Reflections on a 5k

This past Saturday I participated in my first 5k.  The race was hosted in Plano, TX, by the Heroes for Children organization.  This wonderful cause was created by two ladies who lost kids to childhood cancers, and the organization provides assistance to families who are enduring similar troubles in their life.   I am very proud and honored to have run my first-ever 5k (and first ever athletic event of any kind) in support of this organization.

I did pretty good on the 5k, considering that I had never done one before and am nursing a balky knee.  I am not quite far enough along in my training regimen to run 3 miles yet, so I walked about half of it and ran what I could.  I did finish on a run, though, and logged a "chip time" of 40:41.   I'm quite pleased with that, as my only goals for this were to finish and attempt to finish in less than 45 minutes.  I was just below the average for runners in my age/gender division.  

Some random thoughts from the events of the day:

1.  I was saddened that my family was not able to attend the event and watch me run.  The vagaries of the fall soccer season for my boys prevented that... but I know my lovely wife and handsome boys were cheering me on in spirit.

2.  Some guys would scoff at this, but I could have sworn some moisture from Hurricane Ike got in my eyes during the pre-race ceremonies as we heard the tale of the founders' kiddoes that died from cancer, and were introduced to children who are currently fighting the greatest fight of their young lives.   Somehow the moisture got there about an hour before it started raining.  Go figure.

3.  A young man named Carson, who is battling cancer, has a LOT of people who love him.  They were all there, in powder-blue tshirts emlazoned with "Carson's Crusaders" on it.   I think I counted at least 30 or more.   My prayers are with that young man... he is looking great right now, and I hope that he continues to kick his adversary right in the teeth.

4.  I saw one of the Geico cavemen there.  I kid you not, there was one guy in the crowd with quite a beard and hairdo.....

5.  And then there was the guy in the kilt... and he ran the 5k.  I passed him at one point.  Fortunately, the tropical storm winds had not arrived yet... I had no desire to see how authentic his mode of dress was.....

6.  In mile 3 of the run, I figured out that I was a "pacer".  I powerwalked most of the third mile before running the final 1/8 or so to the finish.  However, when I powerwalk, I am really booking it.  Consequently, I would pass people all the time who had dropped to a walk as well.  I would get a ways ahead of them and then they would run again, just a little bit past me, then drop to a walk again... and I would pass them again in short order.    I began to get the sense that they would say  "Hey!  the fat guy is passing me again... I gotta run!"  :-)

7.  Doing athletic things makes you appreciate food afterwards.   The body has a sense that you've earned it to some degree.   A sausage biscuit with egg NEVER tasted so good as it did Saturday morning.

8.  Finally.... my feelings about my first 5k are in no way reflected by my spot in the final rankings.  I knew I was not ready to 'compete' in any fashion.   But this 5k is the first milestone that I can point to in my quest to live a more active, healthy life.  I entered a running competition and I finished, and finished on my terms with a good run.  It is something that I am extremely proud for having done, and I can't wait to do another one.... and to someday do one after having climbed off my bike, 2/3 of the way through a triathlon!

Phelps still has nothing to worry about...

But the swimming is finally getting better!  I finally have figured out how all the parts work, and now I'm swimming pretty consistently.  There is still a lot of refining to do, and I keep a constant eye on my mechanics, but now the basic stroke is built, and I'm toodling down the pool in good fashion.

The key was the breathing.  I finally settled on a "2" breathing pattern.  (Breathing on the same side, every time that arm comes up out of the water over your head).   The trick to it was learning to take smaller breaths, rather than gulping a big lungful, which is what I was doing before.  This didn't work because I didn't have time to exhale it before it was time to breathe again, and you need to have it timed where you have exhaled it all through your nose and are ready to inhale as soon as your head comes out of the water.  Once I learned to "half-breathe", it all started to fall into place.

I'm no speed demon, but I was surprised at how quickly I can get down the pool now that I have the basic stroke down.  Feels pretty good, actually.  Now, I can really start to train for this portion of the triathlon, working on refining the mechanics and stretching my endurance.  

I still have a long way to go, but now I can really get started on the journey.

A long-expected day

Yesterday, I watched with pride as my son Matthew finally got to experience a day he has anticipated for the better part of three years.  In the second half of his first soccer game of the season, my son pulled on a keeper's jersey, put on his gloves, and played his first game as a goalkeeper.

As I said earlier, he has wanted this for years.  He fell in love with the defensive aspects of soccer as soon as he was old enough to appreciate the game.  However, the recreational soccer organization in our city does not use GK's until the boys reach the U9 stage.  For awhile now, my son has played sweeper, and has been the last line of defense for his team despite the fact that he could not use his hands.    In the last couple of years, the team has played on a much larger field, with a 6'x12' goal... and no keeper.  We have seen **a lot*** of goals scored from the midline or worse.

And so, I've watched him as he tried to defend this huge goal without being able to use his hands.

That changed yesterday, and it was a joy to see one of my sons get to fulfill a dream.  Granted, he's young, and it's not quite the equivalent of starting in goal for ManU, but it's still his dream.. and he had waited almost half his lifetime to see it realized.

In order to make his debut the best we could for him, we sent him to a top-notch goalkeeping camp this summer, and have arranged for him to get keeper training from specialized coaches throughout the season.  He threw himself into the training with gusto, and it showed as he stepped into his goal.   He walked like a keeper, stalked like a keeper, and played like a keeper.  He had just a touch of that attitude-- "this is MY goal, and you stay out".

And he played very well in his debut.  He allowed three goals, but saved many more, proving to be quite fearless the whole time.  After only one game, his teammates dubbed him "Brick Wall".  Even the opposing coach, whose team is one of the best in the whole association, took time in the congratulatory handshake line to compliment him on his play.

Needless to say, I was brimming with pride.  But even more than pride... I was filled with satisfaction.  Pride comes hand-in-hand with the dangerous train of thought that I am watching, in my son, the future keeper for the US national team, or maybe Chelsea or Real Madrid, etc, etc.

But the satisfaction was for him, and the joy I could tell that he was feeling.  My son realized a dream yesterday, and it was everything he had ever hoped it would be, and he had fun doing it... and it showed.

It doesn't get much better than that for a Dad!

Michael Phelps I'm not....

About a month ago, I decided that just losing weight and getting into better shape was no longer good enough.   In a moment of contemplation and thinking about my personal goals and life-dreams, I had a temporary lapse of sanity and decided that I was going to train for a...... triathlon.

Yes, you read right.  A triathlon.

Now, before you go off looking for a burial plot for me, understand that I have no pretensions about doing an "Ironman".  That is the one that most people think of when they think "triathlon".   2.25 mile swim, 113 mile bike ride, and 26 mile marathon.

I don't think so, scooter.

Nope, I'm shooting for a "sprint" triathlon, something a little more in the realm of us mere mortals.  1/2 mile swim, 13 mile bike ride, 3 mile run.  Much more doable.  Really.  Surely.   Just...... too bad the swimming comes first!   Ah, swimming- that glorious realm of the "I could swim to save my life if I needed to, but I don't really want to admit that if I fell off a boat, I would probably freak and drown in plain site of the life ring floating next to my head"

The swimming is the only portion of the triathlon that gives me the sweats.  The portion that sometimes makes me think-- "what on earth am I doing?!?"   I can ride a bicycle.  I may come in last over 13 miles, but I know how to ride a bike.  I can run... and if I'm tired, I can walk.  Been doing that for 38-some odd years or so.  But swimming-- ah, therein lies the rub.

And so... now I'm training to be a competitive swimmer.  Now I need to get ready for an 800m swim.  That's 8 laps in an Olympic-length pool.   16 laps at the pool in the 24-hour Fitness gym I frequent.  And I have found out that competitive swimming is HARD.  15 minutes in the pool is far more exhausting than 45 on the treadmill.  Hands down.

My coach (my beautiful wife, a former Water Safety Instructor), is teaching me, helping me develop a better crawl technique.   My previous crawl (read:  flopping thrash) would be the equivalent of a Picasso... all the parts are in unexpected places.  So now,I'm trying to work on bettering 15 million parts of a swimming crawl stroke, and put them all together sometime soon enough to actually start swimming using this new-fangled crawl and build up my endurance for the triathlon.  Somewhat like this:

1. Head down
2. Left arm back, elbow tight to the body, rotating the upper torso.
3. Left elbow out of water, bent above line of spine and head.
4. Left arm enters the water, hand at an angle, directly on the centerline of my spine just in front of my head
5. Left hand turns slightly, catches the water, as I pull back.
6. Meanwhile, the right arm is already pulling back, elbow in, ready to come out of the water.
7. Oh yeah... I'm supposed to be kicking.  Divert mental resources to the legs, ah, there they go... they are moving again, participating in this madness rather than acting as a sea anchor
8. Right arm forward, centerline, catch....
9. Left arm back, elbow in, up, centerline, catch....
10. Right arm forward, centerline, catch....
11. Still kicking?  Yes, good!  I'm forgetting something... what the heck is it?  Oh yeah... I NEED TO BREATHE!
12. Ship a mouth full of water and stop the lap, gasping.....

Happens all too often, unfortunately....

sigh

I'll get there.  I've given myself a lot of time to do this, and I've got determination like you wouldn't believe.   This triathlon goal means a lot to me, maybe more than any goal I've ever set for myself.   And, if nothing else, I have a new found respect-- above and beyond what I already possessed-- for the men, women, boys, and girls who do this *swimming* thing for competition.

I may not be Michael Phelps, but suddenly he seems even a little bit more like a Swimming Superman.

Lessons from Six Flags

This past Saturday, my family and I went to Six Flags over Texas in Arlington.   Yes, for those of you familiar with an August day in Texas... we are insane.   Actually, the reality is that we try to live within our means, and we had some free tickets.   Normally, Six Flags is a significant expenditure for us, as a family of five.   Two of our boys are already over the 48" line, even though they are only 8 and 7, so they are full price.  If we just drove up to the park, and walked up to pay.... it would cost us about $250 US just to get in!   

However, on this day we had 3 free tickets thanks to their summer reading program, and we had to use them by August 9th.  So here we are on 9 August (naturally), getting our trip to Six Flags in before the tickets expired.   In 100 degree heat.  In August.  And the place is packed.   So what are the lessons from Six Flags?

First, all of this hard work I've been doing to lose weight and get in shape is paying off dividends when I least expect it.  Had I done this exact same outing last summer, I would have bonked by mid-afternoon, and would have been suffering.  I probably would not have left, so that my kids could continue to enjoy it, but I would have been miserable.

And I was not.  I did not hit my wall until after 9:00 PM, as we were wrapping up and heading home.   That was such a blessing to have the energy and stamina to enjoy this day with my family, no matter what the temperature.  On a further note... we were going out to our car to have our picnic lunch, and my wife and kids were sagging a little from hunger, so I offered to double-time it back to the car and have all the sandwiches and drinks ready when they got there.   My wife eagerly agreed  (of course!), and so I power-walked to the far end of the parking lot in the hottest part of the day, threw all the stuff from the Jeep into the shady tree area, and started making sandwiches.  As I sat there... I realized I wasn't even winded... and that felt really good :-)

On a totally different note.. I really want to know where my 8-yr old got his daredevil gene.  He just loves any activity that is dangerous... rock-climbing, roller coasters, you name it.. he wants to try it.

So what's the problem?   Well, Daddy is not really a roller coaster guy.  :-|  Never have been.  It's just not my thing.   As it turns out, one of the few top-notch roller coasters that Matthew can ride at Six Flags is.... the Texas Giant.   Yes, he's too short for the Titan and the Batman and the Mr. Freeze, etc.  But he's tall enough for the Texas Giant.

And of course... he wants to ride it.  You can tell it's the highlight of his day at Six Flags.   Mommy has ridden it before and refuses to do so again.  He's too young to stand in line and ride it by himself.  And he's looking at me with those big brown eyes, and paternal pride is on the line.

All I can say is... thank goodness for martial-arts-style mental focusing techniques.  Whoever designed that roller coaster needs to be institutionalized.  Or tarred and feathered, then deported.  Excommunicated.   Something.   Because he is one sick, sadistic, warped person  :-D

But I did it.  I guess that makes me a hero in Matthew's eyes, at least for one day.  I could see it, and he was so happy that he got to ride it.  The things we fathers do for our children!

Random thoughts for the day:
1.  Watching Olympics until after midnight combined with getting up at 0445 to go to the gym combined with being 40 years old?  That's some bad juju, very bad juju.
2.  I have my permanent call sign from the FCC now!  My amateur radio operating license is KA5RWW.  Now I just need to scrape up enough money for a radio :(
3.  Went to put my sunglasses up in the holder in the van this morning, and they came apart in my hands.  Somehow the frame broke right above the bridge.  Bummer.   I only wear cheap sunglasses (I am too rough on them), but I had really liked this pair, and they had lasted 6 months or so.  Oh well.

I think we must be doing something right....

Last night I did one of my favorite activities as a father.  I got home from work, and sat down in my recliner with my canvas library bag.  My boys came running up, full of excitement, as I began to dole out the books and audio book cd's they had 'ordered' with me a few nights before.    Daddy had helped them search for books they wanted, and we put them on hold.   They were so excited to get their books... within minutes they were curled up on the couch or some other place to sit, reading their books.

My wife and I must be doing at least one thing right.  I'm raising a passel of boys who are readers in a non-reading age.  Rene Descartes once said "Reading good booksis like having a conversation with the most distinguished men of past ages".    Literature is a powerful thread that bonds humans throughout the centuries.  It is a unique gift from our Father creator, with the greatest example of literature provided by Him.

I despair at times to see how reading is being put aside by so many in this day and age.  Despite being a technologically savvy person myself, I believe that the reading of good books and literature teaches us things in a much deeper way than video bites or interactive learning systems.  It is the way we are wired-- if do the hard work (yes, it is often hard work to read something substantial), it will enrich you like no other form of learning.

There was once an episode of the original Star Trek, where a lawyer who is defending James Kirk against a murder charge is shown to be one of the few remaining people who still likes books... their feel, their look, and most importantly, their contents.   If I were a Star Trek character...that would probably be me :)

Is the world headed down a path where future generations will not be readers of anything deeper than a milk saucer?  I don't know.  What I do know is, that like many aspects of life, the most direct impact I can have is on my oikos, my immediate area of influence.

And in that area, there are 3 little boys who rush up to Daddy to get their books from the library.  At that moment, all is right with the world.

Random thoughts:
1.  Gentlemen:  when you have a beautiful wife to whom you are unfailingly faithful, and you do enough for her to keep her happy and keep her emotional tank full.... and she has the sort of personality where she will then take care of your needs.... it doesn't get much better than that.  Seriously.  Free lesson for the day.
2.  I just can't seem to learn.    My personal trainer:  "We're done for today, unless you think you can do a third set"   Me:  "Sure, I could do a third set".    Stupid, stupid, stupid
3.  Today, I found one benefit of being 40...  turns out my personal trainer should have been using a different chart for my body fat calculations since I was so close to (and just turned now) 40.  So, this morning I magically lost another 2% just like that.   That was cool!

This is surreal

In order for this post to make any sense, you must understand one thing... I am the world's hottest-natured person.  I can't stand heat.  It drives me up the wall, makes me buggy... just ask my family.  When the temperatures climb into the triple digits here in Texas, I just come home from work, take a cold shower, and hide in the dark bedroom in front of a roaring fan for the entire evening.   I don't do heat.

So, we're in the middle of this heat wave in Texas-- one that has me, once again, contemplating moving to another part of the US.  It's been 11 straight days of over 100 degree temps.  We canceled a trip to Six Flags last weekend because the high was supposed to be 107 degrees, with a heat index of 112!

And what am I wearing in my cubicle at work?   A HOODIE!  They have the air conditioning running so high in this portion of the building that we are all just freezing!   I work in a large room that was made of out converted cubicle space.  In other words, this area was not originally designed as an enclosed room, and the A/C has never been "redesigned" for the change.   So, in order to make it remotely hospitable for other cubicle denizens, some of whom are yards and yards and yards (meters and meters and meters) away.... our room is turned into a reefer, a meat locker, a WALK-IN REFRIGERATOR.

It's surreal.  I am normally the last person to complain about a nice, cool room, but this is too much.  It's 102 degrees outside right now, and I'm drinking hot tea and shivering in my light wool hoodie.  And, in a little over 3 hours, I will walk out into an absolute oven to climb in my overbaked coche, to drive home in heat so oppressive that it starts to put me to sleep during the drive..

I tell ya... a guy can't win for losing.   Oh, to have a sailboat and go cruising with my beautiful wife, leaving work and cares behind...... someday!