Martin Dugard | Training Ground

Either Or

In reading Chris Horner's latest comments about the Tour, in which he hopes that his injuries suffered at the Giro will heal in time for him to race with the Astana squad, he notes that he wants to help either Contador or Lance win. Hmmmm. This is a sea change. For the longest time, Astana has made it clear that Lance is not really a Tour contender. His performance at the Giro has changed all that. 

Horner also reports that he's racing at 139 pounds, down from his usual 145 to 150. He says this accounts for his dominating performances. Good for him. That's skinny, to be sure. But when you're 37 years old, going on 38, that's called doing what it takes to stay in the game. Good on Horner.

Speaking of staying in the game, Bernhard Kohl's graphic descriptions of his blood-doping in the days leading up to the 2008 Tour have to be rocking the cycling world -- indeed, all of the sporting world. He talks about the systematic doping process, which began nearly a year before the Tour. Beyond that, he speaks about a dog's breakfast of testosterone, human growth hormone, caffeine, and other performance enhancers used before the Tour began. This includes the banned new EPO, Cera. It seems clear that doping is such a huge part of the cycling culture, and that the riders are so dependent on doping as a lifestyle choice, that it's going to take years to eradicate this problem -- and even then it will remain a vigilance issue.

Should we care? Should it be taken as a matter of faith that performance enhancing substances are part of sports -- ALL sports? Should we just expect that everyone's doing something? 

I say no. And here's why: I don't like the asterisk. I like pure, unadulterated superhuman effort. The Greek philosopher Aristotle considered sports to be the closest the common man comes to contemplation. The rules of the game, the flow of the action, the drama of an unexpected outcome suck us in to the point that nothing else matters. We are watching the human form intertwined with the spiritual, which is what happens when emotion and passion overcome mere physicality. The human form of the body is limited in so many of us, and so it makes us feel empowered to watch others elevate this earthly form to its most optimal. 

Aristotle considered contemplation to be the highest of human undertakings. So while we might still find ourselves enthralled by a competition in which doping is allowed, we certainly know in the back of our minds that it is not pure, and that it is not an elevation of the earthly body. Rather, it is merely a distortion and a manipulation that ultimately detracts from the drama. 

Keep pushing... always.

But while we might still experience this contem

Pre

Yesterday was the first time I've felt like an athlete in forever. Ran long in the hills, close to 2 1/2 hours. Made sure to tempo the last two miles to keep it honest. Earned the extra hours of sleep I enjoyed this morning. 

Of course, I did nothing at all today. The best of intentions... Watched the Pre Classic on NBC, was suitable enamored of the skill of those elite athletes (and suddenly realizing how close one of my athletes is to actually competing at that level. A few years, dozen seconds and she's there. So close...), did my usual venting about the poor coverage of distance races (cut away to a commercial after two laps, come back midrace with no explanation of what's happened, then cut to an interview with a sprinter, and then returning to show the final kick), and basically just got inspired. Inspired to do nothing, you could probably say, but inspired nonetheless. 

Now I am watching the Dauphine, which pretty much makes this an ideal day. Later there will be BBQ and a household of family to celebrate the return of my son from his first year of college. Seriously -- and I don't say this very often -- i don't mind the missed workout one little bit. 

Onward. 

The Tour is getting close. Smith has asked me for a definitive answer about whether or not I will be posting daily missives for Active. Tomorrow I will call and give him a firm yes. I wish I could relate to all of you what this means, in terms of financial and logistical commitment. A trip to France is obviously not cheap, and the days when I did this as a loss-leader are long gone. More on all that as it progresses, but I'm going. I've even planned my cross-country team's mandatory three weeks of training without a coach (mandated by local officials to make sure the kids don't get overtrained; also known as the "dead period") around the Tour. Nothing says a group of athletes are following the letter of the law than having the coach out of the country, with whereabout firmly accountable through the glory of the internet. 

Finally, I was going to write on the tall poppy syndrome today (when one poppy rises above the others, those poppies try to cut if back down to size), but I realized that I would rather not waste my time on the lesser poppies, thank you very much. 

Keep pushing... always. 

Thunder

Woke last night to the sound of thunder...

Actually, it was this morning, just after dropping the kids at school. That's what passes for excitement this week, what with track season over, the folks healthy, and the Tour still a month off. I'm trying to get fired up for the French Open and I know that Dauphine Libere starts this weekend, but... sigh. 

The thunder scared the dogs and then went away after a 60-second downpour. We never get thunder in SoCal. It felt exciting to have a touch of weather, instead of the June gloom (marine coastal layer) and deliberate sunshine that so often defines the day here. Listen to me -- bitching about great weather. Think I'll go lift and then work on one of the three new projects I've got in the hopper. It will be nice to be focused in a month's time at the Tour. Much to do logistics-wise until then. 

In the meantime, I will enjoy the slight break between track and cross-country, and most likely spend a couple nights a week watching SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE. Seriously, talk about the pursuit of excellence. Those people -- the really good ones -- are amazing. I can't imagine their discipline and devotion to such an arduous craft. 

It's funny, but as I write those words about excellence, I realize that I've tempered my feelings toward mediocrity since I first began writing these missives. Back then I was inspired by the greatness of the Lance Armstrong's and Ryan Hall's, but equally scornful of the Runner's World's and Stunt Runners of the world, with their tendency to trivialize the pursuit of excellence in favor of glorifying the status quo. But in that time I've trained athletes myself, and become even more aware that we all have times when we choose to shine and times when we just can't seem to put one foot in front of the other without mucking it up. I have seen great athletes bent by weakness, and weak athletes elevated by that random moment when they chose to set aside their fears and see what was on the other side of the pain threshold. And I think I've seen, in that time, that I am capable of some pretty great stuff when I try my best. But I am also equally capable of settling into the bunker and feeling sorry for myself when life is not tied up in a nicely wrapped gift box. I think we all just do the best we can. It's when we settle that we get stuck, but it's when we keep striving to do better that we find a way out of that prison.

"The weak grow strong," goes the quote, "and the strong carry on." Bring on the thunder. 

Keep pushing... always