I just learned about Iram Leon & his daughter, Kiana, this morning from my Daily Good newsletter…just amazing…
I’m spending an increasing amount of time on work these days. Yes, this development is positive and I’m truly excited about my work. But since there’s a fixed number of hours in a day, I’m having to rethink my training sessions. I’m trying to figure out how to focus more on quality than quantity. Others already know how to do this, and I hope to learn from them.
Again I know in my heart and head that this is a very good chapter I’ve begun. I’ve expanded my world to include my career. I’m meeting with various vendors, networking, taking a couple of courses, collaborating with different specialists and next month I’ll attend a trade show. I’m setting non-triathlon-related goals and making good progress towards meeting them.
For a while I was not comfortable with this change because I felt I was shortening my special time with Noah. I’m either cutting back on the length of my training sessions and/or increasing my concentration on drills and new objectives to deliver higher quality workouts. From preparing for the session to warming up to completing the workout to cooling down to showering to returning to work has me identifying ways to shave off time and become more efficient as well. Before I had many more moments to just be in the present; to just be with Noah. Now I don’t.
However I’ve begun to realize that while my special time may be shortened and I have fewer opportunities to just be with my son, my true connection probably — hopefully? — has not been compromised. In some ways I feel like my connection has deepened even more. When I’m struggling with a climb, trying to maintain a higher pace, feeling pain somewhere in my body or thinking of stopping, he’s always right there. I don’t find myself actually initiating thoughts of him as often. His presence seems to be pervasive and constant; it’s much more natural than second nature. Many times it feels like he’s my shadow (or I’m his) and we’re one. I used to remind myself of all he went through – all of the poking, machines, pain, hunger…everything. Now what he endured during his way-to-short-of-a-life can feel like it’s seeping through my body. Sometimes I feel this in my heart, sometimes it’s an intellectual experience and many times it’s spiritual. As odd as it may sound, when I’m having to engage my legs, my core or other muscles in my body during a climb, run or even strength training I can feel him there. And of course there’s always my breathing and the beating of my heart.
Then there’s my work. While the time I spend starting my business and building my first product is very different from training, this time is about Noah too. He inspired me to start this company. I believe our training and racing will always be our very special time together but I am greatly comforted by the fact that he’s still very much with me as I work on my — OUR — company.
In a twisted way I was fortunate to have a great amount of time to spend with Noah over the past two years as I trained and raced. (I know! What an odd statement! All of these words should not be in the same sentence when talking about time after losing a loved one, should they?!) I definitely miss this. However, in many ways I do think he’s so much more a part of me and my daily life. I love you, Noah.
—You can follow I Tri 4 You on Facebook.—
One of Nike’s inspirational ads from 2010. This video is amazing, and I love working out to the song, “First Breath After Coma,” by Explosions in the Sky.
And here’s another awesome Nike ad. Watching it makes me look forward to waking up at 4:30 in the morning! The song is “Rock N Roll Ain’t Nose Pollution” by AC/DC. I haven’t worked out to it yet. I don’t think AC/DC is available on iTunes, actually. However I downloaded a version by Roxanne Morgentern and can’t wait to play it during my next workout!
I love the narration in this commercial; chock-full of inspiration.
My absolute favorite line is: “Maybe strong is just what you have left when you’ve used up all your weak.”
This is what digging really deep down inside is all about, isn’t it?
Last Thursday we had awesome weather with a high in the 60s and lots of sun. So for the first time this season I rode outside.
I admit I’m not the most comfortable riding in traffic. I realize I can’t let this prevent me from spending time on the road. I need to ride outside as much as possible. I do use routes that are more or less off the (automobile) beaten path so 1.) fewer cars are around, 2.) I don’t have to stop a lot for lights, and 3.) my rides are much more quiet and peaceful.
Of course other cyclists have similar criteria for their rides which is nice. Seeing them on the road provides comfort and a sense of camaraderie. On Thursday, near my turn around point, six cyclists passed me on the other side of the road Three of them were on regular bikes and the other three were on hand cycles. After I turned around I actually ended up riding behind them for a couple of miles. I noticed that each cyclist on a regular bike was actually paired up with a hand cyclist. All seven of us approached a busy intersection as the light turned green. I could feel every single one of us picking up speed so we’d make it through the light. We succeeded. Afterwards I saw one of the cyclists had a “USO” logo on his back. With a military hospital nearby this particular route, I concluded that these six cyclists are affiliated with the military.
I already deeply admire paratriathletes. Sarah Reinersten is a poster child for this category of amazing athletes. And of course amputees compete in all types of sports. For example Amy Purdy is the world champion female adaptive snowboarder. These individuals are so inspiring to say the least. But there’s something about riding — for even just a couple of miles — with those three hand cyclists and their partners last Thursday that really moved me. As I watched these cyclists and thought about some of their circumstances I almost cried. Who knows what these folks have been through. They served our country and made tremendous sacrifices. And yet they persevere to ride, to live. And the cyclists who still have his/her legs are so selfless to accompany them along the way!
I was getting to a point where I was riding very closely behind them so I needed to make a call: do I slow down to give myself a decent amount of distance behind them or do I pass them? I knew I’d have to push myself a quite a bit more to successfully pass them. I decided to do so. As I passed them I yelled “You guys are awesome.” And because of this brief encounter on my ride, I actually felt awesome as well.