I can’t count the number of times I have come to visit over the years, sometimes it’s for as little as 48 hours. It depends on the time of year, his schedule and what my body decides to do with itself.
My time here is always very reflective, my surroundings induce this. No TV, perched on top of a mountain with an abysmal phone signal, surrounded by the ocean, bears and 'cyotes.
All I can do is climb a mountain stare out at the wilderness and think.
Today’s deep thoughts:
In the last few years my visits to Port Moody, BC in need of the best treatment an elite body can find have become more frequent. “The Bur” made the mistake of misrepresenting my age as he picked me up from YVR the other night, “Preddi, how old are you now, 29?”.
Ugh. I looked at him cross eyed from the passenger seat.
Annoyed. Feathers ruffled.
“Excuse you? We both know I am 28 and some months, so please stop the nonsense”.
But the truth is I am getting older. Many of the things I could get away with when I was a 19 year old college freshman at Illinois, I don’t dare reenact at 28.
For instance I would show up for practice in college and me and a certain partner in crime, would pick and choose which elements of the warm up we would participate in.
“Let’s see:
50m of Side shuffles?...Pass
60m of B-skips? Hmm...mebbe.
40 Lunges? I’ll give you 3—my best offer”.
Crime partner and I, would find great pleasure in this, and laugh our heads off silly, going through the motions but never truly completing 50% of the warm up. Then we would hop into our spikes, ready to do the hardest workout of the week, and complete it unscathed.
A hazardous result that only fortified our intent to do it again the next time.
(This would go on for semester after semester until I finally got my act together as an upper classman).
But, I can’t imagine myself pulling that stunt now, forget dedication and accountability. I am talking about ruptures and stupidity.
Admittedly my body doesn’t have the same resilience it did a decade ago. The approach I take with it has changed. I am more careful with it, respectful of it. Of course my craft depending on it is the main reason.
My coach stresses the importance of taking care of the “little things”. The little things are what tack on years of quality races to your career. The cool down, the diet, a good sleeping pattern, quality treatment, ice baths, managing ones personal life, and "Perdita avoiding Krispy Kreme".
Not doing the little things catch up with you. Not when you’re 19, 21 or 25...but when you have been doing this longer than you thought you would.
Relax. By no means am I announcing the twilight!
As it stands hurdlers get better with age. As our natural speed, power and explosion decline, (ala ageing 100m sprinters), if we can hone in more thoroughly on the strong technical component of our event, we can race, and be competitive into our thirties.
(Putting aside such things as motivation, injury avoidance, priorities, etc.).
So, without me knowing it I have adopted the mantra of “The little Things”. As if subconsciously sensing this shift from neophyte to expert, I made the transition silently.
One day I could care less about my cooling down, then the next I was manic about it.
I have been in track and field ever since I was nine years old. That is along time to demand excellence from one body. Imagine the number of repetitions, high levels of intensity, stress and taxation bestowed on a single frame. Mine.
So I guess a trip to Vancouver, with its thought provoking effects, is part of the little things. After all I may not be 19 anymore, but I certainly am not 29!
Peace out,
Perdeets
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