Lucy

It has been billed (OK mostly by me) as the hardest thing known to man. I use this type of hyperbole for two reasons. One to plant the seed of contextual drama, and two to illustrate that despite its lofty and near impossible goal, we can still offer our best efforts as strategic intent.

The old impossible dream. I try to psyche them out a little in order to replace their inherent fear with the deep satisfaction that comes only from courage in the face of fire.

I am talking about the set we call Super Eights. Here is the exact protocol, as modified and perfected over about six or seven years:

• Ten minute warm up.
• Five minutes in Groove Zone.
• 30 seconds @ 85% of RPE max.
• 90 seconds @ 7/120 recovery (30 seated, 30 standing, 30 seated)
• REPEAT FIVE TIMES.
• Five minutes in Groove Zone.
• 30 seconds ALL OUT.
• 90 seconds @ 7/120 (30-30-30)
• REPEAT EIGHT TIMES.
• Five minutes in Groove Zone.
• 30 seconds @ 85% of RPE Max.
• 90 seconds @ 7/120 recovery (30-30-30)
• Cool down, stretch, floor stretch.

The metrics we use for validity are watts and heart rate. The real quantifier is whether or not you can, with brutal honesty, rate your efforts as either 85 or 100%. This is where I talk about finding the answer in your soul, not your head or heart. Not surprisingly this is also where I start to get questions (in the form of blank stares). What is this should thing you are talking about and where can I find it anatomically? Or, conversely, why does a '48 Chevy Pickup had tons more soul than anything made today?

This morning, as our core group of type AAA gorillas were ripping through the set, I glanced to my left and saw a very interesting sight. Lucy, an overweight High School Junior had an absolutely angelic visage. She was in the zone, generating big watts and absolutely glowing. This was the first time that she, in my assessment, committed to the protocol. The rewards were obvious to all who cared to witness.

After the killer set as I circled the room dispensing the usual accolades and fist bumps, I stopped in front of Lucy's bike, addressed her by name and held her gaze in appreciation of her outstanding performance.

Drenched in sweat, she smiled broadly and all but whispered, thank you.

No Lucy, THANK YOU!