Enzo Shows Endurance...Dad on Decline??

I love it when one of my athletes has a great performance. It helps validate that what I do as a coach & trainer actually works. But truthfully, it is not that hard. If provided with the right training, rest, & nutrition, the "performance potential" for the human body only improves.

However, a more difficult and enjoyable task it to help an athlete balance their time between parenting and personal athletic achievements. Take Mark here for example. The picture clearly points to a dad who is behind a few hours on sleep while Enzo is ready to workout all day! If you know Mark you also know that sleep is one of his favorite things to do, besides training and racing...and of course being a daddy! So the big Q is how does daddy do it all?

My best advice is to take it in stride. As a coach & father of two (4yr old & 3month old), I look for little breaks in the day where I can get in 30mins here or 60mins there. Also don't be afraid to pack up the little one and take him/her with you. My son goes to gymnastics on Thursdays. During his workout, I go right to the treadmill with Izzy with me in her car seat. She looks up at me in total amazement while I get in a hard run of 30mins. I'm certain she is thinking, "How does he get those things attached to his hips to move so fast?"

Load 'em up and take 'em for a ride. On Tuesday nights my 4yr old accompanies me on a group bike ride. He joyfully takes the role of being the coach while I have him in tow. He barks out orders like, "Catch up dad." "Go around him." "Go faster dad." It makes me wonder if I am this bossy with my own athletes..LOL! Then on other days we ride around our block...him on his new trek (I even installed a bottle cage behind the seat) and me on my cruiser. We hop off and then we play chase. He likes me to try and catch him.

So to bring this conversation back around to the point. There are ways to do it. But most importantly, include your children. There is no better feeling than watching your kids take an interest in something their "Old Man" can teach them. Too many multisport athletes become selfish with their time and go out without their children. Sure...you may have to give up a top spot in the awards ceremony, but trust me...the first time you see your kid in a foot race and he "throws down" and you KNOW it is because he has learned it from you...well, that is better than ANY award I have ever received. Take 'em out! Teach your children that even us old dudes can still move pretty fast.

So onward Mark & Enzo...your days of endurance have just begun!

Spring is Here!

Today I was out for one of my long runs (25miles) and really had a chance to take in the beauty in our world. I ran slow enough to focus on the light spring breeze as it gently pushed me on the back...as if to say, "nice to see you again." The birds' songs filled the air and the musty but familiar smell of the blooming trees fill my nose as I fueled my legs with fresh oxygen. Gone are most of the treadmill days. I welcome the nature runs, outdoor hill repeats with the setting sun, and the crisp spring morning speed WOs on the track. Days like these always remind me as to why I chose to be an endurance athlete. These moments quite my mind, open my eyes, refresh my spirit, and strengthen my body. I am thankful that God gave me the opportunity to worship him through my living temple. God's speed to all of you out there who cherish the same feeling. Train Smart...Race Hard!

Here's Izzy!

What a crazy last 7 days we had in the Morris home. Isabella (aka Izzy) Grace Morris was brought into this world on 1/7/10 at 7:57am. She did not waste any time in getting here either! Mom woke early (4amish) to inform me that she was "feeling something." We timed contractions & they were regular, so I sent her packing to the hospital. Yep, she had to go by herself as I got our 4 yr old ready to go across the street to the neighbors. By the time I got Braeden to the neighbors and got to the hospital, Izzy was ready! The doctor barely made it to delivery! So, all is well. Mom & Izzy are doing great & Braeden is adjusting to having a sister. Here is a pic of Izzy in her "bili blanket." Being a coach you know I would have to introduce her to some kind of performance technology. Never too early to give 'em a head start.

Shay Does It!

This weekend I made the trek to my old stomping grounds in Columbia, MO for the Roots & Blues 1/2 marathon. This was 3SF athlete Shay Gann's 1st 1/2 marathon and boy did she pick a doozy! We climbed more than a dozen hills and honestly Hospital Hill pales in comparison to course difficulty. We started the race in a rainy, 57 degrees and it rained on us all through the race. Shay did great. She was very strong through 9 miles and started to fade a little in the last miles of the race. Shay tackled the race with hamstring tightness, which as you can imagine only got worse with the big hills. She stuck it out and finished her first 1/2 marathon in 2:21:31. Tough race, but great race! Way to go Shay!! By the time she reads this, I bet she will already be planning her next one! We finished the weekend by attending the Roots & Blues Festival...listening to good music and eating some great BBQ.

I Met Frank

Yesterday while killing time in between my son's pre-K class and his swim lesson we hung out as we always do at the local bike shop. Honestly, Tailwind Cyclist is a far cry from good cycle eye candy...there are no $5,000 bikes hanging on racks, fancy apparel, and we usually take a seat on the old, broken down, hide-a-bed couch that backs up to one of the front windows in the shop. Roger only keeps the basics in stock, but the shop is never short of good conversation and interesting people. Which brings me to Frank.

Frank is a fit, scrappy looking young man. He was wearing a basic t-shirt and longer MTB shorts. His physique screamed outdoor adventure man, and if you were to look up outdoor adventure man in the dictionary there would be a picture of Frank. Frank has been stuck in Pittsburg, KS area waiting for a wheel to be sent to Tailwinds so he could continue his journey through Kansas until he reached Colorado...oh yeah...I forgot to mention...Frank's ride started in Norfolk, VA!

Immediately I was intrigued by his travels and we struck up the kind of conversation that people usually have over a good cup of coffee. Frank told me that he had been in the masonry business, making good money, and was looking for something more. He mentioned that, "money wasn't everything." Somehow I quickly identified with his conversation and wished that I was making the trip with him.

Our time for conversation was brief, as it was time to head out for my son's swim lessons. But in that short time with Frank I got to learn about an ordinary man with an extraordinary life. I know Frank was armed with his laptop, and I hope he gets to read this blog. If we are lucky he might send us a few pics of his travels. Meeting Frank was the highlight of the day. God's speed Frank...

Youth Summer Clinics - SUCCESS!

I am totally amazed how quickly the summer slips through time. Sitting here this morning, sipping my coffee I had a chance to reflect on the youth clinics which are near and dear to my heart as a multisport coach. This year was a great success! We held youth clinics in Georgia, Utah, Kentucky, Missouri, Iowa, & Illinois! Our clinics are based on a curriculum series that was designed by a group of serious experts! I am fortunate enough to be able to include my name in that group. Our goal is to help children realize how much fun can be had through participation in multisport activities. Our mission...to use multisport as a modality to help children discover their health and fitness and to combat the negative health effects of physical inactivity and obesity! We provide a great service for our children! Each year we look for donors/sponsors who are willing to help drive our cause. To learn more check it out at www.alivewithmissionme.org.

The Katy Trail Gave Me the Cycling Bug

by Dave Malone

The sky shouted blue.

The sun poured down, and I took to the shade as I spun my back wheel and adjusted it to its perfect fit.

I stood alone in McKittrick, Missouri under the lean-to with information about the Katy Trail, the smooth gravel track near my feet.

My destination was Jefferson City where my buddy agreed to pick me up some four hours later. I decided not to know how far my journey would be, but guessing the mileage at thirty-seven.

I rode a hard ten miles, with backpack on shoulders, and my rack carrying, not panniers, but a mega-orange duffle.

When I got to Portland, I discovered my total trip was going to be forty-two miles.

I had thirty-two left. My longest ride previous totaled about twenty-five. I knew in seven miles, I’d be pretty damn comfortable. I had prepared earlier in the week with several long rides, including being on the bike for three hours just two days previous, then taking a day of rest. I had what I needed. Peanuts, bagels, water, and a helluva lot of chutzpah.

The Katy Trail sits where the old railroad track used to, so the inclines are never very steep; however, this also means there is rarely any coasting. The old track hugs the River at times and veers away at others.

No matter which direction the trail flows, it’s easy to take in the beauty. The swampy lagoons and trees nestled by the trail and the closeness of the Missouri River. The air cooler on my skin. The bluffs and fields of corn when the River sits more south of the trail. The agreeable smell of cow. The bluest of skies and the puffiest of clouds. The gigantic black snake slithering away on the trail once it spied me. The hum of the bike. The constant fluid motion of my legs like the beauty and simplicity of waves on water.

Before I knew it, the last eight miles of my journey looked head-on at my bike, and for quite a few moments, I didn’t want my trip to end. Yet, when I got to the last mile or two, and my legs took on the language of tired, I acquiesced to ready.

I emerged from a grove of trees and saw the capital building glowing gold in the late afternoon sun. Bikers and walkers appeared like sprites out of the woods as I neared the city.

I coasted in to the lean-to at Jeff City. Filled with glee after my long ride, I jumped off to calm the muscles of my legs and start up conversation with another biker about the best way for my buddy’s approach from the highway.

I didn’t say it to my friend when he picked me up in his gold Ford pick-up. But I thought it. When’s my next ride? I’m ready to do a half-century.