MONTEZUMA.

I cannot quite wrap my head around what has happened to me over the past week, but it has been peppered with ups and downs. All the training has been solid, but it has been coupled with wicked GI issues. I got sick to my stomache three different times within an eight day period and had to take as many full days off. Interestingly enough I had excellent training on the odd days.

Some folks around me have been getting the funk as well so perhaps Boulder county is dealing with the “summer camp shakes.” (Thats what we called the contagious funk that always circled throughout the summer camp I worked for in my teens and early twenties).

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I raced last weekend.

Seriously.

I got my arse handed to do me a bit, but I definitely went as hard as I could.

Essentially the race consisted of a mediocre swim, a decent ride and a decent run. I’m not sure why I lost so much time in the swim, but I did. I started the ride with Michael Hagen (great Master athlete for ARMY) and we surged back and forth the whole way. It was great to have someone force me to keep it pinned the entire way. I had a feeling he would/could run away from me so I kept trying to hit him on the bike over and over again.

If it did tire him, it didn’t tire him enough! I cruised the run at a good tempo and finished up a few minutes behind the overall leader. Once all the other waves came in I finished up in 15th place. 2nd-2oth were all within about 2 minutes of each other and sure would have been fun if we had all raced head to head.

Sometimes people are surprised when I don’t knock out uber fast times in short course racing. A lot of folks assume that because I can cover big miles in modest times then I must be able to race short miles in fast times.

Trust me, there are plenty of people who are that way. Just not me.

Generally, my races are going to give you a good idea of my fitness. My ability to execute longer races better than some fitter athletes might be the case from time to time, but you should not assume that I am “faster” than them.

Most Athletes, from BOPers to top Pros, show their fitness in the first three hours of an IM instead of doing it all day. That’s all.

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Faith.

Faith in what you do.

Faith in what you do when there is a lot of noise around you.

A lot of you are training right now. A lot of you are constantly being told what to do and what not to do by every chap with an email address and an opinion.

Here is an observation I shared with some friends today:

Every year (for me) is different. Sometimes I am actively trying to incorporate new training plans/ideas; while other times I know I NEED a different training plan. Some things work. Some things don’t.

I know there is a risk that what I do might not be right, but I am willing to take those risks because I have faith in the plan I create.

Each year I:

Gather a team I trust. I generate questions and appreciate their input and criticisms. I thank them for their time.

Then I commit to what I know in my heart is going to work for me.

As the noise around me grows, I quiet myself and focus on what I believe in.

Happy Monday,

-justin

12 days of heavier training are over and I’ve had enough thoughts to fill an entire notebook. Unfortunately many of those thoughts are going to cycle back into my subconscious where they are likely to rise again at hour five of a long ride (insetad of right now when I need them). Nevertheless, there did seem to be some consistency in my thinking pattern and perhaps it can be synthesized by a few quotes.

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“Its good to let everyone be strong at some point in the day.”

Gordo relayed this quote to me from Molina. It carries a lot of weight with it and it really became relevant over the last twelve days since I trained with others daily.

Training groups are highly benificial, but it rides a mighty thin line between benefit and detriment. In order to really gain the benefits each individual needs to have faith in others around him. Athletes need to allow others to take the drivers seat without constantly challenging for that spot.

Last Spring in Florida we organized a group ride of about 4-5 riders and one rule persisted from start to finish: Everyone was allowed to pull until he decided to pull off. No one could come around.

Now this will not guarantee that the pulls will be civil, but it does mean that some sort of order will remain in tact throughout the session.

So what if someone is drilling it at the front? When you roll through should you smack him back?

Personally, I think not. The best thing you can do is make your pulls short and pull off the front forcing the peppy individual to retake the lead. Let your buddy be strong and just enjoy the ride.

And don’t worry about folks who hammer in training….

“You should worry about the folks that_don’t_have anything to prove in training.”

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“I was always ok with my fitness…”

On Monday the Carolina Crew and I chatted generally about triathlon and specifically about my goals and progression.

Early in my ‘career’ I never particularly compared myself to athletes around me. Part of that had to do with the fact that there really weren’t any triathletes in College Station to speak of so benchmarks were hard to come by. I simply concentrated on making gradual gains day after day and I knew my real potential was years away. My training consistency and mental/emotional sanity were more important to me than figuring out the next sexy workout.

And honestly, I had never worked_that_”hard” at anything else in my life. I wasn’t great at lots of sports (but not bad either) and even if I had potential in some areas I never capitalized on it. So watching gradual progression in triathlon training/racing was always enough motivation to get me out the door. I didn’t need the external variables to fire me up. It came internally.

I also never took issue with my race results so long as I working my way up the field. Instead of being irritated about someone beating me I would simply think “just think where I’ll be in 5 or 10 years.” Sometimes I would meet goals or fall short of them, but I almost always improved.

And I always tell my friends (and myself) to:

“Never be disappointed with progress”…

…even if that progress falls short of the goals you set for yourself. You still improved.

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Not as long as I wanted, but enough. I need to head out to make sure the race bike is in working order for tomorrow.

And its too damn nice to sit inside on a day like this,

justin

p.s. One more thought I had the other day that I told my buddy:

“I have spent a few years in this sport and have met some solid, stand-up individuals. I guess when it comes down to it the athleticism of these indivduals is usually the least impressive aspect about them.”

24 hours of travel later and I’m back in the States. Actually, that was Wednesday and now its Saturday morning as I type this. I do not know how to appropriately and repectfully talk about an overseas trip involving the passing of my grandfather: someone I knew and loved as a grandson should. So instead of speaking about the trip I thought I would speak about the man.

It was interesting to hear the thoughts and memories from everyone that knew him. My father had written a letter to the Holmen family that listed various memories that had struck him in the time he knew Sigurd. One such statement was: “I remember Sigurd never complaining.”

Never complaining. He didn’t.

He really did not complain; and interestingly enough, this is exactly what I had independently said about him before reading my father’s note.

I cannot comment on how everyone in the world feels about folks that do not complain. This is probably because we do not really know many folks that don’t. The majority of us often retract into a self-centered existence that necessitates the constant accomodation of the world around us. Obviously it never works perfectly as such and in the end most of us find it hard not to let everyone around us know about it.

But Sigurd carried on with his life without trying to find too much pity from the world.

I also remember my mother telling me about she and he brother, Anders, eating dessert as children. My mother never knew Sigurd loved dessert until she was off in college. My mother’s family grew up with tight finances. Tight finances mean less food. When asked if he wanted any of the limited dessert, Sigurd would shy away stating that he never liked the stuff. And his children ate away, not knowing otherwise until many, many years later.

And many, many years later my mother would make sure Sigurd got all the cake and ice cream he ever wanted.

Sigurd was also a man of movement. He rode his bike_everywhere. Otherwise he walked. He learned to ski at 75. He would grip me with a hug whenever I saw him that often revealed his hidden strength. His quality of life rarely wavered for the first 85 years of life. And he always stands out in my mind as a healthy man as a result of his everyday lifestyle.

I did not fly over to SVE in any state of mourning, nor did I experience any noticeable sadness in the two weeks leading to the funeral. Yet as I stood there on the morning of May 29th I shed many tears in the hour that we said good bye. You could feel the emotions throughout the whole church that morning. No one stood by with a dry eye. That is the sign of the passing of a loved man.

Less than 24 hours later I was on a plane back to the states after spending two weeks in SVE. The trip honestly involved only a few moments of sadness. It was primarily filled with better times as my SVE and USA families enjoyed each other’s company, despite the reason for it.

And so I fall back into my life. I will be heading out to SBR continuously once again, but now I have an advantage as someone on my side is helping me from above.

Cheers from Boulder,

Justin