Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Meg At 13

What to say about Meg at 13? She enters her teen years nearly as tall as her mother, as crazy-talented like her brother, and far more creative than her father. She's moved past pink and My Little Pony and ballet to focus on theater and violin and her artwork. Sure, she gets moody and sometimes dramatic. But she is the music that keeps me moving and always brightens my day in the morning or after work. Thankful to have her in my life and continue to enjoy my time with her while she's still into hugging her Old Man.


Cindy put together Meg's party. All of Meg's favorites: Cane's Chicken, French Onion Dip, small cans of coke, vanilla ice cream, and (of course) cake. On top of putting all those pieces together and straightening the house, Cindy also made some crockpot lasagna that super double delicious.

Joined today by: My parents, my brother & Morgan, Cindy's parents, Cindy's brother plus Aunt Amy, Alex, and Tolar.


So now we have two teenagers. Liam's driving and trying to find his own edges. Meg's approaching high school and still trying her hand at as many different hobbies as possible. There are so many possibilities, for both of them.We're enjoying watching them grow up. It just happens too quickly sometimes. And has its prickly moments. But none of us are ever bored.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

The Road To Traditions - 02/22/15

 Sunday in South Mississippi finds us training and socializing. Supporting each other. Encouraging those around us. New triathletes. Old friends. Jim worked with the new folks. Going over drills and the fundamentals. Helping to get the beginners more comfortable with their form and the idea of swimming for distance. What most of the folks don't know is that open water is night and day different from the pool. My own experiences were full of struggle on ALL levels. It took me many months to find my own form, talking to myself non-stop in open water: "Be cool. Be cool! BE COOL!" Hopefully this next generation of competitors has a more pleasant experience.

At the same time, the intermediate and more advanced folks swam with Brian Harris. They worked on improving their stroke. Usually trying to maximize their "glide." Reaching. Twisting. Minimizing wasted motion. All tough stuff to master. But Brian knows what he's talking about and knows how to teach people. 

My training started much earlier. Sara Carter showed up and we swam 3 sets of 600 meters. A mile when you put them together. Odd how we both felt tight until 300 meters, then our shoulders finally relaxed. Sara's amazing. Her fourth swim in a decade (or more) and she is already doing a mile. Gonna be fun having HER chasing me down at the race.

After, the swimming clinic, Allen & JG went over transition preparation and fundamentals. Once again: minimize, minimize, minimize. An abundance of secrets and experience shared by those guys. Once the weather is sure to be cooperative, the group will move to the actual race site and we'll put those skills to the test.

Won't be long, now. Then the REAL training begins.

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Bay-Waveland Beach 10 Miler 2015

Needed a tough training session leading up to the Seaside Half Marathon next weekend. Signed up for the Bay-Waveland Beach 10 Miler. Along with about 155 friends of mine! Camaraderie, oddly non-cold temps, and a 20 mile per hour head wind. What more does a man need? Oh yeah, we'd run in on a concrete seawall. And there would only be a couple of rest stops. So if we could survive this bad boy, we could survive anything. And since there are few OFFICIAL ten mile races here in the Great State of Mississippi, it was an opportunity for the fast people (which excludes Your Humble Narrator) to get onto the record books if they had a good showing. (Spoiler: many people did!)

Unfortunately, mostly due to my poor planning, things did not go too well for me. Failed to hydrate the night before. Failed get my apparel correct. Did not wrap my right pinky toe correctly. And wore thick socks. As a result of those mistakes and the effort of running into the wind, the five mile midway point during this race felt like the 10 miles point last month in New Orleans. Then my thoughts wandered too far DURING the race and forgot to fuel properly until my tank was already down to fumes. And finally, my right toe abraded so badly that every step after mile six rubbed it raw. Contemplated walking the last three miles. But didn't. Changed my gait into more of a shuffle and managed to finish with a pace faster than this time last year.

Still managed to get into third place on the podium. (My buddy Jack placed first and now owns the fastest 10 mile  race for our age!) A bit awkward to admit, but at forty something, it was the first trophy of my life. Despite the pain and discomfort, finally getting a trophy of my own turned it into a Very Good Day. And overall, my bad personal performance made 55th out of 155 people. Almost the top third. With better planning, that would have been top 25%. But, live and learn. Won't take so many things for granted, next time.

Afterwards, a bunch of folks met at Shaggy's in The Pass. Drinks and food and comparing notes and talking about plans and remembering previous adventures.Typical stuff among the local fitness folks. Good times with good people. What more does a man need?

Sunday, February 15, 2015

The Road To Traditions - 02/15/15

Another adventurous trip down The Road To Traditions today. Our second such gathering of the year. Maybe twenty participants getting support from two local coaches. Several brand new folks. Some seasoned veterans. And many familiar faces. Always good to be around people smiling and training and helping each other and trying to be healthy. The rest of the Deep South was off doing Mardi Gras, especially D'Iberville & Pass Christian. Lots of beer, King Cake, and Moon Pies. But the rest of us were spending our afternoon swimming laps. Crazy, but true.


Started off swimming solo. Thirty six laps. 1800 meter A mile for AquaNerd. Been trying a new stroke that Dean M. suggested. A radical departure from my form of the last two years. This new one is all about a high turn over with the arms, pulling stronger with forearms, and NOT reaching or gliding. So far, much harder to do and tougher on the cardiovascular system. But this was my third attempt and have gotten up to 500 meter stretches at a time without dying. The real test will be open water swimming. And can AquaNerd maintain the form for 2.2 miles without gassing out. Not long before we find out if it works, or we fall back to the old plan.

Speaking of new, my Crossfit coach, Sara Carter, is making her first attempt at a triathlon this year. She is doing the Road To Tradition with us and has done nothing but impress me, so far. Of course she's already in GREAT shape (owning a gym and all) plus she used to be a sprinter on the swim team, in college. She's been getting in some biking and her quads are already helping push her through workouts that most folks don't try the first year. If she can run and string all three activities together, she'll give me a run for my money!

Doesn't bother me, though. BRING IT!

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Ghosts In Their Head

Painful and sad to watch somebody breakdown due to the ghosts in their head. That crippling feeling of helplessness in the face of another person hurting. One moment smiling. The next, no longer able to contain the tears.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter," they feign.

No. It is not okay. You're crying. It matters.

And silence. Awkward, uncomfortable silence. Occasionally broken by sniffling. Then those tense, bitter minutes spent cramming the pain back into its hiding place. Along with the memories. And ancient specters.

"I'm sorry."

Nothing else would matter from me, anyway. Not within my power to do anything. Anything at all. Trying would only make it worse.

These ghosts. The pain they carry. The lies we spin to try to numb ourselves. So many decades later. They still hold power over us.

And despite knowing all of this, we can't bear to let our ghosts go.

They're okay. They don't matter.

And back to pretending neither of us saw that.