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

Try-Just One More Day

Very close to pulling the plug on my ironman event. There is so much wrong going on in my body I don't even take inventory of it anymore. And, in tired times, the wrongs overrun the spirit. Why do this? Then there are days like this after a good night of sleep, good food yesterday, and an awesomely beautiful, practically windless day. And the humbled spirit raises its bloodied head to catch the sunbeams of hope; a deep breath, a small smile: just one more day. I don't have to do the ironman event. That is a couple months off. But, I just have to do justice to this one wonderful day; give more breath to this great feeling inside me. Try - just one more day. One more day: Bless me Lord in it.

An Athlete's Heart

Prior to registering for Ironman Texas http://ironmantexas.com/ , I went to the doctor for a regular check up, but I scheduled in the "big question" too. Results of the check up were good.

"One more thing, doctor. I am thinking and praying about doing a full ironman event. My check up was good but what about doing an ironman. The doctor smiled, shook his head, and scheduled me for more tests. After all that, he came back to me with an even bigger smile.

"You have an athlete's heart. Go on. Do it !"

That night I registered, and began making plans and dreaming dreams ever since. An electric excitement has pervaded those first view days. It was scary, but so much fun; so exciting ! God has truly blessed me with an athlete's heart in many ways. But, I knew that already. Now to go and do it: go and use it. Let it be my gift, my burden, my blessing to live life as one with an athlete's heart.

Gratefulness

Not long ago she had a bike accident and broke her arm. Possibly, knowing how to fall well saved her from even worse injuries. This was her second broken arm in the last couple of years. She is a triathlete, a black belt, and has completed an ironman; She is an ironmom.

I was so impressed with the post today that I just have to share it. It exudes such gratefulness of the everyday blessings in her life. There is such wisdom and energy in this. And, she has signed up for another ironman event..

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Best of Times

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.

"Wilson" Is Alive and Well

She doesn't cut me any slack. My wife listens patiently to all my noise about how I want to do this event, that event, train thus and so, and when the time comes that I really act on something, she jumps right in with support. She has my recovery drinks ready when I drive up from a hard run or bike. She is my backup should I break down on one of my training efforts. She even sets her alarm to get up with me on my pre-dawn training efforts.

Sometimes I wish she wasn't so supportive. Her support seems to often create a debt to her that drives me from the secure, excuse-rich shadows, into the glaring spotlight of personal responsibility. And, she can make me laugh at myself, my bold pronouncements, and my oft inflated self-image. She can bring me down to where and who I really am.

Today, I came to the table to get my usual delicious, healthful breakfast, and the girl had the food arranged in this "Wilson" picture. Sure I have a hard training day, but the take-home message I got was: Look at "Wilson" and don't take yourself too seriously today. Maybe the real "Wilson" is a sort of self-portrait: A swollen head full of air with long hair sticking up. OK, I will work on the swelled head, and I am off to get a haircut.