Hard Stuff is Supposed to be Hard

I am an adventure geek. I love following stories of racing. I love racers.

At my core, I'm a way overcompetitive kid that wants to win at everything. I am a decent athlete, but I've never been so natural that anything upper level has been easy - I flamed out of college soccer, and am a decidedly mid-pack mountain bike racer and runner.

I just typed that I'm fine with that, but, really, I'm not. I want to be fast, I want to be skinny, I want to dominate. Low goals, I know.

In pursuit of these goals, I have done intervals, turned myself inside out on group rides and practice races, and out-sprinted guys and gals for 10th place. I don't screw around.

In light of this, it probably isn't terribly surprising that videos like this drive me crazy.



Geoff Roes is a total badass. He's won a ton of 100 milers, and last year broke the course record at Western States 100 - one of the most competitive 100 milers in the world.

He says he doesn't really "train" like us mere mortals, he just goes out and runs, every day, up and down mountains.

I wish I could be this Zen. Reasonably decent performances, for me, require effort. I don't always want to run. I don't always want to go out and run for hours. I don't want to get down with Fran, or Tabatas, or go out and practice perfect form on corners on my mountain bike.

And I have a hard time believing that even the most "Zen" of elites never have bad days. Athletic performance is way more like digging a ditch than it is like meditation - and I wish these faux-zen athletes would just admit it.

Hard things are hard, no matter how much you enjoy the end goal. You might love the effort, you might appreciate the process to the fullest extent possible, but that doesn't make pinning your heart rate at 189 for 5 minutes going up a hill "fun" like eating pizza is fun.

I think that elites like Geoff who claim to not care about competitiveness on a day to day level are willfully ignorant of their true state: They care so much about the end result that the day to day slog becomes pleasurable.

Is there anything as motivating as being terrible?

Nothing motivates me like being really, really, incredibly bad at something.

Take cycling. I am not a very talented cyclist. That is just gospel. I don't go down hills like the fast guys, and I certainly don't go up hills like the fast guys. I routinely bobble and fall on stuff in races that I can ride with one foot clipped in when I'm not racing.

I don't have the balls to start fast or the guts to ride hard during the rest of the race. I quit. I neglect my bike, then throw it into the woods when it doesn't work right. I race in a category where I don't belong.

I don't train. I ride. I don't lift, eat well, or try hard.

Why? I mean, I can be pretty focused, I can get all type-A on my life, but the will has been gone. The will has been broken.

Not through failure, but through perceived success.

Two years ago I rode 9:50 ish at the Mohican 100. I'd been gunning for a sub-10 hour hundie for a couple of years. When I hit that goal, I quit trying. I dabbled a bit, but mostly I got fat, made a baby, got a couple of ornery dogs, and turned into a schlub. A tubby, schlubby guy with a hot wife and a baby and dogs.

Not all bad. But I want to be a fast guy with a hot wife and a couple of babies and a couple of dogs.

This weekends complete and total failure at the Big Bear XC gave me some motivation. Nothing like a good old fashioned butt kicking to get the fire burning. I'm just too much of a competitive jerk to enjoy riding, or even kind of enjoy RACING if I'm not competitive.

2 years ago, when I was clinging to the vestiges of my intentional training - intervals, long rides, periodization, I was 10 minutes off the leaders the big bear XC. The past two years I haven't even finished.

It is time to clean off the HRM and get back to training. Nothing is fun until you are good at it. That is especially true of the hard and unforgiving sport of bicycle racing.

Identity

As my life has been in near constant flux for the past 3 years, I've struggled with my recreational identity. I have gone from being a very serious mountain biker (2008-2009) to a schlub that didn't ride at all (2010) to a beefy generalist (2011).

Obviously, this isn't the most serious thing in the world. I think this post might qualify for www.whitewhine.com, but that's cool. I am a big fan of having first world problems.

I guess at the core of my dilemma is the time commitment it takes to be a good endurance athlete. In 2008-2009 I got pretty fast. I rode with oh so pro Chris Michaels and oh so fast and skinny Chris Nichols. I did my best ever 100 miler (9:50 - mid pack madness) and had my best ever result in a mountain bike race - 2nd at ACCC "B" mountain bike championships.

I haven't had the most dramatic of falls, but I never rose to the highest of heights. The thing is, I feel like I was getting close to real fitness, real speed. I really only had one significant problem - hip pain - and a supportive and active spouse who did things like run 50k races and marathons.

In the past few years, though, we've started our careers, we acquired a couple of dogs, and we have started our family. Things are a little more complicated.

I've set goals, then moved ignored them. I've gotten serious for a week or two, then fallen off the training wagon.

Basically, I've been a squiffy, non-committal goof off that hasn't accomplished anything. And I say that about myself with love.

So, as I told Gunnar and Betsy, THIS YEAR IS GONNA BE THE YEAR. I am going to achieve everything. I'm going to vote for Pedro, and all of my wildest dreams are going to come true.

As of December 31st, I will have lost 100 lbs (weight loss goals only count if they're totally unrealistic), and I will win every race I enter: running, mountain biking, skiing (ski-mo, nordic, and downhill, even though I'm no good at any of those disciplines right now). I'm also going to win the Crossfit games, and beat hercules in an arm-wrestling match.

Have I ever mentioned that I was a totally dreamy and totally egotistical kid? I came up with the all time greatest one-wish: To be a million times better than the very best at every single thing in the world. It is the ultimate trump card.

But I digress.

This year, I am trying to move away from unrealistic, event and achievement focused goals to lifestyle and training goals. I'd like to ride my bikes three thousand miles this year. I'd like to run 500. I want to spend time outside every single day.

I will have a sub 6 minute "Fran."

I will fiddle with my diet until I find a set of eating habits that leads to a skinnier, healthier feeling Andrew.

Will I race? Undoubtedly. I'll race until I'm too old to get out of the house. Then I'll just talk on the internet about how awesome I am/was.

Until then, though, I'm going to focus on habits, on lifestyle changes, on process, instead of on events, on races, and on results. I'm not trying to be a non-commital loser, I'm trying to figure out how much I can commit to my various hobbies and pursuits.

Next year, though, I might regress a bit and dive back into the type-a racer boi mindset. But we'll see how this year goes, first.