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.