Thanksgiving

My fridge is now almost overflowing with tomorrow’s dinner, which will take me 7 or so hours to make and 10 minutes to eat. This 10 minute dinner might be slightly extended should a necessary bathroom break arise or should Sadie – God forbid – spill a drop of water on her pants, which would result in the need of an immediate and complete outfit change. Dinnertime at the Chapin household is a combination of wrangling cats (or in our case, Oliver and Sadie, neither possessing the ability to sit on their chairs for more than 4-5 seconds at a time), a timed, food eating contest (we can only try to eat our food as quickly as possibly before we are being climbed upon or an ‘emergency’ arises), and a good, old fashion sing-a-long sung at the only volume we seem to know: extraordinarily loud. And the second we are finished, or sometimes long before we are finished, the kids are climbing into our laps for cuddles while we dish up dessert.

Not that I’m complaining, as I love dinnertime at our house, and I am thankful for everything about it. Well, perhaps not the outfit changes…

Sadie: Aaaaah, I’m wet!
Me: I don’t feel anything. I think you’re completely dry (feeling her shirt and pants).
Sadie: I’m wet all over!
Me: Where? Show me where you’re wet?
Sadie: Here (pointing to an infinitesimal, dry spec on her shirt), and here (pointing to the bottom of her socks, also dry as can be).
Me: Your shirt and your socks are dry; you are not wet.
Sadie: I’m soaking. I need new clothes.
Me: OK, let's go upstairs and get you a new outfit.

At this point I usually want to pour a pail of water on her head to teach her a lesson about what being wet is really about, but that would just require me cleaning up a bigger mess, not to mention having to calm a hysterical 3-year old (assumption, here, I promise). I then try to put myself in her shoes and realize it must be very difficult having a parent as slow, dimwitted and irrational as me. I also realize the time of the kids constantly demanding our attention and wanting to crawl on us like squirrels on a tree will be short lived, so I try to enjoy and be thankful for every moment.

Be careful what you wish for, but thankful for what you get…

Inspiration Found

Inspiration can come from strange places at unexpected times. A week ago I received an email from a Cam, a teammate of mine, which simply stated he predicted I would go 9:35 and win my age group at IMCDA next June. When I first read it I thought nothing of it, but by the next day I not only started to believe it but also was chomping at the bit to begin training again. Thanks, Cam! Funny how a simple statement or thought can get the ball rolling…

Although I’m a firm believer in setting goals based on controllable variables (such as following pacing and nutrition plans), I still believe you need a carrot to chase. A time objective is really an outcome which results from following a detailed plan, but the key is that the objective has to be realistic, and needs to be broken down – or transferred – to those variables you can control. For me, it goes something like this:

Desired outcome: 9:30 (1:02:30 swim / 3:30 T1 / 5:08 bike / 2:30 T2 / 3:13 run)

I don’t think I’ll need to do much to my swim or my bike. I’ll dedicate about as much time to my swim as last year, and any additional time cut off will be considered a bonus. My bike goal will be to add about 10 watts to my FTP heading into the race, with a race goal of 240 avg. (I averaged 231 and did a 5:13 in IMWI last year). I also need to work on endurance, as last year I generally felt very good in 70.3 distances but a bit weaker in the longer stuff. I only averaged about 125 miles/week, and think I can see a fair amount of improvement with a bit more volume and a bit more targeted interval time.

Heading into IMWI last year I felt very confident in my run, but it just didn’t come together on race day. Grated, my run wasn’t bad and I’m definitely not complaining with my 3:22, especially given the conditions, but I want to – and expect to – do better. I don’t think I need to make any major adjustments to my run training, although I will up my weekly volume over the winter by about 10% vs. last year, and hopefully my body will adapt without any rebellion.

When I write it down I realize that although I don’t really need big improvements in any discipline. I do need to be consistent in building my base and begin working on increasing horsepower on the bike, which I started on Tuesday of this week (ouch, but I’m ahead of where I was last year!). I need to come up with some intermediate goals (checkpoints) to shoot for, but that will come once I start to frame out the spring race schedule. For now, I have what I need, which is the dangling carrot, which I will need beginning tomorrow morning when the alarm goes off at 4:30 for my winter-base, Saturday morning Computrainer ride…

Where you start is not as important as where you finish.
-Anonymous

I’ve been thinking a lot about this quote lately because I’m not sure exactly where, or when, to start. Even when you love exercise and competition as much as I do, we’re all ultimately still creatures of habit, and my habit of late has been sloth. I realize end of the season rest is much needed, but I always wrestle with how far to let myself go, and when to start – or jump back into – the game?

2010 might prove to be a challenging year for me, as I am tremendously goal-driven yet I find myself without any goals. Sure, I have both Ironman Coeur d’Alene and Ironman Hawaii, but to be perfectly honest, I am motivated by neither. IMCDA is too early in the year for me to find fitness for a good result, and since I’ve already qualified for Hawaii, there’s no looming incentive there. And Hawaii…I really want to just soak in the experience and then be able to chase the kids around for a week and drink Mai Tai’s on the beach in the evening, preferably in that order.

So I need something to call a target. Perhaps this is the year where I try something new? I just know I need to get going, and get going soon. Or at least get back into the habit of a routine. A routine, that is, which doesn’t involve unlimited amounts of Halloween candy.