Striving for Podium Me

Some days, I have begun to feel very slow. Wanting to find answers, I was reviewing my history on Strava. Initially, I was resistant to using this platform for tracking mileage, speed, and so on, but after using it for a few months, there was a realization that it provided information that helped me improve (both with running and riding) and I liked having a place to store information about my bikes because it helped me track how old tires are or how many miles are on a particular bike (or on my running shoes).

After using Strava for a bit of time, I realized it had become a kind of addiction. If I didn't see improvement, I would get frustrated and become more obsessed, so after some time I stopped using it all together. I needed a Strava break. At one point, I began to track some things again, but still wasn't horribly consistent with that habit, and then a little less than a year ago, I returned to tracking most rides, runs, walks and workouts through this service.

Having returned to Strava after an intermission, I was curious to go back and take a look at what I'd been doing when I first started recording. Since I don't run much outdoors these days, my curiosity was more in regard to rides I'd completed, but I thought it would be interesting to see if and how things had changed during the time span of using this software.

In the six years I've used this recording method, I came to realize that I have slowed down dramatically. Granted, there have been some severe ups and downs both mentally and physically during that time, but having thought I was doing pretty well at present, I was shocked to look back to the beginning of my records and discover that even on a bike I still ride today, my speeds have slowed between 2-6+ mph (3-10 kph) on an average ride, and running speeds were so much faster at that earlier point that I'm not even sure how I was physically completing the runs. I actually inquired of Sam, "How was I running that fast?" To which he could only respond with a shrug of his shoulders.

It's one of those curious things. Yes, I've gotten older, but in the grand scheme of life and (hopefully) not being at the end of my years on this planet, one would think that a shift so large couldn't happen in such a relatively brief span of time, especially for someone who participates in activities regularly. And yet, here I was, reading that in fact I have slowed down. The numbers simply do not tell lies.

In part, I've been frustrated because I seem to be able to push myself when riding the tandem with Sam; but when I venture out on my own it's as though I lose all focus and every ride becomes a slow, cruising ride - even when my intention is to go out and push myself. For a time, I thought it was the bicycles I was riding, until I made the connection that I have slowed on every bike - even those that I used to ride faster than at the present.

So, what happened? I wish I knew. As Sam said, "I think your brain is broken," and that's about the most sense I can make out of the situation too. My brain seems to have gone into some sort of looping record of being incapable, and yet, somehow I'm able to snap out of it when I know someone else is depending on me.

There is a part of me that doesn't want to believe my brain is broken because I thought I'd made a conscious decision to slow things down and not make everything a race, but somehow between the extreme of always wanting to race and never wanting to race, I have been unable to find a happy middle ground again. A middle ground that allows me to go faster (even if I'm just racing myself) when I want to, or relax when I have the desire is all that I'm searching for, but most days it feels as though my body protests cooperating.

I know that there have been physical shifts over the last six years as well, and these also likely play a role in the change of pace to some extent. I've become aware of both genetic and other permanent damage that I will always have to be mindful of when participating in activities too. Knowing these physical limitations exist has most certainly added to the broken-brain-syndrome.

Still, I know that my mind is stronger than my body and that I'm capable of more than my physical body would have the world, or even myself, believe.  That stubborn, use-it-all-up, no-one-tells-me-what-I-can-do, always-prove-myself individual is in there, attempting to get out. She makes appearances now and again, just to remind me that she's there, but I have to figure out how to bring her back to the surface when I need her to be present in the moment.

It's as though there is a "Podium Me" and there's "Defeated Me" that are fighting against each other on any given day. Podium Me knows that she's not actually ever going to podium during any race, but in a race with herself, she knows that she can push herself farther than she ever has before. She is confident, she pushes herself, she knows that the only way to improve is to continuously strive to be a better version of herself. Podium Me knows she still has work to do, but takes joy in the small victories and celebrates them, even if it's just with a smile to herself. I love Podium Me! She is awesome -- and she knows it.

And then, there's Defeated Me. Defeated Me truly believes that she is incapable, broken, slower than molasses, and will never achieve her goals. She is whiny and complains, even when there's no one to complain to but herself, which certainly doesn't improve the situation. Defeated Me has no hope and doesn't see any possibilities for the future. When Defeated Me shows up, there's almost no hope of having Podium Me arrive to the party.

The thing is, both of these people live inside me. The biggest problem is that they have to coexist because there isn't any getting rid of either one of them. There are times when I believe Podium Me has completely disappeared and Defeated Me is all that remains, but when I look deep down, I see little glimmers of her. Right now, she only seems to show up at the gym or on the tandem bike, but that's okay. She's still in there and she'll find her way to the surface again. She just has to dig her way out of the trenches and get free of the shackles Defeated Me likes to place her in when she thinks she's won.

One day, if these two can learn to cooperate and work together, I may actually find the happy middle ground I've been seeking. I look forward to that day, but in the meantime I keep watching for the little sparkles of light from Podium Me, knowing that those little everyday victories are helping her find her way back.