Same Schedule, Different Understanding

My weekly training routine has almost exactly the same structure it did 4 years ago. “That’s not very optimal of you”, some may say. “How do you expect to get better, faster and stronger?”

5 years ago when I started preparing for my first Ironman, everything changed at a rate that was hard to believe. As I worked hard to rid myself of ill-discipline and self doubt, the shackles loosened as I rediscovered my natural ability as an endurance athlete. I grew in my belief, in my ambition and obsession for these sports, and things changed dramatically in other areas of my life as a result, for better or worse.

In this first year of (semi)serious training, I remember turning up to sessions with my Triathlon club with the goal to be first to the top of every climb on the bike (however I was feeling), to be the strongest runner at the track session, and I’d make a big splash in the pool too (often coming away second best in this particular discipline). I progressed quickly and whilst I’d missed the boat to be a good short course athlete, due to years of smoking and drinking through my teenage years, I was aware of athletes like Lionel Sanders who’d had run-ins with addiction and yet was at the pinnacle of Ironman Triathlon. I remember smuggly thinking at the age of 23, “I’ve started young in this sport, I have so much time…I could actually be so good at this”.

4 years later, I still do my sessions in the same order and frequency I did all those years ago, the approach to those sessions however couldn’t more different. Whilst I still I run or ride every morning, my heart rate doesn’t get very high through the week. I do a 100km ride on a Saturday, 15km run on a Sunday, and I just swam 1km in the pool the other day after 3 months of no swimming. It’s the off-season for running in Australia and whilst I am running, the last ‘speed’ session I did was probably July last year. I don’t follow a power meter on the bike, or heart rate. There’s still a solid weekly load, but it’s not setting the world alight by my former standards.

So what’s wrong with me? Is it a lack of motivation? Bored of the sport maybe, or just happy to coast along? It’s none of those things to be honest, I love my sports more than ever and that 1km swim the other day was brilliant(ly slow)! The difference is that I have gotten to know myself better. I understand my why. I know what sport is to me. 

It’s a pillar of my health, and when I was running around trying to prove to everyone how good I was, I hadn’t built the awareness to understand that. Running and cycling have become sacred for me. The motion of being out on the road, one foot in-front of the other, one pedal stroke at a time. Sometimes in solitude, sometimes with others. Everything becomes still and I just float. Beyond that, it can be hard to describe what it means to me. In any case, maybe it’s easier now for you to see why my schedule doesn’t really change.

Of course, my load changes slightly as I take on challenges and races, in ebbs and flows. I had to discover my why for racing too; it’s the same kind ‘why’ behind my training. Being out there with yourself, grinding, fighting, trying to make yourself proud. The opportunity to move, to be challenged, tested; It’s one of the greatest privileges you’ll ever experience. Discovering my reasons for doing the sport outside of racing means that a race, challenge or event is a bonus for me, and simply something that keeps me accountable.

And in showing up consistently for many years now, banking kilometres, discovering different approaches to sport and personal growth, I’ve learned that it becomes easier to scale up to bigger athletic and personal goals! I’ve maintained consistency in my training (in Cycling and Running) but I’ve also grown mentally and spiritually. There is such a magic in just continuing to show up, but it’s not flashy, freaky or crazy. It’s mindful, it’s manageable (just about), and it’s growth.

If you are someone that is just getting started, join me in my attempt to continue moving for as long as I possibly can. I’ll be grateful for every bloody minute.