SuperZeros

One thing I have been thinking about for a long time is our ever-increasing thirst for all things extreme in amateur athletics. I really am not sure if it is natural. I have done some self reflecting on this, believe me. I don’t want to come off as a hater.

It is I who sometimes can’t sleep because my right shoulder hurts from mountain bike trauma. It is I who can’t feel anything on the top of my right knee due to nerve damage from a dropped weight. I have broken and cracked bones in bike crashes… mostly off-road and alone. High risk? Indeed! I have frantically hammered in a snow picket at 17,000+ feet in the Andes after walking across the “snow bridge of death.” But all of this pales in comparison to what I see nowadays.

Everyone wants to run a marathon, adventure race, ride a century, or more. Try ultra runs. Try multiday adventure racing. Try Ironmans. Try a deca-ultratriathlon. That's right... 38K swim, 1800K bike, and 422K run. The men's world record is 192 h 8 m 26 s, and the women's WR is five hours FASTER!!! And on it goes. Now we even have the Warrior Dash and Tough Mudder and a host of other novelty races for those who can't find enough challenge in just running. 

People are crazy. It used to work like this… people did activities realizing they MAY encounter risk, hardship and injury. Activities where the ever-present risk was death were left for the nut jobs. Now there are legions of free climbers. There are people flying under bridges in wingsuits. Office jockeys pay two years salary for a guide up Everest. A mother of three “abandons” her family to train for an Ironman. A father of five “abandons” his family to train for an Ultra run. People leave families to train. People quit their jobs to train. They plaster their cars with 13.1 and 26.2 and Ironman logos and 70.3. And on and on THAT goes.  

But a closer look may point to a natural origin to all of this. Some people may chalk the adrenaline craze up to hypercompetitive people. But human beings are not naturally HYPERcompetitive. We are naturally spiritual and seeking. Consider what a Yosemite Park Ranger once said in an interview… “Climbing is not overtly competitive, but it certainly is competitive in a lot of ways. It's not a place, perhaps, to be competitive because people will get killed. It's also seen as more of a spiritual thing. It's a very real experience - a spiritual, inward experience - so people talk about it less. It goes around the parking lot - it gets around - but it doesn't tend to get as publicized in the media as much as other exploits."

Author and psychology PHD Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi has written a few books about what he calls “flow.” Most of us know this state of being as “in a zone.” When a basketball player can’t miss a shot. When a skater lands every jump softly and smoothly. When a runner or bicycle rider is at their redline, but comfortably performing there for extended periods with little distress. When a bowler rolls a 300. Flow is spiritual in nature. In flow, you have purpose. In flow, you have satisfaction. Bruce Lee was famous for making the spiritual statements. My favorite has always been “When the opponent expands, I contract. When he contracts, I expand. And when there is an opportunity, I do not hit--it hits all by itself.”

So, perhaps what we are looking for in this world of extremes is a spiritual moment with ourselves, and perhaps God, if you are so inclined. Maybe we confuse the adrenaline rush with the spiritual rush… of being close to self… close to God… close to our purpose. I think that is more the case. One can find the rush of peak performance in the simplest of tasks. For, after all, Csikszentmihalyi points out in his books that even mundane activities can be broken into a complex series of interdependent performances. To perform at your highest level, to be spiritually connected with yourself and/or with God in the moment, you have to get so many things just right. I can run 6 miles right now. But can I do easily? With perfect form? With rhythmic breathing that soothes me? With awareness to my surroundings, yet a disconnection from them? Immersed completely in the moment, second, millisecond… of each step. Does the world become a slow motion event in which I am the key player? THAT is being in the zone, in flow. You almost HAVE to be there if you are doing a high risk activity. But you do not have to be there in your everyday activity. So I submit it may be HARDER to get there when nothing is on the line but your greater satisfaction.

So, how do we grapple with the growing legions of common men and women who suddenly think they are great athletes? Who obtain glory at the expense of family, career, or even health? Who advertise their greatness on their car windows as if anyone else really gives a rip or that it matters at all? In short, I don’t know. I don’t like any of this, actually. I used to have the roads and trails and mountains to myself. Now I feel like I am on an ant farm and the majority of ants either are incompetent and/or have a death wish. Maybe that is the answer… that people are going to further extremes to distance themselves from the throngs of idiots? I still do not know.

What I do know is that none of this matters. None of the events, accomplishments, trophies, personal bests, records… nothing. These are all self-indulgent things.  There are very few athletes I admire and want to emulate. The ones that stand out try to give as much as they take from the sport. The race leader who stops for a fallen competitor and gives up the chance to win (Jan Ullrich, TDF 2003). A great performer in any sport that mentors younger players (Annika Sorenstam). Anyone performing at the highest levels and still having fun (the Harlem Globetrotters, Usain Bolt).

So, the next time you set a goal to be what I call a SuperZero, ask yourself why. I suppose it is okay to do it for yourself. Jan Ullrich famously said "My motivation doesn't come from rivals, but because I love cycling. That's what motivates me…. I don't get my motivation by putting the picture of my rival on the mirror" Modern translation? "Don’t hate the player, hate the game!" But why not look for a loftier purpose?   

The moment of victory is much too short to live for that and nothing else.

– Martina Navratilova, tennis player

If all I’m remembered for is being a good basketball player, then I’ve done a bad job with the

rest of my life.

– Isiah Thomas

I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to dance better than myself.

– Mikhail Baryshnikov

I've had a few interesting discussions about this over the years, believe me. I have figured out a few things in life. I am lucky in that regard. But this area is a tough one for me. I suppose I could offer my own tips on how to "excel" at whatever you do in a sporting sense. These 7 tips may work for you. They may not. But I would say if you follow them, you will not feel unhappiness about what you do. You will not feel pressure. You will never lose. And maybe most importantly, you will never quit. When it comes to sports and athletic endeavors...

1. Pick something you love and do it for that reason, and PRIMARILY that reason. Nothing beats the power and purity of love. You aren't doing your activity for any reason other than to DO it. Once you let other factors, goals, and reasons gain importance you risk everything. Love never fails, and you will never fail at something you love. 
2. Pick something you can do often and easily. If you can't you will eventually quit, which is the worst feeling in the world.
3. Set goals relative to yourself and nobody else. As soon as you start comparing yourself to others you are a loser. All records will be broken. All the greats will be eclipsed. You need only master yourself.
4. Share those goals and achievements with nobody but your spouse, or only with those who ask or who are closest to you. Or with God. The reason for this is people are haters unless they love you. And even then, people who love you can be down right discouraging. They don't understand, and you can't make them. 
5. Don't put any activity ahead of the health of your immediate household. Family and relationships first. No exceptions.
6. Master the fundamentals and remaster them and remaster them again and again. The devil and the joy is in the details. Drill down to those details and become a master again and again.
7. You will never master the fundamentals. But if you are ever arrogant enough to think you've mastered them, pick a new sport.

You are better than (your) AVR.

Tonight I rode without my GPS. The mere thought of that may strike terror in the souls of some who read this. Garmin this. Strava that. Average MPH obsession. KOM ranking. Blah blah blah. Here’s a clue, Sparky… nobody cares. But you. Does that surprise you? It shouldn't, unless you really ARE the center on the universe.

You see my friends… the vast majority of people who ride do so for pure enjoyment and fitness. They don’t care about averages and pulls and GPX files. To them, KOM probably means “killed or maimed.” And you stat freaks look like a braggers. Maybe you are a braggers. Or oblivious. Unless you are the center of the universe.

So tonight I rode the 75^th Street Brewery ride. Reluctantly. I do not like the ride. It is too combative. Sometimes dangerous. Often unfriendly. I know a lot of people on it that I really like, too. But many are very concerned about staying up front, so the only real fellowship comes after the ride. But I have to go home and cook and prep for work because I have a real job sometimes, so there is little point in riding this group ride for me. : )

But tonight I hung back with one of the many fast guys I know and chatted. Yeah, I know guys that are faster than you. He said we’d catch the front again. They were completely out of sight when we started the chase. We did catch them and I bid my friend farewell. I took the short route group back home.

During our chat I was talking about my absence of GPS. We talked about how that is a GOOD idea sometimes. Just ride. He showed me his cycle PC screens. In one day over the weekend he did 175 miles at a little less than 17 miles an hour. Now, if I just said 17 MPH without that distance reference some of you would poo poo that average. But when I add the distance in… ah hah! We talked about urban rides and hills and flats. We averaged 17.8 on Hoopers last week. There are 38 stop signs or lights on our course. I counted them. How fast were we really going? (The answer is 20++, but NOBODY cares). I used the speed as a reference to our stated average on the ride calendar... are we giving the people who ride with us what they expect? Back to the Brewery, we talked more about riding solo and in groups. And then we had to STFU and chase. But the whole conversation showed me that my friend just enjoys riding. I have ridden with him. I should know.

Now, before you think I am the oblivious one, I DO think there is a time a place for sharing stats. After a ride, it is a good way to compare to previous rides. Be careful though, weather makes a big difference… even on the same course. And AVR means nothing when courses vary. What about hills? Did you do any pulls or suck wheel for the entire ride? That affects what the AVR number really means. Before a ride, it can be good to announce a target average speed range if that is one of the goals of the ride... like the Hooper example I gave above. Finally, post your AVR on your own social media page/wall. You can put anything you want there. People will either read it or they will ignore it. User choice. Post it in a forum and you look like a bragger, or worse.

I will say it again. Your GPS data. Your KOM rankings. Your AVR... If anyone gives a crap, they will ASK for the info, believe me. Instead, try sharing a gap in the paceline. Or your knowledge. Or your strength. Or compassion. Or encouragement. Try sharing something that MEANS something. To a friend on a bike. To a complete stranger on a bike.

So tonight as the ride was coming to a short/long split, a guy on my left asked me if I was going right/long. I said no, but said I would drop back and call clear so he could take my spot. Then I’d pull left into his spot. We did the rotating switch seamlessly among other riders with good communication at a very high speed. He said “Thanks.” I said “That’s the way to roll bro!” That was the best part of the ride. Not the AVR this or that. But helping someone out. Being safe. Giving a spot to a fellow rider. I don’t always succeed at being the man I am supposed to be or the rider I should be. But tonight I did. I hope you did, too.

I hope we can let these words resonate without being compelled to comment on them. They are for all of us… me included… to contemplate… not to argue.
My dad was a clever guy. Never went to high school. He was more clever than me. More clever than you, too. Old school. He told me once than when people just had to make counterpoints, either their confidence was shallow or the truth had likely been spoken from the start. Or both. Today we just say STFU and ride. That works, too. : )