Been a big week of training. I understand fully what an opportunity it is to race in the World Championships for the 70.3 and full Ironman distance this fall, in September and October, in Vegas and Kona, and am absolutely taking advantage of it. Anything less would be disrespectful to the world — that’s the way I see it. If I’ve been dropping the names Vegas and Kona a lot, and continue to, it means I still haven’t gotten over it. I don’t plan to anytime soon. They are beautiful, awaiting monsters and need to be treated as such.
The big week led to an even bigger weekend. Now, let me state as a disclaimer that my training is my own. I’m not big on coaches or theory - I went through a lifetime of it in my first life when I had the makings of a million dollar pitching arm, and felt it slowly and painfully fall apart. I read every book, trained every muscle, listened to every theory and came away from it all with this perception that nobody knows anything. Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t follow the pros, and people I admire, and their coaches, and that doesn’t mean I still don’t immerse myself with an open mind — I guess what I’m saying is that I self prescribe training based on what my head and body tell me I need. Vegas is about 40 days away, Kona is about 30 days after that. To me, that means the bulk of my Kona training needs to happen now - at least distance wise. Starting this weekend and for the next 2 weeks, I need to battle through some heavy volume work. This weekend, volume meant 100 miles on the brutally windy PCH on Saturday followed by 17 miles running through the city on Sunday. A TYR bungee swim came before the Saturday ride and I went hard teaching spin classes before and after the Sunday run. I feel good. Been spending a lot of time in compression pants lately to try and give something back, and I think I’m sold - or at least sold on the potential that something is helping take care of my body without having to think about it.
Next weekend I was going to peak out on distance before coming back down to get back into speed before Vegas. I was thinking 120 on the bike, extra 10 up, extra 10 back, but think I’m going to call in a compromise - because I believe when you decide to beat up a body to chase an endeavor such as this, you must also listen to inspiration when it comes. The picture above is a sand dune at or around Point Mugu on the PCH - it’s at about the 40 mile point from my door, and inspiration says I need to trade those extra 40 miles on the bike for a couple runs up and down the dune’s softest face. Because that sounds fair, and beautiful, and inspired. Then run my 21 on Sunday.
Oh, California. What a portrait you paint. Such a darling.
