Assassins

In the 1995 movie Assassins, Bain (Antonia Banderas) is commissioned to kill the world's #1 Assassin, Rath (Sylvester Stalone).  As the story unfolds, Rath goes to a bank to withdraw this life's earnings (Bank of the Grand Cayman?) and retire.  As Luck (Fate? Poor screen-writing?) would have it this is the same bank that his predecessor was leaving 10 years prior when he killed him to become the world's #1 Assassin.  This is where Bain sets up to take the title...

I bring this up because life is filled with these role reversals - the child becomes a parent, the student becomes a teacher, the athlete becomes a coach.  As a coach, it continues to amaze me how often the exact same situations arise from when I was an athlete, but now I'm in the opposite role.  Like many before me, my knee jerk reaction is to act just as my coaches did, to repeat history.  But if I give myself an extra minute or sometimes just a second, I can do better.  See I have a secret ability - I am a man.  While that implies many things (like never needing to ask for directions, ability to fix anything, and naivety to take all conversations at face value), what I intend it to mean here is that I have never grown up.  For all intents and purposes I have unlimited access to a wormhole that takes me back to 1995 (really anytime from 1988 - 2003).  It's as if my left big toe is always sticking through this wormhole and any time I need to; I can do a side lunge back through and FEEL what it's like to be 15 again.  With all the raging hormones, the thoughts, the motivations.  I can be young, skinny, and scar free.  In this way I can figure out how better to react to these current 15 year olds and take appropriate action (and in a small way do penance for past transgressions).  This is one way I am a student of history - my own personal history - and how I learn from the past.

But I must always remember to give myself that extra time to reflect - to use the wormhole!

Building Teams, Building Memories

Yesterday was frigidly cold again, so I gave the athletes the option to cross train indoors or run outdoors.  I was more than happy to stay indoors (as I knew I had a 10 hour shift delivering that evening).  Thus most of us went into the cardio room.  Indoor stationary bikes are the second worst exercise endeavor (eclipsed only by the treadmill), but it ended up being pretty fun.  We got the TV on and were answering "Cash Cab" trivia, a couple athletes were studying Spanish.  We then had an impromptu "Endurance Battle of the Sexes".

Here were the ground rules:
1) Boys v. Girls - the sex of the last competitor earned his or her team a point
2) Three competitions - Wall Sits, Flexed Arm Hang, and Plank

First up was the Wall Sits - I've done these before and usually the girls dominate.  Oh man did they ever!  By three minutes, we were done to our last boy (I was competing too), but not a single girl had dropped.  The last boy made it to 4 minutes...  Still EVERY girl, beat EVERY boy!      Girls 1, Boys 0

Then came the flexed arm hang.  I thought the boys would do better at this...  Three rounds of two boys vs two girls, the team winning the most rounds won a point.  The boys were pretty dominate on this one winning 2 of the 3 rounds.  (The one they lost went 1:15, the two they won were both about 1:00 - just had a tough set of girls on one round)  Girls 1, Boys 1

Now the competition was on!  We planked up, boys facing girls about 18 inches apart.  Trash talking and mind games rampant.  1:15 in the first girl faltered.  Her older sister exclaiming, "Seriously???? WTF???"  More heckling from her gender.  About two minutes two boys and another girl fade - no heckling this time as everyone was starting to feel the burn.  Three minutes - one more boy and one female coach.  Down to two males (me and another boy) and 5 girls (4 State Qualifying girls in XC, and a coach).  I start to worry.  Usually I dread doing the plank - I feel it's the thing I'm worst at.  Yet here I am, somehow trying to represent my gender in a way it should be represented.  3:15 - Shoot - the last boy is out (and the female coach).  1 against 4.  At this point everyone starts cheering loudly, but it's getting tough.  Not so much in my core (abs, back, or even legs) but up in my arms, my head, and my ears.  They're just throbbing, trembling, no longer pumping blood and oxygen, just acid and rust.  It started feeling like the last lap of a mile. When time slows.  When training and talent mean little, as everything hurts.  The only thing that matters is courage.  Just getting to that line.  Yet here there was no line.  Just three solid planks (and one tired one).  Finally the tired plank dropped about 3:45.  I made it to 4:00 but knew resistance was futile and gave in.  Girls win!!!

These are the kind of days the athletes will remember, the days that bring them together.  A great day for all of us.  Oh and my head hurt the entire night from that plank effort.  But as Chuck Palahniuk wrote in "Fight Club" - Being tired isn't the same as being rich, but most times it's close enough.


Today I am a rich man.

A New Chapter

As a competitive runner (or coach of runners) in cross country and track, quickly it becomes apparent the longitudinal and cyclical patterns of your sport.  Each year growing and improving.  Each year getting older and wiser (hopefully), marching forward to graduation, to accomplished goals, to a career.  Within those years cycles.  Each track season leading to a cross country season.  Each cross country season leading to track.  Cross country with a brand new crop of runners and a focus on the team.  Tackling all sorts of terrain, and surfaces, running by feel.  Track - A focus on technique and much more individual.   Exact, precise - 400m at 70 seconds with 90 seconds rest, repeat until just before legs fall off.  Each different, each necessary.  This blog is my attempt to better analyze these pursuits.  To see where I've been, where I am, and ultimately where I'm going.