“If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This
is the principal difference between a dog and man.”
Mark Twain
“All right man. I’ve had enough. I’m turning around.”
It was the equivalent of a slap to the face followed by an ice cold bath. It got my attention. I had blown a gasket the size of Mt. St. Helen’s on steroids with a dramatic flourish usually only seen in a pack of middle school girls. I had yelled at my coach, my mentor, and most importantly my friend. How the heck had I gotten to the point where I had bit the hand that had fed and nourished me for that last year?
It had been boiling and brewing for a week. I was a mess of emotions that would have made Sybil proud. Angry, scared, hurt, confused, tired, pissed, frustrated, disappointed, embarrassed - you name it, it was bouncing around in my noggin.
I had gone out for a ride with Jaime, Riley, and Brad. Instead of just relaxing and enjoying the ride, I found my emotions spinning out of control and with it my cadence and my speed. I could feel myself pushing harder and harder as we began climbing up Bachelor. I passed all of them and then stupidly started beating myself up by trying to hammer it harder up the hill. I’m not sure if I was trying to just push myself so hard I would pass out or just make myself hurt by beating myself to a pulp. At some point I heard Jaime come up behind and say, “Well the boys have left and headed back to town. What is wrong?”
I really had no reason to be going through this as I look back. Yes, the race at Oregon Dunes the weekend before had been a mess. However, the silver lining in that mess had been an age group win - one that got me an invite to the USA Triathlon Age Group National Championships. Later in the week I received a note from USA Triathlon that an article I had submitted to them would be published in their weekly newsletter. My son’s robotics team had a stellar weekend at their underwater robotics competition. My wife had won her age group at the Chainbreaker mountain bike race, my daughter was headed to the coast in a couple of days for a science camp and was thrilled. Life was GREAT! So why was I pissing in the frosted flakes?
The Wednesday after the Oregon Dunes was a busy day at the pool. I found a lane and asked a lady if I could share. We decided to split the lane and I started my training program. I noticed the lane next to us was busy as well with a couple of swimmers that were warming up for water polo. About halfway through my routine my lane partner was coming at me swimming butterfly while in the next lane I had a high school kid who was swimming stroke for stroke with me. My partner accidentally hit me as she passed by and I felt myself dart into the lane divider and bump into the other swimmer’s foot. All of the sudden I felt my chest tighten and my mind swim. What the heck was happening? I stopped and discovered my heart was racing and I was breathing hard. Really? Yes, the swim at Oregon Dunes had been a bit unnerving, but worthy of a PTSD or flashbacks? While I stood there calming down I could feel an unwanted guest creeping into my mind. Doubt. All of the sudden I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle a much larger and more crowded open water swim at Boise. As every possible scenario started running through my head I began getting upset at myself for letting such thoughts become an issue. The rest of the week was a mental version of Jekyll-Hyde as I kept having doubts and then beating myself up for having doubts. My dreams of completing an Ironman, much less a half- Ironman were shattering like little daggers and then finding their way into my brain.
Mark Twain
“All right man. I’ve had enough. I’m turning around.”
It was the equivalent of a slap to the face followed by an ice cold bath. It got my attention. I had blown a gasket the size of Mt. St. Helen’s on steroids with a dramatic flourish usually only seen in a pack of middle school girls. I had yelled at my coach, my mentor, and most importantly my friend. How the heck had I gotten to the point where I had bit the hand that had fed and nourished me for that last year?
It had been boiling and brewing for a week. I was a mess of emotions that would have made Sybil proud. Angry, scared, hurt, confused, tired, pissed, frustrated, disappointed, embarrassed - you name it, it was bouncing around in my noggin.
I had gone out for a ride with Jaime, Riley, and Brad. Instead of just relaxing and enjoying the ride, I found my emotions spinning out of control and with it my cadence and my speed. I could feel myself pushing harder and harder as we began climbing up Bachelor. I passed all of them and then stupidly started beating myself up by trying to hammer it harder up the hill. I’m not sure if I was trying to just push myself so hard I would pass out or just make myself hurt by beating myself to a pulp. At some point I heard Jaime come up behind and say, “Well the boys have left and headed back to town. What is wrong?”
I really had no reason to be going through this as I look back. Yes, the race at Oregon Dunes the weekend before had been a mess. However, the silver lining in that mess had been an age group win - one that got me an invite to the USA Triathlon Age Group National Championships. Later in the week I received a note from USA Triathlon that an article I had submitted to them would be published in their weekly newsletter. My son’s robotics team had a stellar weekend at their underwater robotics competition. My wife had won her age group at the Chainbreaker mountain bike race, my daughter was headed to the coast in a couple of days for a science camp and was thrilled. Life was GREAT! So why was I pissing in the frosted flakes?
The Wednesday after the Oregon Dunes was a busy day at the pool. I found a lane and asked a lady if I could share. We decided to split the lane and I started my training program. I noticed the lane next to us was busy as well with a couple of swimmers that were warming up for water polo. About halfway through my routine my lane partner was coming at me swimming butterfly while in the next lane I had a high school kid who was swimming stroke for stroke with me. My partner accidentally hit me as she passed by and I felt myself dart into the lane divider and bump into the other swimmer’s foot. All of the sudden I felt my chest tighten and my mind swim. What the heck was happening? I stopped and discovered my heart was racing and I was breathing hard. Really? Yes, the swim at Oregon Dunes had been a bit unnerving, but worthy of a PTSD or flashbacks? While I stood there calming down I could feel an unwanted guest creeping into my mind. Doubt. All of the sudden I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle a much larger and more crowded open water swim at Boise. As every possible scenario started running through my head I began getting upset at myself for letting such thoughts become an issue. The rest of the week was a mental version of Jekyll-Hyde as I kept having doubts and then beating myself up for having doubts. My dreams of completing an Ironman, much less a half- Ironman were shattering like little daggers and then finding their way into my brain.
Jaime had every right to push me off the ledge I was teetering on, and he might
have felt like simply pushing me over on my bike. Thankfully his threat to turn
around and head home was the message I needed in order to come off the
ledge. I snapped out of my myopic rant and realized very quickly just what a
royal douche bag I’d been. We turned around rode down the mountain and
along the way picked up the pieces of my training, my racing, my life, my dreams,
and our friendship. We rode into town weaving through the streets and talked about what was going on and what I needed to do in order to come to terms with
everything. He provided insight and wisdom but also gave me a gentle kick in
the ass. We parted but beforehand I once again apologized and sincerely asked
for forgiveness.
That night I sat down and took stock of the situation. I wasn’t going to set the world on fire as a triathlete, and for all intense purposes I was always going to be pushing myself against a younger and stronger group of athletes. I was reminded of the Serenity Prayer - grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time;
During the weeks leading up to the race at Oregon Dunes I had been consumed with the thought of trying to do my best. Wanting to beat certain times. Wanting to prove people wrong. The old word for tuberculosis was consumption. It was an appropriate word for the situation. Generally, the afflicted person would eventually become consumed by the disease, and eventually died. I realized that I would need to change a lot of things or I too would become consumed to the point where I would kill off some important relationships.
At the end of each school year I write out narratives on my students. They provide an overview of how a child is doing and is our school’s answer to report cards. They are time consuming but they are also worthwhile. Often I find myself writing down that I hope a child will dig deep into their heart, determine who they are, live their own defined journey, and not compare themselves to others. I realized that was exactly what I needed to do for myself. Determine what I wanted to be as a triathlete, define and determine my own journey, and stop trying to compare myself to the others around me in terms of times, training, and ability. I let go of a lot of anger. I let go of a lot of perceived slights. I took a lot of deep breaths, and I also told myself that I just needed to relax. I turned over a new leaf the size of one of the elephant ears that grow along the bayou in the town where my wife was born.
That night I sat down and took stock of the situation. I wasn’t going to set the world on fire as a triathlete, and for all intense purposes I was always going to be pushing myself against a younger and stronger group of athletes. I was reminded of the Serenity Prayer - grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time;
During the weeks leading up to the race at Oregon Dunes I had been consumed with the thought of trying to do my best. Wanting to beat certain times. Wanting to prove people wrong. The old word for tuberculosis was consumption. It was an appropriate word for the situation. Generally, the afflicted person would eventually become consumed by the disease, and eventually died. I realized that I would need to change a lot of things or I too would become consumed to the point where I would kill off some important relationships.
At the end of each school year I write out narratives on my students. They provide an overview of how a child is doing and is our school’s answer to report cards. They are time consuming but they are also worthwhile. Often I find myself writing down that I hope a child will dig deep into their heart, determine who they are, live their own defined journey, and not compare themselves to others. I realized that was exactly what I needed to do for myself. Determine what I wanted to be as a triathlete, define and determine my own journey, and stop trying to compare myself to the others around me in terms of times, training, and ability. I let go of a lot of anger. I let go of a lot of perceived slights. I took a lot of deep breaths, and I also told myself that I just needed to relax. I turned over a new leaf the size of one of the elephant ears that grow along the bayou in the town where my wife was born.
As embarrassed as I was for the blow up, I related to Jaime (after again
expressing how mortified I was over my behavior) that it was probably what
needed to happen. I needed to have the melt down and then reassemble the
pieces in a better and more appropriate form. I went to Boise relaxed. I spent a
lot of time almost meditating – simply trying to live one day at a time and be in
and enjoy the moment. Yes, I was a bit nervous, but relaxed. I ended up having
a great race. I have a race this weekend in Bozeman. I’ve been coming off a
sinus infection. It’s not exactly how I’d like to approach a race, but it is what it is.
I will find time for more meditating, more relaxation, more living in the moment,
and spend a little bit of time taking stock of the situation. I’m ready to give it my
best shot but I also want to make sure that I have fun. Accept the things I cannot
change, courage to make those changes that I can, and then know the difference
in the two.
Today I had lunch with Jaime to celebrate his upcoming birthday. As we talked about things he related that at one time about ten years he felt like he had to win every race and became consumed in the training to the point where it was, in his words, making him a raving lunatic. He too had a similar blow up and his wife provided a version of the cold water slap to the face similar to the one he had given me a month ago. He realized he needed to take stock of the situation and make some changes. I’m thankful for the changes he made and I’m thankful he was willing to let me know in no uncertain terms that I needed to do likewise.
Today I had lunch with Jaime to celebrate his upcoming birthday. As we talked about things he related that at one time about ten years he felt like he had to win every race and became consumed in the training to the point where it was, in his words, making him a raving lunatic. He too had a similar blow up and his wife provided a version of the cold water slap to the face similar to the one he had given me a month ago. He realized he needed to take stock of the situation and make some changes. I’m thankful for the changes he made and I’m thankful he was willing to let me know in no uncertain terms that I needed to do likewise.
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