Nothing great gets done alone

170 days to race day

“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” – Helen Keller

Well, last weekend the Super Bowl came and went in quite a disappointing fashion.  I tend to be a bit of a pessimist when it comes to sports so I quit watching halfway through the first quarter.  Apparently watching the first play from the line of scrimmage told the story of the whole game.  It was reminiscent of the Buffalo Bills string of 4 anemic Super Bowl appearances in the early 90’s but at least we always have some back stories to keep us interested when the event becomes a formality.  This year it seems that the whole world was talking about Richard Sherman’s post NFC championship game interview.

What immediately stood out in my mind was the complete and utter lack of class and decorum he displayed.  He took the focus off of a fantastic and closely played game and made it into a venue to air his personal vendetta.  He has a master’s degree from Stanford University so you can’t say he is not smart enough to understand what happened.  Maybe we can chalk it up to a bit of immaturity (he is only 25 years old) and an adrenaline bump from playing on such a big stage.

Perhaps that made his delivery excusable but something else still irritated me about the interview and I just couldn’t put my finger on it.  I listened to it a couple of more times and then heard “it”.  In a 10 second sound clip Richard Sherman used the words “I” and “me” at least 4 times.  Did he make a fantastic defensive play to allow the Seahawks to win the game.  Sure.  Was it an acrobatic feat that only an elite athlete could have pulled off?  Yes.  Could he be one of the best cornerbacks in the NFL on the best team?  Probably.  But he forgot something really important.

There is an entire army of people that got Richard Sherman to the place where he had a chance to make that play.  Forty nine other team mates strapped on the pads for countless practices and 17 games to get the team to the NFC championship.  There are numerous of coaches, trainers, and coordinators that drew up game plans and strategies to get him in the position that night.  There were parents who spent thankless hours driving him to practices as child.  There are the millions of Seattle fans who help pay his salary.  The list could go on and on but you get the idea.

The problem with Richard Sherman’s interview was not that he let his emotions get the best of him and made some regrettable comments, the problem is that he forgot all the people that made him who he is today.  That notion should permeate to all areas of our lives, even seemingly individual endeavors like endurance sports.

You heard me correct, it takes a team of people to get a single person across the finish line of any given race.  For me it started with my dad who provided me with the inspiration to begin competing in running events.  For years he quietly went about building an impressive resume of running feats – qualifying for and competing in Boston Marathon, Leadville 100 finisher, Western States 100 finisher, and a plethora of other ultramarathon finishes.  He never pushed me to follow in his footsteps and when I was younger and petulant I didn’t want to.  But with age comes wisdom (or just better observation skills) and I began to see how these things shaped him to be a better person.  When the chips were down I found that doing what my dad did for years helped me find peace.

Of course I couldn’t do any of this without such a loving and supportive wife.  Every weekend when she just wants to sleep in and spend some quiet time together she lets me walk out the door at 5:00 AM to train without complaint.  She uses up her hard earned vacation time to follow me all around the country just to witness me torture myself for hours on end and then return home to hobble around the house like a decrepit 90 year old for the next several days.  She feeds the household on a $25 weekly budget so that I can afford to get a new $2,500 set of wheels for the bike, $1,000 watt meter, $500 wetsuit, $250 running shoes, and $6,000 for an annual clothing budget.  Then she still encourages me to chase my crazy dreams and cheers me along the whole way.

There are several people who train right alongside me and are indispensable to my success.  Kurt and Todd have spent way too many hours in the pool, on the bike or running right alongside me than straight guys should do (and while mostly wearing spandex).  When I just don’t feel like getting out there I know I have to answer to them.

God willing, on July 27 I will finish 140.6 miles in under 17 hours.  If I do and someone sticks a microphone in my face I hope I have the humility to give thanks to all the people that carried me to the pinnacle – all the people mentioned above, everyone at the office for letting me sneak away to train every day (and putting up with my workout stank afterwards), the thousands of race volunteers, those who have cut a path before me (Jake, Tim, Chris), and the countless others.  It takes a village to raise an idiot and I can’t thank you enough.

Don't waste the opportunity

185 days to race day

"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, 'I used everything you gave me.' " - Erma Bombeck

 

The other day I was in the locker room after playing some hockey and a friend asked me how my training was going.  I told him it was off to a pretty good start for my bike and swim but I am still dealing with a foot injury and haven’t been able to run.  The guy sitting next to me then said “That’s why I don’t run or anything like that.  Dealing with the injuries and everything just makes it not worth the time.”

As I looked at him and then looked away I shook my head.  There were so many things about his attitude that I take exception to, but 3 things really stood out in my mind:

1.       He was about 40 pounds overweight and was wheezing as he untied his skates.  Yep, nothing that running could help you with there buddy.

2.       He was a goalie.  Goalies are , ummmm, a different breed of people.  They are kind of like the kid in school who seems “special” so you let him into your circle of friends.  Then you come to find out he’s not “special,” he’s just weird.  At this point it’s too late and you end up in the following conversation:  “Hey Chris, you know Willie isn’t really mentally off the way we thought.”  “Yeah, I know but we can’t get rid of him now.  What should we do?”  “I dunno, let’s just slap some pads on him and shoot pucks at his head.”  Next thing you know your dream of making the state high school tournament is riding on the shoulders of some accidental athlete.

3.       The biggest issue I have with his statement is the lack of ownership for his life.  I don’t want to be a victim for the rest of my life because of some minor setback or obstacle that can be overcome.

It is amazing to hear the laundry list of excuses I hear when people find out that I participate in endurance events.  And it’s not like I ask them if they run or bike but for some reason people are quick to volunteer their reasons for not exercising.  I have bad knees/hips/back, I don’t have the time, I can’t afford it, it’s too hot, it’s too cold, it’s too windy, it’s raining, it might snow, there’s too much traffic, there is a civil war in Somalia, etc.

I think what it boils down to is they just don’t do it and they feel guilty so the excuses are just rationalizations for laziness.  I can assure you that every one of the 2500 participants who have signed up for Ironman Lake Placid, myself included, have ran or biked with bodily pain, in the middle of a 55 hour work week between kids soccer practices, in sub-zero temps, in triple digit temps, during a rain shower or thunderstorm and fought rush hour traffic.  Hey, if there really is a civil war in Somalia than I have eked out a workout or two in the middle of that too.

There will never be the perfect time to do anything.  The stars will never align and offer hours of leisure time over the next few weeks with sunny 60 degree temps and a perfectly well healed body.  If something is truly important we will find the time to do it regardless of obstacles.  If it isn’t important then you won’t get it done and that is ok, you just need to be prepared to pay the consequences.  If we’re talking about exercise then maybe that means health issues.  If we’re talking about education then maybe it means you don’t get that big pay raise.  You get the idea.  It brings to mind something my childhood hero, Wayne Gretzky, once said, “Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy.”

I do not take on endeavors such as triathlons and ultramarathons because I have been blessed with gifts above and beyond most of the other people in this world.  I participate because I have been given the same capabilities but I want to make the most with what I have been given.  I have met way too many Al Bundy’s in this world – those who speak so highly of their past glory days and how great they could be today if circumstances were only different.

I never will fulfill my childhood dream on playing professional hockey.  No amount of hard work could make up for my lack of talent in that area but I can still make sure the days ahead of me will continue to be more successful than those behind me.  Hopefully when my time is up on this earth I will be able to look back and say that I gave life everything I had to give.

No New Year's Resolutions

206 days to race day

“What you get by achieving your goals is not as important as what you become by achieving your goals.” – Henry David Thoreau

It seems like we say it every 365 days, “I can’t believe it’s another New Year’s already.”  For most people this is accompanied by a plethora of resolutions.  I am not one to make resolutions mainly because I know I will not keep them.  No matter how much will power I try to exert I will not eat healthier in 2014, will not be better about keeping in touch with friends and family, improve my sleep habits, meditate, or do any of those other things I’ve put off for 10 plus years.  My only resolution each year is to not make a resolution and set myself up for disappointment when February rolls around and I’m still eating 4 Rice Krispie Treats for breakfast (which by the way was actually my breakfast this morning).

Part of my problem with resolutions is they tend to be vague and contrary to all the things I have been taught about making goals – they should be well defined, measurable, attainable, relevant and time specific.  So instead I look ahead to each year and try to set specific goals for the upcoming 12 months.  Of course the best way figure out new goals is to start where you are at and work forward.  In order to see where I am at I have to look at the previous year’s goals and what I accomplished. 

Like every other year, 2013 had some incredible highlights but I also missed the mark on the majority of things I set out to do.  I wrote out 7 different endurance goals I wanted to accomplish of which I only achieved 1 (run a sub 4:30 Cross Timbers Trail Marathon, completed in 4:17).  One out of seven, ouch!  Sure, I came within a few seconds of the 5:30 mile, I could rationalize some of them away and maybe even find a legitimate excuse (family and injury are always a good standby) for a couple of others but the fact of the matter is that I did not complete everything I set out to do in 2013.  I’m ok with that.

Most of my goals are pretty aggressive and possibly even too aggressive.  I often think back to training for my first Voyageur 50 in 2009.  My training was nowhere near what it should have been.  My longest training run was less than 30 miles and that was almost 2 months before the race date.  My dad, having been a veteran ultrarunner, knew the course and what it takes to complete such an event tried to gently persuade me to run half the distance at the marathon 2 weeks earlier.  Although he didn’t say it I could tell that he did not think I would be able to finish the full 50 miles.  The smart thing to do would have been to take his advice and run the marathon but I am just not a rational man.  I had set a goal to finish the full 50 and I really didn’t appreciate the fact he didn’t think I could do it just because logic and common sense should have been indisputable facts.  Tell me I can’t do something and I will kill myself to prove you wrong…..which is pretty close to what happened.

The course was an out and back, run 25 miles through the woods and then turn around and do it all over again.  There is an infamous section dubbed “The Powerlines” which strikes the kind of fear in a trail runner that can only be compared to what it must be like to face an alien abduction.  I suspect the mental anguish and physical pain are about equal.  The only difference is where you feel the physical when it is all said and done. 

The Powerlines are a series of about a dozen hills that must be climbed over a 3 mile section.  Unless you see these so called hills in person and attempt to summit them it is really hard to comprehend the grandiose undertaking that was ahead of me.  Oh sure, my dad tried to explain it to me but what the hell does he know?  It’s not like he’s completed the race 10 times or anything!  I came through the aid station and around the corner to see the forest open up to observe Minnesota’s equivalent of Mt. Everest.  Well, maybe it’s not quite 29,000 feet tall but I would guess that first hill is about 125 feet high.  Now that doesn’t sound like much but this is at an incline like none I had ever seen.  Since the vegetation is cleared from the area as a right of way for the powerlines there is nothing to grab onto to pull yourself up.  Just inch your way up on your hands and knees slipping in the dirt and mud.  I encountered the powerlines at mile 13 of the race.  It was brutal, but it was also still fun at this stage of the race.  But then the realization set in that I had to navigate these hills again on the way back…..starting around mile 34.  Oh shit!

Despite all my prayers and pleading with God those hills did not flatten out by the time I made it back.  I suffered excruciatingly through the first few climbs and my energy and mental faculties were fading fast.  There wasn’t any pain in my legs, just pure exhaustion.  I came to one of the biggest hills in the section and had to stop halfway up.  I was moving at half a snail’s pace but my heart rate was still north of 170 beats per minute.  As I knelt wheezing and panting on that hill with the sun beating down on me all I could think about is that I had made it a goal to finish that damn race so I started up again.  I was light headed, things were foggy and I really couldn’t feel my legs.  I approached the top of the hill and looked to my right to see a rattlesnake sitting quietly and watching me with pity in his eyes.  I looked ahead and saw another on the trail just a few feet away and then spotted several more to my left.  There was one major problem with the predicament I had found myself in – there are no rattlesnakes in northern Minnesota.  I was hallucinating.  I tried to shake the cobwebs from my head but I kept seeing the snakes.  I crested the hill in great fear of the snakes even though I knew they weren’t there.  I plodded down the last hill toward the aid station where my mom and dad were waiting to greet me.

I looked like someone who had been through several days of combat.  Caked in mud, pained grimace across my face, and vacant eyes that were on the verge of tears.  The severity of my physical state was second to my mental state.  I was done, I wanted to quit.  I just could not take any more abuse.  My dad talked me into taking a seat for just a few minutes.  I was 15 minutes ahead of the cutoff and he told me to just sit for a few minutes and then make a decision.  There is a picture of me sitting in that chair and I can barely recognize myself.  I look like someone who had given up on life.

Now I would love to say that as I sat there the pity and pain slipped away as my dad recited a “win one for the Gipper” speech that roused me into a resolve to get up and finish that race with a smile on my face.  I would like to say that is what happened, but that’s not exactly how it went down.  While I wallowed in the pain my doting parents were trying everything to motivate me.  In doing so my dad asked for my water bottle so he could refill it.  Something in me just snapped.  I was aggravated and everything just plain pissed me off.  There was no rationality or logic behind it.  I was angry like I hadn’t felt before so I jumped to my feet and yelled “Fine, fill the water bottle so I can just get away from here.”

There is a picture of me running into the very next aid station about 3 miles down the trail.  I am grinning from ear to ear and there is no resemblance of the bitter man I was just 30 minutes prior.  Something changed inside me and I would never be the same again.  I ended up finishing the full 50 miles in a little under 13 hours.  I had achieved my goal and that was important but it pales in comparison to what happened to me in the journey along the way.  I learned volumes about human physical limitations, spirit, mental resolve, perseverance, etc.  If I had dropped out at mile 37 I would have still learned these valuable lessons and I would have still been a different man from the one who started the race.  The end goal of finishing 50 miles was really just a vessel to move me to change some things internally.

The same premise holds true for all of the goals I did not accomplish in 2013.  For each area I fell short I look and see if I gave 100% effort.  If so, what things did I learn along the way.  Even though I may have missed 85% of the goals I set I did not fail.

As I start my “official” Ironman training next week I need to keep this lesson in  mind.  It seems daunting and larger than what I can accomplish but the 140.6 miles is not what is important.  What is important is that I continue forward towards the race while trying to become a better man.  Whether or not I finish the race will hopefully just be a footnote on a journey of discovery.

Get back to basics

215 days to race day

“Every man dies, not every man really lives.” – William Wallace in Braveheart

Well, it’s that time of season again, the season of giving.  And for the family of endurance athletes it can be a very taxing time indeed.  Ask any triathlete what new gear they need and they will begin to rattle off a list of gadgets and gizmos that sound as if Stephen Hawking himself would be baffled in trying to figure out how to apply them.  Watt meters, aero helmets, skin suits, ceramic bearing carbon disc wheels (yes, that is for real) and the list goes on ad infinitum.  You would think it should be easy to load up on gifts by simply going to the local shop and dropping a little bit of cash.  Not so.

The problem is that there is way too much science and tech speak built into all of this.  My wife asked what I wanted for Christmas and I half-jokingly mentioned I could use some new pedals.  The problem is if she goes to Amazon and searches “bike pedals” it returns 11,545 results.  Good luck with that honey!

Now I know what I want.  It only took me a good 8 or 10 hours of extensive research and half a dozen stops at the bike shop to determine I “need” the Speedplay Zero Titanium.  That comes with a hefty price tag of $335 so I’ll settle for the Speedplay Light Action Stainless Steel for $185.  That’s $185 – for pedals.  Well, now that this is staring back it me on paper I suppose I could concede to something a little more reasonable. 

If you have sticker shock on that then let me educate you a little bit on wheels.  The best are made from space age carbon fiber, weigh close to nothing at all, and have been designed over years in a wind tunnel to reduce wind drag (some even claim to have a positive drag effect under certain conditions – I don’t believe it though).  If you’re a cheap bastard like myself you shop for these on e-Bay with a starting price tag of $800 for a front wheel.  Of course you could do better and spend $3,000 to $6,000 for a set which will make you much faster, or at least look like you’ll be faster.  The real kicker is that even the most advanced wheel technology will save me 2 to 3 minutes over a 56 mile ride.  Maybe I could gain bigger dividends with a little more time training?

This phenomenom is not restricted to triathlon though.  Any activity with a passionate fan base is victim to the over science.  When I played hockey as a kid you had 2 choices in sticks – right handed or left handed.  Now you have to decide on flex, blade lie, taper, and I don’t even know what else.  And then if you can’t find what you’re looking for just have something custom made.  If you don’t believe me then just take a look at whatever your hobby or passion is and you’ll be amazed at the ridiculous amount of products available.

The problem with all this great technology is that it may have made us quicker, stronger, more agile, but I believe it has taken away from the true aspect of why we participate in our passions.  We tend to focus more on shaving 25 grams from the bike or finding a new pitching wedge with a perfect head angle than enjoying the activity itself.  I forget how good it feels to have the sun on my face and a breeze blowing down my back on a long ride when I’m so concerned about gear.  You can’t have a cathartic experience over material possessions.  I do endurance events because they are a form of physical meditation that calms me mentally.  That can easily get fouled up with some analysis paralysis.  I’m much better off just getting out the door and pounding the pavement.

I have found one activity that is still rather supreme in its utility though – trail running.  It is the most even playing field you can find.  The fastest runners are the ones that put the time in on their feet.  There is  no technology or financial price one can pay to gain an advantage.  A $300 pair of shoes will gain you nothing over my $70 pair and there are no gadgets that will create a more aerodynamic running position.

One year as I lined up for the start of a Voyageur 50 I saw a runner with not 1, but 2 water bottles duct taped to his hands!  Yes, I said duct taped.  If that isn’t the very definition of form over function then I don’t know what is.  Any triathlete would have a heart attack if you approached their bike with any attachment that has not been lab tested and proven to provide a 1/10 nanosecond savings.  Seeing him at the start of the race made me chuckle not only because he looked silly but because I realized trail running is a pure sport of man against himself.  But then I thought how in the hell is he going to go to the bathroom?  I can get away without a bathroom break for a marathon but a 10 hour trail run necessitates evacuating the bladder at some point.  Suddenly I got this mental image of him struggling to untie his shorts with those stubby bottles taped to his hands while doing the pee-pee dance.  I suppose there can be a thing as too much utility, but I digress.

When I was brainstorming the content for this post it reminded me of the William Wallace quote above.  I don’t think that every person who participates in endurance events truly experiences it.  I know I am certainly guilty of that from time to time.  I need to get back to basics and experience the process, not hastily rush through my training just to get it done so I can research the next advancement in equipment.  More time doing, less time thinking about doing.

The same applies to all other areas in my life.  I have family that I share time with but I don’t always let them know how much they mean to me.  I have friends but I forget to set aside some quality time with them.  I may be alive but I need to concentrate on living to the fullest.  Merry Christmas everyone and here’s hoping you get to experience the holidays with the ones you love.

Loving the cold

223 days to race

“There is no such thing as bad weather, just soft people.”  - Bill Bowerman

I love when the weather turns cooler.  It probably stems from when I was a child.  Autumn turned the leaves crimson, yellow and orange which signaled the start of hunting season  and some good fishing.  It also meant hockey season was just around the corner.  When outside temps hit 20 below zero and ice fishing became a little too frigid I took solace in the balmy confines of the arenas.  The cold was never something that kept me from participating in my favorite activities.  I just went about having my fun and while I may have been cold it was not uncomfortable to be so.

Now that affinity for the cold translates to my training as well.  Read any article on optimum temperatures that produce the fastest marathon times and the overwhelming majority will say between 30 and 55 degrees farenheit.  Almost any serious distance runner can tell you how much they love the cool weather, especially here in Texas where we have to deal with 4 months or more of temperatures over 100 degrees.

It’s funny, as the mercury falls you see a dramatic increase in the number of people running.  Sidewalks that were devoid of any soul just 2 weeks earlier when temps were 85 degrees are suddenly overflowing the first weekend in October when the thermometer reads 60 degrees.  But where does everyone go 3 weeks later when it’s 50 degrees?  It seems that personal goal achievement has an exponentially negative correlation with discomfort for many people.  And ironically the more rewarding goals are typically achieved through overcoming greater discomfort.  It’s a shame because what most people deem to be painful is mostly a mental block.

For centuries Native Americans lived close to the land without the creature comforts like central heating and air.  I’m sure they were cold in the winter, but they were not uncomfortable.  I believe it was Chief Joseph who once said “We did not know we were cold until the white man told us.”  While I don’t profess to be tough enough to be able to completely give up my climate controlled home I think it does make a poignant statement on how soft we have become.  Most people live in a thermostat controlled environment with a grand temperature range of 67 to 75 degrees.  Get any suburban dwelling family outside of that and you’ll start hearing complaints for days on end.

It is interesting to watch the reaction from people when I tell them I am going for a bike ride when it’s 30 degrees outside.  Predictably, I hear a whole lot of things like “It’s too cold for that, you’re crazy!”  But what they don’t know is that cold does not mean major discomfort.  Sure, the first couple of miles may feel a bit of a wind bite in my toes and fingers, but only if that’s what I want to concentrate on.  Somewhere down the line I focus on the ride – cadence, proper shifting, plans to attack the hills – and that discomfort disappears.  In fact, the ride actually becomes enjoyable.

This phenomenon is not relegated solely to cold weather.  Heat, rain, wind, snow and any other inclement weather becomes an excuse for people to hide indoors and complain.  If I wanted to wait for the conditions to be perfect and comfortable I could get approximately 2 weeks of training in each year.  Definitely not enough to prevent me from ballooning to 300 pounds, much less completing a marathon or Ironman triathlon.  So instead of wishing for “comfortable” conditions I choose to train in all conditions and find that my comfort range is far greater than I could have realized.  The most rewarding part of that is when I pass a fellow “crazy” athlete during a training run or ride because I know that they are committed to their goals too.  It’s a fellowship that you just can’t understand unless you’re doing it.  The real crazy thing about that is that we are happy and comfortable out on the road while most people are inside complaining about the weather and how it paralyzes them.  Expand your comfort zone and you can accomplish more.

What did I get myself into?

232 days to race day
 

“A ship in the harbor is safe.  But that’s not what ships are built for.” – John Augustus Shedd

 

Well, if you’re reading this you must be really bored but thanks for stopping by anyway.  On July 27, 2014, I am scheduled to compete in the Lake Placid Ironman triathlon.  Swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and then run a full 26.2 mile marathon all in one day.  Seeing that glare back in black and white scares the hell out of me.  But it’s not the first journey I’ve decided to tackle that seems daunting, almost bigger than what I am capable of accomplishing.  As I was going over some old documents I came across a blog I kept while I was training for my first Voyageur 50 trail run and it made me smile and remember that “it’s impossible” is just my excuse for being afraid to try.  So, like every other half literate human with a keyboard who thinks they have something profound to share I decided to start a blog as I prepare for yet another ridiculous endeavor.  While what I have to say is not likely too profound (but it is in my head anyway), hopefully it will at least be entertaining to catalog my experiences on the road to Lake Placid. 

The whole idea of competing in an Ironman triathlon has been in the back of my mind for years.  It was filed back there with the rest of those things on most people’s bucket lists – travel the world, go skydiving, climb Everest, complete a Western States 100 in under 30 hours, run a Grand Canyon rim-to-rim-to-rim.  Well ok, I admit maybe my bucket list hints at a bit of insanity, but the thing about insanity is it can be contagious.  A little over a year ago the crazy flu caught up with another friend.  That’s when we decided we were going to compete in Lake Placid Ironman because it sounded really cool and people will think we are amazing for such a notion. 

It was kind of like when you’re drinking at the bar and right before closing time someone stands up and announces “We’re road tripping to Vegas tonight.”  Everyone gets really excited, but then Joey starts puking, Tim passes out and John’s girlfriend shames him into tears for being so inconsiderate about her feelings.  The road trip is cancelled before the taxi can be secured.  It would have been an epic trip, the stuff dreams and movies are made of.  Since the trip was abandoned for reasons beyond human control (only an act of God could stop the genius behind that trip) we all get half credit anyway and laugh about what could have been.  Not so with the Ironman. 

We never sobered up, our wives have not brought us back to our senses, the whole notion wasn’t lost in an alcoholic blackout and the credit card did not get declined when the entrance fee was paid.  Oh shit! 

For several months now the concept and breadth of this has been obscured by time.  It has been very abstract and far away but my official training starts January 1.  Now that the time for this journey to officially begin is upon me it appears almost impossible.  However, nothing great ever comes easy and experience has taught me that the fear is good.  Man is not supposed to remain in a state of comfort because there is no growth in it.  In order to grow I must step out of my comfort zone and face my fears.  Much like the quote I led this post with, we are not built to remain safely in the harbor, we are is built to explore the seas and risk finding something great.  It may come at a cost but I’d rather pay for the experience than to sit on shore and wonder “what if…..”