Relentless pursuit of something that yields negative consequences=addiction.
Relentless pursuit of something that yields positive consequences=passion.
It is amusing to me how I rarely want to journal or put my thoughts to keyboard quite as strongly as when I am training and racing. There is something about extreme physical efforts that primes my mental pump and gets me flowing.
I retired from racing triathlons after completing Kona 2016. There were a host of reasons for this, but the primary reason was my promotion to Flag officer in the navy and all that would entail. Teresa and I closed our little niche business and moved on to the next chapter. I still remember running down Alii Drive thinking I should really take it all in as this would be my last time down the chute at this prestigious race.
After Kona 2016, I flew back, pinned on my star in front of my closest family and friends and launched into the next chapter of my life. As awesome as it has been to reach such a profound life milestone, after a few months I let my physical fitness slide. Within 6 months I had gained weight and started feeling lethargic and fat. The last two years have been a struggle on that front.
Last summer I decided to sign up for a race I had done four times before and had always enjoyed. Oceanside 70.3 (formerly known as Ralph’s) has always been an early season race that would get me out of the Seattle rain and put me in my most natural habitat- Southern California. It has been fun training with a goal in mind again. It has been very special to have my dear buddy Paul along for the journey as he and I started this sport together and I sensed he missed it as much as I have. It has brought us even closer to each other as we compare notes on our training via text a few times each week.
The race in Oceanside went well. I swam through legit sets of waves into the sea and then stroked as hard as I could for thirty minutes swimming from the sea back into Oceanside harbor before starting the bike leg. It felt good to get out of the water running as fast as I could while at the same time stripping my wetsuit and getting ready to ride my bike. Out on the bike course, the sun continued to rise into the blue sky. I could only hear the rhythmic whirring of my disc wheel and the steady wind attenuated by my aero helmet smoothly, peacefully kissing my cheeks as I concentrated on staying rubber side down through the wet cracked and fractured asphalt on the side roads next to the freeway. I thought about all the years I have been blessed to do this sport and how grateful I am to be back right where I am supposed to be. I loved the way my legs felt as I climbed the steeper parts of the course with my breath leaving my body in a rhythm matched by the gear changes as I managed my watts to ensure I didn’t dig too deeply this early in my day.
The run was hard for me as I don’t have the fitness yet to take on 5 hour races. As I ran along as fast as I could with the majestic pacific ocean off my right shoulder, the sun now high in the sky. Races like this bring me to this thought on contentment: even though I was physically uncomfortable and later transitioned to genuine suffering, emotionally I found myself whole, wanting nothing. I love feeling my body propelling itself forward in a pattern I have felt so many times before; breathing from my belly focused on running tall, belt buckle up, strong, sure, alive!
Before I married Teresa, which has brought me my happiest years, I had this sport. At so many of these races, my buddy Paul’s wife Kaye was there cheering me on. I can hear her voice in a crowd well before I see her. Even though I never respond outwardly (karateman bleed on the inside!) her cheers always fill me with sureness and joy. This, coupled with my wife always giving me real time stats and a gauge on how I am doing, are so much a part of my whole race experience. It is one of my favorite things and always motivates me to give my absolute very best the whole way.
On Saturday, my body made it to within three miles of the finish and then I reached the edge of my fitness. From there I just had to buckle down and tough guy it in to the finish line. Better to run ugly than walk any day!
I love our sport. A few years ago I let the business side of coaching and other distractions take away from the joy of just being a triathlete. I don’t need to race anyone else. At my age, I am not interested in that. I am racing me-past and present. I am running from things as much as I am running to things. When I finish efforts like I did on Saturday I feel a calm and internal assurance that I can still trust myself when I find myself in difficulty. It takes courage for me to jump into a cold ocean and swim through big scary waves heading out to sea powered only by my own arms and legs. It takes courage and skill to go fast on wet roads on a 23mm tire and stay upright. It takes toughness and concentration to ride at the same level of energy output for 2.5 hours. It takes toughness, fitness and mental resolve to run all the way through the finish line. In all these things I have to trust just one person. I only hold one person accountable. I love the honesty of the whole thing. The question becomes- can I depend on the one person I need to depend on to get through this test at a standard I set for myself?
I again renewed that trust on Saturday. As Jimmy Buffett states in his A1A album many years ago-racing “cleans me out and then I can go on”
Relentless pursuit of something that yields positive consequences=passion.
Shaka,
Jonser
