Compare and Contrast

Over the last 4-6 months, I've come to realize many things, but one in particular seems to stand out in my mind right now. It's the similarity of how aging and Ironman triathlon training, while two completely different things, are amazingly in alignment with each other. Let me explain.

First, the commonality of your body aching is front and center. There's the long swims, with correct form and cadence, that wreck havoc on your arms and shoulders. Almost like you might have been the starting pitcher for The Rangers, and pitched right and left handed the whole game. Your not sure if your shoulders are okay, or if it's the upper deltoid that's sore. It's like aging and getting older, when your muscles are sore for no reason at all. Like a relaxation accident. Something just starts hurting in your body somewhere. I guess with triathlon training, you at least know why. The long bikes and long runs each bring about achy legs and tight hips. Then, sit down after those events and try to get back up, and that's what I'm going to look like at 73 years old. Maybe 71 or 75, but somewhere around there. I'm going to look like I'm training for a triathlon, but the difference is, I'm not. I just walk that way all the time now. Repetitive motion pastimes such as biking and running brings about the tightness I'm going to naturally feel at 70 years old when I wake up. Triathlon training = Feeling like I'm going to feel when I'm 70.

Next up, fatigue. I need more sleep when I'm training. Aging brings about the need for more sleep, as well. Getting older is the time in life when your body is making up for all those years you drove yourself in the ground. Running around, working, taking care of others, and living life hard and fast. Very similar to triathlon training. You are constantly teaching your body to go further and faster, and this makes a body tired. You know what they say, "Go Big or Go Home". I'll think I'll go home, and take a nap when I get there.

Let's get personal. Knee pain. Hip pain. GI upset. Eating too much. Eating the same things over and over. Falling into comfort routines. Doing the same things over and over. Wondering what it's like when you seemed to have time to do other things. Wearing less make up. Intentionally and not caring. Not wanting to go out. The couch feels so good. Tinkling in my shorts - or will do so just about anywhere. Showering less because your just going to get sweaty again. Wearing the same clothes because "their not that dirty". Yep, these are all signs you are training for an Ironman. And. Getting. Old. Why didn't anyone warn me? There was a book on What To Expect When Your Pregnant. It is a week by week book of expectations in regards to the various body changes during pregnancy. Where's my What To Expect When Your Old book?! It should come with a warning label: BEWARE: This is not going to be all rainbows and butterflies.

And then there's the things you can't "see". Hemorrhoids. How does this happen?! Do you know how hard it is to bike with a hemorrhoid? Prep H can be your best friend in times like this. Age brings about these lovely reminders that you need to wipe gently. Careful, don't wake the giant. Ahhh, aging is wonderful. Triathlon training is preparing me for it more and more.

Now the good thing is, with age comes wisdom and experience. Experience is key in triathlons. It doesn't mean you'll always perform better. But at least you know better. You've been there and done that. When it rains on your run? No biggie. When the current is fierce in the water? Keep swimming and don't look up or fret. Age may bring less muscle mass, bone density and aerobic capacity, but that's where experience steps in. Older and wiser, baby. Shake it off. Better with age.

Another thing I noticed is that the older I get, I'm less concerned with what others think about what I pick to do, how I do something, what I'm eating, or how it looks from the outside. This aging mechanism can be very self serving in triathlons. Eat what works for you, fuels you and tastes good. Dress in what's comfortable and efficient, not in what peer pressure says to wear. Eat my "own food" and let other's do the same. In triathlon training and aging, practicing what works well for you and sticking with it just makes life easier. I won't use the expression, the older you get, the less you care. I look at it like I've become more self confident to be me. Do me. And keep looking ahead and not focused on what those around me are doing. Although I'm certainly happy to take nuggets of information from others, and use it to increase my knowledge. Wisdom is all around the aging community. We should all share it so we can stay relevant in our community and life. The same is true for triathlon training. Staying relevant on what's out there to be more effective and efficient is key.

I've had a goal for sometime now. What if I woke up everyday and ate the same thing for breakfast? Then, did different activities each day, yet the same on certain days of the week. All while wearing the same or similar clothes, and have similar lunches and dinners. Does that sound like older people things? Because it's definitely triathlon training things. Granted, non-attachment is my jam. But I'm still that person that loves repetition.

Getting older certainly has it's ups and downs. The thing is, I'm not all about speed. Mostly about the process of finishing. That's certainly true as a aging adult. It's not how fast I get there. It's that I get there. This weekend, I'm all about the journey. And that's true about aging. It's the journey. I have noted that triathlon training is not like being younger. Carefree, YOLO, willy-nilly, and doing whatever whenever. It's far from that. It mirrors aging: Pick carefully. Be wise. Watch your step. Don't fall. Keep looking forward, and take it one step at a time.

Aging and triathlon training are two remarkably similar phenomenons. I never realized it until recently. Luckily, I'm loving both. And seeing what more my future has in store for me. The good, the bad, and all the secrets awaiting me.

Confession time: Sometimes I'm all about speed. Who am I kidding?
Cyndi

With faith

As my triathlon training winds down and the race approaches, I think back to the many miles on the road while preparing. One day in particular crossed my mind recently. It was about 4 weeks ago, while stopping to refuel for my last 15 miles of a long hot bike ride, I stopped in Collinsville at a gas station, whereby I've stopped many times in my life. It's a gas station that is familiar to me, always has what I'm looking for, and most importantly, never seems to be busy. I've been stopping there since I lived in Plano, a number of years ago, while biking back and forth to Lake Texoma. We have a little place there at Lake Texoma, where David may golf, or maybe we go kayak in the cove, or jump in the pool. And as usual, always have an angus burger at the Club House. After all, it’s just off Hwy 377 which is one of my favorite biking routes. And this particular day I was using Hwy 377 as part of my route (although not going to Lake Texoma that day).
Heading out Hwy 377 on my bike is easy to get to, wonderful for high-mileage rides, and grants cyclists a plentiful shoulder,  and cars that tolerate bikes well. And off of 377 in Collinsville, is a gas station that provides me a refill on my water, and a Cliff bar - and sometimes fresh bananas. I normally place my bike in front of the store, leaning it up against a wooden bench, in front of the glass windows looking into the store. I go inside, say Hello, and grab what I'm needing. The lady tells me it's too hot to be biking. The man doing the inventory (he always has a clipboard in his hands) says Hello. I think it's a family thing, there. I always say, "I'm almost home", and she tells me to Be Careful! It's a dance we do, and it's always a comfortable and friendly exchange. On this particular visit, I notice a older gentleman looking at my bike out front of the store. He's just standing there looking down at it, inspecting every inch of it. I don't think much of it, and continue my transaction and make my way outside. He's still standing there, in the same position with the same expression on his face, soaking in something about my bike. I walk out and say Hello. Granted, there's only so many cars parked in front of the gas station. After all, it’s never really busy there. That day in particular, I only remember one car parked in front of the store: a older, weather-worn car, parked in the handicap space directly in front of my bike, in front of the store. That's the only car I remember seeing, and I assume it's this gentleman's. I thought he had stopped there, while making his way to his car just in front of my bike. Looking back, it did not all 'match up", as he's dressed in a pressed button-down western shirt, fancy leather suspenders, pressed western jeans with the crease ironed down the front. His teeth were perfectly pearly white and straight, and his white hair exactly in place. I assumed he must have stopped on his way home, and gotten something at the store? But there was nothing in his hands. But as I made my way to my bike, there he stood, to look at this bike randomly placed by a bench, in front of this gas station store that never seems busy.
This gentleman doesn’t move, but continues to stand in front of my bike staring, almost like he was in a trance. My “Hello” hardly causes him to budge. Still staring. I look at him, but he does not look at me. He's about 5'10" with a trim frame., as I inspect him as he inspects my bike. Maybe he bikes, I wonder? I can't figure out what he's thinking. I keep expecting him to turn and make his way into the weather-worn car, but it's like he's frozen in time. Finally, he speaks. "Where are you heading to?' he says. I tell him I'm almost back home to Gunter. As he speaks, he's staring at my bike. He asks me how I'll get back home, and I tell him I'll go just down 377 and turn in Tioga to head towards Gunter on FM 121. He nods. Another awkward silence. Then, as if someone just woke him up, he says he lives in Gunter, too. And, he wants to know why he hasn't seen me there, after all, he's lived there all his life. My guess would be about 72 years. I can't answer his question, and I don't think he believes me that I live in Gunter, so feel compelled to tell him approximately where I live and he nods. Approval granted. He does ask me my name, and he tells me his name is Charles.
I can't figure out why he has stopped at this gas station, and why he's in Collinsville. But I didn't ask either. I start preparing myself to move my bike, and get back on it and ride. He notices my ear phones and asks what I'm listening to. I explain that my primary choice is audio books. He's surprised. But fires right back with a question, "Christian Books?' Well, yes, some. (Actually I only had one Christian book in my audio library at that time) It just so happens I was listening to Present Over Perfect. He even asks me which Christian books, which authors? Okay. I got to go. Maybe he's a Pastor? Maybe he just went to church? All I know is I just want to finish up my ride. It's hotter than heck outside, and the sun is a ball of fire. I politely tell him maybe I'll see him around Gunter, and he finally takes a step back. I was never really uncomfortable in his presence. He was just in no hurry, and hypnotized by the bike. It's nothing fancy, mind you. Maybe he was curious.
I don't think too much more about it. Matter of fact, I forget about the exchange, because I'm tired, hot and ready to be home. And there I am, biking down FM 121, about 5 miles from my house. The road is quiet, as it's a Sunday and there's not much traffic on it. As I'm riding, I feel a car pull up beside me and slow down to my speed. I look to my left and guess who it is?! Smiling his big smile of shiny white teeth at me, is Charles. But he's not in that beater car. He's in a fancy Corvette, all clean and shiny like him. He even has driving gloves on. I swear I did not see that car at the gas station. He drives along side me, rolls down his window, and only for a moment he says Hello! I'm so surprised, that I'm speechless, and not sure how to have a conversation like this. But before I can make any decision on what to say, he's saying Bye and drives away as fast as he had pulled up beside me. And then he was gone. Fast fast. Gone.
What just happened? I'm still not able to put all those pieces of the puzzle together for that encounter. I meet a lot of people while out biking and running, but that was unusual. Nothing about it all made sense to me, because there was not order to it all. Looking back, maybe I was the one in a trance?
What's most interesting about it all was the outcome of this encounter. Not only did I finish the book Present Over Perfect, by Shauna Niequist, but I went on to listen to How's Your Soul, by Judah Smith and another book, Everybody Always, by Bob Goff. All Christian books - all themed similarly. How's Your Soul focuses on not asking other's 'How Are You?', but instead, 'How's Your Soul?' Shauna Niequist states in her book: What kills a soul? Exhaustion, secret keeping, image management. And what brings a soul back from the dead? Honesty, connection, and grace. Everybody Always is a bit more challenging of a book, as it calls us to love the "creepy people" who are hard to love, as God did. It's almost like Charles was placed in my path that fateful day, to shed light on the topic of Christian books. Granted, I listen primarily to non-fiction. Yet, after the "meeting of Charles", I was blessed with the gift of enlightenment to a genre I had not fully explored. I've dabbled in faith books, but now, I was drawn to them. I've listened to How's Your Soul twice, and plan on a third listen, too.
I'm still amazed at these types of "meetings" with random people in this world.
You know, I've never seen Charles again. And Gunter is a small town - I would recognize his car. I think Charles was dropped down into that gas station to tell me something. And he did. Lucky for me, I was able to hear his message, and appreciate that one sentence: "Do you listen to Christian books?"
Time and time again I have events whereby I meet people who I find fascinating, and then never see them again. That time in Collinsville was a God event. I'm convinced. And the drive-by in the Corvette? Maybe that was a message. Sometimes it takes time and thought to figure out God's messages.

With faith,
Cyndi

Still working on mindfulness

As life-happening’s are all around me, I am continually reminded of the need to be mindful of my surroundings. Mindful. It’s so hard. I’m mindless a lot of the time. I crave mindlessness to escape reality. Last week, I tried practicing mindfulness through a myriad of life-happenings. I really do have to practice it, as it’s not a natural thing for me on a regular basis. Life-happenings definition: Day to day things/activities that give me one more reason to think hibernation is a good idea.
A roof installation went down (well, technically, up) last week, and went a bit astray. I will need corrections made this week, and the outcome is still to be determined. The idea that rain is coming made me a bit weary. The Internet/Wi-Fi and DIRECTV dishes could not be put back in their places, and it’s been a week without. [Insert big sigh here]. Not to mention it’s going to be a while longer before the dishes can be placed again. Then, a farm visit to assess our Great Pyrenees dogs leg/hip pain. And Lauren‘s birthday that did not bring celebration satisfaction to fruition, are all only minor hiccups in life last week.
As my own life-happenings are occurring, I’m very aware that they are not problems, but life swirling around me. The “old me” would complain, spiral and maybe even meltdown over things that were not critical. Luckily, I don’t recognize that person anymore. Thank goodness. David gently reminded me that after I had Lauren, that “nervous moms make nervous babies”. I’ll never forget that. I was high-strung in life, and wearing myself out. I was impatient, ego-centric, selfish and self-serving. I was struggling due to my own demise, my own inflictions, and a general lack of knowledge. I created my own drama, even there really wasn’t any. (My poor parents. There was three of us girls constantly beating up on them. Not intentionally, anyway.)
I knew I had to make a change, and I eventually did. To begin to work on myself, educate myself and find a better self who could live calmly, sweetly and with contentment. No matter what life-happenings were occurring, I would need to change my vantage point, perception and cultivate awareness. When I first discovered this thing called mindfulness, I realized what it was like to be in the moment. It took a long, long time to understand this concept, as simple as it is. I begin to think about how my actions affected others. To think about my own thoughts carefully, pick my words, then speak. (That’s a work in progress).
As this past week unfolded into uncertainty, I found myself thinking about it with more clarity and understanding. The mindless chatter in my brain crept in. Oh yes it did. But I can recognize it now, and make note of it when it arises. I’m able to shut it down quicker and more productively, to allow the mindful thinking to be present.
Ironically, for the second time, many of my training miles lately have been listening to The Great Course of Practicing Mindfulness. Love this book! I love the professor who wrote it, and also who reads it. It’s music to my ears when I turn it on. I learn something new every time I hear it. It’s actually subtitled An Introduction To Meditation, but it focuses on mindfulness, meditation and to recognize when one is being mindless. [Insert big bell ringing in my head, on that note.]
Meditation is another thing. I’ve seen those magazines showing classically yoga-clad women, sitting crosslegged with impeccable make up and hair. They look happy and content. Did they just meditate? My worst fear in regards to meditation is that I won’t do it right, or reach deep spiritual revelations, or know what the heck I’m doing - and certainly not look like those women on the magazine covers who appear to represent yoga and meditation. Most books I’ve read about meditation made it seem too complex, exotic or out of reach. The Great Courses book, Practicing Mindfulness helped me to understand I don’t need to don special clothing, shave my head, be a monk, have a specific religion or adopt a Tibetan name to meditate. I just need to be able to sit quietly, eyes closed, breathe, and quiet my monkey mind. When my mind starts to chatter, I need to recognize it, and quiet my mind again. Eventually I became aware of my mindless chatter and learned to point it out to myself, and realign my quiet mind again. For me it’s practice, practice, practice. I can do it just about anywhere really, when I have a few minutes of time to myself. I’ll listen to myself breathe, and go into a quiet mind place. It’s always very calming. Life-happenings are nonstop for everyone. I used last week as a practice of mindfulness. I did well a lot of the time, then tended to slip back into my old ways that would make me feel icky and chaotic inside. But mostly, I was just happy that I was recognizing the need to keep moving toward my better self, because I’m not sure I’ll ever reach my best life or best self. I do keep trying, moving forward, then backward again. And going backwards is a fabulous maneuver, so that I can move forward again. I’ve noticed that my quiet mind makes for a calm heart. I’m grateful for these times I’m given to practice handling life situations. I ebb and flow through them.
Thank goodness for The Great Courses series. I’ve listened to so many of them on audio books, I should have another college degree. It’s like taking a college course, for free.99. Almost free anyway.
This particular book, Practicing Mindfulness has touched my soul. It’s brought me to a place where I can recognize my actions. Wouldn’t that be great if that was a class in High School?!


Life lesson learned this past week? Life without WiFi is like pie without whipped cream. It’s still really good, and you could easily get used to it. But I really like whipped cream. And WiFi.
Cyndi

BTW, Lolo, is the ebb in “ebb and flow” the good part, or is the flow the good part?