I will no longer be updating Iron Guide (see below). Instead, I am now writing at my new, personal blog. Though that will be about some of the newer things I'm doing in life, if you want to see updates about Louie, Lester, and now Dusky, add me on Facebook -- there's enough ridiculously cute pictures to go around.

And dogs.



Lester, trying to cuddle up to my feet and next to the warm heater, really did fall asleep and get burned to a crisp this time. Not that he really cares. You can't tell from the picture, but he kept prodding me with his ring toy the entire time I was trying to snap off a half-decent photo.



No animals were harmed in the making of this blog post. A certain puppy may gotten his fur singed because of his love of warm, cozy cuddling spots, but fur is all that was singed. And said puppy could honestly care less.

Labels: Lester

Permalink | Written at 6:30 PM | Post a comment | 4 comments | Trackbacks

	Or, to Carnation at least, which, as far as I'm concerned, is the end of the known world. Might as well fall off the edge afterwards. 22 miles, 4 hours and 2500 calories. Oh, and 135 pictures. ;) Slow but not so bad considering the billion and one times I stopped to take a picture.

Labels: Ironman

Permalink | Written at 10:41 PM | Post a comment | 2 comments | Trackbacks

Labels: Lester

Permalink | Written at 9:49 PM | Post a comment | 5 comments | Trackbacks

You know, in all of this, throughout my thousands of meters of swimming, hundreds of miles of biking, and (fewer) hundreds of miles of running, Lester doesn't contribute one bit. He just stays at home through all my training... sleeping, playing, sleeping, playing. Well, this has to change. No more of this one-way relationship. Lester, you hear? This has to change.

So, today, Lester came to the pool. On deck were 2400 meters: 400m warm-up, 1600m main set, 400m cool-down. I jumped in the pool, Lester whimpered like a little baby. I did the warm-up, Lester whined about how much he didn't want to be there. I did the mile-long main set, but Lester just went round and round, dragging his feet, moping the entire time. By the time I had gotten to the cool-down, Lester had... er, well, Lester had actually fallen asleep.

No, not in the water -- although that'd be kinda cool -- under the bleachers, where I left him. RIght there, under the bleachers. Can't you see him? That little green and white blob under the bleachers. Next time, I'll paint red stripes on Lester and we'll play a game of Where's Waldo Lester.

Fine, so maybe Lester didn't actually do the actual swim workout with me. Details schmetails.

Of all I do and everywhere Lester goes, I've never been brave enough to take Lester to the pool or the gym. I'm still not brave enough to take him to the gym -- I have nightmares of some kid trying to impress a girl, a set of flying bench press weights, and a smushed Lester -- but, from now on, I will be taking Lester to the pool. For a first-timer, he did fantastic. I can't blame him for the whimpering and whining: if my favorite-bestest-buddy-person-in-the-world jumped into a 12-foot-deep empty hole filled wet, bad-fur-day icky pee-water [*] and then started wildly flailing his arms and legs like he was being gobbled up by the humongous blue pool monster, I'm sure I would whine and whimper too. (Wouldn't you? No? Clearly, you don't have a favorite-bestest-buddy-person-in-the-world.) That he settled down pretty quickly after seeing that, no, Kushal isn't being gobbled up by said blue pool monster was just perfect and is exactly the idea.

[* Is it just me or does chlorine smell like pee? Maybe I've been hanging around puppies a little too long.]

So, Lester, no more slacking. Off to the pool we must go.

"Already?

But I'm so tired from my huge workout today! It was hard work watching you do all that work!"

Labels: Ironman, Lester

Permalink | Written at 9:06 PM | Post a comment | 4 comments | Trackbacks

The things that the human body and mind can accomplish are sometimes truly extraordinary. This morning, I found this in my inbox:

"I mean, God made me blind and didn't give me the ability to walk. I mean, big deal." Patrick said, smiling. "He gave me the talent to play piano and trumpet and all that good stuff."

This is Patrick's philosophy in life, and he wants people to know it. He isn't fazed by what many of us would consider insurmountable obstacles.

"I'm the kind of person that's always going to fight till I win," he said. "That's my main objective. I'm gonna fight till I win.

Extraordinary, truly so. But that's not the half of it. Read the original story and you'll find that Patrick's talents in piano and trumpet have taken him to the University of Louisville, where he is now part of their marching band. Yes sir, you read that right -- blind, in a wheelchair, and part of the marching band. "And this is no sit-still-in-the-wheelchair-while-the-band-marches-around-you routine: Patrick and his father are right in the thick of it, with the wheelchair sprinting and spinning in formation and Patrick hanging on and playing his heart out." His father? Yup. Read the story.

For the triathletes and Ironmen in the audience, this will no doubt remind you of Team Hoyt. Rick, a quadriplegic with cerebral palsy, and his father, Dick, have competed in nearly a thousand events -- 65 marathons, 25 consecutive Boston Marathons, 20 duathlons, and 200+ triathlons, including 6 Ironman competitions.

When Dick runs, Rick is in a wheelchair that Dick is pushing. When Dick cycles, Rick is in the seat-pod from his wheelchair, attached to the front of the bike. When Dick swims, Rick is in a small but heavy, firmly stabilized boat being pulled by Dick.

Sure, the Ironman is tough for all of us. But if you're legally blind? 58-year-old Richard Holcomb. Or, if you're also pushing your 45-year-old son for the entire 140.6 miles? Or -- in a different but somehow still the same fight -- blind, in a wheelchair, and part of the Louisville marching band?

The things that the human body and mind can accomplish are sometimes truly extraordinary.

Labels: Ironman

Permalink | Written at 9:26 PM | Post a comment | 1 comments | Trackbacks

Lester and I headed off to the raiser meeting at REI earlier today. He was, as usual, fantastic on the bus. I sat there typing away on my laptop for nearly an hour and Lester kind of just chilled, looking over occasionally to see what was so interesting. "Little white boxes, squiggly lines, and blinking lights, riiiight. Humans. And people worry about me distracted by weird things. Ring toys, baby, that's where it's at."

On the way back, I noticed something a little odd. "Lester, um, is that a new tan?" I know REI is all about the outdoors and all, but, you know, for January, this is a little odd. I mean, really. How much of a tan can you get in an hour? And, uh, Lester? I think you stuck around in there for a little too long -- you're burned to a black crisp here. Well, Lester was mentioning the other day how he thought he was looking a little extra pale these days, what with it being winter and all. I guess we've solved that problem.

No? Not buying it? You sure?

OK. Fine. So, it's not Lester and Lester didn't get a mazungo, instant-melanoma, good-for-the-next-century tan at REI. This is Willy, Heidi's dog. Willy is as sweet as apple pie, very gentle, and super-mellow. Does he remind you of someone? Yes sir, I'm talking about Louie. Even though Willy is seeing all sorts of new stuff today ("Er, what's all these wires and all this weird-looking, funny-smelling sports gear?"), he's taking it all in stride and is as calm as calm could be. Louie was just like that -- no matter how crazy or how new a situation you put him in, he remained purely serene. Think Zen master. Louie graduated with flying colors, so I'm hoping that means great things for Willy.

Heidi and I are trading dogs for a few days, to give each others' dogs some new experiences and also maybe glean some fresh insight into Lester's dog distraction. Lester has come a long way and he's fantastic at work and at home (see above), but we've still got a few kinks to work out when other dogs are in the picture.

In the meantime, I'm going to try to come up with as many nicknames as I can for Willy over the next three days. Suggestions? Heidi's got me started with Will, Willy, and William. I'm adding "Wittle Willy" for today. Comments are open. I expect lots of embarrassing names for Willy.

Labels: Lester, Louie

Permalink | Written at 8:46 PM | Post a comment | 6 comments | Trackbacks

You thought I forgot, didn't you? Didn't you? But, no, no, here's Lester making his mighty comeback. I bet your dog can't do this. ;)

Look at him looking away bashfully at the end. "Aw, shucks Dad, it's nothing, really. Can you please put the video camera away now and stop embarrassing me?"

What with my penchant for taking orientationally-challenged video and all, I've been looking for some good video editing software for awhile now. I finally found a good -- free is always good -- one, BitPlayer. Now, you won't have to rotate your monitor or buy that gosh-darned expensive pair of fancy micro-fiber shoes to hang sideways onto the wall just to watch my videos.

Sorry Lester, little pal, that just means more embarrassing videos of you.

Labels: Lester

Permalink | Written at 12:01 AM | Post a comment | 5 comments | Trackbacks

Train slow to race fast. Or so everyone tells me. But, oh my God, on some days it just drives me insane. On Sunday, I couldn't find my heart rate monitor and so just went out without it. The result? 13 miles at ~8:40 pace. Not too shabby. Nice and steady mostly, not too hard, not too easy, and hopefully right where I needed to be. Yesterday, I had my easy run, and, having re-found my old but somehow-still-functional Timex HRM, forced myself to stick to my training zones. (See below.) OH. MY. GOD. For the life of me, I couldn't hold a proper pace. I had to stop running and walk so many times to keep my heart rate below 160 that I was going absolutely bonkers. Yeegh. I go from 7:40 pace to 11:40 pace (!) to 7:08 pace to -- well, you get the idea. Consistent? Not me, apparently.

Note to self: big hills + consistent heart rate, BAD. Go figure.

So, in either case, base training. From trifuel,

There are two basic energy systems you use when training; anaerobic and aerobic. Unfortunately, you can not build both your aerobic and anaerobic systems at the same time very well. The idea behind base training is to train your aerobic energy system specifically and solely. Why is this important? [...]

Fat is a primary fuel source for the aerobic energy system. Over the course of a base period your body learns to more readily break down and utilize fat as an energy source. As an added bonus this adaptation helps post exercise fat metabolism as well. This is an important factor, especially for long distance athletes. The fat we have in our bodies could provide enough energy to perform many distance events back to back, whereas muscle glycogen depletion can occur in as little as one hour. The less muscle glycogen you utilize, the more efficient you are. Contrary to the aerobic system, the anaerobic system consumes carbohydrate rapidly and the byproduct is lactic acid.

Makes sense. Endurance events are about testing your mind and body's ability to endure. Base training is about teaching your body to endure. But here's the kicker:

Over the course of base I progress from the low end of the aerobic energy system and gradually proceed in steps to the high end. The heart rate zones I use fall into the 71-90% range of lactate threshold or 61-80% of max heart rate. [...]

The hard part of base training is having the discipline to train at these low intensities. It may mean running very slowly or even walking. It may mean separating from your training group in order to pursue your individual goals. It also means avoiding the contest of egos that group training often turns into. If you can find a training partner with similar goals and fitness level you may be able to train with them, but more often than not what I see is a base work gone awry.

Yup. That's me. Yesterday at least, base training gone completely awry, lost, off-course, and somewhere out past Bugtussle, Tennessee without a gas station in sight to ask directions. Not that I would've asked anyways.

Labels: Ironman

Permalink | Written at 10:17 PM | Post a comment | 0 comments | Trackbacks

Dinner, a few days ago. Ironman training is in full swing. A little obvious, you think?

I swim, bike or run (basically) every day. On Sunday, I had my weekly long run: 13 miles around Woodinville, Redmond, and Kirkland. Today, I put in a 2x400m + 1600m (one mile) swim workout. On Friday, I'll do a medium-intensity long-distance bike workout -- 50 miles or so, I'm guessing. I burn more calories on some of these workouts than most people do in an entire day.

Hence the heaping plate of vegetables. Three frozen bags worth. 15 servings.

See Mom, I do eat my veggies. =P

Labels: Ironman

Permalink | Written at 9:47 PM | Post a comment | 1 comments | Trackbacks