MF'n Triathlon Coaching

Working on my left VMO with a closed-chain, functional exercise for knee extension, while paying close attention to my right foot and the work of my foot intrinsics to ground my first metatarsal head and keep my arch off the floor.  In high school, I remember devoting twenty to thirty minutes of the beginning of every morning's piano practice to playing scales before delving into larger pieces. This was before triathlon ever entered my world, when my outlet for competition involved preparing three to four pieces each year to perform in front of an adjudicator in MusicFest Northwest, held at Gonzaga University every May. So tedious the attention to fine motor control, phrasing, and timing did practicing my scales on the piano contribute to better performance of larger and robust masterpieces. If you read my blog post from April 3rd about getting back to focusing on the basics , when I pulled out my scale to better come to terms with what actual serving sizes look like and h

We have all experienced our own forms of adversity at one point (or many times) in our lives, but have you yet succumb to the harsh reality of portion control? More specifically, do you really know how much, and in what proportions, of food you serve yourself each day? My gut-clenching episode occurred in the kitchen back in January while standing over the small scale I have had stored in my junk drawer. I never should have asked myself just how many grams of peanut butter constitutes a single serving (apparently 32g is pretty standard for nut butters). I tared a small plate before plopping a scoop of what I perceived to be my desired serving size, only to watch the digital numbers escalate well past one serving. Actually, well past two. After letting out one (or two?) mild expletives, I decided I had two options. I cheat myself with whimsical delusions and eat what and how much I want, continuing to wonder if I am meeting my nutritional needs each day. I challenge myself to pay clo