Friday morning roll with a smile. Ignore the rain.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I actually enjoy running, biking, and swimming.  Training for a big event seems to suck all the enjoyment out of these activities.  All the focus on heart rate, nutrition, recovery, speed, limiting risk, peaking and tapering can make everything too clinical. 

Friday morning, the road was soaked from rain the night before.  As is customary for the days when I plan on riding 100 miles or more, mother nature does her best to sabotage those plans.  (See, e.g., derecho, merciless downpour, and a freezing cold ride in the rain that I had to cut short because I could no longer feel my hands.)  Since it takes me hours to clean up my tri bike after a rainy ride, and since the tri bike is 15 times more dangerous on wet roads, I decided to take the MacAttac instead.  I maintained a moderate pace, but I took the time to enjoy the time on the trail.  I really am lucky to be able to ride a bike and enjoy nature on these rides.

This is actually a photo from a 50-miler a few weeks ago, when the weather was much nicer for a ride.  But my smile on Friday was just as wide.

The ride was not without its challenges.  I came screaming across an intersection just before a light changed, and when I hit the trail on the other side, my front tire went flat ... quickly.  Not only was the tube flat, but my tire had a gaping hole in it.

Here's a tip from my days as a mountain biker.  When your tire looks like this:

Take a dollar bill, fold it up, and put it on the inside of your tire (between the tube and the tire).  It will keep your innertube from bulging out of a hole like this, and it will keep road debris from entering the hole and popping the tube.  Believe me, it works.  (I rode the last 17 miles of my ride with Abe Lincoln staring through this hole.) 

After fixing the flat, I ran out of calories and nearly wrecked on an uneven section of pavement in a dark tunnel.  And my road bike picked up a pound of road sludge that may never come off.  But on a ride like this, nothing could get me down.  I committed myself to enjoying more rides just like this one.

Knee Doping

I have denied it for a full 24 hours, but it's time that I come straight with my readership ...

I'm a knee doper.

Yes, it's true.  On Tuesday, I received a cortisone injection in my left knee to get ahead of my pes tendinitis.  I suppose all my victories going forward will be noted with an asterisk because my knee has received a performance-enhancing substance.

You didn't really think that natural knees could be so fantastically endowed, did you?

In truth, I have struggled for the last few weeks with tendinitis in my left knee.  This injury is different from stress fractures or more abrupt injuries, because it comes and goes like a cat through an open door.  No rhyme or reason -- sometimes it's there, sometimes it isn't.  I had figured out that with Aleve in my system, I could run 6-10 miles with pain at about 3/10 (a 10 meaning so painful I can't walk).  The problem is that I'm not running a 6-10 mile race.  Anything that hurts 3/10 after 10 miles will hurt 13/10 by mile 26.  The doctor offered a cortisone shot, and everyone I spoke with seemed to agree that this would be an instant fix for the discomfort.

Well, apparently not an "instant" fix.  Nobody mentioned that it would actually be 10 times more painful for the first 24 hours, until my doctor mentioned it (after giving me the shot).  I was also not prepared for the shot itself.  I don't usually flinch when I get a flu shot or even a tetanus shot.  How bad could a shot into your knee be, really?  After the doctor looked at the knee with the ultrasound, he prepared the syringe and started talking to me.

"So how many kids do you have?"

"Well, I have a 5 year old daughter and a 2- SONOVA!!!" [yanking my knee away instinctively]

Apparently that part of your knee is not as conducive to needles as the fleshy part of your arm.  It was 4 pricks of a very uncomfortable needle.  It felt like the shot went into my knee bone, or whatever that is.  But then, voila! My knee almost immediately began to feel better.  I thought, "Wow, why didn't I do this a few weeks ago?"  So I asked the doctor, "So now what?  Do I just go on with my training?" 

His response: "Oh, well, it'll be fine until the numbing agent wears off, but for the next 24 hours, it's going to hurt like SH#T.  Don't worry.  It'll get better each day."

What the what?  This wasn't supposed to hurt.  It was supposed to fix the knee.  For the next 6 hours, my knee DID feel better.  I thought, "Maybe I'm a part of the population that is uniquely suited to receive cortisone injections without the side-effects."  Maybe riding my bike is actually good for it.  Halfway into my bike ride home, I learned otherwise.  The pain and stiffness hit me like a swift kick to the ... err, knee.  It was all I could do to finish pedaling home.  Last night, it was so painful, I couldn't even sleep for much of the night.  (And when I did fall asleep, on my back with my leg propped up just so, I snored so loudly that Alisha snuck away and slept on the couch.  I've said it before ... I have the best wife!)  My doctor had very accurately described the pain in one word.  I suppose that's why they go to medical school.

It has now been 24 hours.  Is it better than last night?  Yes.  Is it less painful than before the shot?  No way.  If this thing works, it could be what saved my Ironman.  If it doesn't, then I'll feel like an idiot for subjecting myself to a shot in my knee.  (And the dubious title of being a knee doper.)

Time to Panic. (Almost.)

I've run a lot of races in the last 15 years.  Almost without exception, in the days or weeks prior to a big event, something goes terribly wrong with my body.  A new sore joint, nagging pain, freak accident -- you get the jist.  I don't think it is a psychosomatic response or an excuse to sit out the event.  I have run plenty of races with minor aches and pains.  It actually takes something rather significant to derail me (like a stress fracture in my tibia in 2009 a week before a marathon).

About 10 days ago I ran 18 miles around Burke Lake.  I knew I would be sore afterwards, but a new soreness crept into my left knee that I haven't felt for a few years.  About 3 years ago, when I was training for the Marine Corps Marathon, after an 18-mile training run (apparently my unlucky number), I had a very sharp pain in the same part of my knee.  That injury ended my hopes for the marathon, and I took two months off running before ramping up again. 

That pain is back.  The difference this time is that I've worked too hard to not race Ironman.  I have continued to run since the Burke Lake run, though at shorter distances and at a much slower pace.  The knee pain is still there, nagging with every stride.  This morning I went to a knee specialist to make sure I wasn't risking permanent damage to the knee, and he diagnosed me with Pes Anserinus Tendinitis.

Here is an image of the "pes tendon."  It passes over a bursa sac that can get inflamed as a result of impact, inflexibility, and ... wait for it ... wait for it ... OVERUSE.  (Saw that coming, didn't you?)

The bad news:  This takes a long time to completely heal.  6 weeks or more.  And IM Florida is in 3.5 weeks.

The good news:  With enough painkillers or a cortisone shot, I can continue to train for, and race in Florida, and the risk of long-term damage is pretty low. (Yay! Running in pain!)

For now, the Doctor gave me Aleve to bring down the swelling.  If it still hurts by next Monday, it's time to panic, and he promised me a corisone shot. 

This latest development is frustrating, to say the least.  It's not easy waking up early every morning and training for 11 solid months for Ironman.  Every swim in the cold pool, every bike ride in the dark, every energy-sapping run, time spent away from my family, time spent not sleeping when I'm clearly exhausted -- I tell myself that the payoff will be worth it.  At this point, the payoff is less certain than it was a couple of weeks ago.

I should have stolen this sign

Home of the MacAttac!

Well, this is interesting (to me).

I met with a swim coach on Monday to get a stroke analysis.  Yes, it's about 10 months too late for that, but my goal is to get some objective feedback on my freestyle and to correct one or two habits that are slowing me down the most.

The coolest part of the stroke analysis is getting yourself filmed.  I have never actually seen what I look like when I swim, and while I think I've corrected some bad habits, it's hard to tell without seeing yourself.

Right away, the swim coach pointed out 3 major issues with my freestyle:
1. Underwater pull
2. Entry
3. Recovery

In case you're keeping track, that's basically every part of swinging your arms.  I suppose that means I have a lot to work on. 

If you want to offer your own critique, here are the videos:

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/remscoq9m5cheil/Wh2PM5VHRh

It's clear from the videos that I have NOT corrected some of my bad habits!  Time to get back in the pool to work on it ...

One Month To Go

Saturday I ran around Burke Lake 4 times.  (18 miles as the Garmin flies.)  It took me 2 hours and 38 minutes.  It was probably a mistake to run the last 2 miles, but when you feel good, you have to get in the miles.  And the obsessive-compulsive part of me couldn't simply turn around in the middle -- I had to run the final fourth loop, even though my left knee registered a new protest.

Every once in a while I have the fantasy that I can focus on running for a year and qualify for the Boston Marathon.  But every time, and I mean EVERY time I run past about 16 miles, I remember why I hate training for Marathons so much.  Running is fun and exciting and free for about 10 miles.  Anything after that is a war of attrition.

And speaking of miles, I just completed my 11th month of training for IM Florida.

September was supposed to be my "peak" month.  And while I didn't hit my highest totals in any single category, I hit my longest distances, highest total hours, and actually felt very good through it all.  I have been very lucky so far with injuries and motivation.

My yearly totals for swimming and running are the highest ever for me (and biking is probably a close second).

Swim: 126.94 mi
Bike: 3293.10 mi
Run: 680.28 mi

Am I ready for this race?  Not really.  Am I ready to be done with this training schedule? Absolutely.