Category Archives: Sports

Fitness Friday—6/12

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6/1 M T W R F SA SU Total
S       

 

     1,800         1,800
C       

 

   55 20.7       

raceteam38

   60solo a.m.       

3:23

17.7 2,188’

3,586c

   20   135
R       

 

 walked—sore calf from swim   8.5   6.35   5 20

 

Swim—Lazy, lowest weekly total of the year.  My excuse is I’m a bit burnt from 6k of open water racing. Not terribly convincing, but I’m sticking with it.  W’s swim was in Ward Lake with the wife. Nice, inaugural, short, wetsuit free swim of the year. 

Cycling—Solid T/R rides, but Saturday’s was disappointing. I had planned to do 35 for a weekly total of 150, but it was raining, and after fixing a flat, decided to return to base. Got buzzed in Cap Forest R morning. Remote setting, totally alone, passed by a van that decided to cross over the bike lane line right in front of me. I thought he could have very easily driven me into the side of the road and left me for dead. A little later got chased by a dog in Delphi Heights. I wasn’t feeling much snap in my legs on the ride until that point. Turns out, all I need to accelerate quickly is a snarling speeding dog.

Run—Sunday’s 5 miler was fast and fun in Eugene before the Pre-Classic track meet. Three youngsters and seven-eight grizzled veterans. For some mysterious reason, the grizzled veterans tried to keep up with the youngsters. That didn’t last long. Destination was Pre’s Rock, a commemorative rock on the top of a roadside hill where Steve Prefontaine died in a car accident in the mid-70’s. Steep climb! Then we hit some great single track that apparently stretches for 20 miles. I could have lived in Eugene for a year and probably never have found the trails we were on.

Lake swimming is to lap swimming as trail running is to street running as outdoor cycling is to indoor spinning.

On the left, the world recorder holder. On the right, the author trying to hang.

On the left, the world record holder. On the right, yours truly trying to hang. (photo credit: T)

Excellence

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Two events recently made me think about excellence, what it entails and how to cultivate it. Event one was Olympia High’s final orchestra concert of the school year. I’m always blown away by their individual and collective musicianship. Event two was Sunday’s Pre(fontaine) Classic track meet in Track Town, USA, Eugene, OR. In the mile, 12 people went sub 4, an American woman ran 3:59.9 in the 1500; a shot putter went over 71 feet; a long jumper 28’8″; the 100m winner, 9.94; and on and on. 

One thing musical and athletic excellence entail is beauty. There’s something mesmerizing about watching a gifted musician embrace and bring a piece alive just as there’s something almost mystical about watching an elite middle distance East African runner pull away in the last 400 meters.

Often there’s a knowledgeable, committed, demanding coach eliciting excellent performance. Chip Schooler, the Olympia High orchestra conductor is a case in point. I don’t want to put him on a pedestal even though he does stand on one, but those students are privileged to get to work with him day in and day out.

There also has to be an intrinsic love of the activity that translates into dedication to repetitive practice. Then there’s very careful preparation for the excellent performance. One of my favorite parts of the meet was watching the pole vaulters warm up an hour before their event started. Running drills, spraying the handle of their poles, taking practice runs and flopping into the mat, stretching, hydrating, narrowing their focus.

In excellence versus equity debates, I typically advocate for equity, but they don’t have to be mutually exclusive all the time. Maybe I’ve slighted excellence out of fear that it too often produces elitism.

Fitness Friday—6/5

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The most humbling defeat of my atheltic career occurred last Sunday at the Haag Lake open water swim west of Portland. Prior to Sunday, I would have gone back forty years into the archive to an age group swim meet in some stuffy Ohio YMCA. I was seven, eight years old moving up from the 25 and 50 to the 100 free. Could I hold it together for four laps? Turned out the best eight year old in the state was in lane four and his Little League mom was yelling at him psyching him up from the opposite side. He shot me a “You make me laugh” look. I wondered if I’d fit under the starting block.

If memory serves me correctly, I was between lap two and three when he finished. This is where it got comical, in a funny sad way. After touching he hopped out, quickly toweled off, and threw his pants and shirt on before my compatriot tadpoles and I finished. He made sure we saw him in his civvies. His mom was so proud. I really hope he survived his mom and kharma didn’t bite him in the ass.

The Haag Lake open water swims were 800m, 2k, and 4k. Some people did one, some two, some all three. Cool event in a beautiful location. I decided to do the 2 and 4 because I hadn’t gone long in the water since a high school water polo team five mile fund raiser. The memory of that five miler lives on among a few friends because I began hallucinating near the end. More specifically, I saw Jesus doing backstroke next to me in a flowing white robe. Exquisite form. Anyways, I feel strongly that swimmers should go long every thirty years.

I decided not to push the 2 so I wouldn’t die in the middle of the 4. As is sometimes the case, I had major sighting problems and swam way too wide. So I was pleasantly surprised to finish in 29:02. I was hoping to go sub 30 in the 2 and 60 flat in the 4. There were so many swimmers at the finish and spectators that I couldn’t really tell how I did until logging onto the web Monday morning. As I skimmed down I saw a 75 year old six or seven places above me, David Radcliff, 75, 26:40. MISTAKE! Alert! MISTAKE! No way, Jose.

I goggled him and learned he may be the fastest 75 year old on the planet, but still, spanked by a 75 year old?! I’m used to peers running and cycling by me, but I usually hold my own in the water. Radcliff was an All-American at Berkeley, holds nearly all the US records for his age group, and was in finals of the 1500m in the Melbourne Olympics, but still spanked by a 75 year old?! I wasn’t in race mode, but even if I was, even if I had taken perfect lines all the way around, even if I had worn my translucent zoomers, he would have beaten me.

I didn’t see if he quickly shed the wetsuit and put his clothes on. 

Now that I’ve had a few days to fully digest the humble pie, I find Radcliff incredibly inspiring. If you google him you’ll find a 13 minute video interview from a May, 2009 meet where he set several records. He said he did a 6:07 for the first 500 of his 1,650! Someday I hope to be the 75 year old ruining youngsters’ races. 

Makes me wonder how much time would the world’s fastest 75 year old runner put into me in a 10k, the world’s fastest 75 year old cyclist in a 40kTT. 

I sighted better during the 4, but fought a calf cramp which cost me a little time. I also faded over the last 1500, should have eaten between the events. I finished in 1:02:59 for those scorekeeping at home.

Radcliff sat that one out. Probably didn’t deem me worthy competition.

Fitness Friday-5/29

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New wrinkle to my basic week of running, swimming, and cycling. Shari and I do 4,000 yards on Tuesday mornings at 5:45a. Shari has all the attributes of a great training partner–dependable, friendly, fast. She kicks my butt during IM sets, she kicks my butt when pulling long sets, and I regain a little dignity by nudging her out on 50 yard sprint sets. There’s one downside, Shari can be stubborn when it comes to leading out the lane. Tuesday morning, after Shari, another friend named Hobb and I completed our 1k warmup, I suggested we do 400 free followed by 4x100IM, three times. After negotiating the intervals, I said, “You lead out.” To which she replied, “No way, I’m not leading out.” So I did what you would have done in my position, I yelled at her. “Come on! I don’t want you swimming up on me, don’t be a baby, lead out!” Didn’t work because she dug her heels in and so I went to Plan B, the stare down. That lasted all of three seconds because the large, red, relentless second hand on the clock was nearning the tippy top. She won and I think I caught her doing breakstroke briefly once as she swam up on Hobb who was drafting off of me.

In other fitness news, I had a great Olympia half marathon two weekends ago. Perfect conditions, it was fun to run with two friends, and I went a few minutes faster than I thought possible. Shelly took us through the first mile in 6:55 or a good 30-40 seconds faster than I had planned. At mile 2, I politely suggested she take off and she slowly opened a gap. It took DoubleS and me a good 4 miles to recover and settle into a sustainable groove. Meanwhile, we watched Shelly get smaller in the distance. At mile 8.5 DoubleS dropped back a tiny bit and I decided to turn it up, so we parted ways. The local fishwrap had a picture of him crossing the line “In the marathon, with a time of 1:34:24” so we’ve been teasing him about his world record performance. Surprisingly, going up the hilliest stretch, I started to close the gap with Shelly. My mantra, “The hills are our friends,” was paying off. At about 11.75 miles we turned onto the main downhill drag into town and the finish line. I was 20 seconds back and told Shelly’s husband, “I’ll never catch her.” (Note: Shelly’s husband is 6’6″ and was a Pac-10 high jump champion in the early 90’s. If he finds out I was locked on his wife’s turquoise blue shorts for well over an hour this may be my last post.) Surprisingly, I caught her fairly quickly and then it was ON. Shelly is way more talented than me, but less experienced, and my pacing savvy was the difference. We pushed hard over the last mile. In the end, I beat her by 2 seconds, thus proving, once and for all, boys rule and girls drool. 

I know what you’re thinking. “Ron, you really do need some help from eastern philosophy.” But the more I think about it, the more okay I am with my momentary lapses into competitive madness. I race a few times a year. Almost every other run is done at a moderate pace with friends. We (usually) wait for one another if someone is struggling. It’s fun to compete on rare occasion, because of the contrast. Besides, it takes me back to my youth when racing—whether on foot or bicycle or by popsicle stick in the creek or hotwheels on tricked-out tracks—was a way of life.

What’s Wrong With Me?

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Here’s an email I sent two friends Monday evening after climbing Mount St. Helens on two wheels. 

74 miles, 6,590′, 4,562 cals, 17.2avg, 4:18:32. The only thing that would have made it better would have been watching the two of you pull away from me somewhere along the way. I can’t imagine better conditions, perfectly clear, 60’s, light wind. Large group, 18 I think. A group of 10 went first, then a group of 8 about 15m later. I was in the first group and we stayed together for 15-16 miles when I ATTACKED. Those capitals were meant to be a joke because I went from 8 mph to 10, but did pull away. I felt badly for the first two miles, dipping into Zone-OppsIwent toohardandnowtheresnowayIcanmaintainthis, but I did create separation and after two miles managed to find a sustainable rhythm. My advantage was having ridden 50 miles Friday-Sunday versus 200+ for alot of the maniacs in the group (J, G, R, J, KD, B, M, a few others). I glanced back on occasion and saw two people at a couple hundred meters and then no one. KD caught me somewhere around 25 in and we worked together downhill and at the start of the steep stuff near the top. I was losing a little touch, 20m, when my seat bag came undone. Took a minute to fix and that was it. She probably put another minute into me from there. So I won the men’s division and finished second overall. J and R were next, D, R, M shortly thereafter, in less than 15m, so I probably got 5th. J and M were further back, not sure why. Silly to think in terms of place, it was just nice to be alive and healthy in nature. 

Ron

The last sentence is my attempt to snap out of my western, hyper-competitive frame of mind. I’m 47, riding with friends on a beautiful Memorial day and I’m thinking more like a 27 or 37 year old in the Giro d’Italia. I want to adopt a more eastern, process oriented approach to competition, but I feel captive to my gender, peers, and history. 

Shirking Responsibility

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I wonder, is it within your nature and my nature to shirk responsibility?

Educators often complain that students don’t take sufficient responsibility for their mistakes. That shouldn’t come as a surprise because if we’re honest with ourselves, we’re slow to accept responsibility for some of our unflattering actions. Too often, instead of admitting fault and applying ourselves to resolve problems, we expend energy trying to pin mistakes on others.

Example one. A friend’s son’s team lost a close football game this season “because the ref threw the game” as a result of a “vendetta” against the firey head coach. As the poor calls built up, the other coaches and my friend went nuts, and no surprise, the players complained mightily about the outcome long after the final whistle. Youth learn more from what we do than what we say, but in this case is was a combination of what was said and done. I told my friend the coaching staff taught a powerful lesson that day. When things don’t go your way, pin it on others. 

What if they had said, “Refs are human and make mistakes. Usually they balance out. If we had played as well as we’re capable, the game wouldn’t have been that close. We will not be the type of team that pins losses on the refs. We will take responsibility for tough losses. Now go congratulate the other team and remember the lesson of this game: if you let the other team hang around, anything can happen.”

Example two. Recently some college presidents have made noise about suing the investment teams that are managing their shrinking endowments. Here’s what I’d like to ask each of these presidents. Are you kidding me? These are the same investment teams that the presidents were praising the last few years for their double digit returns. News flash, markets go down. The lesson of 2008, sometimes a lot. Unless some of the investment teams were from the Madoff school of investing, and guaranteed annual gains, the presidents need to accept endowment losses without blaming their once golden money managers. 

Example three. From a distance it appears as if the gay marriage backers who opposed Prop 8 in California didn’t like the outcome and want a do-over. I know this controversy is white-hot and complex. What I don’t understand is how can any state allow propositions of questionable constitutional quality onto the ballot in the first place? Didn’t the state election commission ask “If the proposition passes, will it run afoul of the constitution?” Assuming the election commission was competent, I believe the opponents of Prop 8 should accept the fact that 52% of voters supported it and focus their energies on reversing the decision in the next election.

NObama

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Somehow seemingly everyone already has a beef with President Elect Obama (P.E.O.) Pick your poison, Governor Blogo, Rick Warren, which type of dog to get. Add me to the list. Wish I had turned away before seeing the clip of him at the driving range in Hawaii. It was irresponsible of CNN not to forewarn the audience with a disclaimer like this. “The following footage is not appropriate for those who fancy themselves golfers. Side effects may include queasiness and an immediate spike in your handicap.” The only nice thing I can say about the P.E.O.’s swing, it’s a little bit better than Charles Barkley’s. Here’s hoping he sticks to hoops.

 

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Swim Meet Addendum

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At the Rudolph’s Plunge swim meet I also won the 50 fly, 50 back, and 50 free. The 13 year old girl who touched me out in the 50 breast looked like she was on the juice. And she left right afterwards before any samples could be collected.

I’m just sayin’.

I also was the only person disqualified in an event (200IM),  and I did it with style, actually earning a double DQ. Apparently, you’re not allowed to roll onto your stomach during backstroke turns. My excuse was I’m a triathlete. I thought I had won a Dairy Queen coupon.

Despite my victories, I was not the swimmer of the meet, not by a long shot. That honor had to go to Evelyn a 90 year old dynamo who did the 25 fly, then the 25 back, then the 25 breast, then the 25 free, then to cap it off, a 100IM. She’s beyond inspiring. Best of all, she had to leave right after swimming to get up to Seattle for a dance competition. Her partner is a young man in his early 70’s.

Evelyn is intelligent, personable, and friendly as all get out. Longevity, we’re talking triple digits, runs in her family. Given her present physical and mental health, her fitness routine, and her joy, I expect her to continue rewriting the Masters swimming record book for years to come.

Keep moving.

Damn, where did that old lady come from?

Damn, where did that old lady come from?

Natural Order Restored

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You may recall that in October my 16 year-old daughter shattered my 500 yard free time (6:21 versus 6:28). Last weekend, at the Third Annual Rudolph’s Plunge, I attempted to reclaim the title that is so integral to my identity: family’s fastest distance freestyler.

Uppity daughter couldn’t fathom that possibility so she finagled an invitation to a Seattle concert. Fortunately the other two members of my posse were among the thousands (or tens) packed into the Water Cube (or Briggs YMCA) as I stood on the block.

I am not a talented athlete by any stretch of the imagination, however, I have developed a reservoir of endurance as a result of consistent training over the last 15 years. Another asset is an intuitive feel for even pacing. Case in point, the Seattle Half Marathon. The marathon website provides three pages of stats for each runner based on their timing chip. One graphic said that from mile 6.2 to 13.1 I passed 233 people and 6 passed me. I ran 7:20’s for the first half of the race and 7 flats for the second, hillier section. The art of the slow build.

Oddly, my Rudolph’s Plunge 500 may have been the worst paced race in my life. I don’t know why, but I went out WAY too fast. Long story short, I faded big time over the second half, but still finished in 6:17.5. L said at one point the announcer said I was on a 6:02 pace. Opps. It’s no fun going into oxygen debt and then not being able to recover.

Reminds me of a Prefontaine quote, “The only good race pace is suicide pace and today looks like a good day to die.”

I thoroughly enjoyed posting a 6:17 sticky note on A’s mirror that night before retiring.

And at the end of a quiet circle in Northwest Indiana, my sister just shook her head in disgust.

Even though A was recently named co-captain of next year’s team, I suspect she’ll just quit the sport now that the natural order has been restored and the family record is out of reach.

Senate for Sale

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About nine years ago a colleague of mine at PLU, a psych prof, decided to run for our district’s House of Representative seat. He was just re-elected to his fourth term.  But the way he went about it was an awful lot of work.  He had to raise money, campaign, study issues, and shake an endless number of hands.

No thank you. And anyways, how exclusive a club can it be with 435 members? And they say you have to start campaigning for re-election the day after you’re sworn in. Again, no thank you.

My plan is to enter the “Obama Senate Seat Sweepstakes” (allegedly) being conducted by Illinois Governor Blagojevich.    

I’ve thought long and hard about what to offer and I’ve finally come to a decision.  I don’t know how I failed to include this most cherished item of mine in my “top 10” list of possessions.  So here you are Gov Blago:

 

Yes, as hard as it is to believe, I’m willing to part with my UCLA Bruins 7up Commemorative Bottle because of a recurring nightmare where our house catches fire. We escape safely, but standing in our drawers in the street, L asks, “Did you get the wedding pictures?” To which I say, “No, but I got THE BOTTLE!”

One side lists Wooden’s ten NCAA Championships and the other side “Salutes John Wooden” by listing his career stats. There’s also an excerpt from the Pyramid of Success that reads as follows: Success is peace of mind which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you did your best to become the best you are capable of becoming.

I know that quote will resonate with you.  I have a feeling you’re about to have extra time to “become the best you are capable of becoming.”  I look forward to hearing from you, and rest assured, I’ll sign anything you’d like guaranteeing not to tell anyone why you picked an unknown from Washington State.