Swim Friends 2 - Remedial swim training

At my second swim squad workout the coach Steve is shocked and appalled at my breathing exclusively on my left side.  Apparently it is not worth bothering working on other stroke mechanics until I can get down the basics.  

Breathing on my right side is a skill that has eluded me since first attempting to swim as a young child.  Fortunately over the past year through the osmosis of various swim drills, breathing on the right size has become a somewhat attainable feat, albeit in a clumsy and inefficient manner (my legs drop a bit on every breath).  

Steve has me doing nothing but 5-stroke breathing pattern always alternating sides, switching to a 3-stroke pattern when my swim mechanics deteriorate too much and I start sputtering and suffocating.  Steve informs me I can breath on my strong side in races but need to build balance and efficiency during training.  

Swim Friends

I drag my feet on joining our new Tokyo swim team - "Swim Friends".
Not because of the name (yes, Swim Friends is hardly the most
fear-inspiring swim team name, but I could understand that most of the
swim training market is young children).

No, it has taking me forever to join the swim team because: (1) I am
so destitute and increasingly parsimonious about paying for swim
workouts -- "my running and cycling teams do not charge $20 every
track session" I grumble, (2) I am lazy about going to swim outside
the comfort and convenience of Roppongi Hills Spa, and (3) Joining
swim squad requires a money transfer by bank ATM which is such a
complex ordeal for me in Japan.

But I need to prepare for the upcoming Kamakura 5k swim, and so on
Tuesday I journey to the public pool at Sendagaya. At 2:30 in the
afternoon the pool is blissfully empty.

After only a few warm-up laps our coach, Steve, starts providing me
useful feedback - (brush my shoulder against my ear on strokes to make
sure I am narrower and creating less surface resistance in the water,
try to kick more vertically, etc...).

Moreover, just having someone asking about my stroke count per lap and
breathes per stroke is valuable. At this point I can manage to do the
50-meters in less than 55 strokes and breathe on every 3rd or 4th
stroke.

I realize I should have joined Swim Friends earlier.

Niijima Triathlon

I competed in the Niijima Olympic Distance triathlon this weekend and did well - finishing 39th out of 170 finishers in a time of 2:28:15:

SWIM - 26:28 (93rd place)- I swam smoothly o

nce I got into a rhythm halfway through the first of the two swim laps. Swimming is the area I have been working on the most, and I had hoped to see more improvement since last year.  But it is hard to gauge swim performance (outside the controlled environment of the pool), and I struggled a bit in the open water and never really found anyone to draft comfortably behind.  I had dreams of keeping up with Motozo, but he was over a minute ahead. The cold water was a bit of a shock and may have slowed me a bit at the start by contributing to my need to initially breath on every stroke.  I suffered through 10-seconds of pure anguish upon plunging into the ocean at the start, and feeling cold water seep down my back into my wetsuit.  Yet I much, much, much, much prefer the tens of seconds of hardship at the start of the race versus the 40+ minutes of pure hell of running on a hot day (and sweating for an hour or more on the bike).  It was a bit of a challenge though getting out of wetsuit because my hands were a little numb and I was in the usual post-swim daze.  My transition must have been 4 minutes (but am not sure as the official transition times are included in the bike times.

BIKE - 1:22:05 (76th place): Unlike swimming, I had not trained much on the bike.  I recall writing the same thing last September about Murakami triathlon, and for Niijima my bike prepar

ation was even more feeble.  But I maintained my position reasonably well and 

felt like I was cycling pretty darn fast.  Niijima is described as a "technical" course with lots of tight corners and bumpy road surface and I am a particularly inept cyclist these days and kept hitting my brakes .  I found the bike course is reasonably flat considering this a is a mountainous, volcanic island.

RUN - 39:42 (4th place) - I ran very well, finishing with the 4th fastest run time in the field. Again, like at Murakami triathlon, my legs felt surprisingly good getting off the bike.  And like the Fuji-Susono half-marathon 

six days earlier, the Niijima run begins with a long, tough uphill and then continues to be a roller coaster pretty much the entire 10k.  But unlike Fuji-Susono, Niijima was cool weather and that made all the difference.  Niijima is a good course for seeing and cheering on teammates and it helped me to have the extra incentive of trying to overtake Phil and Nick.

NIIJIMA ISLAND - The Niiji

ma Triathlon is a wonderful weekend trip.  Embarking on the huge passenger boat at night from Tokyo feels like an exotic adventure.  And the island itself is in fact quite an exotic, tropical destination (especially considering you are still technically in Tokyo).   How many other triathlons have free, open air, natural hot springs beautifully perched on a rocky oceanfront cliff 300 meters from the finish?  The post-race party with most all the participants starts in these "Roman baths" then moves to sashimi dinner provided by the race organizers.  Cycling  around the spectacular island on Sunday morning completes the adventure.

(pictures courtesy of Mika T)

 

Gotemba Resort

Last year I could never be 100% sure that Mount Fuji really was looming over the Fuji Susono course, no matter what Yoshida-san kept saying - everything was shrouded in fog throughout the cold, drizzly weekend. And last year the half marathon was astonishingly easy for me - I somehow ran a 1:20:18 on the roller coaster course.

This past weekend at Fuji Susono saw clear weather and hot temperatures - Mount Fuji made for an impressive backdrop for all the photos that are huge and festive group took. And this year the half marathon was astonishingly difficult for me - I ran a 1:25:03 and even struggled on the long downhill finish.

Everyone was a bit slower this year - I only dropped from 4th to 6th place in my division. But my teammates did not seem to struggle nearly as much as I did. Perhaps I am weaker in the heat like I always like to complain about.

Or perhaps my 30+ teammates were just more realistic and wiser than me and took my advice about just relaxing at the bizarre Gotemba Resort and microbrewery.

Ome Takamizu 30k

Your longest runs should never be more than 50% of your weekly mileage according to conventional running wisdom.  I suppose this is even more true if the long run is a rugged trail race like last Sunday's Ome Takamizu 30k. 

The past two Ome Takamizu races I had fared so well. This year I followed the same strategy as the last two times -- going out slowly and surging past people over the final two-thirds of the run. Through about the 22k mark everything unfolded as it had the previous two runs and as I moved up to 25th place. But then I simply ran out of strength. 

The thing that puzzles me is not why I ran out of strength this year - it is how I could have done so well the past two races on such little training (50k or less per week of running).  My theory is that I had been doing so much more ironman bicycle training (and a few more mountain trail runs). 

Tokyo Marathon 10k

I woke up on Sunday morning before the Tokyo 10k focused on one thing - fighting my way through the crowd of runners at the starting line to get a good position.  I was assigned the "B" block. When teammates Keren and Frank and I arrived in the B corral 35 minutes before the starting gun we could barely make out the starting white block off in the distance, with the thousands of runners packed in front of us (see picture).  We tried to be as polite as possible as we wound through the crowd, and maneuvered our way to a spot within only 10 meters of the starting line.  We had done it!  Frank and I congratulated each other on our accomplishment - "otsukare sama".

When the starting gun did go off it struck me that I still needed to actually run the damn race.  Being so close to the front meant I went out like a bat out of hell.  I felt tired almost immediately, and struggled in the wind. 

I spotted a pack of runners with one guy wearing "pace runner" on his back and tucked in behind them.  I discovered the pack was surrounding Harumi Hiroyama, the second seeded Japanese female marathoner.  It turns out she was running 3:29 per kilometer pace and I dutifully (and stupidly) followed.  I knew almost immediately I would be in trouble and could not maintain the pace.  But much of the first 6k was downhill so I just hung on as long as I could.  My 5k split was 17:22, 6k was 20:51.

The last 3k into the wind was an ordeal. Once the 10k and marathon groups split there was suddenly no other runners near me.  I staggered home in 36:22.

36:22 is an acceptable time for me - it is about what I ran in my last three 10ks, but it was hardly spectacular.  However the effort was good for 7th place out of 5,000 runners.  The crowd and volunteers cheered me at the end like I was a famous star.  It was all rather glorious, and I felt that the effort to get to the front at the starting line did pay off.

Masters Swim at Pebble Creek

I joined the masters swim sessions at the Pebble Creek community pool during my recent stay in Arizona. Pebble Creek is an "active senior community" - and so, as you might expect, the community swim squad is an intense and competitive group. On one side of me is Jim, a retired schoolteacher, who started entering sprint triathlons and he sprints out way ahead of me on the 300 meter warmup and first set of 75s. Meanwhile on my other side is Katherine a 70+ Senior Olympics swimmer. I manage to stay well ahead of her on the warmup, but then she puts on a pair of long fins and on the 75 meter intervals we swim neck and neck. The group does the usual variety of swim drills and our coach, Bill, is excellent - goading us on and reminding me to keep my gaze farther ahead, keep my hands flatter as they enter the water and not to let my arm stroke cross over the centerline of my body.

We finish the workout with 8x200s - each length of 200 at progressively faster pace. With each 200 I work hard to swim faster, while my fellow swimmers seem to be tiring. On the final intervals I push myself with all my remaining strength and simply destroy Jim and the 70-year old woman - finishing at least half a length ahead.

Gasping and wheezing at the edge of the pool I lock eyes with a grotesquely overweight woman plopped in a lounge chair amidst the crowds of poolside sunbathers. I detect a look of outright disgust. Perhaps the sunbathers are annoyed by our splashing and noise? or feeling guilty at lolling all day long in the Arizona sun? Meanwhile however I feel a sense of camaraderie now with the rest of the swim squad, and they seem impressed that my interval times are faster at the end of the workout than at the start. "You have remarkable stamina" Coach Bill tells me. I am feeling a bit sheepish about all my competitiveness with 70 year old women, and don't want to babble on about ironman.. I simply say that yeah I have done a bit of long cycling and running and it seems to help make up for my poor technique.

Running in Arizona Desert

It is 85 degrees (3l degrees Celsius) as I head off into the desert for my long Sunday run.  Fortunately the temperature drops rapidly as the sun sinks to the horizon and so I start my run around 4pm in an effort to finish just past sunset..  Once I get beyond the inner 2-mile loop, crest a hill and look out and see no one else for miles.  Just hundreds of enormous saguaro cactus.   I run at what seems like a solid speed, but the trail drops in and out of washes (dry river beds) and by the time I hit the 14k mark I realize I need to pickup the pace.   Unfortunately I am tiring a bit by this time.   I see birds circling round and round above me and I assume they are vultures who are betting that I will not make it back to the trailhead and that they will be able to feed on my carcass.  I push on more quickly and the sun casts amazing shadows against the mountains.  I am really tired at 16k and alternate between walking the rocky, hillier sections and sprinting sections of flat, hard-packed trail.  Of course it is dangerous and imprudent to start the run so late.  (And I should know better having once scrambled through the dark across lava in Volcano National Park in Hawaii - guided by the sight of car headlights on a distant highway).   But after the sunset the red sky in the desert and the lights of the sprawling city of Phoenix are magnificent.  (and I refuse to run in the afternoon heat)  

Running at Google

On Friday I traveled to the Googleplex, Google's headquarters in Mountain View California, to run with my Berkeley classmate Glen and the Google employee lunch run group  

I thought about

 complaining about all the problems I have loading pictures and charts into this blog (Blogger is owned by Google), and complain about my startup's poor ROI on our adwords campaign.  But I am just way too exhaused as we race around the landfill area next to SF Bay.  As you might expect at Google, the runners are intense - several are competitive triathletes.  

Supposedly even Google has been forced to cutback on expenses during the global economic crisis - but any austerity drive was not apparent to me.  After the run we quenched our thirst with unlimited free smoothy drinks and showered in the comfortable employee changing rooms.  And it is a challenge to choose from the unlimited free food prepared by world-class chefs in the cafeteria - spicy green curry soup, black sea bass, masala chicken - it went on and on.  

Palo Alto Tri Club

I lived in Palo Alto, California from roughly 1997-2002.  In those days I thought a lot about becoming a triathlete but did little other than bike through the rolling Peninsula hills and occasionally join a group jog on Wednesday nights through the streets of Palo Alto.

 

On Wednesday, I finally make it back to the weekly 5.5 mile run.  Of course I intended to keep up with the leaders and demonstrate how impressive I have become.  However I get cutoff at a light at around 2 miles and never manage to catch up. 

Just like in Tokyo the group goes out to a Vietnamese restaurant after the run.  Vietnamese food seems to have become the universal choice among run clubs.  Except in this case it is a spacious restaurant in a strip mall along El Camino rather than a cavernous hole-in-the-wall.   And I also could also tell this was America because with everyone at dinner talked about their jobs and their investment portfolios.

Sitting there it felt that nothing had changed since 2002, but then I recall that at least now I have some claim of being a real triathlete.   

Shibuya Ekiden

My teammates in our 4-man relay last Sunday really set me up for glory.  I was the anchor runner and was handed the sash in second place in the field, 5-seconds behind the lead master's team.

Within 500 yards I managed to catch the leader, and then stayed behind him, thinking maybe I should just wait until the last 100 meters and t

ry to sprint.  But, as captured in this picture, I surged into lead at around 

1k and held on to cross the tape 12-seconds ahead of second place.

Here are my teammates and team sponsors, Juergen and Fabrizio, amidst the 

extravagant Shibuya award celebration.  

Beer mile

I ran a beer mile yesterday.  

A beer mile entails drinking one beer befo

re each of the 400 meter laps that make up a mile. 

Why would I do this?  

I had heard a lot of discussion of the beer mile from my teammates and studied the beer mile website and was simply curious -- how would I do?

I did terrible. 

When the starting gun went off I realized quite quickly that I ca

nnot drink a can of beer as quickly as other people.  I caught up with many of the other participants on the first 400 meter run lap and felt fine run

ning.  But then I had to choke down a second beer which seemed to take forever and I found myself in last place.  The third beer took me 2-3 minutes to consume, and the fourth beer was not much faster.  It felt so good to stop drinking the horrid beer and be able to run.  I still felt quite strong and fast running even the 4th 400 meter lap.  Though on the 4th lap of the race I somehow got lost.  Apparently I was a bit drunk by this point - none of the other 20 odd runners seem to have gotten lost on the simple loop through the park.   

"You are not a strong drinker are you Jay?" asked Satohi, Japan's number one beer miler who finished in an extraordinary time of 8:10.  Apparently drinking is not my strength.

Next year I am hoping for a coffee mile. 

Training in Laos (3)

The global credit crisis has made it more difficult to support the high cost of training in Tokyo. Several other triathlete friends are thinking of relocating to Laos where we can survive on less than US$10 per day.

The biking is a bit rougher, so we need to re-focus a bit on competing in the Xterra type events which entail mountain biking and trail running. I managed to find some good cycling and hiking routes along the Mekong and was able to begin preparation for the Saipan and Ome-Takamizu events in the Spring.

Triathlon Training in Laos (2)

Vang Vieng proves to be another fine city for triathlon training. I plunge into the scenic Nam Song river for swim training and the water appears clean and free of snakes, piranhas and villagers doing laundry. In fact the only real hazard is dodging the flying drunken bodies. A third of the way into my swim I round a bend and come upon the most surreal site -- an enormous and elaborate deck bar perched above the river with a huge slide and rope swing and hundreds of inebriated, bikini-clad Australian and European young woman swaying to blaring Laotian pop music - it reminds me of the Suzie Q entertainment scene in the movie Apocalypse Now. As always I stay focused on my swim technique.

The next morning at dawn I run up in the limestone hills surrounding the town Most travelers take the jarring, spine-crushing trucks to explore the caves. Running is much more easy and sublime - especially at this hour when it is just me and a few cows and villagers.

Running in Luang Prabang

Luang Prabang proves to be a fine city for triathlon training. This is especially true if you wake at 6am for 12k run along the Mekong river and around the historical former capital of Laos. The best thing about running so early is stumbling onto the quintessential Luang Prabang experience: the procession of saffron-robed monks collecting alms from the townspeople lining the street. It was quite magical to accidently discover this on a quiet edge of town. I try to be respectful and try not to gawk too much at the monks. Upon reaching the center of town the alms-giving process deteriorates into a tourist spectacle with throngs of westerners with cameras and local vendors.