Category Archives: June ’09

June '09

Story of nothing

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I have only acknowledged the existence of my blog in writing once. I did not write a cliche first blog announcing to the world what my intentions are. Instead, I wrote about what happened that day. And from then on, I continued to write about exactly what inspired me to transform my feelings into words. But tonight I will share feelings I had in the past.

I’m not big on making my future-self guess what I was thinking when I reread an entry. I like to mimic exactly what I feel or think with words rather than writing some vague combination of words to be interpreted however a reader may like. Of course I try to leave in some sort of imagination, but I want to be able to look back and know exactly how I felt when I wrote it. With that said, here is a poem I wrote. I hate poetry, but I like this poem. I know exactly what I felt when I wrote it but it is up to interpretation.

Story of Nothing

I love it because it’s soft and hugs me back.

I love it because it’s a seven layer dip.

I love it because it makes me laugh through hell.

I love it because it stands it ground when attacked, and runs free when unthreatened.

I love it because when you pull it, it snaps, and when you hit it, it bangs.

I love it because the sun setting makes my spirit rise.

I love it because it showed me how to love.

I love it because it is not that new car.

I love it for those who do not know how to love.

I love it because it prays to a god it does not know exists.

I love it because it is reformed.

I love it because it is never the same two days in a row.

I love it because it is only occasionally sugar-coated.

I love it because there is no such thing as optimism, and no such thing as charity.

I love it because it swivels about my neck and hangs over my head.

I love it because it chooses chocolate and vanilla.

I love it because when I am in love, I would not trade it for anything.

I love it because even after it dies, it still smiles at me.

I love it because when it hurts so bad, I cry and cry.

I love it because it wiggles when I tickle it and kicks when I scratch it.

I love it because I know I can make your day.

I love it because it is salt and pepper.

I love it because it stays blank no matter how dirty it becomes,

because it stays dry no matter how  wet, and

remains 5’2” no matter how much it grows.

And I love it because it will grow.

I love it because if you make fun of it, it laughs.

I love it because if you hold your fingers a certain way, it shoots web.

I love it because when it scratches my back lightly in the right spot, my spine tingles.

I love it because you can see it in the dark, and not in the light.

I love it because I hate everything else.

I love it because it loves me.

June '09

At peace

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I got to go surfing on Friday. The waves were pathetic but I managed to have a great time. I looked at my roasted back in the mirror, questioning how my eight layers of sunscreen did not protect me, and decided it was so worth it. During the great morning set of waves, my rusty ability led me to nose dives and wipe outs. But I had one great ride and that was enough to get me excited.

I’m taking the weekend off from racing and returning to the beach for the whole weekend.

sunset over 64

I went to go hang out with my coach Michael tonight. On the way I shared viewing of an absolutely beautiful sunset with other commuters. The song “Your Woman” by White Town came on as I drove. I thought it was a pretty cool song.

sunset over 64

I learned a lot about tents and stoves at blue ridge outfitters today. It looks like I am actually going to do this. Only around 500 people have thru hiked the Appalachian trail North to South and if all goes well I will be one of only a handful to complete the trail during the winter. I don’t have a death wish but I do want to be humbled. It’ll be such an awesome adventure. I want to be as prepared as possible which will still leave me with a lot of learning and adventure. It should be exciting. I’ve got three books to read right now though.

June '09

Today, champion is just a title

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On the patio, away from the sight of others, my mom comforted me. I didn’t race poorly. I had won my age group and the title of Junior Mid-Atlantic Regional Champion. What upset me was that I didn’t have fun, I didn’t want to be there, and it hurt way more than it should have. I had suffered for the last hour and twenty minutes and after I crossed the finish line, I cracked. I had pushed my body to its limits physically, but more importantly, I was not emotionally capable of handling five races in one week.

Two days ago I laid in my bed with thoughts of pain and suffering swarming me. I wanted to be free of it all. I wanted to take the weekend off from racing. Racing is like burning a fuse and mine was merely a nub before the race even began. My attitude is usually that pain is life and should be embraced but the middle road is looking really enticing right now.

By the start of the bike, the lactic acid burning my thighs uncovered my negativity from the lies of optimism surrounding it. Towards the end of the ride, a typically unthinkable thought swarmed me. I wanted to drop out and return home to comfort and peace. But the shame of quitting still outweighed the overwhelming agony.

I raced on and still fourteen hours later, comfort has not returned to me. I have napped. I have eaten ice cream and pizza and let carbonation of soft drinks settle my stomach. I have bathed, watched movies, and wrapped my withered body in cozy blankets. But none of this has brought a feeling of comfort to me. My fuse burned its way all the way to an explosion of sadness, and I am still trying to return the flavor to my life.

I am ready to train hard but another race lies a ways in the distance. That is comforting but not quite enough to restore my usual full throttle drive. Maybe I need a hug.

At this point I wish I had not raced and I am not sure if it was macroscopically beneficial for me to have stuck it out today. I am now the junior regional champion but what good does that do if the champ did not have fun?

Sometimes I pump up my old basketball, move the cars out of the driveway, and goof around on the court or I go to the local public golf course and lose a few balls. And sometimes I head to a baseball field with a bucket of balls and a bat. I feel at peace when I do those things. There is no pressure and I can just mess around for however much time I want to. The other day I made eighteen out of twenty free throws.  I practiced none but there was no pressure. I just goofed around and ended up impressing myself.

Maybe if I raced with no pressure then I could do the equivalent of my free throw shooting. If I just relaxed and had no expectations maybe I could exceed my high goals. I’ll save that idea for next time. Today I try to restore the damage done from last time. What is being a champion without the feeling to match it?

June '09

The sacrifice for the sport

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It looks like I have a place on the Duathlon age group World Championship team if I want to accept. The problem with that though is I would be setting out on the trail yet another month later. That would run my expedition into one of the coldest months of the year. I probably have to decide by tomorrow.

This is becoming the hardest part to racing. First off I have to plan out a season that is up to eight months long and secondly I have to work my life around that. Whatever gets in the way typically gets booted. I know I have potential but I have potential to go insane if I keep this up. So, I want to hike the trail, but I could do really well at worlds. Which do I give up? What I am looking at is what will provide the greatest long term effect. If I skip out on the late season races and hike the AT, will I lose results that could have propelled me to a low level sponsorship? If I skip out on the AT, will I lose interest in the sport and race poorly next year?

I have bags under my eyes from training stress. I want to hike the AT. I can go to the World Championships next year.

June '09

No man is ever alone

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I hung out with high school friends for the first time in too long to remember. Most of them I hadn’t seen in months and some since graduation. It felt good to come back to earth. I enjoyed having my friends’ company and I realized I did miss what I had been ignoring. I have not been living in a hole but for the most part I am in solitude. I train in the mornings, then I go home to a four bedroom empty house. My dad is in Florida and my mom in Virginia Beach. My sister is in North Carolina and I have no idea where my brother is. Sometimes I get calls from friends but typically racing gets in the way of hanging out.

I guess some people think I dropped off the earth. After having no privacy and no solitude all year, I am sort of enjoying the feeling of loneliness. I guess it makes human interaction that much better. In the movie Into the Wild, Chris McCandless responds to his friend, “I will miss you too, but you are wrong if you think that the joy of life comes principally from the joy of human relationships. God’s place is all around us, it is in everything and in anything we can experience.” I guess that is how I feel. I don’t necessarily feel alone because I am surrounded by a beautiful world and the feeling of something greater. I’m not trippin or anything. I just mean its hard to look around and observe life and things without being amazed and overwhelmed.

June '09

Mid-Season Recap

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With a second place finish at Power sprint triathlon, I proved to myself that my fitness had returned after a few pathetic early season races.

At my first race of the season, I absolutely cracked and walked most of the run. Over the winter I was taking a medicine to help me sleep that, along with Virginia Tech’s second best in the nation dining hall food, propelled me to 160 lbs. My racing weight is around 135, so I was a little chunky. In addition to the added weight, my training had taken a huge strike from my lack of excitement to train in the bitter cold. Thankfully I had time to improve my swimming in the warmth of the fitness center though.

By my second race of the season I was dropping in weight at a pound a day and my fitness was returning at a steady pace.

The rest gave my body time to adapt to four years of rigorous training though and while my fitness did completely disappear over the off-season, it seems it has come back stronger than ever. My lactate threshold rose about ten beats per minute on the bike and run. In addition to statistical improvement, I am steadily increasing compared to my reference point of Michael Harlow.

In 2006, I signed up for my first triathlon, Angel’s Race in Lynchburg, Virginia. I looked up the previous year’s results and saw a guy named Michael Harlow had won. So I set my goal high. I wanted to win my first triathlon ever. Even with preparation help from a great triathlete in the area, Suzanne Lewis, I was still a beginner triathlete. I came in twelfth and won my age group. My goal never lowered though and it remains the same: beat Michael Harlow.

My teammate, Ryan Peterson, beat him earlier in the season. With the upcoming I love the Tavern triathlon in Richmond, I will get another shot to race the man I have been chasing for years. Ryan will also be racing. My other teammate, Alex Burton, has got legs that could run us all down, but he needs to shape up in transition if that’ll happen. Michael and Ryan will swim in the lead, most likely coming out together somewhere in the top ten. Alex and I will most likely be near each other somewhere one to two minutes back on the other two after the half mile swim.

My chase will begin right out of the water when, legs providing, I reel the two in on the bike. In addition to looking up the road, I will also attempt to enlarge the gap between me and the sub-17 minute 5k runner, Alex. I will look to catch the two up the road, and make it a run race between the three of us. On his two feet, Alex’s chase will begin. Ryan, Michael, and I will all fear the loud thumping of Alex’s feet come up behind us. A short out and back stretch on part of he run course will give us a chance to see each other’s position and at that point the race will be run on pure guts. The I love the Tavern tri is sure to show who is the fastest from the Endorphin Fitness “Super Speedy team”.

Tomorrow night marks the beginning of a three day cycling event, The Kazane Working Man’s Classic. With a merchandise or cash prime on every lap, this race has attracted some of the top east coast cyclists. Racing is at 6pm at Bryan Park Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday and I will attempt to rack up enough points for a category upgrade.

We’ll see.

June '09

Cheese filled pasta!

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Whoever invented tortellini was a genius. I swear I would give the guy a big bear hug if I ever met him. That’s a weird expression. If I ever saw a bear I’d book it and the last thing I would think of is hugging the darn thing. Well, getting back to where I was, cheese filled pasta, what a brilliant idea. I mean, who wants to eat pasta with cheese on top? Cheese inside is the way to do it.

I acquired some nice new tan lines today. Following in my tradition of wearing dress socks to cycling races, I not only got the jersey and shorts tan line, but my sock tan line is about halfway up my calf. Sexy, I know.

I also acquired some points toward a cycling category upgrade. I also got fifteen dollars for dinner money. In a race of fifty, I placed fourth to get that quantity of money. I’m not complaining, I didn’t expect to get any. But I am confused about something. There were five women in one race, and not only did every finisher win money, but last place won twenty-five dollars. Okay so I’m a little bitter. If I add up the totals of my $56.00 paycheck from a low deal sponsor two years ago, and my assorted prize winnings, my wage is about ten cents an hour. I work hard too. I work really hard. I’m gonna be a wealthy man if I keep this up.

I miss going to the beach. I have been racing or training hard every weekend since I got home and I really just want to go to the beach for a couple days with no bike, no running shoes, and no stress. Don’t get me wrong my life’s pretty awesome right now. I paint windows, I keep the yard clean, I train, I eat, sleep, and write on this blog and thats about it. By no stress I mean the vibe that comes when one goes to the beach. I miss sitting on my surf board and if there are waves, thats great, but if not, thats great too.

I guess surfing’s a lot like fishing. I love sitting on the dock with a line in the water, and not really caring if my bait has been nibbled off or not. Looking out over the water, hearing the splash of small waves hitting the rocks below the dock, that is the essence of stress free. Sitting out on the waves, bobbing up and down as the swells roll under me, not really caring if that indefinable “perfect” wave ever comes, that is the essence of stress free.

Last year my cousin and I set out before sunrise to ride the day’s set of waves. When we crested the dune to the beach, we looked out of the giant swells with mist spraying off the caps and felt like we were getting an early glimpse into heaven. We toed the water and while it was a little chilly, our adrenaline was pumping hard enough to keep us warm. We pushed through the waves with all our strength and soon we were sitting past the break on our boards, looking at the pastel sky overwhelming enough to make even the most stubborn atheists question their opinion. The water was glass smooth and the waves were clean and powerful. This combination of strength and grace is rare on the east coast and my cousin and I were all alone on the surf to witness it. Later in the day we lost dominance over our surfing spot. But for that morning we only had to share the peace with the beauty surrounding it.

Its coming close to my bed time. Goodnight.

June '09

Change of plans

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Looks like plans have changed.

I may be hiking the Appalachian trail this year rather than next. I may be leaving in early September or late August rather than March. If that is the plan I will hike it North to South. If I set out of August 27th, the earliest I can leave, I will hike attempt to hike the 2000 mile stretch before the new year.  Another option is to hike as far as I can until it is absolutely miserable, then section hike the rest.

The reason I would do this is to not miss next year’s triathlon and cycling seasons. I am swimming, biking, and running faster than ever before and I may not want to miss next year’s season.

A few setbacks are keeping me between the two options. The first is the cold. It is going to be absolutely freezing by the end of my journey. And not only will that makes days of the trip miserable, but it will require me to wear pounds more of gear.

Secondly I would be missing Duathlon World Championships in North Carolina this year. I would also miss the late season triathlons. Also, I would most likely not hit my goal finish date and I will probably spend Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Year’s day without a human companion.

I would also not have any company on the trail. Most thru hikers would be finishing up in Maine when I am setting off from their destination. I would pass them going the opposite direction on the trail. I would spend most nights alone in shelters or even if I was with a companion, I would most likely say goodbye in the morning rather than having a hiking partner. Much of my trip would be spent with no sight of another human.

I have absolutely no idea how I will react to such solitude and harsh conditions. I have no idea what to expect to get from this adventure and I have no idea if my body and mind will hold up to the stress but it’s worth the test. We’ll see.

June '09

Impatience, All you did was bring the end closer

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High school cross country and track athletes run themselves into the ground because all they see is the end to their career in four years. Beyond that, most of them will never race again. I did the same. I ran until I could not physically run anymore but my perspective was even more stunted. I would look season to season. So I had three months to get into great shape and attempt to become one of the fastest runners on my team.

I would either lose motivation or get injured and sometimes both. At least when I became injured I was not able or allowed to run. And after maybe a week my interest and excitement would return with full vigor for the sport that I dreaded shortly before. I raced my best my sophomore year. I ran all my personal records of high school my sophomore year. I became accustomed to those speeds, times, and placings. I enjoyed the thrill and racing as one of the top.

Of course I got injured though. First it was iliotibial band tendonitis. My junior year the same injury plagued me on the opposite leg. And my senior year I topped it off with a completely torn ligament in my ankle and a stress fracture. Post injury I would come back with a burning desire to run my hardest and race those splits I could once reach. I didn’t want to accept the injury as an excuse to take it easy. So I ran even harder than I did before and the result was still the same. With the training load I took on, I was bound to get injured every time.

Between years I raced triathlon and cycling under my coach Michael’s leadership, coaching, and rules. I have yet to get injured over his guidance. He knows what he’s doing and better yet, my eye is on a long term goal rather than seeing the end of my career approaching way to quickly.

Fact is, I was never one of those high school prodigies. I showed up and ran 25 minutes for my first 5k. And yes, breaking one hour in a 10k was once a goal of mine. Beyond that I was never the guy that could train hard every day and expect results. I tried but I failed. I have always needed to train, back off, train, and back off again.

I suffer from a torn ankle ligament that I did not have enough patience to let heal. I still have regrets about running myself into the ground through high school. When I see most of my old teammates, they are busy running themselves into the ground in the other direction. Meanwhile I am a freshman in college, in the best shape of my life, have not had a drop of alcohol in my body since, well I forget, and I am running, cycling and swimming faster every year. And my goal is long term. And of course the goal of health and relationships is there, but I swear I can make it big. I sure want to and it seems my body is complying with this challenge.

This morning I ran a 10:59 2-mile. It was the first time I had run that race at that speed since my sophomore year. Yet now I am not lying to myself and I am not hiding inevitable injury. Now I am recovered and on a steady path to improvement. Fact is, high school distance running destroyed me for years. It broke my body, it shook tears out of me, and it turned all of burning desire to hatred of a sport that I claimed I loved.

My senior year, having been plagued with a stress fracture and a sprained ankle simultaneously, I did not return to the sport with burning desire. I remember walking into my much respected coach’s office and handing my jersey to him a folded paper grocery bag. I prayed he wouldn’t be in his office so I could just drop it off and walk away quietly from a four year career. But I had to walk in with my head held high and tell him how I could not do it anymore. Before, I  wore those colors with pride and enthusiasm. Now, I turned in as a sad, confused cripple.

That season they didn’t have enough uniforms to give to all the athletes. So the next day, another runner wore my singlet and shorts. Just like that, I was replaced. A spot opened up for another excited kid.

I pray that kid doesn’t have to go through what I did. I pray for the guys who I once ran beside and I especially pray for the guys who are still there. I pray for the high school guys on my triathlon team to keep patient and avoid injury. And I pray that no one is ever as impatient as I was.

No one but me is at fault for these sufferings and I do believe those injuries happened to help me grow. And I do think that the rush to get fast in four years is shared by most high school runners. But now, that troubled past is gone, my heart is bigger than ever and my peak lies a long way from now.

June '09

Not my day

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A half mile from the finish I passed a guy who barely mustered the question, “What age group are you in?” and upon my short breath response he exclaimed “Good!” and relaxed into his own pace again.

I spent the whole morning yesterday on the chase. And although I recently had a breakthrough at Power sprint triathlon, yesterday was not my day under the spotlight. A guy from Freeman High School gained almost two minutes on me on each leg of the race. Sadly my chase was fruitless and I never saw him.

I had a highly unusual swim in which I lost minimal time to my competitors. However, the bike leg unveiled my rusty mountain bike handling skills. My body hit the ground four times throughout the ride but with no major injuries. They simply were reminders of the fact that I had not ridden this course in this direction since last year. To add to my difficulty I had a rubbing front brake that in addition to slowing me down, squealed at me the entire ride.

With that said, Xterra is a race of problems. Nothing seems to go perfect and the person who does well is typically the one who handles those challenges the best. In road triathlons, preparation in the months and weeks and night before the race can almost always prepare a racer for the day to come. However, in Xterra, no quantity of training or preparation can completely prepare an athlete for the challenges to come during the race. Those preparations can only give the racer a false sense of readiness. Experience, patience, confidence, and perseverance outweigh the fitness which solely propels on-road triathletes to victory.

In Xterra my four years of training are useless. My only foundation is the two Xterra triathlons I have done before. The challenge, although frustrating at first, is in essence what entices me to the hellish race.

Conrad Stoltz, the winner of the Pro division this past weekend raced with a three inch open gash on his foot. He wasn’t making excuses so what is my rubbing front brake compared to that. I was almost happy that the brake rub was the worst thing that day.

My run went smooth. I made sure to pace and yet I still cramped. My kick was late though. I prefer to feel like death at the finish and with this race I simply had to much left in the tank in the last mile. I finished second in my age group but still my competitor and I both beat everyone in the 20-24 age group.

Awards

I guess after going two years straight without being beat in my age group it serves me right to be humbled this year. I’m excited for the competition. If I am in the best shape of my life and so are they, I won’t mind losing. Endorphin fitness is home growing some of the fastest juniors I have ever seen. I hope the guys share the same dream as I do and maybe one day we’ll all race alongside each other wearing red, white, and blue.