Coaching.
Last week my blogging mentor, Wanky, posted about coaching. As with a lot of his posts, it got me thinking. I may come to the realization that he's completely full of shit (which he would readily admit), but at least my position would be clearly defined (if completely lacking sound reasoning). In the age of The Donald, reason is an outdated concept. Too hard to fit in a tweet.
Here's what I know about myself:
Many would say I could have likely gotten here without a coach, and those people I would refer back to #2. There is no way I would have done so many unpleasant intervals without her prodding (again, #2). Although I frequently go off the reservation and burn whatever form I have on meaningless, non-targeted efforts, she usually is able to redirect me to some semblance of an actual plan. I ride better when I listen to her (but, #2) and having someone out there paying attention to what I'm doing and redirecting when necessary is invaluable to me. Your mileage may vary. Void where prohibited.
The majority of guys I race against don't have coaches. They either aren't saddled with #1 and #2 or don't suffer from #6. They have fewer issues with #3 because they didn't do #4, and most have the sense to limit their exposure to #5. Probably the only thing we have in common is #7.
That'll do, pig. That'll do.
Janice will likely never reach the levels of success with me she's achieved with other athletes. That's fine with me, and hopefully she'll overlook my failures and keep me in the stable. For me it's worth it, because I have made progress. Despite my advancing age. Despite #1 through #5. Hopefully I'll continue to make progress and find motivation in a sport I'm so woefully inadequate for.
Today was doughnut Wednesday at work. Despite sometimes overbearing encouragement from co-workers to partake in the chocolate-covered and crème-filled goodness, I managed to abstain.
See, Janice? I'm working on #2 and #3.
Here's what I know about myself:
- I'm physically weak.
- I'm mentally weak.
- I'm fat. (see #2)
- I wasted 10 years of my life not being active (see #1 and #2).
- The size of my family grew at roughly the same rate that my free time shrank (see #2).
- Despite #1 and possibly because of #2, I'm delusionally competitive.
- I like riding bikes.
Many would say I could have likely gotten here without a coach, and those people I would refer back to #2. There is no way I would have done so many unpleasant intervals without her prodding (again, #2). Although I frequently go off the reservation and burn whatever form I have on meaningless, non-targeted efforts, she usually is able to redirect me to some semblance of an actual plan. I ride better when I listen to her (but, #2) and having someone out there paying attention to what I'm doing and redirecting when necessary is invaluable to me. Your mileage may vary. Void where prohibited.
The majority of guys I race against don't have coaches. They either aren't saddled with #1 and #2 or don't suffer from #6. They have fewer issues with #3 because they didn't do #4, and most have the sense to limit their exposure to #5. Probably the only thing we have in common is #7.
That'll do, pig. That'll do.
Janice will likely never reach the levels of success with me she's achieved with other athletes. That's fine with me, and hopefully she'll overlook my failures and keep me in the stable. For me it's worth it, because I have made progress. Despite my advancing age. Despite #1 through #5. Hopefully I'll continue to make progress and find motivation in a sport I'm so woefully inadequate for.
Today was doughnut Wednesday at work. Despite sometimes overbearing encouragement from co-workers to partake in the chocolate-covered and crème-filled goodness, I managed to abstain.
See, Janice? I'm working on #2 and #3.
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