Vision Quest Coaching
Saturday -- The Throwdown at Jalama Beach
Guess what folks, it's 6am. That means I'm runnin'. 45 minutes easy. It actually helps get the legs going after yesterday's follies. If you don't recall: Yesterday I found new intensity zone called "Mucus".
Some breakfast and then I get ready for today's ride. It's a 25 mile easy warm-up and then a 28 mile staggered start road race that will take us up and over the last range of hills/mountains before the Pacific. Sounds nice. And then a 25 mile ride back.
Again, the 25 miles is needed to get the legs going and I feel OK. All I want to do is stay with the front group for the first 1/2 of the race (it's an out and back) and then hang on for dear life. There are eight groups and I'm in the 7th group and the 2nd to last to leave. Robbie Ventura and a couple of other coaches are in the group and then some other riders. We're off and Jerry Pianto decides that my steady 350-400 watt pulls aren't as hard as he wants to go. He thinks 650 watts is what's needed and our group is whittled down to 4 guys within 3 minutes of the start. Robbie, Jim Sauls, Jason Schisler and myself. I'm really the odd ball out here. The only triathlete. I'm out of my element and it's obvious they don't need me to keep rollin' up the road.
I hang on for a while, we hit a little climb and I'm missing that little extra to ride uphill with them. No worries, I keep my foot on the gas knowing that I can ride with group 8.
Gordo goes by. Fast.
I look around. No group 8. They're way back. Keep climbing and then they come. I give everything to come over the top with them and we head down the hill. It flattens out and we paceline, I take my pulls. We're flying by the shattered riders of the groups in front of us. We hit another climb and I'm missing 50 meters to stay on. I pay dearly for my 600 watt efforts at the beginning of the race. There are no fast wheels coming by anymore. It's a time trial for me the rest of the day and I'm not happy. At all.
There's really nothing to do but put my foot on the gas and hold Mucus intensity to the finish.
Only with 5K to go do I start to blow a little and a rider jumps on my wheel. I demand that he pulls, but he can't for a little while. Finally he comes to the front and promises not to sprint by me. A couple of campers use a firetruck as a draft to catch up to me. And they're closing little by little. You can't will yourself to go faster. Either you can or you can't. I can't.
We hit the last hill and I drop my chain. I get it back on in a reasonable time and start sprinting. The rider I paced lets me by. Noble, but not necessary. And I get to the finish and fall down next to my bike.
I've got 25 miles of riding and a 3000m swim left. I know I'll get through it. I'm really at the end of a 30 hour training week. I've backed it up day after day with solid, hard and mucus level riding. I get up from the ground and when I get back to the hotel I see that I've set personal bests that day at almost every important time duration.
I ride back with Tim. He's 52 and he's been riding at the back of my group all week. Impressive. Coaches, elite triathletes and Tim. I ask him what he's learned about himself at camp. He says:
"Limits are sometimes arbitrary."
I couldn't agree more.
Some breakfast and then I get ready for today's ride. It's a 25 mile easy warm-up and then a 28 mile staggered start road race that will take us up and over the last range of hills/mountains before the Pacific. Sounds nice. And then a 25 mile ride back.
Again, the 25 miles is needed to get the legs going and I feel OK. All I want to do is stay with the front group for the first 1/2 of the race (it's an out and back) and then hang on for dear life. There are eight groups and I'm in the 7th group and the 2nd to last to leave. Robbie Ventura and a couple of other coaches are in the group and then some other riders. We're off and Jerry Pianto decides that my steady 350-400 watt pulls aren't as hard as he wants to go. He thinks 650 watts is what's needed and our group is whittled down to 4 guys within 3 minutes of the start. Robbie, Jim Sauls, Jason Schisler and myself. I'm really the odd ball out here. The only triathlete. I'm out of my element and it's obvious they don't need me to keep rollin' up the road.
I hang on for a while, we hit a little climb and I'm missing that little extra to ride uphill with them. No worries, I keep my foot on the gas knowing that I can ride with group 8.
Gordo goes by. Fast.
I look around. No group 8. They're way back. Keep climbing and then they come. I give everything to come over the top with them and we head down the hill. It flattens out and we paceline, I take my pulls. We're flying by the shattered riders of the groups in front of us. We hit another climb and I'm missing 50 meters to stay on. I pay dearly for my 600 watt efforts at the beginning of the race. There are no fast wheels coming by anymore. It's a time trial for me the rest of the day and I'm not happy. At all.
There's really nothing to do but put my foot on the gas and hold Mucus intensity to the finish.
Only with 5K to go do I start to blow a little and a rider jumps on my wheel. I demand that he pulls, but he can't for a little while. Finally he comes to the front and promises not to sprint by me. A couple of campers use a firetruck as a draft to catch up to me. And they're closing little by little. You can't will yourself to go faster. Either you can or you can't. I can't.
We hit the last hill and I drop my chain. I get it back on in a reasonable time and start sprinting. The rider I paced lets me by. Noble, but not necessary. And I get to the finish and fall down next to my bike.
I've got 25 miles of riding and a 3000m swim left. I know I'll get through it. I'm really at the end of a 30 hour training week. I've backed it up day after day with solid, hard and mucus level riding. I get up from the ground and when I get back to the hotel I see that I've set personal bests that day at almost every important time duration.
I ride back with Tim. He's 52 and he's been riding at the back of my group all week. Impressive. Coaches, elite triathletes and Tim. I ask him what he's learned about himself at camp. He says:
"Limits are sometimes arbitrary."
I couldn't agree more.
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