You never really know what you have,
until your neighbour gets a better one.
James Kelly
Hey, is it freezin' out or what? Man, the pathways are clear and newly shovelled, but when it's 42 below, it's 42 below. People always say, I'm freezing my ass off. I always wondered if you only froze half your ass off, would you run around in circles? Or, if your ass falls off on a run in the woods does anyone hear it fall?
Well, those questions may not seem too deep, but when you've been sitting around the house for days because in this weather exposed skin freezes in 9 seconds, you start to get a little goofy. Anyway, seems like yesterday it was good to be outside. Oh hey, it was yesterday.
Well maybe I'll ride the windtrainer one more time this week.
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Patience
Everything comes to those who wait,
and sooner to those who go get it.
James Kelly
They say that patience is a virtue. Well who the hell are they?
One thing that distance athletics does teach is patience. Often as not, the one who goes out fast comes home slow. Often, not always. We call it, save it up Sammy. You sorta hold back, saving your energy for the last part of the event. Hoping that you didn't hold back to the point where you can't make up the time you lost saving it up.
Great in theory, but sometimes you just gotta go hard, right to the wall. If you're always patiently waiting, you will always be watching people go by. Once in a while let her go. It's the only way your gonna know where you stand.
I don't mean put yourself in the wagon, but 'til you walk or win.
Go get what you want and be patient with those who get in your way.
Also, I want to know who Sammy is too.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Daydreams and Nightmares
To find the wind you need only to open your wings.
James Kelly
Have you ever had one of these dreams?
It's Ironman, you've just gotten out of the water in a great time. You fly through transition and head out to the bike racks. Suddenly you think you have forgotten where you parked your bike. Come on man, it's got to be right in this row. One over from the big tree when I face the lake and half way down. Now where the heck is it?
This is the point you start to do that thing when you can't find your keys. You know, second guessing the fact that you were sure you put them right there. Right beside the phone when you came in. Well, obviously someone has moved my bike, or worse taken my bike by mistake.
Now the panic sets in. Your hollerin' for your bike louder than Jurgen Zack without a helmet. It's right at the point where you're just starting to get that sick feeling that this is the day you are not going to finish, when you wake up, sweat running down your back. And you say thank you out loud. Funny how a nightmare can be a thankful thing.
I know this feeling in a small but real way. One time I got to the start line late after hitting the snooze button one too many times. I was just about to hit the beach when I realized I had left my goggles in the hotel room. This day I was fortunate and found friends standing behind the swim transition fence and one of them ran back to my room for me and brought back my goggles. Just in time for the start.
Really, how many times have you looked into that sea of faces trying to source out someone familiar and seen no one. I have one or two of these dreams before every Ironman. I like to think of them as good luck omens. I remember one such dream I emerged from T2 and was half a km into the run before realizing I was naked. That one wasn't so bad, just seemed to scare a few kids.
There is no point I am trying to make here. I just wondered if anyone else had these dreams.
James Kelly
Have you ever had one of these dreams?
It's Ironman, you've just gotten out of the water in a great time. You fly through transition and head out to the bike racks. Suddenly you think you have forgotten where you parked your bike. Come on man, it's got to be right in this row. One over from the big tree when I face the lake and half way down. Now where the heck is it?
This is the point you start to do that thing when you can't find your keys. You know, second guessing the fact that you were sure you put them right there. Right beside the phone when you came in. Well, obviously someone has moved my bike, or worse taken my bike by mistake.
Now the panic sets in. Your hollerin' for your bike louder than Jurgen Zack without a helmet. It's right at the point where you're just starting to get that sick feeling that this is the day you are not going to finish, when you wake up, sweat running down your back. And you say thank you out loud. Funny how a nightmare can be a thankful thing.
I know this feeling in a small but real way. One time I got to the start line late after hitting the snooze button one too many times. I was just about to hit the beach when I realized I had left my goggles in the hotel room. This day I was fortunate and found friends standing behind the swim transition fence and one of them ran back to my room for me and brought back my goggles. Just in time for the start.
Really, how many times have you looked into that sea of faces trying to source out someone familiar and seen no one. I have one or two of these dreams before every Ironman. I like to think of them as good luck omens. I remember one such dream I emerged from T2 and was half a km into the run before realizing I was naked. That one wasn't so bad, just seemed to scare a few kids.
There is no point I am trying to make here. I just wondered if anyone else had these dreams.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Bla Bla Bla
Sometimes, if you listen very close,
you can hear someone else talking.
James Kelly
How many times have you been out for a great day of training with a group of fellow athletes and ended up hitting the local pub? Maybe the conversation turns to training schedules. Someone has found a new coach, maybe someone has a nutritional idea.
So who's the guy, and I know there is one in every group, who, after a couple of beers, turns into the world's greatest all-seeing, all-knowing, done everything athlete? Maybe not even after a couple of beers, maybe they just start right in with a neverending litany of how many races they have done. How many times they have bonked. How many times no matter what you say, they say better?
It's like they've been sitting on the edge of their saddle all day waiting so the sound of passing cars won't interrupt the brilliance of their natter. How many times have you just given up trying to get a word in edgewise because as soon as you open you mouth, buddy's been there, done that? And how many times have you headed to the can and just kept on going out the side door?
Then the next day when the guys ask you where you got off to, you tell them your head was ringing so loudly from buddy's tirade that you didn't know you had left until you woke up the next day and there was silence.
And last but not least, who is that person, who because they have some degree in some related field, figures they can sit there and adamantly drive nutritional and training theoreries down your throat for an hour even though they have never even done a triathlon and don't have the foggiest idea what it takes to finish an Ironman let alone get to the start line?
I admit sometimes there is a good story or two to be told, and God knows that after a couple of Pil*, I myself have prattled on about something I may have thought was extremely interesting.
But if you have more than a weekends worth of tall tales that you are just itching to tell someone, anyone about, for God's sake man, write a book and leave the rest of us to our wings and beer.
*Pilsner beer. An excellent, rough and tumble Canadian brew.
you can hear someone else talking.
James Kelly
How many times have you been out for a great day of training with a group of fellow athletes and ended up hitting the local pub? Maybe the conversation turns to training schedules. Someone has found a new coach, maybe someone has a nutritional idea.
So who's the guy, and I know there is one in every group, who, after a couple of beers, turns into the world's greatest all-seeing, all-knowing, done everything athlete? Maybe not even after a couple of beers, maybe they just start right in with a neverending litany of how many races they have done. How many times they have bonked. How many times no matter what you say, they say better?
It's like they've been sitting on the edge of their saddle all day waiting so the sound of passing cars won't interrupt the brilliance of their natter. How many times have you just given up trying to get a word in edgewise because as soon as you open you mouth, buddy's been there, done that? And how many times have you headed to the can and just kept on going out the side door?
Then the next day when the guys ask you where you got off to, you tell them your head was ringing so loudly from buddy's tirade that you didn't know you had left until you woke up the next day and there was silence.
And last but not least, who is that person, who because they have some degree in some related field, figures they can sit there and adamantly drive nutritional and training theoreries down your throat for an hour even though they have never even done a triathlon and don't have the foggiest idea what it takes to finish an Ironman let alone get to the start line?
I admit sometimes there is a good story or two to be told, and God knows that after a couple of Pil*, I myself have prattled on about something I may have thought was extremely interesting.
But if you have more than a weekends worth of tall tales that you are just itching to tell someone, anyone about, for God's sake man, write a book and leave the rest of us to our wings and beer.
*Pilsner beer. An excellent, rough and tumble Canadian brew.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Where no man has gone before
Step off the path of life,
and discover the forest.
James Kelly
I grew up in a small town north of Toronto. Looking back those days play out like something out of a movie. Our home stood on an acre of land on the outskirts of town. There was a river that ran through the back yard big enough to float rafts made of pine trees cut from the miles of forest that started up right where our lawn left off. Summer days were spent building these rafts, fishing, camping or just exploring all the things that miles of untouched forest could hide.
Winter brought the ice and neverending games of hockey, and chasing rabbits through chest deep snow in the woods. There always seemed to be an adventure either real or imaginary just outside the back door.
Triathlon is a lot like that for me. It brings with it a real sense of adventure. Every training ride in the mountains, every run in the river valley and every open water swim brings back that old sense of youthful freedom and discovery.
Every race holds just enough sense of the unknown to make it an excellent way to stray from the path, to boldly go and to triumphantly return. Another story to share with friends over a couple of brewskies.
You can stay on the path if you like. It will most likely take you safely to you're journey's end.For myself, I'd rather get a few burrs caught in my coat.
and discover the forest.
James Kelly
I grew up in a small town north of Toronto. Looking back those days play out like something out of a movie. Our home stood on an acre of land on the outskirts of town. There was a river that ran through the back yard big enough to float rafts made of pine trees cut from the miles of forest that started up right where our lawn left off. Summer days were spent building these rafts, fishing, camping or just exploring all the things that miles of untouched forest could hide.
Winter brought the ice and neverending games of hockey, and chasing rabbits through chest deep snow in the woods. There always seemed to be an adventure either real or imaginary just outside the back door.
Triathlon is a lot like that for me. It brings with it a real sense of adventure. Every training ride in the mountains, every run in the river valley and every open water swim brings back that old sense of youthful freedom and discovery.
Every race holds just enough sense of the unknown to make it an excellent way to stray from the path, to boldly go and to triumphantly return. Another story to share with friends over a couple of brewskies.
You can stay on the path if you like. It will most likely take you safely to you're journey's end.For myself, I'd rather get a few burrs caught in my coat.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Dreams
When reaching for your dreams,
you may have to stand on your tippy toes.
James Kelly
I have always carried three goals with me on race day. One, what I expect to accomplish given my training. Two, what I will accept as a decent effort no matter what the day brings. Three, my dream goal. This is the day when all the planets align. The fitness, the weather, the nutrition and the mechanics.
The hardest part of any dream is recognizing when to push the envelope. How do we know that that perfect time and place is now? This is the moment you get up on your tippy toes and sprint.
Well, I guess that is what drives us to any dream point. The challenge and hope that on that perfect day we are ready and able to see the dream and meet the day.
you may have to stand on your tippy toes.
James Kelly
I have always carried three goals with me on race day. One, what I expect to accomplish given my training. Two, what I will accept as a decent effort no matter what the day brings. Three, my dream goal. This is the day when all the planets align. The fitness, the weather, the nutrition and the mechanics.
The hardest part of any dream is recognizing when to push the envelope. How do we know that that perfect time and place is now? This is the moment you get up on your tippy toes and sprint.
Well, I guess that is what drives us to any dream point. The challenge and hope that on that perfect day we are ready and able to see the dream and meet the day.
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