Sunday, March 28, 2010

2010...A Season Start(s)

The triathlon season kicked off yesterday in fine fashion, at the Ironman California 70.32754. Moreover, Sonja finished her 100-mile run "race" in Moab, Utah. (The "race" is to see who can survive the 100-miles on foot, over some of the most rugged terrain imaginable). In fact, not only did she survive but thrive. She did it in 21-hours and change. But today she's hurtin' for certain. Her e-mail this morning sums it all up...

"I haven't hurt this month since child birth."

The things we do for love!

Congrats to Trevor for picking his way through the field as the race (CA70.3) wore on (and the others wore out), finishing 12th. This was what we called a training race and he did much better than I had anticipated, given a recent cold and the subsequent (and necessary) volume ramp-up. Just a few days ago he was laying down some hard training, as the big goal wasn't yesterday's event but Ironman Saint George in five week's time. Here's a guy who will come to surprise a few people before too long, but he and I both have high expectations, and rightfully so.

Brendan's situation is much the same. We chose this same event as a "trial run" before he too hits Saint George. A look at his results shows he was consistent across the board but needs more work in the water. And that he shall receive! As is my typical taper protocol for an Ironman, I decrease the running first, then the cycling volume, while the swim load actually increases right up to race day. If Brendan doesn't know about this, he will soon! It's nice knowing exactly what needs to be done to improve, though of course this doesn't make it any easier.

Angela out-rode all comers again on the bike, making her the fastest female on two wheels, though Heather was hot on her heels. Again, though, it's the water where work is required. It seems I coach fast cyclists but need to make them faster swimmers! (Maybe this is because their coach raced in a similar manner throughout the early stages his career, I know not.) This, by the way, is about as competitive a race that you'll see in pro triathlon. Only Kona gathers as many big names.

Evan also fits the above mold. He survived the swim, and was consequently forced to mow down (my words) the masses in his way! He just missed qualifying for Kona but had been debating whether he'd take his spot or not. It must be nice to debate things like this!

Lastly, but not leastly, I want to congratulate Micah on his 8K run race, in which he removed more than a minute from last year's time. This, by the way, is hard to do when you're already fast.

2010's season has started. So far, so good!

Thursday, March 18, 2010

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

FTP and UHOP

'Functional Threshold Power' is a term coined by a smart guy named Andy Coggan, Ph.D. Commonly abbreviated as "FTP," it is basically the highest power output you can sustain for an hour or so while pedaling a bike. Yes, it hurts.

It appears that many coaches like to estimate an athlete's FTP with various protocols and/or calculations (e.g., 2 x 20-minute time trials x .95 or some such nonsense, etc). They claim that an estimate is good enough in finding out what they need to find out---that good enough is good enough. But I say if you're going to half-ass it (no matter what "it" is), you might as well expect half-ass results. Full ass it! I've always figured that if you've got the fortitude to enter an Ironman, you best have the fortitude to do the full FTP and not just an abbreviated estimate.

Anyway, the primary reason these half-ass types claim an estimate is good enough is due to one inalienable truth: because doing an all-out effort for an hour hurts like a mofo. I liken it to sticking a six-inch replica of the Empire State Building up your…left nostril. OK, not really, but hurt it does (fortunately it elicits far more benefit than my pitiable pain example). This hurt must be real and not an approximation of pain; the whole meaning behind a "functional" "threshold" power test is to see what power you can sustain for an hour---an hour of power, regardless of your pain tolerance or lack thereof, you wimpy coaches and athletes.

(Incidentally, the reason I've encircled "functional" by quotation marks is simply because there's only as much function in one hour as you put into it. Is it a "functional" test for someone who hopes to time-trial for five hours, then run a marathon afterward? It can be. But just the same, methinks too many triathletes place too much stock in it. For example, what exactly is the significance behind an hour? Why not an hour ten? Or fifty-one minutes? The test's function---and functionality---is whatever we choose it to be.)

Moreover, since the human body knows no spot-on thresholds, the term "threshold" is also somewhat moot. There's considerable day-to-day variability in threshold power. (Yes, I've tested it...talk about hurt!) But the truth of the matter is that even a fluctuating threshold like your hour of power remains better than knowing no threshold at all. But don't worry: I'm not sitting here on the porcelain waste management system to sell you on power meters or the "need" for them, no. I'm here to wipe. Hold on.

Okay, excursus aside, all this talk came to be because about a week back I had Angela test her FTP. She rode one hour on the nose (it seemed a reasonable enough duration, arbitrary as though it may be) and on the nose of her saddle at 245 watts throughout. This is her current UHOP---Utmost Hour of Power (a better name, I think, than 'FTP', which really ought to be called UHOP or "maximal steady-state power")---and a very impressive one at that, particularly for someone weighing in at a buck fifteen.

Interestingly (at least to she and I), she only averaged a heart rate of 161, which is about 16-17 beats-per-minute lower than what it could have been (given the duration) and what we've witnessed in past UHOP tests. But of course heart rate is often quite variable from one occasion to another, even at constant pace or power outputs. (This does NOT make it a meaningless metric, however, since everything that affects heart rate affects YOU and ergo your performance, as you are what generates power or pace or weird thoughts, amongst many other "things.")

Her average cadence was 86, which I felt was too low given the power output and in light of the fact that we've recently moved her down to crank-arms 5mm shorter than what she had been riding. (More about this, possibly, in a future blog. Basically, we've seen some noteworthy power increases with shorter cranks, let alone the more obvious aerodynamic advantages of preserving the same hip angles with a lowered front end; I strongly urge you to read Dan Empfield's stuff on this.) So…

1) As workload increases, so too should cadence (remember: power is cadence x force upon the pedals). So, when Chrissie Wellington speaks of making the 2012 Olympics for the cycling time-trial, she'd best understand this, or ask for a special rear cassette to be made so she can grind at 70RPM in her 56 x 9.

2) As cranks get shorter, cadence is generally faster (though this depends entirely upon the athlete's brain and the speed at which the force applied).

Now, as coach, it's my role to set up subsequent training that allows her to increase this UHOP or "functional threshold" and everything around it ("everything around it" being the operative phrase).

By and large, FTP proponents believe that a high FTP equates to a high level of fitness at all intensities around it, and I do too.

To an extent.

You see, if daily training volume on the bike rarely exceeds one hour it is still possible that the athlete can possess a high FTP, even though said athlete probably lacks enough endurance to ride well for four or five hours. (Presently, I'm living proof of this.) We call this the Specific Adaptation to Imposed Demand(s), or "SAID," he said.

So it's important to understand that an hour of power is just that: a measurement of what you can do over that semi-arbitrary period of time. This is why estimates of FTP can only be considered approximations, and why FTP cannot accurately calculate power over, say, four or five hours. There are differences that occur over five-hour efforts than there are during one-hour efforts, and the length of time, besides being the obvious one, is not the only one. Think energy systems; think concentration (which is an important part of output the longer you go); think pacing (which is an important part of output no matter how long you go); think fueling (which is obviously an important part of pacing long durations).

Therefore, to aim for a specific percentage of FTP while doing an Ironman ride is to miss the point entirely. Why not just test your intended ride time power? (Here's why: because it's frickin' hard; at least that's what so many triathletes and coaches claim. But so what? So too is an Ironman, last time I checked. Toughen up, girlymen! Find some fortitude, dude.)

The end point is that an increased FTP proves fitness gains (though it could possible prove lots of weight gain), but those fitness gains do not entirely relate to much other than riding all-out for an hour or so. Still, it's worth testing and worth seeing. Especially when the triathlete has put in some serious volume (i.e., miles) to secure those gains. Then, not only will his or her UHOP be hopping along nicely, but so too will their longer, more "functional" efforts.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Art of War -- Triathlon Style

The Rules of Engagement

1) If you want post-race peace, be ready for war. You must prepare accordingly and carry out what the race and your race goals demand of you. As it is in the original Art of War, the will to win means nothing without the will to prepare. Victory belongs to those best prepared. Come to terms with this before you come to blows, or you will blow your chances.

2) Be sure you have secured the proper army of supporters to back you: confidants, guides, medics, scouts, and the like. Though triathlon is contested amongst individuals it is generally those with the greatest support network who rise to the top. Build your forces to the utmost or you will be fighting a losing battle.

3) Concern yourself only with yourself and your forces. Disregard the politics of war or what your adversaries claim to be doing, except when it furthers your cause (rarely does it further your cause). Utilize scouts if groundwork is deemed essential; focus upon your personal responsibilities.

4) Strive to be ego-free and humble. Laugh at yourself more than you do at those arrogant souls who take themselves too seriously and incessantly sound their battle cries. Then, so as to obtain the last laugh, be sure to quietly kick their ego-ridden ass. Let your performance stand on its own ass-kicking legs as you batter their battle cries into them.

5) Divulge nothing (e.g., training details; race plans; secrets; beliefs; principles, practices, etc). Reveal only that which returns to assist your cause. If a training partner can be of benefit, forge an alliance and share with them as they do unto you, and not a scintilla more. If not, abstain from the "assistance", as he may be an infiltrator.

6) Be intimately familiar with your competition, particularly that which lay inside you, but also in others. (This may sound incongruous with Rule #3 but it is not; you must know your competition's capacities and believe them to be comparable to yours.) Cultivate relationships in accordance with the aforementioned rule (Rule #5), with the understanding that ours is an 'every-man-for-himself' affair once the cannon is fired and war is waged.

7) Whether you win, lose or draw, respect your rivals. For it is when you least respect them, so too is it when you least expect them. In a historical perspective you must also respect those who've fought the hard-fought battles long before you. (This relates to the first seven words in the last line of Rule #9.) Moreover, you must absolutely respect those who will come to replace you; for if not, they will come to do so that much sooner. The bottom line: respect your competition, for without them, there can be no winner.

8) Be intimately familiar with every element of the battlefield: the rules, the swim currents and/or tide, the transition areas, the wind, the potholes, the layout of the land, the finish chute, the element of surprise, the potential problems, the possibilities...or you may end up a causality in the medical tent.

9) Nourish yourself accordingly: nutritionally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually, and cognitively. Put the "stud" in study; be a student of the sport and all that it entails. Learn from those who have "been there" and from those who have not.

10) Choose your battles carefully. Fight when all your reserves are in place. Entering a war ill-equipped to defend yourself may precipitate your demise, if not engender post traumatic stress disorder. Know precisely why you are fighting and what you are fighting for. If you fight merely to preserve ego (by "cherry-picking" for example) know that you're ego is not prepared for the true hardships of battle. (See #4 above.)

11) Choose your weapons wisely. Be intimately familiar with each of them, but do not overestimate their need. Use your internal weaponry and aim high.

12) Play fairly when winning or while being monitored by race marshals! Humor aside, you must strive to fight the good fight, both in deliberate practice and on the battlefield.

13) NEVER apologize for waging war. Whether victory is all but lost or completely secured, be sure to fight for all you are worth. The corpses of your enemies always smell sweet. Pummel them all.

14) Limit your mistakes, for they may be fatal. Understand too that he who has committed no mistakes has not fought for very long; exploit him.

15) Finally, you must come to terms that the war will not---and does not---last forever. It is an ephemeral affair, and one day (soon) you may come to miss fighting the good fight. Fight hard. Fight well. Fight to the bitter end. (Do all this and there shall be no bitter end.)

PS: It's a long way to the top.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The Desert Classic Duathlon

This weekend's Desert Classic Duathlon was not your typical run-bike-run race. Ma Nature had Her say in the matter and made it more of a race of attrition. A sizable number of the competitors decided not even to go that far and never showed up to to fight the good fight. I don't blame them, honestly. The "problem" in their eyes (and mine) was the weather. In a word, sh!tty. The fancy readout in my yet-to-be-recalled Toyota rental car said it was 48-degrees at race start. The rain was obvious enough and the car's windshield wipers looked borderline hyper; they needed to be just to see out the damn windshield. I personally thought the wind would be the big challenge but few athletes made mention of it.

The two athletes I guide who were competing are from Montana and Canada and so to each of them, Brendan Halpin and Angela Naeth, the weather was a non-factor. In fact, neither even uttered a word about it prior to the race; as a coach this is something I love to hear (even though I never heard it!). Their PMA (positive mental attitude!) showed at race's end, with Angela finishing in third behind Sam McGlone and Michellie Jones (beating a few other big names) and out-riding all but a few men (bike sponsors take note) and with Brendan's 6th place finish.

Brendan, it's worth noting, competed on a road bike without any fancy wheels or handlebars (i.e., not a tri-bike, as his sponsor is slow in getting his to him; I might have to go bang some head for him) and he was about as aerodynamic as a barn when I saw him fly by. Still, much like the weather, this didn't faze him one iota and he hung on to earn a small amount of cash, a pretty good way to kick off the year. Neither of them has had a single workout this hard just yet, making their results that much more impressive. Base miles work.

As a spectator/volunteer I suffered as much as I ever have. Not from the desire to compete (as per usual) but from the conditions. I ran beside some folks not just to encouragement but also to warm myself up. It didn't work, though the encouragement seemed to.

A few things I learned about the race, sport and duathlons in general:

1) Duathlons are FAST events and a great measure of your overall speediness. Sam McGlone won the women's race and will win Ironmans galore before her career is over. To win, whether long or short, you need to be fast. Slow athletes may be strong, but they will never win.

2) The best athletes are unfazed by the harshest of conditions. I now see why I never became one of them and I can see why some athletes will.

3) The desert is absolutely stunning (minus the part with all the buildings and roads). So much so that I've decided to coach there next winter/spring and depart "sunny" Solvang. Brendan: start finding me a place!

4) The Desert Classic is a GREAT event, with great volunteers (though they did enlist my help, so not all the volunteers qualified as such). If you want a good early-season test, this is the one. A surprising number of fast athletes show up every year.

5) It's hard to drive 11 hours after standing around in the rain for a few hours. Next year's drive will be much easier! I can hardly wait!