Cook on High For 3 Years

On New Year's Day NBC Universal broadcasted previous years of the Hawaii Ironman World Championship all day long. When I tuned in, the 2001 championship was on, and it took me less than 30 seconds to begin weeping for the athletes -- their stories, hopes, fears, adversities, causes, pressures. I could relate to the feeling of deciding to "climb the mountain" and what it takes to persevere and empty yourself out in the process. It was exactly 5 years ago I had watched the 2004 World Championship and decided right then and there that I could climb said mountain. Three years later, on my 43^rd birthday, I finished my first Ironman – a 2.4 mile swim, 112 mile bike, and 26.2 mile run, all in succession and within 17 hours total. Steve and I both cried our eyes out when I held my arms high, pointing towards heaven, as I stepped across the Finish strong and with a smile J. Nine months of training had come down to this race and despite the grueling efforts of the day, it was a blast.

Little did I know the real work had only begun. Of all 3 sports in triathlon, swimming is by far the most technical. Sure, Michael Phelps made it look easy when he raked in 8 gold medals at the 2008 Olympics. Though it can be argued he is really a fish in human skin, even Phelps has been training for years to get to where he is.

If it's true of the greats, then it certainly follows for the rest of us mortals: the pursuit of excellence is hard work and requires unflinching, unfailing determination to reach. People will spend their two most precious commodities -- time and money -- in the hunt for this sometimes elusive virtue. Indeed, one look at a person's calendar and checkbook will speak volumes about where his/her heart truly lives.

I'm no different than anyone else. Certain things carry weight with me and this is one of them. I have no illusions about admitting when and where I need help, and becoming a good swimmer is one of those areas. I love to compete and coming out of an open water swim with the bike and run portions of the race still ahead makes it absolutely necessary to be as efficient in the water as possible.

I didn't swim competitively in grade school, high school, or college, so it's not like riding a bicycle where foundational skills were built at a very young age and can be picked up again with relative ease. Sure I had swim lessons when I was a kid, but that taught me how to survive in the water, and muscle my way from one end of the pool to the other; I learned nothing about how to move through the water like a yacht.

In January 2007 my triathlon coach gave me a baseline test to do in the water so she could measure my current swim abilities and give me workouts that would fit my goals. The swim test consisted of a 500 yard warmup (about 20 laps in a 25 yard pool), and then (10) 100 yard intervals, all-out effort, with precisely 10 seconds rest between each 100 yards. The total time (minus 90 seconds for rest time) divided by 10 would be my average time per 100, or what is also called T-pace (Threshold Pace). T-pace is a useful metric in many sports to determine the threshold at which effort shifts from aerobic to anaerobic states. The goal is to raise T-pace speed while delaying the shift as long as possible, hence producing increased performance at the same or lower efforts.

I went to the pool with some trepidation, knowing the effort would be difficult but ready to get her done. Man, I really had no idea; ignorance was heaven for a short moment. By the end of the 2^nd 100, I was in enough shock to barely note the time and move onto the next interval. By the 5^th 100, I thought I was going to pee myself in the water (permissible at 5 years of age, far less so at 42 J). Crikey, 5 MORE TO GO?? By the 8^th 100, I was thinking what Al Bundy would often say on Married With Children "God, you can't kill me now??" J

I survived…and ended up with a T-pace of 2m15s (2:15) per 100. Not bad but definitely room for improvement, especially in pursuit of Ironman. My coach said to find and get into a Masters swim program. I fought it for nearly a year. By the end of 2007 with only incremental improvements in my swim times, I finally said Uncle and found the Clayton-Shaw Park Masters, less than 15 minutes from my house.

Despite it being a pool, it was out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire J. The swim coach gave me TONS of feedback on my stroke technique, which truly did require a lot of work. But in the end it didn't matter if I was the SLOWEST swimmer in the SLOWEST lane (I was J). I was in hot pursuit of excellence and I was there to WORK. I have never said "quit" to anything in my life. My immigrant parents, who were refugees from a war, taught me the precious twin traits of perseverance and discipline. I knew if I quit the only thing that waited for me on the other side was mediocrity, status quo, the ordinariness of life, just getting by. My life has been anything but ordinary and quitting was not an option. I hung in there despite the 5:15AM swim times, lung busting sets, and routine disappointments of "I SO wish I was faster." Little did I know that in addition to a solid swim stroke, I was also cultivating much-needed patience, a sadly diminishing trait in our culture of instant GETification.

Fast forward to January 7, 2010. It's that time of year again – swim/bike/run baseline tests to gauge fitness for the coming season. That day I stood at the pool's edge, well fueled, nervous for the test knowing the brutal effort that lay ahead, but also healthily confident I would do my utmost best. 2+ years of consistent Masters swimming had produced an athlete who was 10 lbs lighter, noticeably faster in the water, and was actually showing definition in her now-45-year-old arms, shoulders, pectoral and lateral muscles, not to mention two outlines along her abs. It was hard to believe the girl in the mirror that morning was actually me J.

The test was truly hard, but all through it I held on and remained focused on the task at hand. It's supposed to be hard; that's what makes it great. At the end I turned out a 1:39 per 100 T-pace, a wild improvement over my 2:15 three years ago. I went home tired and immensely thankful for the gift of health, but also for the willingness to work and be patient that good will come out of adversity. The lure of "getting by" is a bond that tempts (and sometimes enslaves) us all. Trials in life are brought to burn those bonds away and produce the fine edges of character that only come with endurance over time.

At Masters practice, I've moved on to the next faster lane and some days it's a struggle to keep up. But I have a new goal, which is the picture at the very top. (Actually my swim coach has said 1:30 by this summer, to which I've said "Are you high?" J) But it's really me who needs to adjust the "temperature" of my goals. Everyone needs a cause greater than themselves, one worth pursuing that will not only leave you physically and mentally fit, but also spill over into other aspects of your life and create lasting, eternal rewards.

Wrecked For Good

Reading on the beach in Alaska at midnight J.

I haven't posted in over a year, the last update being about the beginning of the previous season in January 2009 with a bike test. That time of year has come around again for the annual swim/bike/run baseline tests - the chance to come dreadfully close to hurling my guts up while maintaining as high an effort as possible in each of the three disciplines of triathlon. Though daunting, these tests form the basis of training goals each season and provide an accurate point of reference, but one that is meant to be left behind as performance gradually improves over the months.

To be honest, 2009 was a year fraught with challenges, all of them good (the only kind really, in my book). In January I finally bit the bullet and struck out on my own in my career field of telecommunications, launching my own company, Creation Telecom Services, LLC (http://creationtelecomservices.com/). Business landed immediately on our doorstep, both an upside and downside to hanging out my own shingle. It meant I had work to do and fun people to do it with, highly desirable especially in today's economic times. It also caught me off guard, as I had actually planned on calling ALL my former customers to let them know of my new role, and figured I would be doing so for at least the first 6 months of being in business. A consultant's currency is his/her relationships with clients and this is something I've had to cultivate like a rare rose; it takes time, consistency, perseverance, and patience. Neglecting any of these puts any business on the express route to its eventual demise.

Which brings me back around to the subject of triathlon. In addition to the business challenges we've faced this year, I've also been plagued with training injuries. It started with a small twinge in my knee in April's St. Louis Half Marathon that eventually progressed to full-on Illiotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS), a condition of the knee or hip that makes it nearly impossible to run for long without severe pain around the affected area. This sidelined my running for several weeks, but miraculously I was able to rest and hold onto enough fitness to score several Personal Records in a few races such as Memphis in May (finishing 2^nd in my Age Group on the bike and beating my own course record by nearly 20 minutes), and a local Olympic distance race where I averaged over 20mph on the bike and still finished 4^th in my Age Group despite some faster runners in the same category.

Some solid and consistent physical therapy eventually repaired my knee/hip, and I resumed running and training for a last local triathlon in October whose course I knew well. I kept the heroics to a minimum on the run and ended up finishing 3^rd in my Age Group, 2^nd on the bike. I was happy with my season, especially in light of my injuries. The training/racing/hurting chapter of 2009 came to a close…or so I thought.

One early fall day in October, I was out running with my friend Debbie who's a marathon superstar. We had biked a couple hours and decided to go for an easy 30 minute run afterward, nothing fancy. 20 minutes in I had to stop due to a sharp pain on the top of my right toes; it hurt just to walk back to the car.

The next day an X-ray at the podiatrist's office revealed a stress fracture on the 3^rd metatarsal, a small crack in the bone that could result in a complete break if not treated. Even my untrained eye could see the line on the film. Diagnosis: a boot-cast and NO running for at least 8 weeks. I laughed out loud and the doctor thought I was positively nuts. What now? What else could go awry? Is God trying to get my attention, and well, I'm just not getting it? Tough personal reflection swirled in my mind as I searched my heart. Eventually I came to the inevitable question: am I wrecked for good?

The truth is Yes I am, but not necessarily in the way one might think. A profound change happened to me 17 years ago when I recognized the real reason God entered our world as Jesus Christ. Throughout my life I have had no difficulty believing in God. It's hard to miss His mark in the innumerable stars that are visible from a clear sky in the mountains of Yellowstone, or the look in a child's eyes when she holds her hands up to her father to pick her up, or the searing loss of a loved one who departed this world too soon. Whether we love Him or outright hate Him, God exists; even our resentment and sorrow is ultimately directed at Him. There is simply too much evidence in nature as well as in our own hearts that cannot be disproven despite our best efforts to deny His presence.

The uncomfortable truth of the matter is that on my own there is nothing I can do to be good enough to satisfy God's perfect standard. I often hear people say (and used to say it myself) "I don't think God would send me to hell for doing my best." A seemingly modest statement, there is a critical flaw and it is the word my. We are fond of diminishing our brokenness by substituting our own standard of what's "good". It is tempting to think God is being harsh by requiring perfection, but in reality we all want what's fair; we scream for justice when we've been wronged. Are we willing to turn "fairness" and justice upon ourselves in the same way when we have been the wrongdoer?

Sin (let's just get that word on the table now) and evil are very real and our fallen world is proof of this. Our sins affect one another in the here and now, but ultimately all sin is against God, and God rightfully requires restitution (payment) in the same (familiar) way we do when we've been wronged. If we are infuriated at injustice, imagine God's righteous anger when He is wronged countless times in one day, and then multiply that by billions of people and thousands of years. Because we are already fallen beings, we are declared guilty in God's holy tribunal; we are already in the red. It is a debt we cannot repay and it's bad news all around. Our unwillingness to embrace this awful truth makes it no surprise that Christianity and everything associated with it is under attack.

There is good news however, and it's better than we could possibly imagine. The purpose of Jesus Christ stepping into our world was to be the perfect substitute for our sins. He lived a perfectly sinless life and willingly went to an excruciating criminal's death an innocent man. He died in my place, literally became my sin, and God poured out His justified wrath on His own Son, sparing and forgiving me for eternity in an unimaginable gesture of love and grace. The God of the universe did for me what I could not do for myself. For anyone who embraces this beautiful truth, this is Good News indeed. In fact the word gospel means Good News. Like the day I married Steve, my heart was changed forever and I will never be the same. I am "wrecked" for good J.