Coaching Ain't Easy

Underwater Fitness Witness

This is not just a stupid picture of yours truly doing his best Gordo impression (sans shirt, that is) but to show Dave my home-made camera contraption for filming swimmers underwater. I think the pictures explain the gizmo better than words ever could Dave, but let me know if you have any further questions.

Ingredients: PVC piping (6' x 1" diameter); an end cap or two plus a PVC junction; 2 x 2-inch "L"-shaped brackets & necessary nuts and bolts to fasten them together; and a 1/4" screw to mount the video camera. I needed a drill in order to auger through one of the "L"-shaped bracket, so the 1/4" bolt would fit through it. All told: $9 at the local hardware store. The camera (Sanyo Xacti) ran $200 at Amazon (it's now only $175!) and the shoes are Croc copies (Croc o' shits, I call 'em). The shorts were "found" in the Lost & Found at my local YMCA, while the helmet and shades are both made by the fine folks at Rudy Project, my one and only remaining sponsor and the company responsible for hiding my lying eyes. The 80-degree weather was provided by the Coastal California gods and, of course, good ol' global warming.

The Canadian Switcharoo

From Heather (and Trevor's) blog...

"I am not going to miss the feeling of constantly chasing fitness because of the time constraints of a full time job. I am not going to miss seeing Trevor for only 2 days a week with schedules that don't mesh, and I am really looking forward to being able to attend so much better to my overall health, and recovery from training - nutritionally and otherwise. I think that we are both used to jamming so much into everyday that we are not going to know how to deal with our new life at first. What? You mean I can just take a nap? I am supposed to just put my legs up and stretch before working out again later? Huh?"

The two are moving down here in just a handful of days in order to train under my surveillance, just as their Canadian countryman, Angela, departs for the Philippines and Team TBB. They'll receive my undivided attention (despite my ADD!) and will be afforded all the amenities: sunshine, trafficless roads, "hand's-on" coaching from someone who's "been there" (ahem, me), and a new round-the-clock schedule that revolves around one thing and only one thing: reaching their best. Well, that and kicking some ass.

Ryan Denner

Riding Down a Dream

Rental Car-pe Diem

The Effort Within

Some of the newer athletes I work with---who really aren't all that new, except to me---are slowly becoming aware of my Caveman Approach, albeit my ever-evolving Caveman Approach. (The "ever-evolving" delineation kind of goes against the whole premise now, doesn't it?) So far, nobody's bemoaned too much. Of course, they probably realize I'd club them over the noggin if they were to.

But back to the Caveman thing. One workout I prescribed this week was done so as such...

"After warming-up for an hour, hop down in the aero-bars as though you were racing and pedal at a consistent, steady effort that allows you to get off the bike three plus hours later and run at your fullest potential, regardless of heart rate. If you hop off the bike and are dead, we can assume that you rode too hard or didn't fuel adequately. And if you have more than enough energy left, you may not have ridden hard enough. The idea is to get in tune with your mind's and your body's effort without being enslaved to a particular heart rate or power output..."

I was asking him (or her, you decide) to use his/her sensory, visual and auditory anchors, along with his/her intrinsic kinesthetic awareness, to essentially be cognizant of "all that surrounds you and all that is within you". I wanted him/her to be connected to his/her emotions but to be concurrently unbound by them, to be attached to his/her environment yet at the same time freed by it, to focus on the trees and the forest and neither of them.

If it sounds easy, I can assure you: it's not. Much like getting to the finish line the very instance you've depleted your "reserves". (Never mind those Iron-imbeciles who forge ahead for hours on end only to forge a fainting episode just as they clock in at the line. Please people, you know could've gone further...and farther. And anyway, what are "reserves"? Were you saving them for something?)

The goal is to come to appreciate and determine that indefinable, intangible venue concealed deep within the very foundation of your soul where you know you can hang all day and yet still hover close enough to that razor-sharp edge where anything can go wrong, and where everything would, had you overstepped your inner boundaries. It is essentially the art of becoming a body whisperer, without an over-reliance on all the machinery we convince ourselves that we need in this day and age. (I posit: if a workout occurs and there isn't a watch or a powermeter or heart rate monitor or GPS unit to record it, did it really occur?) Oh, and this, by the way, can only be done outdoors, where Mother Nature (capitalized since She's my deity) has Her say in the matter...

You cannot be a caveman indoors! You cannot be a Wii Fit Caveman! You need to go out and face adversity. And just the same, adversity MUST confront you.

Easy? Not at all.

As I frequently harangued throughout my Pacific Crest Trail Journal, while the aim may be simple or straightforward, it is never easy (truth is, on the PCT, it's never even straightforward!). Gordo touches on this subject in his latest blog and it is the very theme of my existence. Simple, not easy. That's the closest one can get to describing the true essence of a caveman workout. There are no rules but your own. Go without and look within. Dance upon the edge.

Form Reform

Anyone who's ever been coached by me in a "hand's-on" manner knows how often I preach the merits of "proper form". In a word, galore. This is especially critical in swimming.

A quick primer on "proper form"...

In running, our patterns are basically set in stone from the time we're born (or from the time we first start to run, anyway) and it's terribly difficult to change them. (Instead of the old dog/new trick syndrome it's the young dog/too thick to learn new trick disorder.) This doesn't mean it's not worth trying to improve your form or technique, but that you might just be better off not worrying about changing anything but the volume you run. (Please disregard the plethora of negatives in this sentence!) In running, your form finds a way of getting better the fitter you get.

On the bike, it's much easier to improve your technique but the performance benefits are most often just marginal (that is unless unless you're WAY out of whack). Still, it's worth working on. If Simon Lessing had been more aerodynamic on the bike I dread to imagine how much faster he'd have been.

But in swimming, technique (i.e., "proper form") is EVERYTHING. This is especially the case in pool swimming (though less so in open water swimming around masses of others). Unlike it is with running, your swim form will not find a way of getting better as you get fitter. I've known plenty of fit thrashers in the pool and I just love beating up on them.

If you fail to improve your swim form you will fail in swimming.

So while "proper form" is entirely conceptual and wholly subjective, water is not. Neither is improvement.

Here's another couple of videos I shot of Angela. And though Google Video ruins the clarity (nice of me to bag on my host, eh?), you can get the gist of what's going on.

Angela's biggest form flaws are to lead with her elbows during the pull phase (rather than with her hands and wrists) and an overall lack of a glide. At 5'5" she should not be taking 23 strokes per length. The local Lompoc swim star, a 13 year-old phenom named Paula (who can blitz the 100y free in under 52 seconds!!!), is an inch shorter than Ang and yet flows across the pool in half as many strokes. (By the way, Paula's not even in high school yet and some major universities---one of which rhymes with Schman-ford---have already expressed interest in her!) So, to those who say it doesn't: talent does exist. In triathlon, however, hard work is still your best bet. And proper form is hard work. Get to work.

Wii Fit

Los Angeles is hell as far as I'm concerned. Every once in a while I like to visit hell, since it's not all that far from where I live: 3 hours, depending on traffic. Of course, in LA, everything depends on traffic. The weather depends on the traffic! Anyway, for the last couple of days I was down in hell on business, another thing I'm not so fond of. Thankfully, I was afforded a nice place to stay in nearby Huntington Beach, with my cousin Dav (an Ironman finisher) and his wife Debbie (an Ironwoman, for putting up with Dav and me when we get together). And this is the reason I write.

Dav and Deb had purchased one of those new-fangled Nitendo Wii video game consoles for their children, Keet and Alec. After some coaxing from six year-old Alec, I decided to try my hand (and feet) (and a few other body parts) at Wii Fit and what I found was mildly surprising. The "game" is actually somewhat challenging. No wonder they've sold a million of the units in the last month! Now I'm not so sure that the top Ironman triathletes will go out en masse and purchase the device so they could quit all their running and riding around, but it did challenge me in new and not-so-exciting ways. Of course, the major challenge was in figuring out the device's software and all-too-necessary pre-programming. Once that was achieved the rest of Wii time was more appropriately considered fun. Challenging? Not so much. Fun? For the most part, yes.

If I wanted a challenge, I would not stay indoors or play Wii Fit. Instead I would lace up my running shoes and head back to Los Angeles for a run. Now there's a challenge. Of course, no matter how slow I'd run, I'd still move along faster than all those SUVs stuck on the interstates.

Carpe Carparking

Underwater Witness

Perhaps the niftiest thing about my new video camera, besides allowing me to capture all those escapades in the bedroom and the bathroom, is that it's waterproof. That's right, waterPROOF. Not just water resistant. This isn't just handy in the bathroom but also in the pool. Here's Team TBB fledgling Angela on the return trip of an all-out 50, which she swam in just over 33-seconds. There are a number of things she can work on but since this is a speed never even remotely approached on race day, there's little point in critiquing this particular clip. I shall post more in the future (likely of Heather and Trevor) and talk about a few key points.

Oh, and if you think you're seeing double here, you are. Don't complain though. Without a mask or goggles (or a waterPROOF video camera) you'd never see this well underwater (no pun intended). It's neat to press play [>] on both at once and watch Ang go against herself! You go girl! You too you other girl!

Heat Waves

While the rest of the US seems to be inundated in snow and ice and frigid temperatures, I headed to the beach today, to escape the heat. I sh!t you not. I even thought about a midday ocean dip but a nearby dorsal fin of unusually large proportions put a stop to that. Thankfully it's the thought that counts, right?

Now for an invite to anyone interested...if you can get to Santa Barbara County and procure a place to stay I'll play host for you on our local backroads and trails for a few days. I'll even throw in some free coaching, for what it's worth. (Obviously not much.) I just feel bad about having all this nice weather to myself.

Okay, back to my margarita before it melts. And anyway, I could use the sodium.

Side Stepping

Now that I'm a technosexual kind of guy and the proud new owner of a video camera I've decided to give up worrying about the elements of style and the intricacies of proper grammar and instead just broadcast of bunch of videos of me blathering on about this or that or this and that. No more writer's cramp! (I kid, of course; write I shall.)

Here's one of my favorite exercises to do in the gym or at home. They're called--get this--"side steps". Or at least that's what I've always called 'em. I've also always tried to describe these in the written form but always struggled to do so. No more of that nonsense!



This is Angela demonstrating a few.

A few things regarding these...

1) Resistance is determined by the weight in each hand or by the height of the platform, or by both. You might even work up to wearing ten-pound ankle weights while carrying a giraffe on your back, for further resistance. I suggest sparing us all from the bravado and starting with just the movement at first, with the platform at a mid-shin level. Your knees may not take to these straight away (i.e., you're weak). Of course, the main resistance comes in the form of that extra ten or fifteen pounds you're wearing under your skin, which is exactly why you should be doing a ton of these in the first place.

2) Do the entire maneuver is done one slow-motion performance. Don't pause at any point. As you become more adept you can practically fly over the platform and these take on the role of a plyometric exercise.

3) When your balance becomes rock solid challenge yourself by doing these barefooted. If you master that, try them with your eyes closed. If a ninja assails you right then, use the weights in your hand for self-defense. Remember: you are a warrior, a ninja nemesis. Take that you stupid ninja!

4) Even though time is a manmade entity, do these by time and not by number of repetitions. Simply start on one side of the platform and finish on that same side after an amount of time that you deem appropriate--seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, eons, whatever. I have Angela do them for up to twenty minutes at a time, while I chat up the girl at the front desk or catch up on some table tennis.

5) If you can get them in sync with your legs, don't be afraid to swing your arms as though you were running. This will help work that spindly upper body of yours.

6) If you're narcissistic do these in front of a freshly-Windexed mirror. If you're ugly do them in the dark, please. If you're not sure whether you're ugly just ask someone or, better yet, shoot a picture my way and I'll save you the trouble. If you're ugly and narcissistic...well then, welcome to the club!

7) Don't come crying to me when you hurt two days later. These suckas hurt!

A Snippet re Running Uphill

Now that I own one of them there video camera gizmos I've decided to start posting some videos. Most this footage will cost a nominal fee to view, as it will involve me and a bunch of naked animals wrestling around in cherry-flavored Jello, but you needn't worry: I shan't be posting those ones here. No, instead I'll just post the ones that pertain to triathlon and I'd never charge for these. I don't suspect they'll make me a celebrity or anything. Nor could I imagine that they'll be as exciting to shoot as the aforementioned ones. But they might just give you an idea of what to do whilst training, or, more likely, what not to do. Here's my first clip. It's from yesterday's long jaunt up the Fig.

The gist is to reduce the impact (physically speaking, metaphorically implied) that a run might have on you by considering an uphill route. While you can limit impact in a number of ways when running (by choosing a softer surface or by choosing more cushioned footwear, for example) nothing works quite as well as pointing yourself up a steep hill and kicking yourself in the butt. This is especially the case when you still want a hard workout. The irony, of course, is that you're forced to fight gravity with every step and yet it befriends your feet while doing so. That said, be forewarned that running uphill is tough on the lower legs and I don't suggest climbing four or five thousand feet your first time. Finally, there's the whole issue of getting back down the hill, which is what a good coach is supposed to take care of.

Pictures from Today's Run up the Fig

To prepare her for the onslaught that is Team TBB, I had Angela run twice yesterday, once in the early morning for 90-minutes and then again midday for another 90-minutes. During the first run I kept her company by lacing up my running shoes and hopping on my bicycle. During the second run, I kept her company by lacing up my running shoes and hopping on my big, bad Kawasaki. It was 90 degrees out and I wasn't about to risk heat stroke! I'm no fool.

What Would Tony Little Do? (WWTLD?)

I'll admit it. There are times I've searched near and far, high and low, throughout the deepest, darkest, dankest recesses of the Internet, just to find something motivational to send to an athlete. Alas, I don't always come up with my own material. I've found that telling an athlete to "suck it up" isn't always the best advice, and scarcely does it inspire.

Me: "Suck it up."
Athlete: "Do you know of another coach you'd recommend?"

So, in my quest to help enthuse, I turned to the 'net. Nothing but 'net.

I fear, however, my 'net gains are scanty at best.

We've all read about the mind-boggling exploits of Chuck Norris (for example: Chuck Norris doesn't read books; he stares them down until he gets the information he wants) and there's no shortage of motivational quotes surrounding His greatness. But I was sick of all that and all the motivational one-liners out there…"Make my day, punk", "Just do it", "I'll be back", "Live strong", "You had me at 'hello'" and all that sort of crap. So too was the athlete I was trying to help. I needed more. I needed something with meaning.

Then, just about the time I was about to give up and order him to suck it up, I stumbled upon the above picture. It made my day (punk), and it would make all the difference, because we all know that if Tony Little can't motivate you, it's only because you're dead. My athlete (Disclaimer: I hate the saying "my athlete", but you get the drift) immediately unearthed his inner desire to kick some ass and take some names.

If you ever find that you could do with some external motivation, don't turn to the bible or to a lame one-liner or to some rockin' heavy-metal song written by a generically-named band of misfits. Just ask yourself, "What would Tony Little do?" My guess is he'd stare at a picture of himself and find plenty of motivation, just as you assuredly will too. Now get out there and suck it up! Live strong. Just do it.

I'll be back.

Good Coaches / Great Coach

There are good coaches and there are great ones. There are also quite a few bad ones, but no need to go there right now. I do not care to perish from writer's cramp.

I'd like to think of myself of a good coach. Not just because those I've coached have said so (truth is, most of them don't even bother...the bastards) but because I've learned a lot from great coaches, and an equal amount from not-so-great ones. I've even learned a lot from the bad ones.

Incidentally, I'm not speaking about good businessmen, the bane of the coaching profession. I'm speaking about COACHES: those who work WITH their athletes and not just for the sake of an income...or notoriety. I could pull out my hunt-and-peck trigger finger and name names, but again, that damn writer's cramp thing petrifies me.

Anyhow, lately I've been in contact with a number of coaches, for a number of reasons. No, I haven't been to one of those absurd coaching conferences where wannabe coaches seek their coaching credentials (which, by the way, CANNOT be had in a some silly little weekend-long seminar or conference, but let us neglect that for now). I've been talking to other coaches not to learn or to teach but to talk about athletes, the real reason we coach (or, at least they should be.)

One coach I've been in touch with is, in my mind, the preeminent multisport coach, the mentor nonpareil. He has coached more champion triathletes than any other triathlon coach in existence, maybe more than all of the rest put together! If you don't already know who I mean, you should. He coached the gal who has been victorious in the last two Hawaii Ironmans, the sport's premier event.

Brett Sutton really doesn't require an introduction and so I'll get to my point in why this all came to be.

Team TBB, the team of champion professional triathletes, and aspiring champions (soon-to-be champions, that is), which is in part spearheaded by Sutton, was in quest of finding their newest talent. As it was, I happened to be coaching that talent, one Angela Naeth. If you follow this blog, you might already know of her.

I've been more than delighted to present Angela with a swift kick in the arse and point her toward the boss, as I possess no ego when it comes to coaching (after all, I do not coach for me). Moreover, I fully realize that Doc, as he's generally known, is a much better coach than me. I also know that Angela will learn more under his wing than she has under mine, which, quite sincerely, has been a fair amount. But when you're under the wing of the best in the business, you really learn to fly. This is why I've told her not to miss this opportunity. Not that she's been balking at it or anything!

In just three weeks she will stuff her AVIA-painted Cervelo into her aging bike box and head toward the Philippines, an alluring island country I've "extensively" backpacked through in my youth and the same place Team TBB holds several of their triathlon camps. I too may very well make the journey, but not until a small posse of pro triathletes have settled here in rural Santa Barbara County and I've shown them around and given them their orders. They will not be without my services for long, perhaps just a week or so, but like Angela, I too would be foolish not to go touch base with the legend and see what it takes to be a champion in this day and age. It was nearly ten years ago since I could last declare myself as such and though things have probably not changed all that much since then, it's always nice to continue expanding your education. Truth is, I won't bother the man; he'll have his hands full with his new rookie crop. Besides, I'll probably be backpacking. There are 7,107 islands in the Philippines and I've only stepped ashore on six of them ("extensively", my ass). 7,101 left to go before I die.

So there you have it. I am developing into a sort of farm league trainer for the great one. I hope to further develop my ties with Doc and perhaps even propose a few ideas. Not in coaching, mind you, but in business. I guess I myself can be a businessman from time to time! It's scary but at the same time feels pretty good. Exciting, in fact.

Here's to Angela, future champ! Get ready for takeoff...

Mix it Up

In a recent blog I spoke of trimming the fat in training---eliminating the excess (i.e., "junk mileage")---all the meanwhile monitoring the effects it may bring forth. If doing away with any excess appears to have a negative consequence then the removed volume cannot really be considered as such. Conversely, if eliminating the excess appears to show little no change in your training results it may very well be deemed as excess.

It's important, however, to recognize that this seemingly beneficial effect may not linger long.

In other words, if a reduction of volume appears to allow you to maintain your current fitness level (thus assuring you that previous training volumes were indeed excessive), it's nonetheless critical to continue monitoring your performance levels. Fitness is seldom stagnant; it tends to fluctuate, more so when it is strictly intensity-based. This, incidentally, is a big part of why you see so many tough guys walking during the Ironman, like lambs to the slaughter; not only do they not know how to pace themselves on the day, but they possess little base on which to draw upon. It is also why the vast majority of professional endurance athletes incorporate a fair amount of time-consuming training into their routine. They know they need to be fast, but they also know they need to last. In an Ironman the first priority is to get to the finish line. The second is to get there as quickly as possible. The first is never an easy task. The second is tougher yet.

What's interesting about training volume is that one man's garbage is another man's treasure. The deal is that you need to recognize what can truly be considered a waste and what has value, as it pertains to YOU. While it's true that not all additional mileage has value, nor too does all extra intensity. And in order to truly know this (and to know when there is benefit to either/or) you have to come up with a way to objectively monitor your race-ready fitness. The paradox here is that racing won't do it; there are simply too many variables involved. Talk about irony, eh? I call it iron-y. If I were speaking half-heartedly or speaking about half-Ironmans I'd call it half-iron-y. But I don't do anything half-assed. I do it full-assed.

Thankfully, there are hundreds of other ways and means in which to measure your fitness. The problem is that not all pertain to your performance on race day. Remember, we're talking race-ready fitness here. A max power sprint may prove you're an absolute monster on the bike for all of twelve seconds but it hardly relates to how you're going to do six hours into your Ironman ride. You might as well go test how much iron you can pump there, Iron guy. (And while you're pumping iron I'll keep pumping irony.) The same goes for your mile repeats on the track. You may be faster for each of your three repeats, but, um, you're still twenty-three miles shy of your marathon performance. Even a functional threshold power (FTP) test is suspect. My FTP is higher than most but it rarely helped me at mile 75, when I required something more, something deeper.

The key that I'm trying to unlock here (assuming you can unlock a key) is that your monitoring tests (those objective evaluations that do away with emotion or subjectivity and attempt to limit the variables) need to relate to the event you're training for, and they need to be executed in the same exact manner for many, many months. Only then will you know that those junk miles are truly junk. Only then will you know that your high-intensity training is working for you. While it's true that high-intensity training educes the greatest number of physiological adaptations within your body, it's also important to realize that not all that "fitness" is relevant to your long day performance. For example, your quads need to be used to taking a beating for hours upon hours during an Ironman and the only way to prepare for that is to blend that high-intensity stuff with some long boring bouts.

When you train hard, an Ironman is easy for the longest time. But the harder you go, the longer it becomes.

When you train long, an Ironman gets a lot shorter. And the shorter it is, the faster you can go.

Mix it up.

I hope I haven't mixed you up.

PS: Incidentally, I don't believe in the whole notion of "junk miles", except for those you haven't done. But ultimately you need to ask what effect they had on your performance, to know whether or not they can be considered junk.

Add it Up

My dog ate my training diary. That's my excuse and I'm sticking with it.

"Why the need for the excuse?" you ask.

Well, over on the Endurance Corner forum Alan Couzens started a discussion on "year-end totals."

At first I scanned it a little too quickly and thought he'd written "rear-end totals," to which I thought, "Hmmm. I'm not quite sure what AC is going on about this time. Should I start weighing my poo?"

Never mind that I don't understand a lot of what Alan writes, which, incidentally, is why I like his blog so much. I learn things as I re-read them for the umpteenth time. Look people, his is a BLOG we should all read. I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again. While I tend to ramble on about this or that (or both this and that) he throws together some factual information with an educated opinion on what he makes of it all. You see, he has access to a fine lab and runs all kinds of tests in that lab. It's hard not to trust the man and truth be told he's had an effect on how I advise some of the athletes I coach. Okay, enough schmoozing.

But this time AC brought up a topic I always find so amusing...those rear-end totals. Oops, I mean year-end totals.

I looked through what most athletes said they had done in 2008, that wacky year that just ended. Whether or not these people actually accomplished the year-end totals they claimed to have, I don't know. Some folks said they did a lot. Others said they didn't do much at all. The numbers are all there if you're interested in taking a gander (Endurance Corner is by invite only so you'll have to ask for one and I shall send it; it's that easy. Be sure to schmooze some first though. One never tires of hearing how great he is, even when he knows he's not.)

Anyhow, the whole thing got me thinking and after Trevor shot me an e-mail, I responded to him by writing...

I think most people like to compete against others with their training numbers and not just when it counts. "Hey, look what I did!" they boast. But when you ask how their season went (that is their RACE season) the answer usually isn't quite as boastful.

Modesty perhaps?

One thing these numbers do show is great consistency. To have decent year-end numbers, there is no other way. And consistency is one of the key ingredients in finding success in endurance sports. But, in and of itself, consistency means nothing. We train to race, remember? Because if not, it ain't really "training."

I went on...

Truth is Trev, as a coach I'm less concerned with an athlete's race results than I am with what I think is even more important...and that is whether the athlete has done his or her best. The more often an athlete does this (monthly, weekly, daily, hourly) the better they'll perform against others. Of course, the real race is against you and only you.

I think Trevor got it. I hope anyway, 'cause I'll soon be coaching him and his Ironman-winning wife down here in Lompoc.

I guess my point is to go ahead, if you must, and add those numbers up...

"Add it up. See what you got..." --The Violent Femmes
(The Violet Femmes are mandatory listening, by the way)

Brag if you care to (I didn't train at all last year, though I ran, swam and biked some). But know that such numbers only appease our inner desire to make sense of things when in fact, there is far more (and far less) to those numbers than what you're trying to make them represent. (In this vein, see my most-ever read the True Meaning of Miles blog for more about numbers and "miles." There are a lot of worthwhile follow-up comments following it, though the truth is I didn't count.)

Okay, my brain hurts. Writing is almost as tough as adding it all up.