Don't Run to CVS to Buy Breathing Meds

If you do run to a CVS drugstore to buy medicine, which should indicate you’re not run-ready, you might find yourself caught up in an armed robbery attempt.

That’s what happened to me late this afternoon.

Steph was right. I should have driven.

I jogged for the first time outdoors in a week to go pick up some medicine to help destroy this lingering bronchial infection. I’ve been toting it around since I left for Japan. It’s the gift that has kept giving through my whole family. We’re ping-ponging back and forth for about a month now, passing it to each family member.

As I was picking up my prescription at the CVS, there was a man standing nearby the counter on his cell phone. We briefly made eye contact. I processed it odd that he was wearing knock-off Supreme labels and was wondering why he was standing to my far left, by the edge of the pharmacy counter. Most people gather near the “Pick Up” sign to my right…why was he so far to the left side? But that was it.

Once I left to go pay for something else I bought at the front register, I heard screams from the pharmacist to evacuate immediately. I just heard, “Get out! Get out! Get out! Evacuate! Robbery! He jumped the counter!”

It’s amazing what you think in those moments. You see it on TV, or hear about it in the news. But when it’s your turn, you can’t help but freeze for a second. “Is this real? Seriously? Is this actually happening?”

I really was thinking, “This can’t be happening.” I wonder if that split second hesitation is the difference in hairier situations where there’s no time at all to comprehend what’s unfolding.

To snap me out of that haze, a parade of frenzied customers ran from the back out of the store to the front. It was indeed real, and it was indeed happening.

A lady panicked and got caught in the line stanchion near the register. Had to help her for a second and then we rushed outside. There was no gunman appearing and I asked the pharmacist if anyone else was trapped inside. He said he thought he might have two people in the back. I looked at the security guard, and he motioned for us to stay put and not go after them.

I chose to listen, thinking of Ayla, Audra and Steph back home and realizing if we were not in imminent danger, this was not the moment to be a hero.

Then, a couple minutes later…the ultimate choice.

The man with the faux Supreme threads emerged to the storefront and stood among us, on his cell phone. The pharmacist recognized him and started screaming, “That’s him! That’s him!”

I admit my first instinct as the man in the camo pants ran away was, “He’s slow! I can totally catch him!” Hell, I was already warmed up.

My second thought was, “When I catch him, what will I do?”

That’s when I realized that the last time I practiced Krav Maga or Bok Fu Do kenpo was closer to the turn of the century. That’s pushing 20 years ago. I’m definitely not in fighting shape.

Resisting the urge to chase turned out to be the correct call. It’s been confirmed that the man had a gun, and I later learned he snuck into the Starbucks next door and barricaded himself in the bathroom until the cops found him.

That said, if the suspect used the weapon in the Starbucks — I’m not sure I could have forgiven myself if I had a chance to prevent it.

This is what I’ll be thinking about long into the evening.

What if. What if. What if.

Puts things into perspective when we dissect our race performances.

But the real moral here is this: The next time I don’t feel so great for a period of several days…I’ll just drive to the pharmacist…or maybe go the mail order route!

Parenting: The Real Endurance Sport

Steph was out with Audra for several hours today, along with Steph’s mom.

So that meant Ayla and I were on our own together. This would be our longest stint with one-on-one time since she was born two months ago.

I was nervous like it was race day.

Steph prepped warm bottles of milk, which were helpful. Pacifiers were strategically placed around the house like special needs bags on a race course.

The door closed. Ayla looked at me. I looked at her.

The proverbial starting gun boomed.

The next five hours were a blur between sprints to appease, technical sections where keeping quiet was a must. and pure chaos where hanging on was all that mattered.

I may have pulled a hamstring at the four-hour mark.

But personal bests were had. I’m the first in the family to get Ayla to sleep on her stomach, let alone stay on her stomach for 40 minutes.

Take that, Perfect Wife!

I might also be the first dad to use Post Malone’s “Circles” as a lullaby.

Steph and crew mercifully came home in the afternoon as promised. I was relieved that Ayla was unharmed and in good spirits. Her diaper was clean, she was well-fed and somewhat rested.

I survived.

No medals. Just memories. And a nice baby sleeping PR.

A parental podium.

Help I Need Somebody

Not just anybody.

I need my coach back. Even coaches need a coach.

I have been putting myself last on the list for too long the last several weeks. And yes, I should have done that to be honest. Sick wife. Sick kids. Business trips. Athletes racing. They come first.

Sick Ryan.

He comes last.

But now, that fitness comeback trail is harder. The “Win the Sunrise” moments are fewer as I fight bronchitis.

It’s time for some green boxes on Training Peaks to compel me to get off my sleep-depleted arse. The kind of green box material that an outside coach can supply. Someone whom I want to please. Someone who will help hold me accountable.

When is it OK to need extrinsic motivation versus intrinsic motivation? When is it OK to admit that sometimes inner drive alone is not enough?

Whenever that moment might occur, it’s here for me. And I’m OK sharing that.

Maybe the inner drive that cries out for help is exactly the motivation we all need to take the first step back to training?

It’s when we don’t do anything about that cry…that’s where the downward spiral begins.

Write As if Nobody is Reading

One of my favorite books I get to read to Audra is a stylized biography of Audrey Hepburn. In it, there’s a passage that details her famous quote, “Dance like nobody is watching. Sing like nobody is listening.”

I have a corollary. “Write as if nobody is reading.”

I mention this because two good friends of mine mentioned tonight unprovoked that they read my blog. Which is surprising because I really don’t publicize my posts in any way. I hardly post them on social media. I don’t text them, “Hey, this one’s really good, check it out!”

I don’t expect that anybody reads my nightly musings.

I write because I love to write. It helps me process my world, and how life seems to evolve as I age.

I coach the same way. I don’t post much on social media about my coaching, though I know I need to more now that I’ve made the mental shift to realizing I’m running a business and not a pure hobby. Still, if I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I believe that results should begat referrals. And those referrals are how I want to grow because it means the people who have been with me, believe in me.

That’s enough for me.

Maybe that’s the secret? Maybe if we just keep our heads down and do the things we love, with focus and pure intent…the outside interest comes naturally?

Do You Want the Criticsm

Home sweet home. In 72 hours, I’ve flown to Tokyo, gave two quick speeches, visited the coolest coffee shop in the world (you’ll have to ask me about it, I’m not posting a link hehe), toured Disney Sea, flew home, picked Audra up from preschool and spent the afternoon with my family.

Phew!

At some point, I showed my wife the speeches, caught on PlayStation’s Japanese You Tube channel.

She watched them quietly, politely.

Too quietly. Too politely.

I asked, actually pushed for her honest feedback.

I didn’t need it though. I knew. The speeches were “fine.” Not great, just fine.

Yet I still wanted the criticism even though it was unnecessary.

If you don’t actually want critical feedback, why have a coach at all?

Simple Execution is Not So Simple

I’m in the airport lounge at Tokyo’s Haneda Airport, waiting to depart for home just about 48 hours after getting here.

My mental fog is equivalent to hitting the wall at mile 18 of an Ironman marathon.

I don’t. Want. To. Be. Here. Anymore.

My legs are sore, my head is foggy, my will to chat depleted. Cooked.

Fortunately, I already crossed my race finish line for this adventure. And I’m even more thankful I felt much fresher last night when it counted then I do right now.

Twenty four hours ago, I spoke at a PlayStation Awards event. In that moment, my triathlon training crossed over into the business world and paid off. See, I didn’t expect some high-ranking executives to participate in the ceremony, and the nerves of some fellow executives threatened to seep into my own psyche.

It would have been easy to give into those nerves and throw me off my own performance, but I know better. That wasted energy is completely useless and counterproductive.

I still had to deliver these speeches either way.

How did I overcome my nerves? I treated the moment just like the minutes and hours before a race, simply focusing on my business equivalent of swim, bike and run.

How specifically does that translate? For my speeches, I concentrated on execution and form, in the manner of ensuring I could control the controllables such as my speech pace, enunciation, voice volume and inflection.

And it worked. I felt like I spoke clearly, calmly and with confidence — even if I was nervous on the inside. And I was able to deal with the unexpectedness of having to change my speeches with less than two hours to spare. It’s no different than if you have a flat tire to fix in transition prior to the race starting, I thought.

When we remove the emotion and focus simply on execution, life gets a lot easier. As does the work itself.

Now if I can only keep my eyes open long enough to get back to the Pacific time zone!

Etiquette Prep

I’m flying to Japan tomorrow for a few days and it’s time to catch up on proper business and social etiquette.

it’s been nearly 15 years since I’ve visited Japan, and I’m nervously reviewing all the hidden and not-so hidden rituals that are critical to leaving a good impression. The last thing I want to be is disrespectful, on behalf of my organization and of course myself.

It occurred to me, as I refreshed on proper bowing, business card presentations, dinner and drinking rituals, that there are similar rituals to finding a new coach.

When done properly, the ritual to cementing a new partnership should make clear the athlete and coach have mutual respect for each other. The athlete understands the coach’s area of expertise and (hopefully) extensive experience, not to mention their valuable time. The coach respects the athlete’s journey and views them as a peer, not a subordinate.

When either side of this ritualistic sizing-up of the other person does not occur with mutual respect, a disconnect occurs. The relationship is subtly harmed from the onset. It sounds dramatic, but is it really so? If coaching is a relationship, not an activity, how can an effective relationship begin properly when neither the athlete nor coach have properly “bowed” to each other?

Family Thanks

Not a lot to write tonight. My newborn Ayla is in a “rock and play” staring at me and I want to finish this blog so I can snuggle her up.

My coaching-related piece of gratitude on Thanksgiving is simple. I’m grateful I’ve been able to make the transition from athlete to coach. I don’t feel like I’m missing out when I can’t train the way I’m used to in the past. I certainly love to train whenever I can, but after four years of parenting, I know I can walk the talk with putting family first. I wasn’t in that headspace in 2015 when I tried to “make everything work” — which was code for training 20 hours a week for an Ironman for five weeks before Ironman Arizona, and holding on for dear life for everything else.

Now, on days like today, I’m grateful to have a healthy family around me and the sheer ability to be able to train at all! Whether it’s 20 minutes or a full hour.

I’m more grateful for my Good Wolf athlete family, and their families for putting their trust in me. It means everything.

As a result, I feel like my family has grown exponentially.

As has my judgment as an athlete.

Pattern Recognition

I came home late tonight after dinner with a friend.

Sanitizing some breast pump bottles for Steph was technically the one thing that needed to get done before I could turn in for the night.

Yet I knew there was another thing. Writing this blog.

Now that I’ve been writing daily again for what feels like about a month, I’ve established a pattern that feels unbreakable.

That doesn’t mean the temptation isn’t there to break said pattern.

It’s there every single night, as writing is the last thing I tend to complete before falling asleep. And believe me, with a four-year-old and a newborn…I always need sleep.

Somewhere in the last month, probably at the 21-day mark, according to what I’ve been told by official sources (aka my dad), my pattern became a habit. A good habit, at that.

The same can’t be said for my training, which is all over the place and sporadic.

But I go to sleep tonight knowing that if I can string together a few weeks of consistency in my training, I’ll be right back to this same spot that I’ve reclaimed with blogging.

It’s not hard, really. It only seems that way.

Ya gotta want to establish the habit.

Then you start with one session.

Do it again. And again. And again.

Even when you don’t want to.

Soon, it’s part of the routine — as routine as brushing your teeth before bed.

It’s intent + diligence + discipline + resiliency.

Sounds a lot like racing, actually.

Open Enrollment

I’m up late tonight making elections on behalf of our family in our new Sony open enrollment cycle.

Something occurred to me while I was clicking through tutorials, watching videos summarizing benefits like HSA accounts and electing or declining coverage.

If we had open enrollment for triathlon coaches, what boxes would athletes want to double down on, investing more money in? Where would they decline coverage, so to speak?

For example, do you want to have the high level PPO plan where you might “pay” a lot up front but rest assured you’re covered for almost any training or racing scenario need that might arise?

Or do you take your chances? Do you venture out into the world knowing that while you will save money with either self-coaching or a downloadable plan…that might blow up in your face when it matters most?

I don’t think there’s a wrong answer here actually.

But just like a parent doing calculations in advance for open enrollment, the athlete needs to know what’s important to them and what they’re willing to invest to ensure they’re properly covered.

Do the mental work to understand your goals and needs, then pick the “provider” and proverbial coverage level that best suits you.

If this analogy has gone too far, look a the bright side…we haven’t even discussed in-network coaches (<cough> Ironman University) versus out-of-network!