Thursday, January 9, 2014
A Place I Love to Go
It rained all day. Despite my best plans, any training would have to be indoors. The indoor bike ride; not an appealing thought. What to do? Impulse was to get a movie and just piddle through the ride, nice and easy. Then the arm wrestling contest with oneself. This was supposed to be my long ride day. So how could I just do a “soft and easy” when I am supposed to be doing a long ride day?
OK, OK. I reluctantly decided to do a training dvd. This was a new one that I had never done. And, it didn’t look that hard and even if it was, I could just take it easy on the hard parts. I decided to warm up on the bike for five minutes before I turned the training video on. That felt pretty good. Five minutes came quickly. I didn’t want to stop the warm-up. I didn’t. Finally, after a fifteen minute warm-up, I had made a sort of peace with the indoor biking and felt ready to hit “play.”
It was much harder than I thought it would be. Standing climbs, intervals, tempo intervals; my heart rate was moving higher and higher. I wondered could I hold this? Can I hang on? Somewhere about the middle of the fifty-three minute session, a switch must have got flipped, and I was in. Something had clicked-in in my mind, heart, and body. I had stepped up and stepped past myself. Now I held the higher heart rate, the harder climbs, the higher tempos without feeling on the edge and about to lose grip. I had been counting down the minutes to the end of session but now I was hating to see it end.
This was not my first time to experience this track-switching to a different zone. However, it never fails to thrill me. That is a place I love to go; where limits are transgressed, walls are broken down, and the self extended past perception. And if this all be true, then what else. How far can we hope? Maybe not pushing myself enough is limiting the distance of my hopes. Perhaps, God has it all waiting for us; waiting for use to look beyond the horizon of our perceptions, and in faith believe there is more; in this life and the other.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Strange Feeling for Me
Almost fell in Walmart last night. People were here, there, everywhere, and a quick pivot left me off balance: strange feeling for me. However, earlier in the day I was helping bring a stove we bought in the house and on a step up, the load buckled my knee - backwards. It was all I could do to go down without dropping the brand new stove: strange feeling for me. And I want to do an Ironman? I want to bike 112 miles and get off the bike and run 26 miles on that knee? Serious doubts. How does one handle an unstable knee? How does one deal with the pain all day and half the night? So, to escape the "strange feelings for me," I just retreat to my comfort zone; that is, just keep moving forward; one unstable step after another.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Rescue the Perishing
My motivation was at low tide. All my weaknesses were laid bare and I didn't like the picture. And then there was the down time of Christmas, the departure, at times, from good nutrition; I was tired already. Ready to quit if I just barely got tipped over. I prayed about the possible decision to quit.
My Christmas luncheon was with my 99 year old Mother in the nursing home. We brought her a good Christmas meal and her appetite is still zesty. She loved it. Then some more of my family showed up. The room got crowded and I found myself gravitating toward sitting near my nephew who is signed up for Ironman Lake Placid. The fire in his eyes lit up as mine surely did, as we told of injuries, experiences, hopes, and dreams in endurance sport.
Afterwards, driving home, I had a different slant on my thinking. No big explosions, no aha moments, but I unconsciously set about to continue my training. Three days later, I found that I done some great training, my motivation was back, and I really don't want to quit, if there is even a chance - even if it is a small chance. Perhaps, my nephew was my answered prayer; a confirmation. Perhaps, without his knowledge, he was sent to bring me out and point me up. Perhaps, without my knowledge, I am being used to bring others out and point them up as well?
My Christmas luncheon was with my 99 year old Mother in the nursing home. We brought her a good Christmas meal and her appetite is still zesty. She loved it. Then some more of my family showed up. The room got crowded and I found myself gravitating toward sitting near my nephew who is signed up for Ironman Lake Placid. The fire in his eyes lit up as mine surely did, as we told of injuries, experiences, hopes, and dreams in endurance sport.
Afterwards, driving home, I had a different slant on my thinking. No big explosions, no aha moments, but I unconsciously set about to continue my training. Three days later, I found that I done some great training, my motivation was back, and I really don't want to quit, if there is even a chance - even if it is a small chance. Perhaps, my nephew was my answered prayer; a confirmation. Perhaps, without his knowledge, he was sent to bring me out and point me up. Perhaps, without my knowledge, I am being used to bring others out and point them up as well?
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Against All Odds - Christmas Story
Christmas approaching and as usual for this time of the year: training is in the toilet. Stuff comes out against me like one bad dream after another. My own motivation is tottering, about to fall. The big question comes out time and again like a haunting melody: Why do this anyway?
There are so many "practical" things I could be doing with my time instead of training or resting up from training. Why do this anyway? Do I really want this? And, my asthmas has messed with my breathing lately; my leg is painful to run on; family crisis seems a daily occurrence; Christmas expenses are off the charts, and I feel so out of shape. This whole thing seems to be going on against all odds. Isn't that foolhardy? Perhaps.
But, it is Christmas: a time when Hope was brought into the world to save. And so I go on right now, against all odds "O come all ye faithful;" a child of hope myself.
There are so many "practical" things I could be doing with my time instead of training or resting up from training. Why do this anyway? Do I really want this? And, my asthmas has messed with my breathing lately; my leg is painful to run on; family crisis seems a daily occurrence; Christmas expenses are off the charts, and I feel so out of shape. This whole thing seems to be going on against all odds. Isn't that foolhardy? Perhaps.
But, it is Christmas: a time when Hope was brought into the world to save. And so I go on right now, against all odds "O come all ye faithful;" a child of hope myself.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Who Do I Think I'm Kidding
It doesn't look good for the home team. That was my reply to a loud pop followed wobbling instability in my bad knee. Immediately I tried to brush back the negative thought, "who did I think I'm kidding?" And I remember the scene from "Rocky" in which he is in bed talking to Adrian the night before the big fight. "Who do I think I'm kidding?" he said. "I'm not even in this guy's league."
And who do I think I am kidding? I am in way over my head here too. The ironman is so much bigger than I am; than I am going to be prepared for. Who do I think I'm kidding? I will need to run fifteen minute miles on the run to make the cut-off. I can't do that; not even close. My knee still hurts a little, but the problem is that the injury has really messed with my gait. My run is so clumsy-looking that I try to get my runs in where no one will be watching. An ironman? Who do I think I'm kidding?
My biking is improving. The long rides are getting done, but it is doubtful that I can get my biking up enough to compensate for my ultra slow marathon.
OK, so there is not much of a chance that I will even get to the start of the ironman and even less of chance I will complete it. I have said that I estimate I have only a one in ten chance of completing the ironman. That estimate takes in all the land-mine family issues hanging out there that could blow up under my feet any minute. That takes into account the bad knee which I am not sure will hold up for the long haul. That takes into account for my age, which I don't feel yet, but with the level of training I need to do, I just don't know if age will finally show up.
Listen to me. Who do I think I'm kidding now? This is perfect. Of course the chances are only about ten percent, but if I keep on with the training there is a hundred percent chance I will immensely enjoy this journey. There is not much to lose that won't be lost eventually. If I spend my life trying to save my life, trying to save my effort and disappointment, I will lose the richest moments in life. I will lose my life by trying to save it. And for what? If I try and fail, I have had a great experience, a great journey, a wonderful adventure: I have the knowledge that I did my very best. My best; it is what supporters deserve and God calls me to, and I am not kidding.
And who do I think I am kidding? I am in way over my head here too. The ironman is so much bigger than I am; than I am going to be prepared for. Who do I think I'm kidding? I will need to run fifteen minute miles on the run to make the cut-off. I can't do that; not even close. My knee still hurts a little, but the problem is that the injury has really messed with my gait. My run is so clumsy-looking that I try to get my runs in where no one will be watching. An ironman? Who do I think I'm kidding?
My biking is improving. The long rides are getting done, but it is doubtful that I can get my biking up enough to compensate for my ultra slow marathon.
OK, so there is not much of a chance that I will even get to the start of the ironman and even less of chance I will complete it. I have said that I estimate I have only a one in ten chance of completing the ironman. That estimate takes in all the land-mine family issues hanging out there that could blow up under my feet any minute. That takes into account the bad knee which I am not sure will hold up for the long haul. That takes into account for my age, which I don't feel yet, but with the level of training I need to do, I just don't know if age will finally show up.
Listen to me. Who do I think I'm kidding now? This is perfect. Of course the chances are only about ten percent, but if I keep on with the training there is a hundred percent chance I will immensely enjoy this journey. There is not much to lose that won't be lost eventually. If I spend my life trying to save my life, trying to save my effort and disappointment, I will lose the richest moments in life. I will lose my life by trying to save it. And for what? If I try and fail, I have had a great experience, a great journey, a wonderful adventure: I have the knowledge that I did my very best. My best; it is what supporters deserve and God calls me to, and I am not kidding.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
The Perfect Start
Thank God for the times when it all comes together. What a blessing when the plan becomes real. It was only this week but it was perfect. This was no easy task as the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” were out in force like a bunch of defensive linemen on a goal line stand. It was as if to say, “nobody has a perfect week. Nobody.” But I did. Today I finish up with an hour and a half run in a cold rain; finally perfect.
But this is only one week. I believe there are twenty five more to go. Of course, they won’t be perfect. I am human. But, I have a good training plan, and if I follow it as best I can, I believe I can finish my course; finish my ironman.
And I also believe that God has his perfect plan for me and my life. And, if I do my very best to follow His plan – though all my days and weeks won’t be perfect – one day I can finish His course. Praise God, I will have my perfect finish in Him.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
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
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
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