Great performances (on video)...

Triathlon finish (ITU)...


NYC Bike Messengers race...

...favorite athletic/motivational quotes (I'll add more)...

I think I've seen this on every other high school & college cross country shirt ever made...but it's still a good one:
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
- Robert Frost


I've seen several variations of this one, but the message is still the same:
"You can quit, and no one will care...but you will always know."
- Ironman founder, Cmdr. John Collins

Another Cmdr. John Collins gem:
On February 18, 1978 (first IM), 15 competitors, including Collins, came to the shores of Waikiki to take the Ironman challenge. Prior to racing, each received three sheets of paper listing a few rules and a course description. Handwritten on the last page was this exhortation:
“Swim 2.4 miles! Bike 112 miles! Run 26.2 miles! Brag for the rest of your life!”
- Ironman founder, Cmdr. John Collins

From John L. Parker's book, Once a runner:
"...trials of miles; miles of trials..."

First person to break 4 minutes for the mile:
"The man who can drive himself further once the effort gets painful is the man who will win."
- Sir Roger Bannister

From America's real pioneer in cycling:
"It never gets easier, you just go faster."
- Greg LeMond

"Somewhere in the world someone is training when you are not. When you race him, he will win."
- Tom Fleming's Boston Marathon Training Motto

Sounds like cross country to me:
"Most men take the straight and narrow. A few take the road less traveled. I chose to cut through the woods."
- Unknown

Amen:
"Americans have not had the same successes because of the fact that most grow up in the lap of luxury. They don't tolerate the type of pain that distance running demands. You can pass your Physical Education classes in school by walking a mile maybe twice a year. It seems that the few Americans who do make it on the international level have a tremendous drive and tolerance for discomfort. I think the main reason Africans succeed in distance running is many have to and we don't."
- Ryan Wilson

Famous University of Oregon coach (think Prefontaine), and cofounder of Nike:
"There's no such thing as bad weather, just soft people."
- Bill Bowerman

Favorite Ironman video clips (I'll add more)...

I think this one is my favorite...the narrator is the founder of Ironman, John Collins:


(2003) John and Judy Collins speak about the Ironman:


2004 Ironman Hawaii video trailer:

2005 Ironman Hawaii video trailer:


2006 Ironman Hawaii video trailer:

"...trials of miles; miles of trials..."

This is just something that has been on my mind the past few days, and have decided to throw it into this blog entry:

I've just reread my favorite running book, Once a Runner by John L. Parker, Jr. The book really does a great job portraying the experience of a distance runner in college. While reading it I felt some of the old feelings of running cross country in college...and the authors description of the different types of "runners" really is timeless. At work or socially you may have many acquaintances who "run" or "compete" in different sporting events...and attempt to find common ground related to athletics.

Unless you have competed at a certain level, and specifically in an endurance or ultra endurance sport...it's sometimes hard for people to totally understand what is REALLY involved. In Parker's book people ask the main character, Quenton Cassidy, about the "secret" behind his abilities. The secret is there is no secret..yes, he's blessed with exceptional athleticism...but it still requires more sacrifice, dedication, and pain tolerance that 99% of the population could fathom (especially in the good old US of A). There are no short cuts...it takes "...trials of miles; miles of trials..." Successful endurance athletes (especially runners, swimmers, and cyclist) know that reaching your true potential takes hours of self motivated training...usually in solitude.

I am deeply aware of this need...maybe obsession...to do the required work at near all costs. I wasn't born one of those exceptionally gifted athletes, but know that I can control my training...and hopefully out work the competition. I have some talent for endurance sports, and try to make up for what I lack through better training. During racing and hard training you have to be able to put yourself in a mental state to accept the pain required to get to that next level. Some of my cycling buddies (Jeff & Curtis) call it the "Pain Cave" or the "Hurt Box"...however you phrase it, you have to constantly remind yourself that it won't last forever...and get on with the task at hand.

I admire anyone who attempts to participate...but most admire the ones that don't do it for self promotion, "...look at me, look at me...see what I'm doing" is not impressive. I could go on forever, and not make any more sense...so I'll cut it off here.

Ok...off the "Soap Box"...

...the serendipitous tale of a hack harrier...

I work for the "Condiment" Clinic, you know the one...so, I am in Rochester, MN for a few days working on a project. To give you an idea of the winter environment...the high today is 17 degrees and it was -4 when I went to bed. To say the least, it is quite different from Florida.

Last night I finished up with work, but wasn't sure what to do next. I could go to the new workout facility and swim or run on the indoor track (10 laps to a mile)...I was also hungry, so could bag it all and go eat. I didn't sleep well the night before, so could reason that I needed the day off...besides, it gets dark here at 4:30 pm. Also, it was snowing and about 5:30 pm. But...I knew that I should do something that resembled a workout, and I needed to HTFU!

I pulled on my newly purchased semi-form fitting running pants (just like the "A" Man's), laced up my old Nike Pegasus (as I used every year in college CC), grabbed a knit hat, and slid on my heavy duty cycling jacket...then headed to the elevator. As I crept out the front door, there was a guy standing beside the hotel where I was staying. He mumbled something about being a "true jogger"...jogger! I thought, "Don't call me a jogger buddy!"...then I thought to myself, "Self, your really not much of a runner anymore...so this guy probably has it right". I yelled back something about feeling a little crazy, and he replied with, "...you got that right".

I knew there was some sort of running trail next to a creek, so I would be scouting for that route. The snowflakes floated down slowly in different directions depending on the wind. Sometimes to the left...sometimes to the right...sometimes it floated up as if to show the laws of gravity were merely an antiqueted suggestion. It was cold, but not extremely so. I felt pretty good and remembered back to fifteen years ago...running in a snowy West Virginia winter. While there, I ran many times alone in the deep snow, often in the dark of night. Those were some of my favorite runs.

Crunch, crunch, crunch...as I ran through the sidewalks filled with the fluffy white stuff which covered the thin icey layer below. There were at least two people on every block shoveling snow in the dark. It seemed strange...why didn't they wait until the snow stopped and complete this task in the morning? Maybe they were just getting a head start. Crunch, crunch, crunch...I traversed a couple more intersections with meticulous care. Running on a street or sidwalk coated with snow covered ice is a difficult task, and doing the Fosbury Flop in front of a vehicular audience didn't appeal to me.

The snow stung my eyes with each flake...at times like these I wish I had eyelashes! Sween you panzy, your in a city trying to save people from all kinds of illness and your going to whine about eyelashes...HTFU. I noticed a blurry structure at the end of one side street which resembled a bridge. Heading in that direction it became apparant that I had found the creekside trail. The snow was fresh without footprints except my own. As I ran along the slightly frozen creek it was beautiful. Was this the Randolph Country Road Runners jingle bell run? I could almost taste the ice cold beer provided by Beanders at the run's conclusion.

Crunch, crunch, crunch...plop, plop, plop...I was now ploding underneath one of the bridges that criss-cross the creek. The covered area was devoid of snow with ice at the edges, so I would proceed with caution at each intersection. On the dry pavement under the bridge, my churning steps sounded like the clap of horse hooves trotting along a concrete street. Wow, I suppose I'm not running as smoothly as the figure in my minds eye. As I pushed on, I was REALLY starting to enjoy this.

Soon I came to the end of the path, as the smallish creek dumped into a bigger creek/river. Honk, honk, honk..what is that? Peering through the darkness, I began to notice THOUSANDS of Geese floating and honking in this larger creek. I've never witnessed this many Geese in one place...ever. I hopped off the trail and headed along the river bank in this deep fresh snow. Crack, crack, crack...every step would crash through a thin layer of ice beneath the snows upper crust. I ran until there wasn't enough room to continue, and then headed back the same route attempting to retrace my footprints along the way.

My Achilles was starting to hurt, but there was no way I was going to stop now...Hmmmm...43 minutes...the "A" Man said 40 minutes counts as a run...no, I'll keep going past the point I entered the trail and see what's ahead. I was warm, and the snow wasn't stinging my eyes any longer. I ran past lamps lighting the trail to providing a soft, warm, yellow glow. Every so often there would be a small waterfall in the creek below, which would provide a break in the silence created by the sound absorbing snow. Other sites included homes which had bird houses stacked with a tall snow layer, like thick white caps for the structures abandoned by Southern bound feathery bipeds.

The trail would cross a bridge periodically, and then continue on the other side. As I ran along I would look ahead hoping the trail wouldn't end. I think I would have run all night if the trail was long enough. Finally I approached a sign that would signal the end of the unexplored part of this journey. I turned back around to retrace my steps back to the original entry onto the trail. The wind was now in my face, along with the cold swirling snow. I said to myself, "...self, this is pretty cold...but hey, you used to do runs like this barechested in shorts (Chiller Thriller)...HTFU and get on with it...".

As I was nearing the hotel I glanced at my watch...71 minutes...excellent...the "A" Man says that 70 minutes is the new base, down from the 77:49 it used to be...so this counts as a base run. This run (or jog) was incredible...a "throw back" to years and places long gone...very nostalgic.

As many of you know, I'm doing a triathlon or two next year. Maybe I'm searching for new challenges, or just a change of pace. I've wanted to do an Ironman for a while, and now feels like the time...but this will be a separate entry by itself in a later post...

Sween

...(intro) my thoughts and experiences...

...about training, racing, and life outside of the race reports that I post on the ABRT blog. This will be more like the scattered ramblings of an inept diarist...trying to express his feelings during the long journey. You hear all the time, "The journey IS the destination" and "Live for the journey not for the destination" or "It's about the journey not the destination"...is this just beatnik ballyhoo?

Anyhow, here are my thoughts...