In Search of Excellence

Over the past few weeks, I’ve realized that I can’t focus too much on my ultimate athletic goal when I train. It’s always in the back of my mind anyway. Instead, I’m now determined to devote myself fully to each individual training session. And to execute each session as perfectly as possible, tailored to my physical abilities.

I am unique

I also rarely follow the training guidelines automatically generated by my training software anymore. They may make sense for an average young or middle-aged triathlete, but not for me at my age. I’m unique. That means: While I’ve learned a lot about training structure and training zones (heart rate and wattage) over the past 18 months, only I can adapt them to my requirements as an older athlete. I know myself and my body best. I don’t fit into any system. I’m unique and can’t be forced into an average training format.

Therefore: No more stubbornly following a plan, but instead listening attentively to my body every day, and then training in a way that, first, is enjoyable, second, challenges me but doesn’t overwhelm me, and third, allows me to achieve a nice weekly balance between the complementary sports of swimming, biking, running, strength training, and stretching exercises. Like a puzzle, the individual pieces should gradually fit together and form a larger whole. That alone is worth committing to, regardless of whether I’ll ultimately reach my goal.

For me, it’s a form of life intensity that has always had a magical attraction for me. A process that, of course, never achieves perfection. But it motivates me to believe in it every day and to continually refine myself with training and the associated relaxation. It’s like someone starting to paint a picture and continually finding details that can be improved until a magnificent work emerges. Excellence, in other words.

Of course, not everything is always easy when I train. Like recently, when I started my running program. At first, I felt incredibly sluggish and could barely move. Maintaining the set pace was out of the question. I felt like a frail elderly senior (I am old, after all!), struggling to move forward at a snail’s pace. I almost spiraled into negativity and doubt.

But then I told myself, “Okay, this is how it is right now, I can’t change it. I can’t deny my age, I have to accept it, or better yet, make friends with it.” Then I simply started jogging lightly as the mood took me—like the unique individual I feel I am—stopping, walking a bit, jogging again, and so on. Without even looking at my Garmin watch. And suddenly I was back on track, even with a few interval sessions, which I held for as long as I could. I repeated this again and again: During intense sprints, I set a fixed end point for myself and looked forward to the finish line along the way, anticipating the brief rest as a reward for my effort. An entire hour passed in a flash, and by the end I was completely sweaty and had experienced many small, happy moments. That’s how it should be.