Well, I am home again after 3 weeks on the road. Won’t be much time for me to put butt prints in my couch, and I’ll be on the road again shortly, but for now….I am home.
I spent the last 3 and a half weeks in Florida.
My trip had a little bit of everything…..racing, training, exhaustion, and RnR all wrapped into a little package of sunshine in central Florida.
My trip started back on January 5 with my DaveyG.
Last summer, when I was in the breakdown lane, we started to frame my schedule for the coming season…..anything to help me believe I’d race again. Since I knew it’d be a while before I’d be ready to race a triathlon again, we started small; 5K here…..10K there. I finally got “ambitious” and decided on a ½ marathon as a good training exercise. I wanted to put myself thru race preparations, both physically and mentally. Even in the “off season”, and particularly for me with an extended off season this year, I think it’s good to get up and race every now and again.
We decided on the Disney ½ Marathon. About 100 years ago before my DaveyG was my DaveyG and was “just” my boyfriend….and my brand new boyfriend at that, we’d been talking about my running. I was a passionate (though not particularly talented) runner at the time (some things clearly never change). I hadn’t run a fall marathon that year because I was busy trying to make DaveyG fall in love with me, so by late fall, I was itching to run.
Desperate to impress me (see? My plot worked…..he was smitten!), Dave agreed to run the Disney ½ while I ran the full. It’d be our first “vacation” together. Right around the time we got our wake up call on race morning (at 3 AM for a 5:30AM race start), I think Dave wondered what he’d gotten himself into. I think he’s wondered that every day ever since, but God bless him for putting up with me!
Despite the un-Holy start time, we had a blast at Disney back then. I have to admit? I am a sucker for Disney. It truly is that happiest place on earth. I love it all….the parks, the music, the characters. All the insanely over-the-top-happiness is all a massive disguise to distract you from the hassle of it all; the lines, the massive expense, and the not so subtle attempt of Disney to sell you every little piece of crap trinket that you don’t need, branded with a Disney character of sorts. And I fall for it; hook, line and sinker.
So the decision to go back to race Disney all these years later was an easy one. Easy flight, lots of lodging options, and Mickey Mouse coffee mugs, and Donald Duck toothbrushes for all!
Just as that day years and years ago, our alarm went off at 3AM. Grumble.
We were moved by bus to a parking lot outside Epcot Center, though we’d have to take their word for it. It was pitch dark and even if it hadn’t been, it was a highway in the middle of nowhere. We’d soon learn that there were some 26,000 registered runners for the ½ Marathon. Are you kidding me? 26,000? For a half marathon??! The hair on the back of my neck stood up to think of the nightmare of it all. The crowded start coral. The endless port-o-potty lines. The quiet little race we’d done some (gulp) 14 years ago had grown into a behemoth nightmare.
We made our way thru bag check without issue and jogged our way to the start line. No crowds. We passed line after line after line of port-o-potties and waited (wait for it…..) not once! For 26,000 runners, I think they had 26,001 potties at the ready. I was impressed. (it’s the little things, after all). If Disney knows how to do one thing….it knows how to move people with efficiency and ease and this “little” 26,000 person strong ½ marathon was no exception. It was effortless.
Before we knew it we were off. Raced, reunited, returned to our hotel, napped, and had breakfast…..and it was still only 11AM. Kinda made that 5:30AM start time seem….not so bad!
We spent the rest of the afternoon in the sun, lounging by the pool and resting up for our evening of fun. As a treat for our hard work (I was 9th overall and first Master (though I cringed at the idea of being in the Master’s category), and just off a PR and DaveyG posted a 5 minute PR!), we bought tickets for Cirque du Soleil at Downtown Disney.
In a word? Cirque was the most unbelievable thing I have ever seen in my entire life. Like….EVER. OK, that’s more than a word…I’d more like…several words, but the show was stunning. We sat there in the front row, and for 90 minutes or so, I was totally mesmerized. Watching the performance made me feel like a chooch of an athlete. The things these people did defy gravity, logic and in a lot of instances…..sanity. It was amazing.
After the show, we treated ourselves to a nice fat dinner with some nicer wine than we probably should have splurged on…but what the heck?
It was a great start to the trip.
With our brief RnR over, the next morning, we packed up and left Disney and made our way over to Clermont. For the past several years, I’d done some wintertime training in Austin. This year, as I was trying to figure out my travel to Florida then home, then figure out how to get to Austin and then off to some early season races, DaveyG quietly suggested, “Why not just stay in Florida and train. Go back to Clermont and don’t deal with the hassle of the added travel?”
I knew I liked this guy. What a genius!
I’d trained in Clermont years ago for just a 10-day stint or so. I’d been OK, but I’d come to prefer Austin. This year though, changing things up felt right. What a refreshing change!
Thru my good friends Kimberly and Kevin Grogan at Gear for Multisport, we got hooked up with an amazing condo rental right on Lake Minneola. It was a perfect place. Beautifully finished, equipped with large screen TVs in each of the 3 rooms of the condo, a comfy couch, a great bathtub for alternating epsom salt and ice baths after long days of training, close to the National Training Center and situated right on a bike path; perfect for running off the bike every day.
I settled into the condo, and a day or so later, was forced to say goodbye to DaveyG. It was time for us both to get back to work; he in Boston, and me doing what I do.
From there, things got a little blurry. One day blended into the next: swim, bike, run, eat, sleep, run, bike, swim, lift, stretch, eat, run, swim, bike, sleep, eat…..you get the point. For 3 solid weeks, I flirted with sheer exhaustion, but was impressed with my body’s resilience. Most days, I’d get up and think, “I don’t know if I can do it again today.” And with the exception of one truly terrible day where I literally couldn’t turn the pedals over on the bike, every day I got thru some significant training, putting massive deposits in both the fitness and confidence banks!
While quite flat, the central Florida roads are great training grounds. Mostly quiet and with little traffic, I logged miles and miles (and miles) on the bike. Ample wind on most days added a challenge that the flat topography didn’t offer on its own. I had great rides; with Patrick Evoe, with Nina Kraft, with Kimberly Grogan and with my new friend, Boki. Some days, I was content to ride alone.
The bike trail around Lake Minneola was perfect for brick runs, and thanks again to Kimberly and Kevin and Gear for MultiSport for the water cooler on the corner of their yard. It saved my life on more than one occasion!
A short drive away was the Clay Trail. Closed to vehicle traffic, the clay trail was one of the most joyful places I’ve ever run; holding a candle to running The Dish at Stanford and the Battle Trail in Lexington, MA. The Clay Trail is just under 10 miles of clay road covered in sand. It’s footing isn’t great, but it’s soft surface means you can run all day and not get hurt. There are lots of hills; great for building early season strength! You run thru citrus orchards, which smells delightful. I felt like I could run there all day….and for me….that’s saying something!
If there was one gem more treasured than the Clay Trail, it was the NTC outdoor 50 meter pool. Of course, given the volume and stress of my training while I was there, I had days were I feared I wouldn’t make it from one end to the other, but there’s one thing you just can’ t beat…..outdoor, 50 meter water. LOVE IT.
What did I not love about my time in Clermont? Not much!
I wasn’t a huge fan of the US Track and Field Team. Don’t get me wrong; talented and gifted they are; but comfortable to run with on the track? Eggghhhh…..
During my second week, I headed to the track after a hard interval session on the bike. That’s a polite way of saying….I was dragging ass….a little more than even normal when I head to the track. When I arrived, I noted an unusual number of cars parked around the track. Only then did I notice the 30+ athletes leaping over hurdles like they were an inch tall, and running circles on the track that left Road Runner-esque like plumes of smoke behind their fast feet.
“They are sprinters,” I thought, “How long can they really spend on the track?” I started my warm up. And I ran. And I ran. And I ran. After about 8 miles of warm up, I decided they could spend quite a bit of time on the track. Sheepishly, I walked onto the track and asked someone who looked to be in charge if it was OK if I ran some miles.
“Oh, sure, honey. They’ll get out of your way”.
Gulp.
We’ll cut to the chase and just say, simply, I felt like the fat girl at prom. The track is not somewhere I feel….um, “at ease” on a good day. Running with a good chunk of the US Track and Field sprint group….yeah…that didn’t help.
As I warmed down, I thought to invite them to come swimming with me….just to try to salvage any ounce of self-respect I might have had left. Instead, I slid off the track and begged Karen for a treadmill session the following week so as to not have to show my face down at the track again.
Even in the pool, I was dealt a dose of humble pie from time to time! Clermont is bustling with loads of triathletes in training…..mostly of the ITU variety. I joined these young, fast pups for a swim or two and it didn’t take long to feel my age and distinct lack of fast twitch muscle fiber! But what a welcoming group! They posted their training sessions and were always welcoming for people to come along. They were a really friendly group and I was so pleased to get to know them, even just a little and will cheer their efforts as they head to London in 2012.
So that’s where I am at. I am back home, and while Riley the Wonderdog didn’t pee on the floor when I got home out of pure joy, she’s been reluctant to leave my side, so I’ll take that as a sign that I was missed. DaveyG didn’t pee on the floor either, but I know we’re happy to be back together for at least a little while before I start the next journey.
My mother-in-law sent this to me. I thought it was worth sharing. New year. New perspective. Laser focus on what matters and utterly forget who and what doesn't. That's my motto!
The Charles Schulz Philosophy
(Scroll thru slowly and read carefully to receive and enjoy full effect)
The following is the philosophy of Charles Schulz, the creator of the 'Peanuts' comic strip.
You don't have to actually answer the questions.
Just read the e-mail straight through, and you'll get the point.
1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.
2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.
3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America pageant.
4 Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.
5. Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor and actress.
6. Name the last decade's worth of World Series winners.
How did you do?
The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday.
These are no second-rate achievers.
They are the best in their fields.
But the applause dies..
Awards tarnish..
Achievements are forgotten.
Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.
Here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:
1. List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.
2. Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.
3. Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.
4. Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.
5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.
Easier?
The lesson:
The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the
most credentials, the most money...or the most awards.
They simply are the ones who care the most
Pass this on to those people who have either made a difference in your life,
or whom you keep close in your heart, like I did.
'Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It's already tomorrow in Australia !''
I had started a blog not long ago, recapping my awesome year. (note the use of sarcasm).
I had entitled my blog "The Year of Awesome". It was a running joke between a friend and I earlier in the year; she had been having awful shoulder problems and was sidelined for much of the summer. She'd quipped in an email, "It's truly been the summer of awesome. We should have t-shirts made and wear them out drinking."
I think she was on to something there.......
In my sarcastic blog about the Summer of Awesome which quickly became the Year of Awesome, I had photos....because everything is better with funny photos.
My "Year of Awesome" had included yet another abysmal performance at Ironman Texas which left me in the med tent: (thanks, Cat Morrison for capturing the moment for me......NOT)
And then there was Germany, which made the med tent look like Romper Room:
And of course "Awesome-est" of all, there was Chippy who we miss every day:
As I typed up my incredibly self deprecating blog, the joyful "ping" on my computer sounded, indicating "new email". I clicked over and saw an email to my Team Psycho triahlon team from Spence Cocanour. Spence is in the airforce. I don't know is official job or his rank, but I do know that he's got a super sharp wit and any email from Spence is worth a read. So I read it.
And as I read it, I realized that my "Year of Awesome" blog wasn't really all that funny. Sure, I was admitting defeat.....Spence was funnier than I (sigh)....but moreover, I realized that while I've had a really shitty year (and it's been shitty with a capital S), all that shit is.....just shit. Everyone's got their shit that happens.
At the end of the day, I am lucky and blessed to have the best husband, the best dog, a nice home, a great job, a supportive family, and despite a few broken bones.....I have my health. So thanks, Spence! Thanks for a good laugh, a dose of perspective and most of all, thanks for your service. Because of guys like Spence, all our shit here at home is just that! Remember that this Christmas when you don't get what you wanted from Santa, or when your brother or sister's kids drive you batty, or when your in-laws bring you to the verge of insanity. Through it all, we're all pretty darn lucky.
Merry Christmas! Appreciate your greatest gifts this holiday season!
From Spence Cocanour to Team Psycho - Top 10 reasons why being in Afghanistan for Christmas rocks!
1. No Christmas TV commercials: We don’t have normal TV here. We get AFN, which is sort of like normal TV if Big Brother ran the network. The good news is, you don’t have to worry about another ad from Toys r Us.
2. No getting stuck at the airport: Every year there are tons of people who spend significantly more time at the airport than they intended. Not to mention, if you do happen to get on a plane, you know that thing is packed to the gills.
3. I carry a gun: Sure anyone can carry a gun but here I’m supposed to. Admit it, at some point in the last month you desperately wanted to shoot someone who desperately needed it.
4. Enforcement of the "Naughty List" with extreme prejudice: Let’s just say if you have naught plans with an RPG you’re going to get more than just coal in your stocking.
5. No slaving away all day cooking: We pay people to work at the chow hall and they don’t make a half bad turkey.
6. Not getting nagged about wearing something “Festive”: Nothing says Merry Christmas more than a set of multicams.
7. No crying children: Now we might get a crying man/women but they are normally from the Army. We just tell them to HTFU.
8. No visit with the in laws/crazy relatives: You know you’re going to get cornered by that one aunt who’s going to tell you in great detail about her gallbladder surgery, giddy up!
9. No looking for parking places: When you drive a Lightweight Tactical All Terrain Vehicle mounted with heavy weapons, you can park anywhere you damn well please.
10. Being here with some of the finest America has to offer: Each man and women that work for me here is a volunteer. Sure if you twist our arm we would admit we would rather be home than Afghanistan, but we have a job to do. It is an honor to serve our great nation that has given us so much. So bottom line, we want you to have the best damn Christmas you can. Don’t feel sad for us, be proud.
Since it’s been a while since I’ve been able to race due to my Humpty Dumpty-like heroics of this past summer, I figured the best I could do whilst biding my time until my tri season begins would be to run a few 5K and 10K races to “stretch my race muscles” the best I could; to go thru the pre-race routine in some shape or form so that when I toe the line, my body is only 99% in shock instead of 100%.
I’d raced a few weeks back in a 5K and had deliberately sought out a small race where I’d most certainly know no one and where my nearest competitor would be 12. I succeeded on both counts, though I will say that she was a very fast 12 year old! So the win still counted!
This time, I stayed a little closer to home, and went just across the Charles River into Cambridge for the Cambridge Yulefest; a race with nearly 1000 runners.
The day started out like this. It was cold. I was cranky.
When the alarm sounded, I immediately moaned. The thermometer read 19. “Ugh, do I have to go?”
DaveyG looked at me and said, “I have a 2 hour run…..wanna trade?”
“Quit your whining,” I snapped. “Um, hello? Pot??,” he retorted.
Fair enough.
So I bundled up like Nanook of the North and headed out. I decided it was best to park near Harvard Stadium; I knew the parking situation there and knew I could park for about $3. Getting closer to Harvard Square would cost me ten-fold and add considerably to my already raging headache.
I pulled into my parking spot and glanced over at the track and did a double take to see someone actually ON IT, doing 200 and 400 meter repeats. He had a face mask on, and I immediately started to wonder….why do we live here?
I went about a warm up down near the track. The wind was howling, making the temperature, which now read 23 feel more like 3. My warm up was also entirely ineffective. “Warm” and “23 degrees” just don’t go hand in hand. It’d have to be good enough.
I reluctantly dropped a few layers at the car and finished my warm up by running the final stretch up to Harvard Square. Retrieved my number and scouted out a spot inside a restaurant that had graciously opened its doors to the freezing runners.
With about 15’ to go, I headed back out to try to warm up again. Not sure what made me think that the second time around would be any better, but for whatever reason, I felt like I had to try.
I lined up for the start next to the only person I could find who looked more miserable than me; a “runner dude” who couldn’t have weighed more than 130 pounds at 6 feet tall. He was wearing a thin long sleeve t-shirt and singlet and shorts. I’d elected to keep on all my layers; full tights, 2 long sleeve Saucony dry weave shirts and a Saucony jacket.
I nodded at my skinny corral neighbor, but we didn’t talk much. Both shivering too much.
As the gun fired, I set my goals high. “I hope to feel my feet by the end of the 2nd mile”.
I did not meet my goal. But I’d gone thru the first mile and felt ….dare I say….good? Clicked thru mile 2 still feeling pretty sassy. By mile 3…..good lord. I am going to PR! But where is that dang finish line?
As I made my way across the finish, I looked at my watch: 19:17. How is that even possible? That’s what I ran 3 weeks ago, but this time, my mile splits were a lot (A LOT) better. I was too cold to stress out about it. It was, after all, a 5K and was just “an exercise”.
I collected my award from Santa, and ran back to my car. When I downloaded the data, I found the course was, indeed, long. Sweet relief. At least my math skills weren’t deficient. My run stills still may well be, but at least my math skills are intact. Another friend concurred. Thank God for Garmin!
So another 5K and another win. While 2 is not a trend, I’ll take it. Best pace ever run for a 5K ever (sad, I know…but true….don’t mock the run challenged!), but robbed of a "true PR" because the course was long. And all on a day where my attitude was "questionable" at best, and one where Mother Nature reminded us that winter is upon us!
Kudos to the other runners. Festive spirits abound; there was the Gingerbread Man, who gets bonus points for practical costume selection on a freezing cold day.....
Then there's the Grinch, who looked equally warm, but is going to have to have a serious facial to get that green gook off his face.....
And then my personal favorite......don't even get me started on the 99%. Bah-humbug.
I had my first “race” in the PC (post crash) era. And man, it was a dozy.
I woke up on race morning and you’d have thought it was race morning in Kona. I had a major case of the nerves. Yet this was no Ironman World Championship. This was a community 5K Turkey Trot with some 300 runners. Tell it to my nerves.
We made our way down to the race site, DaveyG in tow, not as my 5K Sherpa, but as a fellow competitor!
During our warm up, I didn’t say much. DaveyG was chatting up a storm. I think we go opposite ways when nerves creep in. He becomes a chatty cathy and I shut the (bleep) up.
As we approached the start line, we were sized up by some of the other runners. “You guys look fast. You’ll probably win this,” he said, as he acknowledged my DaveyG. Humbly, DaveyG laughed and said, “I just look the part.” The same guy asked what pace we’d run. I answered him, adding on…. “if I’m lucky”.
As the gun fired, I made sure not to make my first 500 meters at 5:30 pace. A) that is not sustainable for my diesel engine and B) I’d be likely to not make it to 1000 meters if I did.
The guy who’d sized us up before the race was a former miler. He was hoping to run around 20 minutes, but thought his first mile would be around 6:00. “Wow….you are a worse pacer than I am when it comes to this”. I resisted the urge to tell him that if he went out at 6:20 pace, he might be able to sustain it and blah, blah, blah…..
Sure enough, round about the ½ mile mark, I passed Mr. Miler. He accelerated a step or two with me and then fell off. If felt bad for him, imagining the world of hurt he must have been in to get off the line at 5:30 pace the way he did.
I went thru the mile just fine. A few seconds ahead of pace, but not terribly off. The next mile was a struggle and the final mile….well, I put my body into shock. It’s not used to running that hard when I haven’t done my best Humpty Dumpty impression, and this, being my first race back PC….well, my legs and lungs were more than quietly asking me, “WTF?”
With a half mile to go, there were two guys right ahead of me. I surged and passed, but went a bit too soon. They surged back and I had……nuthin’. You can see here, I must have subconsciously thought that running with my mouth open might aid oxygen flow. Either that, or I was looking for some extra protein and trying to catch some flies.
I won the race (for the women), outsprinting what looked to be a 12 year old for the title. (OK, she was more like a minute back…but I was impressed to see such a youngster at the pointy end of the race!).
Just 2 finishers and only a handful of seconds back, wouldn’t you know it? My DaveyG! Almost a full minute faster than expected! After a moment of stress and the realization that our family dynamic could have changed considerably had I been on the other side of those few seconds (!!), I was immensely proud of his effort.
I did remember back to a time when DaveyG cleaned my clock in a 5K we ran together in Hoboken, NJ. He's a talented little bugger. Gonna have to keep an eye out for that one!
As we warmed down, I couldn’t help but be a little bit bummed. I thought I’d have been faster. I didn’t execute the race especially well, and Lord knows, it felt like h-e-double-hockey-sticks. When I settled down, however, I realized that I ran some 18 seconds faster than my 5K season opener last year, when I thought I’d had a pretty good race. I was only 15 seconds off a 5K PR, which, I'd established at the end of a season that was rife with PRs and extraordinary results. And here I am, at the start of a season, and in the PC era, where I need to not forget......I am lucky to be running at all.
So maybe my goals for a PR in my first race were a little……off. I’m feeling so good, it’s hard to remember that I broke half my body in an accident that could have easily ended my career. So while it's good to aim high (which I am), a dose of reality and perspective from time to time can be valuable as well (still working on that one).
So there’s one in the books. No land speed records, by any stretch. But I’m healthy, and I am out there fighting the fight. While it’s not an Ironman or a 70.3 (I’m not quite ready for that just yet......almost....but not quite), it’s a race. And a win. And not a bad way to close out “The Year of Awesome”. I've got a long way to go....but I've come pretty darn far, too.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some training to get done. Gotta keep a half a step ahead of DaveyG. He isn’t making this easy!
A week ago today, Smyers and I had the honor and the privilege of testing out Saucony’s brand spanking new run lab. It did not disappoint!
We arrived at Saucony mid-morning. The lobby area is like Candyland, full off all sorts of styles of shoes, not only from Saucony, but from Keds, Sperry and other members of the Collective Brands Family.
Saucony’s office itself, my sneaker ADD kicked into overdrive. Literally, shoes and apparel are EVERYWHERE. Samples and past models line the office space in every nook and cranny. At the end of the long walkway (lined, with a 1-lane track, of course) is the pièce de résistance (or torture chamber….depending on how you want to look at it); the Saucony Run Lab.
The Run Lab has been a work in progress for the better part of a year and likely, the planning extends back longer than that.
When you enter the lab, there are 2 treadmills, each costing more than my car. One treadmill is for VO2 Max testing….we’ll revisit that one another time. This visit, we were focused on the treadmill, surrounded by a staging area, (presumably so you don’t fall off!). At each corner of the treadmill was a high-speed camera, costing roughly more than my house.
Karen and I were each filmed, but first, we had to be “prepped”. All reflective material on our run gear and shoes was covered, so as to not cause interference with the special little light probes. We were each decorated like a Christmas tree with little light probes at key joints and “moving places” on our bodies. Here’s Karen getting “dolled up” (sucks to be the one who forgot her camera, thus making you the target for the one who remembered hers!).
Once “stuck” with the little light probes, the lights and high-speed cameras capture every little micro movement. You appear, as a series of dots on a computer monitor. I think Spencer, the lab boss, had his fill of Karen and I dancing instead of running!
So not only can they capture micro movements in your body, but because the treadmill is equipped with force plate technology, they can measure each foot strike, determine the percentage of heel strike (me) versus forefoot strike (Smyers). They can determine imbalances between legs (me….post crash). The high speed cameras detect how muscles are firing, how your foot is landing, etc.
In short, we were lab rats for a day. They capture SO much data (mine, likely to set the curve on the low end, if you catch my drift), it boggles the mind.
We’ll head back (benefit of being local) so Spencer can dissect the session and suggest ways that we can both run like the wind!
I’m not gonna lie. It’s been a rough year. Typically at this time of year, I get a little blue; the leaves on the trees turn color, which, while stunningly beautiful, is really just a sign that we’re heading into a long, and usually brutal winter. Winter is a bit of a dreary time for a triathlete in Boston. More indoor cycling than you can shake a stick at, running in sleet, snow, slush and on ice. I’ve long believed that the tough conditions we have to face here in the winter make New England triathletes tougher than most, so I suppose it’s a blessing, but most definitely also a curse.
This year, however, I find myself begging the leaves to fall off the trees and cheering the arrival of winter. Not that I want to wish away time, but I will celebrate the arrival of 2012 in a big way. Not just because we’ll be celebrating the wedding of our best good friends Hillary and Maiki on New Year’s Eve, but because I think both DaveyG and I have had about all we can handle this year and are ready to turn the page to a new and better year ahead.
Good things have already started happening for the new year, so we’re off to a stunning start already for 2012. Most notably, I am pleased to announce that the University Club of Boston has elected to continue its sponsorship support into 2012. I couldn’t be more pleased with this partnership.
Founded in 1891, (ironically, the same year Stanford was organized!), The University Club is Boston’s premier social and athletic club. While The Club has had a few different homes around the city in its history, its current home is in the heart of Copley Square.
DaveyG and I first joined The University Club when we moved to Boston. I’d come to learn that the “UClub”, as its affectionately referred to, had a proper 4-lane, 25 yard pool. Other than MIT and Harvard, proper length swimming pools were not easy to come by in Boston at the time. The UClub was so conveniently located, just a block and a half from my office and about 5 blocks from my home, AND with a beautiful, old 25 yard pool that NO ONE ever swam in? We couldn’t resist.
DaveyG and I attended the “new member” cocktail reception when we first joined The Club in 2000 and I wondered if we’d made a mistake. No one wanted to talk to me. “What? You don’t play squash?” “How can you not have a squash ranking?” While I tried to joke about how it was a bad idea for me to have any sort of bat, club, racquet or stick in my hand; particularly when there were flying balls involved, my fellow new members seemed genuinely concerned about my future wellbeing without the game of squash as a part of it. So I slumped in the corner, sipping my chardonnay, and quietly cherished the jewel 2 floors below, even if it made me a social leper.
A few years later, it was decided that the pool needed a bit of a face lift. The pool was closed so that it might undergo a pretty radical makeover; new lighting, lofted ceiling, new tile, hot tub, locker space, and aquatics office space. When all was said and done, my cherished jewel shined like a proper jewel should.
This new blessing became a curse, which has now come full circle and become a blessing again.
You see, once revitalized, the pool became very popular. What was once made to feel like my own private oasis was now……crowded? I used to walk down the steps to the pool to find I was the only swimmer in the entire pool. Post-makeover, there were several times I had to........ wait for a lane? I wasn’t sure I liked it…….
But out of this fascination with the new pool came not only new interest in getting in some laps as a workout every now and then, but a real, genuine interest in swimming. The Club hired a new professional to help build a Master’s swimming program under the direction of the Aquatics Director. Then, when spring came around, the swimmers started wondering……could we bike and run too?
Nearly 2 years after its inception, the UClub Master’s Swim Team has grown from 8 members, swimming 3 workouts per week to approximately 40 active members, participating in 7 coached workouts per week. The team participates in local and regional meets; approximately 5 per year. The youngest team member is 22. The oldest is 83.
The triathlon program started from nothing. There once was a time at the UClub where ladies in the locker room would look at me kinda crooked and say, “You do what??” But now, the UClub has a triathlon team that is nearly 25 athletes strong. While some team members came from athletic backgrounds (rowers, runners, cyclists), almost none of them had triathlon experience, yet now, less than 18 months later, team members are racing in all triathlon distances from sprints up to half Ironman distance races. Some are even considering toeing the line for a full Ironman.
The enthusiasm of this group is infectious and every time I head up to the UClub to train; be it to swim, get a treadmill session in, or hit the gym for some strength work, I am inspired by this group of “beginners” who are now sporting full training and race kits, are learning about wattage, heart rate training, race nutrition, triathlon equipment and who are challenging themselves each and every day to be more fit, more healthy and to become better triathletes. Sure, they still look at me every now and again and say “You ran how far today?”……but more and more, their training numbers are looking a lot more like mine and I love it!
18 months ago, the tri group got together and wanted to help support me. The Club waived my dues as a show of support and sponsorship. They helped with travel money for my trip to Kona and to Cozumel last year.
When I arrived home with performances that were disappointing to say the least, I never got one look of disappointment or disapproval, but got pats on the back and kicks in the butt to get back to the pool, get back in the gym, get back on the treadmill and get back to work.
Then this year, after my encounter with the pavement in Germany, when I arrived at the UClub for a “swim” 3 days after my accident, and was overwhelmed with the outpouring of support from members and employees alike. The Aquatics Director nearly wept to see me clutching to the lane-line after less than 200 yards, unable to swim, sharing in my concerns for the future of my career.
Not dwelling in what had happened, though, members of the swim and triathlon community mobilized to help while I was immobilized. I had an outpouring of support and offers of help like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my life. “I can I come walk your dog?” “Let me drive you around so you can run some errands.” “My husband works at MGH and we’re going to get you in to see the best trauma ortho in Boston.” “Can I go grocery shopping for you?”
And so on…….
And so on………
And so on………….
I was watching “The Blind Side” the other day on TV. I was struck by the conversation between Mrs. Touhy and her “lunch friends”. “You’re changing that boy’s life,” her friend said. “No, he’s changing mine.”
Truer words couldn’t be spoken about my relationship with the University Club. I feel guilty sometimes. Here I think I am supposed to be a role model for new triathletes, inspiring them to try new things they never thought were possible; to push the envelope and achieve things they couldn’t have imagined. But instead, they inspire me every single day with their dedication, their passion and their incredible munificence and their genuine interest in helping me in my career to continue to achieve.
Thank you to the University Club of Boston; the employees, the membership and most of all, the incredible members of the Master’s Swim and Tri teams for your continued support into the new year. The relationship means a lot to me.
Onward to 2012. It’s gonna be a good one, knowing that The UClub’s got my back….and I’ve got theirs!
For more information on the University Club of Boston, please visit www.uclub.org
