The Bad Patch

Life is often a hilly course. Sometimes in the valleys, looking up at the steepness of the hill and the distance to the top, our resolve weakens, our courage softens, and dreams can give way to the urge to avoid any more discomfort.

Last week was overcomer's week.
Monday was a brutal day of four disciplines leaving residual fatigue for the Tuesday 40 mile ride and brick run.
Tuesday , tired already. Out on the ride as early as mile ten, I started to sag. I didn’t want to go on. Maybe I will just do twenty and rest up? When I get back at the truck, do I quit or hang on? It is a ten mile out and back course and the ride back to the truck seemed to take forever. I was so tired; tired of being on the bike. My thoughts went continually went back to a nice shower, a soft recliner, and rest. Finally back at the truck, I got something to eat, lots to drink, and began to feel better. Maybe?
Isn’t this is where it is at? I am training for an ironman, for goodness sakes. Did I expect to feel rested all the time? I am training to endure fatigue, and here I have a massive dose and I want to take it to the house and rest? Do you want to be an ironman or a recliner jockey ? Which one do you think God is calling you out to be? Maybe I will just do the 40 miles and just skip the run? I am not sure my injured knee will hold up anyway. Whatever ! Just get back on the bike and get out there!

The legs soon found a rhythm, a good spin. The bike moving very well. Energy was returning. The wind was in my face; turn-around, the wind is at my back. I was soaring. And I was a little surprised it was over so soon. Having forgotten all about hedging on my workout, I grabbed my cap, a fresh water bottle and was out running on the road. It hurt some, but at the same time, there was a certain rush to enduring into discomfort. And, I ended the run with a smile. Thank you God!

Two days later, I had a 70 mile bike ride scheduled, but the first twenty really took it out of me. This time, though, I did not consider hedging my workout with a retreat to the recliner. Instead, I thought of ways to work through this bad patch. And I did. There was another bad patch at miles 45-50 more or less, but I got through that one too. It was almost as if I were training in bad patch intervals. For once, I had the sense that I was indeed, I am training for an ironman.

Two days later was my dreaded long run. Previous knee problems had me timid and afraid in the face of this long run. The bad patch was right at the beginning. Everything seemed to hurt. I was so tired, already. I almost called it quits the first quarter mile.

Keep moving, you are training for an ironman. This is just a phase; a mood. Keep moving. Learn to endure more, then endure more. You said you would try. You said you would train. Is “your honor greater than your moods. Yes!

And the running got better. The discomfort got stowed away. I was into the moment. I was enduring. I was totally alive. Thank God.
And today, I am mentally, personally, and spiritually closer to being ready for my ironman attempt than I have ever been. But today, I am also terribly tired. Ironman training seems to be a series of hill repeats in fatigue tolerance.
Life is a hilly course. What applies to ironman, applies to life. There will be fatigue, self-doubts, discomfort: there will be bad patches in everyone’s life. But, in pushing through to the other side, in going on, confronting the bad patches, the fears , and failures, we can become the persons God called us to be, and live out our faith in the promise of that great finish line for all those who believe.

"Behold, we count them happy which endure.---------------"
James 5:11

Smile

Never thought it would come to this. I just want to beat the course cut-off on a sprint triathlon. Gone are days are hoping for a PR. Could this be my PW (personal worst)? Sure took the tension out of the race prep though. This weekend I am scheduled for the CB & I sprint triathlon in the Woodlands and I know the injured hamstring and buttock won’t let me run. This could be my slowest 5k ever. Perhaps, I have lost it because when I write that, it makes me smile. Smile, because I anticipate a great time this weekend, a fun race, and just being out there, just being able to do any part of this, well, it just makes me smile. And I know, I have faith; I will heal. I will run again without pain. I will be competitive again. But, for now, I get to enjoy the laid back and just smile at my predicament. There is a joy yet in the experience, because I can still experience and my best effort will be pleasing to God. I feel blessed . I didn’t train into that. As the song says, “the world didn’t give it and the world can’t take it away.”

Finding My Way

How do I get through this? This was my thought as I began my swim. Yesterday, was a pretty good workout for me. And, I could feel some overall residual fatigue from it. On my last twenty miles of a sixty mile bike, a friend of mine, my age, a better biker, found me on the course. My plans were just to slack on through this last twenty miles and do a two mile brick run; slow and steady. But, that didn’t work out. My friend and I set a good pace and held it. Thank God, I was able to keep up with him. Oh, but I dreaded that two mile brick run. Surprisingly, it went really well. The fatigue beginning the swim had me a little concerned. This was the day I was to attempt my longest ever swim: three miles. Just didn’t feel up for this at all. But, I had travelled sixty plus miles to get to the pool. Sheer economics, fuel costs and such, told me this was something I have invested in; something I need to do. I felt like a water-plow the first few laps and thought that maybe I should save myself and this effort for another day. My will and want to must have stayed at home today. The early laps involved some serious self-talk. When I had a few laps behind me, I figured the percentage of the total swim done to find the level of which I was vested in this swim. Vested enough, I figured , would be like closing the back door and minimizing my chances of quitting. I was trying to drive myself into a corner where the only choice left was to finish. And, I prayed for strength. There was always enough for one more lap. One more lap, one more lap and I became seriously vested in this. There reached a point at around a mile and half when I was for certain I was not going to quit. That sort of freed me to start enjoying this somewhat. My shoulder – the one I had rotator cuff surgery on – hurt some. I got cramps in my left foot. My neck muscles hurt some but , lap after lap brought me closer to the goal. Other swimmers came and went, others came, others went, I still plodded on, lap after lap. The last few laps were not as difficult as I would have imagined. I was not as spent as I would have imagined. And, I had swam farther than I ever imagined I ever could. Thanks God. And perhaps, the most important training I got today was not the fitness or endurance from the long swim, but personal training in finding a way even when things are not working so well, and I don’t really feel all that great.

Facing Down "Can't"

Could barely walk when I got out of bed

What was I thinking in scheduling a 15 mile run today?
Why even try?
That knee hurts every step.
Why bother today?
You'll only make it worse and possibly ruin your knee
But I said I would try.
I said I would keep trying until I looked "can't" in the face.
<i>This IS "can't" bro.
Are you rum-dum or something?
You are hobbling badly here.
Take note.
Tell "can't" to meet me on the road. We'll talk there.

I got my hydration and nutrition together just as if I were going to make it, and drove out to the run course. Afraid of the worst, putting it off until the last minute, I stretched and stretched and stretched. Then it was time for the showdown; time to face down can't. The day was one pouring myself out unto empty, pleading with God not to let this day break me. It wasn't pretty, but as I slogged out the miles with only minor pain there came an underlying sense of joy, and thankfulness. It wasn't fast but a purposeful steady, three hour plod. Finishing, I raised my hands in gratitude for the blessing I had received: Fifteen miles done! "Can't" never showed up on the road for arbitration or conflict. Hope was present and accounted for. Praise God!

Free Wheeling Easy

Things were a little tough out there. Previous bike rides had been great. That day, I felt like I was dragging something behind my bike; just couldn't seem to get the rhythm. The hills were especially difficult. The down hill runs weren't as fast. Everything was sluggish. Still it was a good day because I was out there, and I could do this. As dead as my bike felt, I felt alive and blessed.

After getting home I notice that my front brake looked a little close. I worked the lever and the caliper didn't move that much. When I opened the calipers with my hand, they sprung apart. The brake was sticking and, I had done that ride with it dragging a bit. No wonder it felt sluggish.

The next ride was free wheeling easy and I wonder how many other little things are putting up a slight drag to keep me from having the ride in life that God would have for me. What part of my life and habits are stuck in closed position, keeping me from getting up to speed to free wheeling easy, on hopes and dreams out there on the course?

Riding On to That "Sweet Spot"

The bike always seems at first as if it is going to be tough. My first thoughts usually are that the legs just don't have it today, and I should just cruise through the workout at pedestrian effort just to get it done. It happens so often that I find myself smiling at the game that I play upon myself. Gosh, I have been doing this so long, I have grown to expect internal conflict at the first of a workout.

Somewhere between "oh, this is too hard" and the end of the ride, it starts to flow. The pedal stroke is smoother, more powerful. The breathing is right, the endurance is there and I find I am soaring with the wind blowing in my face. And, I smile again, when I have re-found that "sweet spot;" when I have come back to myself, and touched the beauty; tasted the blessing that God would have for one who rides on in faith, believing that the "sweet spot" will come.

Hope Looks Up

When really tired, I run like someone boxing a very short person: all hunched up, looking down. Lately, I have been trying to improve my fatigued running style. Bad part of that is: I have to get really fatigued to work on it.

It is taking extreme measures to overcome this awful running style, so I play games upon myself. When I feel my body start to creep into hunched position, I fight back by pulling my cap down low over my eyes. No, I can't see where I am going unless I look up. But my head must tilt back to view the road. When I do, I seem to feel an imaginary string pulling my head up. My other body parts then seem reminded and inspired. The shoulders go back, the hips go forward, and the scuff, scuff is taken out of my step. And it all started by looking up.

Sometime life gets as tiring as the last miles of a long run, and we might be slogging along on a scuffing survival march, looking down, hardly aware of where we might be going. But, hope looks up. Perhaps we were made and set here to give expression of this Hope, so that others may feel reminded and inspired to become part of that Hope God has set within us. Hope looking up may just take the scuff-scuff from our journey.

My Ironman

It scares me to think about attempting an ironman distance event. I am sure it is a little scary to everyone who attempts it. Sometimes, when I get all beat down by training that doesn't even approximate ironman distance event training, I wonder: can I do this? In that moment of weakness, excuses pour out from me like spilled jelly beans. And so my fears and I go through a vasillilation process of "to do" or "not to do."

Just about the time, I am happily deluded, Just about the time I think I am about ready to scrap this alleged nonsense of ironman, I see the cap my wife has on the wall. Big, bold letters are printed upon it that say, "Marvin, My Ironman." Like the old Kenny Rodgers song, "She believes in me." And she believes in me when I don't even believe in myself. When I can't see myself finishing an ironman, she believes and sees.

And God believes in me.
"Marvin, My Ironman."
"I'm not that good. I have no talent. I get so tired. I just don't have it."
"Marvin, my ironman."

Looking at that cap my wife made, I realize I have to try. I must honor her and I must honor God, for their belief in me, for making me dream dreams larger than myself, for giving me the courage to try to achieve them.

If I Want Doors To Open

"If you want your boomerang to come back, first you've got to throw it." If I want doors to open, I must first turn the doorknob.

This idea is not original with me, but a pearl gleaned from being a follower of a blog called The Doorknob Chronicles. http://thedoorknobchronicles.blogspot.com/ Thank you Steven.

Getting out the door is that first step to overcoming procrastination, lack of commitment, love of creature comfort. I have found that life is nothing like going into a supermarket with automatic doors. In my own life I have found that anything truly of value comes from turning the doorknob, and opening the door for myself. Can it be said that the door to the outside of ourselves is the barrier that appears to keep us safe, but in reality keeps us hostage to our lesser selves? The door we hide behind just might be to our jail cell.

That first step outside just might challenge me to overcome; to be all God would grow me to; and it begins with turning the doorknob, and passing over the threshold of my fears and weaknesses to be brave upon the world I was created for.

This Triathlete's Prayer

Standing at the edge of the lake, waiting for the event, the day, and the remainder of my life to begin.  I humbly ask your blessing for Your plans and purposes to be fulfilled in all that lies before me. May I fear not to enter the waters cold, or to climb the steep hills of this course or the course of this life. Help me to remember that I am "beautifully and wonderfully" made, and you have placed all I need within me. Give me courage to step out in faith: to try more, to risk more, to care more, to be more than I am now, that I may grow toward all you would have me be.

And when I push beyond myself; when my steps grow weary toward despair, continue to carry me on, that I might finish this race with grateful humility.

In Jesus' Name---Amen