Friday, September 21, 2007

Reflections on Nothing


Desire is the root of our suffering. We want things. We want relationships. We want experiences. We want to be thought of in a certain way (i.e., we're self-conscious). We want to know ourselves! The desire drives us to do, and we forget how to be, or worse yet, our doing generates even more desire. Even as we want this deeply intimate relationship with ourselves and with others, our desire gets in the way!

But we are human beings, so we must do some things. How then do we do them in a way that enhances our being without getting caught up in an ever larger cycle of desire?

What does it mean to be competitive yet be unconcerned with a result? How is it possible to let an entire day unfold before you, seemingly without control or purpose, and yet be physically capable of performing at your best?

How can I be silly and dangerous and lustful and competitive and eager and striving yet quiet in thought and grateful in purpose?

There is a new quality that I hope to be able to bring to my own training, once I start back at it next week, that I hope I can share with others. As much as I believe in structure and measurement and precision, there is another level I would like to move towards. I'm not sure just yet what it is; but it will be different than the past few years.

Training should be like meditation. In meditation we seek to let our thoughts and feelings unfold and be unjudged by ourselves so that we may come to know ourselves better and become more empathic. In training, shouldn't we be able to let our basic structure (training plan) and results unfold so that we become physically stronger so that when we are asking our bodies to perform in a racing situation, that we are able to fully let go and just let it happen?

Most training plans have you start with defining your goals. I want to do "X" time in "Y" race. That's nice, but that just sets you up for evaluating everything you do in terms of "X." And then when you do "Y" race, if "X" didn't happen, you are disappointed. I am going to try and focus on NOW, or at least just this next week, and see where I get. For awhile there, on this blog, I was setting weekly goals (albeit not that focused), and that was a good thing. I need to get back on that train, because instead of focusing on "X," I can focus on just the next week, and maybe I can even bring that to the next workout.

So I'm going to become a bit short-sighted now, even if I lay out a yearly plan. And then maybe I can become less judgmental about myself and enjoy more of the moments that I get to enjoy while I'm training.

For NothingMan, all I cared about was having the right clothing and enough nutrition to get through the day. Isn't that liberating? Isn't that how I should live my entire life? And then, you know what? I did just fine. Actually I didn't even evaluate myself. I just felt good. And that's how it needs to be.

Maybe this is all just a grand excuse to not work hard. But I doubt it. I think I am ready to work hard, but only because I want to WORK HARD RIGHT NOW. I refuse to have some big "X" hanging over my head.

Monday, September 17, 2007

NothingMan 2007 Report

It was only appropriate to call this NothingMan. Here is a philosophical discussion of nothing, which fits the spirit of what we did perfectly. This quote represents NothingMan perfectly: Nothing, in short, is given only in relation to what is, and even the idea of nothing requires a thinker to sustain it. If we want to encounter it an sich, we have to try harder that that.

Please also see the previous post, which partially captures how I felt during the day.

Date: Saturday, September 15, 2007

Race Fee: Nothing

Start Time: As close to 6:00AM as possible

Participants: Jostein Alvestad, Age 37. This was his first Ironman!

Sheila Plemich, Age 50. This was my 10th Ironman.

Race Photos: On Flickr

Race Course

  • Swim at Lussier Family East YMCA Pool (25-yard). Originally we had hoped to swim in Lake Wingra, but with the morning temperature predicted to be low 30’s, we opted to swim in a pool rather than risk hypothermia.
  • Bike beginning at Wingra Park, southwest to Seminole Highway, then south to Whalen Road, connecting to Ironman Wisconsin bike course and completing the out and back section, 2 loops clockwise, and then back the way we came. We started here because it was where we would run, so our cars became our transition area.
  • Run at Wingra Park, 59 counterclockwise loops (as measured by Jostein the week prior, using an official race course measuring device). Basically, we ran from the end of the parking lot to the Boat House along the paved path, left along the lake (now we are on grass), left along the fence and around (not up) the hill, along the white line for the soccer field, outside around the next oak tree, back on the paved bike path, left back onto the grass at the little hump, straight along a berm over one grate and a small hump filled with mushrooms, ending back at the picnic table (our aid station) closest to where we parked our cars. If you click on the Google Maps link, you can sort of trace it.

Unofficial Timing

  • Swim 2.4 miles: 1:12
  • Bike 104 miles: 6:35 (yes, we were a bit short of 112, but this was close enough)
  • Run 26.2 miles: 5:0?—Jostein, 5:19—Sheila. This time includes stopping to add clothes as the temperature dropped, getting our flashlights when it got dark, busting open some glow necklaces and putting them on, potty breaks, stopping to count beads on our necklaces and miscellaneous stoppages.
  • Elapsed Time: 16 hours on the nose. Why? Driving, setting up bikes, stopping for fluids and food, a few phone calls, putting away bikes, several full costume changes, setting up run transition, and generally not being in any hurry.

The Swim

I drove up to Verona on Friday, staying at the Super 8 where I had stayed the week before for Ironman Wisconsin spectating. Jostein drove up Saturday morning and had breakfast at Denny’s before driving to the Y, where I met him at about 5:30AM. It was 34 degrees outside, and we got out of our cars and hugged and began talking and getting psyched. Mostly, we wanted to get started.

Jostein had bought Under Armor and a skeleton Halloween costume thing and combined the two into a costume that he would wear while cycling, and he modeled it for me. I was totally impressed! While I had thought about doing something similarly silly, I opted not to, but I was so happy Jostein had done so.

We moseyed over near the entrance at about 5:55 waiting for the doors to open. There was a girl at the front desk that didn’t look too happy. Meanwhile, Jostein and I are bouncing off the walls outside because we are loaded with calories and ready to hit it! We both noticed that the clock inside was slow by a couple of minutes.

Finally, they let us in. I had my Y pass from back home, so there was no issue with me getting in, and I figured they’d let me guest Jostein in. But an older woman came over and said he couldn’t get in, and I don’t remember exactly what I did, but I got a bit emotional because they had to let him in, you know? I would have cried if it became necessary. Later in the day while biking, Jostein said I was pretty convincing. At that point, we didn’t really have other options, so I guess some rules were bent, Jostein paid $12 and we were in.

We got on the pool deck, took a few pictures, and I looked at Jostein and asked him if he’d beat me up a bit because otherwise it wouldn’t feel like an Ironman swim. He knew what I meant, and we both laughed, but we had nothing to do, so we both got in the water, and I said, “Ready? GO!” And that was it, and we were swimming. The lanes at this pool were double wides, so it was almost like swimming in open water. We had told the lifeguard that we’d be swimming 2.4 miles straight—not sure why—mostly, I guess so that he would keep others away from us. He told us that there wouldn’t be anything going on for a few hours, so no worries.

All I remember from the swim is that it seemed to go faster than any other time I’ve swum the entire distance. I felt completely at ease, totally inside my own head, and I didn’t have any stray thoughts about getting hit or kicked, about other stupid chores I had to do, about the fact that it was pretty cold out and we were going to be riding our bikes. Nothing! I just counted laps and kept going. My left arm was a little bothersome (brachioradialis strain, if you must know), as it has been for about 4 weeks now, but I don’t think it affected my stroke. Not like I have a great stroke anyway! But I felt good in the water, and didn’t feel at all labored.

Jostein stopped a few times to sip from a water bottle, and I thought he was laughing at me, but maybe not. I didn’t want to stop, because, well, why would I? Finally, he was done (I expected him to finish well ahead of me), and I had 100 yds. to go, or so I thought. I don’t know if I counted properly or not. Jostein said I overdid it. At any rate, we agreed that our time was 1:12. That’s the fastest I’ve swum the distance in 2 years! But no time to be excited—we needed to get our transition on.

T1

We had brought our cycling clothes into the Y so we could get completely dry before heading back out into the cold. We threw our swim stuff into our cars and took off, Jostein leading the way. He used to live in the Madison area, so he wanted to take a back route to get to Wingra Park. It was a nice, scenic route around Lake Monona, and I smiled thinking about the actual Ironman course. It was a crystal clear sky and the winds were calm, and it was really a beautiful day, albeit chilly.

We arrived at Wingra Park and began preparing our bikes and our remaining gear for the trip. I decided I’d wear my Giordana jacket I’d bought specifically for a cycling trip next spring instead of the windbreaker, as it was still quite cold, but I stuck with my Castelli wind stopper gloves instead of the thicker gloves I had brought along. The Castelli gloves turned out to be perfect. I’m happy I got a chance to test out some gear in colder conditions, since I know I’ll be facing them next February at the Tour of California. I wore my Pearl Izumi beanie under my helmet, and PI tights and booties. I was pretty much a moving Pearl Izumi ad. I believe it was in the low 40’s when we were about ready to go.

Jostein completed his skeleton outfit with a mask and complete foot bones over his booties! As you can see in the photos, he was quite the sight!

The Bike

We took off at 8:45 (for a 1:15 T1 time) and we got a little bit lost, but good thing I’m a girl and not afraid to ask for directions. I asked a local guy how to get to Seminole, and turns out we were very close, so we got back on track and began our ride. It seemed like right away we were climbing. Jostein was wearing the mask initially, and I got a kick out of watching oncoming traffic craning their necks to look at him! I had told Jostein to plan on about 7 hours of riding time. He had ridden the loop of the IMWI course once around, and I found out en route that this would be his first 100+ mile ride!

I felt really heavy on my bike because I was carrying 2 bottles of Infinit plus 2 extra bottles of water in my jacket and a third on the seat tube and just all the clothing I had on. But, there was nothing to do about it but keep going.

Our first official stop was at the Kwik Trip in Mount Horeb. I just needed to refill my water bottle, but Jostein bought some food and offered me some chocolate and string cheese. Turns out that was a good thing! At the slow speed we were going and the fact that we were spending extra transition time and refueling time and the cool temperatures, it made sense to eat regular food in addition to our on-bike fluids. We both looked forward to the next section of the course which is relatively fun—Witte and Garfoot Roads—and it was. It was a bit odd to be out there with almost no other cyclists. Every other time I’ve been in Wisconsin this year there have been tons of them. It just added to the spirit of NothingMan.

We both agreed that the most beautiful vista of the day was while on Garfoot just after Mineral Point before the big drop. From there you can see the big valley stretched out on your right, and with a cloudless, cool day and all the rain they had had in the last few weeks, it was absolutely stunning, with the blue sky, the green grass and the yellow of the corn!

In Cross Plains, Jostein mentioned there was a new bike shop opening, and it’s called Uphill Grind, because it’s also a coffee shop, and we decided we wanted to stop there on our second loop for some espresso if they were open. It always helps to have things to look forward to, even while doing nothing!

When we were about to turn left onto Stagecoach Road, I was in front and there was a big truck behind us, but I thought I could make the turn, so I yelled at Jostein, “I’m GOING!” and I made the turn and heard the truck blare his horn. Jostein waited, and when he caught up to me he told me how close I had cut it, but I just had no sense of it and didn’t even have thoughts like, “Gee I should feel bad or scared about it,” because there was no sense in it, and I was still alive and we needed to keep riding.

The “crap,” as I like to call it (the succession of the 3 major climbs of the loop—Old Sauk Pass, Timber Lane/Bitch Hill and Midtown Road) weren’t that bad on the first loop. I had timed those climbs back in July, and when you know something really only takes a few minutes, it allows you to just relax into it. Plus I had the compact crank put on the Griffen, so I was able to just about spin up all 3 of them.

The first time through Timber Lane, we spotted some deer about to cross the road just past the jumping deer road sign! For all the times I’ve ridden this course, I have never seen deer. But there they were! They just stood there, as if they were waiting for us to pass. We both tried to get our phones out, but we fumbled with all the gear and stuff and didn’t get a picture off before the deer bounded across the road. 4 of them.

When we got to the intersection of North Nine Mound and Cross Country in Verona, my friend, Dino, who lives in Madison, called. He said he’d come out and meet us, riding the loop backwards and then joining up with us for awhile. As we continued talking and Dino kept asking me where we’d be at what time, I got a little bit tired of trying to figure it out, so I told Dino to figure it out himself and that we needed to get back on our bikes riding. At that point, I had no sense of time or math, and as happy as I was to talk to Dino, I guess I was just in my own little world with Jostein and didn’t care about anyone else. We were doing just fine without support or spectators so far.

See, there had been other people who had said they were going to come out and maybe ride part way with us or hang out for the run or whatever, but they didn’t. Jostein and I really didn’t care—in fact, a few times during the day, we were happy there was no one else to answer to! It just would have complicated things, much like Dino trying to get me to figure out how long we were going to take to get from Point A to Point B.

When we got back to downtown Verona, we stopped at the Hometown Junction park on the Military Ridge Trail to get some more water. We spent a few minutes chatting with a couple and their 2 young children who were cycling and camping. The little boy, who appeared to be no older than 8, seemed to know quite a bit about bikes, as he was commenting about Jostein’s disk wheel and he knew what tri spoke wheels are. We told them we were doing an Ironman, and I think even if a person knows what the distances are, it still sounds sort of crazy that you are just out doing it without the benefit of race support. On a cold day, all bundled up. At this point, it was maybe 50 degrees?

We soldiered on, and when we reached the turn off of Paoli Road, where you begin climbing again, I told Jostein that I always evaluate how I feel right there. I didn’t feel bad at all—a bit worn, but not bad, and my next mental goal was making it back to Mount Horeb. The stretch of Hwy G seemed to go a bit quicker on the second loop, even though the wind was picking up. 92 seemed boring the second time around. Neither one of us was able to stay aero as much as we liked because of the seams in our tights causing issues in the crotch area. Note to self: get some cycling tights with the pad built in!

The climb to Mount Horeb wasn’t bad the second time around, as it meant we’d have a nice break at the Kwik Trip. This time, I had a hankering for a turkey sandwich, so I got one for each of us, and we sat down in the sun to eat and talk. I remember sitting there, but not much about what we talked about, because, well, the day was about moving, not talking and sitting. Eventually, we got back on our bikes to enjoy Witte and Garfoot Roads one more time.

At this point, I was waving or flipping off parts of the course as we would pass through, since no matter how you slice it, the IMWI bike course is not easy if you ride the whole thing. Especially on a cold day. Especially when it’s windy. Witte Road wasn’t quite as much fun the second time around because we had a cross wind, but I sort of like cross winds, and I didn’t mind that my bike was sailing all over the road, since there wasn’t much traffic. And no other cyclists! It was like we had the whole place to ourselves, except when a car would pass.

I think it was about here that I began noticing an abundance of red cars. There was a Badger game that day, and while we were driving to Wingra Park at 8 something AM, we could see people tailgating already and bars firing up grills and kegs. So I guess I was noticing stuff that was red, and there were a lot of red cars. And people wearing red clothing.

The second time on Garfoot Road before the drop, I again said hi to the golden retriever that was laying in the front yard of the house on the right. I call him Buddy. He was in the exact same spot on the second loop as the first! Each time as I passed, I yelled, “Hi, Buddy!” to him and he just looked at me without even getting motivated to get up and pretend to chase.

When we got to Cross Plains, we saw cars parked outside Uphill Grind, so, in the mood for espresso, we stopped and went in. Well, the place was open, but not really open for business. The espresso machine was on the floor. What the heck, though, we stayed and chatted with the owners, and one young man was particularly enchanted to speak with us. I’m pretty sure both Jostein and I had motor mouths going. In retrospect, it would be entertaining to have our conversations recorded. Initially, the dude thought we were just riding the loop once, but then we said no, twice, and then we added not only that but the full Ironman course, and then we added that we swam 2.4 miles first and blah, blah, blah. I think even we couldn’t believe what we were doing that day and didn’t want to get ahead of ourselves. Eventually, we had to get going, because Dino was going to catch us and we didn’t want him to miss us because we were inside this bike shop!

As we were making our way towards the “crap,” I began wondering when/where Dino would find us. I was hoping he had to go down Old Sauk Pass so that he’d have to climb it with us! Well, we climbed it without him and then we saw him just before the turn onto Timber Lane. I think I told Dino he was lucky that he didn’t have to climb up Old Sauk, and he said something like he was happy he found us before he did! My guess is that he just stopped there and waited for us…

All 3 of us now climbed up Timber/Bitch Hill. It sucked the second time around, but again, mentally knowing it was short and that there was only one more stinking climb to do, it wasn’t that bad, but Dino dropped back, and Jostein and I rode ahead and Dino came back and showed us that he had a tire about ready to blow, and that he was heading back home down Mineral Point Road. OK, no worries, Jostein and I are fine by ourselves (as we had been all day), so we said goodbye to Dino and just kept going.

Midtown Road was where I really started to feel my legs not being too happy, but remembering back to the first time I did Ironman Wisconsin and I ended up walking up part of it, since that time I have never walked my bike while out there riding, and today was no exception. Plus, I knew that this was the last major climb, and then we’d get to Shady Oak (my favorite road on the course) and then we weren’t too long from finishing.

When we got to the intersection of Shady Oak and County PD to make the left-hand turn, Jostein was ahead of me and turned ahead of a long string of cars! This time I thought HE had cut it close, and I waited for about 5 cars to pass. When I caught back up to him, he said it was just an old lady who was afraid of cyclists (she had blared her horn just like the truck had done to me about 40 miles earlier). It was just weird that neither of us seemed phased by anything. OK, by nothing.

One last stop at Hometown Junction in Verona for water and we are heading back to Wingra Park. On the way back on Seminole, we saw a few groups of cyclists who appeared to be out for a nice afternoon ride. At that time, it was in the upper 50’s (allegedly), and pretty nice out. Jostein was still sporting bones all over his body, so he continued to draw stares from everybody!

As we got closer to finishing, we commented to one another that we’d be happy to run, as is now usually the case for me in an Ironman. Not that I’m much of a runner—just that it’d be nice to get off my bike, especially since my crotch wasn’t feeling all that great. Surprisingly, though, my feet never did hurt, and they were pretty toasty all day inside my booties. My arms were a bit sore from not riding in the aero position as much as I’d have liked. So all that would be fixed by getting off the bike.

T2

Again, we were in no hurry, as we had to put our bikes back in our cars, get our coolers out with our run nutrition, and do some clothing adjustments. Jostein left on his skeleton kit. I changed out of my cycling shorts and tights, donning a fresh pair of tights to run in. I had thought I’d change shirts, but the air was chilly, so I left on my skin-tight black shirt. Jostein said he’d keep gloves on, and initially I didn’t think I’d need any, but I had brought pink gloves to match my pink running shorts, so I put them on, and I was comfortable. I think I looked sort of like Minnie Mouse!

Jostein gave me my lap-counting necklace—he told me how proud his older son was to make them for us and how he counted out the 59 candy beads! I was really glad to have this device, because I don’t know how I could have kept track of the 59 laps, which is funny considering I didn’t have trouble counting to 168 in the pool!

I wasn’t looking at my watch, but Jostein commented that we were starting to run right at 5:00PM, which was fine, since I figured we’d be done by 10:00PM (or at least I would be done—I figured Jostein would be a lot faster than me).

The Run

There was no, “OK, GO” or anything like that—when we were both finished setting up, we just started running. My legs felt the effort of the ride, but other than that, I just wanted to get the show on the road. We had agreed we would run our own pace, and after a few laps and knowing about how long they were, I figured I could do 5 hours, maybe a bit less. When we started out, there were various people in the park doing their things.

We ran on mostly grass, and some of it was rather tall, and I think this slowed me down, even though it was soft. It also forced me to pick up my feet rather than doing my normal Ironman shuffle, so I suppose it was good. I think the circle thing got to me after about 1:30, as I got into my head that I only wanted to run for 3 hours. I even told Jostein I only wanted to run for 3 hours. Good thing he didn’t give in to my stupidity.

After about 2:20, what I figured out was that my black top was compressing my belly too much and making me feel bad, so during my second potty stop (in the Boat House—during the daylight I actually used the real bathroom!), I rolled it up so my belly was no longer compressed, and then a few laps later, I felt fine, caught up to Jostein (who had lapped me a few times), and he said he was going the distance, so right then and there I said I was, too.

I think the first time we did an unofficial “beads remaining” count (and we had to come to a dead stop to do it), Jostein had about 24 and I had 26 or something, but we agreed he had lapped me probably 3 times, so we figured Jostein had forgotten to eat one, so he did that, and then we began running together, which was great.

I remember Jostein telling me that at one point when he was running by himself that a man asked him what we were doing, and the young man said he was autistic and also had Asperger’s syndrome, and that he had been counting our laps for awhile. So I guess we had one unofficial spectator at that point! Later on, when we were running together, there were 2 women who I think had been out sailing on Lake Wingra, and they began clapping for us and cheering. I think one or the other of us had told them we were running a marathon. Then there was a guy on a bike who had closed down the Boat House, and we told him what we were doing, and he told us he’d take pictures of us the next day, but we said we wouldn’t be there, and he just told us we were doing great. So I guess if you include our brief stint with Dino, we sort of had 5 spectators. I can only imagine what some of the other people in Wingra Park were thinking as they saw us continuing to run laps, especially the way Jostein and I were dressed with these silly necklaces.

At this point, it all becomes a giant blur, but it’s good because we are running together and getting it done. As it got colder, we each stopped to go to our cars and put on more clothing. Jostein added a jacket, and I added a short sleeve shirt and felt fine. Then it got dark, and we needed to get our flashlights.

Now here’s something I’d never done—run around in the dark with a flashlight on grass that was lumpy! It was all part of the adventure! At some point, Jostein told me that everything hurt, and if it was light out I am sure you’d see that I smiled at that point, and said something like, “I know.” Yeah, it hurts, it’s supposed to hurt, and I knew it would hurt, but too bad. It was funny that even running mostly on grass that it hurt. I noticed at one point that my legs really hurt, and then they didn’t hurt so much later on. We talked about how the aches and pains would come and go and even move around. But once we had made that commitment to finish all 59 laps (whenever that was), we were going to keep going. Since I had learned about some other extreme endurance stuff that Jostein had done in the past, I had no concerns about his ability to finish this. I knew he knew that I knew he could do it.

At some point, we talked about whether I would do my 3 laps on my own or not. I knew I had to, and for some strange reason I looked forward to them. As the beads slowly whittled down to 4 laps to go for Jostein, that’s when I think I stopped feeling any pain whatsoever. We had both talked about (at some point—remember, now it’s all a big blur) how there were many times during the day when it felt like an out of body experience. Looking back, it didn’t really feel all that physical except for the moments when the legs ached on and off during the run. It just felt like this pure experience, this moving through time. It’s tough to explain, but it was really great. It was like that sensation I usually only get during an Ironman marathon, except it was all day.

On Jostein’s last lap, I had a flash that I should say something to him when he was done, but in the spirit of nothing, when we got back to the picnic table, I hugged him, and said, “Congratulations! Gimme your flashlight!” And he was done, and now I had 2 lights, and immediately I decided I was not walking the last 3 laps (about 1.5 miles), and I took off and I just ran—probably faster than I had run since the first hour. All I could think at this point was, “Make it stop,” and that the only way it would stop would be to finish the 3 laps as quickly as possible. Not that I was in any pain—I truly wasn’t—but I was ready to be done.

While I was running those last 3 laps, it was pretty surreal. I didn’t have thoughts like, “Why the hell am I doing this?” or “What’s the meaning of this?” I didn’t need any reasons all day except one: Because I choose to. I did think that there is something different about me (and Jostein) than other endurance athletes for choosing to do it this way, and maybe it was a bit extreme, but I know personally and know of other endurance freaks who go way beyond what we were doing. So I just kept perspective that for me, this was something different, and I did achieve a new mental state, and I found it to be quite good. I don’t think this means I will go chasing after something even more profound or more awakening, but then again, I never know. Years ago I said I’d never run a marathon…all I can say right now is that I have zero concerns or fears of anything, and it’s a wonderful feeling. At some level, I needed to do this—to really find out if what I have professed as my love of endurance sports is pure, and I think it is.

And then, almost as quickly as it had started, it was over. I got a hug from Jostein, and we decided what to do next. He had to drive home, but I insisted he eat something substantial, because, well, he would be hungry while driving home. He showed me his blackened big toe, which was quite the sight. I knew I had my usual blister on my right pinkie and adjacent toes. My feet were cold, as after the sun had set the grass got wet, and well, it was just cold. Our ending temperature was about 45 degrees.

We went to Laurel Tavern, had cheeseburgers, a few photos, and then Jostein left to drive home, and I headed back to my hotel in Verona. On the drive back, I felt this really nice inner peace and cracked a smile. Not a smile of pride—just one of “gee that was pretty cool.” I felt really proud of Jostein for having gone the distance his first time and very thankful that he was right there with me all day. Hell—he drove up in the morning, did an Ironman and drove home. Now that is endurance!

In a way, I felt like I should have said, “YOU ARE AN IRONMAN!” to Jostein, but in the spirit of NothingMan, I never did. Someone had left a small plush pony in a purse and some baby toy thing on the picnic table where we had our run aid station, and we decided that Jostein would take the baby toy, since he has a young baby, and I got the pony.

All these words here are but a fleeting representation of what Jostein and I did. Any of you readers who know us, ask us to describe it in person sometime. I have a feeling all you will get is a big smile.

I can’t wait to watch Jostein do Ironman Wisconsin next year. It will be easy for him!

Sunday, September 16, 2007

NothingMan--Initial Thoughts


While I sit here debating on whether or not to write a report, I will leave you with this:

Smith: Why, Mr. Anderson, why? Why, why do you do it? Why, why get up? Why keep fighting? Do you believe you're fighting for something, for more than your survival? Can you tell me what it is, do you even know? Is it freedom or truth, perhaps peace - could it be for love? Illusions, Mr. Anderson, vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself. Although, only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson, you must know it by now! You can't win, it's pointless to keep fighting! Why, Mr. Anderson, why, why do you persist?

Neo: Because I choose to.

And that is the only reason I can give for doing NothingMan.

Think about it—would you, could you do an Ironman if you had no competition, no spectators, no volunteers, and the only thing you would walk away with was your own inner satisfaction that you had done it? No t-shirt, no medal, no corporate logo souvenirs, no online results. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with doing organized races. Sometimes I just question the reasons people give for doing them in the first place, and at some level I needed to prove to myself that it’s not about any of that external stuff to me.