Happy new year! The Goal Post. 2017 Edition.

I’ve written before about my goals. So when I sat down tonight to articulate in black and white the goals for 2017 that had been forming in my mind as 2016 came to a close, I took a moment to revisit my previous goal declarations. Some of them are still out there waiting for me… like swimming 2000m “unassisted” in the pool in 50 minutes. Some are goals I’ve achieved and set year-in and year-out …like that marathon-a-year thing. And some I look back on fondly as I remember how hard-fought they were… like that sub-2 hour half. Oh yes, I finally crushed that goal. It was in the 18-month blog silence, after missing three times by seconds… yes, SECONDS…  I knocked that monkey off my back with a 1:57:39 at the Vancouver Rock’n’Roll Half in October 2015. I should have posted about it… about the emotional turmoil race morning where I ducked between two buildings on the way to the start, to cry, sobbing to the hub “I keep telling myself that my worth as a person isn’t dependent on whether I can run this under 2 hours but… but… but I just don’t believe it!” Oh yeah… I was in fine form. Anyhoo…

The 2017 List

1.      Post on the blog at least once a week, every week. An intention declared in my last post, when I turned the lights back on here. I’m going to stop writing them in my head. I’m not promising that they’ll be interesting, funny, or insightful… but there will be something!

2.      #17in17.  17 new experiences in 2017. I’ve set a similar goal before, focused on new experiences in the year, but never this many. Last year, a good friend was pursuing a goal of 50 new experiences before her 50^th birthday. I joined her for many of these… some terrifying & crazy… like trapeze school. Yes, I’m serious.

3.      Ride >= 8000 km

No, not in one go! Normally I set a run mileage goal but after an injury plagued last year, I’m inclined to set myself up for success by focusing on bike mileage instead… something maybe a little less likely to land me on the injured list right out of the gate. Last year I rode 6144 km, which was a big jump over 2015 (4530 km). Well, this girl’s got a new bike and she’s not afraid to get out on the road with it! Just kidding… that was tough talk. It’s snowy and cold outside. But between the road and my Kickr, 8000 km is the goal.

4.      Read 25 books. According to Goodreads, I read 11 books in 2014, 17 in 2015 and 22 books last year (short of my 30-book goal). You can follow what I’m reading on Goodreads… currently Siri Lindley’s book “Surfacing”. If you’ve got any must-read recommendations, I’d love to hear them. My favourite read of 2016: The Choices we Make (Karma Brown).

5.      Continue my streak of running a marathon at each age of my post-40 life. If this is going to be a 2017 goal, then I’ll need to run that baby between June and December of 2017. I’ve got my eyes on the Honolulu Marathon in December. (On an unrelated note, I’m also hoping for a visit from the money fairy.)

6.      100 hours of yoga. 55 hours of yoga in 2015. 82 in 2016. I think 100 hours is totally doable, especially without the time burden of Ironman training this year. Shout out to Believe, my epically fantastic yoga studio. A beautiful space and wonderful teachers with enough yoga variety to host you on your mat, no matter what you’re needing.

7.      Master crow pose. I’ve been wanting this for a while. Not enough to actually do the work and be intentional. But that’s probably just because it was waiting to help round out my 2017 list at 10 goals, right? #Believe.

8.      Crack 25 minutes in a 5K. I wanted to avoid focusing on outcome goals (and yes I know mastering crow pose is an outcome goal) because man, they can really eat at me. I don’t want to find myself crying before every start line because I think I’m going to fail and make my own “people who suck” list, but… I also want to push myself. To feel hungry for something. And this something means I have to get back to the run shape I was in before the 5-calf-injury-year (yeah I didn’t write about that either) and find 12 seconds over 5K. I’m up for it. And I’ve got 6 5K races already signed up and waiting. Oh, and just in case you’re on the edge of your seat, this is more likely to happen at the 6^th than the 1^st race. You might want to get a snack.

9.      Really, actually train, with focus and see where that takes me. I’m not sure I’m articulating this very well. I’m really good at following my training plan and checking the boxes next to the workouts. Yup, did it all. I have not been so awesome at listening to my body. If it tells me it doesn’t want to do something, I will usually tell it to stop trying to be a slacker, and I do the workout anyway. Even if it means running on a calf that was torn that morning. Hashtag stupid. And I have shied away from sessions where I feel “less than”… like coached swim workouts, where I felt self-conscious for being the slowest person in the pool, electing to swim on my own, without the watchful eye and needed instruction of a swim-coach on deck. This year, I will listen to my body and try to train smart (I’m experimenting with an app called HRV Training which I’ll post about another time), to avail myself of opportunities that can make me a better athlete (no matter how scary), and to make the hard workouts HARD and the easy workouts easy. And then there’s the whole sport fueling thing. I’m going to pay attention to that too.

10.   Give meditation a go: at least once/week for 20 minutes. I’ve tried meditation a time or two and honestly have joked that for me, it’s facilitated napping. But there’s so much out there espousing the benefits of meditation that I’m going to be approach it this year with an open mind and a willing heart. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Another 17 hours of sleep this year? Not a terrible thing.

Well there they are. I’ll check in throughout the year to update you on my progress. And with this post, I’ve got #1 well in hand. 51 to go. I hope you’ll still be here!

Are you talking to ME?

I think the Universe has been trying to tell me something. For a while now. It started as a bit of a whisper. Some time in late summer I discovered podcasts. I know. I’m a bit of a late adopter. Whatever. I’m not sure how I got turned on to the Running on Om podcasts but somehow I found my way there, working my way backwards through episodes. Early in that discovery, I listened to one of the regular recurring episodes: Ask Lauren Fleshman. And I’m not gonna lie, it was the birth of a girl crush. I then became selective in my walk backwards through ROO podcasts, listening in reverse order to all of the Ask Lauren Fleshman episodes. And I thought I heard the Universe whisper: you should start writing again Karin.

Did I? No. Of course not.

I had a bunch of conversations with myself about why I’d stopped. Why I hadn’t resumed. And it really didn’t have anything to do with not having things to say. I’ve written many, many blog posts (in my head). No, I wasn’t writing for deeper, more uncomfortable reasons. Reasons with louder voices than those whispers from the Universe.

Here’s the ugly truth of it:

1. I'm embarrassed.
2. I feel like a fraud.

Yup, it’s not writer’s block or a fear that people won’t like my writing - or even that no one will read it. It’s about those two feelings in the context of this blog about …about what? Weight loss? Fitness? Health? Transformation?  Let me attempt to explain.

What am I embarrassed about? Well having lost the significant amount of weight that I have, I feel – at least to some extent - like that has defined me. Who I am. The most important thing about me. I’m Karin, who lost 120 lbs. Karin, who used to weigh 255 lbs. Sometimes I’m OK with that and I contribute to using that as my label - as my defining characteristic. When you sign up for an Ironman race, there’s a box where you’re supposed to say something about yourself. “I’ve lost 120 lbs” is what I usually type. And you know what? The crowd freaking LOVES that at an Ironman finish line. And I love the finish line rah-rah. 

But sometimes I feel burdened under the weight of who I used to be. I was at a party a friend threw 

Worst Photo Ever Taken. Ever. Like, ever.

where I knew very few people. I knew with certainty when my host was having a conversation with someone across the room, nodding in my direction, that it was about my weight loss. Do you remember the Bridget Jones movie, where she introduces people with an interesting tidbit about them? "This is so & so, he’s a top lawyer in his field." And "This is so & so, they climbed Mount Everest!" "This is Karin, who lost 120 lbs." Like it is the single most interesting or notable thing about me. Maybe it is. But so often, when that’s the first thing people know, I feel like I’m that woman again. That that is how people are seeing me. As that 255 lb woman. That woman whose skin I still inhabit. And I’m just so embarrassed. Embarrassed to have ever let my weight get to that stage in the first place. I mean, who does that? And if YOU did that, I don’t judge you. But I do judge me. Does that make sense? It doesn’t have to. It just is.

So that brings me to the fraud thing. That’s multifaceted. One aspect: well that 255 lb woman? I’m still wearing her skin. And so you know what… no matter how hard I train, or how little I eat, or how clean my diet is, I am never, ever going to have a great body. I will never be comfortable in a bikini on a beach. I will never achieve that mental picture I had of what I was working towards. I will always have a muffin top. Gaining that much weight leaves a mark; a friend once asked me if I had loose skin and said she wondered what the point was in trying to lose the weight, since she’d just have loose skin. [Sigh] I understand. But do I regret the weight loss? No. I regret the weight gain. Big difference.

And so if I’m trying to think a little less shallow - and point out that there is more to life than having a great body, and that this new life – all this training and racing – that’s where it’s at. That there’s value and meaning and reward in all of that, that is so much better than the number on the scale or the size of your jeans… Well, yeah! Woohooo.... Get on board! 

But here’s the thing: Yes, I’m still training, Yes, I’m still racing. But... each Ironman is slower than the last. And I don’t understand that. And if I’m not waxing poetic here about racing and challenging myself, and getting better (because I’m not getting better), then I come back to all this eating well and exercising stuff as the means to an end: how big (or small) I am, and how I look and damn if I am not STILL battling my weight. Yup. Currently about 10 lbs heavier than my typical off-season weight. Maybe more. This never-ending f&*ing merry-go-round. How can I write this blog when I’m only 110 lbs lighter than I used to be? When I’m racing slower? When I don’t have that triathlete/fit chick/super awesome body of my dreams?

But the Universe kept whispering. Often through the podcast Tea with a Titan, where host Mary-Jo Dionne interviews people who are masters of transformation, inspiration, authenticity, and bravery. I listened to her interview her husband, ultraman athlete and friend Chad Bentley, who spoke of his own physical transformation. I didn’t hear embarrassment about where he had come from – and what’s more, I didn’t see any reason why he should be – but I was encouraged and inspired by the possibility that his transformation demonstrated.

I listened to the interview with Danielle Krysa, the Jealous Curator. Who talked about her passion for art and her need to be in that space (I’m paraphrasing) and who she began writing, and continued writing, even when no one was reading. And this time when the Universe whispered to write, I had an a-ha moment about the need to write being about the need to write. Not necessarily to be read. But if you’re reading, I’m glad you’re here!

I listened to the interview with Susanne Biro and her admission that she’s afraid in almost everything she does… I’m totally paraphrasing. I should have written down the quote because she made the comment while discussing a face to face conversation with Richard Branson, and being brave enough to ask a question, and I was stunned. I thought it was just me who felt that way! How she said it was perfect. How I said it is not. If I wasn’t on a self-imposed deadline to get this posted today, I’d go replay the podcast. Instead, I’ll suggest you just go listen to it yourself. It’s worth your time.

Then Oprah whispered to me. Kind of. I saw a commercial for Weight Watchers and could not believe she’s their new spokesperson. I mean really. She is arguably the most successful woman in the world. And she’s still battling her weight. This woman who could pay someone to slap the food out of her hand! I’m in good company I guess. Weight struggles: the great equalizer.

And then – since I still wasn’t writing – the Universe got a bit more direct. Out of the blue this past Thursday, in the middle of a workout, my trainer Scott asked me if I was still blogging. And he said I should be. That I had a voice. And things to share that could help people on their journey.

So I’m back. My 2017 goal: one post a week.

If you’re still here: thanks for reading.

And thank you to the ladies who let the Universe whisper through them: Julia Hanlon, Lauren Fleshman, Mary-Jo Dionne, Danielle Krysa, Susanne Biro, and Oprah!

And thank you Scott for the nudge of encouragement. And for your commitment to getting me #laf. Seriously, make it happen bro.

Ironman Canada - 6 weeks out

	IMC: 6 weeks to go (June 15-21)	Challenge: 6 weeks to go (July 7-13)
Total training hours	12:42	12:46
Swim	4:29 / 10,166m	3:44 / 8798m
Bike	5:37 / 146 km	5:38 / 149.2 km
Run	2:36 / 23.5 km	3:24 / 31.1 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	12:42	12:46

6 weeks pre-IMC and 6 weeks pre-Challenge are looking pretty comparable – both overall and on the bike, with variation in time spent swimming vs running. And I can explain.

Monday of this week was my birthday. And a few years ago, I started a tradition of doing something to challenge myself on that day – something that was both a physical challenge and just a little bit awful. In 2013, I went to the Grouse Grind in time for the gate opening, just 6 days after posting a new PB (51 minutes), getting under an hour for the first time and vowing never to do it again. I motored my way up, passed by only a few people, reaching the top in 48 minutes. Celebrated with a coffee & a view, then took the gondola down. In 2014, I swam 2 loops of Sasamat – which took me so close to 5 km that I extended and swam a little extra. A Happy Birthday biggest swim ever. Until this year. This year’s birthday challenge: Kits Pool x my age. For those not in the know, Kits Pool is 137m long. And I’m not 27. I was a Kits Pool virgin going in… 2 hours and 40 minutes, and 6165m later… New biggest swim ever. Challenge met. 

And this year, the bright side to getting older is that it brought me 10 minutes closer to Boston, without ever having to step foot on the track. Silver linings.

And the rest of the week?

Week 6:

Monday	The Birthday Challenge: 6165m swim
Tuesday	Rest… first one in 3 weeks. Ahhhh, gratefully respected.
Wednesday	1700m swim before work 41 km ride with a wee TT effort mid-ride
Thursday	13.9 km PRM group run
Friday	A second rest day… and fine with that!
Saturday	2.3 km open water swim 9.6 km trail run post swim
Sunday	105 km ride

So as I write this, we’re into “5 weeks out” training… 4 weeks and 5 days right now. 4 WEEKS AND 5 DAYS. I’m in a light week because of the Scotia Half this weekend and find myself often feeling anxious about how close the race is, how close the taper is. Given my light week for the race, I think I’m left with just 2 big rides… Yikes.

Ending my reminiscing of this past week... if I could mention the Sugoi Warehouse Sale. A tradition every fall/winter... standing in line for hours on opening day. After the first year I went, I started taking the afternoon off work just to get in early... but often returning again later in the weekend ...just in case I missed a deal. I've got drawers stuffed full of Sugoi Warehouse Sale purchases. Really, that first year I went to the sale, I was nearing the end of my giant weight loss and the Sugoi sale helped me purchase a whole fitness wardrobe in my new smaller size. It was a Godsend. (Losing big weight gets really expensive... everything needs to be replaced. EVERYTHING.) But Sugoi is relocating their warehouse Stateside (or so the rumour goes), and this surprise summer warehouse sale was the last ever. I didn't really need anything but I had to go... Added a few more Sugoi pieces, and a lot more pink, to my collection... Cheers Sugoi Warehouse Sales. It's been fun.

IMC Training Camp Recap

Last weekend, I had the good fortune to attend a training camp up in Whistler. Put on by Endurance Sports Canada and led by my Coach, it was 4 days of hard work, learning, and bears. It was a great confidence building immersion in the beautiful IMC course and all its challenges.

Camp kicked off with a short 1 pm swim at Alta Lake. On the drive up, as we passed through Squamish, I observed with some trepidation: it’s really windy. 45 minutes later, I was standing at Rainbow Park watching as the lake pitched and rolled, whitecaps on the surface. Great. It reminded me of my training camp weekend in Penticton last year, when I had that awful choppy swim in Okanagan Lake. My first swim in that lake. The second was just as bad and prompted a defeated text to my Coach: I can’t swim in this lake… and I spent the next month worrying about the swim cut-off. So this year, standing at Alta Lake, watching the wind stir it up, listening to Coach Shaun talk about the possibility of similar conditions on race day, I felt my stomach sink and wished I hadn’t already registered. I will always worry about the swim cut-off on race day. Add waves. Add worry. But I squeezed into my wetsuit and reluctantly waded in for a 30-40 minute swim along the buoy line.

Swimming in choppy water always feels like a cross between swimming and jumping on the bed. It could almost be fun. Except that it’s not. I swam out for 20 minutes, covering a mere 675m, taking a few waves to the face, one big drink of lake water, and thinking a few times as my legs were tossed up behind me that this must look pretty comical from the shore. After 20 minutes, I turned to swim back in… 15 minutes for the return trip. The wind that had made the swim out such an effort was a gift on the way back. Note to self, on an out & back, the wind gives back.

Yes, the wind giveth and the wind taketh away. After the swim, we checked in at Athlete’s Village, and then it was time for the next bit of work: a ride from the Athlete’s Village, up Callaghan, and back. I love that Callaghan climb and this was my fastest ascent… by 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Thank you tailwind. Coming down? If I haven’t mentioned it before, I’m a chicken-shit descender. It’s something I’ve been working on but still, I would rather climb than descend. So it was testimony to just how crazy that wind was that after I rounded the corner coming down from the Olympic Park, I barely touched my brakes until I was at the stop sign at the bottom. Crazy wind. And things were about to get crazier.

Friday’s camp agenda was a ride from Athlete’s Village out to Pemberton, the out & back on the flats, and then make your way back, followed by a 30 minute brick run, and later, an easy recovery swim. We left in staggered intervals, based largely on ride speed, and I headed out first. The day looked a little unsettled and we knew we might get some rain. It started to rain when I hit Pemberton, and rained off and on as I battled my way through the flats. Yes, battled. The rain was joined by wind, and lots of it. One of those punishing relentless winds that makes you want to get off and stand by your bike and cry for a little while. And just so you don’t settle in to that grind and push forward on autopilot, you’d occasionally get a big powerful gust that threatened to blow you sideways across the road. I was reminded of the wind the previous day and the gift it gives on an out & back, so I pushed on, all thoughts on the tailwind I was going to enjoy on the way back. And it’s always better to have a tailwind on the way BACK. Tree branches were cracking overhead, debris was all over the road, and the rain picked up… I pushed on. Made it to the end of the road, unclipped, and took a picture and then looked over my shoulder as I prepared to turn my bike around and what do I see? Coach Shaun screaming up in the SAG van. He threw it into park, got out and said “I need you to get in the van RIGHT NOW”. I sensed this wasn’t just about waiting out better weather as a group in a coffee shop so I didn’t argue. And as he crammed my bike into the back of the van, he filled me in: the wind has brought down power lines, which started a fire, we need to get on the other side of this before they close the road.

Well, so much for my tailwind. As we drove back to town, Shaun stopped other riders and told them to turn around, ride back, and stay together. He dropped me with Diane at the gas station (I really hoped she’d be at the top of all the climbs when we found her!) and after a quick pit stop, and a Red Bull for good measure, we started the climb back to Whistler. Climbing up that first hill out of Pemberton, it was raining hard, my teeth were chattering I was so cold, and I called ahead to Diane: I’m not swimming tonight. And I don’t think I’m running either! And remember when I said I was a chicken-shit descender? Well, you can imagine how I feel descending the corkscrew. Yeah, I don’t like climbing that steep bit of twisty, gritty nonsense and I like riding down it even less. Add rain? Hell.

The Whistler Road Tan. 

The ride back was full of the usual Highway 99 eventfulness: bears lumbering into the road ahead of you, big trucks passing so close that you’re sure that they have no idea you’re there or that they’re actually trying to take you out. Add to that rain off and on, sometimes so hard you couldn’t see, and foamy wet pools of water on the shoulder. Good times indeed. Seriously, I was glad for the experience. That night when we debriefed someone said that if it were like that on race day, they wouldn’t make the cut-off and I replied with absolute certainty: I would. So it was confidence building and informative: I was so soaking wet by the time I arrived back at Athlete’s Village that I needed a complete change of clothes before heading out on the run. Note to self: even though planning to race the whole event in tri kit, put a dry run outfit in T2 in case conditions are like this. Running a marathon in soaking wet kit isn’t worth the 10 minutes or so saved in transition. Of course the sun came out when we concluded our ride… all that tough talk about not running or swimming? I did both.



Saturday was the full course ride (minus T1 to 99), and starting from Athlete’s Village followed by a short brick run. We started early (6:45 for my group) so it was chilly at the start, but warmed up quickly and staying at a comfortable temperature for the duration of the ride, with none of the wind from the days before. The ride itself was pretty uneventful but I was tired and as I finished the flats, I stopped at SAG to stretch, take off some layers, restock my fuel, and get myself sorted. I had a dry contact lens that wasn’t sitting right so I plucked it out and threw it on the ground. Hey, I raced Challenge with one contact lens, I could finish this ride with one! The downside was that everything I saw ahead of me on first glance appeared to be a bear… everything that is, except the pride of lions. Pretty sure that was just something lion-coloured but you know, keep your eyes open! I arrived back at Athlete’s Village, feeling OK, ready to head out on that run, so that I could be finished and then EAT. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a key to my unit and waited, legs up the wall, for about 45 minutes before someone with a key returned… so a long T2 before heading out on the run. By then, I had lost interest in running, and had to reframe to get out there… No, I’m not heading out for a 30 minute run. I’m going to run for 15 minutes. Then I’ll turn and run back. But the run felt great, and I felt strong so I extended to 40 minutes, spending a bit of time on a great trail along the river near Athlete’s Village.

Every time I do this ride, I am struck by how beautiful it is, and how challenging. I really like this ride, but there is no getting around it: it’s tough. I can’t imagine how it must be on race day for athletes who have not had a chance to ride it before.

Sunday was a run, on-course… sort of. Somewhat directionally challenged or map impaired… call it what you will. Three of us ran together for 90 minutes, on sections of the course, with a few detours thrown in. Whatever. We ran and then we celebrated with a Starbucks finish.

And that was camp. Four days of hard work, learning, and confidence building. I’m not sure if I’ll be up again to ride before race day… maybe, maybe not. If not, I’ll see you race week Whistler!

Ironman Canada - 17 weeks out... oops... 7 weeks out!

So while I have not been busy posting, I have been busy training. I can’t claim that I was too busy training to wax poetic here – at least not until recently – and that’s part of the reason that I’ll go ahead and catch up my training week updates. As an aside, looking back to pull my Challenge training summaries, I can see that I did nearly the exact same thing preparing for Challenge last year: Training Weeks 17-34! The truth is, until the last couple of weeks, I have felt like I haven’t been doing all that much in terms of hard work to prepare for race day, and yet July 26^th loomed closer and closer. Volume has ramped up in the last two weeks, and with a training camp behind me that included a full course ride, preceded by a big ride with all my least favourite parts of the course… in a storm no less, I’m feeling a little more confident. But I’m curious how the last 10 weeks or so of training have compared to my preparation for Challenge so up next: summaries from the last 11 weeks, compared against their pre-Challenge counterparts. If you’re curious what goes in to preparing for an Ironman, or wonder how this compares to your own training… read on.

	IMC: 17 weeks to go (Mar 30-Apr 5)	Challenge: 17 weeks to go (Apr 21-27)
Total training hours	15:14	15:56
Swim	3:52 / 8.3 km	3:09 / 5.75 km
Bike	8:01 / 162.1 km	6:15 / trainer time + 121.1 km on road
Run	3:21 / 32 km	2:42 / 27 km
Strength training		0:35
Yoga		3:15
SBR Total	15:14	12:06

	IMC: 16 weeks to go (Apr 6-Apr 12)	Challenge: 16 weeks to go (Apr 28-May 4)
Total training hours	12:47	12:10
Swim	2:25 / 5.2 km	3:54 / 8.45 km
Bike	6:27 / 126.7 km	5:30 / trainer time (yuck!)
Run	3:55 / 35.9 km	2:46 / 27.1 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	12:47	12:10

	IMC: 15 weeks to go (Apr 13-19)	Challenge: 15 weeks to go (May 5-11)
Total training hours	13:54	13:29
Swim	3:40 / 7.6 km	2:02 / 4.3 km
Bike	2:42 / 65.5 km	6:22 / trainer time + 120.9 on road
Run	6:32 / 44.2 km	2:25 / 24.3 km
Strength training		0:30
Yoga	1:00	2:10
SBR Total	12:54	10:49

	IMC: 14 weeks to go (Apr 20-26)	Challenge: 14 weeks to go (May 12-18)
Total training hours	11:26	17:05 (includes Training Camp)
Swim	2:57 / 6.1 km	2:19 / 4.65 km
Bike	5:32 / 141.6 km	10:51 / 254.9 km
Run	1:38 / 15.2 km	3:55 / 39.1 km
Strength training	0:09
Yoga	1:10
SBR Total	10:07	17:05

	IMC: 13 weeks to go (Apr 27-May 3)	Challenge: 13 weeks to go (May 19-25)
Total training hours	14:08	13:58
Swim	3:26 / 7.3 km	2:48 / 6 km
Bike	7:24 / (PowerWatts + 154.8 km)	7:18 / 188.4 km
Run	3:18 / 32.2 km	3:52 / 38.5 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	14:08	13:58

	IMC: 12 weeks to go (May 4-10)	Challenge: 12 weeks to go (May 26-June 1)
Total training hours	16:00 (includes Training Camp)	13:06
Swim	1:36 / 3.4 km	3:22 / 7.5 km
Bike	11:48 / 283.8 km	6:14 / 146.4 km
Run	2:36 / 25.9 km	3:30 / 35.5 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	16:00	13:06

	IMC: 11 weeks to go (May 11-17)	Challenge: 11 weeks to go (June 2-8)
Total training hours	13:21	9:30
Swim	4:00 / 8.4 km	2:04 / 4.6 km
Bike	6:31 / 159.4 km	3:21 / 84.9 km
Run	2:50 / 27.9 km	4:05 / 42.1 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	13:21	9:30

	IMC: 10 weeks to go (May 18-24)	Challenge: 10 weeks to go (June 9-15)
Total training hours	16:05	15:40
Swim	3:39 / 7.8 km	4:22 / 10.1 km
Bike	8:34 / 203.7 km	8:36 / trainer time + 119 km
Run	3:52 / 38.8 km	2:42 / 24.3 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	16:05	15:40

	IMC: 9 weeks to go (May 25-31)	Challenge: 9 weeks to go (June 16-22)
Total training hours	12:55 (includes travel week)	18:00
Swim	3:18 / 7.5 km	4:09 / 9.7 km
Bike	4:22 / 117.1 km	9:30 / 223.8
Run	2:20 / 22.5 km	4:21 / 42 km
Strength training	0:55
Yoga	2:00
SBR Total	10:00	18:00

	IMC: 8 weeks to go (June 1-7)	Challenge: 8 weeks to go (June 23-29)
Total training hours	18:30	15:01
Swim	3:57 / 8.5 km	2:09 / 5.1 km
Bike	10:22 / 257.5 km	8:27 / 176.8 km
Run	4:11 / 40.3 km	4:25 / 41.2 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	18:30	15:01

	IMC: 7 weeks to go (June 8-14)	Challenge: 7 weeks to go (June 30-July 6)
Total training hours	22:20 (includes Training Camp)	18:22
Swim	2:33 / 5.4 km	4:04 / 9.6 km
Bike	15:50 / 390.2 km	10:09 / 246 km
Run	3:57 / 37.6 km	4:09 / 38.9 km
Strength training
Yoga
SBR Total	22:20	18:22

Well… what a useful exercise this has been for my mental preparation! With only a few exceptions, my training volumes have been the same or a little higher this time around. And the exceptions land on “out of the ordinary” weeks – a training camp last year, a travel week this year. What’s interesting is that I have felt less taxed in my preparations this time, and I wonder if that’s reflecting that I’m fitter this time around, or perhaps my recall is based on those heavy, heavy weeks when training peaks, and you’re so deep in it that the alarm goes off and you struggle to remember what day it is and the workout that you’re waking up to do… But that reminds me of an IMC motivational video. So enjoy.