Positive Attitude Goes A Long Way

The Fourth of July, 2009.  I bounced through downtown Nashville on my mountain bike on my way to a friend’s annual pool party.  I knew there would be tons of laughing and positive energy.  My friend attracted that vibe.

As I pulled up his street, 10 emergency vehicles surrounded me.  Police cars, unmarked vans, ambulances, sirens, and flashing lights.  I picked up my pace in fear that something had happened at the pool.

By the time I got into the alley behind the condo complex, cops were rolling yellow crime tape and my mind was reeling.  No one stopped me, so I slid between the gate and saw my friends standing around drinking beer as police scurried with indecision.

The action wasn’t at the pool, but across the alley at a duplex.  It was Independence Day, the sun was shining, and Michael Jackson pumped from the speakers.  We tried with all our might to celebrate, but an ominous scene lingered at arm’s length.

We didn’t know what happened, but my friend said it was Steve McNair’s condo.  The party showed bursts of energy, but mostly the mood was sullen.  A bizarre combination of freedom meets doom.

The cops wouldn’t say what was going on, but eventually one confided, “This will be national news.”

Our pool party was closed off by crime tape.  No one was allowed to come or go for the next four hours and eventually word got out.  The former quarterback for the Tennessee Titans, and arguably the most popular man in Nashville, Steve McNair, was shot and killed.

Each end of the alley was blocked, and soon populated by hundreds of somber fans and news crews.  The party was officially over and, after four hours, I quietly hopped on my bike and peddled away in disbelief.

The guy throwing the party that day was Justin Levenson.  He is truly one of the greatest guys I’ve ever known.  Talented, caring, and always looking at life from the bright side.  He welcomes everyone without judgement and you can stay as long as you’d like.

Every time I saw him I’d ask, “How’s it going, man?”

His response was always, “Life is good, bro.”

And he meant it.

One night I happened to be playing drums for a local media talent show at the famous Wildhorse Saloon and looked out to see Justin on the panel of judges.  I told our “band” we were in good shape because my buddy would hook us up.  But as it turned out our final score landed us outside of the top 3 in the contest.

I walked up to Justin, shook his hand while he smiled and told me, “Life is good.”

I said, “That’s fine, but what’s up with the judging, man?  How come we didn’t place in the money?”

Without missing a beat Justin smiled and said, “Gotta keep it real, bro.  You guys weren’t that tight.”

Justin is honest, too.

We laughed together and hung out for a while sharing old stories his compassion and great attitude astounding me once again.

I haven’t seen Justin in quite a while, but like most I keep up with friends on Facebook.  A couple weeks ago I saw him post a link to his new blog.  I was happy to see him writing, but then  looked closer at the title, “It IS Brain Surgery.”

It was more than a little wake up call and I hesitantly clicked the link.  I feared the worst, but should have known Justin would spin it into a positive.  I read through his blog posts with pride and admiration.  He unveiled that he has a large tumor in the the left frontal lobe of his brain, then followed it with this line, “This tumor has apparently been there for quite some time which may explain why my head is so damn big…haha…kidding!  :)”

He has written several posts and they are laced with positivity.  He is facing this challenge straight on and wants everyone to know he will be a better person in the end.  He admits it’s challenging, but he will not let it bring him down.  I feel so fortunate to have met such an incredibly passionate and optimistic person.

It really makes you think.  Here’s a guy facing brain surgery with endless hope and optimism, but half the time I am deflated by something silly like a sore ankle.  I definitely need to channel more of my inner Justin.

I stopped by his Facebook page and the outpouring of love is endless.  An streaming and diverse list of friends thankful to know him spreading love up and down his page.  Even though I haven’t seen him much lately his attitude and love of life has left an undeniable impression on my soul.

Justin is 35 years old and is having brain surgery today.  I am sending all the positive energy I can muster in his direction.  Justin never sweats the small stuff, and as it turns out, the big stuff, either.  Here’s to ya, bro.  Thanks for everything and I’ll see you soon.

UPDATE:  Just over an hour after I posted, I noticed this awesome update from Justin’s dad on Facebook:

“This is Justin’s dad. He’s out of surgery and joking with the nurses. Surgeon says it went superb, actually routine.”

My 200th Post and A Lot of Thank You's

As if you needed more proof that endurance training has changed me, this is my 200th post on Crushing Iron.  Over the years I have started dozens of blogs on various subjects and most have ended before I wrote 20 posts.  Training for an Ironman has given me energy, focus, and follow-thru I have always desired.

But, it’s far more than training alone.  The people are the true motivational force, and I feel very fortunate to have so many great ones in my life.  Pushing me, supporting me, commenting that my journey has inspired them on some level.

It just happens to be National Running Day, and while I typically think these kinds of holidays are a crock, the spirit of today resonates with me on a deeper level than most.  When you run you are free, compassionate, and creative.  Competition is with yourself and the ugliest parts of human behavior are washed away.

So, in a genuine way, today is more like Thanksgiving than the formal holiday.  I’m glad to be surrounded by people who want to be better.  Who understand they are not perfect and relish the quest of that opportunity.  I apologize if you’re not mentioned by name on this list because so many have touched my journey, and many of you are in the groups mentioned.  Plus, I’m getting old and my memory is slipping.finishlinecaption

I’ve included a lot of links and hope it helps build some new connections.

The Fab Five

Jim Schwan – The man who covertly convinced me to get up and act on a passion he knew was lurking beneath my facade.  His dedication and sacrifice to this cause has changed my life.

Kevin Gammon – I watched as he struggled for over 16 hours to finish Ironman Louisville.  His toughness and determination convinced me to take a deeper look at what’s possible.  I signed up for Ironman two weeks later.

Daniel Hudgins – Who knew thrashing your body for hours on end could be fun?  Daniel did.  He laughs in the face of challenge and knows his body and soul are a gifts to be used to their fullest. Thoughtful and compassionate like no other.

Mark Scrivner – Mark pushes himself more than most.  “Want to run an extra 3 miles?”  Yeah, let’s do it.  He’s battled injury since we began training and he’s fought right through most of it.  He kept showing up and there may not be a better lesson in life.

Robbie Bruce (my coach) – Why wasn’t he my baseball coach?  I might have actually pushed myself and be writing this as a retired major leaguer.  Positive, inspiring, tough.  A coach has never connected with me and my goals like Robbie.

Allison Miles (+1) – She’s trained with the Fab 5 since January and blown my mind with her determination.  Every time it gets tough, she seems to get even tougher.  Her half ironman at Gulf Coast is further than I’ve ever traveled and she’s far from done.

John Wasky (+2) – From seemingly thin air, comes John Wasky, and an insatiable passion for triathlon, a sarcastic wit, and a natural instinct for taking it up a notch.  He made a seamless transition into the Fab 5 and has pushed us all to higher places.  His wife, Carolyn has also been a phenomenal ambassador of this crazy lifestyle.

Rebekah Shulman – The support I get from Rebekah is unparalleled.  On every turn she has encouraged me to follow my dreams and passions.  She’s listened to complaints, helped find solutions, and endorsed my crazy pursuits with unwavering conviction. She’s gotten back into running and is now turning to triathlon with her signature determination.

Roger Jokela – Roger and I met at the Village Pub and is still in my phone as “Roger Badger.”  Fellow Wisconsinite and dreamer, Roger recently quit his job, moved to the Keys and became a full-time musician.  We drank together, trained together, ran our first 1/2 marathon together.  I have a deep appreciation for Roger and the way he lives his life.

Season Kaminski – Season is proof that humans can live in their sweet spot.  I used to pepper her with endless questions about triathlon and her love for the sport flowed back to me tenfold.  Rarely do you meet someone with so much passion for the pursuit of a positive lifestyle.

Hunter Lane –  It would be hard to find someone with this level of sincerity when it comes to training.  He is a sponge and has a tenacity about nuances that is hard to match.  He’s been amazingly patient with my amateur questions from the very start.

Lee Wilson – Oregon Duck track star opens a running store in East Nashville and it just so happens to be the place that kicked off my new lifestyle.  His vision has changed the landscape of my neighborhood for the better, and his anti-Badger barbs have been a great inspiration to kick ass.

The Couch to 5K Crew from Nashville Running Company – There were about 40 of us that gathered that fateful day in January, 2012 and showed up 3 times a week in preparation for a seemingly impossible 5K.  Many of them still run with East Nasty and it genuinely makes me happy to see their faces.  Mike Clark continues to make a great commitment to beginning runners and, to this day, I thank him for being there.  Year’s ago, I wanted to be a drummer, but my first teacher didn’t resonate.  I quit and have regretted it ever since.  The patience and dedication of people who volunteer their time to help people get started is possibly the most important nuance in life.

Jeff Stokes – I remember him from my East Nasty “table-saving-days” and he’s always been a wild card.  Injuries were keeping him from running, so he turned his energy to swimming, and recently dove in with the sharks for “Escape from Alcatraz.”  His energy and dedication to the pool have given me more jolts than he knows.

Mark Miller – The thoughtful and dedicated “leader” of East Nasty whose genuine love for running has inspired so many like me along the way.  I don’t know him as well as I’d like, but I really believe his mission is  to help others get more out of life.  The power in that cannot be ignored.

Scott Piper for being himself and wearing a tube sock as a cooking glove.

Rachel Kice – The purest artist I’ve ever known.  She is a master of moving energy and her ability to transform anything (or situation) into art astounds me.  She’s also one of the few people that can visualize my quest for Ironman into a spiritual and creative journey.  The other is . . .

Kenny Varga –  One of the most creative, conceptual, and compassionate people I know.  A brilliant musician, producer, wood craftsman, and meditative runner.  Kenny simply understands.

Mike Donze – I never tire of hearing Mike’s interpretation of the world.  He is a true observer who listens and translates his feelings into beautiful photography, words, and music.  He’s also a runner at heart who truly appreciates the beauty in the human condition.

Seth Godin – His daily posts are brilliant, concise, and inspirational.  He has an uncanny way of tapping a place inside me that yearns to break free.  He’s been pelting me daily for months and I am very close to a place where his insight can be put to better use.

Robert Hartline – His entrepreneurial spirit burns like a wild fire and I’ve been lucky enough to experience that passion on many occasions.

East Nasty Running Group (This is going to have to be a group hug)
Every Wednesday night 2-300 runners gather on 14th Street and take off into the night.  If you live in East Nashville, you have seen them, and possibly been irritated by them crossing in front of your car.  I used to understand that irritation.  I wanted to get home from work and didn’t seem to have the patience to wait 15 or 30 seconds for a parade of runners.  Deep down, I knew the problem wasn’t the people in motion, but me.  I was mad that I wasn’t involved.  The East Nasty running club is all about the good.  Raising money for charity.  Donating shoes to schools and less fortunate wannabe runners.  Generally unleashing positive karma in what used to be dark and dank East Nashville neighborhoods.  These are good people who, through community, make many people’s worlds a better place to live.

The Open Water Swim crewCorey, Jonathan, Sandy, Melissa, Marc . . .

The people who consistently follow Crushing Iron from afar, like Chatter, Ann in Naptown, IowaTriBob, Sarah in Louisville, rchackman, Kruzmeister, Athleteagain, BgddyJim, Isaac976, UltraSwimFast, KickStart Endurance.  The people who follow from near, Kristine, Sallaboutme, Loni, Gina, Kelly, David, Gwen, Lisa, William.

My Co-workers – Steven for his newfound and contagious passion for triathlon. Sylwaski for listening and pushing himself when no one is watching.  Armondo for his toughness and desire to tackle whatever comes next.  Justin for caring enough to mention my 1/2 marathon improvements on air. Melissa who burns more candles than anyone I know and burns for fitness. Gil, who goes the extra mile in helping his daughter live the musical dream.  Steven who puts up with my bitching over lunch and gave me a great deal on his pool. Big Joe for randomly showing up at every 5k I run.   Rosemary, who refers to me as “Her Ironman.”

Jennifer for her love of running.  Scott for taking pride in the yellow jacket.

Kathleen for being a great friend and supporting my journey even though it means we don’t see each other as much.

Zach Layne and Heidi Wilson for publicly acknowledging the awesomeness of the Bird Walk Reservoir Weed & Feed 6k.

Andy Moss and Mark Spencer for their outlandish across-the-pond-humor and running tenacity.

The crew at Village Pub for being the best place in town and understanding I needed a little break.

Andy and Matt, who I see nearly every morning pursuing their dream in the coffee shop and inspiring me along the way.

Everyone with X3 Endurance has dished motivation.  Robert, Eddie, Brad, Sarah, Meg . . . Continually blown away by the power of community in triathlon.

Several of my college buddies like Eric, Mac, Marty, Pack, Freg, Dano, Pat, Pete, and Petey who have never seen this side of me but know I have it in me.

Mike Wright who is just as jacked as me while silently building his swim, bike, run chops in Rockford, IL.

My dog, Mattie, for putting up with my crazy schedule and teaching me to be more responsible.

And, of course, my family.  My cousins Jim, David, John, and Susie in the Northeast.  My cousins Tim and Jeni in Wisconsin.  Jeni’s husband, Phil.  And my cousin, Tiffany, who I’ve never met, but has been super supportive and will be holding a video camera on the Fab 5 at Ironman Wisconsin.

My brother Chris – We’ve had more in-depth conversations about human nature that I can count.  Nobody understands me better than my brother, and I’m sure that goes both ways.  We have spent most of our adult years apart, but the connection is undeniable.  We had incredible synergy as a double play combination on the baseball field and an unspoken bond that pushes me daily to be a better person and pursue my dreams.  Oh, and one day soon I fully expect him to be a phenomenal triathlete.

My sister Amy –  She’s lived in Dallas for years and we don’t see each other enough.  Amy and her husband, Gary are two of the most amazing people you’d want to meet.  They have three gorgeous little girls.  Not long ago, Amy ran the Dallas 1/2 marathon and I really wish I could have done it with her.  Geography has kept us apart for most of my life, but, like my brother, she has always been a major source of support and inspiration.  She’s a teacher by trade and sometimes I feel like I’m her most challenging student.

My Dad – Ironman training seems crazy to him, but it’s kinda his fault.  He’s likely the main source for my incredible determination and confidence when it comes to athletics.  We haven’t talked much about my training, but I’m pretty sure, on some level, he just expects me to crush Ironman.

Mom – She doesn’t really understand Ironman either, but it’s very exciting to her.  She’s a mom, so she’s worried about her son, but I’m 99% sure she will be holding some kind of creative home made sign as I bike and run by her in Madison.  Something like, “My Son is Crazy, but I Love Him For It.”

And finally, anything to do with my personal inspiration always seems to have a connection to Tim.  He was one of my closest friends from childhood.  We had a bond that you can never define.

He could call my bluff from a mile away.  We never lived in the same town after college, but talked on the phone multiple times a week (or day) like little school girls.  We dealt with so many of the same problems and became each others therapists.

Nothing was off limits and our connection always grounded us in hope.  We pushed and inspired each other to follow our dreams, even in the middle of nightmares.  Two years ago on Halloween, Tim died.  I was legitimately crushed.  Every day something reminded me of him and I’d pick up the phone to call.  I’d look at the screen, see his number, and resist pushing “dial” with every bone in my body.  I couldn’t believe he was gone. But even though we don’t talk, I hear his voice during every race.  Pushing me to be my best.

He was gone before I started my transformation, but he was a major factor in the process.  It sounds corny, but I know he would be proud of me.  He was a truly selfless person on so many levels.  Consumed with the concept of making life a happier and more enjoyable journey for everyone.

On September 8th, I will have a lot of time to think and I’m sure everyone I’ve mentioned and more will cross my mind at least once.  It has been a great ride and I don’t plan on getting off the train anytime soon.

It's Heating Up – Swim, Bike, Run, Ironman

Juxtaposing Ironman training with other races is tricky.  As I prepared for the New Orleans Half Marathon I was leery of doing too much because I wanted to run well, and it paid off.  But now that it’s over, most of what’s on my plate is triathlons, and preparation should fit seamlessly into the program.  And that program, is getting intense.

Yesterday, I swam for an hour, mixing in sprints and paddle work (which I now love).  Last night was a tempo run of about an hour and ten minutes.  I still have to pinch myself at times when I’m routinely knocking out an 8 mile run after work like it’s no big deal.  A year ago, I was sweating my first 5k.

The body’s ability to adjust is remarkable.  I wasn’t easy to digest a long-ish run last night, but Mark and I hammered the first of two 25 minute tempo runs pretty good. Daniel joined for the second loop and my legs got heavy, but my breathing rarely did. That’s the amazing part to me.  Just like the New Orleans Half.  I didn’t feel like I was breathing hard at all until I hit mile eleven.  Our aerobic capacities are far more than most of us can imagine.

I remember a lesson I learned from East Nasty Godfather, Mark Miller when I started running last year.  He said the minute your exercise becomes anaerobic, your risk of bonking elevates.  That’s why little things like slowing your pace before you reach a hill are important.

Out of all the things I’ve learned, that one stays close to my brain.  I’m always flirting with the edge of my breathing while I run.  If I’m breathing more than every 4th stride on running, I take note and back it down a little, especially if they are hard breaths.  That’s the edge for me and usually I’ll only push that hard if I’m toward the end of a run.  I consciously focus on taking a deep and relaxed breath to see if I can extend my stride count.  Many times I can.  Even if it’s to 4 1/2.  To me that signals I’m in my comfort zone.  Then it all comes down to what’s left in my legs.

Cycling (albeit inside on a trainer) has really boosted my leg strength.  We’ve done up to three hour sessions, followed by 30 minute runs.  I’m not sure of the mechanics between biking and running, but I feel like time on the bike also makes me a faster runner.  The more I think about it, the more I find the bike an incredibly powerful workout.

If you haven’t spent a couple hours on a trainer, without the wind in your face or a fan and you can’t believe how much you sweat.  The illusion of wallowing through the meadow on a bicycle will quickly be shattered if you lock down a spin wheel on your back tire.  I am really anxious to see how the indoor training translates to the road.

Tonight, it’s back on the trainer for a big gear/threshold session and I’m looking forward to inching closer toward being a “finisher” at Ironman Wisconsin.  It’s the little steps, the small gains, and the barely recognizable shots of confidence that make a difference in the end.  That, and training with a group of guys and a coach that continually give me a jolt when I need it most.

For me, Ironman is 90% about confidence, yet that 10% doubt lurks at all times.  The nagging pain, the bad workout, the exhaustion.  I am banking on momentum to dilute the doubt, the negativity, and I’m seeing the power in that principle more every day.  And that theory is making me more aware that I need to surround myself with positive and inspiring people in general.  Life is too short to be around people that bring you down.