Not enough with out the medal...

Looking back on my time at the World Master Games it has been unlike anything I have experienced before and by far it has made me a better person because of it. From all of the travel, new faces, different customs and struggle to communicate at times, the opportunity to not only travel but to compete for my homeland on a world stage can leave you humbly voiceless when confronted with the immense responsibility of being an ambassador for your country.

Make no mistake about it, this trip was founded under the idea that at the medal ceremony the Star Spangled Banner would be played. And it was. The best lifter that day was an American, just not me. Strangely, that is something that I am at peace with, Dominic had a nice day lifting and I knew to beat him I would have to be nearly flawless which I was not, but am proud of my performance none the less. The big Swede Eric, had a great battle with me for second place when when he finished his last lift to edge me out of the silver by 1 kilogram. I truly am happy for the both of those two and thankful for the chance to have competed against such fine people.

I know my wife had concerns about my mood after the meet. Not performing well and being edged out from second would have but me in a dark place for a day or two a few years back. Something is different now, and has been for a while. Being an athlete is something that was a large part on my self-identity since I started playing organized sports decades ago, and that is something that will continue to be a way that I identify myself for a long time.  But the liberating part of this is that I am no longer bound to what my total lift was, or what place I took, or even how much I can bench. For as many hours I spend in the gym training and the amount of literature I review to learn (or rediscover) some training information, that is not solely who I am.

Years back when the goal of working out was to get better at football and to help out with the ladies, it was all about my ego. Yes t-shirts were bought just a little too small, sleeves were either rolled tight or removed to show off the time I spent working on developing my chest and arms. Slowly that changed. Clothes will always not quite fit right as anyone who has spent the majority of their life lifting heaving things will tell you, but I cannot ever remember the last time I put on a sleeveless shirt or actively showed off for anyone but to impress my wife. Lifting and competing is something that I do, not who I am.

One of the great parts of my profession is that I get to be constantly surrounded by people like me. People with the burning desire to be at their absolute best. People, who understand the time and sacrifice it takes to bend reality to their goals. People, whom I try to reach and help them mature mentally faster than what it took me. People, that sometimes don't understand the lesson until later down the road. But ultimately that is why I do this. Trying to pass on the information that has cost me time, frustrations, success, and failures so that others can learn from those lessons.

It's been a long path, but finally here I am. With the amount of time and energy that is invested, expect some anger and disappointment when it goes poorly. And trying to reassure that "It is just a game"  or "just a lift" will never work for people like me. We understand that to the novice spectator they will become critics about why we become emotional about the loss. Just give us some time to process what happened and more importantly why it occurred. It was a specific choice to accept my lackluster performance, and yes I could have just shut down and let the rest of my trip be ruined, but there was so much out there that I would have missed.

That night at the banquet I ate with a former Iranian Olympian who has immigrated to Great Brittan. We saw liter after liter of vodka magically appear and disappear from a table of Russians. I talked training schedules with a contingency of Swedes. The owner of the restaurant introduced me to his son, since the 8 year old has only ever seen an American on TV or a movie. But the highlight of the night was the singing. In this outdoor patio in the foothills of the Alps were competitors and their families representing 15 counties from all over the world, and slowly the Europeans started singing their country's anthems. While each one was performed with unwavering pride, the one old Italian man took the night. The video is only a reflection of what experiencing this in person was like, but needed to be shared.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IayOfq4GpEU&feature=youtube_gdata_player

All of those experience could have been missed if not for one thing. Waiting for winning a medal as means to justify and give meaning to ones life, there are going to be countless empty and lonely moments. Even though it is comforting to be recognized for your work: If you are not enough without the medal, you'll never be enough with it.

A tale of two flights

What a day of extremes . Having been up for 31 hours with about 90 more minutes to some well anticipated sleep. It's been amazing what this day  has brought.

For the record there are three things in life that I am an absolute baby about. In no particular order: flying, being upside down, and anything to do with being on the water. Today all three almost happened at once. When we departed Minneapolis heading for Iceland for the first of two layovers enroute to the World Masters Games in Turin, Italy, the flight was delayed from a severe thunderstorm warning. No problems with me on that. Sitting in the plane on the jet way being buffeted around by blasts of wind that are shaking the entire Boeing 757, I was perfectly fine not being in the air with that or the sheets of rain that made it impossible to see the far tip of the wing. To the flight crews' credit we were grounded until 7:45PM when the warning expired, then the engines whined, gasping to pull in air and seconds later we are screaming down the run way pushing to get airborne. Words are simply not enough to explain the feeling of climbing through a storm, being pushed left and right, pulling up and down, as you wonder why it was a smart idea to ever leave the comfort of the Earth to take to the not so friendly skies. But after a hard 10 minutes and a sweat line which reached to mid chest, the bright and welcoming blue has replaced the ominous and angry grey expanse.  At least until we had to pass over the next wave of storms, which hit over Lake Superior. Trying desperately to keep my eyes closed and focus on some rhythmic breathing to self sooth, I peaked at the flight data streaming live in the head rest of the seat in front of me. 1,800 feet. No B.S. that is what the difference was from one drop until the screen refreshed. 1,800 feet of time for your mind to go crazy. As we bounce out of the drop, I make eye contact with the flight attendant,  her eyes betray the smile on her face. It's good to see that I was not the only one nervous about our rollercoaster ride.  Just then the wind gust, and it seems that I am not going to catch a break. First just a little bump going to the right, then whoosh back to the left, then right, just enough to break us from level. Just as fast as my neurons can fire, any and every possible outcome are happening in my mind, and none of them are going to end well. All three things I hate most in life almost happening at once, or at least  in my mind they did. The  yelp that escaped from my wife, offers a escape my the mental  prison. She looks over at me and says "If we crash and die, who else would you want with you?" No, you are not helping me with that one. Not helping at all.

That was the worst flight experience I have ever had the misfortune to have, and the low point of the trip. But at the same time during this endless travel day, I witnessed the Midnight Sun banishing the darkness from the Artic pre-dawn and the sun setting over the Italian Alps and reflecting off of the River Po making it look as if the river was a red-orange ribbon of fire snaking it's way though the Piedmont region as the setting sun shown at just the perfect angle. Those two views were nearly awesome enough to off-set the heart stopping horror of the earlier leg of this trip.

On purpose, I do not have any pictures to share of these views. It was a deliberate decision not to live this vacation staring through the screen of this tablet or my camera phone, but to see the sights so I can remember them. Of course we car going capture the moments so show friends and family, but as of recently, I have felt that there has been something missing from my daily adventures. And that was my own curious mind. For too long I have been taking pictures and video of events so I could relive the moments, without really living them the first time around. Seeing the sites of the Old World framed by the carrying case of my phone, is not the way this trip will live in my memory. Of course there will be pictures to share on Facebook, but not at the expense of the experience. And now, finally, it is time for a good nights' sleep.

Let me tell you something you already know...

If you have not watched the latest version of Rocky, get it on Netflix for no other reason then the mini life lesson that Rock gives to his kid. Below is the YouTube version of it but it lacks the build up the rest of the movie provides.

As I write this, it is the eve of my departure to Europe and I am looking for motivation. It's not nerves anymore, but the self doubt that creeps into most of our minds from time and again. Last week I had a slip while doing a vertical jump to test my readiness for the World Masters Games. Talk about a soul crushing moment. Something that I have done thousands of times in life and just over 9 days out of competition and BOOM! Fireworks in my quad as I jumped. Doubt and the self pity came in spades. The more I fought it the more the doubts came back.

At 2pm August 10th regardless of any injury, jet lag, hang nail, or any of the other euphemisms you want to throw in there, it comes down to one thing: It's time to put up or shut up. Me versus me. And that's just the way I like it, too. There is nothing that a team mate can do or what the ref's can do that will effect the way I compete with myself. No matter what the outcome is, I will shake the hand of every competitor, wish them well, and fight like hell to represent myself to the best of my ability.

It's taken a long time to learn how to get myself mentally right. This skill is still a work in progress and as my wife will tell you there are still moments when Mt St Carmen erupts and spews language that would make a sailor turn tail and run. It's not been an easy trip to control your own mind, and there are defiantly some people who have helped along the way. My wife is number one on the list without a doubt, but I have a secret too. Here it is and don't tell anyone: go find a sports psychologist and talk with them.

Yes, a sports psychologist. It's not like you are going to lay on a couch and talk about your feelings, or any that soft hippe crap. I have never once been locked in a straight jacket and make a trip to the Ha-Ha Hilton. But I needed to learn how to get my head right. Why? Because your muscles control how you move, and your nervous system controls your muscles, and your mind controls your nervous system. Without the mind working right, you simply don't work right. Contrary to popular belief: running miles, working out in the early morning light, the extreme heat and cold, or without food or water does not build mental toughness, it makes your workout suck. During those activities the self-talk that you perform is a one of many strategies for mental toughness though. But in all my talks with "Doc W,"  it was about learning how to keep athletes in that sweet spot during peak performance. Self talk, mental imagery, breathing control, and measuring physical and emotional preparedness are all tricks of the trade. Sometimes one of those tools is needed more than others, some times it is a blended mix. After much self experimentation the combination that works best for me is the duality of rage and serenity. Too much of either one of those powerful emotions and I under-perform being too wound up or not excited enough.

By the way, there are other sources you can use other than a shrink. Friends and family can be powerful and provide some help, but keep in mind that they sometimes can subvert your goals. Find some people that want success as much as you do. It has been great working with athletes and seeing what they bring to the table and help push you through your sticking points. I'll wrap this up with a video clip from one of the guys I train with, showed me.