My performance at the Laser regatta was very average. Looked like there were over 50 boats. Winds were moderate for the first couple of races but then got lighter. I had trouble getting clear air off the start line but once I could find a decent lane my boat speed seemed OK.
Mark roundings were crowded and one veteran sailor got ticked off when I didn't give him room at a leeward mark. He sailed across to me after the race and started complaining. I quietly and politely explained why I thought the facts of the case were in my favor and he drifted away. Still, it left me feeling uneasy that a respected fellow sailor thought I had been cheating.
At the start of the last race I was near the right end of the line because the wind seemed stronger on that side. But then there was a 30 degree shift to the left about a minute before the start. I started to work down towards the pin but didn't get very far. About three quarters of the fleet tacked on to port and crossed me. So I thought, "What the hell -- nothing to gain from tacking underneath them and going right -- let's bang the corner."
The wind was pretty light by then but I could see some more pressure further left. If the wind went further left I might pull off a big gain. A few other gamblers were with me but I was the last to tack on to port. The outgoing tide was lifting us above the layline so we cracked off slightly.
I arrived at the windward mark about midfleet so I had gained some boats by not following the herd. But the wind was dying so I opted to call it a day and head back to the club. I sailed above the windward mark and told my friend T, who was manning one of the race committee boats, that I was heading in.
He laughed as the continuous line of starboard tackers slowly progressed around the mark. "Hey look -- there's a gap -- go for it -- just behind B." B is one of the better sailors in the fleet -- not usually a winner, but usually ahead of me.
I rolled my eyes and said in my loudest and most sarcastic voice so even B could hear, "I don't want to be behind B." With plenty of emphatic derision focused on B's name. Geeze -- I can be such a jerk at times. I sailed on back to the club.
I was first to the hose to wash my boat. Gave the rivets on my shiny new gooseneck a really good rinse. Don't want another disaster like last week.
Also first into the changing room to change into street clothes. Better than sharing the tiny room with 50 sweaty Laser sailors along with their wetsuits, drysuits, fleeces, sweatpants and smelly underwear.
D, who is one if the top Laser Master sailors in New England, had opted to come in just behind me. "I can sail in those conditions and I have done well in those conditions but I don't enjoy it," he said.
I kind of disagreed. "It's always fun if you're winning. If I had been in the top 10 at that mark I would have kept on racing."
When I got outside again another friend P was there but the rest of the fleet was still at sea. "Did you win by a mile or come in early too?" I asked. He smiled. "No -- I called it a day."
After putting the boat away I noticed another friend A still sailing in to the boat ramp. The wind by now was zero knots and he was standing on the foredeck, holding the mast and rocking the boat to propel it. Once he had hauled the boat up the ramp I went over and congratulated him as he had been ahead of me in every race that day.
"Yeah, but in that last race......." and he proceeded to tell me a tale of woe about how he had been at the starboard end of the line too but had gone right under pretty well the whole fleet. Judging by the time he hit the dock he must have been near last.
"So are you coming to Bermuda next year?" he asked. I knew he and a few others had sailed Lasers at an invitational regatta in Bermuda in April this year.
"No. What's the deal?"
"Send me an email and I'll send you the details and the invitation," he said.
It sounded like a fun idea. The Bermudians provide the boats -- and housing too if you want it. All we have to do is show up and race.
So the day ended on an optimistic note. I drove home into the sunset admiring the changing tableau of cream to peach to pink to salmon to apricot to crimson ahead of me. As the sky darkened, the view was dominated by the crescent moon with Venus hanging just above it. Crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge I could see a small sailboat with no lights and no engine drifting far below me in mid-river in the gloom.
I hoped he got home OK as I dreamed of Spring sailing in Bermuda.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Friday, November 04, 2005
Life Changing Event
I apologized to the commodore of my sailing club saying that I probably wouldn't be able to attend the sailing club awards dinner because our first grandchild is due to arrive in the next couple of weeks. And when he or she does show up we will be going to stay with my son and his wife for a while to help out. The commodore already has several grandchildren and said that of course he understood and told me that this will be a "life changing event".
Wow. Can't wait. Here's Anne with about 18 days to go.
Insanity
A few days ago I wrote a piece looking back at the highs and lows of my sailing season this year. I said I've been thinking about what I should do differently next year in order to make some progress. The old definition of insanity (sometimes attributed to Albert Einstein) is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So I am determined to do some new things in 2006. What will they be?
1. Sell the Sunfish. Even back in June I was writing about how much I was enjoying sailing the Laser that I was hearing voices in my head telling me to get rid of the Sunfish. It's a tough decision because there is a lot of Sunfish racing in the area I live now, I have a lot of friends in the Sunfish world and I've had a lot of fun over the years racing the Sunfish -- including being on the US team at the Worlds a few times. But it feels like it's time to move on. If I'm going to get better in the Laser I need to focus on it.
2. Sail Laser regattas all summer. This summer I did most of my sailing racing in the Laser fleet we are building on one of our local lakes. Building a fleet was rewarding. But it did no good for my own sailing ability. The competition there didn't stretch me. And the regattas that really count (at least for me) are the major regional and national regattas that are almost invariably sailed on ocean, sea, bay or sound. I need tougher competition on a regular basis and I need to spend more time sailing on the sea. Going to a regatta almost every weekend will be the way to achieve that.
3. Don't take on a summer job. Hey, I know that most Laser sailors have full time jobs. But at my age, after working all week teaching sailing, sometimes I didn't have the energy, mental or physical, to hook up the trailer and drive a few hundred miles on the weekend to a regatta. So July and August were pretty much a competition famine for me. In 2006 I will not fall into that trap.
So that's the first part of the plan for next year. Clear the decks, eliminate distractions so I can focus on sailing Laser regattas on the ocean.
1. Sell the Sunfish. Even back in June I was writing about how much I was enjoying sailing the Laser that I was hearing voices in my head telling me to get rid of the Sunfish. It's a tough decision because there is a lot of Sunfish racing in the area I live now, I have a lot of friends in the Sunfish world and I've had a lot of fun over the years racing the Sunfish -- including being on the US team at the Worlds a few times. But it feels like it's time to move on. If I'm going to get better in the Laser I need to focus on it.
2. Sail Laser regattas all summer. This summer I did most of my sailing racing in the Laser fleet we are building on one of our local lakes. Building a fleet was rewarding. But it did no good for my own sailing ability. The competition there didn't stretch me. And the regattas that really count (at least for me) are the major regional and national regattas that are almost invariably sailed on ocean, sea, bay or sound. I need tougher competition on a regular basis and I need to spend more time sailing on the sea. Going to a regatta almost every weekend will be the way to achieve that.
3. Don't take on a summer job. Hey, I know that most Laser sailors have full time jobs. But at my age, after working all week teaching sailing, sometimes I didn't have the energy, mental or physical, to hook up the trailer and drive a few hundred miles on the weekend to a regatta. So July and August were pretty much a competition famine for me. In 2006 I will not fall into that trap.
So that's the first part of the plan for next year. Clear the decks, eliminate distractions so I can focus on sailing Laser regattas on the ocean.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Living Slow
The subtitle of this blog is "live slow and sail fast". Being retired from real work it is all to easy to stay true to the living slow part. Except that, even though it's now 5 years since my official retirement, I still have a guilty conscience when I while away a day like I did today.
7am - wake up - think that if I want to go and run a 5k on the high school track I should go and do it now as later in the day the phys ed classes will be using it. Turn over and go back to sleep.
8am - wake up again. Get up and make the love of my life a cup of coffee. She looks after most of the cooking in this household so this is my token attempt to carry at least a share of the load. Sit in bed, drink coffee, read my library book.
8:30am - get up, shave, put the trash out, eat breakfast.
9am - start up the computer, read my email, read the news, read a few blogs, write one posting for my blog.
10:00am - go and fix the new gooseneck on my mast to repair the problem that sabotaged me when racing last weekend.
11:00am - surf the web for a while.
11:30am - think that if I don't do a 5k at the track I should go and do a long run before lunch instead. Decide to go running after lunch.
12:30pm - make myself a toasted cheese bagel and a cup of coffee for lunch. Watch cable news for a while. The Dems are calling the Repugs liars; the Repugs are trying to ignore them; the Pres is leaving the country; Brownie (you're doing a heck of a job Brownie) is being embarrassed by the publication of his emails about how far to roll up his sleeves to look good on TV while hundreds were dying in New Orleans; the French are revolting. Nothing new.
1:30pm - go back to the computer and while away the afternoon doing nothing much except researching portable GPS equipment and wondering if I can justify one for Lasering even if it is illegal for racing. Find cool Brit site with a sailing speed challenge.
4:00pm - think about going for a run before it gets dark. I don't.
5:00pm - practice my guitar for a while. Wish I could play better so give up.
5:30pm - write a blog post about Living Slow.
So that was about how much I produced today. My gross domestic output was a cup of coffee for my wife, 6 pop rivets in a Laser mast and a few hundred words of drivel for my blog.
Tomorrow I really must go for a run.
7am - wake up - think that if I want to go and run a 5k on the high school track I should go and do it now as later in the day the phys ed classes will be using it. Turn over and go back to sleep.
8am - wake up again. Get up and make the love of my life a cup of coffee. She looks after most of the cooking in this household so this is my token attempt to carry at least a share of the load. Sit in bed, drink coffee, read my library book.
8:30am - get up, shave, put the trash out, eat breakfast.
9am - start up the computer, read my email, read the news, read a few blogs, write one posting for my blog.
10:00am - go and fix the new gooseneck on my mast to repair the problem that sabotaged me when racing last weekend.
11:00am - surf the web for a while.
11:30am - think that if I don't do a 5k at the track I should go and do a long run before lunch instead. Decide to go running after lunch.
12:30pm - make myself a toasted cheese bagel and a cup of coffee for lunch. Watch cable news for a while. The Dems are calling the Repugs liars; the Repugs are trying to ignore them; the Pres is leaving the country; Brownie (you're doing a heck of a job Brownie) is being embarrassed by the publication of his emails about how far to roll up his sleeves to look good on TV while hundreds were dying in New Orleans; the French are revolting. Nothing new.
1:30pm - go back to the computer and while away the afternoon doing nothing much except researching portable GPS equipment and wondering if I can justify one for Lasering even if it is illegal for racing. Find cool Brit site with a sailing speed challenge.
4:00pm - think about going for a run before it gets dark. I don't.
5:00pm - practice my guitar for a while. Wish I could play better so give up.
5:30pm - write a blog post about Living Slow.
So that was about how much I produced today. My gross domestic output was a cup of coffee for my wife, 6 pop rivets in a Laser mast and a few hundred words of drivel for my blog.
Tomorrow I really must go for a run.
I've Been Thinking ...
I've been thinking ...
Uh oh. Whenever my wife or I say, "I've been thinking ..." to the other, we both know that it's a signal that some sort of surprise is coming. Maybe not a welcome one.
As in, "I've been thinking ... that we should throw away all your old skiing gear." (Her to me.)
Or, "I've been thinking ... it would be fun this winter to go hiking in the Andes." (Me to her.)
No dear. It's all right this time. I'm not planning to buy a new boat, take you bungee jumping in New Zealand or spend 5 grand on that cool audio system. Not today anyway.
I've been thinking ... about what I'm going to do differently to improve my sailing performance next year. As I wrote a few days ago I want to achieve more consistently good results -- as opposed to my somewhat patchy achievements this year. What should my target be? Sailing is a funny sport because you can only measure yourself against other sailors. Running is different. "I want to run a mile in 5:30" is a good objective -- clear, measurable. And there are training programs out there that will tell you what you need to do if you want to achieve that target. A sailing objective would be more like, "I want to come in the top 5 in my age group at national Laser Masters regattas." Problem is that the achievement of this target depends on who shows up at each particular regatta.
Paul, who commented on one of my running posts the other day, has a simple objective summed up in the name of his blog -- All American or Bust. According to his blog that means he would need to run (at his age) 2:06 in the 800 meters or 4:24 in the 1500 meters. Looking at the results of the 2005 Track and Field USA National Masters Championship those times would have placed Paul at around 5th place in his age group.
Hmmm. OK. So it seems that my sailing ambitions are roughly equivalent to achieving All American status in masters running. Wow. It sounds much better put that way.
Maybe I should change the name of my blog to be more like Paul's. He's certainly hanging it out there. All the world can see his target and read about how he's progressing towards it.
On the other hand, perhaps I should concentrate more on the process of improvement than on the end target? Process objectives rather than outcome objectives? As in, "In every start I will have clear air, be near the favored end, have a good hole to leeward and be going full speed on the line at the gun."
I've been thinking ... "Am I overthinking this?"
Uh oh. Whenever my wife or I say, "I've been thinking ..." to the other, we both know that it's a signal that some sort of surprise is coming. Maybe not a welcome one.
As in, "I've been thinking ... that we should throw away all your old skiing gear." (Her to me.)
Or, "I've been thinking ... it would be fun this winter to go hiking in the Andes." (Me to her.)
No dear. It's all right this time. I'm not planning to buy a new boat, take you bungee jumping in New Zealand or spend 5 grand on that cool audio system. Not today anyway.
I've been thinking ... about what I'm going to do differently to improve my sailing performance next year. As I wrote a few days ago I want to achieve more consistently good results -- as opposed to my somewhat patchy achievements this year. What should my target be? Sailing is a funny sport because you can only measure yourself against other sailors. Running is different. "I want to run a mile in 5:30" is a good objective -- clear, measurable. And there are training programs out there that will tell you what you need to do if you want to achieve that target. A sailing objective would be more like, "I want to come in the top 5 in my age group at national Laser Masters regattas." Problem is that the achievement of this target depends on who shows up at each particular regatta.
Paul, who commented on one of my running posts the other day, has a simple objective summed up in the name of his blog -- All American or Bust. According to his blog that means he would need to run (at his age) 2:06 in the 800 meters or 4:24 in the 1500 meters. Looking at the results of the 2005 Track and Field USA National Masters Championship those times would have placed Paul at around 5th place in his age group.
Hmmm. OK. So it seems that my sailing ambitions are roughly equivalent to achieving All American status in masters running. Wow. It sounds much better put that way.
Maybe I should change the name of my blog to be more like Paul's. He's certainly hanging it out there. All the world can see his target and read about how he's progressing towards it.
On the other hand, perhaps I should concentrate more on the process of improvement than on the end target? Process objectives rather than outcome objectives? As in, "In every start I will have clear air, be near the favored end, have a good hole to leeward and be going full speed on the line at the gun."
I've been thinking ... "Am I overthinking this?"
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Cancun Knee
Oh no. Not another post about injured body parts (I hear you say). Is this guy obsessed with his aches and pains?
All right. Settle down. What if I am? It's my blog. And my body parts. So here goes.
Back in March of 2000 I sailed the Laser Masters Worlds in Cancun. As sailing regattas go it was about as good as it gets. The regatta site was on the beach in front of the hotel in which we were staying. The temperatures were in the 80s. The wind was 15-20 knots every day except when it was stronger. 145 of the best old geezer Laser sailors in the world (plus me). Man it was awesome.
So this was the routine every day. 2 or 3 miles sailing to the racing area beyond the reef. 2 long races on trapezoid courses. 2 or 3 miles sailing (upwind) back to the beach after sailing. Except for the runs your feet never left the hiking straps. Magic.
Of course being a fair-skinned Caucasian with Viking ancestry I lathered up every square inch of exposed skin with SPF 999 sunscreen. But after a day or two I noticed that my knees were getting sunburned. I was wearing normal hiking pants with my knees bare. And I guess the sunscreen was rubbing off my knees as I scrambled around the boat in tacks and gybes. Then for most of the time (with my iron-muscled straight leg hiking style of course) my kneecaps were facing the relentless gaze of the Caribbean sun.
It just got worse every day. However much sunscreen I put on my knees they just got burned every day and ended up red and raw. Much worse than my little problem after running this week.
So when I got back I bought a pair of three-quarter length hiking pants and never showed my knees to the world again. These Queensport pants from Australia have doubled up neoprene in all the right places and super strong non-flex battens in the backs of the thighs. They are one of my most heavily used items of sailing clothing and have stood up to the abuse extraordinarily well considering I have had them 5 years now.
Hey that wasn't so bad was it? At least I didn't show you a photo of my knees!
All right. Settle down. What if I am? It's my blog. And my body parts. So here goes.
Back in March of 2000 I sailed the Laser Masters Worlds in Cancun. As sailing regattas go it was about as good as it gets. The regatta site was on the beach in front of the hotel in which we were staying. The temperatures were in the 80s. The wind was 15-20 knots every day except when it was stronger. 145 of the best old geezer Laser sailors in the world (plus me). Man it was awesome.
So this was the routine every day. 2 or 3 miles sailing to the racing area beyond the reef. 2 long races on trapezoid courses. 2 or 3 miles sailing (upwind) back to the beach after sailing. Except for the runs your feet never left the hiking straps. Magic.
Of course being a fair-skinned Caucasian with Viking ancestry I lathered up every square inch of exposed skin with SPF 999 sunscreen. But after a day or two I noticed that my knees were getting sunburned. I was wearing normal hiking pants with my knees bare. And I guess the sunscreen was rubbing off my knees as I scrambled around the boat in tacks and gybes. Then for most of the time (with my iron-muscled straight leg hiking style of course) my kneecaps were facing the relentless gaze of the Caribbean sun.
It just got worse every day. However much sunscreen I put on my knees they just got burned every day and ended up red and raw. Much worse than my little problem after running this week.
So when I got back I bought a pair of three-quarter length hiking pants and never showed my knees to the world again. These Queensport pants from Australia have doubled up neoprene in all the right places and super strong non-flex battens in the backs of the thighs. They are one of my most heavily used items of sailing clothing and have stood up to the abuse extraordinarily well considering I have had them 5 years now.Hey that wasn't so bad was it? At least I didn't show you a photo of my knees!
Wizards of Winds and Waves
I'm always scouting around for new and interesting sailing blogs. Today I came across Five O'Clock Somewhere. Actually it isn't mainly about sailing but the author, Carol Anne, is publishing an episode every few days of a fictional story she has written entitled Wizards of Winds and Waves. Lots of authentic descriptions of sailing and apres-sailing action but with the added twist that there's a supernatural element to the plot.
I'm hooked. Can't wait to see how the story turns out. Go check her out.
I'm hooked. Can't wait to see how the story turns out. Go check her out.
What a Beauty
There she is. What a beauty! OK I give you that she's not as sexy as the Brenta 30 or as exciting as a VO70.
But she's one of my favorite craft. She goes by the glamorous name of NDBC Station 44039. More commonly known as the Central Long Island Sound weather buoy.
It still blows my mind that with one click from my desktop I can immediately see the wind and wave conditions in one of my favorite sailing areas.
It seems that it's popular these days to complain about the federal bureaucracy especially in the aftermath of FEMA's inadequate response to Katrina. But I, for one, think that the National Data Buoy Center (NDBC) is "doing a heck of a job". An agency within the National Weather Service (NWS) of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) you can find out more than you ever wanted to know about NDBC at their website.
So let's see what 44039 says right now. Currently 13.6 knots gusting to 17.5 knots with waves of height 1.6 feet and a water temperature of 57.9 degrees.
Just perfect Laser sailing weather. Why am I sitting here at my desk?
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Inconsistently Good
A few years ago I went on a 5 day clinic with Kolius Sailing Schools. I learned a lot of good stuff from John Kolius and his team but one particular comment by one of the coaches has stuck in my mind. She said, "You have to be inconsistently good before you can be consistently good."
What did she mean? We all start as back-of-the fleet racers and over the years gradually improve. But our results don't improve consistently at first. Before we are good enough to expect to be in the top 3 at every regatta we sail we have to go through that stage of being inconsistently good. Good days and bad days. Moments of glory separated by long periods of total mediocrity.
"Inconsistently good" just about sums up my sailing year. Last Sunday was a great example. Probably the best start and best first beat of my sailing career. Followed by a gear breakdown and then some very average races where I struggled to make the top 20 in the fleet of 50+ Lasers. And that has been the pattern over the year. The highlights were winning an open Laser regatta for the first time; winning my age group at the Laser Masters Atlantic Coasts; and placing in the top 25% at the Laser Masters US Nationals. The worst performance was probably at the New England Laser Masters and everything else was somewhere in between.
Looking beyond results I also take pride in starting a new Laser fleet, writing a sailing blog for over 6 months, introducing another whole group of kids to our sport, being a competent race officer and publishing another year's worth of my club's sailing newsletter.
So it's time to step back and think what I want to achieve next year. How do I turn "inconsistently good" into "consistently good"? And what sailing challenges outside of racing shall I look for?
I'm sure part of the answer is in one of the first posts I made in this blog. Focus.
What did she mean? We all start as back-of-the fleet racers and over the years gradually improve. But our results don't improve consistently at first. Before we are good enough to expect to be in the top 3 at every regatta we sail we have to go through that stage of being inconsistently good. Good days and bad days. Moments of glory separated by long periods of total mediocrity.
"Inconsistently good" just about sums up my sailing year. Last Sunday was a great example. Probably the best start and best first beat of my sailing career. Followed by a gear breakdown and then some very average races where I struggled to make the top 20 in the fleet of 50+ Lasers. And that has been the pattern over the year. The highlights were winning an open Laser regatta for the first time; winning my age group at the Laser Masters Atlantic Coasts; and placing in the top 25% at the Laser Masters US Nationals. The worst performance was probably at the New England Laser Masters and everything else was somewhere in between.
Looking beyond results I also take pride in starting a new Laser fleet, writing a sailing blog for over 6 months, introducing another whole group of kids to our sport, being a competent race officer and publishing another year's worth of my club's sailing newsletter.
So it's time to step back and think what I want to achieve next year. How do I turn "inconsistently good" into "consistently good"? And what sailing challenges outside of racing shall I look for?
I'm sure part of the answer is in one of the first posts I made in this blog. Focus.
Fruit of the Loom
Years ago when I toiled in the dark satanic mills of a major corporation they used to send us on leadership courses. These were supposed to convert introverted analytical geeks such as myself into some kind of cross between Alexander the Great, Henry Ford and Mother Teresa. Dynamic, patient, thrusting, empathetic, energetic, innovative, compassionate, tough, caring, kick-ass leaders of industry. Impossible of course but we all played along with the game.
One of these programs was run by the Center for Creative Leadership. (And if you don't believe my tongue-in-cheek description of the program's objectives check out their page on 12 Leader Competencies.) Anyway, the company sent me on CCL's Leadership Development Program which is a 5 day course that "uses a variety of in-depth self-awareness tools and activities to enhance leadership capabilities. Participants learn strategies for continuous development through extensive assessment, group discussions, self-reflection, small-group activities and personal coaching." Which translated into English means that your boss, your colleagues and the people that work for you get to answer anonymous questionnaires about why they hate you and then you get to spend a week wallowing in all that delicious "feedback" with a bunch of other victims and some amateur shrinks from CCL. Oh - it was a joy, I can tell you.
As a participant I also had to spend many hours before the course filling in questionnaires before the course on my leadership style. I lied of course. I assumed everyone else would too. One of the questions -- like most of the questions it seemed to be somewhat unrelated to our company's business of turning cheap commodities into overpriced consumer goods -- one of the questions was "What personal health worries do you have?"
Of course this is a bit like, "When did you stop beating your wife?" No way am I going to answer, "Oh the usual stuff for a middle-aged male. I worry about cholesterol and blood pressure, testicular cancer and prostate cancer.... could that mole be a skin cancer, did I lose even more hair this month, am I losing my sex drive, are my teeth falling out and why do I have nightmares about my boss?"
So after a couple of seconds thought I answered, "Avoiding running injuries."
Ha ha, I thought I was so smart. It's a bit like those job interviews where they ask you, "What is your greatest weakness?" I assume nobody answers that they are lazy, that they cheat on their expenses or that they fudged the numbers in that last report. Of course not. You give an answer like, "I work too hard" or "I have high expectations of my co-workers".
"Avoiding running injuries" is really saying "I am an alpha male. I keep myself in shape. I go out and run for an hour or so every morning before going into the office at 6:30. I push myself too hard sometimes." Just the right tone for the shrinks at Center for Creative Leadership.
Strange thing was it was almost true. About the only health problem I had to worry about back then was the occasional inflamed tendon or twisted ankle. Of course runners obsess about injuries. You can get Plantar Fasciitis or Iliotibial Band Syndrome or even Exercise Induced Compartment Syndrome
to name just a few of the possibilities.
Since I started training to run marathons I have had very little in the way of running injuries. I've been using Jeff Galloway's run and walk method this year and it does seem to be doing the trick of gradually increasing my endurance without allowing me to push so hard that I get injured.
Until last week. I was in week 17 of the 26 week training program and it called on one day for "23 miles easy". I know - Mr Galloway does have a dry sense of humor. Easy indeed!
But I got through the 23 miles. But it wasn't exactly "easy". I don't think that running 23 miles is ever going to be easy for me.
After the run, I cooled down and then took a shower. Aaargh! Intense sharp pain in the small of my back as the water hit it. I jumped out of the shower and examined my back in the mirror. There was a small rectangular raw red sore in the middle of the back of my waist. Must have been caused by the label of my underwear. How weird. It was so well delineated you could almost read the writing on the label. (Hence the title of this posting if you've read this far mystified by the lack of connection between title and content).
Oh well. If that's the worst injury I get running this year I guess it ain't so bad. At least it didn't stop me from sailing on Sunday.
One of these programs was run by the Center for Creative Leadership. (And if you don't believe my tongue-in-cheek description of the program's objectives check out their page on 12 Leader Competencies.) Anyway, the company sent me on CCL's Leadership Development Program which is a 5 day course that "uses a variety of in-depth self-awareness tools and activities to enhance leadership capabilities. Participants learn strategies for continuous development through extensive assessment, group discussions, self-reflection, small-group activities and personal coaching." Which translated into English means that your boss, your colleagues and the people that work for you get to answer anonymous questionnaires about why they hate you and then you get to spend a week wallowing in all that delicious "feedback" with a bunch of other victims and some amateur shrinks from CCL. Oh - it was a joy, I can tell you.
As a participant I also had to spend many hours before the course filling in questionnaires before the course on my leadership style. I lied of course. I assumed everyone else would too. One of the questions -- like most of the questions it seemed to be somewhat unrelated to our company's business of turning cheap commodities into overpriced consumer goods -- one of the questions was "What personal health worries do you have?"
Of course this is a bit like, "When did you stop beating your wife?" No way am I going to answer, "Oh the usual stuff for a middle-aged male. I worry about cholesterol and blood pressure, testicular cancer and prostate cancer.... could that mole be a skin cancer, did I lose even more hair this month, am I losing my sex drive, are my teeth falling out and why do I have nightmares about my boss?"
So after a couple of seconds thought I answered, "Avoiding running injuries."
Ha ha, I thought I was so smart. It's a bit like those job interviews where they ask you, "What is your greatest weakness?" I assume nobody answers that they are lazy, that they cheat on their expenses or that they fudged the numbers in that last report. Of course not. You give an answer like, "I work too hard" or "I have high expectations of my co-workers".
"Avoiding running injuries" is really saying "I am an alpha male. I keep myself in shape. I go out and run for an hour or so every morning before going into the office at 6:30. I push myself too hard sometimes." Just the right tone for the shrinks at Center for Creative Leadership.
Strange thing was it was almost true. About the only health problem I had to worry about back then was the occasional inflamed tendon or twisted ankle. Of course runners obsess about injuries. You can get Plantar Fasciitis or Iliotibial Band Syndrome or even Exercise Induced Compartment Syndrome
to name just a few of the possibilities.
Since I started training to run marathons I have had very little in the way of running injuries. I've been using Jeff Galloway's run and walk method this year and it does seem to be doing the trick of gradually increasing my endurance without allowing me to push so hard that I get injured.
Until last week. I was in week 17 of the 26 week training program and it called on one day for "23 miles easy". I know - Mr Galloway does have a dry sense of humor. Easy indeed!
But I got through the 23 miles. But it wasn't exactly "easy". I don't think that running 23 miles is ever going to be easy for me.
After the run, I cooled down and then took a shower. Aaargh! Intense sharp pain in the small of my back as the water hit it. I jumped out of the shower and examined my back in the mirror. There was a small rectangular raw red sore in the middle of the back of my waist. Must have been caused by the label of my underwear. How weird. It was so well delineated you could almost read the writing on the label. (Hence the title of this posting if you've read this far mystified by the lack of connection between title and content).
Oh well. If that's the worst injury I get running this year I guess it ain't so bad. At least it didn't stop me from sailing on Sunday.
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