My image of Troy is shattered. There he was, all built up on that pedestal, a larger-than-life portrait of a living legend. Gone, within a matter of days, demoted to mere mortal.
I was willing to overlook his weakness on Monday when he accepted (read: "begged his wife for") a ride home at the end of a ride. It was cold, and it was raining, and hey, been there, done that. It hurts. That gets a pass. Tonight was different.
Troy was whining. He was complaining about the temperature, calling it "cold". Ahem. Mid-50's are cool, but definitely not cold. This is the same man who rode outside all winter long. This winter. THIS winter! Methinks there's some lost perspective here. I tried to point out the illogical nature of his viewpoint, but he wasn't having any of it.
Before you think I'm being too hard on Troy for whining, or even wonder if he was indeed whining at all, let me just say I'm somewhat of an expert on the topic. First, I've taught school for 28 years. Second, I know Allen Burris. Third, I'm probably a world-class whiner myself. I know what I'm talking about.
Since we're talking about whining, let's develop that a bit. All joking aside, whining occurs when we feel injustice, helpless, or frustration. We whine about things we don't have, things we can't do, or how unfair a situation might be. For us athletes, we fret about things we can't control, like the weather, our age, our failing bodies... and these negative thoughts can betray us, making us feel helpless and hopeless. We forget about the things we can do because of the things we can't.
My good friend Galloway and I were both trying to offer advice to a novice triathlete during a run a few weeks back. We differed greatly on the issue of confidence vs. experience. Galloway's viewpoint was the more experience you get, the more confidence you get. Mine was the reverse; if you don't have confidence, you'll never even try. Truth might be in the middle, I suppose, but I'll stick to my guns here.
Roy, Scott, Troy, Dan, and I were the only riders to show tonight. The wind was steady out of the southeast as forecast, and it promised a fast ride out of the Washington County area. We were hardly started before the negative thoughts began. Be it the cold, recent workouts, lack of sleep, injury, already minds were turning away from the task at hand, a point so simple that it should have been easily grasped.
We were there to work hard. That's it. If we went fast while doing so, that was great, but the main thing, the most critical thing, was to stretch our bodies a bit and make them suffer. Whatever it took. No excuses, no backing off. Just do it. There is never anything to lose in trying.
I needed a lot of miles tonight, so I started early. I had 22 in before the rest showed (Troy also started early), and the group ride would wind up giving me 60. This was a conscious decision I made to make the distance, not the speed, the priority. It was still no excuse. I would in spite of that go ahead and give a time trial a shot. One by one everyone bought in, by default if nothing else as there was no one to share a line with anyway.
I won't go into much detail, I'll just say Scott, Roy, and I were going to run after the ride, so we broke from the others, pace lined down to the county line, then started our rides. Scott lead, followed by Roy, then me. Right away I could feel the lactic acid in my legs. So what, keep pushing. Get what you can! I had my heart rate monitor on, and I was curious at this point how high a heart rate I could manage on a hard effort.
Scott disappeared right away, almost never to be seen again. Roy was a distant red dot, a dot that took forever to catch. Both of these guys rode extremely well tonight. Scott especially. I have two words for Scott next time he says something about not being fast enough for Terre Haute. Here they are... Shut. Up.
I caught Roy just before the drop into Lost River. I never caught Scott. I couldn't even see him at the finish. Now he's not happy about his time, I know, but he has the wrong perspective. Maybe I didn't ride my fastest tonight, but I've given both Scott and Roy 4-5 minutes before and caught them. Scott couldn't have been more than 2 minutes ahead at the start. He closed the gap, as did Roy. Both guys rode great, whether or not they choose to see it.
Troy finally did man up. He'd ridden his secret time trial before we came out, and he was going at it again on the second trip. He clobbered me tonight, probably both times, and if there's any justice, he got the KOM. No one has worked harder to turn himself into a top-tier athlete than Troy. I happen to believe dedication should pay off (even at my expense!).
When it was over, Scott, Roy, and I ran 3 miles. Take that, Jimmy! We even ran Jimmy's favorite course - Allen's Mitchell Tour de Crap (pronounced "Turdy Crap"). Roy whined (channeling Jimmy), "Hey, Scott, you are going the wrong way - you keep moving away from the church!" and "Scott, slow down!" Okay, I might have helped with that one.
In the end, the day didn't break any records despite its promise. No matter. If one looks at things the right way, what is important is all the workout goals were accomplished at a high level. I needed 60 miles - got it. I wanted to push my heart rate - done. I wanted 3 running miles - ran. And, thanks to Scott, Roy's goal of running 9-minute miles were only missed by 43 seconds per mile (8:17 pace).
Great job, guys!
I was willing to overlook his weakness on Monday when he accepted (read: "begged his wife for") a ride home at the end of a ride. It was cold, and it was raining, and hey, been there, done that. It hurts. That gets a pass. Tonight was different.
Troy was whining. He was complaining about the temperature, calling it "cold". Ahem. Mid-50's are cool, but definitely not cold. This is the same man who rode outside all winter long. This winter. THIS winter! Methinks there's some lost perspective here. I tried to point out the illogical nature of his viewpoint, but he wasn't having any of it.
Before you think I'm being too hard on Troy for whining, or even wonder if he was indeed whining at all, let me just say I'm somewhat of an expert on the topic. First, I've taught school for 28 years. Second, I know Allen Burris. Third, I'm probably a world-class whiner myself. I know what I'm talking about.
Since we're talking about whining, let's develop that a bit. All joking aside, whining occurs when we feel injustice, helpless, or frustration. We whine about things we don't have, things we can't do, or how unfair a situation might be. For us athletes, we fret about things we can't control, like the weather, our age, our failing bodies... and these negative thoughts can betray us, making us feel helpless and hopeless. We forget about the things we can do because of the things we can't.
My good friend Galloway and I were both trying to offer advice to a novice triathlete during a run a few weeks back. We differed greatly on the issue of confidence vs. experience. Galloway's viewpoint was the more experience you get, the more confidence you get. Mine was the reverse; if you don't have confidence, you'll never even try. Truth might be in the middle, I suppose, but I'll stick to my guns here.
Roy, Scott, Troy, Dan, and I were the only riders to show tonight. The wind was steady out of the southeast as forecast, and it promised a fast ride out of the Washington County area. We were hardly started before the negative thoughts began. Be it the cold, recent workouts, lack of sleep, injury, already minds were turning away from the task at hand, a point so simple that it should have been easily grasped.
We were there to work hard. That's it. If we went fast while doing so, that was great, but the main thing, the most critical thing, was to stretch our bodies a bit and make them suffer. Whatever it took. No excuses, no backing off. Just do it. There is never anything to lose in trying.
I needed a lot of miles tonight, so I started early. I had 22 in before the rest showed (Troy also started early), and the group ride would wind up giving me 60. This was a conscious decision I made to make the distance, not the speed, the priority. It was still no excuse. I would in spite of that go ahead and give a time trial a shot. One by one everyone bought in, by default if nothing else as there was no one to share a line with anyway.
I won't go into much detail, I'll just say Scott, Roy, and I were going to run after the ride, so we broke from the others, pace lined down to the county line, then started our rides. Scott lead, followed by Roy, then me. Right away I could feel the lactic acid in my legs. So what, keep pushing. Get what you can! I had my heart rate monitor on, and I was curious at this point how high a heart rate I could manage on a hard effort.
Scott disappeared right away, almost never to be seen again. Roy was a distant red dot, a dot that took forever to catch. Both of these guys rode extremely well tonight. Scott especially. I have two words for Scott next time he says something about not being fast enough for Terre Haute. Here they are... Shut. Up.
I caught Roy just before the drop into Lost River. I never caught Scott. I couldn't even see him at the finish. Now he's not happy about his time, I know, but he has the wrong perspective. Maybe I didn't ride my fastest tonight, but I've given both Scott and Roy 4-5 minutes before and caught them. Scott couldn't have been more than 2 minutes ahead at the start. He closed the gap, as did Roy. Both guys rode great, whether or not they choose to see it.
Troy finally did man up. He'd ridden his secret time trial before we came out, and he was going at it again on the second trip. He clobbered me tonight, probably both times, and if there's any justice, he got the KOM. No one has worked harder to turn himself into a top-tier athlete than Troy. I happen to believe dedication should pay off (even at my expense!).
When it was over, Scott, Roy, and I ran 3 miles. Take that, Jimmy! We even ran Jimmy's favorite course - Allen's Mitchell Tour de Crap (pronounced "Turdy Crap"). Roy whined (channeling Jimmy), "Hey, Scott, you are going the wrong way - you keep moving away from the church!" and "Scott, slow down!" Okay, I might have helped with that one.
In the end, the day didn't break any records despite its promise. No matter. If one looks at things the right way, what is important is all the workout goals were accomplished at a high level. I needed 60 miles - got it. I wanted to push my heart rate - done. I wanted 3 running miles - ran. And, thanks to Scott, Roy's goal of running 9-minute miles were only missed by 43 seconds per mile (8:17 pace).
Great job, guys!
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