Triathlon Training Day 50 – 302 FTP (Functional Threshold of Power)

Another night rolls beneath me as I lay in bed next to Nicole. My phone starts beeping at 4:40 a.m. I quickly grab it to prevent my beautiful wife from waking. Even though I only closed my eyes for 5+ hours I am ready and excited to see if I can duplicate an amazing cycling workout like last time.

The morning is frosty even in my bedroom as I change into my athletic clothes. I finish dressing and head down to the the suburban. The roads on my drive to Elevate Fitness are once more iced like a sugar cookie with fresh snow – beautiful (and fun to drive in while noone else is awake.)

I arrive at Elevate Fitness on time and to my surprise Sam, Matt, and Dan are the only people in the Wattage Cottage. Plan 7 is projecting on the screen in the front of this semi round room. I change my skewer on my back tire, adjust the sensor, and throw my shoes on. For some reason my CompuTrainer‘s tension is not cooperating and so I ask Sam to help out. He gets me set and I spin up to 25+ rpms and then let it coast back down to calibrate properly. A couple adjustments later and I am set.

The workout begins and the big black box that covers most of the screen reads only one word – “Endurance”. I think to myself what is today’s workout going to be? Then I voice it out loud to Dan who is riding next to me. He recants Mondays adventure, “That is what it said on Monday and I blew a tire. It was so intense.” Looking at the screen again he said that the peaks looked much lower today than they did the previous workout.

For time sake, Sam skips the warm-up and we dive right into the beginning set. The beginning is easy. Probably to easy. My FTP is still set at 178 for my baseline. The workout is so easy I kind of go on autopilot. I sit upright and for about half the workout I tweet and look up articles about Triathlon Training on the web and Facebook from my phone.

I snap out of my Social Media induced trance and realize that I am way above the green and into the red zone. This awakens something inside me again. I think, “What would it be like to bike as hard as Sam? Sam the instructor. Sam the  professional from SBR Cycles. Sam the racer. What would that be like?” My hand reaches out and pushes the grey “+” button on the control panel to increase my FTP. Sam is at 278. I keep holding down the button until I reach and then surpass Sam. I hit the 282 mark and maintain it for 7 of the 10 minutes and then get a wild hair to bump it up over 300. I maintain 301 for the remaining three minutes of the blue mountain shown on the screen. “So it feels good to bike like Sam Abott.” I bump it down to 261 for the 4 minute recovery. The black warning box appears on the screen again and says “1 minute until next segment.” This is my cue to bump up my FTP again. I lean over my handlebars to the right and hit the “+” button once more. I have a thought that I stamp into the inside of my skull. “I am not just training to compete. I’m not just training to become a triathlete. I’m training to win. I’m training to become a champion.”

The FTP numbers zip past 282 and continue on until I see “FTP 302” to the side of my name. I finish adjusting my FTP just as the black warning box appears with the 10 second countdown in red numbers. Now it is “Go Time”. I push hard and realize that I must maintain around 90 RPMs to keep the intensity of 302 FTP. My legs spin and for the first 4 minutes I am holding strong. With 6 minutes to go I realize it is taking more effort to maintain the same level of power. I reach inside myself and pull out a little more fuel to push the pedals harder. The power required to maintain continues to gradually increase. My exertion level increases both my sweating and breathing. I am dripping now. At the beginning of class I was chilly from the frosty winter temperatures but now I’m wishing the giant fan directed to the corner of the room was pointed right at me.

5:00 minutes left. My legs are starting to feel the effort. I can’t let it deter me. I will keep pushing. I try different hand placements on the handlebars to see if I can get more power from different positions. I look back up and see that the clock is at 4:10. I push harder to make sure I am in the green. I look up again and the clock has only counted down another few seconds. Another push, another glance and it still hasn’t hit 4:00. I feel like I am in a bad episode of Dr. Who. What is wrong with time? Why isn’t it progressing? Another glance and the clock hits 4:01. This time I watch it like a hawk until it rolls past 4:00 to the 3:59. Good, I’m not stuck in a time loop.

My legs are starting to really burn now. For the last 6 minutes my quads were just preheating in the oven now they are on “Broil”. I reach over to bump down the FTP and from deep within the chambers of my brain or maybe soul I hear words that scream louder than my thighs are screaming. It says, “I am not training just to compete I am training to win.” My hand quickly retracts from the control box and lands lightly on the handlebars while my legs violently piston up and down. The effort is intense now and I stand up on my pedals to benefit from my weight pushing down as well as my muscles. 2:00 minutes turns into one minute and I am back on my seat. I have lost some momentum in RPMs by standing up. I received the extra “umph” but my RPMs decreased.

Sitting again I spin my pedals faster to get back up to around 90 RPMs but this exhausts me even more. I let go of the handlebars and use my hands to push my legs down over and over again. I’m breathing like a winded Hyena. Sweat is dripping from my head and arms like I just stepped in from a heavy rainstorm. The seconds tick by without any consideration for the bikers in the room. Each second dragging on. Then the black box appears once more with the glorious number 10 displayed on it. 10 more seconds to push as hard as possible. The green bar advances to red as I find 10 more seconds of adrenaline and push even harder than before. 3, 2, 1 and I almost fall off my bike with exhaustion and exhilaration.

The 90 minute workout is over and something inside of me has awakened.

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P.S. After all this, I jumped on the treadmill and ran at an average pace of 7:00/mile for one mile.