ironman blog – Page 4

August 14, 2014

Winning "The Battle of Ironman" #IMLOU

I quit my job two weeks ago and have an Ironman in nine days. I have a million conflicts in my mind and for some reason, not many have been falling onto the page. And that’s bad, because I truly believe writing about triathlon has helped me nearly as much as the blood and sweat.

I am infinitely more relaxed about this Ironman than I was my first. Finishing doesn’t scare me. But I’m not convinced that’s a good thing.

Last year I trained 9 solid months. This year I have been in and out due to injuries and even took 10 Days of Rest in the middle of training. I am calm, but that doesn’t mean I am confident.

I have swam 2.4 miles twice in my life. Once in training last year and once at Ironman Wisconsin. I haven’t come close this year, but feel frequent shorter swims have made me a better swimmer. I’m excited and curious to see how that plays out.

I have ridden 112 miles twice in my life. Both last year as well.

My longest in 2014 is 77 miles, but I also feel like I am a stronger cyclist now. I’ve certainly been “on” the bike more in the last couple months and hope my intense focus on riding in aero pays off in Louisville.

And, if you like drama, intrigue, conflict, and mystery, keep an eye locked on Iron Trac during my run. I’ve been fighting injuries for most of the summer and walking more than running. Just as I was easing back to the pavement, I hurt my ribs so I shelved running until race day. My longest training run of the year is 12 miles, and that was two months ago. In 9 days I’ll run 26.2.

I fueled on fear for Wisconsin. I chased the finish line and medal with reckless abandon. It lifted me higher than I’d been in years. I thought I had arrived. But Ironman and life don’t go away.

I was overly confident at New Orleans 70.3 in March and it ate me alive. I vowed never to take a race lightly again.

That said, I believe confidence is the most important thing in Ironman. You have to believe or you’re setting yourself up to fail.

So, 9 days out, I’m drinking coffee with bruised ribs and thinking about the swim line up at Ironman Louisville. I’ve been there as a spectator so I know how it feels. It’s intimidating and breathless as you stand there offering support, but putting on the race gear gives me confidence.

You dial in to face a crafty enemy. Silent, omnipresent, resiliant. It’s a war of attrition. There are no guarantees, but if you stay focused, respect the race, and believe in yourself, you will win the battle. You will raise your hands high and celebrate victory, but the war is never over.

August 11, 2014

Ironman Louisville Meet Mr. Badwater

I realize 13 days is a long time and weather forecasting is a crap shoot, but here’s the latest forecast for Ironman Louisville on Sunday August 24th. I’m glad they put the “very hot” part in there because 99 degrees would have never tipped me.

The funny thing is, on some level this really pumps me up. Ironman is a big deal and why not make it bigger with legendarily difficult conditions? It would be the opposite of last year’s Tahoe and definitely go down in the annals of Ironman lore as one of those “remember 2014 in Louisville?”

Badwater describes itself as “The world’s toughest foot race” and often clocks in around 120 degrees in the shade. They literally have to run on the white lines on the road or their shoes will melt. Think about that one for a second.

So, if you get your head right, 99 degrees should technically feel like a cool and crisp Fall morning.

August 8, 2014

Discipline and Desire

It’s the oldest conflict in the book. How do we control our desires?

The Dali Llama says we should do it through discipline, and he’s always right. You crave cake now, but hold off and four hours later, you’re really happy you didn’t have that cake. But how do we do that?

I’m not a big believer in willpower, but I am a fan of habit. Slowly adding practices that move you toward a goal.

And on the road to building those habits, I have tried to build another one . . . forgiveness.

I think self-doubt is the reason we eat cake. The more we can trust the process and forgive ourselves, the stronger we become.

It’s really important to step back and look at the body of work. Look at the distance we’ve traveled and give ourselves credit. It’s easy to beat yourself up when you’re down, and those opportunities are endless when training for Ironman.

I am often weak and make a lot of “mistakes.” I skip workouts and occasionally eat cake. But real change takes time, and it helps when I remind myself.

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August 1, 2014

23 Lessons with 23 Days Until Ironman Louisville

The following was one of Crushing Iron’s most read and commented on blog posts. My neighbor is not an Ironman, but he is a man full of deep lessons that put your mind in the right place. Last year he noticed my angst building and sat me set me straight with some great Zen-like thoughts for each of the last 23 days as Ironman approached.

23 Lessons, 23 Days Out from Ironman – By my neighbor James

If you’ve been reading the blog, you already know my neighbor, James, thinks I’m crazy for doing Ironman. Well, today, he popped his head through the bushes and offered some pre-race advice.

I told him things were going well and we’re only 23 days out from the race. He said, “Aww, dayum! I know what’s up. I went thru that same thing back in the day when I was gettin’ ready for my big concert.”

“Concert?”

“Oh, hell yeah, I used to tap dance for the church team.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, and it was some shit! We drove that rusty ass van all the way to Savannah for the church championships.”

“Wow.”

“Okay Mike, I see how hard u been working and ya mind be doin flips. Let me outline some shit, cuz I’ve been right where you at right now, and this is how ya next 23 days gonna work.”

Day 23 – That’s today, bro. You all out here mowin the lawn with your bike gloves, but your mind… see, your mind ain’t even here. You lookin’ off in the damn clouds and ya dog, Mattie, want some food.

Day 22 – Gonna be a lot like today, but u got a whole weekend to think about shit. You gonna wish u could mow the lawn again, but that’s neither here or then, so u gotta keep your ass straight to the ground, u hear what I’m sayin?

“Uh, Yeah.”

Day 21 – You gonna be hungover as hell cause one of ya swimmin friends got a birthday party or some shit and I know u ain’t listenin’ to what I’m tellin you right now. You gonna be all depressed and thinkin u need to get your head together, but Man, I’m tellin u, all u need to do is put on them tight shorts and ride that damn bike just like I would drag my ass outta bed and dance. You feel me?

“Yeah”

Day 20 – Mondays are a trip, man. It aint easy to get up and dance. But you gotta dance! Grab that little Speedo u got, then get your ass in a lake and dance with the barracudas!

Day 19 – I know u hear what I’m sayin, but it ain’t sinkin in… look at u chewin on them little energy candy packs like they gonna help u mow the lawn faster. Listen up!

Day 18 – Man, it gonna be mid-week and u gonna have some doubts, but u can’t let that shit up in you. We all had our doubts, but keep ya eye on the prize. Shine them damn shoes or eat you a salad to keep ya weight down. You gotta be light, man. You can’t dance all day if u got a big ass at night.

Day 17 – My lil James Jr. gonna come out that door right there and start yellin, “Mr. Mike, Mr. Mike,” and you gonna be like, “Damn, James Jr. out here screamin ‘Mr. Mike’ again.” And you gonna be right, but he just wanna say what up. Take a minute to say he a good kid.

“Done.”

Day 16 – Man, you start forgettin’ what day it even is. Could be Thursday or might be Tuesday. Don’t matta. You know what TIME it is. It time to put on that big ole’ watch and run your little white ass down the block a few times.

Day 15 – When I was in my prime, I’d watch me some Sammy Davis Jr. and dance right in front of the T-V all damn night. Rollin’ that shit back on VHS until my mom spanked my ass with my own damn belt. Aint that some shit? Tap dancin with my boy, Sammy, and mom breakin’ bad on my ass. The point is, you gotta get ya passion right. I was so deep in my dance I didn’t even feel that belt, unless she got me with that buckle, then I would eject that tape, head straight to bed and ice my feet.

Day 14 – You gonna think I’m full of corn, but when you two weeks away from ya dance, you gotta forget all the moves. Sit back with your friends and just talk about shit u don’t care about. Hell, my boy Mincie talked out both sides his mouth bout that damn Flipper show and I just shook my head and ate biscuits. Sound crazy, but he kept it real and real is what it is.

Day 13 – Okay, now I’m gonna tell u somethin, but it ain’t what you hope. You gonna start worryin’ bout everything. Like nightmare and dream shit that straight out a Stephen King movie. Like u tryin to spot that swim buoy but ain’t got no eyes or u runnin’ on hot burnin’ coals or u forgot ya swim cap. But that just ya mind fuckin wit u. I had a dream once and I was dancin’ on my damn hands. Ain’t that some Jackabilly?

Day 12 – Not gonna lie. Day 12 ain’t for nothin’ but lettin’ your nerves calm down from that Stephen King shit. Nothin else u can do, really.

Day 11 – Man, I started thinkin’ bout my dance routine and couldn’t remember a damn step. You prolly gonna think u can’t run a straight line or u gonna put that tight ass wetsuit on backwards. Mike, look at me. Don’t take that shit personal! You can do what you think you can’t do no matta what you think that is, or isn’t or might be. Like Mincie used to say, “Lotta times, it is what it isn’t.”

Day 10 – This when u gotta make amends wit ya mom for whippin u wit that belt. She done forgot that shit a long time ago, but it gotta clear ya head if u wanna show up on that stage. She was just doin what she thought u needed and I damn well deserved a belt sometimes, and for real, I didn’t know Sammy and he didn’t know me, so I really can’t figure out why I was so hyped on that dude. It really come down to who you know and takin’ care of them first. Like yaself, Mike!

Day 9 – Them Mayans used to talk about single digit numbers like they was somethin real important and those cats had it just about right. Am I lyin? Made a damn sun dial and didn’t even know what the sun was. And ate fresh food and ran all damn night. See, that’s what you need, Mike. Eat you some fresh food and quit runnin ya mouth.

Day 8 – Bro, we was rehearsin’ like it was no tomorrow. They had them speakers on so loud I started doin some crazy ass dance nobody eva seen before. The coach came over and said, “What the hell kinda dance you doin, James?” I said, “I don’t know coach.” He said, “Well, go ahead and save that for ya girlfriend, cause it don’t make no damn sense to me and it sure ain’t got nothin to do with the show.” You with me, Mike?

“I think so.”

Day 7 – They say 7 is a lucky number, but when you 7 days out from ya dance, that superstition get all crazy up in ya head. I was wearin the same socks all week and momma was like, “Damn, boy, I bought u some new socks and you gotta go stinkin up the house cause you worried bout your tap dancin.” She was right, cuz my feet stunk like the trunk of your damn car, Mike. Ain’t no pair of socks gonna win that race. Change that shit up.

Day 6 – I think I told you about day 6 before when we was both on our weed eaters out front. Day 6 is some shit cause you start thinkin’ bout runnin’ away and hidin’ in dumpsters or at ya Grandma’s crib. Ain’t gonna work. You gotta get ya head straight and start hearin’ the music right. They warmin’ up the symphony and your ears betta get used to them sour notes.

Day 5 – Man, I never slept so good in my life. I mean, I surrendered myself to the concert like I was in AA turnin’ wrongdoings over to God. It felt good, too. My body was light and I was movin’ like that one white dancer dude, Fred Stair and whatnot.

Day 4– I was hearin’ them church bells in my head like u gonna start hearin’ that cannon shot. Bam! Over n over. Drivin’ down the road, and cannons gonna be poppin’ all up under that runnin’ visor u got. That gonna be a good time to stop thinkin’ bout cannons.

Day 3 – That doubt gonna be creepin’ and u just gotta remember one thing. Ain’t no time to be doubtin’ on yaself. Man, I kept lookin’ at my dancin’ shoes and I swear they looked too big. Like clown shoes n shit. I thought I WAS a clown and started tellin’ bad jokes, but people was like, “Damn, quit bein’ a clown,” and I decided that was a good idea.

Day 2– Okay. You one day from the dance, so what you gonna do? I thought so. You gonna get you some damn rest. Don’t be messin’ with that sight seein’ or shoppin’ for souvenirs. Get you a Flipper box set and wear it out. Get you thinkin’ bout the water and nice fish with happy little noses.

Day 1 – Mike, you my boy, but this one’s on you.

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July 30, 2014

Ironman Training Distances

My friend Corey just confirmed that he’ll be flying in to Louisville to watch me race. He followed that text with, “So you better kick some ass.”

I told him all I could guarantee is good drama.

He asked what my longest swim, bike, and run of training have been.

I said, 2,800 meters in water, 77 on the bike and 12 miles of running.

There is no doubt I put in more mileage last year. The fear of the unknown drove my training, and in Ironman Number One, I couldn’t take chances.

But, is 2,800, 77 and 12 enough for Ironman #2?

It’d better be, because that’s about as far as it’s going.

I love exploring this topic because my goal has always been to keep training time at the bare minimum. I can’t tell you how many times I have stopped a workout early because I knew I could finish and didn’t want to waste another hour or jeopardize the next day.

But there is flip side to this coin.

For me, training all comes back to effort. If I’m scheduled for a shorter workout and feel really strong, I often extend it to push my limits.

I know long workouts have their place, but I’ve never been a fan of riding 6 hours just to ride six hours. I would much rather ride four hours hard and build.

And there’s another mental factor I bank on during a race . . . the energy.

I often train by myself because I put a lot of stock in fueling off the crowd. If I can trudge through pain in isolation, running past a screaming group is icing on the cake. I can literally be like a reset button to me. You can be drifting off to sleep, then someone gives you a big jolt of adrenaline that lifts you over the next few miles.

This race is at least half mental and the half of that is simply faith.

I’m pretty sure nobody ever does the entire distance in one day of practice, so what’s too much? What’s not enough? People have been debating that one for years and I’m very curious to see if my low-end strategy plays out.

Until then, I’ll be looking for my sweet spot. Using my final days to make me feel alive and restored rather than like I’ve been beaten over the head with a baseball bat. I’ll have plenty of time for that the night of August 24th in the hometown of Louisville Slugger.

July 24, 2014

Battling Ironman Doubt #IMLOU

Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.” — Marcus Aurelius

Ironman training comes with a roller coaster of emotions, and one of the most prevalent is doubt. It doesn’t help when you’re sick a month from the race and battling Achilles and plantar fasciitis issues, but I am remaining positive and in “everything happens for a reason” mode.

Yesterday was massage day and my therapist basically told me, “my body is a wreck.” Oddly, it was my back and shoulders that seemed the most jacked up as she wrenched on the sore tendons. I told her to “Make me squirm,” and it was easy to oblige.

On top of that, I started getting a sore throat Tuesday night and spent most of the day inhaling fresh juice and tons of water. It took about a day to release that problem, but I’m still weak and congested. One month away from Ironman and I am not sure I could comfortably run a mile.

I keep reminding myself that Ironman training is a lesson in patience. You can’t “always” be ready to race and a major part of training is breaking your body down, so you can build it back up. Today, I have a great opportunity.

One thing I wish I did was keep a food journal because I think that is likely where my problem lies. I get sloppy with my diet because of ravenous hunger and next thing I know I am plowing down tortilla chips. That’s one place for change or I may soon be smiling on the open road behind the wheel of this truck.

Nothing about Ironman says “moderation” and honestly, that is a major conflict with my training and racing. I get to points where my body feels invincible and push it over the edge, only to wake up the next day feeling like I got run over by my own 18 Wheeler.

With that in mind, here’s my latest thought on training for Ironman with a month left. I’m supposed to be in “build” phase, but since I am “building” from a trough of exhaustion, I have to be careful about my workouts. Because if I have one mantra about racing an Ironman, it is this: “I simply want to feel great on race day.”

So, that could very well mean I won’t have a full distance swim, bike, or run under my belt when I toe the line in Louisville. In fact, I won’t even really be close in any of the three. My longest swim is around 3,200 meters, bike is 80 miles, and run is 12 miles. How in the hell do I think I’ll be able to do a full Ironman on August 24th?

With patience and confidence.

This race is one stroke, one spin, and one stride at a time. None of mine will (or should) be at max effort. For me it’s about finding your flow and managing pain.

As I write this, doubt is all over my body and mind, but it’s because of how I feel right at this moment. My opportunity is to listen to my body. To start fueling, resting, and “building” within my limits.

With one month left, I have to let go of doubt and fear, trust where I’ve been, and believe I will be prepared to face that moment with the same weapons I’ve been using today.

July 17, 2014

The Hardest Parts of Writing About Triathlon

I’m closing in on 500 original posts about triathlon. Seems like I would have run out of fuel a long time ago, but it proves to me this blog is about much more about the human condition than simply swim, bike, and run.

It kind of blows me away . . . mainly because I have stuck with it this long. I haven’t made money, but I’ve gained a better understanding of myself and how to deal with the intense ups and downs of training for Ironman and how that impacts our lives.

My blog traffic suggests that a fair number of people have enjoyed reading about my journey, but the truth is, there are always questions. Sometimes it’s like being all alone on your run at mile 19. You question the point and want nothing more than for it to be over. But as hard as that marathon can be, you have to keep moving.

I Don’t Know What I’m Talking About

As I write about triathlon there is always temptation to “start acting like I know what I’m talking about.” That’s what they tell you . . . “be an expert.” But the truth is, I am not.

I love to get into the mind. Play with the psychology. Explore the limits of this crazy pursuit. Find solutions and somehow get to the finish line.

The answers are never obvious and my opinions/strategies are constantly changing. But, the one constant is, “My body knows if I listen.” The truth is inside me fighting its way to the surface. Some days it may be different, and, in the end, I am pouring feelings, often unclear, onto the page.

Staying the Course

I’ve watched a ton of music documentaries in my life and there’s always a point when the band is getting popular and the label starts trying to control everything. But legendary groups stick to their guns and make the music that’s inside of them without compromise. That is how I want to approach my writing.

They say, “write what you know,” and for me that is passion. Passion for the sport, the lifestyle, and the quest to become a healthier person.

Do I want people to enjoy my website? Yes. Do I want to do whatever it takes to get the most views? Sometimes, but I would rather grow organically than by using artificial tactics that lose focus of the reasons this blog is important to me . . . and hopefully you.

“Marketing is Everything”

Ironically, I am a professional marketer by trade, but the writer in me refuses to listen to that asshole. Well, he’s not that bad, but like most executives, he has a tendency to overlook one very important part of the marketing mix: the product.

In my professional life, I spend a great deal of time writing what are ultimately lies, or at best, illusionary truth. Covering up flaws with beautiful words that hope to sway your opinion about something you don’t want.

That’s exactly the opposite of what I want to do here. I am fallible, vulnerable, impossibly human, and everything in this blog is a true reflection of those flaws. Those beautiful flaws that I believe everyone can relate to.

An Authentic Voice

This is about being real. Admitting my struggle, knowing that is ultimately the best way to get through it.

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting a ton of talented writers and musicians in Nashville. Great, creative minds that push the envelope with their thought. But often, that innovative soul is stripped in the name of commerce.

They pour music and words from their purest hearts, only to adapt mechanical approaches to please the masses. Their original material becomes diluted in the process of chasing numbers.

They learn nuances of “getting attention” and “manufacturing fans,” but it’s often a compromise that leaves them unhappy. This is where I struggle as a writer.

If we are quiet enough and listen to our gut, we instinctively know how to deal with any situation. But when “influencers” start impacting decision making, we tend to lose our way.

Are you willing to throw away your lyrics and your soul just to get a little attention? Are you willing to stop running just because it hurts?

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July 3, 2014

My Wild Nightlife These Days

Icing Ankles — Yes, I know I need to shave.

So, last night I went wild with a Seinfeld rerun, ice, and a steak. Nuts, I tell ya. It was the one where George pulled a pre-emptive break up with his girlfriend. What’s really crazy is, I pay $180/month for cable and that’s about the only thing I watch. I understand that is not logical, but not much in my life is these days.

Legs feel good. Feet and ankles, not so much. I can honestly say this is my biggest concern right now. A small tweak in my Achilles, and a lingering heel pain. I’m getting more optimistic, but I need to figure this out.

June 20, 2014

4 Things I Learned About Swimming Today

I’ve always loved swimming, but for some reason can only “figure it out” in very short stretches — and rarely remember what I’ve discovered. Sometimes it feels easy, but way too often it sends my pulse through the roof.

Today at the lake was one of those days when everything clicked. I just hope I can remember this stuff.

The Pool Tricks You

It’s very hard for me to relax in a pool, but today I was completely chill as I glided through a 7-800 yard warm up in the lake. It felt amazing from the beginning: I eased in, found a groove, and just kept going.

In between the drills that followed, it dawned on why a pool feels different. Likely because I’m always turning around then scrambling to re-find the stroke I just found.

I guess I knew that, but the even bigger discovery is this: Short laps in a pool have a tendency to deceive me into thinking I’m close to the end, which subconsciously pushes me to “finish” each length. I think this totally explains how I can occasionally be gassed after my first 200 meters.

Not only that, if you think about it, swimming in a pool is like running a 5k on a football field by doing 50 laps to the back of the end zone and back. It would probably be a great workout, but tough to find a running rhythm.

Swimming is Not Diving

Every time I hit the pool, there is always some A-hole effortlessly gliding by while I fight the water. I’ve always suspected drag and it finally occurred to me that I may be diving too deep on my entrance. Ie… my hand goes too far down after it hits the water. That pretty much means my entire arm, shoulder, head, and chest go under water, which is not good when you’re trying to stay on top of it.

I’ve heard that a lot of people do this because it “feels like” they are working more productively. But we’re fighting the water and it’s really hard to get a higher stroke count because you’re pulling with far more force than necessary.

So, I focused on keeping my hand and elbow higher in the water, which can also be a problem because you get sucked into “gliding,” so I made sure to work a quick stroke count. It seemed to click and I was moving smoothly with a quick and effective pull. The best part was, it also felt easier to keep my breathing under control.

Lake Water Feels Better

Is it just me or does walking into a lake on a warm summer morning feel like a Cialis commercial?

The very second my to hit the water, I felt like a different person. Something about the fresh air and the water being in tune with nature changed my entire perspective.

Being in a lake is like exploring. No rope, no concrete, and no chlorine. The sun re rejuvenates your body with each stroke and I honestly feel like lake water forms around your body differently. Like it’s not as heavy or something.

New Gear is Like Crack

As a bonus I wore my new ROKA SIM shorts and they really felt nice. They simulate the effect of a pull buoy, but let you swim naturally.

For some reason new gear always pumps you up and I can really see how they will help me learn to relax and get a better rotation in the water. If you decide to get some, please let them know Crushing Iron sent you.

10473555_10154284417495054_1547687357_o — Photo by Sarah Shearer

June 19, 2014

You Know As Much As Your Doctor

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I used to play competitive softball. Yeah, I know, that sounds like an oxymoron, but this shit was intense. Our team had a tour bus and we’d drive all over the Midwest to drink cases of beer at night, then shake off hangovers to face the best of the best.

Our home field was in Rockford, IL, but our weekends took us to Detroit, Minneapolis, Louisville, Cincinnati, St. Louis and many points in between. Most of our team was made up of ex-minor league or college baseball players. I played shortstop, and we won a ton of tournaments.

One summer we drove 6 hours to play in the USSSA Regional tournament in Louisville with 69 other teams. It was double-elimination and even if you didn’t lose, you still had to win 6 games in two days, and that’s exactly what we did.

We were called the Shockers, and we absolutely rolled through the bracket that weekend winning every game by 10 runs or more. Everything was clicking. In the semi-final, I took a throw at 2nd base to turn a double play and felt something go wrong with a finger. I pulled my glove away and the ring finger on my left hand fell limp. It didn’t hurt but was clearly jacked up. I thought it was dislocated so I jammed it back into socket.

While we waited for the next game, my finger started to swell. It was hard to put on the glove and even tougher to hold a bat, but I played the and celebrated a regional championship. We boarded the bus with our big trophy and headed home with about 5 cases of beer, many of which went in my belly to subdue the pain in my finger.

By the time we got home it was midnight, and I had been sleeping for the last hour. My entire hand was swollen, but I was so tired, I didn’t really care. By morning it was the size of a softball.

I went into an Immediate Care type joint where the “doctor” took some x-rays and concluded it was sprained. He gave me a splint that reminded me of a Popsicle stick and I was on my way. By the end of that day I was pounding Advil and icing the shit out of my “sprained” finger.

This went on for about a week until I decided something was seriously wrong. I drove to the emergency room and by great fortune one of Rockford’s best orthopedic surgeons was on shift. He took x-rays and came back in with a very long face and said, “We need to get into surgery as soon as possible. Like tomorrow! You have a torn tendon and a shattered knuckle!”

I was like, holy fuck. No wonder this hurts so bad.

We scheduled surgery for that week and I coped with the pain. Then he called and told me we’d have to push it back a few days. Then a week. And another week. I didn’t flop on the operating table for nearly 4 weeks after the injury and to make a very long story short, my tendon had atrophied to a point that I still have a curl in that finger. It works and doesn’t hold me back from much, but there has been a constant, subtle nagging ever since.

I was never a big fan of doctors and that was the nail in the coffin. That was probably 15 years ago and I have only been to the doctor a couple times since then. Once for a broken foot, the other for something I can’t remember. I just don’t trust them much and feel like illness is something we innately understand.

Back in college I had a business professor from London. He used to rant and rave about American health care and offered this in defense of socialized medicine.

“You see, if someone goes into the doctor’s office in England with the sniffles, the bloody doctor will kick him in the behind and tell him to go drink some fluids. They don’t put up with psychosomatic illness.”

That always resonated with me, especially several years later when I watched my grandmother squander a small fortune on pills over the last 5 years of her life. Her doctors literally turned her into a junkie. She’d sit at the dinner table pulling out pill after and I wondered when she would be healed.

It never happened, of course, and eventually she fell prey to years of poison. A sad ending to one of the most caring people I’ve ever met.

Grandma was also depressed at the end, and who wouldn’t be when your nutrition comes from a pill box? The older I get, the more I realize that it’s okay to be depressed. People get depressed. The problem is, we don’t realize that sad can be a good thing. It’s telling us something. But society wants it to mean everyone is fucked up.

This is one of many reasons I am strongly opposed to health care as we know it. One misleading “study” after another is broadcast like gospel from any media outlet that can get their hands on it.

“It’s gold, Jerry!”

My theory on health has always been pretty simple. Pain is your friend.

If something seems wrong, change it. If you are tired all the time, cut back on sugar and coffee, exercise and eat lighter foods. If you’re cold, move around and eat something that burns hotter in your body. If you have a fever, rest and let it work its way out. If you drank 12 beers last night, it will probably affect how you feel for the next several days. Just because your head hurts, doesn’t mean you need surgery or “meds” that will make you more dehydrated.

These are the kinds of things I always try to remember with endurance training. We’re always on the verge of extreme dehydration, so I drink more fluids than I think I need. I never underestimate rest and recovery. I focus on the cause of my nagging injury, not just the symptom.

I stay in the moment. I visualize success. I keep the faith.

In short, I think about the body and mind as one, and rarely trust someone who wants to give me drugs. Oh, and if I think I broke a bone, or something more serious, I go to the emergency room.