Florida = Tri-training Heaven

I am taking Spring Break every year!   Englewood, Florida is a beautiful gulf coast key with calm ocean beach on one side and docks and mangroves on the other, what better place to spend a few days.  Shall I go for a run among the live oaks with Spanish moss and palm tree estates?  No, I’d rather hike with armadillos.  But my dreams of an ocean swim were crushed by the freezing cold water temps.  But the support staff knows how to motivate; she waited until I was warmed up and dizzy from short-lapping it around the kiddy pool.  I made the mistake of mentioning the ocean again, “Well that’s why we came here isn’t it?” more laps, more grumbling, “Why don’t you just give it a try, you’re going to regret it if you don’t.”  I didn’t stand a chance.

Swimming in a cold ocean is really different.  In a lap pool all the focus is outward, looking through the water, avoiding the guy coming the other way, where’s the wall?  In the ocean, your senses close myopically, keeping your body moving, buoyancy means you don’t have to turn much to get a breath.  Then the focus turns to the thermodynamic battleground your body has become.  The cold seeps into the outer layer of flesh, held at bay by the furnace created by windmilling arms.  If you don’t kick much, the water seems warmed by the time it gets back there. 

I felt triumphant for my little 400m swim.  Then people on the beach kept commenting in hushed voices, “that’s the guy,” some even stood up from their chairs as I swam by.  I left the beach feeling like a real champ, like the harbinger of Spring—head on in, the water’s fine!

This motivational coup emboldened the support staff to ask for a promotion to trainer, but enthusiasm declined when responsibilities were outlined.  So, I am still looking for a roller-blading water carrier in a velour jumpsuit, any takers?  My one regret, that the current didn’t take me out to sea, so the support staff would have had to strip down to her bikini and save me...maybe next Spring Break!

Work week note: tri-training adds another layer of satisfaction to riding the fixie to work— a linen pant leg tucked into an argyle sox tucked into a brown suede shoe—if only all sport could be so dapper.

Long Time No Blog

Long gaps in blogging mean inconsistent training, but after being back at it a month I have the form I had prior to the snowpocalypse or powdermagedon thing. The (no longer) bearded training partner is a great motivation to get to the pool 2-3 times a week, and I am back to doing respectable workouts (3X300 or 2X400 yards or meters plus some shorter swims). Just this week, I seem to have found a rhythm that I can keep the whole way. When you are coordinating so many moving parts, it is a big help to have consistency and repeatability. I have a kicking rhythm that seems to work, two kicks on the non breathing side, one long/hard one on the breathing side. So it is lopsided, but seems to give me a little lift to get longer breaths prior to pushing the chest back into the water to lift the legs back up again. When I went for a 45min run last weekend, my body reminded me, for the rest of the week, never to take 3 months off running. I am tired enough from swimming, how are you supposed to train in multiple sports, seriously?

Next week it is off to FL where the support staff seems to think I should practice open water swims in the Gulf of Mexico. It sounds cold and scary but also a good idea. Mostly it is all about separating ourselves from our laptops and work—badly needed for state of mind and body.

I’ll give a serious try at a 900m swim when I get back. I almost felt like it today, but I didn’t want to practice bad form/frantic swimming toward the end. I have been mentally calming myself at the end of longer sets to stay in form and keep breathing steady. It is really good for your confidence to finish the last long set and not be out of breath.

This story of a tri-athlete resonated for me because the author also imagines the discipline of working out and success in racing will sort things out in other aspects of his life. I too thought the marathon was the key to resolving basic questions about myself, but as this author’s life shows, that is asking a bit too much of a race and perhaps not enough of yourself.