Recovery

You cannot overtrain, only under recover.

Amongst the rules for training this one stands out because it not only highlights a critical ingredient of training - recovery - but also because it presents recovery from a different perspective in that it's not how much you train, but how much you recover that's the critical thing. As with most things about endurance sports, finding the balance between training and recovering is an art which oscillates from day-to-day and week-to-week, not to mention from person-to-person. An artful balance will allow the progressive overload that is crucial for development and improvement, from beginners to experienced.

Over time there have been all kinds of guidelines and rules for how to manage progressive overload, from taking morning HR to the 10% rule and 2-3 weeks hard / 1 week recovery, each of which is founded on worthy merit but at the same time is not perfect...which is true for most generalisations anyway!!

I don't subscribe to any of these rules or guidelines because I think they are too "broad brush" in style and application, robotic, limiting of development and out-dated...somewhat like using HR monitors to train by. I think that managing recovery should be a lot more flexible, based on a mix of recovery on demand and recovery around races, and take into account the profile of individual athletes.

The reason I don't follow a fixed cycle of recovery (eg, 2:1 or 3:1) is that very often the benefit of stringing together a number of good weeks of training is better than the stop-start routine of a fixed recovery week. That is, unless the athlete needs some down time - hence the recovery on demand - where they may only need a few days down time to get their mojo back. The key is being in tune with how each athlete is coping and feeling, and responding and adapting accordingly...hence why the best opening question for any coach is "how are you feeling", or something to that effect. A warm-up may even include a simple baseline test to determine how prepared an athlete is for a session.

Face-to-face coaching has this huge advantage over correspondance programming, as do smaller athlete groups where the coach can actually interact with each athlete - I find that up to about 15-17 athletes at a session is close to the limit for being effective as a coach in this way.

A monthly training program should be seen as idealistic, with the understanding it may - and probably should - change according to circumstances. Such a program really just sets out the progression for the month, where the details of how that is actually achieved can vary. Recovery on demand can mean any length of time, for example, post IM when the demand for recovery is high, so you cater for it accordingly. Similarly if an athlete has other life stresses, which take a toll including on ability to train.

In essence, a recovery week when an athlete is not in need of recovery is a lost opportunity to train and thus improve. Consistency is what we're after, and where there is a routine recovery week can lead to pushing too hard just before the recovery week, and than taking a few days to get going again after the recovery week.

Athletes are not very often building up volume, so the theory of stepping up weekly volume - the 10% rule - then cutting back in a recovery week doesn't apply. Consistency of training, with variations in intensity and sometimes frequency and volume, are the best variables to use.

The other time for recovery is around races, which an efficient and effective time for recovery because it allows an athlete to rest up and recover, which also helps race performance. This also includes recovery time afterwards. Of course where training is building up to a key, 'A' race then a taper would be included, but this is not appropriate for every race.

The key is to manage workload in an on-going manner, adapting to how each athlete is feeling and responding to training. General rules are safe for a mass-market approach, and do have their place, but reaching your potential requires thinking outside that square and being adaptive in your approach to training and recovery.

Moving out!!

I’m writing this surrounded by packing boxes which collectively contain my life and possessions, but at the moment look more like a disorganised warehouse waiting for someone to sweep through and bring some order to the chaos. The thing is, however, the chaos is only going to get worse before it gets better with the house move booked in for this Friday...and I just can’t wait until it’s over. Yes, I’m moving out.

I guess the seeds for this move were planted way back when I met Ms A who is now my fiancé and the motivation for digging up stumps and crossing the river, and the town, to shack up together in our own place. With our wedding only 5 weeks later, it’s a big leap of faith from both of us to sell our houses and buy one together, but it feels right and certainly I have had no second thoughts.

The process of selling houses is worthy of a whole series of posts and stories, including tales of real estate agents, cleaning and tidying, inspections, conveyancers, anxiety and worry, the auction and more. It’s a drawn out process and you sometimes wonder if the agents actually add much value, but it is a necessary evil associated with buying and selling houses. Then once you add in the settlement period it’s almost a 5 month process where perhaps the worst part is the last bit, of actually moving, which I’ve got ahead this Friday...

Fortunately I’ve been able to look forward to the good things that will come from the move, mainly being in the same house with Ms A and secondary being the new suburb and area we’re moving to – my favourite parkland and trails in all of Melbourne are just a short run away. It’s lucky these positives are so strong since there is a lot of regret associated in moving away from my current location, top of list is actually the location which is only just a few minutes from literally everything I do on a day-to-day basis...except visiting Ms A. I love that I can currently drop into home between working, running, coaching, swimming, etc, rather than having to pack bags for the whole day.

Moving will have a huge impact on my routine, not the least of which is that I’m stopping swimming, which for me is not so much about the actual swimming but the people at swimming who I will miss a lot. Top of the list is the coach, Buddy, who has been a rock of stability, wisdom, advice and so much more for over 24 years – more than half my life. Outside of family he has had the biggest influence on my life of anyone in the whole world, and the things I’ve learned from him will stay with me forever and keep on prompting me to be a good/ better person...and husband come that day in August!!!

But despite the upheaval in routine, I know I’ll get used to it as it becomes a “new normal” and the good things about the move and the fantastic house we’re moving into together – exciting times ahead. However right now I’m constantly reminded of what is going to happen this week – moving – which has as much appeal as having a tooth pulled out. Just gotta keep the end in sight...

Committing

During a recent talk to a triathlon club I was asked the question, "Why do you think some people under perform in races?", which is a great question...and a tough one to answer, especially being on the spot in front of an audience!!!

I pondered for a moment, thinking how to respond when there could a hundred reasons why an athlete might under perform - is it because there expectations were too high, they weren't fit enough, were tired, un-prepared or any of a multiple of factors. I was thinking aloud in rattling off some of the typical reasons people might give for an under performance, when the answer popped into my head. Perhaps, I said, it is because the athlete isn't really committed to what they are doing, not just at the race but their wider participation in the sport. It's a little confronting to suggest someone isn't committed, but it's not quite as harsh as it might sound. Let me explain.

Committing to a race begins back at the origins of participation in the sport, and is akin to your core motivation for getting involved in the first place. Whatever your reason for starting out, committing to it and the process involved is the key to getting the most from your participation, whether that is to just get fit and finish an event or to secure a podium placing. Committing means that you're owning the task and effort involved in reaching your goal, and your degree of commitment reflects how important the end goal is to you. That is, committing to something is not all-or-nothing - there are shades of commitment which subsequently colour your life in black or white...or shades of grey.

For example, you might have a motivating goal of having a perfect race; your perfect race. So your commitment would be to doing the necessary things in training and preparation which would lead to the possibility of a perfect race, where the race provides the means to measure how close you are to your idea of perfection, and what further work is required. You may chose to have a high level of commitment, which will inevitably be reflected in many aspects of your life, but this would rarely be the same as anyone else's, because we are all different and commit to things at different levels.

Committing can come in all different shapes and sizes, and relate to any range of things. The common element is the effect it has on your decisions and actions as you shape your life around meeting the commitment you've made, to whatever extent you choose. Committing to something without action is just an empty thought; a whim.

Suffice to say, the more strongly you commit to a goal, the more it becomes part of your identity, motivation, actions and daily routine. Subsequently you will have a greater chance of achieving the goal, and in the case of the question I was asked, reduce the likelihood of under performing in a races.

Committing to something should be empowering, at whatever level of commitment feels most comfortable. Committing is a signal to yourself that you want to pursue whatever your goal is, and if the goal is worth it then committing to it should be easy.

Up and racing again!!! (Aths Vic 15km)

When you recover from long-term injuries you tend to look out for milestone events to mark progress (or lack of!!), like 3 weeks since you last ran, or 1 month since you last saw a doctor...and so on. I passed a milestone on Saturday, 12 months since I went under the knife to fix my Achilles...a day I still remember like yesterday, but in reality the time has really dragged at times since then.

On that day last year the surgery was in the early afternoon, and I remember afterwards being in the ward and sending SMS messages to various runners I coach who were doing a 15km road running race in Ballarat to see how they went. I was with them in spirit.

Wind the clock forwards 12 months – to the hour – and I was up there in Ballarat actually doing the same 15km road running race, part of the Athletics Victoria winter running series. What a way to mark the anniversary...up and racing again!!!

This wasn’t my first race back – that came last month – so I’m slowly getting used to the routine of focusing on a race, and making sure I’m feeling good and ready to race, a routine you forget when you’re not racing. There’s also the pre-race diet routine, warming-up, club uniform (I’ve changed clubs this year to one next to where we’re moving in 2 weeks time – Collingwood Harriers), and actually lining up on the start line. In a ways it’s exciting, like being new to the sport again, but is still associated with the same anxiety and nerves I remember from years of doing this in the past.

The race yesterday was promising to be hard – 15km races always are – but I like the challenge of the distance, and this is a good course with strong competition. The course started with a little out-and-back followed by two laps of Lake Wendouree, which featured about 2.5-3km of side or head wind per lap...in a stiff wind.

I felt good after starting, with some great spring and zip in my stride...a wonderful feeling that I hoped would last onwards. Although I felt comfortable I was with / near some people I thought I really shouldn’t be near, based on the results at the Ath Vic 10km race just 2 weeks earlier. Was I setting myself up for a fall, or just running well?

My perfect goal for the race was sub-51 mins, which was ambitious but I paced myself early to get it and hoped I could just hold on. The target time works out at 17min per 5km, and in reaching 5km in 16:49min things were going well, but we hadn’t hit the head wind section yet...that started about 1km later. I was running in a group and my position was in the lead, on the side that would cop the wind as we swung around the lake unless we re-shuffled. We didn’t, dammit.

Running from about 6-9km was hard, with about 2km into the teeth of the wind – me leading with a trail of other guys behind me. Our pace slowed but my effort level was markedly higher, and I was feeling it. Passing through the start/finish area just after 9km my legs were losing their spring and I was becoming a little flat-footed – I had to consciously lift my hips a little to get up and forwards in my stride to maintain my form and momentum. I was running out of fitness...just haven’t done enough miles yet...yet we had another lap ahead, including more headwind.

We passed 10km in 34:04min, not too bad (and 32sec faster than the 10km race 2 weeks ago) but off pace for sub-51..it was now about holding form and pace during the upcoming head wind section which would finish the race.

I was still leading our group, but we caught a couple of other guys we could slip in behind if we stayed together, which I managed to do for a little while. Things got really hard as we turned directly into the wind, and I dug in to hold onto these guys, in their draft, but struck a point of weakness – or confidence – and dropped off. Three guys ran away from me and my legs were really digging holes, on my heels and fatigued. I ran on as best I could, or as well as I thought I could, and got the finish in 51:27min after a slow last 2km. It was only 27sec outside my goal on a day where the wind played a part in the results, but everyone who sets a time goal knows that 27sec could well be a hour.

Despite that, I’m pretty happy with how I ran, and that I felt I had some spring in my stride and ran well for most of it. I think I just don’t have the fitness for 15km just yet, but the way I felt running gave me some confidence. The main part that troubled me afterwards was that I died in the last 2km, as much mentally as physically – I think I might have been able to dig deeper and hold onto the guys who ran away, if I was truly prepared to hurt for it. Perhaps this was actually a reflection on my fitness level, or that I’m losing my edge to hurt which used to be my strength. But at least I’m aware of it, and as much as it will hurt in training and racing in future I’m determined to get that edge back.
From here is more training ahead, for the next Athc Vic race (16km cross-country) and long-term the New York marathon. Gee, it’s great running again!!

Kona 1989 - the best race ever

Coming up soon on www.firstoffthebike.com there is going to be a comparison of the two best ever Ironman races, 1989 Hawaii "Iron War" and the 1990 NZ Ironman. I've written the following to make a case for the 1989 race, and Phil is going to do the same for the 1990 race...both incredible races in their own right. It's all just to generate a bit of thought and discussion!!

In the short history of triathlons there have been many events that have marked it's progress, such as admittance to the Olympics, and races which have defined the sport in the memory of sports fans worldwide. High on the list - if not the top - is the 1989 Hawaii Ironman, "Iron War", which was epic in so many ways during both the lead-up and the race itself. No one else in the race mattered - men or women - other than Dave "The Man" Scott and Mark "Grip" Allen, two of the famous "Big Four" of the era.

In the red corner was Scott, in many ways a pioneer of Ironman who first raced in Hawaii in 1980 and over the course of 10 years lifted the standard many-fold from being a test of amateur craziness to a race of thoroughbred athletes, where he led the charge. He was a hard man of the sport, strong as an ox, who seemingly tapped into his inner mongrel to overcome and overpower races in dominant fashion. He had six Hawaii titles going into the 1989 race.

In the blue corner was Allen, the thoroughbred of thoroughbred athletes whose talents ranged from sprint distance to long course. He was smooth and economical, gazelle-like in his movements, with sublime running ability which he demonstrated year after year at Nice. Going into 1989 he was the best athlete not to have won at Hawaii, not for lack of effort or trying. His preparation was meticulous, including tapping into his inner self, the spirits of the Big Island and Madame Pele in publicised meditation sessions pre race, earning himself the label as the Zen master.

Race morning was unlike any other Ironman, where the tension would cut like a knife...this was going to be a public face-off over the most demanding single-day sporting event on earth. During the swim, the bike and run there was never more than a 10m gap between Scott and Allen - they barely acknowledged each other, yet their obvious respect (and fear?) for each other was enormous.

Shoulder to shoulder in the run, these two guys gave everything and yielded nothing. Body language was everything, but gave away nothing...it was head-to-head racing at it's best, and completely living up to the race expectations of a fight to death, literally.

Finally Allen surged and dropped Scott with barely 2 miles left. The race was won. Allen had shaken the monkey, assumed the title and would go on to win five more times. Scott was amazing in defeat, but would never win in Kona again - it was a changing of the guard. This one race lifted them both to legendary status in a contest that has yet to be equalled in Ironman racing for all that it entailed. The best race ever (although 2010 comes close).

I've done all the dumb things

“I lost my shirt, I pawned my rings
I’ve done all the dumb things
And I get all your good advice
It doesn’t stop me from going through these things twice”Paul Kelly, “Dumb Things”

What is it about some people that makes them do dumb things? I mean, some of the stories that come up in the media about dumb people are amazing...then some of them have the gall to try suing to cover for their dumbness. As long as you’re not the person doing the dumb things it’s easy to be righteous and scoff, but the reality is that we all do dumb things, and the world of triathlons – and sports – is not immune from brain-fades. Being fatigued is not necessarily an excuse for some of these dumb things...

Fashion
What better place to start than an area open to so much personal interpretation and opinion. Oh my god!! I’ll start all the way back in the 80’s where triathletes could not wear enough different colours on the same outfit. Not just any outfit, but a lycra outfit...what were we thinking?? I remember my own pride after buying a unique piece from the well known “Fancy Pants” range – how proud was I? You could spot a triathlete from 100m just by their clothes (in fact, you still can...). This was also the era where blokes racing in budgie smugglers became standard...that is an image to scar your retina for ever...not to mention in combination with the old Oakley Factory Pilot glasses, which had more in common with ski goggles than sunnies...

Fast forward to current day and you could hardly say that triathlon is much better, just evolved. Triathletes have made the one-piece lycra suit, with pockets, a sun visor and fuel belt standard sports issue...but you could fairly say that the once conservative cycling fraternity has taken over in the range of colours on garments.

It should also be noted that triathletes provide living example of the placebo effect...commonly known as compression socks. Let’s just acknowledge that fitting into the triathlon world means doing dumb fashion things...

Over Training
More is better. Go hard or go home. Miles make champions. A bit is good...more is better. HTFU.
Each of those are very valid and good training principles...except when they’re in the hands of a triathlete who often see them as validation to train more...and more. Why wouldn’t you think like that, after all, there’s three sports to train for so why not just add together the training from each sport and dedicate yourself to being a training machine...just be careful not to do any races so you won’t interrupt your training and the weekly training numbers...x kms and y hours. Surely this is the way to succeed...

...except that it isn’t, and brings down countless triathletes each year into a pit of over trained fatigue. Over training is not just a dumb mistake, it is a dangerous one, also, for your body and mind. Some people get out of it lightly and relatively un-scathed, but others are like watching a train about to crash and being powerless to do anything about stopping it. Give over training a miss...it’s a dumb thing you’re best to learn about from others, not yourself.

Sunburn
Triathlon is a summer, outdoor sport, which means the sun is shining for many hours that you’re out and about training. While there seems to be a trend in society towards low vitamin D levels, triathletes would seem to have an abundance given the time they spend in the sun...which usually also means sunburn, an avoidable performance inhibitor...that hurts, too. How many times have you seen the typical triathlon sunburn mark on the back of someone post-race...ouch!! No amount of aloe vera can dull the pain and mark of sunburn, not just after races but during training. Sunburn is damaging but also preventable, so it gains an entry into the book of dumb things.

Equipment
Triathlons generally attracts a good demographic from society – high-achieving and generally above average wage-earners...which also means they’re quick to buy the latest bit of equipment. As a group, triathletes are early adopters which has been great for the component industry since they’ll always sell their products to un-suspecting test market with the promise of magical improvement. Over time some of the products evolve to being mainstream, like aero bars...but how dumb did the early adopters look with their bull-horn like Scott DH aero bars?? There’s been other equipment that hasn’t made it to mass-market status, like running shoe platform pedals, soft-ride bikes, and others, which didn’t stop many athletes from putting their faith – and hope – in them. Maybe not such dumb products, but dumb hope in them.

Ironman Pacing
Put your hand up if you’ve made this mistake...of going too hard too early in an IM, especially the ride, and being reduced to a shuffling, mumbling mess during the run? This one never fails to catch the over confident triathletes at a time when they’re at peak fitness and ready to conquer the world...except they neglected to take in account the reality of the situation and their abilities. Boom...crash. Sure as night follows day and the glow sticks come out, dozens of athletes in every IM ever held have fallen prey to this dumb mistake, especially when it is completely in their control. To borrow a popular phrase...epic fail!!!


Here’s some other dumb things to extend the list further, like...ignoring injury, spending too much time / money, taking triathlons too seriously, training with the wrong people, travelling to races with the wrong people, wrong / no nutrition, yada, yada, yada...

Suffice to say, these are just a few of the dumb things triathletes do, without fail, every year. Even the spread and sharing of experience amongst the triathlon community doesn’t help, just as Paul Kelly sang in his song...“And I get all your good advice // It doesn’t stop me from going through these things twice”. Dumb things serve to give others some entertainment, and hopefully a lesson of wisdom and experience to avoid next time.