24 Days To Go - Nodding OffI was proud of myself for making it through the night without sleep because of the jack-hammering and trucks ripping West 10th into a war-zone all night. I departed my humble abode, attacked a stationary bike for a bit at New York Sports Club's 24 hour location and then I hit the pool in the Crowne Plaza location at 6 a.m. for a 2+ mile swim in an hour.
I was granted a small gift in that I'm normally stuck sharing a lane with a time limit of 30 minutes, but today, everyone else was forced to share lanes while I got my own for double the length of time. I took advantage of it by not slowing down in the second half of my swim and was further rewarded with seeing myself passing other swimmers easily in lanes next to me. I've often been frustrated by feeling so slow in comparison to most others while trying to take comfort in knowing I'm swimming much longer distances than they are but today was different.
I continually caught, passed and lapped people to either side of me, minute after minute as I ground my way along, churning up the blue with everything I had in my arms. Thoroughly refreshed, I raced to the Times Square red line and grabbed the 1 train down to Sheridan Square where I hopped out and walk-jogged to The Printing House Gym for a 10th floor view of the city and a final 1.5 hour, all-out, quad-ripping ride with the sole intention of emptying my tanks. By the end, an enormous pond of sweat was slowly oozing across the floor under the bike - yea, gross, but satisfying in some way to be able to push that hard for that extended period of time all morning on just 3 hours of sleep since Sunday and here I was on Wednesday morning.
That was about the end of me though. I ran home, showered off and raced to the desk job where I set to work excitedly. That lasted for about an hour before the "big-time nods" hit me. I didn't know what to do and at one point retreated to a bathroom stall to just sit on a toilet for a five minute nap since there was no other place for me to "hide" and grab a Z. I sit in the middle of a huge loft-office for the inspection of all and I was too aware that people were probably wondering when I would fall out of my chair. I tried slouching down to hide behind my monitors to no avail.
Then a miracle happened. I somehow caught a third or fourth or fifth wind (or whatever number it was). I was suddenly wide-awake and rolling along for most of the rest of the day until finishing up at 7 p.m. I even had some major break throughs on tough accounts and some sales to help push my monthly numbers a dash higher as July bears down on me.
All in all, it wasn't the best of my plans to stay awake all night and do that amount of exertion before trying to work and it was definitely a struggle. Oddly, here I am at almost 2 a.m. and I'm doing just fine. I've always found the human body to be so much more capable than we give it credit for. When pushed, it gives...and I think it just comes down to the fact that we rarely push ourselves out to our limits.
I've often been asked why I do certain things like this and the best answer I can come up with is that I find that it's only when I really get out to the edge of things do I truly feel alive despite being dead tired. I like to think of it as the difference between existing and living. I had a point in here somewhere but it seems to have nodded off in the course of writing this so I will simply finish in saying that it's my hope that if you have never done so, that at least once in your life you throw your lines to the dock, sail away from safety and point your bow for that edge somewhere out there that only you can find for yourself. Just once. Trust me, you'll remember that moment more than most any other in your lifetime.
With that, I give you a polite nod and bid you good night.
25 Days To Go - TwiredIt's 3:18 a.m. on June 29. I'm on the roof of my building "tired and wired" thinking of the miles ahead. A coworker who is much more trained than I am did a half-Iron Man this past weekend and told me horror stories of the people who did not finish or "DNF's" giving up by puking in 95 degree heat in the middle of the run portion.
I'm not encouraged by the news, yet I'm not entirely deterred by it either. Something inside tells me that I've got what it takes to finish even in grueling conditions in that I've made it through similar things. In fact, I almost prefer it when things get a dash extreme in that it's almost more inspiring and energizing because I feel like I was
made for that sort of thing.
I recall some days along my trans-continental bike journey in Texas. One such day must have been in the 90-100 degree range without shade in sight for a hundred miles. Or water. Or a phone. Or...or...or. When I get into those situations I feel a switch clicking my body and mind over to "autopilot" and everything turns off except the portions which need to move to keep going the distance.
I hope that will be the case three and a half weeks from now. Training has started to become more of an obsession rather than a dread of late. There's something about getting into a long swim, ride, or run and feeling that point where I go just beyond wanting to stop. This is the point where endorphins kick in and I can turn a painful twenty minutes into an enjoyable five or six hours of non-stop.
I'm gearing up for one such grind now. Upon posting this entry, I'll grab my iPod, hit the gym and begin tearing up the training bike for two hours. Then I'll dive into the pool for an hour and finish up with a one hour run before showering and trudging to the day job with forty miles of cycling, two plus miles of swimming and seven miles of running behind me by 9.
I'll sit at my desk as an Average Joe once again, making sales calls while staring at an idyllic, tropical scene on my computer wallpaper and dreaming of the future adventure of attempting a circumnavigation by sailboat around the globe. My legs will be recovering under said desk and gearing up for an evening run of longer proportions in my last week of heavy duty driving toward the end of this thing.
I'm learning that dreams and dayjobs can be done in a twired tandem dance of a determined life.