So far mocking and self loathing are doing a better job at getting me into workout mode than self pity and self loathing ever did. Still not totally in the game, but it's coming on. I'll bet one of my biggest motivators will be dropping a few pounds. Nothing will make me feel better than losing some backfat.
It snowed finally. Not really enough to want to snowboard on, and trails are not good enough to justify this years' XC ski purchase. Really all the snow did was make it so I can't mountain bike anymore. And make it feel colder than it actually is. Maybe it will keep dumping and my XC ski dreams will materialize, as will my hope to get Smarty Pants on the slopes. Student of the Month of January Smarty Pants. (proud)
January 11, 2012
December 30, 2011
Goodbye 2012!
I haven't posted since October. I could talk about why, believe me, I have excuses. But I won't trouble you. Here's to a new and improved me in 2012.
The first thing I am going to do is make a New Year's Resolution to get back to the old me. You know, the guy that doesn't jiggle when he runs and doesn't float in the water.
Now, the resolution is important because I don't believe in making resolutions. Maybe I haven't had the need in the past, or perhaps I just hate the idea of another failed promise to myself, but I despise the entire notion of New Year's resolutions. Which is why I am going to make one. I hope that the feeling of self loathing I get from doing it spurs me into action. Yes, it has come to this...
Don't try this at home, I am a trained professional. If you recall, a couple of years ago, I pledged to grow my hair until I competed in a half iron-distance race. I did it, did it, and my hair has been getting progressively shorter since courtesy of Wifey. New year, new pledge. Been there with the hair. What could I do as penance until I reach the goal of finding my lost fitness? Did the hair grow. Grow a beard? Too itchy and I look old. Denying myself of things just pisses me off. No coffee until I finish my workout? See how long that lasts. I'm weak. I couldn't think of anything to shave, grow, deny, treat, etc. that I thought would make me stick to a regimen. And I need one. NEED. Because I have really become an unmotivated sloth of a bitch-man this last year. Then it came to me, do some self-goading. It might work.
At the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2012, I am going to resolve to get into a shape that isn't round. Then I am going to have a drink, because that is what I do on New Year's. To help me with my cause I am making races my goals. Races cost money. I won't invest in entry fees and show up ill prepared. Getting my money's worth does not mean I stay out on the course longer because I suck. I've already entered the Moab spring half marathon. I sucked it last year. My first goal is to have 100% less suck this year.
But I am not sure what else to do. Maybe another marathon. Maybe LOTOJA. Maybe another half iron. I'm really considering the Moab XTERRA in June. It is a qualifier for the nationals at Snowbasin. And how I would love to qualify to race in the smaller field. So it is an evolution at this point. I'll have to see how work, funds and Wifey's training goals fit in also. But I already feel optimistic. I do know that it is going to be 50° in Ogden this weekend and I am going to go riding or running on New Year's Day.
Hell, I might even post here more regularly.
The first thing I am going to do is make a New Year's Resolution to get back to the old me. You know, the guy that doesn't jiggle when he runs and doesn't float in the water.
Now, the resolution is important because I don't believe in making resolutions. Maybe I haven't had the need in the past, or perhaps I just hate the idea of another failed promise to myself, but I despise the entire notion of New Year's resolutions. Which is why I am going to make one. I hope that the feeling of self loathing I get from doing it spurs me into action. Yes, it has come to this...
Don't try this at home, I am a trained professional. If you recall, a couple of years ago, I pledged to grow my hair until I competed in a half iron-distance race. I did it, did it, and my hair has been getting progressively shorter since courtesy of Wifey. New year, new pledge. Been there with the hair. What could I do as penance until I reach the goal of finding my lost fitness? Did the hair grow. Grow a beard? Too itchy and I look old. Denying myself of things just pisses me off. No coffee until I finish my workout? See how long that lasts. I'm weak. I couldn't think of anything to shave, grow, deny, treat, etc. that I thought would make me stick to a regimen. And I need one. NEED. Because I have really become an unmotivated sloth of a bitch-man this last year. Then it came to me, do some self-goading. It might work.
At the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2012, I am going to resolve to get into a shape that isn't round. Then I am going to have a drink, because that is what I do on New Year's. To help me with my cause I am making races my goals. Races cost money. I won't invest in entry fees and show up ill prepared. Getting my money's worth does not mean I stay out on the course longer because I suck. I've already entered the Moab spring half marathon. I sucked it last year. My first goal is to have 100% less suck this year.
But I am not sure what else to do. Maybe another marathon. Maybe LOTOJA. Maybe another half iron. I'm really considering the Moab XTERRA in June. It is a qualifier for the nationals at Snowbasin. And how I would love to qualify to race in the smaller field. So it is an evolution at this point. I'll have to see how work, funds and Wifey's training goals fit in also. But I already feel optimistic. I do know that it is going to be 50° in Ogden this weekend and I am going to go riding or running on New Year's Day.
Hell, I might even post here more regularly.
October 11, 2011
Originality
I came to grips with the fact, yes fact, that there are no more original ideas. No matter how outlandish the idea, it has been thought of. How crazy the idea, it has been wadded up and tossed llike a jumpshot into the wastebin of history.
Perfect example, preparing for a semi formal event last week someone asked if I was going to wear a tuxedo. I said no, but I might wear a Speedo. Nay, a tuxspeedo. I thought I was being clever. Yet a quick Google search proved, with nary a frightening doubt, that the tuxspeedo has been thought of, tested and hopefully perfected. Still, it was funny.
I know you'll Google it. But I don't recommend it.
September 12, 2011
I Got Nothin'
And I mean nothin'. The summer of 2011 will go down in my sporting annals as one of the worstest ever. Between summer not arriving until July, a stressful time at work and a limited exercise schedule anyway, the last few months have been difficult. I've known for a long time it was going to play out like it has, and I think mentally preparing for it has helped. Still, when I fell off the exercise wagon I fell under the wheels. And, since I like to chronicle mostly my fitness goals on this blog, I haven't had much to say.
But I think I will. I have one more week of travel coming up and then things should slow down some at work. It's also cooling off, much nicer for riding and running. Cyclocross season is almost here, but my schedule will be pretty light. Entry is almost $30 a race now, for a whole 45 minutes of pain. Too rich for me to run more than a couple of races, especially with my current level of fitness. Plus, there's always next year.
But I think I will. I have one more week of travel coming up and then things should slow down some at work. It's also cooling off, much nicer for riding and running. Cyclocross season is almost here, but my schedule will be pretty light. Entry is almost $30 a race now, for a whole 45 minutes of pain. Too rich for me to run more than a couple of races, especially with my current level of fitness. Plus, there's always next year.
August 1, 2011
I Do Stuff.
I've had a busy few weeks but I have been able to sneak in a couple of rides and runs here and there. With surprisingly good results, even.
First was the Royal Riders Century. This was a last minute entry to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute and Roy High Athletics. Two great causes, and I prefer to register for events that give back to something I believe in. And I believe in cancer research. You might say with my life. Quite amazingly, this was my first organized century ever. Normally it's just me out there with only me to talk to and my face in the wind for a hundred miles or so. But considering my condition this year, which is poor, I thought the distance would be a challenge and if I got into any trouble I could draft behind Mike. Mike has been training to ride RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) with the Air Force team, and his wife said he could have a new bike if he rolled 4k on his odometer this year. He's been riding like a fiend, devouring miles like a madman. Plus he was bringing along Angie, another first time century rider. I thought it would be a good ride to do. And I was right.
Long story short, it started out as the three of us with Mike and I trading pulls and keeping Angie out of the wind and on our wheels. As the miles wore on, our trio swelled as riders started to struggle with the distance and found the pedestrian 16 mph speed I pulled the group along at to be mostly accommodating to their sense of survival. Mike looked out for Angie and I sat on the front, where I like it. We shepherded riders along. They left aid stations when we did. Other riders came and went out the back. Michael nearly choked out a guy for trying to ride two up with him on a busy road, and I nearly choked the same guy out for riding in front of me like he was trying to take a pull and help out, but riding at 18 mph. A pace the majority in the group couldn't hold. WTF? I helped out a lady who had been dropped by her husband after his ego pulled them past us and then left her in no woman's land. He attacked something and left her in limbo, behind him and in front of me struggling to catch up. I bridged up and asked her if she just wanted to ride in the group. He finally faded and came back to us under the relentless pressure of the crushing 14.5 mph I was dragging the group at. Anyway, 6:15 later I was in and glad of it because my butt was starting to get sore. I guess that is how centuries unfold. You ride with your group and people come and go. People irritate you. I doubt this will be my last organized century.
Next was the Morgan Marathon. A new event, work was a sponsor and I won a comp entry. So, current fitness aside, I decided that since it was free, I was going to get my no-moneys worth and signed up for the full 26.2 marathon miles. I had two months to parlay marginal fitness into becoming marathon-worthy. With huge projects at work, a late spring that delayed everything and a week driving cross country, getting ready was a true challenge. Which I failed. However, I was buoyed by the confidence from the century bike ride. I knew that, at a reasonable pace, I would be okay and finish in maybe 4:30 without problems. I'd be fine.
I totally PR'd this run. That's right, personal record. Now I have only run a pair of marathons, but considering I ran the downhill Ogden Marathon in 3:53 and the ribbon candy-profile Morgan Marathon in 3:52, I am extremely pleased. And I did it with no blisters, lost toenails or gut wrenching stomach issues I am normally plagued with. Other than sore legs and feet I am none the worse for wear.
I doubt I'll ever run Ogden again, but Morgan probably. And I might even train the next time. But the problem with run training is that it isn't on a bike. And I miss biking, almost so much I could stop running and swimming, sell my road and cross bikes and just ride and race my mountain bike. I won't, but being a jack of all trades ain't easy and I'll take a PR anytime.
First was the Royal Riders Century. This was a last minute entry to benefit the Huntsman Cancer Institute and Roy High Athletics. Two great causes, and I prefer to register for events that give back to something I believe in. And I believe in cancer research. You might say with my life. Quite amazingly, this was my first organized century ever. Normally it's just me out there with only me to talk to and my face in the wind for a hundred miles or so. But considering my condition this year, which is poor, I thought the distance would be a challenge and if I got into any trouble I could draft behind Mike. Mike has been training to ride RAGBRAI (Registers Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa) with the Air Force team, and his wife said he could have a new bike if he rolled 4k on his odometer this year. He's been riding like a fiend, devouring miles like a madman. Plus he was bringing along Angie, another first time century rider. I thought it would be a good ride to do. And I was right.
Long story short, it started out as the three of us with Mike and I trading pulls and keeping Angie out of the wind and on our wheels. As the miles wore on, our trio swelled as riders started to struggle with the distance and found the pedestrian 16 mph speed I pulled the group along at to be mostly accommodating to their sense of survival. Mike looked out for Angie and I sat on the front, where I like it. We shepherded riders along. They left aid stations when we did. Other riders came and went out the back. Michael nearly choked out a guy for trying to ride two up with him on a busy road, and I nearly choked the same guy out for riding in front of me like he was trying to take a pull and help out, but riding at 18 mph. A pace the majority in the group couldn't hold. WTF? I helped out a lady who had been dropped by her husband after his ego pulled them past us and then left her in no woman's land. He attacked something and left her in limbo, behind him and in front of me struggling to catch up. I bridged up and asked her if she just wanted to ride in the group. He finally faded and came back to us under the relentless pressure of the crushing 14.5 mph I was dragging the group at. Anyway, 6:15 later I was in and glad of it because my butt was starting to get sore. I guess that is how centuries unfold. You ride with your group and people come and go. People irritate you. I doubt this will be my last organized century.
Next was the Morgan Marathon. A new event, work was a sponsor and I won a comp entry. So, current fitness aside, I decided that since it was free, I was going to get my no-moneys worth and signed up for the full 26.2 marathon miles. I had two months to parlay marginal fitness into becoming marathon-worthy. With huge projects at work, a late spring that delayed everything and a week driving cross country, getting ready was a true challenge. Which I failed. However, I was buoyed by the confidence from the century bike ride. I knew that, at a reasonable pace, I would be okay and finish in maybe 4:30 without problems. I'd be fine.
I totally PR'd this run. That's right, personal record. Now I have only run a pair of marathons, but considering I ran the downhill Ogden Marathon in 3:53 and the ribbon candy-profile Morgan Marathon in 3:52, I am extremely pleased. And I did it with no blisters, lost toenails or gut wrenching stomach issues I am normally plagued with. Other than sore legs and feet I am none the worse for wear.
I doubt I'll ever run Ogden again, but Morgan probably. And I might even train the next time. But the problem with run training is that it isn't on a bike. And I miss biking, almost so much I could stop running and swimming, sell my road and cross bikes and just ride and race my mountain bike. I won't, but being a jack of all trades ain't easy and I'll take a PR anytime.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)