Thank You Very Much

Every once in a while you hear or read something that surprises the daylights out of you. In this particular case, it was more of a good surprise. One of the triathlon coaches I enjoy reading, Chuckie V, announced the fact one of his main athletes was moving on to (or was picked up by) Team TBB. For most of average readers who know little about multisport, but might know something about the Hawaii Ironman triathlon, one of TBB's athletes, Chrissie Wellington, has won the Hawaii Ironman during the past two years. Team TBB is described as a developmental squad & has one of the best coaches in the business, Brett Sutton.

I can only imagine the pride, as well as the mixture of emotions, coursing through Chuckie at this moment, as he helps Angela prepare to move on to bigger opportunities. It's not so much that Brett Sutton is a better coach, or TBB is a better team as much as it is an opportunity for Angela to be able to more closely focus on her dream; becoming a professional triathlete...becoming the best athlete she can be. And when you read Angela's blog you can tell the feeling is mutual.
Frankly, nothing more warms the cockles of my heart (whoa...dude...hearts have cockles...) than to have someone I've coached (defined as provided counsel, guidance, encouragement, and/or workouts) publicly compliment me for what I've done, & how I've been able to assist them achieve their personal athletic goal/s. Sometimes, amazingly, some even laud me to others around them.However, I have to make it clear; their personal accomplishment was achieved because of their own efforts, with a small degree of help from me. Regardless of whether I draw up a training plan, or answer a physiology question, or recommend a workout, or even provide a bit of perspective (some cases I'm the guy telling them, 'don't worry about having a bad workout/day/week/performance today; this isn't the day to focus on...'), I cannot follow the training plan, run the workout, take the action (or inaction) for them. They have to do it themself.

So, maybe I should thank them in return for following my advice & trusting me to be their coach/sports psychology technician/referral person. Since they're not making money it might be all I get. However, in many cases it leads to repeat, ongoing customers.
So, thank you, thankyouverymuch...

MB's Gumpian Moment For The Month

'They just couldn't believe that somebody would do all that running for no particular reason.' - Tom Hanks, as Forrest Gump, "Forrest Gump" (1994)

Sometimes as we head into the university track facility, a parent or walker or jogger who has seen one of our three-times-a-week workouts asks the inevitable question, 'so what are you guys training for?' At first, I flippantly told them, 'life,' and left it at that. Now I think to preface my comment with, 'this may sound a little flippant, but...' It tends to win friends and positively influence people a little more, I guess. Perhaps I'm starting to become more coach and less athlete.

I hope not; I love being an athlete. In spite of the fact I pay for my running habit; right now I get $500 worth of Snickers Marathon Bars, a singlet, a couple of technical fiber shirts, a hat and a pair of shorts per year, my goggles, glasses, shoes, bike stuff, sports drink, race entry fees and all the other stuff comes right out of my pocket. I am 90-percent certain that I like it that way. Snickers Marathon Bar asks me to race six times a year in their gear. That's not a lot of races, unless you're a marathoner. Since I'm a 10,000-meter to half-marathon specialist, who also dabbles in multisport, with a conservative training/racing schedule I can do six races a year.

However, it's a sign of weakness around this town should you decide to be conservative in your racing. Fail to show up at every little podunk, rancid possum (approximate) 5,000-meter road race and people start to talk about injuries. Since I only have to race six events a year to please my sponsor, I can be selective on what I want to do and when I need to be ready to race. And, in order to encourage my sponsor to keep me on their rolls, I choose larger regional and national-level races outside of town. Because probably 70 percent of my races are not local, people who don't know when/where I race think I do a whole hell of a lot of running for no particular reason.

I did a local 5,000-meter road race two weeks ago as an early-season fitness test. It wasn't great, but it wasn't a bad start to a season delayed by six weeks of no running whatsoever because of injury (fractured humeri heal slower when you run at the same time they're trying to heal). I managed to stay seconds ahead of a local runner who tattooed a bulls-eye on my @$$ this summer. He told me, straight to my face that his goal this fall was to beat me - why I was his goal I have no particular clue. Actually, I do; the guy is in his early 50s and focuses strictly on 5,000-meter races, which (to paraphrase Sam Mussabini, in Chariots of Fire) is "tailor-made for neurotics." He trains strictly for local events. He's become stronger since he started training with this focus. He's also wound up like a cheap freaking watch, the way I used to be before I got married.

Last weekend, I filmed my athletes at a 'relatively competitive' 5,000-meter race. The guy who has been gunning for me ran a decent race, but was beaten soundly (a minute or more) by a runner who came from New Orleans, who drinks Budweiser like it was iced water (I had a great time the next morning as we all ran an eight-mile run on the Bayou, after which he killed off three Buds.). And boy, was the guy p!$$ed.

Hello? McFly?

It's an object lesson I've provided to my athletes in the past two years, and one thing I spoke of often with my coach in the last year he worked with me:

Sometimes you have to find a new challenge; whether it's a different location, doing races outside of your home turf, a different distance (such as going from the 5,000 meters to the 10,000 meters and up...), a different discipline (from cross-country to track or road racing), or a different sport altogether...in my own case, multisport events. A change of scenery and a change of competition is almost always a good thing. It provides you the opportunity to find out where you truly stand in comparison with the rest of humanity. Oh, sure, we all can be heroes in our hometown. But there are races where I can run a personal best and be fortunate to get third in my age group, after the top-three are awarded in the masters' division. Far be it from me to get arrogant and say I think it's not fair. If there are guys out there who are my age that are training more consistently, are blessed with better genetics, and run smarter, faster races...more power to them. I want to know what they are doing in order to see how I can improve myself.

I've started to think seriously about whether I can run for no apparent reason other than the love of the sport, the visceral pleasure that comes from propelling myself up a hill or around a track. If nothing else, perhaps to pull others along to a fast time. It doesn't seem like a lot of sense in this 'I placed fourth in my age group in this 5K race; all I have to show for it is this stupid ribbon which I'll now use to wipe my @$$ and drop in the rubbish bin' society. Beer glasses break. Medals tarnish. Ribbons fade. Tattoos can be lasered off. Sometimes all we have to show for our sport is what we show up with in the first place.

Desire.

Bigger Than My Wallet Gives Me Credit For

...and since there are less triathlons here than there are running events, even the average guy has to travel farther to get beat. But we can solve this problem, given enough time and a job. This is a reprint of an earlier blog posting I had on another site. Forgive me. I'll do better next time...

I've been a runner for nearly 15 years and an athlete for nearly 10. Outside of my senior year at The University of Tampa, every expense related to running or triathlon; shoes, clothes, travel, entry fees, rehabilitation, and so forth, has come directly from my own pocket. I consider the $500-1,000 spent each year on running alone as an investment into my own well-being. However, I'd be lying if I said I never wanted to have someone else pay for my habit.

I will say I've been fortunate to be employed by the federal government in one way or another for nearly 20 years. This provides a secure income, liberal vacation and sick time, reasonably-priced health insurance (although I could complain about my dental coverage...), a 401K-like retirement plan, and - most importantly - tenure. As long as I don't break any laws or kill someone (I've fantasized about doing my boss in more than once, but we're all better now...in many ways...), show up to work in clothing other than my Speedo within a time zone of when I'm supposed to be there, I'm good to go. The new pay-for-performance system might not provide any pay raises, but I can keep the wolf away from the door.

My coach has told me (to a degree) that having someone pay for you to do what you like to do is something akin to prostitution. Mekhi Pfifer told Eminem in the movie "8 Mile" that '...free comes with a (graphic reference to sodomy).' But I still envision the fantasy about just how cool it would be to be a professional athlete, especially in the endurance sports.

Since I'm not independently wealthy I still have to pay for all the things to keep honey, hound, house and 'hoopty' happy or copacetic. That J-O-B stuff keeps otherwise driven, motivated, and (nearly) physically-talented persons from becoming professionals at whatever sport they love. In order to get better you have to train, in order to train you need time and resources, in order to get time you have to steal from other things in that small 24-hour stretch (that ideally includes sleeping) otherwise called a day, and resources, well...there I digress.

So, where do you go to find opportunities to use, as Tim Cahill wrote about the joy of adventure travel, other people's money? If you're a regular user of an on-line race registration web site, sometimes the opportunities find you, via the siren call of e-mail. In the past I've filled out on-line applications for sponsorship, to no avail. After several years of consistent, strong performances at races from the 5K to the half-marathon, I felt I was unjustly being ignored because I live far from other major metropolitan cities.

Since I began coaching this year, I got a little more aggressive in applying. I would love to have a team supported by sponsors. Another option would be to earn a sponsorship, kick @$$ and take names for a season, then tell the sponsor, '...hey, I have a team full of people like me; let's make a deal.' My decision to explore different distances, moving up to the marathon in the fall, dabbling in triathlon, plus the fact I was going to run lots of out-of-town events this year, this racing schedule had to show I wasn't just a little fish with a big name in a much bigger pond of marketing opportunity.

I was selected for the Snickers Marathon Team, who provide me with racing kit for running and expect I will go out, market and do well. Ah, here comes that sudden sodomized feeling. Since they won't let me place my club logo on their gear, I cannot represent my club at the same time.

It puts extra emphasis on my own training and desire to do well at events, since there are incentives built into the agreement. Not that I needed much incentive beforehand, but if there's a chance for money and perhaps a little recognition I can step up the energy level.