven't even taken the cover off the air conditioner. Thus, the long, drawn-out winter hasn't given enough time to warm the lakes. I asked the lady marking me if the lake was cold. She hesitated a long while before replying with a drawn out "wellll..." I asked if it was above or below 60°. I got no reply. Yikes!

I readied my transition area and went on a warm-up run. The ankle showed no ill affects, so I tested it with some successful strides; all was good on the running front. Next up: the lake. I squeezed into my wetsuit and went to the water's edge. Then I couldn't feel my feet. Actually, it wasn't that bad, but it was cold to be sure. The first few face plants in the water definitely took your breath away, but after a few minutes, you got used to it.

Since I'm more under-trained than I'd like to be, the strategy was to get on someone's feet for the swim and run my own pace & race. Nice and easy, just survive the day to get ready for the next one.

SWIM
The gun went off and we're off. There were two PRO* guys right in front of me. What better feet to draft off than a couple of PROs? Turns out, one's pretty damn fast, and the other can't hold his line very well. I'm on his feet one stroke, the next he's three feet to the right. Then he's right in front of me, the next, he's on my left, pushing both of us right. I let him go and resign to a long slow swim by myself until a catch an orange cap streaking up the left side. NICE! I'm on his feet until we turn around the first buoy when he stops dead in the water. I nearly scaled his back and swam over him but thought better of it and skirted around. I'm left to my own thoughts now, trying to keep my strokes long, even, and smooth. The cold moved beyond the exposed skin and is now sinking into my muscles. My triceps are heavy and stiff. I can feel the tension building with every stroke. All the more reason to keep things long. I try breathing to my off-side (right) for a while and catch myself drifting off-line. I continue zig-zagging the course chasing what I think are the two PROs in front of me, but I see nothing. I swim into the shore as far as possible until I grab clumps of sand instead of all water. Getting up is a challenge until the warm blood returns to the legs. Transition is empty save for the top PRO. Second out of the water? Really? That's a nice surprise. At my stuff, my hands are like clubs as I fiddle with wetsuit and try to put on socks and shoes. The other PROs arrive while I'm leaving for the run.

RUN
Everything about me is cold right now. My feet are anvils swinging from frayed ropes. I have no control over anything, but somehow I manage forward progress. It feels real funny. My fingers aren't really moving. My triceps are stiff and sore. And then a gull shits on my head. Then another. And another until I realize it's starting to rain. Fun! I settle into a nice pace. The other two PROs pass me before the first hill, which I climbed with surprising ease, probably because I couldn't really feel the pain. Back down the hill and around the path, I didn't get passed by the PRO woman until just before the turnaround. Now getting a first look at what was coming up my backside, I thought a few more could catch me. But I never heard footsteps. Up and down the final hill, I powered down the long straightaway that leads to the finish. It was now raining at a fine clip and I finally felt my fingers move. I held off a late charge to maintain fifth place overall.

I felt no feedback from my ankle, Achilles or calf, which is promising for the upcoming marathon training. And I also got a $15 gift certificate to Quaker Steak and Lube for my 2nd place swim.

1K SWIM: 12:01 (1:13/100m) 2nd/74
5K Run: 23:09 (7:28/mi) 28th/74
Total: 35:59 5th/74

What's shocking is that when comparing the times above to last year's performances, I'm right there. I swam slightly slower, but that's expected given the solo effort and cold water. But my run split was the fastest ever! At this point, I don't know if it's a fluke or a sign of things to come. We'll see what happens next time with a warmer lake.

*PRO to me means really, really fast. Plus, I heard them discussing other races and whether they'd be racing as PROs there.

Running is back on track. I had my final appointment with Jenny, the Super PT. The ankle is progressing nicely. Just a few more weeks of some jumping exercises and I'm as good as before. (If I said 'good as new,' I'd be a baby, and that's too young for triathlons.)

I finished my first run without a walk break this morning. At just over three miles, I'm confident I can get through the 5K at the aquathon next week. That is if I finish the swim.

Which brings me to Friday's workout where I thought things were good, but the clock said otherwise. I continuously came in about three seconds slower per 100 than I felt, so it was a bit discouraging. But tonight, tired after the weekend and this morning's run, was swimming long course 100s within 5 seconds of the short course yards on Friday. And doing it consistently. If I pace myself, I've got a fighting chance of finishing.