Out like a lion...

There is nothing to stop the fire that burns in your toes when spring is in the air.  There is no holding back that spirit that drives you to jump out of bed at 4:45am and get your shoes on five minutes early just to see if you can beat the birds wake up call.  That awkward place between winter running wear and summer skin is bridged.  All the crap on your mind dissipates in the quiet mist when seconds don't matter and seem not to add against a tally of your days countdown.

There is just you, the smell of thawing worms, the lingering dream of Boston marathon 2013, and your shoes....

Let it run.  Let you hope spring forth and set the pace.  Let the tingling in your toes bring a smile to your face and a restless sleep before a hill workout.  Let that stupid stupid mistake in your past stand on the curb while you run free... I promise you ... it will wait for you.  Let yourself just be.  You and moons last beams can dance along the path, road, trail as though no one is waking... Just be.

It's nearing the end of March.  I am not afraid of April.  I'm feeling ok with May.  June has me a wee be jittery.  July ... July... I cry myself to sleep worrying about those hills on the bike route of my half ironman.  But it isn't in vain... It's in the tangle of finding who I am.  I am here.  I am learning that is enough...  I am carrying this fierce hope.  It maybe carries me.  I bring it with me on my way to work.  I sing to it while I sip my coffee.  I nurture it in the snuggles with my kids.  Hope... I am here.  Me and the thawing worms.  Dancing in the wakeful dark on each morning run. 

You might laugh if you saw me ... I keep trying to convince myself you need something special to push through chaos and emerge an ironman...

The truth is... You don't... Just be you and start.  Butterflies are just well practised caterpillars.

It is day 447 of my run streak.  I don't go far.  I don't get there fast.  But I go. 

Today... You go... See what you find along the way.

Episode 3; The half iron(wo)man - Saga of a Blind Athlete

episode three! Target Practice

Thanks for tuning in again!  We are loving sharing this journey with you all.  Keep sending us your feedback and thoughts to rmavery@primus.ca

Turn up your speakers... Time for a bit of goal talk...

Awesome job Terese (my daughter 13) on directing and casting :)

The 1/2 Iron(wo)man; Saga of a Blind Athlete Episode #1

The following video is what happens when 13 yo creativity meets stubborn blind runner training.  We're hoping to have a 5min video every week.

Terese, my daughter, is going to document my half ironman training for the next 19 weeks.  Race day is July 8 2012, Race location? Peterborough Ontario! Training starts tomorrow, Monday Feb. 27.  Today we celebrated our upcoming adventure by having our entire family out to the Peterborough half marathon.  Terese volunteered the entire afternoon, Xavier(10) ran the 5km race (35mins). Izaack ran most of his 1km race. Rick came in first in his age group in the 5km  race (21:40mins) and I picked my hometown to run my very first and only solo 1/2 marathon race (2;29;33). 

This will always be a kid friendly video clip :) Thanks for the help and contributions all!

The volume control is something we are working on... but considering we know nothing... we did pretty good!  Turn up your speakers and enjoy :)

Some days...

Some days you just have to write.  Some days the words need to free themselves and you are nothing more than an instrument of action.  Some days are filled with potential, ringing true with hope and ... whats this? Pride?  Or possibility the potential of pride?  Who knows...   Some days you feel like the run needs to move you, free you from what was your past and move you into the future of the you you long to be... If you know what I mean...

Some days tears need to fall, memories need confronting and the concern of future good byes might silence the now temporarily.  Some days all the butterflies wings freeze in time and all there is, or all there seems to be is the movement of the steam from my coffee.  Some days I love you more than I thought I could.  Some days I realise it's me that needs to claim that love and to be okay with this moment in time.  Because in truth this moment is the only moment.

Some days the swim is the best part, because no one can tell you are crying in the water.  Stroke, stroke stroke breathe... Or gasp and sputter.  Either way it gets the air in.  And with each release of the negative... the hope that even if cancer has imprinted on that distant figure I have called my father for a life time... That I am still here in this moment... moving this arm over my head.  propelling me forward. This moment is all there is.  Movement and change are the only truths. 

For so many reasons I challenge myself everyday.  For so many reasons I give up a little piece of the me that I thought I was and move constantly into that space of unknown... to find out who I can be. 

Weekly (or weakly?) I scream into the abyss "who I am?" .... The only answer I've gotten so far is....
"... In which moment?"

Peace to you in running... Peace to you in general. 

Day 410 poems to share

Ok so it's not really a poem... technically it's no where near a poem... but I had an audience and couldn't help myself.

First some intro thoughts... I'm in this place in training where all I've been doing is training for the training that's coming.  Technically my offical half ironman training does not actually start until Feb 27th.... But here is what I've come up with so far.  Also remember, my tandem bike is a fixed gear back pedal brake bike... which changes training dynamics. 

As read at WORD UP in Peterborough Ontario at The Spill Feb 15 2012

What they don't tell you about ironman training...

Things I've learned in four weeks of training...

People line up to use the YMCA at 5:25am thereby proving I'm not the only insane person alive.

The pool water tastes like other peoples body cream.

Occasionally you'll turn your head to breathe in the water and inhale someone else hair.

Bikini line Razor burn at 5:30am in chlorinated water is a form of mid-evil torture.

Bathing caps are NOT sexy whether they are blue, yellow or purple.

Goggle face lasts four hours at it's worst.

There ain't nothing you can do to hide how cold you feel during the walk from the pool to your towel.

Runs are not the same when you're biking and swimming as well.

Your random leg complaints can't be placed into the blame of just a run. Even if it's day 410. They blend with was that the hills I biked? The lane rope I kicked? The squats and lunges with my 4yo on my back?

Runners and triathletes are very different groups. Runners I think shy away from having to communicate to each other in speedos. Where as triathletes like to compare tan lines.

Changing into long johns and polar fleece from a bath suit seems great until you're hair turns to ice and gives your ears frost bite on the run home from the pool.

Biking is no fun in the winter.

Watching old classic action films while on the bike trainer passes the time but reduces your IQ considerably.

Someone should have taught the blind girl how to shift gears.

No one tells you that the front tire of your bike will be propped up on a milk crate to accustom your tush to the angle of ascent of the hills on your course.

The stubbing of your toes on said milk crate at stupid o'clock will prove more painful than the actual biking with it there.

Bike seats are unforgiving. We're not talking the grade five school yard you stole my soccer ball unforgiving... But the Clint Eastwood coming to shoot your ass kind of unforgiving.

You will remember last Saturdays 90min ride next Tuesday in your calves.

Everyone around you laughs at the way you walk.

Most people think your body will decrease size as you train but in truth you can't seem to fit your new found butt muscles in any of your pants.

They also look funny in all your old lingerie.

The best bike rides end in that moment when your leg refuses to lift over the bike and you start channelling your inner dog to help raise it.

Sex, for the love of god, can wait until after the damn race.... Even if thats eight months away.

You eat, sleep, and poo thoughts of that finish line.

Sometime in the middle of a training run you wonder, if I'm literally tied to a guide for 7+ hours.... What happens if I have to fart?

You spend calculated amounts of money turning your heat up to mimic 30C plus humidity while biking.

A post workout beer never tasted so damn
good.

No matter how intense your workout, how crazy your effort was, nothing hurts quite as much as getting yourself lowered onto the toilet seat.

And nothing is quite as embarrassing as having to call for help to get up.

On your lazy days you use your 4yo as a weight during a workout.

You randomly challenge your 10yo to a plank competition and lose after 7 one minute planks.

You bribe your 13yo to rub your back, feet, shoulders.

The thing you are most thankful for every morning is that your husband makes coffee.

You didn't ever think you could do this... You just wanted to prove someone wrong who thought you couldn't.

Nothing matters if you don't believe in yourself.

Somewhere along the way, you will have to forgive your imperfections and embrace such cosmic chaos as to reverse the spin of the earth.

Somewhere along the way you will need more from yourself than you've ever given, more than you even know is there.

Somewhere in the middle... You'll find a bit of yourself. A little piece of the everything you are worth.

Life doesn't stop for training.

Life doesn't stop while you struggle to place hope.

Life keeps on living and challenges you to live a hundred lifetimes in a day.



Peace to you in running!  And beyond!