Oh! The Depravity!

If you have read more than one entry on this blog then you will know just how I feel about swimming. Or not. Because many days I don't even know how I feel about dragging myself back and forth over the same 25 yards over and over and over and over and over....

Some days I feel good and other days I just can't mentally get going. Other days I can't even make myself roll out of bed to get to the pool. Which is, I guess, similar to every other workout I do. Some days on the bike are work and others are great. Running is the same. I think that my biggest problem, not just with swimming mind you, is consistency. It's just that I suck worse at swimming than running and cycling, making mediocre or bad days worse. If I would get in the pool three days a week I could end most of my woes. Except one, sensory deprivation.

Having spent more than a few hours in psychology classes, I learned a LOT about sensory deprivation and it's effects on the brain. You couldn't pay me enough to get into an SD chamber because A) I don't trust people and could see some fucker locking me in there as a joke and B) I am claustrophobic. After a while floating in that warm saline bath in complete darkness and silence, your brain simply gets bored and starts thinking up shit that is nuttier than squirrel poo.

Swimming is as close to sensory deprivation as I dare get. I wear earplugs for health reasons and that reduces sound to next to nothing. I used to wear dark goggles, but bought clear lenses before I beat someone with a kick board. No matter how good of a swimmer I have been on my very best days, my brain does some strange shit after a few minutes in the water, usually looking for sharks (yup!) or making out weird (really weird) patterns in the reflections on the bottom of the pool or thinking I am going to drown or pass out or some other calamity. It also doesn't help that I am swimming in the early morning and my brain isn't fully functional after a nights sleep either.

See what I used to think was self preservation (not able to adequately swim because of a fear of drowning) I think might, might just be more susceptible to SD than other people who genuinely enjoy the silence and peace of swimming. In addition to mental oddities, I just can't focus on anything. Any. Thing. Some days. I cannot keep count my laps. Seriously, any more than one and a half is a challenge.

Just the slight reduction in environmental sensory input I get when swimming, combined with "morning brain" is perhaps, just enough to send me into a mental tailspin. When this happens, I am getting better at recognizing that there is something wrong. I'll generally stop my workout and do drills with paddles and fins, or form drills. Stuff that forces me to focus on what I am doing. This way the morning isn't wasted. I am also going to try music more, once I figure out how to keep my earphones stuck in my head for more than a lap or two at a time.

I could also be full of shit about all of this.

The Longest Mile

I think it was last Thursday... anyway, I decided to do a quick brick workout. As it had been snowing most of the day, this workout was going down indoors. As it happened, I had parts 2&3 of The Pacific on a flash drive to entertain myself with while performing this most masochistic ritual. Unfortunately my video card sucks so I am forced to watch it in a window not much larger than an iPod Touch. Alas...

All told I have about an hour and a half of video to watch and I decide to ride the trainer for most of it and then hop on the treadmill for about 15 minutes. 15 minutes on a treadmill is ambitious for me. I firmly believe there to be treadmills in hell. And they aren't like glowing hot with lava for a belt, either. There are just rows of treadmills, in a hot gym where the person next to you smells like they forgot to shower for a few days, where Dahmer and Gacy and Capone and Hilter and ten thousand years of sinners are all forced to sweat out an eternity. I digress...

The ride goes fine, just spinning circles. Then it's time to lace up the shoes and jump on the treadmill. Physically I felt fine. Not running on the cursed thing much, I started slowly and increased the speed as I could without feeling I was going to fall on my face. I did one mile and it took me over 12 minutes. And it wasn't like I was running with the grade on eight. It was on two. It was so mentally hard to do this. But I committed myself to finishing every trainer ride with a treadmill run because I know how the bike to run transition is and the practice will benefit me. I just look forward to doing bricks outdoors...

I am such a wuss

Spring is in full fling in Utah, and dangerously close to becoming a repeat of last year. It went: winter 'til April, spring from April 'til June, effing hot until November.

I'm watching it snow right now. Honestly, two months ago I would have just gone running in it. Now, I've tasted 70s. I've run in shorts. And one of the last things I want to do is go out and attempt to ride or run in this foul weather. Instead I'll take a mental beating and ride the trainer. And maybe run on the treadmill. In succession.

Maybe.

I will be at the pool tomorrow. In that instance being wet is the right idea. It's coming along well too. I've suddenly acquired the ability to swim with a two-beat kick. Which is awesome. I also no longer feel like the slowest person in the water, save for the old ladies that use the pool for social hour on their kickboards. Doing such a small bit of effort isn't even worth smelling like chlorine for. Just take a walk girls, it would be much better for you.

Nothing profound. Or profaned to say this day. I'm in a funk.

Manager's Special Doughnuts

I like doughnuts.

So much so, I spell the word doughnuts, instead of donuts. Could also be that donuts reads like do-nuts. Which has this homoerotic quality to it that dosn't appeal to me. If it appeals to you, fine. Do nuts. Go nuts with yer do nuts.

One of my favoritest things is a doughnut and a great cup of coffee. There is virtually nothing, nothing, that can keep me from enjoying a fresh doughnut and a fresh, hot cup of joe on a cool morning. Outside with a great view if I am really lucky.

Thanks to vast amounts of self control, I look to the heavens and thank ? for giving me the willpower to resist this dreamy combination. Mostly.

That said, manager's special baked goods are what, like one or two days old and half price or whatever. There's a guy in the office and, bless him, has gotten into almost a habit of bringing in a box of the manager's specials every other day.

I am not complaining.

Honestly. It's a nice gesture and some of the folks here in the outlands do or don't seem to mind and gulp down one or two of the suckers. I'll admit, I partook once. Once. And it sucked. My. Ass.

Not only was the doughnut kinda firm and vurrry dry, it led to a great deal of disappointment in myself. Through the cellophane window the pastries were very appealing. Once in hand, they were less appealing as food and more as hockey pucks or weapons. So I have to convince my doughnut-wanting brain that these doughnuts will not do for me all of the wonderful, pleasurable things a a fresh doughnut will do. And it's a bitch convincing myself.

While I am not dieting per se, I watch what I eat, and that is more than just viewing my loaded hand as it leaves the plate and carries food to my gaping mouth. I no longer have the metabolism of a teenager, and it took too long to lose the 10 sympathy pounds I slapped on when Wifey was pregnant with Smarty Pants.

Mostly I try and do a couple of things:

- I eat when I am hungry. Which means a LOT of snacking on fruit, vegetables, nuts and protein shakes. It keeps the metabolism fire at least smoldering.
- I look at what I eat and determine if it is worth the calories. Let me explain. If there is a fresh, blueberry doughnut and some coffee in front of me, I'm not going to deny myself that. Unless it is every day then get a fucking hold of myself... Conversely, a store-bought chocolate cake can be avoided. Sure, it's good, but it doesn't pump my nads enough to feel good about eating it afterwards.
- Moderation. I love McDonalds fries. But that shit makes you want more and more. It's like sex. But makes you fat and then kills you. So maybe it's like sex with a black widow spider. I've just gotten into the habit of ratcheting back on the size of the fries and sodas. I don't deny, I moderate.
- I drink a LOT of water. Usually with a mineral supplement to keep my electrolytes up.
- And I guess I exercise. A little. Really. I don't kill myself training. But I probably do more than most people.

So what is the point of all this? Right now I weigh nearly what I did ten years ago. I feel good. Admittedly, I feel hungry often. It's just the small, healthy meals/fiery metabolism thing. But it's actually good because hunger is such a basic, consuming need that it keeps my mind on track. I focus better. Instead of going in a million different directions, I focus on hunger and a couple of other things. That's it.

Oh, I guess the real point here is this. Buy fresh doughnuts half as often as the manager's specials. It will cost you the same and I'd feel good about consuming one, just one of those circular little bastards.

Moab .5

Because I KNOW you are just shitting yourselves wanting to know how the Moab Half Marathon went for me last Saturday, here's a quick rundown.

I was 27 seconds slower than last year. So much for the magical, cumulative effects of training.

But Wifey was 14 minutes faster than last year. That is great.

Once again we stayed in style and unmatched comfort with great friends. We ate wonderful food and laughed out loud. I might have enjoyed a few too many gintonics, too. "Hey girlfriends! Moab Marathon! No boys! You'll do great sweetie!"

The start was cold, again, they all are. But this one was coldest, yet. Still, the skies were as blue as they get with nary a cloud to be found.

If there is a bright side to my time to be spotted, it's that I actually followed my pacing strategy of 145-150 bpm, with the option to go as high as 155 or longer on steeper climbs, until I got to the bridge and then would uncork and run as fast as I could, which was right at my threshold of about 170. My new feed plan worked well also. A banana and some pbh on wheat bread pre race, followed be gel as needed. I ate four gels. I needed them. I had zero stomach issues before or after. Could have been the slower pace, or it could have just been that I found something that will work for me.

Now, I'd planned on comparing the data compiled with my Garmin 305 to last years' race. However, the little piece of shit didn't do any mapping so all I have is time, pace, and average and max heart rate to go off of. I'm pissed. The ability to compare data is one of the reasons I bought the damn thing. Rather than chuck the thing against the wall, I'll compare what I have.
- avg. pace: 8:34 min/mile
- avg. speed: 7 mph
- max speed 2009: 14.1 mph
2010: 10.0 mph
- avg. heart rate 2009: 156 bpm
2010: 153 bpm
- max heart rate 2009: 177 bpm
2010: 171 bpm

Clearly I worked less this year. Had I ran at the frantic pace that I ran last year, I likely would have bettered my time. That is why I wanted the mapping data, I could have compared the heart rate graphs between years. I know this years' graph would not have resembled quite the sawtooth of 2009.

But enough of that. I also had a great ride up Amasa Back, which I hadn't ridden in years.

And now it is time to get after training again. The Ogden Half is coming up, as is the mtb race season and maybe a triathlon. Who knows?