Monday, June 11, 2012

Tapering Redux

As I begin this post, IM Coeur D'Alene looms a mere 14 days away.  Futzing with the stuff has begun in earnest.  Taking things off the bike, adding them on. . .I've sold the Zipp Tubulars and replaced them with Williams Clinchers and a HED Disc, partially so we can have more wheels for the $$$, partially to assuage my concern that I could fail to finish because I have no experience fixing a flat tubie (seen it on YouTube, but like many folks, I've never actually changed anything but a clincher).  I did a Retul fit with Brian Grasky this last Friday.  Yesterday, I did part of a swim workout in my new T1 wetsuit.  This is my civilized version of preparing for battle.

Although I know I've put in the time, my fitness seems to have developed a momentum of its own.  Swimming, biking, and running all feel pretty smooth and effortless.  I have learned what it feels like to bonk due to hypoglycemia, dehydration, electrolyte imbalance, physical exhaustion, emotional stress, and sleep deprivation, and I know how to respond to each when I see them coming.  No injuries plague me, and if I can avoid mechanical bike failure or another calamity, there's no reason why I won't finish, and do well both personally and relatively.  Completing the once unfathomable distance of a full Ironman--One Hundred-Forty Point Six Miles--now seems only a matter of pacing, hydration, and nutrition. 

Some visuals:


1) This season's Performance Management Chart from TrainingPeaks.com.  In brief, the blue line represents fitness, and the pink line represents tiredness.  Tiredness will drop off quicker than fitness; tapering is optimizing both so fitness is maximum while tiredness is minimum.



2) Totals for mileage/yardage, and training time per week, since Jan 1.



The big rides and runs are behind me; the hard work is done.  My weekly training hours have gone from 18 down to 14, and the next two weeks will be 8 (gasp) and 5 plus race (What am I going to do with all that time? I may even get caught up on honey-dos!).  As I begin to back off the total training hours, I am to some extent surprised by the level of residual muscle soreness that I feel, but most surprised by how accustomed to it I have become.  Letting it slip away will be strange, as I have equated the aches with improving ability.  But I will, as I am at the point where more hard workouts would only add more to my overall fatigue than ability.  My fitness, at least for this race, has been determined.  All I can do is tire myself out by overdoing it and not trusting the science of training.

An article I read by Alan Couzens of Endurance Corner clarifies the physiology behind the need to taper:

"Just like the cycles witnessed in bone repair, muscles undergo a similar repair process in response to load -- a clean up phase that goes on between days 3 and 14 post training and a repair and remodeling phase that occurs five to 35 days post training event(Duguez et al 2002). This can be illustrated as follows:"

Downward deflection is the initial stressor; upward deflection is the performance boost due to muscle remodeling.  Note the time course; no net benefit accrues for roughly three weeks.  Maximum benefit appears six weeks after a loading period.
Luckily, I have had tapering experience as a former competitive swimmer, and I'm reassured that some speed work coupled with resting will actually make me faster.  I've also had the experience of failing to back off, then hopping in the pool weeks after the end of the season and swimming better than I did in the big meet. Aside from info and workout planning, this is the main reason why I got a coach this season--not to ride my backside, but to yank my chain.  So I know that easing off is the straightest path to my goal, even if it is not my temperamental inclination.

That, and not gaining back a bunch of weight.   Karen is still a good cook.  Eating is still fun.  And throwing on 5-10 pounds in the next two weeks will definitely slow me down.  Carrot sticks, anyone?

Following are my goals for this race:

10. Survive
  9. Finish
  8. Finish without walking
  7. Finish in 95% confidence interval time (10 to 11 hours)
  6. Top 10 in AG
  5. Meet goal time (In the 10-11 hr range, I don't want to say specifically, as I'm superstitious)
  4. Qualify for Kona (probably top 4-5 in AG)
  3. Win AG
  2. Beat a fair number of pros
  1. Win the whole darned race

#7-10 should be straightforward assuming nothing untoward.  #4-6 will depend on how well I race, and to some extent, who else shows up.  #3 is rather unlikely, but not impossible.  #2 is getting absurd.  #1 involves selective lightning strikes, gravity surges, and other events of biblical stature that impact only people faster than me.

Yesterday, the plan for the final two weeks of training showed up in my inbox.  I dutifully entered it into TrainingPeaks.  My last entry was the race itself.  It asked for an estimated time.  Taking a deep breath, I input my expectation, then hit, "enter."  Feet began tapping.  Butterflies.  The full weight of this undertaking, combined with my hopes and expectations, were suddenly staring down at me, monolithic and imposing.  Next thing I noticed, I was pacing around the room.  My hands were mildly tremulous.  I realized that what I want, most of all, is to finish.  Anything else would be gravy.  Actually, it's all gravy.  And it's all been fun. 

Today, I am healthy, well trained, and by any measure, ready to do an Ironman.  This will not always be the case, and I definitely have an attitude of gratitude not only for my health, but also that this amount of self-indulgent fun was in my Higher Power's plan for me. 

Biggest thanks to Karen and the kids for their support!

More after the race.