Rollin', again

Humans are extraordinarily trainable. Put another way, people are creatures of habit. We will default to the same thing we've always done, because it's comfortable, because it's a known entity. It doesn't even really seem to matter that it doesn't work, or provide the results desired. The definition of insanity is, "doing the same things over and over, and expecting different results". And so it goes. We do what we've always done, we continue to get what we've always got, and we wonder why things don't change. Like the hamster in the flywheel we keep burning energy and effort, but the scenery stays the same.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-136828317372802645

I sit here this morning, a red-and-yellow cup in front of me and I continue to do what I've always done, around this time every year. "Roll up the rim" the cup says, promises of prizes and riches within. And, like a sheep, knowing full well that my odds of winning are far less than 1 in 9, I keep on rolling. A lot of people I know do the same and we all keep getting the same result, but I betcha the stock price of that particular coffee provider shoots through the roof at this time of year.

So what does this have to do with training? The body adjusts to routine, and to familiarity. After a time, a plateau will be reached in terms of repeating the same workouts over and over. Even worse, as we all continue to age, it's likely that performance will drop. All other things being equal, men and women lose one pound of muscle mass per year after the mid-thirties.


So, mix it up. Do different things. Run different roads. Ride different routes. Swim more. Above all, change up the routines. Spend more time on technique and form, especially in the water - it's the cheapest easiest way to "free speed" (although the free is debatable). Do more strength and flexibility training. Don't get sucked in by the shiniest, carbonest "go-fast" toys. There's a reason why world championship-winning race times haven't changed significantly in the last twenty years, even with all the proclaimed latest and greatest speed-creating gadgets. Come on now, do you really think that dimples on your bike suit are going to get you closer to the podium? Carbon, aluminum, titanium MoGo, whatever. The engine is the eating/sleeping/breathing component on the bike. When in doubt, train more. Get off the flywheel, and go somewhere else. Most importantly, just go. Less talking, more sweating.

Gotta run now - actually, literally run.

Peace.

And buy less coffee.

Stop the presses!!

Yep, the world's rotation can stop. The Maple Leafs have solved all, and I do mean all their problems. The sky is a little bluer, the birds are chirping a little more cheerfully, everyone has more of a spring in their step. This morning, the Maple Leafs dealt Wade Belak off to Florida for a millionth-round draft pick. Okay, so I give Cliff Fletcher credit for finding someone who would actually give up an asset for Wade Belak?!? Even worse - I was on the treadmill this morning, suffering through an hour of analysis on the "Trade Deadline" show. Please - this is newsworthy? We were subjected to such epic pieces of information as, "it's exactly 122 steps from the home dressing room to the visitor's dressing room in the Bell Centre (in Montreal). I tell you, my life can continue, now that I know that.



Rant off....on to more training. As mentioned, got in the run this morning. Also got in a solid drill-focused swim. Now that I don't have access to the weight room at the "old office" anymore, can't really be making any more excuses to not swim. In other words the swim, which has always been the "third" of the three sports, is going to fall even farther behind, unless I take drastic action (i.e. swim more, a lot more). So more is what I'm planning to do.



Packing it in - gotta get ready for the K-Dog, coming down to visit this week. Funny story - his mother, after hearing about my sudden "free time" thinks I should join the fire department, following in the footsteps of my younger brother. She's even gone so far as to offer to "break off" a chunk of land on their property, to allow us to move up north and build a house next door, so I can become a fireman. Tempting to be sure, but I think I'll stick it out down here for just a little while longer. Gotta love her. :)

Peace.

"A" milestone #1, etc.

Last comment on last week: I've done some pretty challenging things in my life. I've stayed up for 72 hours during "frosh week" (or so I recall - it does get a little hazy). I've run marathons and sat through marathon labour sessions - 26 hours of labour for my son's birth (although I'll admit I did have the easy job that day). I've finished six-hour bike rides and three-hour runs after which I've just come home to lie down gently on the couch and try to get the room to stop spinning. I've even finished the frickin' Ironman. All of these compare to a ten-minute speech last Thursday when I had to stand up in front of nearly 100 people to say good-bye. Carrie wasn't the only one with the shaking hands - I wouldn't have given me that knife to cut the cake. Like I said, you can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family and most of those yahoos have been "family" for going on eight years.



So, this weekend is A-race #1 - the Chilly Half. In the spirit of BHAGs, my goal for this race is a 1:30:00 half, which would better my current PB by 5 minutes (and 2 seconds, if you're picky). Put in my last long run yesterday - an easy 12 miler, and it was a beautiful day for it. Sunny, for the first time in weeks with only the slightest puffs of wind. Thought briefly about pulling the bike out of the basement and hitting the road, but didn't get there. Made up for it today by putting in two hours on the bike. In the basement, mind you, but I watched "Million Dollar Baby". Here's my one take-home message, and the reason why this might make the list as one of my all-time favourite movies: do what you believe. Listen to others, take in their advice, recognize their wisdom and experience, and then do it your way anyway. Stubborn, dogged, single-minded persistence trumps talent, flash and $$ every day of the week (kinda sounds like a triathlon moment). Great movie - I won't say any more if you haven't seen it, but I do recommend it.



Here's the dilemma for this week. If the half-marry on Sunday is an A priority race, then how to get in enough training as per the schedule so as to stay on schedule AND still be sufficiently rested to put in a good effort Sunday morning? Here's the answer: no running this week after Thursday. Nothing at all on Saturday. That means front-loading the week - looking to have a total of at least 10 hours in by Friday. Sheesh, with all this new free time on my hands it should be no problem.



On that front, I did get something of a "surprise" call today. Wasn't expecting to get a bite quite so soon, but another call came in. Nothing concrete - don't get excited. I'm not getting too worked up about anything just yet. I expect that I'll continue to have a lot of free time for quite some time.



Peace.

Las chicas magnificas

I was originally going to call it "the Magnificent Seven", but someone may have noticed there were ten - I never claimed to be a mathematical genius.

Also, my Spanish is not perfect. I may have just called them all fat or something, which would be bad.

Give it up, friends and neighbours, for the "old school" - my homies who were, are, and will continue to run the business. I have no doubt they'll be excellent.

Hats off to them.

Big wheel keep on turning

So, the sky hasn't fallen in. The world continues to turn and the sun rises over the horizon for another day - allegedly anyway, in this part of the world, as it rained steadily all morning - freezing rain, the sleety kind that turns to ice as soon as it hits the windshield of your car.

One of my first concerns after the "big announcement" (read the last post if you don't know what I'm referring to) was that I would sink into the depths of despair and dismay, losing all activity and reverting to days spent sitting on the couch, watching mindless brainrot, eating garbage and unavoidably turning into this:

Well, I just went through this week's workout log, and after a solid eleven hours, that just may not happen. BTW, to answer the ball hockey reference, we had a team in "the U" that was named after dude above - the Fat Bastards. Actually, the team was formed before Austin Powers movies, so actually I guess he was named after us.

Went out with some friends last night to celebrate the new chapter in life. At one time we all worked together at my soon-to-be-former employer. In fact one of the guys there was one of my former bosses. There was most certainly a bottle or three of vino, although none from the winery of the namesake above. Consequences? Minor - blew off a swim this morning and also let my son skip hockey practice. Still got my long run in this afternoon - with the freezing rain the run unfortunately had to come indoors.

A couple of long-term consequences to the current situation. There is a temporary hold on signups for any more races - at least until something more permanent comes up. That means for now Mississauga half, Peterborough, Milton, Toronto Island and the PEC full are on hold. Muskoka and the Chilly Half were already booked. Speaking of books, my promised book reviews are also on hold, at least for now. They will get picked up again at a future date - just can't promise one at this time.

So, on we go. The training continues - I'm going to treat Peterborough (the A-lister on the unconfirmed list above) as though it's a "done thing". There are some hooks in the water right now, and hopefully one or two will bear fruit - mix any more metaphors for ya?

Peace.

Come gather 'round children...

Wherever you roam

And admit that the waters around you have grown

Eight more sleeps. Subtract the weekend and "family day", and it's five more days. Five more days until the end of my gainful employment. Chapter two in my adult professional life closes, and chapter three begins.

And accept that soon you'll be drenched to the bone.

So, there it is. I have given my notice and decided to move on. For eight years now, in sickness and in health, for richer and poorer, in good times and bad (and there have been both) the other "marriage" in my life has been to "the office". Good times too numerous to mention - my son was born the weekend before I was to start work at my "new job", way back in 2000. Like literally, that weekend. I had to call in sick for my first day of work on the new job - how's that for a beauty first impression? Never mind that his first words to me on the day I finally made it in were, "I've given my two weeks notice, now meet your new, new boss". Or how about dunk tanks at the company picnics, or various sordid Christmas parties, or the ever-famous November canoe trip. I can't even list the good people. There are too many - I'd fear beginning and offending someone by forgetting to mention them.

Bad times? Now why would you want to dwell on those? Let's just leave those sleeping dogs lie.

Well the order is rapidly changing...

In the last two days I've been asked more times than I can count, "why?" The short answer to that is this: sometimes in life, it's just time to move along. The longer answer is really just a variation of the shorter answer. Every road, every path, every way forward eventually ends. When that happens it's time to find another path and continue the journey. A lot of times the path is not completely direct, and certainly not four smooth paved lanes, but the journey continues nonetheless. This summer on one particularly questionable long bike ride I ended up turning off one of those four lane, paved routes onto what turned out to be an unpaved, bumpy dirt road. I remember thinking at the time that if I flatted out (may have only been carrying one spare that day) that I could conceivably never return to civilization. It occurred to me that if I was somewhere where I could get phone reception I still wouldn't have been able to call the rescue crew (i.e. the wife) and tell her where I was to come and get me. This is just a little like that. Another turn down a (maybe) bumpy road, looking for pavement.

The second most popular question in the last two days: "where are you going?" Just like that hardpack gravel road, I'll let you know when I get there. All I know is it's got to reach "pavement" at some point.

New page, new chapter. Tomorrow, we'll talk about training, and how all this connects to my old ball hockey team.

For the times, they are a-changing...

They most certainly are.

Peace.

Is shoveling snow cross-training?

So, here's my most recent course of "cross-training" events, starting yesterday @ 4:45 p.m.:

4:45 - remove nose from grindstone
5:00 - start drive home @ 40 km/h (25 mph in American)
5:30 - arrive at home - park on street, snow walls too high to get into driveway
5:35 - start shoveling driveway
6:30 - finish shoveling driveway
9:00 - take dog out for nightly constitutional. Realize driveway looks as though it's never seen a shovel. Snow has returned with a vengeance.
10:00 - pull blankets over head, curse snow.
6:15 a.m. - stagger out of bed to shovel driveway
7:15 - finish driveway, so wife can get her snowsurfing VW Jetta out of the driveway
7:50 - kiss wife good bye, make kids lunch for school
7:51 - answer phone call from wife. She's stuck in the snow at the end of the driveway.
7:52 - 8:20 - dig and push car out (with neighbour's help - thanks Jeff!), so wife can surf on down the road to work
8:30 - 8:45 - pack kids up for school. Silently curse snowplow that has turned in at end of street
8:50 - arrive at gridlock, a long way in front of school
8:57 - arrive at front of school. Entries are closed - snowplows have not yet cleared parking lots so cars are not allowed to enter.
8:58 - drop kids with teachers on sidewalk. Head off to work, not thinking about plow.
9:30 - replace nose on grindstone, refusing to think about plow.

So that's nearly three hours of shoveling in two days. This probably explains why my ride tonight was cut short after 45 minutes - nothing left in the tank. That, and the after-work Thursday night hockey game. It's not exactly sport-specific training, but it's aerobic base work. Perhaps it could be best described as "alternate core/stability work" - my back sure feels like it's been through a workout.

And, by the way, I ignored the snowlump at the end of the driveway from the plow. It's just going to have to be lumpy at that end of the driveway until spring.

Nutrition - by others

I had some idea that I would post some pontification on the topic of nutrition - this coming from an individual who hung up a picture of chocolate chip cookies in an earlier post.

In this sport, 95% of all competitors, and I'm willing to wager that percentage is higher, have no problem putting in the swim, bike and run time - okay, so the swim takes a little extra convincing, but you get the general idea. A very select few are willing to go the extra mile, and pay as much attention to the fuel that drives the workouts. I mean, honestly now, how many times have you said to yourself, "yep, after that three-hour ride/run, I've earned a cheeseburger and a beer".

I often use the phrase "garbage in, garbage out" at work. The same principle applies here. Your engine is driven by the fuel that you put in the tank. Can't run a premium engine on a bowl of Froot Loops and Eggos.

As a wise man(guy) once said, fuhggedaboudit. All I could have said, and much more, has been said many times better by Chuckie V. The post, and associated reading list are here. I'll dig into this list ('cuz that's what I do) and report back. There's a great deal of logic here, and of course the conspiracy theorists will be on this like green on grass. For those interested, another fine source of info on the topic is Mark's Daily Apple.

Check it out. Report to follow.

K-dog

Okay, so the week was a write-off, from a training perspective. Went out for an easy run Thursday night, and had to race home half-way through the circuit. It was a race to make it to the toilet (seconds to spare), and let's just leave it at that. I thought that was that, but the rest of the weekend so far has been spent "spun out", feverish and dizzy.

Never mind all that. I'll talk about training next week. On Friday morning, when I was actually feeling human, I went down to the Hospital for Sick Kids to visit my brother, sister-in-law and my eight-month old nephew. The "K-dog" has DILV, a congenital heart defect that basically means he was born with half a heart. To make a long story short, the little dude is in for three open-heart surgeries before his third birthday. That's the little dude with me (above), taken this summer between surgery #1 and surgery #2. This week was the tail-end of the recovery week following surgery #2. This has a little extra special meaning for me, since my first daughter was diagnosed with HLHS, and was stillborn at five months.

The good news of the weekend? By the time I saw them on Friday, the little dude was chubby, pink (just as babies should be) and chasing after his daddy's chocolate chip cookies (runs in the family, apparently). He was on his way to being discharged from the hospital on Friday. By now, they're all home.

The take-home message? Big things and little things have a way of shuffling priorities. Little things are precious. Life is precious. Stop reading this and go hug who, or whatever you have to hug. I'm going to go hug my kids now.

Peace.