Strategy, tactics and reality

"The USA National Triathlon Championships". Its got a good ring to it, hasn't it? I'm obviously really pleased to have got there, and it's taken me a few goes to do it, but that's in the bank now. Now, I have to do well. I remember the words from Rich's blog at the 2012 European Championships, where I'd set myself a goal of getting a medal. Rich said that when I set a goal its hard, but achievable. That mostly, other people don't originally get it, or believe it, but that I am realistic enough to set a goal that I can achieve, even if its a stretch - sometimes a big stretch. Well, "Escape" was a big stretch. I knew I was weak at the swim, which is essentially the whole point of "Escape", so setting myself a top ten target was a big ask. I also knew that it was within my grasp if a lot of things went well, and if I did that I would get my qualification It was, I did, and I got it. Right, so now I have to figure out the Nationals. First problem? My physical condition - my form. I planned to be at peak for "Escape" so now I'm going over the top and into a relative decline. I haven't got time to dip and come back, but it's really too long to stay on peak, so I'm betwixt and between.
My first attempt at shaking things up went badly wrong (see: "too many variables") and caused me to re-evaluate my position. It seems that top ten is way off. My personal best would get me 34th spot based on last year's times. I went to see my pals at the local bike shop for some advice. I've got my fast wheels - the Zipps - which I use on a flat course like Wisconsin is going to be, but I usually use Gatorskin tyres and heavy tubes, and I carry repair equipment. This is so that if I have a minor issue such as a flat I can keep going, but I was asking the guys about a high-risk approach. I have some lightweight tyres with a slick tread, and some lightweight tubes. What if I was to go for a "shit-or-bust" approach and have no contingency for problems? Well, the response was pretty well what I could have worked out for myself: "how would you feel if you DNF?" I'm getting one chance at this, so clearly, a DNF (Did Not Finish) isn't what I want history to record. In any case, as the course is flat, weight-savings aren't that important.
OK, so no easy ways to speed there then. As far as training is concerned, I think I've already proven that I haven't got an answer. Race strategy may help, but it isn't going to give me 10 minutes. Aside from cheating and drugs, I can't see any way to do it. Even doping on an Armstrong scale probably doesn't give you that sort of margin!
I hate to admit this, but I might just have to go as a "makeweight". Not contending. Not hoping for a podium. Not hoping for a top ten. This is not territory I like. I haven't done an event simply for the enjoyment of it for some time. Once again I am a man without a mission. "Satisfied" with a good performance isn't really anything I want to contemplate. A PB might do it, though? Hmmmm....

Too many variables

I had a shocker of a run today, the worst I can remember, with the possible exception of the run leg of the 2010 Wilmslow Triathlon where I had a nightmare resulting in me missing my target time at the very start of my (then secret) mission to represent GB. I never figured out why that happened, but I'm glad to say I haven't repeated that dreadful experience - until today.

The plan was good: a 37 mile fast bike with the Bay Club boys, followed by a 7 mile run to complete a great training brick session. Since "Escape", where I qualified for the USA Nationals, I've adopted a few new approaches in an attempt to get a bit of a kicker so that I don't disgrace myself amongst USA's finest. I've had approval from British Triathlon that I can wear my GB Trisuit, so there will be no place to hide on 8th August in Wisconsin. I might as well draw a target on my back! I've been having a lot of vegan food recently and for the last two weeks have been completely vegan. This means everything is plant-based, and it is supposed to enable you get the maximum nutritional value from the food and none of the side effects of animal-based or processed foods. This means, in theory, that your body utilises the nutrition better and for me I hoped for a slight reduction in weight, a better performance on the bike and run in particular, and better recovery that would enable harder training. I'd planned for a hard 6 week training block before tapering for the event. You don't need to ask - I want top ten at least, so I needed this kicker. The other initiatives I've done include a slightly different combination of training sessions with a different balance of intensity - powered, of course, by the vegan food. So last week I incorporated a full triathlon effort in the evening after work and was delighted with my performance. I was, though, a bit concerned that I didn't feel fully recovered by today.

Nevertheless, the bike ride was good - perhaps too good.  Paradise Loop is my favourite ride over here. As a quality ride it ticks all the boxes, with good uphill efforts, fast swooping downhills, and m a fast undulating road where I can get down on the tribars and get some serious speed. That's where I smoked Barry Bonds (San Francisco Giants leading home run hitter). It goes through beautiful countryside, past some amazing houses, and has some spectacular views back to the City of San Francisco. To give you an idea, one of my fellow riders today is local, been here for ever, and as we regrouped and refuelled at Tiburon just said out of the blue: "Jeez, it's such a beautiful city." He's right, of course, but coming from someone who's seen it a thousand times it says a lot. There's also a fabulous cafe in Tiburon, which is normally my main target of the day, but today we were on serious business, and there was no cafe stop. Strava later revealed masses of PR segments, meaning I'd recorded my fastest times in lots of places during the ride. So clearly, I was working hard.

I arrived home and switched into my running shoes, then headed out on my run to Golden Gate Bridge. About 100 yards into the run and I was struggling. The traffic lights at the bottom of my street were on red and I was grateful for the rest. I had a dizzy spell, and everything went blurry and fuzzy, and it didn't clear until the lights had changed. They might have changed more than once, I don't know because I couldn't see. I knew already, that this was going to be tough. I zipped up my man-suit, got my head down, and pushed on. I managed to hold a 6:50 pace for a bit, and then a 7:00 pace, but by halfway I was on 7:50. I have never wanted to stop so badly. Everything was hurting, I had no energy, and I could barely lift up my legs. I had clearly hit some sort of wall. My legs were cramping up, and I could feel one muscle in particular beginning to strain. All logic was telling me that today wasn't my day, that this run should stop. All logic said that I would damage something if I continued, and all logic said that the only sensible thing to do was stop, walk home, and regroup. But my stubborn side won, as usual. I ploughed on, getting slower and slower but still trying to convince myself that I was getting some kind of positive training effect. At some point I stopped being on a run, and went into some kind of survival mode. I was on automatic pilot, the pain didn't matter, the pace didn't matter, getting home was all that filled my head.

I got home, and had to lean against walls, doors, anything that would hold me up as I got to the kitchen. Despite the fact that I had been through all kinds of misery and pain, my entrance didn't elicit much of a response from Jo and Katy. I grabbed food and drink, whatever was in range, and slumped into a chair where I crammed it all in as quickly as I could. In the next few minutes I swallowed a litre of coconut water, numerous handfuls of cashew nuts, a couple of cereal bars and 3 bowls of vegan chille. Then I crawled upstairs and went to bed where I slept for two hours. This is in the middle of the morning, about 11 O'Clock.

When I got up I tried to figure out what the problem had been. I spent the rest of the day eating loads and loads, and eventually went to bed again, and this morning I've woken up feeling OK. My efforts at analysis have been difficult because I changed so much at once. That alone is a mistake. I'm an experienced athlete, and I should know better. I do know better, but I tried too hard to get that extra kicker because of the Nationals. So I had more intensive training; a harder brick session than normal; a faster bike section than normal - in fact my fastest ever; and a changed diet. Putting that on record sounds ridiculous, and it makes me feel ridiculous. I think I'm OK now but I could have done some serious damage. It turns out that I've lost 6 pounds in weight. I don't know which of the variables or what combination of them has caused the problem, but I can't be taking those kinds of risks just to perform well at the Nationals. I need to make some use of my maturity and experience and not be so stupid again. I think this time I've got away with it, but its been a close call.

The most obvious cause has to be the vegan diet; I don't want to trash all the vegan theories, that would be unfair - I think I simply got it wrong. Either I missed something vital out, or I just didn't eat enough, but I believe what happened is that I had no fat stores, so when I ran out of the glycogen stores that are carried in the muscles and bloodstream there was nothing to fall back on. That would explain why I had a good ride but then hit a wall. Whatever the cause, with only 6 weeks to go before the big event, I'm going back to my normal routine. I might not get the big kicker but at least I'll finish. 

Mechanics of Music

The Mechanics of Music

Jo and I went to see “Black Lesbian Aftershave” tonight, at Melt, a bar down on Columbus. We arrived early, which is always fun as you see the individual musicians arrive – by bus, car, walking, whatever. The double bass player seems to live there. I’ve never been in when he wasn’t either at the bar or performing. The personnel changes, although there are a few mainstays, and I have my own nicknames for them. Tonight was a special night; they were on form. I wasn’t, sadly, and that took the edge off it. I was distracted, by all the things that are going on in my life at the moment. I’m coming to the end of a lot of things, and it’s having a bad effect on me. Although completing ‘Escape from Alcatraz’ is what I’ve been trying and training for over the last 9 months, finishing it leaves a void.

I retire in just a few weeks, and we will be leaving the beautiful city of San Francisco, my friends here, and my Triathlon High Performance team. I’m trying to come to terms with all of that as well as deal with the logistics of it all while also trying to focus on my triathlon training and racing, which is somewhat in the balance between a final glorious end to my stay in the USA and a whimpering, meaningless exit. At ‘Escape from Alctatraz’, having successfully taken on and beaten the demons of open water swimming, I think I qualified for the USA National Championships. According to the USA Triathlon website it is a qualifying race, and to qualify you have to finish in the top ten percent, which I did. But I’m not sure if I’ve missed something. In the UK you have to register as a candidate, which I haven’t done. Since this is my 4^th attempt at qualification, I’d be annoyed if I missed due to a technicality, particularly as I’m very careful in my preparation in general. The other uncertainty is that it’s listed as a sprint distance race, which it clearly isn’t, so I don’t know if the whole thing’s incorrect. If I haven’t qualified, then I’m not sure I can pick myself up again, and if I have I’m not sure if I can maintain my peak. ‘Escape from Alcatraz’ was my main focus for the season, and I peaked specifically for it. I got that right, but what that means is that I’m now over the top in terms of my race fitness.

Man without a mission

So – a quandary. I’ve asked USAT what the situation is but I’ve had no reply. I also asked UK Triathlon if I can wear the GB suit if I race the USA Nationals and they’ve said yes. Now that would be a good finish – wearing the GB suit in the US Nationals!

In the meantime I’m somewhat edgy, and a night out with ‘Black Lesbian Aftershave’ seemed like just the thing. ‘BLA’ as they are in shorthand, are good fun and they play lots of Miles Davis and a fair smattering of John Coltrane, my two favourite jazz musicians. I hate to admit it, but I don’t get the Black Lesbian Aftershave joke, and I’m embarrassed to ask as I suspect that everyone else does. I look for clues: they are all guys – no clue there; they are half black and half white (I mean overall, not individually) so that’s no help either. I know it’s a decent joke because there’s always a snigger when they announce themselves, but I’m not able to share it.

But back to the mechanics – as they get set up they start tuning up, cleaning out their instruments and so on. They play all weekend, at Melt and other places, so the sax and the trumpet in particular, get clogged up and have to be cleared out into the instrumental equivalent of a handkerchief. There’s blowing and spitting, tuning the strings, setting up the drum kit and the bongos, and getting the limited electronics to work. You start to observe small details, like the double bass player’s little add-ons to hold the bow and the sound pick-up, or the fact that the saxophonist has very small feet. You begin to appreciate how these 6 or 7 guys have to work around each other simply to fit into the small space they have available. The drummer and the bongo player are practically on the same stool, and when the saxophonist or trumpet player does a solo, the other has to take a step back to give him room. The piano has an exposed front so you can see the hammers rolling back and forth, it’s quite exciting, especially as you can’t see the player! 

So on Saturday I enjoyed a beer or three, while watching the guys set up. There’s an almost imperceptual change from the tune-up into the first tune itself, and I play a game of trying to spot it. I also try and spot the unspoken interchange between them as they flow through the set. There’s an obvious leader, who’s extremely cool, who calls the shots. He makes his sax stir up a groove and a rhythm, with spikes and drifts that run up and down your spine. When he’s on form, like he was on Saturday, he’s the best around these parts, but I’m not sure if he knows it. Maybe he doesn’t care. But he shares his music with us, and he leads the BLA band through the set and when he does a solo, he’s gone, lost in the mood. He carries the audience with him, but he doesn’t know we’re there. Great stuff, and a wonderful relief from triathlon.

Escaping from Alcatraz!

When I first got this contract in San Francisco for a year, my Scarab Tri Club pals immediately said: “you’ll have to do Escape from Alcatraz!” My equally swift reply was: “No chance!” There were a few major reasons for this. Firstly, I’m a lousy swimmer and only treat that part of a triathlon as a means of getting to my bike. Added to that, I hate open water with a passion. When asked what I didn’t like about it, I would reply that it was “the sight, sound, smell, touch and taste” of it, which didn’t leave a lot of room for a discussion. You could pile onto that list my fear of the water, the fear of marine life in general and sharks in particular.

So what was it that made me enter, as soon as the race was opened? There was certainly more than a little bravado involved and this was coupled with the fact that it was as hard as getting into the London Marathon so a valiant but failed effort to enter would have been a great result. I also wanted to face up to my fears and my shortcomings, and to deal with them, but once my ballot entry was successful reality hit me hard! For the next 9 months I trained hard for this event. I took swimming lessons with 4 – yes 4! – different coaches and while this improved my pool swim it didn’t help with the open water. It was impossible to explain to a proper swimmer how the fear in the open water gripped my chest so tight I couldn’t extend my arms fully to execute a proper swim stroke. Or to get them to understand that I was a millisecond from hyper-ventilating from the moment I got in to the moment I got out.  I would always lose some time where I had to stop and regroup, and catch my breath.

I did the Napa Valley Triathlon in April, and came out of the swim 8 minutes down on my closest rival, to whom I eventually lost by 10 seconds. I was devastated. Here I was, a few weeks away from my biggest challenge, and my swim confidence was in tatters. At this point, in stepped wife Jo. She wouldn’t let me quit (I honestly wanted to at that point) and we sat down and looked at what the fundamental issues were. Strangely, it wasn’t the sharks – the ones in San Francisco Bay are only little, and they are bottom-feeders – but it was a more simple fear that I would just vanish and nobody would notice. So for the next 6 weeks Jo came with me and watched while I swam in the bay. Gradually my confidence grew and I felt capable of achieving my goal once again. A couple of days before the event I went out to Alcatraz on a small fishing boat early in the morning where a bunch of us jumped in with some kayaks for support. We literally tested the water, felt the current, and got the idea of what it would be like on race day. We couldn’t swim across because it is a major shipping lane (they would close it for 1 hour on race day), but it was enough and I came out feeling great. I could do it!

Aside from the swim, I was working hard on my bike and run capabilities. I have joined a local triathlon team based around a high-performance gym, and, working with one of their USA triathlon coaches I did an intensive conditioning programme during the winter to build my core strength. That started to improve my bike performance, so that I increased my FTP wattage from 200W to 225W. I know that isn’t big wattage but given that I also reduced my body fat to around 8% and my overall weight to around 68K my power-to-weight ratio was decent at about 3.3. My biking training was a regular 30 minutes each day commuting to work, with 2 * 90-minute Computrainer coached sessions and a 60 mile road ride each week. The Computrainer sessions were really tough, group sessions typically built around a “ladder” where the wattage gradually increased, or intervals based on power or speed. They were highly technical, and your heart rate, wattage, speed and cadence would also be displayed on a huge screen for the whole group to see! Nowhere to hide! I started working with a power meter as well, so there was now a very technical edge to my training, which I carried over to my nutrition.

I looked after my nutrition very carefully, and I worked with a nutritionist to give me some expert help. This was all part of the coaching package at the performance gym. Practically everything I ate was organic. I used a lot of vegan recipes, cut out fat and wheat, and reduced my carb intake. Although this sounds a bit extreme, it was actually very easy, and I didn’t feel like I was missing out at all. I still had meat, just not much of it, and I still had beer and wine so it wasn’t boring or difficult. However, looking after myself like this did help my recovery and my body fat. That would be a problem in the cold water of San Francisco bay but helped on the bike and run. I did at one point overdo the carb reduction and started to lose energy but I corrected that, again with help from the nutritionist.

My run has generally been my strongest discipline, but I neglected it a bit during the winter in favour of the swim and bike efforts. In February, as the Escape got closer, I began to increase my running, usually doing a couple of lunchtime runs and two brick sessions after the Computrainer sessions. I was getting under 7 minute mile pace on the brick runs, so I was happy with that. The main changes I made to my running was to do more, and longer, brick efforts,  and to increase my run cadence. I upped the cadence from 80 strides a minute to 84 or 85, sometimes higher. Although it felt harder to run at a higher cadence it was faster and I could sustain it, so it was really just a mental battle I had to win.

My tester event was at Napa in April. It generally went very well, although the swim let me down a lot and I was disappointed with the 32 minute time. I really let the fear of open water beat me that day. The bike was good though. I was on my new Argon E118 with Zipp 808/404 combination, and was flying. Unfortunately my split wasn’t recorded so I don’t know how I did, but it felt good. I then finished off with a good run at 42 minutes for the 10K. Sadly I missed out on US National Qualification by 10 seconds, and I put this down to not having my race head on that day. The next test was at Wildflower in May. This time the swim was marginally better, but again the bike and run were really good and I felt very strong. Both were hilly and replicated the challenge that I would face in “Escape”. Once again, I missed out on US Nationals, this time by about 30 seconds.

So – on to “Escape”. I had rebuilt my confidence on the swim, and I had tested the bike and run courses a number of times. I was determined to make the most of my home advantage, and it was only now a question of whether I could get the top ten place in my age group that I wanted? I figured that if I had the swim of my life I could do 45 minutes for the 1.5 miles. I had already done the bike and run courses, so I knew I could get 1:09 on the bike (18 hilly miles) and 60 minutes for the (hilly, just over 8 miles) run, including the dreaded “Sand Ladder”. With adjustments for transition times and race adrenalin I thought I could do 3:10, which would be enough for 10^th.

I jumped off the “San Francisco Belle” steamer at 7:30AM with 2,499 others. Just over 38 minutes later I was getting out of the water at the St Francis Yacht Club. I looked at my Garmin and thought it must have stopped, but as I saw the timing boards I realized that I had indeed had the swim of my life! The trick is in the sighting, and I had been well briefed. You aim at two blocks of flats about a half mile away from where you actually want to land, and it works very well. I felt confident, I wasn’t gripped by fear like I had been before, and I only had one incident where I got in a tangle with another swimmer and ended up facing Alcatraz again. That was a bit of a shock but in fact didn’t cost much time as I quickly recovered. A few weeks earlier and that would have destroyed me. I have no doubt that without those sessions being monitored by Jo, I’d have come back on a kayak.

The swim exit is a good half mile from T1, so there was a mini transition at the swim exit. I had done one of these at Wildflower and I knew how chaotic they could be. I wasn't prepared to spend any time looking for my transition bag and shoes, so I opted for the half mile run in my wetsuit. I overcame the problem of bare feet by using Blue Seventy Swim Socks - the best invention ever! They keep your feet warm in the cold water, and can sustain a run on rough tarmac, so they were perfect. I had of course, practiced this run a few times, so I knew exactly how I was going to do it. I rehearsed where I would take off my goggles and hat, where I would strip the suit down to my waist, and how fast I would run. Some of this was based on the need to warm up, which the run in the wetsuit would do very well, so it was a double bonus: time saved on the mini transition, and arriving at T1 ready for the bike and already warmed up. I knew from very painful experience how tough it can be setting off on a bike still cold and wet. That run went perfectly, and I arrived at my T1 spot feeling great. Unfortunately, I was feeling so pleased with my swim, so warmed up from the run, and so in control that I switched off. I can't explain it but I just failed to engage properly with T1 and do the things I'd practiced, rehearsed and visualised so often. I missed my bike and had to backtrack - only two bikes down, but not as slick as I know I can be; I didn't take the wetsuit down far enough, and so it didn't come off easily. I got into a bit of a state and ripped it off with such force that I strained a ligament in my hand although I didn't realise that at the time. Then, because I was in a state, I took my bike off the rack without putting on my helmet - a potential penalty never mind the precious lost seconds. All in all, that was probably the worst transition I'd done for a long while, and although I only lost about 30 seconds because of all those mistakes, it's still 30 seconds that I had trained hard to save. That said, nobody will have the perfect race; everyone will have at least one issue. Given that the very next time I went to put on my swim goggles they broke, it could have been a lot worse.

The bike leg went like a dream. All my training paid off as I hit the most beautiful rhythm. You don’t often get this feeling, but its one where you know you’re working at or near your maximum output but it doesn’t hurt. You just flow. This, coupled with my local knowledge, was a huge advantage, and I was taking some of the big downhills at a good speed with no braking. I also knew where I could shave seconds using a better line, I was getting my gear changes absolutely right, and I was able to manage my effort all the way through, knowing the course and knowing how I would react and recover from the effort. It was as near perfect as I could have hoped for, and there were sections where I completed them having hardly noticed them happening. I beat my target time by 5 minutes, coming in just over 1:02; this was way better than I expected.

T2 was completely smooth and quick, the only diffculty being that my shoe didn't go on perfectly and was rubbing but that cost me no time at all, just a bit of irritation. I was very quickly onto the run with a transition that would have beaten most of the pros in terms of time, and certainly beat everyone else in my age group. The wheels started to come off a little bit on the run, as the salt water that I had swallowed began to bubble and boil in my stomach. I had serious digestive issues, and vomiting would have been the best outcome but it didn't happen. I wasn't running well, but I was managing to hold on to my target pace, albeit at the lower end of my hopes. I saw the elites coming back and they looked so fast! I felt like a carthorse in comparison, but my stomach was settling and I was running more consistently, if a little slower than hoped for. It became clear that I would have to work hard to get under the hour, and I pushed on through the sand section arriving at the turn in 30 minutes and about 10 seconds. I knew I could pull those back at least, so it was just a matter of tackling the sand ladder. This is just as it sounds - a steep set of steps in the sand, with wooden "rungs" as the base of the steps. These get covered over with sand, so you lose a lot of effort. In training I had done this in 2:35, and the pros would do it in around 2 minutes, but today I was held up by other people and I recorded just over 3 minutes. I didn't panic too much, just used it as a rest period, but I did get pretty annoyed!

I was hoping to increase my pace a little in the second half but it didn't happen. Another 55-59 age-grouper came past me, and I couldn't respond. I kept him in sight, hoping for something - anything - to let me get back at him, but it wasn't there. He went away from me, his pace only marginally better than mine, but better nonetheless. I held on (to my stomach and to the pace) to get my targeted 60 minutes. Finishing felt so good, and I sprinted over the line feeling like a world champion. I saw the timing clock at 2:49:27 but for some reason didn’t think that applied to me. I was still thinking of 3 hours 10 or something like that. Even the additional clue from my Garmin didn’t register. It was only when someone from my San Francisco team told me I’d gone under 2:50 that I understood. I had smashed all my targets and got 6^th in my age group which at last qualified me for the USA National Championships.

It really doesn’t get any better than that: I had, with Jo’s help, stood up to my demons and put them in their place. I’m now ready to finish off my year in the US with the Nationals in Wisconsin, and then home. If all goes to plan, I should be back for the Cross Country League. Given that I haven’t run in the rain or seen mud for a year, that should be interesting!