Be the ball…

So … Visualization…

There’s a school of thought out there that much of sport is rote reflexes; that training should primarily focus on the physical. (Actually, as far as I know, I’m just making this crap up. But it’s going to sound good, so please bear with)

I’d like to turn that on its head and propose that the biggest value in training, regardless of the activity, is to build a mental database for the athlete of situations, such that the conscious mind can anticipate any potential situation. From the ability to, on a split second basis, be able to develop a theory of how an activity is going to progress, develop an execution plan, begin to carry out the plan, and to receive feedback such that the plan can be adjusted to fit conditions.

Wha? you say…

This evening, the boys are in bed, the sun is still shining, the birds are singing, and I grabbed the mountain bike to chase the last rays of day and get in a quick workout. I haven’t been actually riding singletrack much for about 5 or 6 years, so the last couple of times I’ve tried have been disastrous. But, I’ve come back with a crap-eating grin each time, so it’s not all a lost cause.

Anyhoo, tonight I had my first MTB visualization moment in about a decade. My mind eased into the zone, the deathgrip on the handlebars eased up, and I was flying, ’cause I was picturing myself flying.

The downside to visualization, though, is that it’s easy to get sucked into the vision. The ability to cope and remodel one’s theory of execution is what separates the elite athletes from, say, me…

On the next to last stretch I came to tonight, I was loving life. Spot a newly knocked down , shift the weight, and deal with it…

and the next thing I know, I’m lying on my face in the dirt. The visualization failed to catch the stick that jumped into my spokes…

Man, I love to ride…

Come on Aboard!

I’ll follow you, it won’t hurt the horse…

So, it looks like my next pair of shoes are going to be Nikes. Already went and pre-ordered and everything. “Why?” you ask.” Aren’t you an Asics guy?”

Well, yeah, and I’m just starting to break in a new pair of Gel Cumulii – the finest shoe known to man.

But, even more than being an Asics guy (and probably even more than being a runner), I’m a gadget guy, and this announcement from Apple + Nike today freed up $150 that ought to be going into my new MacBook fund. I’ve been dying for something like this:

  • Information on time, distance, calories burned and pace is stored on iPod and displayed on the screen
  • Real-time audible feedback also is provided through headphones

It’s the audible feedback that’s getting me hooked; that and the promise of having all the data handled when I sync my iPod, a workflow I’m already doing every day. Sure, it’s only 5 minutes or so that I’m saving over breaking out the HRM or Forerunner and keying in the data, but it’s also 5 minutes of not having to think about it.

Bit of advice – if you are going to order, sign up for a Nike online account – you’ll get free shipping on your next order.

So, the rest of y’all can save your money – I’ll happily pay it and see if Lance Armstrong and Paula Radcliffe are shilling for crap.Now, all I need to do is to figure out how to migrate the data from Nike+ over to BreakingTheTape.

Pshew.

Life’s been hectic as of late.

Little back-story: A couple of months ago, I sat down and thought, really thought, about where I was professionally, where I wanted to be, and fleshed out a job description that was realistic and appealing. Not the “if I win the lottery” or the “if I drop everything and spend the next couple of years back at school” job description; this was the “I’ve seen a lot of cool stuff, and know what interests me and what does not interest me” job description. Complete with consideration given for actually having a life the 14-16 hours a day I’m not at the office.

Great mental exercise if you haven’t done it lately, by the way.

Based on that, I fired off a couple of extremely targeted resumes (and by couple, I literally mean less than a half-dozen) and directly approached exactly two people. I didn’t want to shake the boat with where I was – I knew that i was in a good spot professionally, and, absent the moon-shot, I was going nowhere.

Well, boys and girls, the moon-shot paid off. I got the job; started a week ago, and it is looking like all that and the bag of chips. So, I’ve been busting the last two weeks, making sure I left the last company happy, and hitting the ground running with the new position. I’m getting somewhat back into the nuts and bytes side of engineering, which pleases me to no end, while still leveraging my MBA. Somewhat of a step up responsibility-wise, but, since I walked off the brow of USS ANNAPOLIS back in 1999, I’ve missed being “The Man”, and actually having weight on my shoulders. Give a 20-something real power and responsibility early in his life, and you’ve ruined him or her for the rest of their careers.

There was also a little matter of a trip down to Norman, Oklahoma to see my little brother graduate from Law School. Granted, the last thing the world needs is another lawyer; but if someone’s got to do it, I’m glad it’s my little bro. “Doc” (his first two initials are MD, and everyone needs a nickname) is going to be doing title law, specifically for oil and gas. He’s a runner – ran Mystic Places with me, and has done the Austin marathon several times.

The trip was unexpectedly great – Norman is every bit as cool a college town should be, and Oklahoma gave me the same vibe as Texas used to before it went all suburbia – the vibe of the possible and of community all at the same time. Did some good running, and had a great time spending a night camping in the Witchita Mountains Nat’l Wildlife Area.

I took last week off from running. Got to go to the Bluff Point trail race – saw Susan, Dianna, Michelle, and April-Anne (who completely thrilled Jake by wearing #100 and being a school teacher), and proved that my wife isn’t just a figment of my imagination. Our sitter couldn’t get off of work in time to support the race, so I didn’t run, but it was good to go huddle in the rain, and even better to see the rainbows as the sun set.

And T-Ball has been completely great. Practice was rained-out on Tuesday; we had a great time on Thursday, and a good game on Saturday. There’s a ton, ton, ton of energy on the team. If we were playing soccer, this team would be killer. As it is, I’m happy – my biggest job as a coach with these kids is to stop them from all trying to pile on the ball after it’s hit, which is infinitely superior to having to watch it dribble past the kid drawing in the dirt. And they all seem eager to get back on the field each week, which is progress towards the larger goal of giving them a life-long love of sport.

So, next week is a new week, with hopefully less life-related stress. The new job gives holidays on top of vacation – I’m looking forward to my first Memorial Day that hasn’t counted against vacation since 2001.

As an ironic aside, Missy’s been watching the help-wanted ads in the newspaper for the last few weeks. Yesterday and today, after I’ve started the new gig, there were two ads that I could have written as pie-in-the-sky jobs:

1. The New London School Board is looking for a physics teacher, specifically with an engineering background, to start a program at their magnet high school. Luckily for me, they aren’t offering any alternative certification paths…

2. The Cannondale Corp is advertising for a Mechanical Engineer with experience with composites to do frame design at their lab in Connecticut. The ad mentioned something about “passion for cycling”… I wonder if building a plywood/fiberglass/epoxy kayak counts as “experience with composites”. The downside here is that I don’t think I could pay the mortgage at the lowest salary to which Cannondale could get me to agree.

Stupid gift horses…

More than a Tasty Sandwich 2.0 – Giro D’Italia

The Giro’s underway. Paulo Salvodelli, winner of last year’s Maglia Rosa, and the heir apparent to Armstrong on Discovery, took the prologue by 11 seconds (out of an approx 8 minute ride, so pretty powerful), and is starting in pink. The Giro is in Belgium for the first couple of stages, which is kind of appropriate, as Eddy Merckx (a belgian) was the last guy to hold the Pink Jersey from start to finish of the race.  Will Salvodelli? Likely not, but there’s always a chance. Especially this year, where, given the absence of a clear favorite in any race, the whole season’s up for grabs.

In any case, check out the Web 2.0 goodness over at VeloNews’ live coverage.  The same quality play-by-play you’ve come to expect, with real-time GoogleMaps goodness including updates on the position of the peleton. My only question – will they include the location of the breaks?

Ouch… (Well, the good kind of Ouch)

Finally did it for the first time since the marathons.

Ran until I woke up sore the next day. 8.5 on Thursday. 7.5 on Friday. And Saturday was the perimeter loop with Mac, the guy who ran the Marine Corps Marathon, and Ron another guy from the unit who just happens to be our PT coordinator. Both of the guys apologized to me before the run in the event they weren’t able to keep up (the marathon thing carries a lot of weight, apparently), and proceeded to run me into the ground.

No, actually, it was a great run. We all stayed conversational, even over the steep, steep parts of the perimeter road, pushed hard, but not injury hard, and had a great time. Kind of a confessional of sorts between us, admitting that indeed, we all loved to run, and were even closet hippies in that there were times that we wished we could lose the cages and quit burning fossils for transportation. Not a bad way at all to spend an afternoon.

This morning, I woke up with the familiar tightness in the thighs, and the good tightness in the calves. Stretched a bit, stopped for a Tim’s on the way to the office, and decided to be happy with my 20 miles for the week and declare victory.

Hope everyone else had a great weekend. The first t-ball game went better than expected – only had one kid (somehow not mine – I’m still aglow as a proud father) watch a ball roll past while he was digging in the dirt, and only had one fight over who got to catch the ball. But all-in-all the kids were amazing. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. There was the whole “Can I hit first? Can I? Can I?” and the “Oooh, Oooh, can I play pitcher?”, but I count that as pretty much my fault for not making lineups ahead of time.

But I’m excited – We even started working on the concept of “backing up” the teammates – letting the guy closest have the first shot at catching the ball, and the next closest go a couple of yards (meters) behind in case the ball or the throw gets through.

Nobody got hurt, there were no tears. And, the wife remembered to go and get Snack, which, of course, is the most important part of the game!

Cliff Walk

Today I had a flashback.

Back in high school, Junior and Senior years, I had math classes for fifth period. Fifth period was always a dangerous time for me – long enough after lunch that food coma was starting to kick in, not close enough to the end of the day to have the bus as incentive to stay awake. Plus, I was good at math, and generally would work through the book in the first couple of months of class.

So, come springtime, I was bored out of my tree during fifth period.

The math classroom I’m thinking of was in a late 60’s vintage public school – low cinderblock buildings with lots of windows, and radiators along the wall. In early spring, the heat would still be running through the radiators to knock the chill off in the morning, but by afternoon, the windows would all be open to let in the breeze. With the windows came the sounds of birds playing, the sweet smell of freshly cut grass, and the coolness of the breeze.

Even better, I sat in the back row, right along the radiator. By fifth period, the sun was just beginning to come in through the window, at a shallow enough angle that I could lean back and have my whole desk in the clean light, leaving the rest of the room a dark nothing, the teacher drowned out by the hum of the radiator, and the distant rumble of the lawnmower trying to keep the honeysuckle from overrunning the schoolyard.

In other words, it was hardly my fault I’d spend most of the class dozing off, waking up only when called on, and irking the teacher to no end by being able to solve the problems on the board even when roused from REM sleep.

Today was one of those days at work. By about 3, there was no way I wasn’t going to leave early and get in a run. So, I did.

Waffled for a bit over where to go, and finally settled on the Cliff Walk. Parked at First Beach. Excellent choice – the student body of Salve Regina was out in force, with finals behind them or in progress. THe breeze was blowing, the birds were singing, and the sun beat down on my ears. Like yesterday, I set out sans anything battery powered, and ran.

Ran down to the ABC. Ran up to the Cliff Walk. Ran the cliff walk. Past Ruggles. Past the section where they’ve newly installed handrails, narrowing the path and taking away the tantalizing threat of being dashed on the rocks below (stupid lawyers). Ran the big rocks. Ran past the furthest I’d been before, and decided to run to the end.

Great choice. The miles just passed beneath my legs, and the parts where I had to scramble on glacier scoured rocks … well, they rocked.

Finally made it to the southernmost point of Acquidneck Island (Sorry – not quite the southernmost, but the farthest south on the peninsula with the spectacular mansions). The last mile before I headed back, there were college guys on rented bikes – looked like they were having a blast trying to go all singletrack on the hybrids. Proving again that the bike is an amazing machine, dependent largely on the rider.

The run back was interesting – Spent a decent time wondering if I were completely lost. Luckily, I wasn’t, and I rolled back to the car after about 7.5 miles.

Which is good – even with missing Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, I’m within spitting distance of 20 for the week. Didn’t swim or bike, but hey? Who needs the QuickieMart?
Continue reading Cliff Walk

Long Run Thursday

Man – Last night was one of those nights where everything’s about as close to perfect as it could possibly be. I got out of the office at a decent hour, had a great chat with a friend, and made it home in time to get the yard mowed.

For the record, that’s twice for the year. I know someone is going to give me grief. But, if 30 minutes pushing the mower gets me a week’s worth of happy wife, it’s a burden I’m willing to share.

After I finished the yard, there was still a decent amount of twilight left, and Hey! I was all dressed to run, and sweaty to boot. So I headed upstairs, told the boys G’night, told the wife I’d be back in time for “My Name is Earl”, and headed out to do my bit to try to be a better person.

Dunno what it was about last night – maybe it was just the results of my unintentional “taper” (I hadn’t run/biked/swam since Sunday), maybe it was just residual stress from work (he he!), maybe it was just the full onslaught of a 70 degree sunny day after two days of rain (Check out Seth Dillingham’s post. Or, maybe it’s just that I’m a runner…

In any case, I headed down towards Old Mystic, and, given the choice between River Road and a 5 miler, and Main Street on the Stonington side of the river and a longer-than-five-miler … well, Ladies and Gents, I took the long road.

No iPod. No Forerunner. No HRM. Just shoes, shorts, socks, shirt, and the music of Spring Peepers filling my ears.

Ran through Old Mystic. Ran past the hotels and resturants right off the interstate, hoping to snag folks tired of sitting in traffic on their way to Cape Cod.

Ran past the Cemetary, and wondered if it would be respectful or not to go wander about on a warm spring day, thinking about the people planted there and their roles in building my community.

Ran past the fried seafood shacks working the bugs out of the fryers for the summer.

Ran past the tumbledown wharves and piers where the people in the cemetary built the ships that carried American commerce around the world.

Ran past the Seaport where they’re trying to keep those skills alive. Saw the guy who runs the planetarium getting out of work for the evening. Wondered briefly if he marks the end of generations of navigating with the stars in an era of satellite navigation and GPS watches. I tried the celestial thing, and other than being able to find Polaris at night, and tell east from west during the day, I’m lost.

Looked across the river on a still night at slack tide and wondered if the people living in the town reflected on the water wondered about those of us living in the air.

Ran across the drawbridge and thought happy thoughts of hearing the whistle at 40 minutes past the hour from now until the end of October.

Passed the ice cream shop. Thought about stopping.

Passed the coffee shop. Thought about stopping.

Passed the pub. Was pleasantly surprised I didn’t think about stopping.

Ran up River Road. Had the debate with myself over how to go home. Passed another runner, and decided to take the long way home.

In Old Mystic, about mile 7.5, I broke down and walked a bit. Not due to being in pain, or really being out of breath. In hindsight, I don’t know quite why I walked. But I did.

Ran the last half mile, including the awful hill. Walked in with the smug sense of satisfaction that a good, long run brings.

Showered, shaved, sat on the couch with the wife.

All is well with the world.

Semi-hiatus again

Sorry y’all – Life is exciting for the next two weeks. Heck, life is exciting almost every day.

Regardless, I’m wrapped around the proverbial axis until further notice. Apologies in advance. Good stuff, though.

T-Ball practice was the greatest. 7 kids, mine was the most ornery. We’re sponsored by a funeral home. Not sure if we’ve got the black t-shirts – kind of hope so, out of morbidity. But, again, reading the kids was the key to a good practice – they get squirrley when they’re bored. Great parents, too.

Worked out a bit…

Friday, I made it out for the run to the Gazebo. 46 minutes; I’m getting slower as the month progresses. But at least I’m out there.

Billy rides again

On Saturday, I finished what is likely going to end up being the most expensive wheel change ever. Yes, boys and girls, I put knobbies back on my mountain bike. After t-ball practice, I headed out on the trails in the neighborhood. I’d hiked it a bunch, and had thought that it was too (steep, rocky, excuses, excuses) to bike on. For sure to tough to ride on my ancient Trek 930 – hard fork, hardtail.

I was wrong.

There’s not a huge space, but it’s cut through with trails by the kids with dirtbikes and four wheelers. Never thought I’d appreciate them, but they’ve got a great eye for terrain. None of the climbs were straight up grades, the turns were all good, sweeping turns. And, most surprising to me – they’d largely avoided the boggy areas. Good stuff…

So, I steer off of the road, onto the trail, and line up for the first obstacle – a pair of 6″ limbs across the path, about 10′ between them. Shouldn’t be a problem, right?

Well, it shouldn’t, but it’s been almost 5 years since I dropped in on singletrack, and the last time landed me in the hospital with a snakebite. Like, from an actual poisonous snake. I hesitate momentarily, forget to unweight the front wheel, and endo. How sweet is that?

Pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again. I cleared them on the second try.

The rest of the ride rocked – Connecticut singletrack at its finest. Plenty of babies’ heads and roots. Not a single bit of level ground in 100 acres. The beauty of approaching gloaming through the trees. I fell a couple more times, and headed back to the house fat, dumb, and happy.

Epic Run

Sunday Afternoon, we did our usual Family Swim at the Y, with Missy hitting the gym while the boys and i stave off hypothermia in the pool. On the way home, I tried another new route – cutting through Pequot Woods to add a couple of miles of trail to the run home. Talk about getting my butt kicked…

First, there was the climb up Baptist Hill out of Mystic on Route 1. The hill just keeps going, and going, and going. Then, there’s a steep downhill to the south end of Pequot woods, followed by one of the roughest trails I’ve run (Though I’m sure it’s similar to what Dianna eats for breakfast). The trail – uphill, too.

Finally, it’s over the top of Cow Hill (THe one that ate Warren’s lunch at the end of our epic), with a little bit more heading up Lamphere at the stoplight, instead of straight down to my street. Over the tip-top of Cow Hill, down Oslo, past Freeman Hathaway school, and another third of a mile of trail, and I’m spit out.

As icing on the cake, one of our neighbors who I haven’t met yet is out raking. I stop to shoot the breeze, and she lets drop that her daughter is of babysitting age. Woo Hoo!

OH – Due to fortuitous circumstances, the engagement that had me missing Bluff Point is being pushed back a month or so. With the addition of a babysitter to our bag of tricks, it looks like both Melissa and I are going to race. She’s doing 3.6; I need to register for the 7.