The Silent Swimmer | Hammer Time in Hanmer | Lost in Translation


The Silent Swimmer

On our last day in Taupo, I woke up to Gordo banging on my door, “Time to go swimming!” Ugh, I wasn’t into swimming this morning. I was tired, and it was pouring rain outside. I managed to drag myself out of bed and into the van where I was then informed my main set today would be a 2K time trial. Double-ugh!

Well, we were swimming in an outdoor pool in the rain. I always dig that, so my mood lifted a little. Did my warm up and then settled into my time trial. I wasn’t busting a lung by any means, but I think I was working... a little.

After the swim, Gordo told me that my steady paced swimming now all has to be five seconds per 100 meters faster. Anything over that is too cruisy for me. This is the second time since I’ve been back in NZ that he’s tightened up my pace. I guess that’s a good thing, eh. ;-)

Scott Molina agreed with Gordo saying that I was too quiet of a swimmer, therefore not pushing it at all. He said swimming in the lane beside me I didn’t make a sound, but when he swims beside Clas during a TT, he needs earplugs. "Make waves, girl!" he says. So, the theme of the day is, ‘you must work harder’.

[ Addendum — Two weeks later we did 50-meter sets for time and I came in consistently 10 seconds per 50 faster than two months ago. Working harder is paying off. :-) ]

2 February 2004


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Hammer Time in Hanmer

A couple months ago I was out on a long ride with my friend Neva, from LA. We were talking about doing a big weekend of training before the Ironman — road trip training.

I told her about a ride that the guys had done last year. I had only been in New Zealand for a couple of weeks at that time and was the support driver. The guys, however, rode 150K to Hanmer Springs on a Saturday, then the 150K back to Christchurch on the Sunday. It looked like a great ride to me and Hanmer was a cool little ski village with nothing but charm and atmosphere.

We decided that was what we wanted to do, but over three days so we could have a day between the big ride for a swim and long run. The first weekend of February is what we were planning. I ran it past Gordo thinking he might tell me that was a little too close to the race. Well, I got this big email back, copied to a bunch of other folks, with a whole itinerary planned. Not only did Gordo approve the idea, he thought it was perfect for himself and everyone else doing IMNZ.

The weekend we chose was a holiday weekend, so to avoid being on the roads with crazed tourists, we left on the Saturday morning. We went in two groups — Group A was myself, Neva and Lydnsey, a friend from Calgary who is training for Ironman Canada. This would be her biggest weekend on the bike. Group B was Gordo, Clas, Tanya and Kristie. Bjorn was still suffering a bit of a cold and wanted to stay home to rest a little more. Greg, Lyndsey’s boyfriend, offered to drive the car with all our gear and then do his own ride as an out-n-back.

The three of us, Group A, headed out early for Hanmer Springs. I rode from home to meet them at the QEII, so that added another 10K onto my ride. The first few hours of the ride were a little difficult — we had headwinds all the way to and past Amberley, but we were all in good spirits.

When we reached Culverden it had begun to rain. It wasn’t so bad really, it was light rain and intermittent. Plus, it was warm rain. Can’t complain about anything there then. Lyndsey was having some muscle trouble by then, but the girl is a trooper and kept on going.

My goals for the ride were to go whatever pace I wanted to the Hurunini Hotel — just past Culverden — then ride steady pace all the way to Hanmer (40K). I had been feeling pretty good and had been riding in my steady zone since 10K out of Amberley — and kept it rolling all the way.

Coming into the last 10K to our destination, I was passed by a farm tractor up a short hill. I didn’t think anything of it until I came to a downhill and ended up on its butt. On the flats now, sitting in on this big tractor, my HR dropping, I decided measures needed to be taken. So, I pulled out, dropped the dude and cruised on. ;-) A short while later I can hear this tractor coming up on me. No way man! I picked up my pace a little, which was good since I was starting to slip off my pace, and tried to keep it at bay. Hit another incline and he passed me. Fine then, I’ll motor pace it. I hopped back on and all was good, for about 3K then we came to another incline and I got dropped. Darnit! Dropped by a farm vehicle!

At the end of the day, it had taken us 6.5 hours to ride 98 miles. Not really all that impressive, but it was a good ride nonetheless and I was feeling great.

On the Sunday we had planned a morning swim followed by a long run in the trails. I woke up to the sound of Clas banging on Kristie and Tanya’s door, “Time to swim!” Not me man, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Woke up nice-n-leisurely, but tired. I took my time and then laced up for my run. I had planned to run for two hours, but after 30 minutes I was stumbling and tripping over everything and nothing. I know that sign well. When I can’t pick up my feet, I’m tired. So, I called the run at 60 minutes then went back to the lodge and napped for an hour.

The rest of the day was pretty mellow and we all walked into the village to tour around later.

Monday morning we woke up to a gorgeous day! Bright blue skies, no winds, pleasant temperatures... most invigorating. The plan was the same for the ride back to Christchurch — steady all the way, and that’s just what I did.

The first 70K was a rush! We must have had a bit of tailwind, not to mention the ride is mostly downhill all the way back to Christchurch, and we were flying. On one flat section I was holding 30.5 mph spinning out my hardest gear with my HR sitting well under steady. I was so loving that stretch. Then we got into the Weka Pass and I blasted through it like it was nothing. What a great ride!

It was all good until I got just past Woodend — the last stretch into Christchurch. The winds started to shift and I started losing my focus. It was slowly getting harder and harder to maintain my pace and I was up and down off my aerobars constantly.

When I rolled into Kaiopoi, Neva was waiting for me and knew I was having a little trouble. She had said earlier that my pace was like clockwork. She’s a stronger rider than I and would ride ahead at her pace, then wait for me at the villages. Every time I was the same eight minutes behind her. This time I wasn’t. She did some positive mental talking to me, got me on her wheel, and helped pull me through my lull. She rocks to ride with! She’s going to kick butt at IMNZ. It will be her first Ironman.

Not long I was back in my zone and holding my pace. We rolled into the QEII with a ride time of 4.5hours! We also managed to keep ourselves from getting caught by the G-Train (they left 70 minutes behind us). An easy half hour home from there and we totaled out 92 miles in five hours (we took the straight way home, knocking six miles out of the ride).

That was an excellent weekend all around. Have I ever mentioned how much I love this stuff!

9 February 2004


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Lost in Translation
I Can’t Count, but My Coach Can

Today was my last swim at QEII before I leave for Taupo. My plan for the swim was to do a short warm-up and then swim 3x 500 meters for time with the wetsuit. That was to be the main set.

I hit the water feeling fine, with the exception of some very odd niggling in my shoulders. I dismissed it, putting it off as those usual taper tweaks we all experience. Scale back all that high volume training and you notice every tiny little thing... and then have a tendency to make it bigger than it really is. So, I ignored it and it eventually settled down.

I set my watch up and pushed off the wall for my first 500 meters. I felt like I was moving at a steady pace, but I didn’t feel like I was flying along. It was a bit of work — as it should be. Came up to the wall, checked the watch — 8:35 — and thought, “What? How lame. I swim faster without the wetsuit.” I got it into my head that I’d done a 500m in seven minutes before and here I was, a minute slower, a week before the race, and I was in my wetsuit.

I set off for the second 500m and all I could think about was that my confidence was shattering. My mind was a battleground of constant banter... “You suck, you can’t do this...” “Shut up, yes you can...” “No, I can’t do it...” “Yes you can, its less than 10 minutes...” “I can’t...” “You can...” “Cripes, I’m too hot...” “Deal with it...” My stroke seemed slow and laborious, and when I finally hit 500m, the watch said 9:10.

I couldn’t believe it. My confidence was shattered. I wasn’t going to do another 500m in my wetsuit. Screw it. I was too hot and now that nasty little gremlin, Bob, was having a hayday in my head. I spent the rest of the swim thinking, “oh well, I know I can swim at least what I did last year...”

On deck after the swim, Gordo said it looked like was making some noise in the water and that was good to see. Ha! Hard to believe I was making any noise when I was sucking so badly. He asked my times and when I told him he asked what I was so pissed about. Poor Gordo, I’m sure he was trying really hard not to bust out laughing at me. You see, I have this thing with math. It doesn’t often agree with me. Being a numbers kind of guy, he worked out the splits in his head and said, “Do you know you were swimming 12 seconds per 100 faster than two days ago? Do you know you were swimming a 1:42 pace for 500 meters and your 100-meter PB is 1:41? You just swam the fastest 500m ever and set a new PB.”

Then I remembered that the seven-minute 500 I did was actually a seven-minute 400. Doh! Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory! I was feeling a little embarrassed, and grateful that Gordo was there to set me straight. Today’s lesson — whether I feel like I’m moving slow or fast, I’m going the same speed. That and I need to align my mind with my body. My body is race-ready, but my mind seems a little slow coming around. I have no doubt it will all come together this week. Tomorrow I arrive in Taupo. Once engulfed in the ironman atmosphere and surrounded by good friends, I’ll snap to it. IMNZ here I come!

29 February 2004


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The QEII 50m pool in Christchurch, NZ