Monday, February 7, 2011
Tip of the Day: Tape over the CPSC sticker in your helmet
Santa proved his passion for aerodynamics this Christmas with delivery of a Giro Advantage II. His knowledge of fluid dynamics must be how he manages to pull off so much traveling during the Christmas season. If you look at your own helmet, you'll hopefully notice a CPSC sticker which proves that it has met the legally required safety standards. There are some race officials out there (*cough* Eagleman *cough*) that I have heard have DQ'd race participants on the grounds that their helmet did not have the CPSC sticker inside it. Do yourself a favor, as I did, and take some clear packing tape and cover these stickers. It could keep you from a gnarly race-morning surprise from an over-zealous race official with an inferiority complex.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Norseman 2010 Video
As penance for my extended absence from writing on this blog, please check out this phenomenal video about the Norseman triathlon, something that should be on every long-course triathletes bucket list:
Principles of Training: Working to Quota
In studying for a final exam in Systems of Human Behavior, I came across an interesting principle of therapy that can be readily applied to triathlon training. Here's a quote from Dr. Seitz's advanced text, Behavioral Medicine made ridiculously simple:
"When physical activity is involved, the therapeutic concept of working to quota is important. After determining an exercise baseline (e.g. five sit-ups a session), thepatient triathlete is then required to start slightly below this baseline and exercise each day until he reaches this target or quota, rather than stopping when he feels pain (i.e. working to tolerance). The quota is then raised gradually. Working only to tolerance keeps a patient triathlete a slave to his "pain bell" (i.e. when pain occurs, activity stops). In contrast, working to quota shapes him to higher levels of physical performance (and less pain)."
A beautiful, and painful, example of this principle can be found in my treadmill running. Recently, I discovered a Woodway Treadmill at our local YMCA and it was love at first sight (you can check them out here, they're phenomenal. I have no connection to the company, I just love that treadmill). Many readers may be familiar with the concepts of aerobic and anaerobic threshold. Somewhere between my aerobic and anaerobic threshold lies a 'pain threshold' up to which the pain I feel while running incrementally increases until plateauing. One day recently I was running with a friend who was on an adjacent treadmill, and I found myself pushing through quite a bit of pain to put in a fast time. Checking my heart rate, I expected it to be quite elevated, maybe 170 bpm. Imagine my surprise when it was 147. In that moment I'd learned (or re-learned, at least) that there is a difference between what I can run comfortably and what I can run, and one of the greatest assets a fast runner can have is a pronounced ability to tolerate pain.
The connection between this scenario and the ''working to quota'' concept is simple. Perceived exertion can be an excellent tool to determine workout intensity, but it isn't always the best metric for designing a workout. If you compete in triathlons for fun, then by all means hop on the treadmill and set it to a comfortable pace. But if you're aiming to get faster, take that dial, crank it up until you hit the pain level and then break the switch off and just hold on. Just like you need to be a little bit hungry to lose weight, you need to push yourself to get faster, and pushing yourself needs to extend beyond the realm of 'comfortable.' Rather than using the pain bell as an alarm that it's time to dial back, maybe just for some workouts, the pain bell should be a sign that you're just getting started.
"When physical activity is involved, the therapeutic concept of working to quota is important. After determining an exercise baseline (e.g. five sit-ups a session), the
A beautiful, and painful, example of this principle can be found in my treadmill running. Recently, I discovered a Woodway Treadmill at our local YMCA and it was love at first sight (you can check them out here, they're phenomenal. I have no connection to the company, I just love that treadmill). Many readers may be familiar with the concepts of aerobic and anaerobic threshold. Somewhere between my aerobic and anaerobic threshold lies a 'pain threshold' up to which the pain I feel while running incrementally increases until plateauing. One day recently I was running with a friend who was on an adjacent treadmill, and I found myself pushing through quite a bit of pain to put in a fast time. Checking my heart rate, I expected it to be quite elevated, maybe 170 bpm. Imagine my surprise when it was 147. In that moment I'd learned (or re-learned, at least) that there is a difference between what I can run comfortably and what I can run, and one of the greatest assets a fast runner can have is a pronounced ability to tolerate pain.
The connection between this scenario and the ''working to quota'' concept is simple. Perceived exertion can be an excellent tool to determine workout intensity, but it isn't always the best metric for designing a workout. If you compete in triathlons for fun, then by all means hop on the treadmill and set it to a comfortable pace. But if you're aiming to get faster, take that dial, crank it up until you hit the pain level and then break the switch off and just hold on. Just like you need to be a little bit hungry to lose weight, you need to push yourself to get faster, and pushing yourself needs to extend beyond the realm of 'comfortable.' Rather than using the pain bell as an alarm that it's time to dial back, maybe just for some workouts, the pain bell should be a sign that you're just getting started.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Today's Run: The Road to Chong Fah Waterfall
While doing some focused training in Thailand, I came upon a beautiful, winding road comprised of gentle rollers meandering through groves, orchards, and jungles. I brought along a camera on today's run and thought I would share some photos:
The run starts out level before moving into the jungle-clad hills
Pam trees and power lines serve as an apt metaphor for Thailand's juxtaposition of rampant development and natural beauty
One of the many orchard-lined sections during the run.
Little buckets for collecting tapped rubber hang from the trees (not visible in this photo)
Some lilies in blossom with purple flowers complement two buildings associated with one of the larger estates
I saw four cars on the 12km/7.4mi run. Must've been rush hour on the very low-traffic road.
The orchards give way to dense jungle as the road climbs gently into the hills
The view to my left
The view to my right
When I first ran this road and saw the concrete give way to dirt, you should've seen the smile on my face
With the more remote dirt road comes some excellent views
Dirt roads lead to some of the best places
The jungle asserts itself
A beautiful outlook just before the turn-around point
Perspective shot
The road offers up a return to asphalt and I very begrudgingly accept
Friday, June 11, 2010
Want to Achieve / Maintain Race Weight: Go Green
It's a secret Ancient Chinese triathletes have held for centuries- Green Tea.
A couple years ago, my house mate and I were on our first grocery run before our final year of college. We were making scrambled eggs and fruit smoothies each morning, and as we were headed towards the cereal aisle, something caught Brian's eye-
"Hey, we should get some green tea. What do you think?"
"Brian," I replied, my voice dripping with disdain for the beverage, "when was the last time you licked a leaf and thought to yourself, 'Hmm, if only this taste could be harnessed in a beverage...' "
Soon the gauntlet of calorie-bombs that we call the 'Holiday Season' was upon me, however, and I was looking for something to replace / punish those dessert cravings. As an experiment, I'd implemented a diet strategy that I called, 'Operation: Dessert Storm,' where I would eat nothing 'unnecessary,' meaning, I would abstain from anything like desserts or soda and eat reasonable portions of healthy food. The project was a success, and substituting a cup of green tea for, say, a tempting Mtn Dew up for grabs in the fridge, was a great way to keep my intake healthy and keep off those unwanted holiday pounds.
The widely-held but often unproven health benefits of green tea were seen by me as something of a potential bonus. Given the knowledge that I've acquired within physiology, I knew that green tea consumption was not likely going to 'spike my fat burning metabolism,' or, 'specifically reduce stomach fat.' Recent research even indicates that substantial intake of antioxidants doesn't benefit the endurance athlete as the by-products of exercise -including free radicals - are necessary to induce the physiological repair that leads to greater fitness. Given the articles on popular 'health' websites, though, one would think that green tea can not only fight free radicals and burn fat, but can also cure cancer, clean up the oil spill tragedy in the Gulf, and divert asteroids headed towards Earth. There are some well-supported health benefits of green tea that you can read about here, and that's right, it's a Wikipedia article.
A Green Tea Crème Frappuccino. Not the kind of green tea you should regularly incorporate into your diet
Not convinced and in need of a basic example of the benefit of incorporating green tea into your diet? Let's target soda. If you have one sugary soda about every three days, you'll have had 20 in two months and have added about 1 pound in bodyweight (~3,400 calories) and an incredible amount of sugar to your diet. 'But I drink diet soda,' you contend, which is zero calories and no sugar, it says right on the can. It's also filled with chemicals that have no place in a triathlete's body, including artificial sweeteners that may alter one's neurochemistry and increase the desire for sugar-laden foods, compelling you to dominate that nearby cupcake (here's an entry examining diet soda). If you look at soda and don't solely feel pure disdain, and have desires to be competitive in triathlon, I would challenge you to incorporate green tea into your daily regimen.
The previous statement doesn't apply to root beer, which is delicious.
If you find yourself too frequently indulging in calorie dense treats, drinking sugary beverages, or even eating surplus amounts of healthy food, I would challenge you to incorporate green tea as a healthy, or at the very least, health-neutral, replacement.
------
Final aside: The Green Tea Frappuccino - or, to be proper, the Tazo Green Tea Crème Frappuccino - at Starbucks is ironically chock full of calories, with a Grande, made with non-fat milk and without whip cream, registering at 290 calories. Apparently the Green Tea Crème is a little bit too heavy on the latter, and probably with good reason. With the six bitter cups I drank today as evidence, it takes that much cream to make green tea taste good. I may drink it as a purportedly healthy addition to my diet, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Introducing the ITU
The International Triathlon Union is not only the global governing body for the sport of draft-legal triathlon, it's also an endless source of incredible entertainment.
Draft-legal racing is wonderful to some and an abomination to others. The former view it as thrilling and spectator friendly, with road cycling pack tactics adding strategy and a whole new dimension to the swim/bike/run dynamic. The latter view it as an insult to the 'man vs. clock' time-trial nature upon which triathlon was founded, which pits individual competitors against each other without drafting during the bike leg (unless your race is in Florida).
Simon Whitfield takes a 'jump-off-the-couch-screaming-at-the-screen' intense sprint finish and $200,000 first place prize at the 2009 Hy-Vee ITU Elite Men's Race World Cup Event
photo courtesty of the ITU, source
I skipped the dilemna altogether by loving each. The ITU orchestrates World Cups and a World Championship Series each year, where the best olympic-distance athletes from each country battle it out in incredibly intense races to see who will take the top step on the podium. If I could wax poetic for a moment, I would summarize ITU racing as combining the beauty and strategy of road cycling with the intensity and adventure of triathlon. As a prime example, check out the video recap from one of the most recent events, the Elite Men's race from the World Cup in Seoul, South Korea. If this video doesn't get you excited to train, I don't know what will.
My hope is that, after you linked to that video, you became instantly engrossed and are now returning to this post 72 glorious hours later. Many a winter ride on the trainer has been spent with a book propped up on my aerobars so I could use my mouse to scroll from video to video of various World Cup events.
Much writing could be dedicated to ITU-racing, but I'll summarize the basics. Since drafting facilitates the formation of packs during the bike leg, a brutally fast swim is required for success in the discipline. Following the energy-sapping surges implicit in road cycling, with myriad sprints, turns, and efforts at quelling a potential break adding to the difficulty, those racing set off on 10 kilometers of blistering fast running, with top run splits regularly in the 30-minute range on accurately measured courses.
I find it to be incredibly exciting and definitely hope it also helps motivate you to get out the door and step it up a notch during your next workout.
"Excuses Don't Get Results"
It was a cold, rainy Sunday and I'd just arrived at the high-school track with Dan, a lifelong best friend to the point where we regard each other as a brother. The purpose of venturing out into the abysmal weather was for Dan to time me on some 400-yard repeats as I prepared for a PR in the mile during Track season.
We'd thought to bring along my family's three dogs to get them some fresh, if not overly moist, air. We didn't exercise much forsight, however, as we had to tie them up to a nearby fence. Though it was in their best interest- they'd invariably exhaust themselves in an attempt to join me on each interval - I still felt guilty with each plaintive bark I heard as they objected to their confinement.
After a short warm-up I ran the first 400. I was on goal time, but was wholly unmotivated. The rain was coming down at a steep angle... I was cold, wet ... the dogs were barking and I had the added guilt of making Dan endure the same conditions. Jogging over during what should have been a 100-yard recovery jaunt before the next interval, I told him I just wasn't feeling it, and relayed the aforementioned reasons that I was disinclined to continue.
Dan just looked at me, and said, "Excuses don't get results."
Just that statement, that was enough to flip that internal switch to 'on,' and after giving some quick attention to the dogs I set about completing the workout. I later went on to obtain that elusive PR in my target race, but the lesson I learned that day was much more important.
It's a simple truth. Excuses don't get results. There are reasons for a bad race, and then there are excuses. The difference is that one can learn from the former.
I had a bad race at an open water swim in Seattle a few years back. There was practically nothing to sight off of- that could be an excuse for my uncharacteristically poor showing. But in actuality, it was a universal factor that affected everyone and allowed those who'd refined their sighting, ability to swim straight, and prepared with goggles lined with anti-fog and confirmed not to leak (note: always bring a spare) to literally separate themselves from the pack. Rather than writing it off as a 'poorly designed course,' I learned from my mistakes and am a better open water swimmer as a result.
Avoiding the temptation to make excuses is not only an admirable quality, it allows us to learn from our mistakes and improve ourselves as a result. I'm not perfect in implementing the perspective, but I am trying.
Another bad race was at a Thanksgiving 10km, and potential excuses for my slow time abounded, from the steep hills to congestion from those walking the event. Ultimately, my extended stay out on the course was principally due to an unexpected resurfacing of my pain in my knee. An excuse? Or, is it a simple lesson in the rules of engagement. If you're recovering from an overuse injury and have only been running on trails, don't sign up for a 10km on asphalt. Take away lessons- increase rehabilitative efforts, incorporate running on roads into training if an upcoming race is on cement, add technique drills to improve biomechanical efficiency, and skip the traditional post-Thanksgiving dinner marrionberry cobbler a la mode to get lighter to ease the strain on joints while running on less forgiving surfaces. I'm very happy to say that I have, to varying degrees for different amounts of time, implemented each of those, and am running better as a result.
I'm not, as Dan will quickly tell you, anything near perfect at implementing this perspective, however. But the wise words he uttered that day have at least resurfaced frequently enough throughout the last decade to help keep me on track.
Final note- if you can't, learn how to change a flat tire quickly. I have embraced the perspective that any cyclist, unless detached from bike wrenching because their soigneur has the team mechanic take care of it, should be able to change a flat in just a couple minutes at most. A flat tire, though a very unfortunate event, is never an excuse, and if anything, is just an involuntary time to rest so you can ride faster and run harder.
We'd thought to bring along my family's three dogs to get them some fresh, if not overly moist, air. We didn't exercise much forsight, however, as we had to tie them up to a nearby fence. Though it was in their best interest- they'd invariably exhaust themselves in an attempt to join me on each interval - I still felt guilty with each plaintive bark I heard as they objected to their confinement.
After a short warm-up I ran the first 400. I was on goal time, but was wholly unmotivated. The rain was coming down at a steep angle... I was cold, wet ... the dogs were barking and I had the added guilt of making Dan endure the same conditions. Jogging over during what should have been a 100-yard recovery jaunt before the next interval, I told him I just wasn't feeling it, and relayed the aforementioned reasons that I was disinclined to continue.
Dan just looked at me, and said, "Excuses don't get results."
Just that statement, that was enough to flip that internal switch to 'on,' and after giving some quick attention to the dogs I set about completing the workout. I later went on to obtain that elusive PR in my target race, but the lesson I learned that day was much more important.
It's a simple truth. Excuses don't get results. There are reasons for a bad race, and then there are excuses. The difference is that one can learn from the former.
I had a bad race at an open water swim in Seattle a few years back. There was practically nothing to sight off of- that could be an excuse for my uncharacteristically poor showing. But in actuality, it was a universal factor that affected everyone and allowed those who'd refined their sighting, ability to swim straight, and prepared with goggles lined with anti-fog and confirmed not to leak (note: always bring a spare) to literally separate themselves from the pack. Rather than writing it off as a 'poorly designed course,' I learned from my mistakes and am a better open water swimmer as a result.
Avoiding the temptation to make excuses is not only an admirable quality, it allows us to learn from our mistakes and improve ourselves as a result. I'm not perfect in implementing the perspective, but I am trying.
Another bad race was at a Thanksgiving 10km, and potential excuses for my slow time abounded, from the steep hills to congestion from those walking the event. Ultimately, my extended stay out on the course was principally due to an unexpected resurfacing of my pain in my knee. An excuse? Or, is it a simple lesson in the rules of engagement. If you're recovering from an overuse injury and have only been running on trails, don't sign up for a 10km on asphalt. Take away lessons- increase rehabilitative efforts, incorporate running on roads into training if an upcoming race is on cement, add technique drills to improve biomechanical efficiency, and skip the traditional post-Thanksgiving dinner marrionberry cobbler a la mode to get lighter to ease the strain on joints while running on less forgiving surfaces. I'm very happy to say that I have, to varying degrees for different amounts of time, implemented each of those, and am running better as a result.
I'm not, as Dan will quickly tell you, anything near perfect at implementing this perspective, however. But the wise words he uttered that day have at least resurfaced frequently enough throughout the last decade to help keep me on track.
Final note- if you can't, learn how to change a flat tire quickly. I have embraced the perspective that any cyclist, unless detached from bike wrenching because their soigneur has the team mechanic take care of it, should be able to change a flat in just a couple minutes at most. A flat tire, though a very unfortunate event, is never an excuse, and if anything, is just an involuntary time to rest so you can ride faster and run harder.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



















