“Too serious, have some fun,”
Great advice, I’ve never understood.
Life seems so elusive that way,
Relaxed, fun, easy going.
Don’t misunderstand,
I can enjoy a moment,
But it’s always a bit easier
To over do the thinking thing and
Eff ’em up just the same.

“Remember, the bike is about the view,”
Great advice, I’ve always understood,
Marathoning requiring that same focus
Biking seems to inspire.
The change of scenary
Always provding a boost
To put that doubting seriousness
Out of mind.

It’s funny, the advice my friends give.

Not up for this stuff this morning,
Sore, tired, grumpy,
The heated seat has its hold,
My friends just ran into the dark,
Sanity soothes on the radio,
And I’ve got nine minutes until
I slip into the cold wet
Of a swimming pool
To go all otter back and forth
Sucking wind and butching to myself
The whole time.
It’s quite a surprise I’m even here,
A man my age, with this energy level
Should be sleeping,
But I’m here,
Lack of everything and all.

Get it done.

I read a study today,
It basically said,
Elite endurance athletes
Think about the race,
The tactics, they cues their body is sending
While
Amateurs think about
Everything else with a drifting mind
That can’t seem to focus
On the strategy, the plan, the reason for being.

Okay, I read, even made a note
About focusing on the particulars of
Whatever it is I’m doing,
Swimming, biking, or running
Because my amateur ass won’t finish
If I let my mind wander
To all the stuff that floats
In my gray matter.

Fully aware, I made a mistake,
Sharing my intentions for an impromptu ride
One of many hours
Because what else am I going to do
On a frigid Friday afternoon when I was gifted
With a bit of free time.
Saddled up, fan on, timer going, I started.
Mr. Shelby and his brother Arthur
Made mayhem in season five.
I was struck by the religious symbolism of several scenes,
“Gotta remember to write that down, brilliant angle.”
The smell of barbecue wafted down the basement stairs
Allowing my stomach to send signals
That hunger was on its way.
Then I realized my butt was aching,
My legs were tired, the sweat was dripping hard,
Exams were over, the sauna is gross,
But it’s not as bad as the steam,
I’ll risk the dry heat. The food, the food, the food.

Seventy-minutes in, done.
A couple of hours short.

Amateur.

Shallow breathing,
When I should be kicking a little harder,
The mind says go,
Legs counter with no.
So it is this morning
With the day ahead,
Lethargic being the way,
But it’s nothing to fear,
Tired is temporary,
Some good oats,
A bit of rest,
Perhaps a book tonight, and
With any luck a run in some snow tomorrow.
The energy is rising already!

Swim, bike, run
Swim, bike, run
Swim, bike, run
My goodness,
What have I done?

The laps pile up
The pedaling never stops
And the miles
They are what they are,
An eternal pounding.

I’m loving this,
A new challenge,
Unknown distances
Greater accountiblity,
Awesomeness.

The second day
Brought new adjustments,
The wheels spun freely,
Balance returned to the challenges,
The end became clear.

Squats were finished,
The miles nearly run,
Only one month to go
Before the laps would become wet,
The fingers would ache in the cold,
And the adjustments would have to pay off
If all the hours on the bike
Would somehow get ridden.

The end became clear,
It was over,
The marathon, done,
If not physically, mentally finished,
Run the damn thing already,
Get out before the sun is up,
Before the crowds, before privacy is lost,
That all important alone time,
The hours of running without music,
Solo, only a partner to the thoughts
Coming and going
Like a quiet meditation
On a bench or in bed.

Soon the future will become foggy,
The hours of training,
Oh, those hours of training,
For what, for the challenge?
To see what is possible?
No, to know capabilities,
To get to another end,
So more fog can get in the way,
So more fog can be passed through,

So it is.

So many people,
So many places,
Everyone out there reaching for it,
Whatever that is.

One woman,
Trekking across the country,
Single-minded in her focus
To run through a tunnel.

One man,
Over booked and hostage to time
Made a decision to bail,
To keep everything intact.

Three dudes,
Different in every way, but one,
Running the streets of Philly
With goals equally as different.

I can only speak for me,
But this group inspires,
Making the early morning workouts good,
Making Philly a lot more brotherly.

New challenges are ahead,
5Ks, triathlons, life
But the best thing about each
Is we never do them alone.

Thanks to all y’all.

Rains fell in that biblical kind of way yesterday,
They cleared out just about the time
We all started to run this morning.

We kept a pace that was too fast,
I dropped back, alone, until the turn for five,
When my bud slowed and brought me along for seven.

We talked, walked, never balked,
It was the good kind of run that happens
When the pace is right and the company solid.

We mentioned emotions and mechanics,
How important they are in triathlons,
Really, in everything we do.

He and I recognized that part of the journey
Is so important, maybe even more so than,
The pace, the distance, the medals.

When we were done,
I felt alive, ready for more, and
With work what it is, today, I was off to lift.

I have a rule, never exercise angry,
That’s the ingredient for tension,
Tension is what gets me hurt.

I got to work and hit the weights,
No distractions, no waiting for equipment,
My music, it was heaven.

Until the crush of gossip information
Entered the sanctity of the glorious grind.
Someone shared “compensation” information with me.

Why should I care what others make?
Why does it matter how people act?
I’m only in control of me.

And I could feel myself losing a little control.
My heart rate went up a couple of zones,
Literally, orange if you’re counting.

The sets and reps got checked off.
An old shoulder injury reminded me that it might still be there,
But I didn’t care, anger is tough to undo. Anger will not be denied.

Guilt too, I suppose, as I talked shit to myself when I finished,
Why did you listen?
When will you grow up?

After a super cold shower, by choice, it’s supposed to help something,
The anger was broken, a new realization was upon me, and
A renewed sense of emotional and mechanical purpose had been inspired.

Listen… Don’t own…
Deadlifts rock!
I’m mostly all “growed” up.