February Training Thoughts

I'm going to try something new on my little corner of the internet here. I'm going to use this space as my own personal training journal, and will try to keep up with an entry every Monday reviewing the past week's training as I prepare for the Swim Miami 10K, Daytona 100 Ultramarathon and the big goal, Ultraman Florida in 2018. This is sure to interest nobody, so I'll be writing in a way that is meant for me. Feel free to follow along, if you so desire.

For this first entry. I'm going to write down my thoughts for the entire month of February. It makes sense to look at the entire month because it comes off my failure at Skydive Ultra 100 at the end of January, and an entire month of heavy swimming focus with virtually no running and just a little time on the bike. So, let's look at February beginning with the swimming.

February Swimming

February was the biggest month of swimming in my life. I didn't have a real yardage target going into the month, but did want to try swimming every day of the month. I swam 27 of 29 days in February. My pool was closed on February 1st for chlorination treatment, so I'm comfortable missing that day. February 4th I also missed as I was stuck at the office for an unexpected late meeting. This miss hurts more. Overall, I'm quite happy with my February swim streak, however.

Total swim yardage measured by my Garmin for the month was 71,320 (or roughly 40.5 miles,) which does not include kick yardage and some drills amounting to perhaps another 10,000 yards over the month. That's about 40,000 more yards than my prior largest month in September 2015 as I finalized my Great Floridian Triathlon training. The finally three weeks of the month, I settled into about 20,000 yards per week which feels like a heavy, yet manageable, swim load for me.

I was able to sneak in one open water swim session on the final Friday of February with Boca Raton Triathletes. It's always a great time out there, and this one was particularly interesting as our swimming beach happened to also be the set for the filming of the new Baywatch movie. I even think I caught a glimpse of Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson filming an action scene running down the Boca Inlet jetty.

On the set of Baywatch. These are not actual lifeguard stands, but movie props.

How did I feel about all the yardage? Well, not surprisingly, there were many moments of fatigue in my shoulders and arms by the second week. There was one Masters swimming session when this became most apparent. We were swimming 150 yard pull sets. I'd feel great for 100 yards, and then it would feel like someone pulled the keys out of the ignition and I could just barely coast the final 50 yards. Just no power left at all.

That said, I feel like this massive (for me) amount of swimming has been tremendously beneficial. I spent several days working on balance in the water and body position, and think that has improved a bit. My swim fitness is definitely better. And, perhaps most importantly, I've had several "ah ha" moments over the past couple weeks when I finally felt like I understood what the catch and pull was supposed to feel like. They were brief moments, generally no more than 100-200 yards. But I think it's a significant sign that something is starting to connect.

February's swim training culminated with a 5,000 yard pull endurance swim on February 28th. I felt comfortable and smooth throughout despite fatigue and finished in 1:21:19. It was a nice, steady swim with only 20 seconds difference between the fast and slowest 1,000 yard "laps." Now, to double that distance in the next 40 days.

For March, I intend on trying to maintain the 20,000 yards per week target, but doing so in 5 days of swimming  per week instead of 7 days. The first week of March, I'm resting a bit from the swim as I reintroduce running into my schedule. But by the second week, I hope to be back at 20,000 yards.

February Running

February was all about rest and recovery for running. I ran the Ancient Oaks 100 Mile Ultramarathon in mid-December. I tried to run the 100 miler at Skydive Ultra at the end of January...a big, fat fail. February was to include very little running, a bit of walking and mostly just letting sore joints and ligaments heal.

I succeeded in my goal. I didn't walk or run for the first two weeks. On February 14th, I completed my first measured walk at pace. Then I ran four times easily for 30 minutes between the 14th and the 29th. Nothing intense. Nothing of length. Just real easy recovery runs.

As I head into March, I plan to try an entirely new running plan. I'm going to run more frequently, six days per week, but for shorter distances. And I'm going to do something new for me, speed work. The plan is three bona fide recovery runs per week, two runs with intensity (Tuesday Fartleks, Thursday tempo), and one sorta long run. I'll do this for a few months until I want my training to become more specific and long in preparation for Daytona 100.

February Biking

I haven't been biking since the Great Floridian. Maybe 10 hours total in the saddle in the past four months. February's goal was to reestablish a habit of biking, nothing more. I kind of succeeded.

I have formed a good habit of jumping on the bike trainer every Tuesday and Thursday after my kids finish their swim team training and before they head to bed. These have been short and easy sessions, 30 minutes to an hour, with the sole purpose of getting back on the bike. I wasn't perfect about hitting these sessions in February, but did do them much more often than not. I plan to continue this into March.

I also compelled myself to join a Sunday longer group ride twice in February. Nothing super long (40 and 60 miles), but again getting back on the bike regularly. I also don't need a ton of length with no Ironman planned in 2016. I do need to keep building bike fitness and comfort as I look to Ultraman in 2018.

However, February wasn't a complete success with biking. I had hoped to start bike commuting to work once or twice per week, 20 miles each way. I haven't done it. I haven't even brought the bike I want to use for that to Tune Cycles to get it ready. I think I'd enjoy this commuting, but I'm also quite concerned about car traffic. I've just seen too many stories about people (including some I know) getting hit by cars behaving stupidly. I'm still struggling with how to proceed on this idea.

Beautiful sunrises help make the bike more bearable

But, overall, I'll take it. I'm back on the bike with some regularity. The joy for biking isn't there (perhaps a symptom of trainer riding) and it feels like a chore. Hopefully, with some more time in the saddle, that changes.

February In Review

Overall, I think February training went quite well. I'm feeling recovered from overdoing the running exploits, I'm back on the bike a little and I've made a ton of progress with swimming. Swimming the 10K at Swim Miami feels far more doable than it did a month ago. Another month of good yardage should really help out. I'll be slow, but I'll probably make it to the finish.

February was a success...on to March. More swimming, and the sweet return of running!

Anatomy of a DNF

When you're out to push your limits, eventually those limits will smack you in the face.

This weekend I participated in the Skydive Ultra 100 mile ultramarathon. I didn't finish. I didn't even get close. It was pretty much a disaster. And I should have seen it coming.

Since I completed my first 100 mile ultramarathon at Ancient Oaks six weeks ago, I had done very little training. This was intentional. I had gotten pretty beat up at Ancient Oaks and tried to take lots of time to recover. Very little running. Not much intensity. But lots of time swimming and some biking to keep up fitness.

Race Preparation

I had been running some, however. My biggest difficulty at Ancient Oaks was blisters on the balls of my feet. As I prepared for Skydive Ultra, I focused on figuring out that blister issue. I read Fixing Your Feet and spoke with blister experts. On several of my training runs, I tested taping techniques, ENGO patches and different socks. I felt good about the blister situation. I felt like I had a handle on it.

I also put in just a couple hard runs to see how recovery was going, to see how my body was feeling. These runs included some intensity, but were kept short...under seven miles. I completed a couple long-ish runs, but without intensity. While I felt some creaking joints and discomfort on some of those runs, I always came away thinking I was recovering well and ready for Skydive Ultra.

The DNF

I always knew there was a chance things wouldn't go well at Skydive. Right after Ancient Oaks, I thought about dropping out of the race. I had gotten pretty beat up during that first hundred. During the first couple weeks of recovery, I thought about moving to the 50 mile race. But eventually, I felt like I was in a place to take a shot at 100 miles and didn't seriously consider that I'd DNF.

The race began great. Skydive Ultra had a new course this year, a 7.25 mile loop. I was committed to not making the mistake I made at Ancient Oaks, going out way too fast. The first loop felt great. My pace was perfect, I felt strong, I was running right at the pace I wanted and it felt absolutely effortless. My feet felt great and taping technique seemed like it would really do well. I had zero inclination of what was about to come.

Lap two started like the first, strong and feeling great. However, about 1 mile in, my left knee began to hurt...a lot! And the pain was increasing rapidly. Within another mile, the pain was so significant that I couldn't run any longer. But I could walk. And I could walk fast, 12 to 13 minute miles. Walking was completely pain-free and, in fact, the faster and harder I walked, the better my knee felt. I began considering my options: drop out of the race since I couldn't run or keep walking and see if I can finish the race that way. I kept walking. I finished my second lap, then my third, then my fourth and the pace kept up. The knee was getting sore even when walking, but I could keep moving well.

That all ended on the fifth lap. My pace slowed and the knee became very painful even when walking very casually. A 16 minute mile, then an 18 minute mile, then a 21 minute mile; all at intensity and pain levels similar to the 13 minute miles in the previous laps. The writing was on the wall. I could keep moving, and it was fast enough to finish under the race cut-off. But it was utter misery. I took a break at the mid-loop aid station and considered dropping out there, then decided that I'd at least finish my lap. I could barely move as I began walking again until my knee loosened up. Then more 18 to 20 minute miles. I eventually arrived at the end of the loop and decided to take 30 minutes before dropping out to really consider that decision.

30 minutes later and only 36 miles into my race and I dropped. My first DNF.

And I should have seen it coming.

"Sore Left Knee..."

In retrospect, it was so plainly obvious I wasn't ready for this race. I simply didn't listen to my body. This is exemplified by one training run and my Strava entry for that run. 16 days before the race, I went out for a higher intensity run to see how I was feeling.

The title for my run says it all:

There it is, plain as day. My "are you broken test" reveals a sore left knee, yet I wrote it off as nothing. That sore knee should have been the big blinking red light telling me to reconsider racing. I missed it. I probably would have missed it had it hit me in the face.

The DNF was predictable if only I had been paying attention.

What's Next

So, I've been taught an important lesson (well, actually several, but I'll save those for another day.) That lesson, listen to my body! If I go for a test run and something doesn't feel right, listen to that signal. That's the first "next" for me. I'm going to become much better at paying attention.

But what else? This DNF is going to be fire. My next 100 mile race, I'm going to really prepare instead of winging it. I've got blisters figured out. I feel good about nutrition. Next I'm going to pick a race and follow a serious periodized training plan. And I'm going to nail the darn thing. I'm thinking Daytona 100 in December might be perfect.

But first, I plan to take a couple months off running to really allow my body to heal and to learn how to swim well, finishing with a 5K or 10K swim at Swim Miami. Then it will be time to focus on nailing a 100 miler.

Until then, you'll find this sticker on the back of my car. A little reminder to keep that fire lit.

Ancient Oaks 100 Ultramarathon - Lessons and Such

2015 ended with a bang for me on the fitness front. The Tuesday of race week, I received an invitation to Ancient Oaks 100 Mile Ultramarathon. Mental and physically unprepared, deep in training and untapered, no crew or pacers lined up and without equipment and nutrition nailed down, of course I accepted the invitation for my first attempt at the 100 mile distance. A completely irrational and possibly irresponsible decision.

I had heard so much about this race, about how special it was, I simply couldn't pass up the chance to run it. Plus, while I wasn't specifically trained to run 100 miles, I did still have ironman fitness and was four weeks into a 100 mile race training block. I wasn't completely unprepared.

That's a forced smile...I hurt

As I did early in the year with the DTR Endurance Challenge 50K, I'm going to write about the lessons from this race instead of a formal race report. But first, I have to send out a special thank you to a person who I credit almost 100% with my finishing. I arrived at the race with no crew and no pacer. Becky La Baron simply adopted me at around mile 48 and paced me nearly the entire way to the finish.

1. 100 miles is serious business, fitness alone won't cut it. - I'm fit. Probably as fit as I've ever been in my life. I thought that would be enough to carry me through 100 miles. And the reality is, my fitness was strong enough for the distance. I ran well for the first 50 miles, and then fell apart due to a variety of other reasons not fitness related. Poor nutritional choices, blisters (my god, the blisters!), bad pacing and no game plan, mental unpreparedness all came back to haunt me in the race. My preparation was basically to throw everything I could think of in the back of my car, every pair of running shoes and socks and clothes and food, and just keep trying stuff throughout the race. Kinda the kitchen sink approach...not a great plan. If I ever decide to run 100 miles again, I'll focus at least as much on the non-fitness things as I will on the fitness. 100 miles is serious business. Lackadaisical attitude isn't going to cut it.
2. Racing on a whim ain't the smartest idea - So, I said above I'm fit. Sure, it's true. But I wasn't 100 mile run fit. I had raced the Great Floridian Triathlon less then two months ago, and carried that fitness with me. I was just four weeks into building for my first 100 mile attempt at Skydive Ultra at the end of January. I didn't have ultramarathon-specific fitness despite being pretty fit. Second, since I only received my invitation four days in advance of the race, I hadn't tapered. In fact, the Friday/Saturday/Sunday before the race, I had put in serious run mileage as a part of my Skydive Ultra training. So, not only not tapered, but I was actually pretty heavily fatigued going into the race. At shorter distances, general fitness might be sufficient and not being tapered might be manageable. At 100 miles, those things just accumulated to conspire against me.
3. Going out too fast really can destroy a race. - I went to Ancient Oaks with no expectations. I didn't expect to finish, but kinda hoped I could. I didn't have any expectations for pace or finishing time. I decided to go so late that I simply arrived free of expectations. And when I began running, I found the trail to be so much fun that I hammered the pace for about three laps (~10 miles.) It was just too beautiful and fun and without expectations I could do whatever I wanted. I knew it would come back to haunt me later in the race, but didn't really know if I'd ever make it to later in the race...no expectations. Well, that 10 mile block took me about 1 hour and 40 minutes to finish. I completed the first 33 miles of the race in 7 hours. And then proceeded to slow down dramatically, requiring another almost 23 hours to finish the next 67 miles. I went from running sub 9 minute miles to crawling along at 19 minute miles. So that whole "don't go out to fast" thing...yeah, that's really a thing. Lesson learned.
4. Motivation to continue comes from weird places - I didn't arrive at Ancient Oaks with a steely-eyed resolve to finish. I was prepared to DNF and simply view the race as a training run for Skydive Ultra. But I finished. And motivation to continue despite a strong desire to quit came from some very unlikely places. One motivation was the continued nudges from Becky. She wasn't letting me quit. Plus, by mile 80 or so, after Becky had herself put in 30+ miles pacing me to a finish, I began to feel guilty even considering quitting. She had sacrificed tremendously to help get me that far. I owed it to her to finish. Another place I drew motivation from was the race itself. Ancient Oaks is a bit unusual. The race is held on an ancient nature sanctuary and the people who run the sanctuary are very protective of it. So, the race stays small and cannot be a commercial venture. The race has no entry fee and only about 60 people get to race each year. I felt that, having accepted my invitation, I owed it to race director Mike Melton and to anyone who didn't get to participate because I accepted the invitation to finish. There were lots of other little moments of motivation (e.g. I hated the idea of quitting, finishing 2015 with a hundo would be cool, etc...) along the way, but these were the two unexpected biggies. I never expected to feel like I owed others the finish, but that sense of owing became the ultimate motivator.
5. Fixing my feet - I have a huge problem to figure out before I ever consider race a 100 miles again, my feet. I knew going in my feet would hurt tremendously. I knew my toes would eventually be miserable, they hurt even during longish training runs, and I'd likely lose several toe nails. I did not expect to have dramatic problems with blistering. Blisters are simply never an issue for me. The race was a completely different story. My feet hurt as expected, but I never had toe issues. I won't be losing toe nails and don't even have a black toe. But the blisters...oh the blisters. The sole of my right foot had a blister about the size of a tennis ball. My left foot had a matching, albeit slightly smaller, blister. And there were another dozen or so smaller blisters covering my feet. I'm frankly stunned that I was able to finish the race with these blisters. There were points late in the race I knew there was an issue, but I decided to simply continue and not remove my shoes for a look. Had I looked, that might have been the end of my race. If I ever hope to have a better 100 mile race, I need to figure this issue out. Was it a one-off due to lack of preparation? Perhaps. It's time to go to work on it.

There were tons of smaller lessons along the way, but these were the five biggies. #1 is perhaps the least and most surprising. I expected 100 miles to be difficult, but I really had no concept of what a different beast it is compared to any other race distance. There is simply no comparison.

A Few Word on The Enchanted Forest

Me, on a tree, feeling crappy

I can't end this sort of race report without a few words on the really spectacular setting for the race. The Ancient Oaks 100 is held in The Enchanted Forest Sanctuary in Brevard County. The trail was a roughly 3.5 mile long mix of sand, single track trail and wooden path. And it was spectacular. The oak trees were stunningly large and old (likely the reason for the race name.) One section ran through a tunnel of 15 foot tall saw palmettos. At night, hogs could be heard rooting and snorting in the bush. It was like stepping back in time. It was truly magical at times. 

Despite what was a tremendously difficult race, I'm so glad to have gone. The race was spectacular, the people involved were incredible (thank goodness for the wonderful volunteers...heroes!), the huge contingent of spectators who came just to hang out with us were constantly motivating, and the sanctuary was stunning. Finishing the 100 miles may be the least exciting part of all the positive at this race.

I'll finish with one final lesson. It's a lesson learned at this race again, but really throughout 2015. Impossible is an excuse. 18 months ago, I would have told you with absolute certainty that it would be impossible for me to finish a 50 mile ultramarathon or an ironman-distance triathlon or a 100 mile ultramarathon. Within 11 months, I've completed all three. Yes, of course, there are genuinely impossible things. I can't turn into a shark or jump to the moon. But by and large, impossible is an excuse to not try the epic.