Ironman – Page 6

April 13, 2013

Bike, Run, Bike . . . and Training Progress

This morning I got on my mountain bike around 7 am and rode to the Moosic City Dairy Dash to run a 10K. It’s a nice little race. Very flat, fast and they feed you ice cream with pasta. This was my first 10K (last year) and it’s pretty amazing to think that, in essence, I treated it as part of a training day.

I hate to harp on this, but I’m nearly 50 and just started running last year. It hasn’t been easy and I have been putting in a ton of effort, but the difference you can make in a year is quite astonishing.

I was actually pretty proud of my time last year, 54 minutes and change, but it was unbelievably difficult. I was seriously close to fainting around mile 5 and somehow sucked it up to finish.

I’m not even sure how to quantify this progress in training, but I think the best evidence is how I felt hammering home on a heavy bike after running hard in that race. And now, I sit here writing, when last year I was already in bed taking a nap. There is just no denying I am, at the least, giving myself the opportunity to get more out of life.

The consistency in moods, the follow through on projects, the overall energy level. All of these are directly tied to what I would consider a marginally insane workout plan.

A lot of the time it’s difficult to see progress. It’s like wiring electrical in a new house. You know stuff is happening, but you don’t really notice results until the lights come on. Today another light came on. I think it was in the basement, but it gave me another jolt of confidence that will push me one step closer to, not only the Ironman goal, but the person I know I want to be more often.

There is no substitute for being strong in mind and body. Clear about who you are and what you want. Comfortable in your own skin and decisions. It doesn’t happen overnight, but it happens . . . if you work it.

March 29, 2013

Why Do Ironman?

So, Racer K came out of nowhere and raised the bar for this blog and our training. Then Coach confessed he’s been slacking. It’s piercing honesty the world craves, and they delivered. It’s also a tough act to follow, but I certainly can’t ignore it.

I’ve never been able to come to grips with my age. No matter how hard I try, I’m always older than I think I am. Maybe that’s what keeps me young.

I started my quest for endurance last January at age 48. I couldn’t run a block. My swim was more or less a breast stroke. And my bike was hanging in the garage. Now, just over 12 months later, Ironman is looming.

I’ll racing my first Ironman in the 50-54 category. What the fuck? In 2012, the gentleman that won that age group at Wisconsin checked in at 10 hours, 17 minutes, and 19 seconds. I won’t win, but I will try, because that’s my nature.

I hear it all the time, “Wow, Ironman? That’s amazing, why would you do such a thing?” And normally, before I can formulate an answer, the person who asked has drifted back to their own problems. It’s natural, normal . . . very human. And, as silly as it sounds, I have had a real struggle with being human.

A lot of times I feel like I’ve wasted big chunks of my life chasing illusion. Something new to rub across my face while dreaming of the next conquest. And it’s easy to say Ironman is another in a long line of illusions, but it goes much deeper.

Ironman training tears at the very fiber of my being. It rips me apart and will slowly put me back together. When it’s done, I simply won’t be the same person, and that is very exciting because frankly it’s exhausting trying to be someone your not.

I played baseball for years, and every time I stepped on the field I lived in fear. Fear of failure, fear of not rising to the moment, fear of not being the best me.

In baseball you survive in isolation, even though you’re on a team. If the ball trickles through your legs or you strike out with the game on the line, you stand alone, with no one to blame. You instinctively pull your cap down to cover your eyes and drift far away from the beauty of the baseball diamond, which is now the ugliest place you can think of . . . and you never want to play again.

But it’s in your blood.

The team depends on you. You depend on you. Redemption awaits, and usually comes . . . if you show up.

The more you show up, the more people believe in you. The more you believe in yourself.

On Sunday, I showed up for my third triathlon. The fact that it was a “short” Sprint did not make it easy. Distance is relative, and my stomach churned. I fought back the only way I know . . . by pounding emotions deeper inside. Shoveling that fear into my psychological furnace and burning it for energy before the fire scalded my brain.

I filed around the edge of the pool and watched as other racers jumped into the water. I watched them swim into the snake pattern of the ropes and quietly told myself to relax. “Have fun” was the Fab 5 buzz phrase that morning and I quietly said it over and over to myself while the guy behind me rambled about some bike route he loves because it “seems like one of those roads where they would shoot car commercials.”

Shut the fuck up, man, I’m trying to have fun!

Of course, he was too, I just don’t quite know how to do it yet, but I will.

The swim was 300 meters, a fraction of my training distances, and for the first 100, I felt relaxed and alive. When I pushed off the wall toward my 5th length (of twelve), I lost my breath and sunk into swim anxiety.

I wasn’t tired, hungry for air. I pushed forward. I kept showing up. Then just before the tenth length, I decided to stop at the wall and stand on the edge to gather my bearings.

I’d never been happier to reach a swim wall and slowed to stand on the ledge. Hundreds of other athletes stood in line no more than two feet away and I wallowed in embarrassment. I worried what they would think, even though none of them knew who the fuck I was, or likely cared. But you know what? I didn’t want to be a post-race “story” that people laughed about at Cracker Barrel.

My chest felt like it might explode and I caved to the humiliation. I looked away from my fellow racers as I felt for the ledge with my foot. But I’ll be damned if there was no ledge and I sank like a ton of bricks straight to the bottom of the deep end! Now I was flailing like a baby bird trying to get my head above water, and surely the laughing stock of every triathlon party for years to come.

Somehow I sucked it up and pushed off to conquer length ten.

Eleven and twelve were no picnic. Form was gone and I slashed about like a wounded turtle. Somehow I made it to the end and found the energy to climb the ladder and run through the door into 40 degree rainy weather. What a fucking great time I was having!

I was dizzy, weak, and shivering. The trek from pool to my bike was about 40 seconds worth of running barefoot on frigid asphalt before crossing a rock garden covered with carpet.

This was a perfect example of a life situation when, in the past, I’d quickly decide to run to my car and get the hell out of there! It crossed my mind, but something inside this neural grid is changing. These are the things I want to face . . . I need to face.

While I may be getting clearer on commitments and decision making, that doesn’t mean I had a clear mind. I was absolutely flustered. I snapped my bike helmet tight, then tried putting on my Crushing Iron shirt, but it got stuck on the helmet! I tried pulling it over, but there was no chance and I was tangled inside like a monkey trying to escape a cargo net.

I took off the helmet, put on the shirt, then ran toward the bike exit hoping I was going the right direction. At least I was moving.

The bike was rather uneventful, but by mile 4 my feet were numb. Oddly, it didn’t seem to bother me and I found a comfortable groove in aero position. I was cruising at around 34 kilometers per hour (I can’t figure out how to get my speedometer language off of “Holland”) when I noticed blue hair and white knuckles as I approached a driveway. Two cyclists ahead of me whizzed by and sure enough, that big ole’ Ford LTD started pulling right into my lane. I reached for my breaks, swerved into the other lane and thought about how that little old lady was probably going to church –and how I don’t have a church– and potentially the next time she went to church I could be in a casket in front of her congregation as they dabbed her teary eyes and said it wasn’t her fault.

The roads were slick as ice from the onslaught of rain and she slammed on the breaks stopping just in time, so thankfully we didn’t have to meet in some ethereal world called “the ditch” in Murfreesboro, TN.

Ahh, so the bike ended with frozen feet and thighs, which is a great way to start a run. It was a legal shot of cortisone that took away any leg pain (real or imagined) I might have had. I labored through the run and crossed the finish line just about the time my I was warming up — which I suppose is a good sign considering I would have had about 11 more hours to go if it were an Ironman.

There is something about finishing a triathlon that does my body right. The dizziness from the pool is replaced by the sore butt on the bike and the ankle pain from the run makes you forget about your ass. It’s really a nice equation.

As usual, the race humbled me. There wasn’t much fanfare and the scenery was far from electric, but something about finishing is undeniably rewarding. You show up on a cold and rainy morning to put yourself to the test. You push yourself to the limits to see how far you can go. What you’re capable of. What life is capable of.

When people ask my why I would do Ironman, I never have a clear answer. It’s obviously the challenge and accomplishment, but I think it’s more about the journey. About how the training along the way brings out the parts of you that might normally stay buried. The confidence, the clarity, the humility. You become more comfortable with your beliefs. The commitment forces you to appreciate what’s really important and you begin to lose interest in petty distraction and “filler” that sucks energy from your true path.

About halfway through that run on Sunday, I was passing a guy wearing a beard, visor, and big toothy grin. He looked to be struggling a little and I asked him how he was doing. His smile grew even bigger and he said, “Well, if you’re gonna skip church, I can’t think of a better excuse.”

Right on, brother.

March 17, 2013

March Madness and Ironman Training

While a few of my training partners were out tackling Natchez Trace again, I was nestled in bed watching my Badgers take down the Hoosiers in the Big 10 basketball tournament. It was the 12th straight time Wisconsin has beaten Indiana.

I absolutely love Wisconsin Basketball and Football and for a while now I have been trying to figure out why. Why do I (or anyone for that matter) get so wrapped up in a sports team? It seems a little silly, but for years I have tried to loosen the connection and can’t do it.

It must have something to do with allegiance and living vicariously through what the team represents. I can definitely relate with the Badgers’ identity. They are typically referred to is scrappy, over-achievers and I am perfectly comfortable with that tag, especially when it comes to Ironman.

In sports, I think it’s important to focus on the task at hand and not get intimidated. Like in the movie Hoosiers, when Gene Hackman took a tape measure to the rim and free throw line to remind his team that the basket was the same height on the big stage as it is in their little gym back in Hinkley. The field and conditions are the same for everyone.

The other day a friend texted me in the first half of the Wisconsin/Michigan game saying, “The Badgers look terrible.” I responded with, “Yeah, until they win the game.”

Wisconsin was losing 20-17 at the half. A terrible offensive exhibition, but scored 51 in the 2nd half and won 68-59.

They key is to stick with your plan.

Swimming is swimming, biking is biking, and running is running. We do it all the time. Sure, the courses vary, but the body movements are the same. It doesn’t matter if there’s an Ironman logo on the fences and buoys, it comes down to performing. What’s in our body and mind.

The Badgers play their game no matter who they play. They work on the little things in practice, then execute them during the “race.” Are they the best team in the country, no, but they are arguably one of the most consistent over the last 10 years.

They believe in their strengths, they work on their weaknesses, and they push all the way to the finish line. It doesn’t always translate to a win, but they never go down easily.

Consider this quote from a former Michigan State player who made it to the NBA:

“People ask me what was one of the best things about going to the NBA, I laugh and joke and say I don’t have to play Wisconsin again. It’s a chess match with them. They are going to play their style. They are not deterred from what they like to do. So it’s always tough to play them. They don’t back down. They are always strong and tough and they play well together. They play within themselves. That’s what makes them a tough out whenever you see them.”
– Mateen Cleaves

Not only does that make me proud to be a Badger fan, I think there’s a great lesson there about staying true to who you are. Play within yourself, don’t back down, and you’ll be a tough out.

March 17, 2013

My New Claim To Fame

Training for an Ironman can really take a bite out of your social experience, so I guess this is how I spend my Saturday nights these days. I’ve been sitting here doing calculations for how fast I need to go to make certain times in races I have planned this year and I made an interesting discovery about my first (and only) Olympic triathlon.

The story of the race is not a pretty one, but I was trying to figure out how and where I can improve my times. My swim was absolutely horrid, 41 minutes for 1,500 meters, but the good news is, most of the swim times were 29 minutes and up, so I don’t feel quite as bad in retrospect. It really was a rough swim. Cold, rainy, and very choppy.

My bike was actually pretty strong considering it was raining the whole time and I was using cages instead of clip pedals. Time was one hour and twenty minutes for 25 miles. That’s close 19 m.p.h. I’m pretty happy with that, but think there’s a little room for improvement.

The run was very soft, but I know I can likely cut 8 minutes off of the 56 minute 10k fairly easily if I’m not such a pussy next time.

Okay, so I know you’re dying to hear the good news and why I am now thinking about giving triathlon lessons in one small, but very important niche.

As I was combing through the results for the Nashvegas triathlon, I started sorting by individual disciplines to see what the fastest times were in swim, bike, and run. That’s when it dawned on me . . . you can even sort by transition time. As I was looking at the fastest T2’s I noticed that I had the fastest transition of the day from bike to run. Thirty one seconds!

My T1 time from swim to bike was only 1:39 and it would have been much faster if I didn’t forget where my bike was.

That’s just over two minutes of transition time and if I could have just knocked a minute off that total I would have finished under 3 hours.

Note to self: let’s work on that transition, oh, and the swim and run.

Anyway, the point here is, I had a pretty crappy race, but there is a glimmer of hope in my triathlon future. And for now, I am the reigning Transition 2 King of Nashvegas Triathlon!

February 20, 2013

Swim Training

I really want swimming to be my favorite event. I have been pretty consistent at getting to the pool, but it seems like every other swim goes to hell for me. And by go to hell I mean gives me little confidence about completing the 2.4 miles.

Now, I know I will be ready and will finish the swim regardless. I did an Olympic swim in miserable conditions and was breast stroking 200 yards off shore. It took about 43 minutes (13 minutes than more than my target pace) but I made it out of the water with plenty left for the bike in run.

The one constant in my bad swims is trying to go to fast too early. It’s very difficult for me because, similar to the stationary bike, swimming in a pool just gets on my nerves sometimes. I just want it to be over. So I push and try to get out faster because the lane feels claustrophobic and I’m not a big fan of chlorine. So, I push and wind up out of breath. Unable to relax. I swim far less than I’d hoped and promise to do better the next time.

We were supposed to have a swim lesson from coach this morning at 5am. I was reticent, but made a decision to go because I need someone to correct my stroke. Unfortunately, he texted everyone last night and said he was sick, but I’d be lying if I didn’t feel relief. Still, the mornings!

It’s all about the warm up. I have to remember that. In an hour and a half swim (that’s my Ironman goal) a few minutes of light, slow, and relaxed strokes at the beginning will go a LONG ways for me. I want to get stronger, not be looking at the shore from a mile away going, “holy fuck… how will I make it?”

Drama.

I’ve made a decision that swimming will now get a higher percentage of my workout plan. I grew up running and biking. They are built into my fiber and I only have 200 days to do it with swimming. I really like being in water, but my goal is to feel completely comfortable the moment it starts. Running and biking will take care of themselves. Not being ready for the swim could break me.

Now, I realize people say you don’t lose the race in the swim, but I disagree. Less people to pass and more intensity from better racers. 15 minutes may not seem like a lot, but when you’re hoping to come in under 13 hours, that will leave a lot less margin for error on the bike and run. Just sayin…. And the debate starts now . . . .

February 19, 2013

Building for an Ironman

I believe that everything is on a continuum.

I’m not a big fan of ultimatums and don’t think people are simply one way or the other. There are at least 50 Shades of Grey. On one end is death, the other, complete aliveness. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle, and I believe that applies to training as well.

I have been striving to be completely awake. Training like never before, pushing my body to the limits in pursuit of ultimate bliss. I can honestly say that I feel better than I have in years. The workouts have been intense and often. I have been completing several of them, but not all.

The guys I’m training with are amazing inspiration. No less than 8 times I have laid in bed before a Saturday or Sunday workout and contemplated texting them with some kind of excuse. Each time I have resisted and shown up. That is because of them.

On the other hand, they are way further ahead of me and I am trying to keep up with their schedules. When I say “way further” I mean at least a year and that is a huge time frame when I look at the progress I’ve made since I started running last January.

Ironman is gonna be dicey for me. There is no question about it. I will have literally risen from the ashes in just over a year and a half to tackle one of the toughest races known to man. It is a major challenge, and I embrace every second of the pain.

But I realize that I have to do this at my pace. I am constantly thinking about Ironman and what it’s going to cross the finish line. Time is only one factor. I know that will likely be between 13 and 17 hours. I also want to do it without breaking.

Swimming, biking, and running for 13 hours was the furthest thing from my mind a year ago. Even when I finally understood what an Ironman was, I couldn’t even comprehend it. Now, I can.

At this point I believe I could complete a half Ironman. It would be torture, but I think I have it in me. That leaves 201 days to double that distance and do it in a way where I am actually happy with my time. It almost feels like I’ll need the stars to align or something, but I’m trusting the path and trusting that subtle things will change.

I need to start getting to bed and waking earlier. I need to sleep sounder and eat better. I need to build strength and confidence. I need stay focused. I need to believe.

So, when I reject workouts, I believe I am doing the right thing for my body. The last thing I want is injury or burnout. I want to build slowly, but with a tinge of pushing the boundaries. I have to build and grow. Then build and grow some more. I’m nowhere near ready, but I will be. And, the bottom line to all of this is, I really want to write a book called, “How I slept my way to an Ironman.”

January 28, 2013

Couch to 5K Progress in One Year

Today was right around the one year point from when I started my Couch to 5K with the Nashville Running Company. I am honestly shocked by how far I have come and 90% of me is putting this out there in hopes of inspiring other people to push their limits.*

Coach and Mike — This is me culminating my Couch to 5K training

I have been in a serious contemplation mode for while now and something else happened today that reminded me that life moves fast and you should spend it doing the things you love. (Or as Charles Bukowski put it, “Find the thing you love and let it kill you.”)

Around 2:00 this afternoon I found out my best friend from childhood’s father died. I was very close to his dad when I was young, but hadn’t seen him for years. I immediately felt guilty that I didn’t stop by when I was home for Christmas. Another missed opportunity in life and all the more reason to “just do it.”

I tend to beat myself up for stuff like that, but we are human and can’t do everything. That said, most of us can certainly do more than we do. Death is a powerful motivator and as you grow older the reminder comes far too often.

In reality, I have made huge strides in the last year and am following through more often. I immersed myself in becoming a healthier and better person. The catch is, often we are too close to the process and don’t realize the progress. Yes, one year ago today I couldn’t run a mile. Today I did a tempo run (with Jim pushing my ass again!) of 5 x 5 minute splits with a one minute jog between, plus a 20 minute warm up and a 30 minute cool down. Here’s the breakout:

Warm Up – 20 mins at around 9:30

1st 5 minute split pace – 7:37
2nd 5 minute split pace – 7:26
3rd 5 minute split pace – 7:18
4th 5 minute split pace – 7:25
5th 5 minute split pace – 7:47

30 Minute cool down at 8:44

Total running time around 1 hour 20 minutes.

I feel really good about that performance, especially considering we did a bike/run brick yesterday and at least two of those splits were on a legitimate hill. Next month I will be running the New Orleans Half Marathon and am pretty confident I will hit my goal of 1:45. That would be a 1/2 hour faster than I did the Country Music 1/2 last April.

As my legs burned during the cool down today, I was talking with a woman in our group about how a lot of people tell her she’s “lucky” she likes to run. And how she’s “lucky” she’s good at running. I completely understood her point because a year ago I would have told her the same thing. Not only did I hate running, I didn’t think I could do it.

The truth is, we can do almost anything we set our minds to and my mind is now set on an Ironman. I haven’t come close to swimming 2.4 miles, the most I’ve ever biked is half the distance, and I’ve never ran a marathon. But now is the time to live and push the limits of what life has to offer. It’s free and anyone can join.

* The other 10% is ego.

January 20, 2013

Spin Class Number 2

Our last spin class, Kevin almost got shanked by a female inmate. Today, was a little more under control.

In a stroke of miracle, I showed up with my video camera at 7:25 am today and Jim was digging hard in his new Crushing Iron shirt which will help us promote the documentary along the way. They turned out great and were designed and produced by my old business partner, Brian, at Creative Pig Minds Design, in Rockford, IL. He also owns a vegan brew pub (for which I made the video). The plan was to start at 7, ride an hour, then do the spin class. I started peddling at 7:30.

For the second week in a row we were joined by Allison, who has taken over the official “plus one” role if one of the Fab Five is missing. Today, she filled in for Mark and crushed two hours on the bike before joining us on the 20 minute run.

She really digs Florida and is training for the Gulf Coast Triathlon in May. I am still pondering this race, mainly do to the potentially harrowing swim in the gulf.

Daniel is nearly 100% after a mid-foot injury that sidelined him for a couple weeks. He’s also leading the Country Music Marathon training group for the East Nasties, so homey has a lot on his mind as can be seen in this revealing photo. If there were an award for most dedicated early season performer, it would likely go to Kevin. He has been steadfast on his workouts and is clearly determined to develop his bike skills. I spent half the spin class scoping out the instructor while Kevin hammered hard and focused with an intensely spiritual approach to his technique (notice the interlocking fingers). After the bike, we trekked out into one of Nashville’s most impressive wild-dog neighborhoods. Every damn house on the first block seemed to have big ass dogs chained by cruise ship docking chains laying around on the porch. But, they all seemed very nice.

The 20 minute run was nice and easy, I think around a 9:15 pace, and it was very clear to me that my leg strength has increased dramatically. Each step was a little heavy, but the typical aches and pains associated with weak knees, quads, and ankles seems to be going away. I guess sleeping in is working!

Daniel, Kevin, and Jim took their sweet time changing while Allison and I sat in the midst of a daycare rally for kids who drink a lot of coffee. The sweat dried on our crusty bodies and we critiqued people’s workouts. Eventually they walked down the hall looking like a GQ ad in motion and I thought to myself, these guys are prematurely celebrating their stardom from the soon-to-be-famous Crushing Iron documentary. The sea of children parted and 3 of the Fab 5 casually grabbed a bottled water and led us down the road to stuff our faces at the Pied Piper.

January 18, 2013

Manti Te'o and Believing in Yourself

The more I hear about this Te’o story, the more I tend to believe he was genuinely duped. I think — just like we wanted to believe his story– he wanted to believe this relationship was real. Against all logic, he kept rolling with the unthinkable twists and turns because he truly felt comfortable with the image she presented.

She said the right things. Pushed emotional buttons. And, as a Mormon, maybe it was just easier for him to be in a relationship removed from religious anxiety.

He likely had a huge pool of female possibilities on the Notre Dame campus, but was conflicted by the temptation of it all and chose to recede into a safe world of fantasy. It doesn’t make this cover-up right, but I can see how it all spiraled into a big mess he simply hoped would go away.

Regardless of the outcome, I think Te’o’s story is more proof that we can talk ourselves into anything. He wanted comfort, love and understanding so badly that he ignored blazing red flags all around him. He was all-in on this relationship and it was fueled by hope and faith.

Or maybe it was all a big cover up.

Regardless it got me thinking about the power of the mind with regard to training. How much can we talk ourselves into? How much of an affect can visualization have on our finish times? I believe a lot.

If so, how do we find the right mindset? Can we talk ourselves into confidence or does confidence drive the train? Which comes first? I kinda think it’s fluid, and like meditation, takes practice.

Some days I feel so good about a workout or have so much energy I look up qualifying times for Kona. That’s when I get this Jekyll &Hyde thing going on.

Mr. Mike Hide says, “What the fuck are you doing? You haven’t even done one Ironman yet.”

The honorable and soft spoken Dr. Michael Hyde starts calculating splits and devising ways to pay for the trip to Hawaii.

The frightening part is . . . both sides are right.

I respect Ironman more each day. While it is becoming less intimidating for some triathletes, it is still a monster quest. A year ago I couldn’t run a mile without stopping, now I’m concocting ways to blaze through 140.6? It seems as illogical as having a serious girlfriend for 3 years without meeting.

But you try to keep the faith. You want to believe you can crush it . . . or kiss it.

Consequently my Kona qualifying target time for Wisconsin would be anything under 11 hours. How ridiculous of me to even think about that kind of time, and that’s the problem . . . the more I think about it, the more I talk myself out of the possibility.

The other night I had a discussion with one of my training partners, Jim (who is looking eerily close to Einstein these days) about the intensity of the training schedule so far away from the race. I was concerned about getting too deep too fast. The last thing I want is burnout.

Jim’s been through this and knows what it takes to finish an Ironman. He’s completed two. Essentially he said he didn’t think the workouts were that difficult and asked me if I wanted to “do okay” or “crush it.”

So, like most things, it’s better to make a decision and be wrong than never make a decision. The first decision was made when I signed up for Ironman Wisconsin. The second one I have to make is, how will I approach it, with questions and doubts, or confidence?

You can’t have doubt. Te’o played at an elite level while leading Notre Dame to a 12-0 record. Then his world came crashing in just before the National Championship and he was invisible in that game. He was thinking too much. His confidence was gone. He did “okay.”

If I really pay attention to my life, I can see that confidence is built through action. By tackling fears and showing up for the tough workouts. It’s one thing to plan and plot strategy, it’s another to over think. With Ironman training, I need to believe in myself, trust the workouts, and not let my mind fall into a pattern of doubt.

Swim, bike, run.

January 13, 2013

Little Kid at the Bluebird Cafe

If you’ve ever been to Nashville or watched the new ABC show with the same name, you’ve probably heard about the Bluebird Cafe. It is a legendary music venue that seats 100 people, kicks you out if you talk during the song, and has hosted most of the world’s greatest songwriters. Tonight, I went to watch my buddy Roger steal the show.

Some of you may remember Roger as my “Wisconsin buddy in Nashville” and this story about how we both decided to change our lives on the same day. This Thursday he will take “changing his life” to the extreme. He’s packing up his guitar and moving to the Florida Keys to be a full-time musician.

It’s a bitter-sweet move for both of us. We have become very close and ran our first half marathons together. I was also there in December when he ran his first full. Roger is one of those guys who gets something in his head, sets a plan, and makes it happen. It’s very inspiring and I will miss him.

Roger is exactly the kind of person I like to surround myself with. Positive, ambitious, and determined. My Ironman training teammates are the same way and on days like today it hits home in the simplest of ways.

My training patterns are slowly but surely falling into place. I am not yet the 5am guy, but I’m routinely waking in time for 7am pre-work workouts. I have been cautious about going too far too fast with changing my sleep patterns and training. Today was a good example as they were on bikes at 7 and I showed up at 8 for spin class. But, other than a little ribbing, it was incredibly motivational to see these guys digging in. It truly reminded me of a team that was determined to do whatever it takes to win. And winning in this case could be as simple as finishing under 17 hours.

After the bike, we walked to the front door of the Y and stared into the pouring rain. After years of adulthood, my natural reaction was to think that we would just run on a treadmill, but not one of these guys blinked. They stepped through the door, put backpacks in their cars, and started running down one of Nashville’s sketchiest streets.

We jogged in silence for a while as the rain soaked our head and shoes. I admired the potential of the rundown neighborhoods I normally drive through in the dark — and as fast as possible. Today landscape was still, and almost inviting. The soft sounds of our feet prodded past the urban blight and we barely saw a soul.

It was an easy pace but East Nashville is loaded with hills. We started joking about how runners yell back to warn other runners about oncoming cars or bikes or whatever. “Car up.” “Bike up.” Then took it to the extreme.

“Puddle up.” “Mailbox up.” “Stick down.” “Bird up.” Nearly everything we saw became an obstacle.

“Street sign.” “Curb.” “Trash can.”

As we made our way back toward the Y, we realized the time was a few minutes short of the targeted 30 minutes. It was a similar moment to standing there looking at the rain. I fully expected everyone to opt for the easy way out, but the quick decision was to veer off and run a few blocks out of the way to complete the goal.

It seems simple, but I found incredible joy in that symbol of dedication. They had already been on bikes for two hours and we may have been two minutes shy of the total run time, but they decided to go the distance and I guess that’s a microcosm of the Ironman mentality. Finish.

I have always known that being around positive and ambitious people makes a major difference. Once again, I am seeing it first hand.

After working various printing jobs for 17 years in Nashville, Roger hasn’t lost sight of his dream and is transforming his life into that of a full-time musician. Jim, Daniel, Kevin, Mark and our coach, Robbie are are incredible inspiration and because of them, I am tackling something most people I talk to can’t even comprehend. The little kid in me is coming back and reality is changing thanks to the motivational forces that surround me me.