Easter seals.

I was in the ocean this morning, choosing to ignore the surf advisory warning and the strong wind cautions. Couldn’t tell you why. I like living; a lot. Though I enjoy being the Iron Pirate I truly have no interest in dying a salty, spluttering death clutching for air as some swell slaps me down or lurking creature drags me under. I accept we have to earn our monikers, but I prefer plunder and sea chanteys to the Iron Maiden or keelhauling. I suspect most pirates do. (At least, the old ones. Modern pirates also have to watch out for Navy S.E.A.L. snipers.)

Let’s get wet.

Rather than post the insanely boring personal vomit that I’ve been spewing up for days, I remembered that blogs are supposed to be a combination of impulsive, reactive missives along with the more rounded, well-thought essays. Working on the long form has meant I haven’t posted in days, which means I haven’t been clearing out my head. My head gets overloaded with random thoughts and if I don’t dump them to page they pile up like the bills and paperwork on my desk. It eventually reaches a point where I don’t even know what’s important anymore, it’s just one large pile of Urgent Stuff. As I said to Coach Brian the other day, sometimes having complete freedom means you get nothing done. I have two hours of being trapped in the house before my swim workout, a perfect time to do some internal housekeeping.

Sea world.

On my third and final lap of this morning’s ocean swim, I stopped swimming a few dozen meters from shore, turned on my back, put my toes in the air, and allowed the perfect waters of the Pacific to create a serene moment of tranquility. This was the final Ocean Speed Circuit of the season, my last group ocean swim until next year. As I watched swimmers’ elbows peaking and descending a pod of a half dozen dolphins leaped in arcs along the current. The morning sun burned through the marine layer, dappling the Santa Monica mountains with light. A fellow triathlete floated up next to me and said in a friendly manner that it didn’t look like I was having a workout. I laughed and said, “my season is over! I’m just enjoying myself.” She laughed, began to swim away, then thought better of it and decided to float around with me. “It sure beats working!” I said, to which she agreed, and we both floated there in the morning surf, watching dolphins and athletes play.

Lookin’ dorky in the parking lot.

Did my two laps in the ocean this morning and got slapped around by the swell and surf again. I did it on purpose to toughen up my cheeks for Sunday’s race. The Oly last Sunday was rough in the sea, a marked shift in the ocean conditions in a short amount of time. I want to be prepared for this Sunday where it’s likely we’ll see 7′ waves slapping us down pimp-style. To heal up my still sore ankles I did lopsided circles after the swim, rolling inversion and eversion to flex out the joints. I looked idiotic but it felt great. Speaking of dorky, I just found out that celebutants go first at the Malibu Sprint so it will be a good goal to chase down and destroy J-Lo and Jon Cryer on the course. There’s got to be some satisfaction in mowing down pop stars and 80’s icons. I hope beating them means I get to keep their bikes.

Coach Brian’s Pool Workout (YMMV)

I went to bed thinking about doing a one hour ride the next morning in Zone 3. This morning I woke up with Coach Brian’s admonition in my ears, “train your weakness”. As I rolled out of bed I changed my mind and decided that I was going back to the pool and I would adapt Brian’s evil Ironman pool swim to my own distances and ability and work my weak spot: the swim.

Fatigued? Who knows?

Fatigue is deceptive. I was up before the alarm today, felt kind of nauseated on my way to the ocean. Got in the water and did three clumsy laps in the ocean, zig zagging in the higher surf and cloudy sky. Still, three laps is three laps and I came out of the water feeling better than I went in. Reaching forward, not diagonal, kicking at the surface of the water, and coming in to the lifeguard station while other people went wildly north off course. All in all a slightly above average swim, slower than usual. I figured I was still tired from the race. But then came the run.

Santa Monica’s home for wayward swimmers.

A strange morning swim today as Konrad, leader of the speed circuit, was absent for the first time. The club got under way at 6:30am, right on time, but once in the water it became a very different story. People spread all over the route, and with large swells putting the buoy out of sight for minutes at a time, I found myself zigzagging all over the map. Couldn’t follow a cap in front of me – they were way off. Sighting was fun, until I discovered I was sighting the wrong damn lifeguard tower. Instead of getting frustrated I indulged my current obsession with triathlon bikes and fantasized about what kind of bike I want.

Ocean swimming: what am I doing awake at 5am?!

I dragged my ass out of bed this morning at 5am with the alarm clock, interrupting a bizarre dream where I was killing terrorists and drowning babies in some strange video game. There’s truly nothing more boring that listening to someone describe their dreams – its like watching an orangutan play with a Rubik’s cube. Overly complicated resulting in a pattern only the monkey can understand. I suppose the same could be said for how I approach swimming, a complex set of movements that in the right body results in a Michael Phelps, and in mine, results in the death throes of an epileptic manatee.

Running: new kicks!

Today was also an ocean swim, but the real kicker was that not only was D. waiting for me to run after the swim, but it was with his coach from Triathletix, Ian Murray. Ian is a world-class coach, one of the best. When I came out of the water with my hip smarting from yesterday’s crash and D. yelled at me to hustle and get changed, I thought it was just because I was so slow out of the water. Turns out he had much more in store for me.

Turning tricks: DIY super sprint!

When I go tup this morning I couldn’t decide if I was going to do a long swim and run, a swim and bike, or something else entirely. I decided to strip everything down to its bare minimum – no iPod, no bibs or costume changes – just a multipurpose swim/bike short, tri suit top, glasses, ID, watch, socks, and road shoes. It turns out that I wound up doing my own super sprint triathlon this morning, grinning like a doofus the whole time.