December 2007 Archives

Time again for the annual JMM Alumni Meet. Talking with my coach friend and classmate about how old we're getting, he asked what made us feel older: the fact that this is our 13th meet as an alumni, or the fact that the youngest kids I coached in high school are now alumni. Age aside, these meets have enough meaning, that if you haven't kept yourself in shape, you tend to pull yourself out to prevent embarrassment. Even us older guys try to keep in shape, and I consider this an important meet every year. In the build up since October, I had some excellent training sessions, showing some speed that got me psyched.

Every year I swim the 500-yard freestyle with the junior varsity. I swam sprints in high school, but because I know of no triathlons with a 50-yard swim leg, I've concentrated on the longest swim available to me. The toughest part of the meet for me is the warm up. The 500 is deep into the meet, usually an hour or more after the start. There is a ten-minute break two events before, so I got really loose during the formal warm-up and got back in for a few 100-yard strong swims at the break. I actually felt strong at the end of the break.

Behind the blocks, my junior varsity competition looked like they were fifth grade. Last year, every one smoked me by twenty seconds. I expected the same this year, so I tried to keep within myself and swim my own race. Jason said to follow my "easy speed," the speed based on adrenaline at the start of a race. The plan was to maintain a nice even pace and start to kick and ramp things up for the last seven lengths. Numerically, the goal was to open with 1:05 for the first 100 and follow up with 1:07s to finish around 5:35. Jeremy agreed to count and would keep me on pace if he could help it.

The start was quick and I was up and feeling good right away. To my surprise, I was out in front, scaring me that I was going too fast and would eventually blow up. After the first 100, Jeremy signaled to me that I went out in a 1:04. That and the thought of going out in front of everyone still was in the back of my head, so I dialed it back. I held that for the next 250 and then kicked it in when I saw the 13 on the lap counter. I built up the effort the rest of the way in. At the flip at 375, my arms were into some serious lactic build up. Mentally, this is where I tend to relax in workouts, giving into the pain. I pushed off the wall, breaking through the mental walls that have grown in my head. One lap later, the starter's pistol shot off over the leader's (my) lane, shocking the crowd and reminding me that I have two lengths to go. One more 50 and I kicked hard, finally seeing the double orange. One final turn, and I pushed toward the last wall and a finish.

I got a nice round of applause from the crowd and was overwhelmed to see 5:19 on the wall. Except that wasn't my time. It was the 450 split of the lane next to me. I double checked the clock and saw my time of 5:36.22. I was still very pleased with that. It's a four-second PR of my "adult" career and nice confirmation of consistency and hard work. (For comparison's sake, a senior won the varsity race in 4:43.

Looking at the video (posted to YouTube soon) and taking splits, I dropped back too much on the 2nd and 3rd 100. But I finished strong and met my goal times. A nice way to finish a direction-less 2007. On to 2008.

Here's how my splits broke down:

And here's the video proof:

Since the Berbee Derby, I've tried to get into the pool at least three times a week. And now, after three weeks I had my first indication that consistency is the key to any kind of improvement.

My second swim of the week tends to be many repeated shorter, faster swims. This past Thursday it was 100s split with some pull 75s. The 100s were grouped by two, with each group faster than the one previous; six, then four, then two. I decided to keep the descend going across all 100s, so that the set of four started just faster than the last two of the group of six, and the last two 100s were faster than the last two in the group of four. I kept the pull swims as recovery, but kept to the prescribed breathing; every 3rd-4th-5th stroke by length. The first 100s started off easily enough. The last two, without really trying, ended up splitting out at 1:07s. I was a bit surprised because I was just keeping things long and strong at this point.

The next 4 100s started off at 1:05 and then I pushed the last two to 1:03. The four 75s were a nice relief, a great recovery to set up the last two 100s.

When I tire in swimming, my head drops, and I fail to finish my pull, cutting my stroke off, and I lose out on a lot of power. The last two 100s were going to challenge me. Everytime my head dropped, I picked it up concentrating on the far wall. Then, I had to remember to flick the water behind me, finishing each stroke. And what a difference it made. I managed a 1:01, and then, for the first time ever (in a workout since high school), a sub 1:00. I probably touched at 0:59.99, but I did see the x:59 on the clock, so it counts. I was stoked.

My newly found speed was confirmed Friday night. I figure I get in some long, steady swims. I warmed up with five 200s, building up the set to a nice strong pace. Then I set off on three 500s. I thought I would keep things at an even pace; something like 1:14 per 100 for 6:10 per 500. Well...I touched the first one in at 5:59. Hmmm...okay. Maybe I'll hold back on the second one.

But, that didn't work out that well. After each 100, I could see the clock and I was splitting about 5 seconds faster that I should be. But, I was feeling fine, so I went with it. The second 500: 5:55.

For the last 500, I threw out all the stops and just went for it. Except I wasn't going to think about out it. I wanted to practice dissociating my mind from my body. I didn't want to see the clock. I didn't wanted to know how bad it hurt. I didn't want any feedback. I only wanted to concentrate on the wall, my stroke, and put myself into my race at the end of the month. Like Steve Martin, "Let the mind go and the body will follow." The last 150 really hurt. I counted each turn at the far end like there was a counter there, showing the 15, 17, and eventually the double red signaling the last length. I hit the last turn hard and flicked the water behind me to the final wall. I looked towards the clock and let out a surprised grunt and guffaw to the shock of others in the pool. I think the lifeguard even heard me. The time I saw on the clock was five minutes and fifty seconds later that what it was when I pushed off. Way faster that I expected, but so welcomed.

I've got one more week of harder workouts, then I'll taper for a week up to the meet. That is, if it stops snowing between now and then.

I'm in a transition period of working out. I'm swimming when I can, but not doing too much else. I haven't run since Thanksgiving, and the bike's been on the rack since before then. Now that it's December it might be good to get back to some base training. So I figure shoveling yesterday's snow and last night's rain would be a good warm-up before getting on the bike this morning. It was a good warm up and then some.

One of the local meteorologists suggested to wait to shovel the snow until the freezing rain stopped. Because if you shoveled the snow before the freezing rain, you'd have a slippery, dangerous layer of ice. But, if you waited, then the ice would just get shoveled away with the snow. A nice concept until the rain soaked through the snow and ended up as ice under the snow. Add to that the heavy foot traffic compacting it all even further.

All of this snowballed into very heavy shovel loads. Each scoop ranged from 20 to 40 pounds, depending on the water content. After a good hour of this, I moved from our sidewalks to our car. Parked in the street, the plows show no mercy to the cars and casually drive by, piling even more snow up against the doors and wheels. After another half-hour of digging around the car, I was done.

I estimate I cleared over hundred full shovel loads. At an average of 25 pounds per, that's over 2500 pounds! Over the course of shoveling, I removed two layers of clothes, exchanged my stocking hat for one that I wear running, and switched from my heavy gloves to lightweight ones. I decided not to get on my bike just yet.