Countdown to Ironman Coeur D'Alene 08

Twenty-two days until Ironman Coeur D’Alene. I hadn’t really been counting the days down this time, until I realized today that it was the first of June. When did that happen? Has spring arrived yet? It sure didn’t feel like it today in Vancouver, at the 137-metre outdoor saltwater pool a few blocks away, by Kits Beach. This pool is usually full of sunbathers soaking up the rays on the deck while the odd serious swimmer hops in for a lake-like simulation swim. Given how big it is, the pool needs a series of hot-weather days to warm up its massive body of water to an acceptable 78 degrees. Britni and I hazard to guess it was 73 at best. We contemplated using our wetsuits, but realized that this would surely catapult us into tri-geek territory. We heard many people using the “getting used to swimming in my wetsuit” excuse but we agreed that it was the sissy way of swimming in this outdoor pool. With the wind howling at our backs, we opted to play it cool and jump in sans protection other than two swim caps (to keep the heat in). Needless to say, we suffered dearly but we sure looked tough—I hope!

Outside of swimming at Kits Pool today and two half Ironman races this spring, I will not have had an authentic opportunity to swim in open water as practice prior to Coeur D’Alene. Since I feel very comfortable in my Nineteen Frequency wetsuit and love the open water, I am more than confident in my swim preparations for race day. For the record, I’ve given myself an “A” for effort in attempted open-water swimming, since three weekends ago, Monica Marchenski and I were in Penticton for some Ironman specific training and woke at 4 am to eat breakfast, swim an hour in Lake Okanagan, ride the IM Canada and polish the day off with a run. We arrived at the lake at 6:30 am, lathered our bodies with glide, pulled on our wetsuits, warmed up our shoulders and psyched ourselves up for the lake swim only to discover that after walking in up to our ankles the water temperature was glacial, and in our opinion way too cold to even consider a swim. We guessed it to be maybe 6 or 7 degrees Celsius. The onlookers had a good laugh at us “triathletes” as we sheepishly unzipped our suits of armour and clambered back into the car. This episode put us on our bikes an hour earlier, which meant we were poolside and recovering by early afternoon.

After Napa Half Ironman on May 3rd, I took some time to recover before the Ironman build-up. As luck would have it, I got to go home to Montreal and celebrate my father’s 65th birthday with my family, including my niece and nephew, Jacqueline and Harrison (Jackie & Harry). Spending time with these two quickly reminds me that life is a game and the only things that really matter are sharing with others, eating our vegetables and getting to bed by 7:30 every night. It matters more that we are having fun than how we look. It matters more to be curious to learn than to have all the answers (although Jackie is usually curious and knows the answer). It matters more to laugh out loud along the way than to get to the destination miserable. My visit with them reminded me of my passion for this sport and all the people that I am surrounded by while training and racing.

Once back to Vancouver, my training ramped up and I was ready for it! The crux of my preparations has focused on a few key workouts each week, set up by my coach. After a long rainy and cool winter, it was definitely time to train outdoors, rain or shine. My favourite training destination is Penticton, the home of Ironman Canada, and some of the best cycling routes. Monica, also racing in Coeur D’Alene, and I made the trek to Penticton two weekends in a row for some focused hours of riding, running, (no swimming) and recovering. The first trip was hot, windy, and sunny. We had many co-triathletes to keep us company during the ride. It seems “our friends” were participating in a camp with Kevin Cutjar and Barb Scatchard. Since this was a supported ride, they had a van meeting them at various spots along the way with cold water and fueling options. Monica and I, being hard-core, fended for ourselves. The weather was so hot and the wind so strong, we ran out of fluids much earlier than anticipated on the backside of the ride. This forced us into Keremeos for a water and food stop. I think we both consumed a full bag of pretzels each along with Coke, Smarties and anything else we could find that looked appealing. This rest stop did the trick and gave us a second wind for the infamous Yellow Lake climb. Monica had a very strong ride, and we managed to stay together for almost the entire day. We were in sync with each other and communicated with body language. We both knew we would review the nuances of the day over dinner that night and enjoy reminiscing about our personal ebbs and flows during our 6 hours of cycling.

We followed a similar travel program the following weekend, except we upgraded our accommodations and Monica improved our meal preparations tenfold. Let me just say we were dining like queens, with homemade nibbles for all our snacks! The purpose of my ride was far most focused than the week prior and Monica was onboard. We agreed to ride as continuously as possible for 180 kms with only the shortest stops for water and a pee. Isn’t that how we race, after all? We hung together for the first two hours and arrived at Richter’s Pass 20 minutes quicker than the previous time! This was encouraging— we were on track for a solid uninterrupted ride. Monica was again in fine form but chose to make her own way at her own speed … as did I. We reconvened for only the shortest time a few hours later, suffering separation anxiety, but managed to say goodbye until the end. I experienced but one small hiccup of low fluids at miles 95-100 with no store in sight—only vineyards and farmland. Once regrouped, thanks to the water tap at Yellow Lake, I was back on track and riding strong to the end with a sweet short run to top off a great day.

I would like to extend sincere thanks to Monica for her driving. She drove 90% of the time, which allowed me to do a bit of computer work in the passenger seat.

The preparation phase of building to an Ironman is when I do quality thinking about ongoing projects, lifetime dreams, friendships, family, and my sport. I always end a training session feeling richer in thought and more motivated to “do” than before. Sometimes I wish I had a scratch pad and pen with me to jot down quick thoughts. I went so far as to create acronyms with the first letter of each person I was thinking about during my last 2-hour jaunt to ensure I would follow up with them. But when I am out for a focused training session, my whole existence is concentrated on the effort, the experience, and the flow of the movement. After those sessions, I find myself refreshed and fulfilled, with a sense of clarity to address life, work and responsibilities.

With three weeks to go until my 2008 Ironman event, I can wholeheartedly say my preparation and learning have been the best to date in my professional career as a triathlete. This past weekend I rode with Britni for the first time in a few weeks. We met in Lynden, Washington and climbed Mt Baker. The round trip was 6 hours and close to 180 kms. Fortunately we were both in the same mind space of enjoying a long ride together with no sets, no intervals, no tempo work—just ride, chat, listen to music, take in the scenery and bank the endurance. We did just that and had a few good laughs. We did end the weekend with a cold swim in Kits Pool, as mentioned, but we chalked it up to “flushing” more than a workout.

I would like to finish by sharing an email from my coach Kevin Purcell, who has just returned home from Italy after training under the founder of Active Release Technique (ART), Mike Leahy. It certainly gave me food for thought.

Kevin writes:

“The seminar is in Italy and while we have been quite busy in the classroom I have been able to get in a couple rides (some rain, some sun) in the Tuscan countryside. I look forward to sharing details and perhaps a couple photos. I do appreciate your patience as communication has been slowed and phone time almost nil. Some of us are already planning some time together to discuss key sessions or post race briefings as well as training nuances that always occur as we juggle work, family and sport. Lets keep working to communicate.

Interesting notes on communicating:

I don't speak Italian. However I get loads of information from eyes, hands, tones, inflections, smiles/frowns, head nods etc. I can tell when I have made someone happy or when I leaned my bike against the wrong building! The words are not always clear—so communication is not always perfect.

For us (you and I), we communicate so much via e-mail, it is important that we be extra vigilant in our efforts to share ideas, theories, feelings, concerns, pleasures, humor and frustrations. E-mail is an acquired skill. Why? Because while the words are crystal clear, we are absent the hands, the smiles, head nods, the tone or inflections that make communication for me in Italy possible at all.

One arena has fewer words / one arena fewer clues. Very important that you all remember we are on the same team and pulling in the same direction. I work for you and am here to help solve the puzzles we face in sport as they best fit into your busy daily lives. That puzzle is different for each of us and is why I enjoy my work so much. Never assume my meaning if you have questions. Always ask for clarification. Sometimes I think I am funny and you may think I am impatient. Much can be lost if we are not careful to consider the possibilities. The language barrier I have faced this week in Italy reminds me of these facts.”

Stay tuned & thank you!Christine