Back to Basics

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There have been a few things in my life recently that have made me spend some time evaluating what I really think is important.  And while most of the resulting thought has little to do with the subjects of this blog, at least a bit of it does.

Because fitness–in as much as it gives me the ability to wholly participate in and interact with this fabulous physical world of ours–is important.  And for me, because I’ve enjoyed so much personal growth at the hand of what I’ve termed ‘success enabled by suffering’, the level of fitness I seek is, at least by many people’s standards, relatively high.

The route--3 km lake, 22+ km river, 9 km lake

The route–3 km lake, 22+ km river, 9 km lake

But how high?  When it comes down to it, what level of fitness am I going to need to keep finding that optimum balance of having time and energy to focus on other aspects of my life while maintaining the physical and mental platform from which to keep chasing the benefits of epic challenges (like my latest effort, a swim between cities), and able to keep up with my two boys so that I can share in some of whatever (fingers crossed here) wild missions they come up with as they get older.

I wonder this because in the face of my recent evaluation, many of the motivations that have ordinarily sustained my drive to maintain a high level of fitness have all but disappeared.  I no longer feel very competitive.  The lure of forging this new and novel path–using HIIT to approach ultra endurance, has faded.

If my happiness depends somewhat on a minimum level of fitness, then by defining that minimum level I can simply use the minimum effective dose (MED) to get there and think less of training, and more of just living. And if/when my ambition returns, even if it does so spontaneously as it did last weekend with the swim, I’m well positioned to suffer my way through an epic adventure or two.

Basic Fitness Goals–to always be able:

  • Run a sub 6:00 mile
  • Swiw a sub 6:00 400 meter (open water)
  • Strength: Perform 90 seconds each for continuous tension (CTL) chins and push-ups.

Simple and easy as.

Too Much Ambition

ambitionI want to do a lot.  In fact, my head always seems to be full of big ideas–such big ideas and so many of them that I need to be like Michael Keaton in that classic 90’s film, Multiplicity (what, you didn’t think that was classic?). I recently felt so bogged down with all my big ideas that I made a list.  Now mind you, this isn’t just pie in the sky stuff–these are opportunities in line with my myriad passions that I  have the experience to actually work hard towards and see to fruition.  Just not all at the same time. And because I know you were about to ask what’s on this list of mine…here it is, in no particular order:

  1. Start the Fiordland Adventure Society (FAS), a non-profit group dedicated to doing all sorts of things, and act as the executive director.  What sort of things? How about:
    1. ‘Non-guided’ outdoor missions–packrafting, through running, ridge traverses, big swims, epic stuff like that.
    2. Put on events/races, like in #2
  2. Direct epic races.  I’ve got two ways to go here, either big and corporate, or small and grassroots (see #3).  My experience is small and grassroots, but some of my events, seeing as how they’re located in one of the most spectacular places on the planet (can you say ‘World Heritage Site?’) definitely have ‘Red Bull’ potential.  These include
    1. A swim run to rival Otillo
    2. A game changing triathlon
    3. A vertical mile that makes those ‘pipe runs’ look like a kids race.
    4. A ‘superhero’ swim
  3. NZ8 (1 of 1)Direct hardcore wilderness events. Like #2, but the grassroots version.  I’ve already got the name picked out–SCAR racing which stands for ‘Self-Containted-Adventure-Racing’.  These are either marked course events or navigation based ones where you start and finish with all your gear.  No transition areas, food drops, or medical staff.  Better bring your A game–triathletes need not apply.  I’ve got a number ‘planned’ already but the opportunities for new courses each year would span decades. Awesome.  
  4. Drop-ship racing.  As close to Pie in the Sky as this list gets, a variation of #3 where racers (in teams of 2) are helicoptered into the middle of Fiordland and must make their way back to civilization.  A version of this could instead have them head to an extraction point instead (called Drop Ship: extraction).  I can see reality T.V. show written all over this, if only I knew the right people…
  5. Pallet Houses. I want to learn how to build small houses/sleep-outs out of pallets and other recycled materials and then go around and teach other people  You didn’t think I only thought about racing and adventure did you?
  6. Adventure Racing Team. This could be part of the FAS–I’d call it FAST–Fiordland Adventure Society Team.  We’d focus on getting local youth into the sport and maybe have an adult team, because why should kids have all the fun?
  7. Personal Training–part of me wants to work harder at building training clients.  I could do this in two ways
    1. Locally–in conjunction with the personal trainer in town. I’d specialize in getting folks ready for events like the Kepler Challenge and the Milford Classic, following on with my success with Vaughn Filmer but maybe actually charge something.
    2. Web-based.  I’ve played around with this before, but could easily do something like what my brother Jason is doing successfully HERE–only with a bit less functional fitness and more HIIT.
  8. Writing. Wow, this is a big one.  I love writing, and do it quite a bit in a variety of forms and to a variety of ends, the main ones including:
    1. ImageFromArtStudioFiction–I’m writing a fantasy novel for pre-teens based on a dungeons and dragons campaign I started with my boys last year.  You can read the first bit for free HERE.  Not sure if it’ll ever get published, but I’m going to work on is as though it will, because, why not?
    2. Adventure Writing–I’m keen to keep writing commentary about adventure and detailing some of my more exciting exploits.  I get published a couple of times a year in magazines such as Wilderness (NZ) and Breathe (CA).  Can’t quit my day job yet, but then again, I don’t really have a day job to quit.
    3. Fitness writing–similar to adventure writing, my thoughts on all things fitness and nutrition inspire me to occasionally put pen to paper, and once in awhile someone thinks I’m saying something of value and publishes it, like recent articles in WOD talk and NZ triathlon and multisport.
    4. UltraMental stuff–of course I’m still spending time and energy thinking about my training, fitness philosophy, and new programs and sharing them on the UM blog. In addition, I’ve just finished the One Hour Series #2 on Ultra-running, and will tackle number three after a bit of a break.  Now if only Tim Ferris would have a read and give me a courtesy tweet…
    5. Other books–I’ve got heaps of ideas from a memoir of my brother and I’s early climbing days (and years of journals) to UM like books on training with kids, risk, parenthood, etc.  
  9. Youth Guiding.  I’ve had heaps of fun each time I’ve done a stint of guiding for local school groups and have considered getting more into this, particularly by offering SUP and or Packrafting to things they already do.  After all, packrafting is the future of outdoor rec. in NZ, and I’m a pretty decent packrafter.
  10. Conservation work.  This is how I earned most of my income last year.  It’s really like paid training.  Shouldn’t I just focus on this, make some dough, keep uber-fit, and help rid the island of unwanted (and non-native) bird-killing pests?  Hmmm…but there are so many other things on the list, and some days it’s really cold and wet out there in the mountains. Still, don’t want to give this one up, after all, I’m getting paid to hang out and take helicopter rides.  Ok, I’m really getting paid to scrape maggots out of traps and handle raw meat, but focusing on the riding in helicopters bit makes it seem more awesome.
  11. Teaching and Tutoring.  Believe it or not, I’m actually quite educated–having been a high school teacher and having earned a Master’s Degree in physics in a former life. I enjoy both teaching (and could, were I to choose to, more ambitiously pursue either relief teaching or a more full time position) and tutoring. So many choices!
  12. 13043690_860682407391334_7744007119342576783_nStand Up Paddleboarding: Last year my wife and I decided there needed to be something low cost to do on the lake. So we invested 8000 in SUPs, I took an instructor’s course, we built up an old trailer, and Viola, started a lake-front rental business. We missed most of last summer, but, depending on how much elbow grease we want to invest next summer, could potentially grow this by
    1. Starting a weekly locals race series/time trial
    2. Host bigger events (see #2 and #3), including down-river events
    3. Guiding SUP trips from one hour excursions to multi-day adventures
  13. Waiau River Festival: By combining #2d, #12b, a SCAR type event, and some fun up-river swim/SUP competition, or even a down river SUPcross type event, an entire three day weekend could be spent partying on the Waiau river between the Control Gates and Rainbow Reach.  How awesome would that be?
  14. Pack-Raft Guiding.  Did I mention that pack-rafting was the future of NZ outdoor recreation?  Well luckily I’m a guide for the NZ’s only commercial pack-rafting outfit and am helping develop new trips down in my neck of the woods, including full on 6 day wilderness experiences in the heart of the Darran Mountains.  
  15. And Finally, there is the Men’s Yoga class that i figure is very much needed in this Southland town where I’ve taken up residence.  Most of the guys out here are probably reticent to any sort of mixed class, or anything with too much of the feel good stuff, but a basic ‘blokes only’ offering would probably do well. 

So you see my dilemma.  A dozen or so potential careers.  On top of this I’m pretty keen to get back into a bit of climbing and keep training so that I can tackle one or two big races a year like GodZone. And of course spending heaps of quality time with the kids and wife (which is more important than any career in my book). There’s no way to do it all.  Going to have to choose.  But how?  Never been good at this part, I’ve always been more of the idea man.  Knuckling down is hard.  Any suggestions?  Flipping a coin maybe?  Or rolling one of those 12 sided dice I’ve recently become re-aquainted with (see #8a)? Home made darts and dart-board?

ONE (really) good session

One good session blog picI’m fascinated really.  I went out for a run today, a short one. After a very stressfull couple weeks where my training seemed to be my last priority.  Where I was on the tails of a botched taper for GodZone, a race that I didn’t end up going to because of some terrible life circumstances. I hadn’t run in any serious capacity for at least two weeks, and before that only a handful of short efforts over the last month or so.  I’d been staying active–three minutes of CTL (continuous training load) strength work once a week, an intermediate hang-workout at the same frequency, and some swimming once in a while.  A solid bike effort in the lead up to GodZone (happening now! Check it out!) with superstar Cheley Magness two weeks ago or so.  A long slow burn day in the hills stoat trapping.  But hardly a proper training schedule.

And I was pretty bummed. Bummed about the circumstances.  Bummed about GodZone. Bummed that I was struggling with letting go of GodZone in the midst of the circumstances. Things were challenging.  But I was trying to find some normalcy in it, to grab back a bit of control over things that just seemed to be spinning every which way. And one way I do that is with training.

So anyway, I’d put together a ‘start again’ schedule last night.  Today was a run. A short one.  My first in two weeks like I said.  I waited until the last minute, procrastinating till the end, because well, HIIT is hard. And besides, I’m really good at procrastinating. But then it was time, no more delays.  The curry was simmering in the pot–dinner time t-minus 30 minutes.  Now or never.  

And so I went.  Outside and down the driveway.  The Pylon run, just under 2 K out n back–down then up to the pylon, then back down and up again to the finish line at my cottage. Either up or down–all steep enough to hurt but not so steep to give you an excuse not to work your ass off. Brutal stuff for a time trial, and as my friend and fellow Kiwi transplant (you’re welcome!) Caleb K. says–it’s the gold standard as far as Te Anau time trials are concern.  Adrian Braaksma has gone 10:45. UltraMental Apprentice Vaughn Filmer has gone 10:50 something. I’ve never, even when I was hitting it regularly during regular training cycles, gone sub 11. My PR sat somewhere around 11:04.

Until today.  I told myself I’d be happy with a sub 11:30.  Just a good effort, as long as I pushed hard enough to feel some pain by the end.  Just needed to help with my funk a bit.  I didn’t expect much–couldn’t expect much with the month I’d had.  Yet somehow when I crossed the finish line–the imaginary threshold between the corner post of the paddock fence and the corner of the cottage–and looked at my watch it read…10:57.

Yeah, it hurt.  The crisp evening air burned my lungs coming up the final hill.  They still burned during deep breaths half an hour later. I had the tinny taste in the back of my throat.  I’d wanted to hurt a bit.  But I never expected to be faster.  I just can’t figure it out honestly, but i’m not going to try too much, because, just like that, one good workout, and I feel a bit more in control.  Sure it doesn’t really mean anything (other than that I’ve got a new benchmark… ouch), but I certainly love the way that one good session can seem to turn things around.  And somehow, i always seem to be able to have one when i need it.  Maybe it’s a self fullfilling prophecy because after all i’d already lifted the expectations–I’d have been stoked with a 11:15.  So I couldn’t really fail.  And although i felt a bit out of shape, maybe that’s just my mind.  Maybe i’d been doing just enough to keep reved up but nothing extra that, when combined with all my other stress, would have led to decreased performance.  Maybe, at least considering my circumstances, less really was more.

I’m on a high right now which feels nice because it’s been a while.  It won’t last forever, but rest assured, it’ll come again, probably just when I need it, with or without another PR.

Maintaining (humility)

It has been a long time since I’ve added a blog to the site.  I’ve been busy–working, playing, travelling, learning how to take care of hen’s whilst they incubate eggs, and last but not least, experimenting daily with the best way to remove boards from pallets (I haven’t yet found a good way).

I haven’t had a good adventure in a while, nor a big mission. That’s not to say I haven’t suffered thought–I spent a couple of cold and rain-soaked days working in the Clinton Valley for my ‘boss’ Adrian where I found myself pulling out all my mental tricks to keep from giving Adrian the mental middle finger (as my central Governor was telling me to do) and quitting early to retreat to the warmth of the hut where we were spending our nights.  The dialogue ran something like this–“Does it really matter if I get all these tracking tunnels laid out?  Can’t we just make up the data?  I’m freezing and my hands aren’t working anyway…this is getting dangerous!” But in the end I sucked it up a broke the hours into minutes–the dozens of traps and tracking tunnels into one at a time.  I also literally sucked on the the tiny spoon I was using to scoop peanut butter out of a jar to bait the tunnels with, soaking in a few more calories to insulate me against the 10 or so kilos of near freezing H2O that I was carrying against my will as part of my clothing. Instead of Adrian, the middle finger went to the peanut-butter monster that was following me through the bushes.  That night I was rewarded with as much back-country sushi as I could eat.

assushi

Adrian, a mild-mannered and unassuming uber athlete and back-country sushi specialist.

Anyway, I digress.  This general lack of missions had me restless and I’ve realized that there are only two things to do in such a situation–actually go on a mission, or, alternatively, commit to one in the future.  Because I wasn’t particularly inspired to ‘go and do’ I decided on the latter option–and on a more recent work trip with Adrian (with far better weather) we agreed to sign up for GodZone, NZ’s toughest adventure race and one of the most competitive expedition AR’s in the world.  I committed by fronting the 7500 entry fee. Filling out the four person roster will be my brother, Jason and his wife, Chelsey of team Yogaslackers.

Adrian thinks this means I’m going to have to train more.  Maybe it does.  But one thing I’ve realized over the past year is that although building fitness might take a lot of time, maintaining fitness takes very little.  I’ve (thankfully) found that although I’m not quiet as fit as I have been when I’ve put a bit more time into it, I’ve been able to maintain a reasonably high level of fitness on roughly 30 minutes a week of effort.  This is the case strength and speed particularly, but also, to a reasonable extent, for endurance.

Finding time to train is hard.  Training higher volume consistently is really hard. One reason for this is that if you ever drop the habit–get busy and have to choose work or family over training–then recreating training time in your schedule is a hurdle to overcome.  By focusing/prioritizing a regular, non-time intensive, maximally effective (HIT) regimen once you’ve reached your fitness peak, a base level of fitness that is much higher than what is enjoyed by most amateur/recreational athletes can be maintained.  Which means that when the time comes to do your next big mission (like GodZone), your starting fitness platform will be closer to the goal platform, which means fewer weeks of ‘extra’ work will be needed to get into ‘racing’ shape.

Unless that is, you’re racing with Adrian, who joined me for today’s pylon run.  Although I led for the first half (it take’s him a while to ‘get into it’ he claims), he led the second, by greater and greater margins, with enough energy in reserve to shout encouragement over his shoulder as he climbed the finishing hill. Bugger–I thought I was a faster runner than he was too.  But that is just another perk of the minimalist approach I guess, combined with run-ins with the Adrian’s of the world, it allows me to maintain more than just my fitness…

Doing well

 

50-off

For for than a decade now I’ve pursued the goal of being a ‘jack-of-all-endurance’ trades. I have aspired simultaneously to train so that I could both ‘do anything’ and ‘do it well’.  For quite some time I’ve left the notion of what ‘doing it well’ meant purposefully vague but have long contemplated the phrase, wondering what, at least for an ambitious recreational athlete like myself, it should actually mean.  The time has now come to offer up a more concrete criteria.  

I’ll begin by admitting that these criteria are going to be largely (entirely?), arbitrary.  But in truth, at least from a suitably wide perspective, everything else is largely arbitrary too. Arbitrariness is unavoidable.  That being said, arbitrariness can be more (when backed by reasoned arguments) or less (lacking any meaningful justification) sensible. The bit of arbitrariness in question here falls into the former category of course–in my opinion anyway and since this is my article, I guess no more justification is required. So without further ado:

Doing something well (as an age group, non professional athlete) implies–at least when concerning athletic endeavors that are measured by ‘time to completion’– finishing within a time no more than 50% greater than that of the world’s top athletes in the given discipline.  In other words, you’ve done it well if you are ‘Off by 50’ or less.

If you think that this sounds too easy – that 50% is too generous a cushion – consider the following examples:

  1. The fastest marathon time is just over 2 hours.  By my criteria, an age grouper who runs a 3 hour marathon is doing dandy.  In fact, they’ll qualify for Boston with time to spare. This evidence clearly supports my thesis and scarcely have I seen a better start to a well reasoned argument.  So far so good.
  2. The fastest IronMan (IM) distance triathlon is somewhere right around (slightly under) 8 hours – so breaking that 12 hour barrier puts you in pretty good company.  Additionally consider that if you look at the results of most general registration (no qualifying time is required) IM distance races on reasonably flat courses, a sub 12 hour performance would put you in approximately the top 35% of the field.  Considering that there are no ‘average’ athletes running such a race and you get an idea of the achievement.  If you ask me the logic, at least for efforts at the top end of the scale, is simply infallible.  But what about shorter endurance efforts?
  3. Well, what about them?  A sub 4-minute mile is clearly in the realm of elite runners at this distance (the world record is 3:43). This translates to a good goal for an age grouper like myself being a sub 6 minute mile, or if we’re going with the hardcore expression of the criteria (50% increase over the WR) a time of less than 5:35 is needed.

Wow.  I think I’ve nailed it, don’t you?  It’s hard to find fault in such an arbitrary criteria that is also so sensible.  Completely coincidentally, it just so happens that these numbers pretty closely define the edges of my own abilities which is pretty awesome.  The target goals created by the criteria are met often enough to placate my ego but challenging enough to require quite a bit of hard work and focus which keeps me lean and keen.  Not that these two coincidental factors have any influence on such a well reasoned, logically derived, but arbitrarily chosen measure of meaning, because that’s just silly.  

No, it was chosen simply because it makes sense.  In fact, it’s so good that I’m convinced it’s just a matter of time before it catches on, becomes the industry standard, and enters our everyday lexicon:

Athlete A:  So how’d you do in your race Saturday?

Athlete B:  Excellent!  I was only ‘Off By 50!’

Athlete A:  Whoa! You’re really doing well!

Can’t you just hear it?

Here are some more ways to be ‘Off By 50’. How many can you manage?

Running:

100 meters:  9.58 seconds.  Off by 50 time:  14.37 (equivalent to running 3:53 mile pace for 100 m)

1 mile: 3:43  Off by 50 time: 5:34

10 K (road): 26:44  Off by 50 time: 40:06

Half Marathon:  58:23  Off by 50 time:  1:27:35

Marathon:  2:03:06  Off by 50 time:  3:04:39

Swimming:

50 meter freestyle:  20:91  Off by 50 time:  31.36

1 mile (open water):  16:23  Off by 50 time:  24:35

10 K (open water):  1:54:30 (approx)  Off by 50 time:  2:51:45

Biking:

10 mile:  17:57  Off by 50 time:  26: 55

40 km time trial:  47:36  Off by 50 time:  1:11:24

[Note–this piece was originally published back in 2012 on my early blog, three hours a week, as two separate posts.]

Feeling Bad: the dark side of high intensity training

darthHigh intensity training for endurance has a dark side.

It never feels easy.  In order to embrace and benefit from true high intensity work, you must first realize and then accept the fact that workouts aren’t going to feel good.  You’re not going to get to the point in the program where you get to go out and run a few miles and pat yourself on the back because ‘hey, that felt great!’

When you do high intensity work, you won’t get the runner’s high…or the cyclists thrill of the open road.  You will get pain, doubt, the taste of blood in the back of your throat, and uncooperative bowels.  You won’t struggle to fathom how you will manage another mile, but how you’ll manage another minute. You won’t feel fast and light and easy.  You’re legs and arms will feel heavy, your lungs too small, and your will inadequate to it’s task.

This dark side will also play tricks on your mind and your mind will challenge you by repeating it’s rhetoric. It will tell you that you failing.  That you are slower than last time.  That you have no hope of making your goal–that your efforts are futile.  These suggestions will be hard to ignore, particularly when you feel awful less than 5 minutes into your workout.

It will be easy to give up.  It will be even easier to slow down–to decide to settle for less speed if it simultaneously means less pain.  There are a million reasons why you might be actually be slower, why you might not meet your goal.  You didn’t get enough sleep, you haven’t eaten well, you’ve got too much on your plate and are stressed.  Your mind will run through the list and try to get you to abandon your attempt because your mind isn’t a big fan of discomfort.  And maybe some of these reasons truly do apply–they’re not just excuses but actual factors that are negatively affecting your performance.  On the other hand…

My experience has been that I always feel lousy.  When I’m totally busting my butt and really going after it I always feel flat, tired, spent.  I never really feel fast.  I just hurt.  So I’ve made my peace with the dark side.  I don’t try to fight it, but I don’t give in either.  I just let the thoughts come in  and listen to their arguments and often even agree with them, believing that indeed I must be going much slower, sometimes pathetically so, than I’d hoped.  But I don’t ease off.  I never ease off.

And in the end, I’m usually not slower after all.  

Happy Training.

Know Thyself

My wife turned me on to a recent blog post from one of her favorites, Mr. Frank Forencich of the Exuberant Animal.  It discusses the ideas of ‘lifestyle intelligence’ and bricolage–an ability to adapt and successfully reach a desired outcome using diverse and available materials. In reading and reflecting on Frank’s piece, I was struck with the importance of being able to assess your strengths and weaknesses as an individual in order to have a shot at achieving your goals.

I’m not talking about recognizing that your swim times aren’t as on par with your bike times compared to other age group athletes or anything like that.  I’m talking about understanding who you are as a person when it comes to following through on workouts, best times of the day for motivation, and being realistic both in setting goals and then in how likely you are to meet the demands of any particular workout program you attempt to follow in order to meet them.

My wife, for example, is a morning person.  She’d rather get up at six A.M. to go for a run in the dark and be back and showered before anyone in the house is up.  She’s more likely to find excuses not to do her workout the longer the day goes on.  Mornings work for her.  Mornings do not work for me on the other hand–not much works actually until after a cup of coffee or two.

I am, however a pressure player–a procrastinator.  I will put off workouts until the moment where if I wait any longer I won’t get it done.  If my wife needs to head to work at 5:15 in the evening (as she did a couple of days ago) I might wait until about 5:00 to start running.  It suits me primarily because most of my workouts are really hard and really short.  The ‘hardness’ makes me put them off as long as possible whereas the shortness means that I can, in fact, squeeze them in at a last minute here or there.

Timing aside, another huge part of knowing thyself has to do with understanding one’s personal capacity for both volume and intensity. So many programs prescribe efforts as though everyone is capable (mentally and phyiscally) of any combination of these elements, assuming they can decide to commit the time.  Of course this is anything but true.  While it may be the case that committing time is all that is required to meet the volume side of the equation, meeting intensity is another thing.  Some people just can’t do, or won’t do, intensity. For most of us, however, it’s more a matter of how much and how often.  All out sprints or proper Tabata protocol might be a once a week thing for some or a once a month thing for others (just long enough to forget the taste of blood and/or bile in the back of the mouth).

My training has been modified over the years based on my changing circumstances and my diligence in understanding what these changes mean in terms of what I can/will realistically do.  I was able to manage three true high intensity workouts a week during winters in North Dakota when I was a member of a gym, had a great range of high end cardio equipment, solid race goals, and spent most of my day sitting in front of a computer.  Now-a-days, living in New Zealand with no gym access, adventure rather than race goals, and a daily routine that involves more general activity than I’ve had in a while, the mental demands of putting up more than one or two true high intensity efforts a week are beyond me.

Training programs in and of themselves aren’t bad things of course–following a plan that someone else has put together can certainly seem to take some of the pressure off and even allow you to benefit from someone elses (hopefully sound) knowledge about training and fitness.  But it is important to remember that the biggest factor in success or failure is probably not the viability of the program itself, but in how well it is matched to your actual abilities and how well it fits itself in with your other life needs.  Just because you think you want to do something doesn’t mean you will actually do it. Take the time to understand realistically who you are in terms of not only what you want, but what you’re willing and more importantly able to do to reach your goal.  And make sure any training program you adopt serves this pragmatism.

Alright, that’s it for this post.  It’s 4:39 and I’ve gotta get changed and get my two mile time trial in and then pick up the kids by 5:00–talk about perfect timing.

Happy training,

Andy

 

Snow Day

Sticking with it isn’t easy. Some days it feels downright impossible.  But that really is the key–if you can master that, you can pretty much do anything.

IMG_20150414_115432622Underneath that simple thought somewhere is the necessity of doing the work to figure yourself out well enough to understand what it is that you can stick to.  Aim to high and you’ll quit (probably sooner than later). Aim to low and you don’t reach your potential.

For me it’s about 5 workouts a week–three short but high intensity ‘cardio’ efforts, and two single set max effort bodweight sets, one of chin-ups and one of push-ups. My total training time varies between 40 and 90 minutes a week, give or take.  It doesn’t seem like much, but it’s enough for me.  In truth, it is about all I can maintain. Occasionally I’ll get more–some sort of longer effort–but I don’t count on it or need it.  I work hard and keep at it and it keeps me pretty darn fit.

The last couple days were a challenge though–cold and snow and a major hassle just to keep warm (the ‘cottage’ we’re living in doesn’t have heat yet…).  And there are the daily trips to the library for internet (don’t have that at the cottage yet either) to spend a fun couple of hours in front of the computer doing taxes.  Then family dinners before everything gets dark by 6:30 because, you guessed it, the cottage doesn’t have electricity yet either.

IIMG_20150413_085419951‘m not really complaining though–the cold snap also means cozy family cuddles on the couch under heaps of blankets and sleeping bags watching torrented movies on the chromebook (“Trash” was on tap tonight) before a bit of bedtime Harry Potter (just starting book six) for the boys.  La Dolce Vita, really, but not quite ideal for motivating training.

That, though is the challenge.  And whether it’s living in a cottage chock full of good excuses not to go outslde or a long day at the office, it’s all the same.  If you decide you want something, to pursue something, you also have to decide to commit to the journey it’s going to take to get there.  No one else can do it, and most of these goals we opt to go after take pretty long journeys. It’s not the first day on the path that is the hard one.  Or the second.  Or the fine days.  It’s the snowy, cold, miserable ones.

So yesterday, between bouts of sleet, I managed to steal outside and get my hill intervals in (UM training file #7). And tonight–after Harry Potter, after I’d polished off the rather too cold bottle of Gewurstminer that had been sitting with a glass and a half left in it on the dark kitchen counter while watching the movie, after I’d eaten the rest of the sour gummies the kids got to pick out for a ‘it’s cold outside so lets eat candy’ treat, but before brushing my teeth–I did my pushups.

I did the slow ones–one rep every 10 seconds.  I failed on the 13th, a new record for me (six months ago I could barely get 9).  I guess it means I’m improving.  Stick with it–even during the snow days–and whatever your goal might be, you will be too.

 

 

Inaction vs. Action

1016807-bigthumbnailIn a recent conversation with my brother we got on the topic of HIIT and the challenges of training multiple times a week at such demanding intensities. He commented that he didn’t know how I did it and didn’t think he was capable of it.  Being my twin he possesses the same genetics.  Being an adventure partner for years and a top adventure racer, I also know that he is mentally as tough as they come.  His assertion gave me pause to think – what was he doing vs. what I was doing in terms of our high intensity workouts that let me repeat so frequently but made it seem impossible to him?

The obvious place to start was that he prefers taking his workouts outside and I’ve relegated my efforts to the gym and cardio equipment.  I’ve long ago learned that for me at least, recreating sessions where I seek to approach my actual momentary physical potential again and again is impossible when I’m outside.  Until that conversation I’d thought it was primarily due to the lack of distraction indoors and the controlled nature of the environment.  But while we were talking I had another idea.

Reaching the prescribed levels of intensity during my workouts (at least on treadmills and stepmills) requires inaction.  Since these machines are the site of approximately half of my efforts, this means that for one out of two workouts, success doesn’t require as much of my will.  For Jason on the other hand, every time he’s outside and wants to meet a desired outcome – it has to come from action.  Let me elaborate–

Based on my workout history I know what effort levels I need to work at to ensure a gut-wrenching, leg destroying, taste-blood type of workout.  I’ve got my training logs and the machines I use are the same.  So when I hop on that treadmill and key in the program level and speed, all I have to do is hang on.  During my third hill or speed interval if I don’t do anything – if I just try to survive – I will be successful.  In fact, in order NOT to succeed, I have to manually key down the level or speed.  Action is required in order to NOT meet my goals.  Compare this to Jason’s running 1/4 mile sprints around a track shooting for a goal time.  On that fourth interval when he just about threw up after the third one, it requires action to succeed.  NOT acting for him – not somehow mustering the motivation and will to put energy he doesn’t think he has in to his last lap – results in failure (to meet his goal).

For me the intention is set at the beginning when I’m feeling motivated and never needs to be revisited, I just have to not fall off.  For Jason, motivation and volitional action is required at every step of the process.  It is a seemingly subtle but important difference.  I have to tell myself  “DON’T PUSH the button.”  Jason has to decide “DO PUSH the body.”

Inaction leads to my success.  Action is required for Jason’s.