Not That Day

It is race week around here. We go to the starting line for the last time (99% sure) this year. Used to be that September meant that the primary objective of qualifying for Kona had already been accomplished and it was officially time to taper into the big show on the Big Island. That was the way it was always laid out in planning anyway. It only happened once in actuality. But that never stopped me from training like it was the goal. 

I spent the afternoon yesterday, between dog walks and cat naps, assembling a list of items necessary for Saturday’s event, an Olympic distance triathlon. I have done this several times but have never had the foresight to save properly so another attempt was necessary for the clients that I am coaching through the race. We got to talking about the gear issues that a multi-sport event requires finishing with a graphic review of our, now tapering, training. One of our regulars is a very well respected physical therapist, the go-to doc for our tiny Island’s sole professional cyclist. As we rehashed our long hours spent swimming, biking, running, bricking, lifting and stretching, we began to compare those metrics with the idiot savant methods of the pro cyclist. And of course an interesting thing happened when we did. 

As told in parable form, a pro cyclist will train for an average of 35 hours a week, or 5 hours a day, every day. After a gasping round of yikes, wows and OMGs, the plot took a turn for the thicker with the kicker that this is "normal", with a regular increase in power output until about the age of 29.5. An astounding fete if one considers the super human discipline and desire necessary to work this hard for such an extended period of time. BUT…….

Our story teller continues, here is the punch (in the gut) line: Once a cyclist begins the inevitable decline he or she must face this reality:

YOU MUST STILL WORK JUST AS HARD (35 PER WEEK) WHILE WATCHING YOUR RETURNS GRADUALLY DIMINISH.

I innocently blurt, till what?

Until you either quit or are released. 

That staggeringly ironic emotional reality I used in spin class this morning as a metaphor. It is the same thing that we face with our health and fitness. It is failing. It is inevitable, it will decline and one day we will face that same circumstance. We must all work just as hard as always to age weaker. One day we will no longer be able to do what we once did. 

It always gives me a jolt to finish that open with a closing…..

BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY.