Monday, June 19, 2006
Road to CDA 06: Weekly quote
I remember Hannes, Erin, and Rob last year. What they were, and what they have become. Hannes severely bonking in the final climb up Mt Scott on a 60 miler, Rob walking his bike. Erin, working long strenuous hours day after day...still finding a way to complete the workouts. Sometimes I would call and they are just getting to the pool, at 8 pm. It's difficult for me now to remember them as they were just 12 months ago. The athlete in all 3 of them has become is so definable when you look at them riding the hills, and running off the bike. The relentless hours they have sacrificed is hard to compare to anyone who has trained for their first Ironman.
Friends Todd and Dan. Todd, who came to me several years back at 230 pounds and told me he wanted to run a marathon. I laughed for a while, then said "lets get started". Now his first Ironman, after his first Olympic distance last Summer. With his strenuous hours and a new family, he has still found a way. Dan, his independent thinking and always pushing himself in the workouts, going beyond what is necessary at times. That's his drive. Dan will become an Ironman on heart alone.
For myself, I remember the isolation of the workouts I needed to do alone. When hammering the last hill, the final 10 miles of a TT legs on fire...glasses fogged up with tears, as I visualize reaching my goal. I woke up the other morning sweating from a dream I had. I saw the clock at 9:29.09 as I ran down the shute at CDA. It was so real, I thought I was there. It may not happen, but I will go down fighting.
I remember my first IM at CDA, drifting through the hundreds of athletes on the marathon. Floating down the final stretch, seeing Ann and my parents screaming "your top 30". My contacts were covered in debris, and I could barely make them out as unfocused images, hearing their muffled cheers echo as I passed, and lifting me up even further.
I remember the final stretch at my first Kona. The disbelief that I had actually finished that course after so much pain and suffering. Never have I had such a battle with demons wanting me to give in to the race and quit. Then, after over 11 hours in the heat and wind, I turned and saw the flood of light in that final stretch. To be completely absorbed in the overwhelming screaming of spectators, floating the final 100 meters, the incredible emotion. Vague memories of falling into Ann's arms at the finish, being carried, unlike anything in life I've experienced.
Then there's my most vivid memory, Ann in her first season last year. Ann, hammering up the final 50 meters in IM Florida, the aura of light coming off her; she was radiating achievement. The way it was pouring out of her in those final moments...that was the most incredible marathon I have ever seen. Ann found her identity that day, she became the athlete I always knew she was. I will never forget that moment.
There is no price you can place on experiences like this. Its the pursuit of these moments that drives us, the personal growth that comes with self induced suffering in pursuit of a goal. Carving out who you are, and becoming the person you know you can be.
This is the road to Coeur d' Alene. This is the road to life. Nothing defines it more than becoming an Ironman.
Friends Todd and Dan. Todd, who came to me several years back at 230 pounds and told me he wanted to run a marathon. I laughed for a while, then said "lets get started". Now his first Ironman, after his first Olympic distance last Summer. With his strenuous hours and a new family, he has still found a way. Dan, his independent thinking and always pushing himself in the workouts, going beyond what is necessary at times. That's his drive. Dan will become an Ironman on heart alone.
For myself, I remember the isolation of the workouts I needed to do alone. When hammering the last hill, the final 10 miles of a TT legs on fire...glasses fogged up with tears, as I visualize reaching my goal. I woke up the other morning sweating from a dream I had. I saw the clock at 9:29.09 as I ran down the shute at CDA. It was so real, I thought I was there. It may not happen, but I will go down fighting.
I remember my first IM at CDA, drifting through the hundreds of athletes on the marathon. Floating down the final stretch, seeing Ann and my parents screaming "your top 30". My contacts were covered in debris, and I could barely make them out as unfocused images, hearing their muffled cheers echo as I passed, and lifting me up even further.
I remember the final stretch at my first Kona. The disbelief that I had actually finished that course after so much pain and suffering. Never have I had such a battle with demons wanting me to give in to the race and quit. Then, after over 11 hours in the heat and wind, I turned and saw the flood of light in that final stretch. To be completely absorbed in the overwhelming screaming of spectators, floating the final 100 meters, the incredible emotion. Vague memories of falling into Ann's arms at the finish, being carried, unlike anything in life I've experienced.
Then there's my most vivid memory, Ann in her first season last year. Ann, hammering up the final 50 meters in IM Florida, the aura of light coming off her; she was radiating achievement. The way it was pouring out of her in those final moments...that was the most incredible marathon I have ever seen. Ann found her identity that day, she became the athlete I always knew she was. I will never forget that moment.
There is no price you can place on experiences like this. Its the pursuit of these moments that drives us, the personal growth that comes with self induced suffering in pursuit of a goal. Carving out who you are, and becoming the person you know you can be.
This is the road to Coeur d' Alene. This is the road to life. Nothing defines it more than becoming an Ironman.
