Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Ironman Coeur d’Alene 2008: Who Am I?
The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds cut out of the sun
Can you read my mind?
Tuesday night. The beach fire was down to coals. The constant crash of a waterfall from across the lake was sounding like the 405 with my bedroom window open at 2am.
I was gaping at the Milky Way for the first time in years. My legs still hurt like hell--the Oban 14 wasn’t quite doing its job--but I didn’t mind, I was with friends and family. But would someone help me out of this chair?
Slippin’ in my faith until I fall
You never returned that call
The year was rife with stupidity on my part: bad bike fit, ramping up my distance running too quickly, starting my training more than 20 pounds over my race weight, incurring an IT band injury in my right knee and not being able to run for 6 weeks--including the prime training weeks 6,5, and 4 weeks out.
Woman, open the door, don't let it sting
I wanna breathe that fire again
Getting my wife Lynn and the Family back on board for me to do Ironman #5 was no easy task. When we drove over to sign up at the end of June of 2007, I was in the middle of one of the more difficult periods of my work life. Work/life balance was out of whack, I wasn’t happy with myself and what I was becoming. Lynn was right to question if this was the right thing for me to be tackling given the situation.
In my core, I believed I needed something like Ironman to get me back on track. The daunting, monumental nature of the task would force me to change my ways, or break myself trying.
She said I don't mind, if you don't mind
'Cause I don't shine if you don't shine
Put your back on me
Put your back on me
Put your back on me
When someone in the house is training for an Ironman, it is always a family affair.
Once the holidays were winding down, I was at my nadir in terms of fitness, and the weather was at its bleakest, it was time to start the 6-month ramp of training.
Stellar times.
There were many runs pushing my son Owen in the BOB Ironman Baby Jogger in the rain and funk. There were multiple trainer rides in the garage listening to a local radio station’s 4 hours of 80’s music on Sunday mornings.
Once I was committed and the training started, Lynn got behind me and Rae and I started talking about how we were going to cross the finish line together for the 3rd time in her young life. She’s proven to be a good finisher over the years.
Before you jump
Tell me what you find when you read my mind
I was questioning my resolve as when I was having back and knee issues related to my bad bike fit. I considered just cutting my losses ($200+ one night hotel and $475 entry fee, new wetsuit, two new pairs of running shoes, new pedals, new cycling shoes and a bunch more smaller stuff) and throwing in the towel.
I didn’t really open up to Lynn about how crummy my head was getting about the whole business, but I started to feel better after seeing the Physical Therapist and getting the bike adjusted properly. I couldn’t run, but I could swim and bike OK, so that’s what I did – swim-bike-eat-work-sleep – for several weeks. While it wasn’t extraordinarily high volume, I hadn’t put that much mileage in on the bike since college, and my swimming was starting to come back a little.
The drop dead dream,
the Chosen One
During the months of training you think about a lot of things. During the race, you face some of those things you’ve been running from the whole time:
Long before all this Ironman 5X mess, I was a scrawny, scared little kid from a busted home and a little brother into martial arts—I couldn’t even kick his ass anymore …
I was in the pool and on my local swim club due to having mild postural scoliosis which manifested at a young age—the docs said if I didn’t swim and take care of my back, it could get worse over time …
My second bike was a Red Raleigh 10-speed that I’d ride around the neighborhood until it got all out of tune and nobody could help me fix it …
A couple of years ago, I had a chest x-ray to determine if I had pneumonia or not. My doc called me and asked me if anybody had ever dropped me on my head, due to my compacted T2 vertebrae …
Can you read my mind?
A southern drawl, a world unseen;
When I was 12 my mom started dating this tug boat captain from the south named George. A real alcoholic piece of work, this one. My self-esteem was diving and I would get out of the house and run when it got to be too much.
A city wall and a trampoline
Bellingham nights. The first house. Biking down Chuckanut past Larabee and out into the fields. Trampoline in the backyard plus crazy amounts of alcohol. Get up early and run while the snow poured out of the sky.
It’s funny how you just break down
Waitin' on some sign
I pull up to the front of your driveway
With magic soakin' my spine
Biking back from work, no lights on my bike. Two Costco canisters of Gatorade in my backpack. Ride up to your door. Delivery ma’am. You mix some up and we talk. I’m falling in love with you. Oh well I don't mind, if you don't mind'Cause I don't shine if you don't shineBefore you go, can you read my mind?
I’m leaving you. I’m going to shoot the moon and ride and swim and run in the desert. I’m going to Peter Pan this thing until I’m dead and gone.
The good old days, the honest man;
The restless heart, the Promised Land
A subtle kiss that no one sees;
A broken wrist and a big trapeze
15 years old. Clean and jerk. Broke my wrist. On the verge. Swimming the fastest times of my life “no Junior Olympics for you, son,” pressure on my throat “count backwards from ten for me…” Quiet.
I never really gave up on
Breakin' out of this two-star town
I got the green light
I got a little fight
I'm gonna turn this thing around
Riding my bike to the top of 162nd street. View across the highway to the cemetery and the airplanes taking off beyond. Everybody always going somewhere except me. Watching this sentiment viscerally played out in “True Romance.” Not alone.
On the corner of main street
Just tryin' to keep it in line
You say you wanna move on and
You say I'm falling behind
When I finally turned the corner that took us down the main drag in town to the finish, I checked behind me to ensure I could cross the line alone. I waved one guy through and slowed up a little to ensure it would be just me.
A volunteer yelled out to me and my daughter came out of the crowd, grinning like the little mad-woman she is and came running up to me, grabbed my hand and pulled me through the finish line.
Can you read my mind?
Can you read my mind?
Five down. Five more years to go.
Lyrics from “Read My Mind” by The Killers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ch3hppFG3UQ
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