Hey Coach!

I'm heading off to a USAT Coaching Clinic this upcoming weekend.  I thought long and hard about signing up - did I really want to start coaching people?  Did I think I could really help somebody become faster, more efficient, and improve?  I think I can.  While I've been self-coached (mostly) for most of my triathlon career, I did swim competitively up into the college ranks.  I've been coached by a number of individuals, and I'd like to think that I know what to do, what not to do, and how to work with people to get the most out of their time.  I've trained with a lot of top-flight athletes, a number of whom have qualified for Kona, and know what their time, training, and sacrifices have entailed.  All of this information hasn't gone to waste.

I've actually built 1/2 Ironman training plans for a number of individuals.  I have to say I really had a good time creating them.  I found it fascinating to delve into their previous performances so I could better understand their abilities.  I enjoyed working with them to get an idea of what their schedules look like, how much time they could devote to training, and how this all impacted their overall goals.  It was actually quite a bit of fun working with them to understand their running and swimming pace so I could formulate speedwork on the track, and targeted swimming workouts.

Building an overall training plan, with periodization, pull back weeks, and taper, as well as incorporating strategically placed races, is more complicated than I originally thought.  There's a nice challenge that goes along with this process.  No two plans are alike.  Sure there may be a template that is used, but to do things correctly there's a lot of personalization involved.

What I found to be the critical piece of the training puzzle was working with these individuals to incorporate training into their real-life existence.  These folks work for a living.  One has multiple kids. Training has to be scheduled into windows of opportunity.  Quality workouts need to be the norm.  As I work full time, and train in whatever spare time I can muster during the week, I found that a key to building these plans was understanding how much time was available for training.  Then, and only then, can a truly personalized plan be formulated.

I just don't see how, via some coaching services I've seen online, filling out a web-form with minimal information can yield a detailed training plan that is tailored to the individual.  A cookie cutter approach isn't the best solution here.  There are of course some coaching services that are detailed and thorough, but some just don't look to be worth the price of admission.

But I digress.  At the end of the day, it's thrilling for me to see people get excited about training for a big race.  To listen to someone become animated, looking forward to long brick workouts, four hour training rides, and speedwork, is really satisfying.

As I said, I've built some 1/2 Iron plans. My biggest challenge to date, however, is building a training plan for my wife.

JL asked me to build a sprint triathlon training plan for her.  Not a problem!  This was going to be great, as I know what her paces are, I know what her schedule is, and I can easily customize a plan for her for the summer race she's targeting.  This was before she decided to take most of the winter off from training.  So, I'm going back to the drawing board on this one.

Looking at the agenda for the upcoming clinic it looks like a very full 3 days of training this weekend.  I'll try to provide an overview of the sessions when I return next week.

Managing Life and Triathlons

I read a good post the other day on TriCrowd.com.  It was titled When Life gets in the way of Tri (click the link and give it a read) and it reminded me of the time-management, structure, and sometimes sacrifice that can be required for triathlon training.

Unlike the author of the post, I don't have kids.  While that makes it much easier for both me, and my wife, to train and race, I do work full time.  I'm not sponsored to race, or independently wealthy enough to work part time (or not at all) and train full time (reminder to play the lottery tonight).  What this means is that longer workouts during the week require starting the ride or run du-jour early in the day.  Usually in the dark. 

I remember fondly (yes, fondly) my training for the Toughman 1/2 Iron triathlon just a summer or so ago.  I needed to get long brick workouts into my schedule, and for some strange reason my brick days fell on Thursday mornings.  (For anyone who isn't quite sure what a brick workout is, check out this link from Ironman.com on brick workouts and training).  To get in the workout I needed - a 45+ mile bike ride, followed immediately by a 6+ mile run - I would set my alarm for 330a.  Some toast and peanut butter, a banana, a little coffee.....air in tires, bars and gels in the jersey pockets, water bottles filled with a mix of  Perpetuem and Sustained Energy, and I was out the door by 400a. 

Upon returning home from the ride, and then subsequently the run, I'd log my workout, shower, get dressed, eat a giant bowl of cereal or 3 or 4 eggs and toast, and be downtown in my office by 900a.  Usually Thursday nights were a very low key affair.  After dinner it was a guarantee that I'd be asleep on the couch by no later than 800p.

Even on the weekends early start times are still the norm.  On the road for a Saturday long ride by 700a at the latest.  Home by 1100a or noon.  Sunday long runs guarantee a couple of hours on the road or trails.  And this is only for a half Ironman.  Even without kids, I'm not sure how I'd double things up to do a full Ironman.  There's just not enough hours in my day.  Well, that's not true.  There are.  People do it all the time.  It just requires more discipline and time-management.  A few people from my triathlon club went to the world championships in Kona last year.  One is a guidance counselor at a elementary school in Connecticut.  You can read about his training in this article.

Triathlons require structure, dedication, and a lot of drive and desire.  They sometimes require sacrifice.  I think it's worth it.

Back in the pool - First workout in over 3 weeks

My first workout post injury is in the books.  This past weekend I was able to get to the pool and managed around 30 minutes of swimming.  Yeah, only 30 minutes. 

Upon getting in the water I wasn't comfortable at all and this was a little disappointing.  It took about 5 to 10 minutes for my ankle to loosen up enough so that I could swim somewhat normally without constantly thinking about it.  It was amazing to really feel what sort of flexing goes on in that joint even when not kicking.  Just the natural friction and resistance from the water was enough to make me well aware of how tight my ankle is.

I couldn't use a pull buoy.  My ankles kept clipping together and I can't use my left leg to push off the wall.  This was working out really well so far.  So I resigned myself to just letting my left leg drag behind me while my right leg did as much kicking as I could manage.  It took a lot of effort to keep my body streamlined.  My core muscles were engaged the whole time trying to keep my legs from sinking.  It was tiring.

In the end I felt pretty good.  I didn't get in nearly as much swimming as I would have liked, but as the pool became a little crowded I cut things short as I was being overprotective of my leg and was unnecessarily afraid of some kind of collision occurring.  It felt great to be in the water, though.  I'm sure that as things progress at physical therapy I'll be able to increase the intensity in the pool (flip turns will still out for a while) as well as the duration.  I think that as soon as I begin to get some strength back I'll be much more comfortable in the water.

Next up: the bike trainer.  I'll be chatting with my physical therapist tonight and might give a short, no resistance, spin on the bike trainer a shot in the near future.  Here's hoping my ankle doesn't blow up like a balloon.  I might actually have to show some patience and restraint.

Commuting in NYC with a Broken Ankle

Well, it's not really broken anymore.

Suffice it to say, getting around while on crutches is the toughest part of this recovery.  Well, that and the fact that I'm not able to currently run or ride.  Not being mobile is really frustrating.  Please don't get me wrong, I know there are people out there that deal with being physically challenged every day - and they manage it famously.  I applaud them for their perseverance and tenacity in getting around New York City without blinking an eye.  I, however, am having a difficult time with this.

Normally, on any given day, once I've arrived at Grand Central Terminal (coming in off the Metro North commuter rail) I can walk to my office in just under 15 minutes.  If the weather is bad I can take the subway and if I'm lucky in my timing I can be at my office in just under 10 minutes.  This past week my commute from Grand Central Terminal to my office, via the subway, took upwards of 40 minutes.  I had a learning curve as I navigated the New York subway system looking for elevators, ramps, and handicapped facilities.  There were a couple of times where I was forced to navigate stairs as not all subway entrances are equipped for wheelchairs, and to get around one needs to navigate to an alternate subway entrance and backtrack.  Being impatient, the stairs seemed quicker at the time.  In hindsight I'm not so sure.

Save for being exhausted, and a bit sweaty, navigating the mass transit system isn't all that terrible.  It's just overly time consuming.  For the most part people are accommodating and patient as I try to stay out of everyone's way.  My fear of navigating the subway being on par to participating in the 'Running of the Bulls' in Pamplona was thankfully proven wrong.  Well, not exactly.  If I avoid rush hour, it's not too bad.

There was, however, one trip this past week where I had an interesting experience.  I boarded the Metro North commuter rail train, one towards the end of the morning rush hour to avoid the heavy crowds, and was greeted with a very full, standing room only, rail car.  This isn't uncommon on the Metro North lines as anyone who frequents the trains  can attest to.  But I was now faced with balancing on my right leg for most of the trip down to the city as I can't yet put a lot of weight on my left leg.  I stood in the vestibule, grabbed one of the railings, and waited for the train to start moving.

A few minutes into the trip I wondered if anyone would potentially offer me their seat.  Now, let me preface this with I didn't really need to sit down.  I'm not in pain, I'm not in a hard cast, and I can at least put my left leg down to help balance myself.  My fear, though, was should the train stop in a hurry or lurch to the side if we changed tracks quickly, I would have been hard pressed to stay stable.  Anyway, short version: Nobody offered me a seat.  Lots of people looked at me, looked at my crutches and walking boot, and then went back to their reading or what-not.  A couple people even made eye contact - some on more than one occasion - and turned away with a sheepish look.  One woman did wave to me from her seat and motion to me, asking if I wanted to sit.  I declined.  First because I just didn't feel that it was necessary to take a seat from an elderly lady.  Second, she was in the far middle of the rail car, and there were people standing in the aisles.  In a moving train, that's like an obstacle course.  I never would have made it there without causing some level of carnage.

Was I irritated at this whole scenario?  A little.  I'll admit, had the younger guy who couldn't stop looking at me during the trip offered his seat - which was about 2 feet from where I was standing - I would have taken it.....well, maybe.  Honestly, had most of the folks in the vicinity offered their seat I most likely would have smiled and said "thank you, but I'm fine".  It would have been nice to have had the offer made, though.  It would have reinforced my belief that people are genuinely good and somewhat thoughtful.   My theory on the non-existence of, for lack of a better term, chivalry?  I think that when people looked up they saw a fairly fit person and perhaps made a judgment call on what they saw - and looked past the injury.

I guess what makes me curious is that I'm not sure I know what demographic people are looking for before they offer up a seat.  What ailment, age, malady, or severity of injury is required?  Considering that each and every time I've been on the subway in the city people have asked if I wanted a seat, I found this all to be very interesting.

Physical Therapy Begins

As scheduled, physical therapy started up for me this week.  This past Wednesday and Friday were my first two appointments and, true to what my Orthopedist had stated, the focus for the first week or so is indeed on flexibility, stretching, and range of motion.

Each session has started out with some pretty standard stretching for my hamstring, achilles, and calf.  It's amazing how tight everything has become.  What's more amazing, and disturbing, is how much my left leg has atrophied in the 3 weeks since my accident.  I'd hazard a guess that I've lost about 1/3 of the muscle mass in my left calf.  It's really quite deflating to be honest.  I know that this will come back once we start doing some weight bearing exercises, but realizing how weak this leg has become is just an added mental strain.

The real fun of these first two sessions really starts when all the preliminary stretching is completed and the work on the ankle itself begins.  Ummm, ouch.  The areas where the tendons / ligaments were repaired are very tight, to put it mildly.  And the muscles that support the ankle are equally as tight - still in 'defense' mode, as my new best buddy, Garry the Physical Therapist, calls it.  When the muscles all contracted at the time of the accident - attempting to keep the ankle from being damaged - there was certainly some tearing of those muscles due to the force of the incident.  Now, they're sore, tight, and not all that willing to give up a lot of ground when it comes to moving my ankle.

My first session was pretty easy and I hobbled out of the office a little disappointed.  Not so much yesterday, however.  My ankle is still sore, and it was almost a full 24 hours ago that I had my 'workout'.  Gary did a his usual twisting, pushing, and pulling on my ankle, but he paid a bit of extra attention to the tendons and ligaments on the medial side of the joint.  I mentioned to Garry, half jokingly, that the procedures du-jour might have "left a mark".  I was quickly told that this is nothing compared to what's coming once we start weight bearing exercises at some point next week - and this all lasts for at least a month and half.  I've had a few people mention to me that the recovery process might be just about as painful as the break itself.  Based on my experience yesterday I'd have to say that there might be some truth to that assumption.

On the bright side, a lot of the fluid buildup in my foot and ankle is dissipating and I was able to see some improvement in the overall movement of the joint in just a few days.  I'm having a tough time keeping my impatience in check, though, as there's no way to fast-track this process.

I'm headed to the pool tomorrow to get in some laps and water walking.  I can't wait - I miss the cardio, and I'm hoping that I can keep up some base level of fitness while rehabbing.  In the meantime, I have a date with some Ibuprofen and an ice pack this morning.