Sunday, July 16, 2006

Motivate!






I really am quite lucky. At the tender young age of 24, I live in one of the most beautiful places in the world. I am surrounded by natural raw beauty everywhere I go. I am also surrounded by incredibly skilled, talented, hardworking and determined athletes, and I am further blessed to count a few of these people among my friends. There’s nothing like getting advice from a pro: whether or not it ends up benefiting your training or working for you in the end. There’s something about getting advice from somebody who’s not only been where you are, but are so far above and beyond where you are that the issues you’re dealing with aren’t even among their considerations or concerns anymore.

Gregory, for instance, has been training hard to get himself into spectacular shape for his next Ironman triathlon in Roth, Germany in 2007 (God forbid he’d register for a race somewhere in America…where I can actually go see him race!). He’s dropped a ton of weight and despite the demands of running his company, taking on new clients (and keeping the ones he has happy) and having a good amount of his support system in Chicago, California and France, continues to train like a pro. Having recently completed the Horribly Hilly Hundred in Chicago (see http://frogblogging.blogspot.com for more details) he continues to work on his swim-bike-and-run with amazing drive and spirit.

My buyer and close colleague Robin led a team of fellow Oats employees thru one of the crappiest weekend the MS150 has seen in years: cold rain, hail, thunder and lightning storms and the requisite infinite flat tires, wet pavement, mildewy clothing and soggy cycling that comes with the kind of weather they had to battle. In spite of it all the entire Oats team made it thru the entire 150 miles and came back to work in high spirits and with boatloads of great ride stories to share.

My most recent friend Scott is truly a blessing: he has a heart of gold and the most enthusiastic spirit I’ve ever known. Aside from sharing a wealth of common interests outside of sports (Happy Thursday cruiser rides, electronica & dance music, creative expression, teaching, living in Boulder, etc.), we share similar loves for cycling and running. Scott’s a brilliant athlete and a will-be pro cyclist, as in, is working to get his points to turn pro some time in the next year or so.

Scott, as well as other friends of mine who are close to me and know my demanding training schedule, have all voiced concern in regards to my motivation lately. It seems as though my self-deprecating comments and the joking pot shots I take at myself, the athlete are distressing my dear friends, increasing their fears of my attitude towards training and causing undue alarm. So the point of this post, really, is to allay those fears.

When you get to know me well enough you’ll eventually understand that I give myself shit so that I continue to push myself harder. I’ve never been one to respond to sweet talk or spoon-feeding when it comes to motivation or coaching. While I have a great awareness of my body and can fully appreciate the necessity of coddling myself when I am injured or otherwise removed from training (like the past week and a half when I haven’t gotten anything serious done due to the root canal and pain therapy I’ve undergone recently), the rest of the time I pretty much need to be smacked around to get myself really moving. When I was considering taking on the Leadville Trail 100 this August, I asked Gregory to be my support crew because he knew exactly what I would need: to be kicked when I’m down, so to speak. After enough miles on my feet the only thing that keeps me going is anger. I get pissed off at myself, start yelling at myself and ride the adrenaline rush that is triggered by the emotional release. It works well for me.

I am not, however, a generally angry or upset person; my main motivators aren’t fury and rage but much more rational thoughts. I am nowhere near the shape I need to be in to complete the upcoming marathon in September, and while I know this now, I don’t beat myself up much about it. I jokingly do, but realistically I know that I have over two months to prepare and by the time the marathon rolls around I will be in great shape to take on the 26.2 miles. If I stress too much about this I get discouraged, so I don’t. I do have an arsenal of motivators that keep me going, though, and in the interests of assuaging Scott’s fears, along with the concerns of the rest of my friends and family, I’m going to take this opportunity to share them:

1) My main and most important motivator is myself. I feel better when I train. I feel better when I put in the time for myself to run, whether it’s a quick 3.5 mile loop or a weekend distance run of much higher mileage. I feel better when I do my legs lifts in the morning, when I eat to support my training, and when I do my strength training and cross-training workouts. I simply feel better about everything else in my life when I am actively working to be more healthy, active, and fit.
2) I train because I love to run. I really do. After years of rejecting running because of being forced into it as a kid, I run now because I love the feeling of my feet hitting the pavement, my heart rate dancing around its optimum to properly accommodate the activity I am doing, the pace of my steps matching the music on my “Nikepod”, the feeling of sunshine and wind and the air outdoors energizing me.
3) When I run, I usually quite easily slip into “the zone” or “the runner’s high”. For me, it’s more of a zone thing; the runner’s high doesn’t really exist. I say this because I don’t feel high but I truly do feel kind of transported out of the world and onto a different, maybe even a higher, plane of reality, where all of my footfalls, my breathing, my pacing and my movement are coming together to allow me to really enjoy my run. A lot of the time I struggle, but I keep moving because I know that that struggle is going to give way to something greater, to achieve an experience I can’t create and maintain on my own in my day-to-day life otherwise. One moment, you’re really struggling, your breaths are ragged, your pace is all over the charts, your form is floppy and your footfalls are sagging. Then it all comes together, and nothing else matters but the movement of your body and everything in that movement working cohesively to create this amazing experience. It’s otherworldly and unreal.
4) I run because it allows me to experience this beautiful place that I live in. I get a greater appreciation for Boulder and its incredible beauty and idyllic setting when I run. When I run it gives me the opportunity to entirely appreciate this beautiful town, exorbitant rent and all.
5) I run because my family is proud of my running. Unlike some of my less-fortunate friends, my family is supportive of my training, sympathetic to my trials and ecstatic about my achievements. I am grateful for the dogged, relentless and unconditional encouragement of the people I love the most.
6) I run because it keeps me close to people who care about the same things I do. It’s like anything else: the activities you do, the events in which you participate and the lifestyle you live determine the people that surround you. Now that doesn’t mean, by any stretch of the imagination, that I surround myself solely with athletes and endurance runners. My friends are as varied and colorful as the music I listen to; they are an eclectic mix of people from all walks of life. I find that, however, I tend to attract fewer smokers, serious drinkers, partiers, etc. Now, make no mistake, my friends and I know how to party with the best of them. But it’s not really the lifestyle they, for the most part, live. Generally speaking, while my friends range from a conservationist in Kenya working to maintain the population of large predators to a self-made businesswoman in Superior, CO working to achieve her bachelor’s degree in psychology to the food-loving culinary geniuses I work with at Oats, there are a few trends that seem to run deeply within all of us. We all share an enormous respect for and devotion to the environment and generally maintain an approach to our lives which encourages sustainable growth and the development of preservationist mindsets and outlooks. We are, generally speaking, left-leaning and liberally-thinking. We all prioritize healthy, natural living. We also all prioritize fun. My friends and I tend to take a “you only live once” approach to life as much as possible and, while our lives’ restraints don’t generally allow us the kind of extravagance that comes with this mindset, we try to live life to its fullest at all times, as much as possible.
7) I run because it reinforces my three major beliefs in life: 1) everything happens for a reason, 2) never ever ever ever ever ever ever regret, and 3) for all we know, this is our only shot, so we might as well enjoy it as much as possible. Running tends to quietly reinforce these beliefs in myriad applications: I run because I am training for a marathon, but I also run because it supports the more important goals and objectives of my life, to live healthfully, to be happy, to be strong, and to take care of myself. Running “happens” because it fits in perfectly with everything else that is important to me. Running comes with no regrets; how can you possibly look back on a good run and say it shouldn’t have happened? Consequences that occur on bad runs, e.g. nearly getting hit by a car, sustaining an injury, etc., all happen for a reason, and are learning opportunities, so there’s no reason to regret them either. Running is one of the most enjoyable things I do, so it innately becomes a part of living life to its fullest, by being an activity that completely, fully, and perfectly integrates into my life.
8) I run because it is one of my passions. I can’t really explain this much more, except to say that I feel absolutely incredible when running; I am completely and totally and fully happy.
9) I run because it reveals my weaknesses. Physically, of course, running shows me what I need to work on and how I need to accommodate my body’s idiosyncrasies. More importantly, though, running reveals my mental and emotional weaknesses. It shows me what it takes to push me to my limits, to test me, to tear me down, so that I can perform past my limits, pass the tests, and build myself back up.
10) I run because it gives me my “me time”. I never realized how popular I am or what a great circle of friends and social life I have until recently, when I found myself genuinely craving time on my own. Running gives me that time, and nobody and nothing can take it away from me.

Now, motivators for the marathon are a bit different, but they’re all positive too. A quick run-down:

1) I want to run a marathon for myself, so that I can achieve that goal for me. This is first and foremost.
2) I want to run a marathon for the bragging rights. I want to be able to say that I did it, that I accomplished this. I want the finisher medal, the postrace jubilation and the Avery beer pint glass.
3) I want to run a marathon as the basis for the LT100 2007.
4) I want to run a marathon because it’s the next logical step.
5) I want to run a marathon so that I never want to do an Ironman. 
6) I want to run a marathon to prove myself to the naysayers.
7) I want to run a marathon to make my family proud of me.
8) I want to run a marathon so that I can eat loads of carbs in the meantime and work them off in training!
9) I want to run a marathon to be in the best shape of my life.
10) I want to run a marathon so I can say I ran on with Dean Karnazes.
11) I want to run a marathon because it brings me that much closer to my idol, Bella Comerford, and her achievements.
12) I want to run a marathon so that I know what I am capable of achieving. No more “what if” or “if only I could”; instead, “I did” and “I can”.
13) I want to run a marathon for my parents, who can’t, and for my friends who think they can’t. Hey, if I can do it, anyone can!!!

Later on, everybody. Happy training!

Thursday, July 13, 2006

On Wet-Road Criteria and Motivational Challenges

Over the course of the past few weeks my training has intensified. I often show up at work or work "events", happy hours and dinners and farewell parties and such, limping, bruised, or otherwise off-kilter due to some training tragedy or another. Nothing too crazy, just a sore ACL here, a jacked-up ITB there. Aching Achilles (yep, just couldn't resist the urge to alliterate there), tender quads...you know, the stuff that requires icing and a bit of rest but not much more than that. I feel a bit pathetic sometimes especially in Boulder, Land of the Endurance Athletes Extraordinaire. Like I have anything to complain about, or be sore about. The injuries I sustain, in comparison to those the pros take on, are nothing but tiny bumps in the road, little scratches. I get discouraged sometimes, not so much by what's been happening to me but rather by my "pansiness", that is, my inability to deal with these traumas effectively, especially in light of the experiences of some of my friends.

My most recent friend and absolute treasure Scott, cyclist extraordinaire on the brink of turning pro, has a huge heart and a spirit whose enthusiasm, charm and raw beauty is very nearly overwhelming. His talent, drive and spirit are balanced in such equal proportion that greater forces at work in the universe seem to take care of him: at his criterium last Saturday, the July 8 North Boulder Park Crit, the wettest race I've ever personally witnessed during the wettest few days I've ever seen in Boulder (seriously, it NEVER rains like it did in the past week), instant karma prevailed in circumstances that, after understanding how they unfolded, further assured me that this man IS truly as incredible a person as I thought. He must be, for the greater forces of the universe to behave the way that they did...

I've only been to one other criterium, at the CSU oval in Fort Collins. A criterium is a fixed-time lap race where competitors try to complete as many laps as possible within a given time. This particular race was 60 minutes and the conditions were less than ideal, to make the understatement of the year. The streets were absolutely sodden; I spent ten minutes before the race start just trying to position my bike and my gear beneath a tree to keep them from getting TOO waterlogged. I have no rain gear whatsoever and Scott, thinking this thru before I even raised the issue, brought several rain coats, an umbrella and a chair for me to sit in to watch the race. Aside from being a kick-ass athlete and amazing cyclist, the man has a heart of gold, truly. At the race start Scott was five or six back from the front of the pack, and I was stoked. Before the race he told me he wanted to position himself near the front because if he did he would stay there for the race instead of having to chase. In a race where the conditions virtually guaranteed a crash, chasing is a nightmare if not impossible.

Despite the rockin' start, somewhere between the second and fourth lap something went terribly wrong and Scott got pushed to the back of the peleton. I immediately felt for him; I knew that this wasn't his plan and was certainly upsetting and frustrating him. As I tried in vain to take a decent shot of him with my new digital camera (let's put it this way: action sports photography will never be a career option for me unless the object is to be homeless within a month!), Scott pushed on lap after lap, maintaining the distance he'd been pushed back to behind the pack but gaining little ground. The slick roads made for treacherous turns and rendered chasing highly improbable at best.

At one point I began chatting with a couple who were cheering for the race leader, a leggy cyclist in a maroon-black-and-white University of Indiana kit. I learned that he was their son and, in the spirit of damp-spectator camaraderie, clapped for the kid as he rounded our corner a couple of times. I was talking to his father, who had his back to the race and was in midsentence when I, watching the race over rhis shoulder, spotted the kid go around the next corner...and then I heard "Fuck!" and a cycle crash. "Exuse me," I interrupted, after noticing that the kind never emerged from the corner, "but I think your son just bailed." The Dad took off immediately and nearly took out the peleton that was passing by at the moment. I mean, really, even if your boy's hurt, you don't jump out into the middle of a crit unless you really WANT to get run over and/or fuck up the whole race. I stood, waited, watched and cheered, and expressed sympathy when I saw Dad and Junior return, Junior bearing some nice road rash that wan't part of his original ensemble and swearing intermittently.

After the race Scott detailed the reason behind his falling back to the end of the pack. As it turned out, the leader literally shoved Scott out of position and jostled him from his spot to gain entry into the line of cycles Scott was in. Basically, he shoved my boy out of place and bullied him out of his spot. Now, in normal cycling circumstances, this is to be expected. Cyclists routinely attack...using elbows, threats, whatever. Under the conditions, however, cyclists--or should I say, smart cyclists who aren't out to take down the entire peleton--don't attack, at least not using the methods this particular asshole did. Other cyclists in the pack even yelled at the guy for it, while my buddy was pushed wayyy back out of the pack and forced to chase for the duration of the race.

Instant karma got him though...whent he kid went down on one of his last laps. While I never wish anyone any ill will, I have to say that in light of what he did to my friend, I was definitely cackling maniacally in my head and thinking, you totally deserved that, you prick.

Despite it not being his best race, Scott was elated to have me there...and I was elated to be there for him. His next race, a time trial up Boulder Canyon, proved to showcase Scott as the cyclist he is: he finished 15th on one of the most brutally hot days of the year. I didn't go this time, citing fear of heatstroke, though I did try to get a friend's car so I could go watch. I look forward to seeing Scott's races as much as possible in the future. If there's any greater motivator than having a pro cyclist as a close friend and watching him race, I don't know what it could be.

Speaking of motivators...oh, well, I think that might be subject for another post...