Resolution Versus Resolve

res-o-lu-tion -n. - 1. a formal expression of opinion or intention made, usually after voting, by a formal organization, a legislature, a club, or other group. 2. a resolve or determination: to make a firm resolution to do something. 3. the act of resolving or determining upon an action or course of action, method, procedure, etc. 4. the mental state or quality of being resolved or resolute; firmness of purpose.
Naturally, with the passing of the old Gregorian calendar year & the start of the new one comes a well-worn & often useless activity. More often than not this activity consists of two steps: Whine like a seven-year-old school girl about the failure, shortcoming, or character flaw which boiled to the surface in the past year. Make some cockamamie - & often unattainable - promise to transform failure into success, shortcoming into strength, & character flaw into character-reinforcing trait...oh, & all within the scope of the next 365 days.

After hearing too many of my old contemporaries go through this song-and-dance I resolved to do two things in years past: Rather than make any resolutions at the new year, I would engage in continuous improvement. When confronted by a person making a resolution without a reasonable goal...or a plan of action to reach it...I would challenge them to either develop & execute a realistic plan to achieve a reasonable goal or call them on their obvious lack of seriousness.

It makes me a little unpopular at holiday parties & races, to say the least.

My wife & I were sitting in a dining establishment on the beach the other day, talking about what we would like to achieve in the new year. She spent the previous Friday evening socializing with her closest friend, celebrating one of those milestone birthdays, & had partaken of a little more of the fermented, grain-derived beverages than she would have preferred...at least when seen in the light of the "elephantine" feeling she had during her Sunday morning long run. When your Friday evening beer intake slows you down all the way to midday Sunday, I guess you could say that is enough beer.

I'm not going to get all self-righteous here & say I don't like beer. In fact, I love beer. I'm in firm agreement with Benjamin Franklin and the Warsteiner brewery: Beer is proof that God loves us & wants us to be happy. Oh, and, life is too short to drink cheap beer.

My coach's coach, Bob Schul, never liked his athletes drinking beer. Bob was of the opinion beer made for slower running; of course, when you're a slow runner in the first place, what's the big deal? But as I've read more medical-based research in the past year, in running, triathlon & swimming magazines, it has finally sunk in through my thick skull that beer might be proof of the Almighty's compassion toward humanity, but can do a number on a human being's recovery from workouts. Who knew alcohol could slow the production of human growth hormone & delay workout recovery? And when you get to be my age, approaching a milestone birthday faster than I care to admit, recovery takes just a little longer.

But you're not going to see me do a complete & utter cut-back to no beer whatsoever. Ben Franklin might not have been into running, cycling or swimming fast, but he knew a good deal about human nature. Face it...life is short & we are dead a long time. So, if there's going to be beer passing my lips, it will pass my lips less often, & it will be of higher quality.

So for me, while 2009 was a year of trial & error, 2010 is more likely going to be a year of returning a little closer to the tried & true. Longer, easier stuff on the easy days; shorter, intense stuff on the hard days. Recovery as often as practicable. Cross-training as often as possible. And fun as often as I can get away with it. Because...if it isn't fun, then why the hell am I doing it?

...Months Which End In "R"

Steven and Beverly arrived yesterday afternoon and checked in to their condo...which is way down along the run course. For pre-athlete meeting dinner, we all decided to meet at a local oyster bar. I'm happy to say the oysters were delicious, even though I had only three...maybe four.

Naturally, there was nothing new in the athlete meeting a seasoned triathlete probably doesn't know...drafting rules, penalty tent locations, warnings against littering and public...well, let's just say I won't be trying to make a new meaning out of the old phrase void where prohibited by law. Good stuff to hear, if nothing else, to remind you what you're really here for.

Suzanne and I went for a very easy jog the other morning on the front three miles of the run course, which weaves (now there's an apt description!) through the rows of condos and through the residential neighborhoods along Front Beach. That sense of deja vu, all over again. The IM FL run does the Gulf Coast Half course twice, how nice. Of course, without about 10-to-15 degrees of excess temperature as compared to May.

Roch (Frey) and Heather (Fuhr) sighting on the road which goes northeast (the other side) of Signal Hill Golf Course. I kind of smiled and waved...and they did back...after which I told Suzanne, 'Roch and Heather...' Yeah, like she's going to know who the heck those folks were. Of course she would...she reads my magazines. She knows the guys in the goofy costumes.

But you still have to do the miles, no matter how nice the weather is.

Hating Goodbyes

Dinner last night at a Thai restaurant with Christian and Petra, our German friends. Normally we would hold off on dinner and do the New Yorker Deli on Friday evening, but they're now temporarily billeted in the Officers' Quarters on NAS.

The bad news is there's no kitchen.

The good news is there are no dishes.

So, we ended up talking triathlon and training over dinner, trading notes and looking forward to future events. For them it's Ironman Germany in Frankfurt. For me, it's probably going to be either a sprint triathlon or a couple of long races in the autumn. It depends on the work schedule and how busy we are at Chez' Bowen.

Since they're doing IM.de, we'll be able to keep track of them courtesy of IronmanLive. Christian comes back to finish his tour, then goes back to .de. I have the sneaking suspicion they'll remain close (enough) to us in the coming years. I certainly hope so, for a number of good reasons. A life always benefits from diversity:

The more closely your companions and confidants resemble you, the less likely you are to stretch your horizons or consider differing viewpoints. Without the encouragement (or would that be a dare?) of Christian and Petra, I never would have considered doing a half-iron distance triathlon. No, I would not have run the numbers and considered a half-iron triathlon (or a full Ironman triathlon, for that matter!) as an achievable goal.

Christian and Petra also saved me from tuning in to the BBC to get a diverse take on the news; we could always ask what Deutsche Welle, ARD, ZDF, or BRW were saying about American policies and politics. We were able to clue them in on some of the incomprehensibilities of the American political system, usually with much eye-rolling and humor.

Race, religion, culture, sports icons..."third-rail" topics were always fair game, because we knew we could speak in honesty, truth and candor to each other. And for that we have been grateful these past couple of years.

I hate goodbyes. I do poorly with them. Doesn't matter how much you promise to drop an e-mail to each other monthly, or pick up the cell phone (especially if they're on your network!) to stay in touch, it seems small orbits become large ones; large ones become like the orbit of comets that show once every 75 years. Of course, there's Web 2.0 and Skype and all those other things, but it isn't the same as killing three (four? five? I don't recall...) mini-kegs of Heineken on a Saturday, then going out into the front yard to watch the International Space Station whiz by.

Some people bring joy by their arrival, others by their departure. As for Christian and Petra, it's been a joy to be in their presence. Every time I see a triathlete walking a flat-tired bike on a training run I hear the "don't ever go out on a training ride, no matter how short, without a flat kit" lecture.

We will see you soon, my friends. Until then, I'll do my best to hold the tears.