Ironman Coeur d?Alene
2 Weeks To Go
Training To Date, Training Remaining & Random Thoughts

Training To Date

With a little over two weeks to go until Ironman Coeur d?Alene, I am in perhaps the best shape of my life and feeling confident about my abilities to tackle the course in Idaho. A part of me wishes I had one more century bike ride in my legs, but the other part of me knows it is not necessary, that I will be just fine on the bike. But this is also how I know I'm where I should be on the bike, because the only reason I want that extr a long ride is not for telling myself I can do the distance; it would be more that I could do the distance with pace, as in fast. Yeah, I'm ready.

Where I had worried about Coeur d'Alene being an early season Ironman, I now know that the timing of Coeur d'Alene probably could not be better. I had wondered if I could get the training in; I asked myself constantly: With such a short windown between winter and the event, could I get in enough real road miles on the bike to feel confident on the bike? Now I know the answer. It is a resounding YES! With the water in local ponds and lakes not warming enough for swimming until early- to mid-May, could I get in enough open water swims to feel confident of the distance? The answer is a hearty YES! My two biggest fears now worked into strengths, I am ready for Ironman Coeur d'Alene.

Two weeks out, my fears have been reduced to the swim (will it be choppy, will I be able to find clean water, will I not be able to relax and swim like I do, bilaterally), the dryness of Coeur d'Alene (will I get in enough water, or will the dryness do me in), the bike course (will the hills be "easy enough where I can push the bike at various stages), and the run (I want to run the entire marathon).

Ironman Coeur d'Alene, as much as I love to say your name, let the sexy words roll off my tongue, and write your foreign sounding title, I am coming for you in short time. But I am not out to get you; rather, I am coming to embrace you, to spend one very long day with you. I am coming to swim in your Lake, ride your hills up to Lake Hayden, and run your pathways and back into your resort city. I am coming to play happy with your people, acknowledge the other athletes just like me, and drink in the energy of only a town worthy enough to stage an Ironman event. Yes, Coeur d'Alene, I am coming for you. Bring what you may, for I am coming to play. Yes, Coeur d'Alene, I will be there shortly. I will be there to embrace you. Please do the same for me.

Bike
To date I have three century rides, several rides north of 60 miles, and one 85 mile "epic" point-to-point ride from Hartford, CT to Fishkill, NY with a total acent of over 14,000 feet. With much Trainer time to add to this, and the fact that some of those long rides with utter hammerfests, I am ready for the CdA bike course. A part of me really hopes the course is much easier than Wisconsin, for I have confidence on the bike, strength to push and hold, and the will to punch through to a decent bike time, but I know my limitation, and I know I can only do this on a flat to rolling course. It would be a shame if I couldn't do that in CdA. But I'm prepared for it. Should the hills be more akin to Wisconsin, I will gear down and save myself for the run. Otherwis e I will push hard starting at Mile 40, after the first serious of hills are over.

Hills at this point for me are a curious thing. I can ride the best of them. I can get to the top and start pushing shortly after, as my weekly hill ride, where I'd do repeats on a 2 mile long hill, the end of which is a half mile steeper climb. But in spite recovering quickly, I don't climb all that quickly. Instead, I work my way up those hills in my lowest gear, then start gearing up as I'm cresting. My point-to-point 14,000+ foot ascent ride proved to me that it can wear me down to the point where although I can still push, I can only do so on downhills and flats without wind. Hopefully Coeur d'Alene, and especially up by Lake Hayden, the hills will be of a manageable grade to allow my strength to shine.

Run
My quest at Marathon-A-Month-For-A-Year-Unles-Ironman-Gets-In-The-Way has left me ready for the run in Coeur d'Alene. I am not only in marathon shape, I am running stronger than I have in years. Hills don't take nearly as much out of me like the used to. That is strength. I also am please to announce that I can officially change the title of my quest: from here out I can refer to it as Marathon-A-Month-For-A-Year. The marathon in CdA will be month number ten.

Swim
To date I have a handful of 2.4 mile swims under my wetsuit, a few 2 milers, and countless others, all in open water, some in choppy water, but most in ideal conditions. It is not the distance that makes me feel confident in my abilities to cover the distance in Idaho; rather, it is the feeling I had after each of those swims. After each, I knew I could have swam farther. Where last year in my lead up to Wisconsin I felt fatigued and barely held to the end with obvious decreased form, this year on the same body of water I felt good and strong and was able to maintain faster yet steadier times per loop.

At this point my fears are reduced to chop. I have a very hard time swimming in wavy, choppy water, where I am tossed from side to side and thrown up and down as the waves come in and out. For whatever reason, I have a hard time in those conditions swimming near other people. I'm not able to swim bilaterally. I suck in too much water. And my breathing becomes more rapid. As much as I tell myself to remain calm, and as much as I do, I still have a hard time bilateral breathing. If I can nail this, my swim time will be fast (for me). If not, I know I will get through, but it will be slow.

Brick
I'm ready. My legs running off the bike have never felt better. Never. I can sit on the Trainer for 2.5 hours, just like I did this morning, put the hurt to my legs, wonder how the heck they can respond to run, and then sit back while they indeed pump and run as if I just woke up, laced up the shoes, and headed out for a run. This isn't to say its easy or always feels good; it's not, and it doesn't. But it is to say that I know, come June 24th, as long as I am patient and keep my stride short and leg turnover high, I can put on 8 miles before the really hard work will start, and by then I'll nearly be done with the first loop of the run course. Which means only one remaining.

Training Remaining

I'm done. Training remaining consists of one more long run tomorrow morning, maybe two more long swims, and perhaps one more two hour ride followed by a brick run. But I say I'm done because I don't need any of it. All these will do is to sync my mental state with race-specific pacing and keep the legs fresh and used to working against resistance.

Random Thoughts

o I have fond memories of my very first half Iron. Back then I thought that MiamiMan, which I did in November 2005, would be the end goal. In the back of my mind, I wanted more -- I wanted Ironman -- but I never thought I could do the distance. Although a childhood dream, Ironman seemed crazy, something other people did. In my race report for that race, before I even signed up for my first Ironman, I wrote this about the finish and dreams of the future:

"Farther up the winding pathway I saw the most pleasant sight: standing seemly in the middle of the course was the clipboard lady. She was looking at runner?s numbers, then the clipboard, and then directing them toward second loop. As soon as she saw me, she turned and yelled to someone stationed toward the finish:

?Finisher? a finisher.? She directed me into the finish line chute and smiled ? a smile I will never forget. Still with amazing leg turnover from having picked up the pace the final two miles, I ran briskly up the path. And that?s when it hit me. I saw the finish. The mob of people. The finish line again. More people. I heard my name and immediately saw Israel, a buddy of mine, cheering for me. It sent me nutty. I leapt and jumped as I ran, all the way up the chute toward the finish while pumping my first in the air and shouting, ?YEAH!!! Wo-hoooo? I did it! Then booming over the announcement: ?Finishing, number 454, Thor Kirleis from North Reading, Massachusetts? in a time of?? Spectacular colors flashed my world. I did it! I jumped in the air with both hands extended toward the sky as I crossed the finish line and punched the sky a final time. It was a moment that not only will be cemented in my head for a lifetime, but also a moment the friendly finish line photographer captured with me airborne and a fist thrusting toward one conquered dream and half way toward another."

'Half way toward another (dream)...' And to think I am now about to participate in my second Ironman. Thank you, Lord. I am blessed.

o If you don't run (or swim or bike) with other people, do yourself a favor and join a group or even find just one other individual. Group workouts, mainly those in small numbers, have been immense for not only my fitness but also my love of this sport. They keep it fun, keep you motivated, and keep everything in perspective. So treat yourself by doing a group run. Or call a buddy and meet her for a tool around town. It will breath new life into your training.

o Speaking of breathing new life into your training... As recent as 2005, I had been getting back into marathoning and was enjoying getting faster and doing speedwork and running with my buddies. Then in August of 2005 I got into all things triathlon. Little did I know what was about to hit me. Triathlon has not only gained me more fitness and many amazing friendships, it has also breathed new life into my running. To think now that I didn't have this back then amazes me for the life it has brought, almost as if I was missing out and never even knew it. Amazing. I love it!

o LRR is the BEST running buddy there is. Don't even try to tell me your running partner is better. He or she is not. LRR is the BEST. Period. This guy not only sings off tune on most of our runs and knows songs from way before I was born, but he also organizes just about every single one of our long runs, short runs, and everything in between. Not only that, he is also a role model in life for the goodness in his heart and the things he does for the community, and as a father, which to me is among the highest compliments I can give. And yeah, I've said this before... but some things deserve to be shouted out loud. So expect to see this again.

o I?m very excited about next year. Even though I still have so much remaining this year, with the entire season still ahead of me, I am very excited about next year because I think I figured out this whole bike thing and how to get strong. The key is what you do over the winter off-season. If Trainer workouts are done properly, immense strength can be gained. I'm beginning to think that the professional athletes know this while the rest do not. It's almost as if "free" speed is there for the taking. This past winter I was only able to take a bit of it, as I had just figured this out toward the end of the snowy months. But next winter, I will go back to that table to claim yet even more for the taking. I will be a monster on the bike. Or perhaps I will be God of Thunder and get to the point where I can drop my hammer whenever I choose. And still be able to run because, well, I'll by then be just too **** strong on the bike to not be able to run. However it works out, I am excited to build base next winter to take me to the next level. This is all strange for me because never in my athletic life have I actually looked forward to training workouts many months away, especially over a long winter; only now I know that the long the winter is a blessing, or maybe a card toward stregth, in disguise.

o I'm not even sure how to say this, but since it's on my mind and gets thrust into my mind more often than I'd like, I'd like to give credence to it so that perhaps I can forget about from here on out. Since I have gotten into triathlon, I've met a lot of great people. One of the things that perplexes me and makes me very sad is that some of these people have such angst with how others might view their performance, as if their life depended on it. I know this occurs in other facets of life, but it seems to be very common for people drawn to this great sport. Maybe it's because the sport prides itself on competition, on always beating the age grouper next to you, and because of that we have more competitive types drawn in. But still, I feel great sadness in my heart when somebody says, "I have nightmares that I'll come in last place," or "It would be the worst thing in the world to be last on the list." I suppose what I find sad in this is that... Who Cares? The only one who cares is YOU (the person scared of DFL). Other people are just happy that you're leading a lifestyle with goals and dreams. Why the embarassment? I'm not saying to come in last. But truth is, it doesn't matter what the time on the clock says. All that matters is how you feel about yourself. My local Tri-club posts via e-mail club finishers in each race. I kid you not when I say I know people who for one reason or another are embarassed by some of their race performances. That to me is not right. Maybe I don't understand, or maybe it's what motivates them to do better, or maybe something else... I think about Boston Marathon 2005. I crashed and burned. Hard. It was probably my worst marathon ever. I finished in 3:44, or something like that, when I was at that time going out for a sub-3:10. But I crashed and burned. I wasn't embarrassed of the effort. Instead, I took time to understand it and find out what went wrong. I used the lessons learned there to motivate me to correct my mistakes and make another go of it. But to be embarassed of my efforts is to disrespect myself and the hard work I put in. This topic bothers me so much that I don't even feel good about this paragraph.

o Bananas are my secret weapon. Before workouts, during if I can, and after, bananas rock!

o Two parts of Ironman Coeur d'Alene I can't wait for: first is the half marathon mark of the run, where hopefully I will see my little Ironmate. And second is the finish, where I hope to do something -- maybe a happy-dance, maybe a salute, I don't know -- but whatever it will be, it will be an appreciation from the heart for my thanks you all of you for the amazing support you've provided and the continued motivation you exude. It will not be planned; I will let the moment come to life. You guys are the best. Thank you. That will be for you.

o As much as Ironman is a full-time job, where basic chores get put aside for yet another long bike ride, I'm happy to report that I've been able to stay on top of my lawn. In my lead up to Wisconsin, my grass at time grew so long you would've thought nobody lived in my house. This time around my grass is trimmed. Just don't come in my house -- I haven't vacuum in a very long time.

o Having a solid support staff, be it a spouse, friend, or other, is perhaps the single most important thing that got me and many other athletes to an Ironman starting line. Don't underestimate your support staff, especially if you're thinking of making an attempt at dreams of Iron for yourself. A supportive staff will not only encourage you and keep you on the straight and narrow, they will also be there to do things you cannot, or work with you to make sure you get in your workouts, or even schedule workouts together.

o Speaking of support staff, I would not have made it this far toward Coeur d'Alene without a few people: my happy little sprout Iron-crew of one, my training buddies (especially that one running buddy), and the people on this very forum. My Ironmate of one tells me I can do it even before I get the thought in my head that maybe I'm in over my head. Little Ironmate congratulates me on a key workout just as a mother would a child who brought home a report card. Not only that, but she encourages me in ways that astound. Like in my bike ride last weekend where I rode from Hartford, CT to Fishkill, NY. Or the weekend before when I rode to her brother's house in Worcester, where we were having a party for her father later in the day. Neither of these rides I pushed on her. In fact, she suggested them to me. "You should ride to my brother's place on Sunday," she'd say. "We're having a party for my dad's birthday." Or, "You should start looking at maps in Connectcut. Because if you want, I can drop you near Hartford and you can ride to the party in Fishkill." I can't explain how much easier it is to do these types of rides when someone else is suggesting it and behind it 100%. Rather than me having to sell the idea... 'and oh, by the way, I'll be all sweaty and stinky when I arrive'. Instead, the hotel room is all set up, my bag is there, and there's a call waiting for me telling me to take my time, mill around by the pool, and oh, I'll call later.

o My brain is filled with random thoughts. But since I must end this somewhere, one more...

o Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would do an Ironman. And now I am getting ready for my second. During so much of the training, the racing, and everything in between, I've been so in the moment and alive and well with the energy it gives. But when I think about doing a second Ironman, or even back to my first, it's suddenly like I'm outside myself looking down, watching as if it's somebody else, not me. I pinch myself all the time, smile, and count my blessings.