The ride went extremely well and I was finally able to realize some of the power gains I have been making as this was my first power session where I was allowed to exceed Z1. Happy with the results of the ride, I threw on some running gear and went to put my Garmin outside while I put on my shoes. Immedaitely upon opening the door, I saw it was thundering, lightening, and absolutely pouring rain; a realization I had missed over my blaring music in my basement. At that moment, I knew there were three directions this workout could go.
Seeing that it was already past 9:00pm, I could have easily jumped in the shower and climbed in bed at a decent hour. If you know anything about me and my level of commitment to this racing season, skipping the run was never anything more than merely a fantasy that would never come to fruition, leaving me with two options based purely on the attitude I chose to carry through the run. I could have felt sorry for myself, trudged through the slop, and had a purely miserable time. Instead, I threw on some old running shoes, a rain jacket, and a headlamp and bounded outside, allowing myself to open up to the top of Z2 in my first mile.
If you read my most recent post, Base Phase Finally Completed, you might expect me to dissect my performance in this run and report on some substantial breakthrough I had regarding heart rate or mile pace. Take a look at the Garmin file, you won't find anything spectacular happening performance wise.
Did I have great splits?
I was happy to open up my stride a little bit and have a decent mile but I have certainly run much faster off the bike. It was nice to see my HR in check off of a hard bike workout for the first time this season. Otherwise, that first mile had a nice downhill section and the rest of the run at Z1 was unimpressive.
Did the weather play a role in my enjoyment?
Remember that it was 45 degrees, pouring rain (0.53 in), wind gusts up to 38 mph, and 9:xx pm on a weeknight. When I finished the run, I couldn't have been more drenched had I jumped in the pool. My shoes weighed 5lbs each, my hands were very cold, and I could have itched a whole through my skin from the road chemicals coating my body. The weather had nothing more to do with the workout than the opportunity it afforded me to think about simpler things in life like splashing through puddles as a child.
Was the route special?
In no way, shape, or form was this route anything special. It consisted of 9 turns which followed a somewhat rectangular route, commencing exactly where it terminated, on roads I traverse daily. That is all.
What was it that inspired a blog entry the day after the last entry?
I have always used exercise as a stress relief tool. Nothing clears my mind like being alone with the road and my thoughts. The greatest part about this time I cherish so much is that often times, solutions to problems jump into my mind without consciously weighing in on them. I cannot tell you how many times the solution to a math problem set appeared to me while on a run. It became a tempo run to get home and record my thoughts before they escaped me. As a matter of fact, I wrote the majority of this post in my head while I was on the road last night.
The past year of my life has been a pivotal one to say the least. I have finished my graduate studies, I am pursuing a career as a teacher most likely far South of New York and I have lost one of my closest friends during what was supposed to be one of the greatest experiences of my life. In September of 2011, I tapered for Ironman Syracuse 70.3 and snagged a qualifying slot for the Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Las Vegas. Weeks before the race, my varsity swimming coach was in an accident which eventually claimed his life. I sat poolside in Vegas, balling my eyes out on the phone with my friends and family after hearing the news that his condition was worsening and that we were probably going to lose him. Being so far from home feeling selfish for being on this wonderful trip made me feel guilty and selfish for going to the race under the circumstances back home. Two days before the race, I was crushed and could care less about the race or my performance. I have to throw a big thank you out to my friends and family for reminding me of something that I knew in the back of my mind the entire time.
I started this journey with Coach at the Musselman Half-Iron triathlon in Geneva. We were both competing in our first half, scared out of our minds as we had never attempted anything so crazy. We trained together and discussed strategies for completing the race successfully. Eerily enough, although we were nowhere near each other on the bike course, our bike splits were only separated by 7 seconds. I like to think that we rode together, just in separate locations, an idea that I hold on to and use as a coping mechanism. That year, it poured in Musselman and I thought it was only fitting that it was pouring as I mulled these things over in my head on the run last night.
My friends and family reminded me that Coach raced triathlon and shared the sport with me because it was one of the many thing she truly loved. Talking to his family, his love for the sport is apparent in the stories of the crazy hours he would wake up to fit training in to his busy schedule. I thought back to all the times he would shift around his schedule just so we could get out for an hour on the bike and enjoy the nice day, chatting about anything that came across our minds.
After a few phone calls, I decided that I had to be in Vegas, I had to go through with this race, and I needed to do it with a purpose. Coach would want me to have this experience and he would love to hear all about the results no matter how the race went for me.
Turns out I had a terrible race but I felt Coach with me through the hilly bike course, and 114 degree run course. I didn't want to be out there, I didn't want to suffer in the heat, and I certainly didn't want to drag myself through another run loop but Coach kept me going. I finished the race for Coach and all those who are not fortunate enough to be able to participate in this wonderful sport.
Fast forward a few months, and I find myself in the middle of a very focused build to Ironman Mont-Tremblant. My hectic schedule has left my days packed from the moment I wake up past the time I'd like to go to bed. I am coaching, teaching, and adding roughly 20 hours of training into the grind. I rarely have time to see my friends as my weekends involve 8+ hours of workouts and even more planning and equipment upkeep hours.
This level of commitment does not go unnoticed and I have been asked the same simple question incessantly:
Why are you doing this?
I knew triathlon was something important to me and that the goals I have set are meaningful. I knew physical fitness was important to me and that racing is a passion I share with a lot of great friends. I also knew that training and racing was something I used to love to share with Coach and my other friends. Nothing is more memorable than a road trip to some ridiculous test of human endurance and sharing stories the whole way back. When you share these experiences with people, you get a better understanding for who they are, seeing them at their rawest form, and appreciate the struggles they have overcome.
Last night, on my run, my answer to the question, why do I race?, came flowing to me like the water I was slopping through on the side of the road.
I race for Coach. I race because it is what Coach loved to do. I race and coach racing to carry on Coach's legacy. I race to remember the times we have shared and the person he has helped mold me into. I race because I enjoy the thrill of competition. Most importantly, I race to enjoy the fact that I am able to while there are many people who are unable. I remind myself why I race every day as I carry around my favorite picture of Coach and me. I keep a picture of Coach in my bike box, I carry him around on my clipboard, I have him in a frame on my desk,and my bike is the loudest green I have ever seen in my life to support Grant's Gang. If I ever doubt why I am running through the rain or bundling up to go out for a ride when it's snowing, a reminder of my reasons for getting out there is never far away.
To me, triathlon is much more than pushing your body to the limit and suffering through misery. It's creating goals for yourself and developing a healthy lifestyle to help achieve those goals. It's learning how to become comfortable dealing with uncomfortable situations and coming out the other side a stronger, wiser person. Triathlon teaches me that situations can be experienced a number of different ways Triathlon provides a temporary escape from the problems in my life and acts as a tool to help devise a solution to those problems. Triathlon acts as a facilitator to meet great people who share my passion. Triathlon makes me a saner, more levelheaded person.
I have big goals for the 2013 season, which I will keep to myself. More-so than any season before, these goals are not lofty ideas that I hope to be able to accomplish at some point without an idea how to bridge the gap from my current self to my ideal self. My goals this season were developed from past results, are verified by my training, and have become my expectation. Anything less is unacceptable as I know these are things I can accomplish this season.
At the end of the day, I can hang my hat on the idea that, chances are, none of my competitors were willing to go outside in a thunderstorm, in the pouring 45 degree rain, until 9:40pm to finish up a simple 0:35 run off the bike. This is the type of dedication I have assumed. When it comes time to drop the hammer with an hour left in Ironman Mont-Tremblant I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I have put in the work and I am capable of bringing it home hard. Even more comforting is knowing that Coach will be with me the entire way, protecting me and carrying me through any misfortunes that find me. It breaks my heart knowing he will not be there to greet me at the finish line or help me sort out what happened on the course. I will have to accept the fact that he will be with me every step of the way in spirit, just as he was in Vegas.
In the words of this wonderful role model, coach, mentor, and friend:
"Let's get after it, Danny!"
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| Minutes after crossing the finish line at IMLP 2011, Coach's was the first familiar face I saw. As always, sporting his infectious smile. |
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