sábado, 28 de dezembro de 2013

São Silvestre de Lisboa'13

Back to race!
A vontade perdida em pouco tempo, recuperada numa semana de demonstração de força por parte da Pat.
Estive em dúvida até ao dia da prova, se a iria efectuar ou não.
Revi os dados de anos anteriores, sabendo que esta é uma prova madastra para mim, seja pela época, ou pelo que vai na minha cabeça nesta altura... nunca consegui baixar sequer dos 50'!
Sem treinos de corrida desde a Volta a Paranhos, dificilmente faria muito melhor... para ajudar, voltei ao voltaren esta semana, com uma dor lombar que me arrelia há uns dias...
Com os Amigos LL e BRG, prontos para darem o seu melhor,

tomo o meu lugar nos sub-50... vejo caras conhecidas (Fernando Andrade, José Pedro Rua) aos quais vou desejando boa prova e bom ano!
Partida, à chuva, com paralelo na estrada, toda a atenção é pouca, até agradeço ter-me esquecido da música... objectivo, ser aquilo que está escrito no dorsal: sub-50!
Começo rápido demais para aquilo que posso agora, reduzo e equilibro nos 4'50/5...Apanho o balão do dito pace, passo por ele e não fico...
Começo a sentir uma pontada no regresso de Alcântara (por volta dos 5K), ritmo?
Voltaren?
Alimentação?
Falta de hidratação?
Apetece-me parar...
Chego à Praça do Comércio, onde sempre passo mal nesta prova, vá-se lá saber porquê...
Vou pensando no que se passou este ano, o meu Pai, a Pat, 3+, 2T... começa a subida para o Marquês, pouco apoio popular, apesar de muita gente na rua, ou então não os consigo ouvir...
A dor agudiza-se... rins? Fígado? Só sei que dói como um punhal a trespassar a carne...
Falta pouco, na descida tudo será melhor... passa-me o pacer... sub-50? Bolas!
Vai doer, mas vou voltar a passá-lo!
E como dói! Que coisa!
Tanta prova já feita e nunca a ter uma dor destas... e o burro devo ser eu, por fazer isto, sem treinos!
Tenho de baixar porque não consigo manter-me nos 4'30...
O punhal mantém-se... falta pouco!
Prova superada?!?
O tempo foi sub-50, mas a que custo? Acho que o rim direito (ou o fígado?) se queixou demais para o meu gosto...

Fim de prova, fim de ano desportivo! Sem grande sabor, num ano que desejo, termine rapidamente!
Amanhã?
Vamos treinar e ver se doem os rins!

quinta-feira, 26 de dezembro de 2013

Para onde corres?

Perdido... nas últimas semanas, foi um pouco como me senti...
Apesar de ter um objectivo na cabeça que é concluir uma ultra e a prova até estar definida... não tenho materializado isso na prática, leia-se treinos...
Uma gripe iniciada em Novembro... arrastou-se, com recaída em Dezembro e a isso aliou-se uma falta de vontade estúpida... o tempo também não ajuda, mas não serve de desculpa (este ano a treinar para Sevilha, apanhei grandes chuvadas e adorei cada uma!)...
Deixei de treinar com os RB's, deixei de cumprir planos de treino, deixei de ir à natação, faltei a provas, deixei de correr...
Enfim, falta de motivação para tudo... burn out, overtraining?
Não me parece... até porque nunca coloquei demasiado volume... e talvez estivesse na melhor forma de sempre...

Os objectivos estão bem definidos, o caminho para lá chegar é que talvez não seja aquele que percorro neste momento...
2013, foi um ano de alegrias desportivas, mas muito duro em termos pessoais... e creio que estava a precisar de um off-season, para carregar baterias...

Esta semana recebi uma grande dádiva por parte da Pat... andávamos para fazer algo, há n tempo... e a Pat, que não tem sido bafejada pela sorte em termos de trabalho com a consequente desmotivação, colocou mãos à obra e avançou decidida para a «empreitada»... até eu, que gosto de a «puxar para cima», desacreditei... mas ela conseguiu! E levou-me atrás! Foi das maiores alegrias que tive este ano!
Foi um fantástico exemplo! Deu mais uma vez prova que, quando quer, consegue!
Acho que era o que precisava para «voltar à tona»...

Não estou no ponto...  
Mas espero regressar mais forte!

domingo, 8 de dezembro de 2013

56.ª Volta a Paranhos


Num fim de semana fantástico no Porto, que aproveitámos para visitar o meu afilhado Santiago, os seus papás (Cátia e André) e aquele a quem chamo Mano (Agostinho), tinha de manter a ferrugem afastada do corpo e, apesar dos poucos treinos (apenas tenho treinado corrida à 4.ª feira) e do nariz se manter tapado, voltar a participar numa prova. Desta vez, solidária. A Missão Sorriso elegeu duas provas de estrada para oferecer cabazes de Natal à Cruz Vermelha, em número igual aos que concluírem a Volta a Paranhos e o GP Natal de Lisboa.

6 graus, à partida (dada pela Campeoníssina Rosa Mota) desta prova que há muito pretendia fazer, por ser a mais antiga do Porto e estar associada a um clube histórico da Invicta, o Salgueiros (tive muita pena de ver onde jaz o antigo Vidal Pinheiro... património do Porto, devia merecer outro carinho!)!
Segundo me diziam, a prova não era fácil, tendo um percurso bastante acentuado em termos de subidas e descidas...

E lá fomos!
Partida ligeiramente confusa, com mais de 3.000 atletas e todos a quererem ganhar a melhor posição... na minha primeira prova enquanto Veterano, tive a companhia de tantos de escalão igual ou superior e extremamente competitivos, pelo que observei!
O público do Norte é fantástico!
Paranhos é um bairro típico e o facto de ver muita gente nas ruas a puxar por nós, é um incentivo adicional!
Apesar das (muitas) subidas, fui recuperando nas descidas e aos 5K, achei que estava em condições de repetir o sub-45 da corrida do ISCTE... 7, 8... os kms a passar e as contas parecem dar... apesar das complicações respiratórias, mas o 9.º K é fatal, sempre a subir...

baixo claramente o ritmo e acabo por terminar em 45'53.

Primeira prova do novo Vet, abaixo do minuto 46 - muito satisfeito!
No final ainda tive oportunidade de matar saudades da família Batista, do Grande Campeão Vasco e da excelente fotógrafa que é a Lina, mais o seu filhote!

Um fim de semana brilhante,

 culminado com almoço em família, perto do Senhor da Pedra, junto à praia, no local onde comecei a correr diariamente, graças ao meu Mano Agostinho -  que saudades, meu bom Amigo!









quinta-feira, 5 de dezembro de 2013

África...

Mãe África, parafraseando Carlos Pinto-Coelho, tem como toda a gente sabe, atletas de endurance de eleição...
Alimentação, altitude, genes de uma tribo...
Tudo serve para explicar o desempenho africano nas provas de atletismo...
A explicação pode ser bem mais simples do que isso... 

Dois vídeos sobre os dois homens mais rápidos da história da maratona, podem ajudar a explicar...

Geoffrey Mutai, 

Wilson Kipsang,

Também os portugueses já foram assim...

terça-feira, 3 de dezembro de 2013

40, de Mister a Master




A idade é apenas um número... Faço hoje 40 e este ano, em termos físicos, sinto-me melhor que nunca!
Não sei quanto vai/vou durar, pelas maleitas que se acumularam ao longo destes anos, mas hoje celebro o facto do Mister ter chegado a Master!


Reproduzo o texto de um dos meus ídolos desportivos, Chris “Macca” McCormack.

Age is just a number
 
«In any sport at the professional level, as you begin to move up in years, the discussion shifts from your results to the question of longevity. Now, in my 21st year as a professional racer, it is a hot topic. I never considered age as a barrier to performance. You start off as a junior athlete and then move into your rookie professional years, then you continue on your journey through your “golden years” before suddenly arriving at a point where outside questions move from “how did you do?” in the race to “how long is it possible to keep doing it?” For the athlete, nothing really changes. You don’t view time in calendar years, you view it in terms of “training blocks” and race dates, and very quickly you go from an 18-year-old athlete to a 40-year-old one.„
On this journey, you have made the tweaks, adjusted the training volumes, managed your injuries, pre-planned and focused, and continued to do what you know. Time in your head stops, as it has never been relevant to anything you have done up to this point. It is only when others start to make an issue of it that it enters your thought process.
After I won the 2010 Ironman World Championship, in the press conference after the race, the question came up: As a 38-year-old athlete, was it possible to continue to win here? With sweat still on my skin, the question was thrust into my face again, and my answer was, “I guess we will have to wait and see.”
The following year Craig Alexander proved that this was possible, winning another title in Kona at 38, and last year at 39 I won the Long Course World Triathlon Championships in Europe, making me the oldest ever world champion in our sport at a professional level. Greg Bennett has seen amazing success in recent years, and Cameron Brown at 40 years of age posted an eight-hour Ironman performance in Melbourne. Early this year, at age 42, Oscar Galindez took out the highly stacked Ironman 70.3 field in Panama to win again, just like he has been doing for 25 years. Same names, different races, new years. From my seat, nothing seems to have changed.
Endurance racing is not limited by age. In fact, age in endurance racing is a benefit. I believe that the sport has it wrong when it attempts to limit performance of athletes to a year of birth. I believe that you are not physically and emotionally stable enough to lock in success at the highest level in Ironman races until your mid-30s. What no one ever considers in this style of racing is the importance of experience, purpose and stability of an athlete, which all come only with maturity. You can’t read about this or be taught it. It just is! Our sport is young, and I believe that the next few years are going to show some amazing performances by athletes approaching their mid-40s. You haven’t seen anything yet.
But I didn’t mean to discuss age as a barrier to performance on a professional level here. I want to ask why age is even considered a barrier in the first place.
My dad has supported me in my triathlon adventures for my entire life, and still rides his bike every day with his mates. Never did I even consider my father capable of doing a triathlon. I guess to some degree I am as age-biased as everyone else. I put the question to my dad: Why, after all these years, had he never considered doing a triathlon? Was he scared of the swim, the bike or the run?
My dad’s response was what inspired me to write this article in the first place.
“Son, if you think you’re old, you are old,” he said. “If you start thinking you can’t do something, you simply won’t do it anymore. No one falls to the top of a mountain. When you are at the top of the mountain, it’s the people down at the bottom who tell you that you have been there for too long and it is time to come down. When you listen to them, someone else will take your spot on the top of that mountain. That’s not just in winning your races, but in life in general. Remember you have a lot of experts in the science of ‘can’t’ because not many believe in the science of ‘CAN.’ The top of the mountain is the best view in town. Never give that up, son!
“I don’t know why I have never done a triathlon. But what I propose is if you can find me a race that will allow your dad to race, I will give it a try. If your old man can begin this sport at 80, you can tell those people who question you at 40 that the view at the top of the mountain is not for sale!”
True to his word, my dad completed his first triathlon with my local triathlon club here in Sydney on March 31.
He swam 300 metres, rode 15K and ran 3K. My eldest daughter, Tahlia, completed the entire race with him. I don’t get super emotional much, but I was so touched and impressed that day, I could not hold the tears back. Of course, Dad won his age group, and he continues to tell me that now: “I have never been beaten, Son!”
As a professional racer, I will continue to race and compete at the highest level for many more years to come. I will remind the next person who asks me about my age of this story. My dad is an 80-year-old man and has never been beaten in a triathlon by anyone his age in his life. I have pretty good genes.
This sport is built on the back of amazing people who continue to define and change the perceptions of what was once considered impossible. Like my dad, I will be racing until I am 80 years old. No doubt, he will continue to set amazing standards for me to chase.»

Chris “Macca” McCormack tem mais de 200 vitórias e é considerado por muitos: 
«One of the best athletes the sport has ever seen!»
 
Este texto foi originalmente publicado no site Triathlete Europe

E mais dois vídeos, com o mesmo protagonista e sobre o mesmo tema:
40 is not over the hill

You are never too old to race triathlon, sobre o seu pai ter feito o primeiro triatlo com 81 anos!?!

sexta-feira, 8 de novembro de 2013

39 Life Lessons I've Learned in 39 Years

Quase a fechar o ciclo dos «intas» e a entrar no dos «entas», deparei-me com este belo texto de Jason Wachob, sobre 39 lições de Vida, publicado aqui
Subscrevo a maior parte...
«Today is my 39th birthday. I've had some incredible life experiences. I've gone from flat broke to having money to being broke again, and then back. I've been told by doctors that I had incurable conditions and then completely healed myself naturally. I've had loved ones who were here one minute and dead the next. I've had my heart broken and then found my soulmate. It's been a pretty wild ride! Taking a page from Leo Babauta, I thought I'd share 39 things I've learned over my 39 years: 

1. "You can't connect the dots going forward; you can only connect them looking backwards."
Steve Jobs was right on the money with this one. There have been so many times when a perceived opportunity didn't work out and then a year later, there was a much bigger opportunity around the corner. 

2. Working hard doesn't always mean working smart.
Just because you're working 16 hours a day doesn't mean you're being efficient with your time. You still have to work hard to succeed, but if you're not also organized and efficient, you're just wasting time. 

3. Never walk away mad from a loved one.
My father died unexpectedly from a heart attack when I was 19 years old. Just a few weeks before he died, we'd had a fight because I overslept. A week later we made up. Then he died. Life is precious. One moment someone is here and the next moment they might be gone... so treat every last word with loved ones accordingly. 

4. Don't let little things get to you.
Does it really matter who is right about who did what chore in the house? You might win the fight, but you lose the battle. Don't sweat the small stuff because little things don't matter.
5. There's no one-size-fits-all approach to wellness, let alone anything.
I'm a 6'7", 220-pound man who practices yoga three times a week .... How could one diet, or one exercise program, or yoga pose work the same way it works for a 5'2", 90-pound woman who is a triathlete?
6. No one is perfect.
This especially holds true for people we put on pedestals. No matter how great or enlightened they are, they're still human. Everyone make mistakes and nobody is perfect.
7. Only take advice from experts (and being an expert probably means that person put in 10,000 hours of work).
I see this all the time in the self-help and wellness world: people doling out advice who have no expertise or life experience. Why is Charlie Knoles one of the best meditation teachers in the world? Because he's been meditating since he was four years old! Sometimes there's no substitute for hard work and experience. Only take advice from experts—and being an expert probably means having put in at least 10,000 hours of hard work according to Malcolm Gladwell.
8. We're good at going fast and need to practice going slow.
My friends Tara Stiles and Michael Taylor talk about this all the time. This is true for so many of us Type-A's who are always trying to jam one more thing into our already jam-packed day (myself included). It's why practices like yoga, mindfulness, and meditation are so important—they help us practice "slow" and connect us to our true selves.
9. Who you are on the mat (or at the office or the dinner table or wherever) is who you are everywhere.
My former college basketball coach, Armond Hill, used to tell us that we we couldn't coast in practice and expect to turn it on during a game. You had to practice at the same level of excellence all the time. Why do so many ex-professional football players have problems with violence? It's probably because they've spent their life practicing violence on the field.
10. Sometimes you have to put things in the "I don't know" folder.
Awful stuff happens to everyone. Sometimes there's an immediate silver lining. Sometimes there isn't and at these times, you have to accept that some things just don't make sense right now. And maybe they will later.
11. Karma is real.
I've seen it happen way too often personally and for friends. If you give more, you'll get more.
12. You are a combination of the five people you spend the most time with.
It may sound like a cliche, but it's true. If you really want to change your life, you have to change the people you hang around with. Spend time with people who support you and believe in you.
13. Yoga really works.
I had two extruded discs in my lower back that were pressing on my sciatic nerve. I was in excruciating pain and two doctors told me I needed surgery. I started practicing yoga and the rest is history:)
14. Balance and moderation are key.
Sometimes we all need a cupcake. It's probably not a great idea every day, but the occasional treat isn't going to kill you. Life should be fun. Being obsessively healthy can be stressful and extremely unhealthy. Enter orthorexia.
15. Your gut is always right.
Always, always, always listen to your gut. Whenever I've gone against my intuition, it's been a disaster. Listen to your gut, it's always right.
16. If you're not happy with yourself, you'll never be happy in a relationship.
Every successful relationship starts with you. You can't rely on someone else to make you happy. Finding a great spouse or partner is just the icing on the cake, but you're responsible for the cake.
17. The future of medicine is a blend of Eastern and Western.
I'm a huge fan of Eastern medicine—acupuncture, shiatsu, reiki, cupping, herbs—you name it, I've done it. But you know what? Eastern medicine isn't perfect, and I think we'd all agree that Western medicine has room for improvement, too. But the future of medicine is a combination of both.
18. Energy (both negative and positive) is palpable.
We've all felt it at one time or another, there's that person who we always feel good around, or that person who is just simply draining. Energy is very real.
19. No one knows your body better than you.
In dealing with a parasite this past year, I enlisted every doctor and healer out there. In addition to learning that medicine knows very little about parasites, I learned that no one knew my body better than me. Some people told me things that were flat out wrong, while others told me things that made sense. It was up to me to choose who and what to listen to and decide what course of action to take.
20. Friends come and go.
Just because you were close with someone 10 years ago doesn't mean you're going to be close to them today and that's OK. People change and so do relationships. Sometimes people come into your lives at very specific times to help you get from point A to B, and then they somehow fade away. That's the magic of life and relationships: they're aways evolving.
21. Dark green vegetables are good for everyone.
I don't think there's a diet out there that says green veggies are bad. Bring on the spinach!
22. Everyone deals with death differentlyand every death is different.
By age 30 I had given three eulogies (and that doesn't even include my father's passing). Death is never easy and it's always different. How I felt when my father died when I was 19 was completely different from losing my best friend when I was 28, and losing my grandmother from cancer when I was 37.
23. Many forms of disease are preventable.
Many diseases—including some kinds of cancer, diabetes, and heart disease—are caused by lifestyle and diet. Through healthy living, we can not only prevent most disease, but we can actually change our genes. That's why I do what I do.
24. The universe/God /whatever-you-want-to-call-It, tends to know your breaking point.
I've often found that whenever I get very close to my breaking point, something magical tends to happen. Whether it's a profound encounter from a stranger or a big break, something always seems to happen whenever I get to a point where I've just had enough.
25. Gratitude is the key to happiness.
The common theme behind every religion is gratitude. It's powerful and it works! Always be grateful for what you have; no matter how bad things seem, there's always someone who has it worse. When I was a kid my mom would tell me, "The boy with no shoes cried until he met the boy with no feet." And as my friend, Peter Tunney says, "Grattitude is an attitude!"
26. Don't compare yourself or try to be someone else.
There's always someone out there who has more money, a more (perceived) perfect relationship, or a flatter stomach. Comparing yourself or trying to be someone else is a game you'll never win. As Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself; everyone else is taken."
27. Money doesn't buy happiness.
I didn't grow up with a lot of money, so all I wanted to do was make money. So when I was 27 years old and had made enough money to pay off all my college debt, was I happy? No. I learned very quickly that money doesn't buy happiness. And what's also interesting is that most successful people are successful because they do what they love to do. So focus on happiness and the money will come, not the other way around.
28. Vacations are good!
I was never a fan of vacations. And although I've never taken a 7-day vacation, I've become a fan of the 3 and 4 day getaways. Vacations work! They help you relax and recharge. Now I understand why people take them!
29. Being fit doesn't mean you're healthy.
The story that Lissa Rankin tells in Mind Over Medicine about how the fittest people in the world were some of the unhealthiest is spot on. Your thoughts, your mind, your environment—they all play a huge role in your overall health and well-being.
30. The gut is the key to so much of our health (yet we know so little about it).
Boy, did I learn way too much about this one in the past year with my parasite troubles. I felt things in my body that had some doctors looking at me like I was crazy! The gut is critical to our overall health and science is advancing rapidly here to explain why. We're about to enter the age of the microbiome and you'd better fasten your seat belts!
31. There's something to be said for being in nature.
I'm a New Yorker and prefer walking in a city over hiking. But lately I've found it really refreshing to walk barefoot in the sand or on grass. It just feels good.
32. Don't take yourself too seriously.
You have to be able to laugh at yourself. Being wound too tight isn't good for you or the people around you.
33. There's only one proper way to accept a compliment.
The words "thank you" will suffice.
34. Gluten, sugar, and processed foods aren't good for you.
I think my doctor friends, Frank Lipman, Amy Myers, Joel Kahn, David Perlmutter, and Ronald Hoffman all would agree on this one. Plus, as Kris Carr once told me, "You can't expect to live a vibrant life when you live on Twinkie consciousness."
35. Everyone has stress and it manifests in different ways.
Putting food on the table while working at a back-breaking job to make ends meet or taking care of loved one who is dying is extremely stressful. But just because you have money and perfect health doesn't mean you don't have stress. Stress follows you everywhere, it just changes. And it manifests in different ways and tends to hit you where you are most vulnerable—it doesn't have to manifest itself externally, it can manifest itself internally in the form of a weak part of your body. Stress will always be in your life so you have to figure out how to deal with it. As Jon Kabat-Zinn says, "You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf."
36. Goals and deadlines are important, but sometimes you just have to say, "I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know it's gonna happen."
This can be tricky as sometimes we only see what we want to see, so I refer back to number 15 on this list about listening to your gut :)
37. You create your own luck.
Jim Carrey once said, "Visualization works if you work hard. That's the thing. You can't just visualize and go eat a sandwich."
38. When you've found your calling, magical things happen.
Since I founded MindBodyGreen with Tim and Carver back in 2009, magical things began to happen. Even though it took over three years for us to get any traction (see point #7 above about putting in 10,000 hours of work) and there are still some sleepless nights, whenever things tend to get tough for us, something always seems to happen and things end up working out for the better. That's the thing—when you've found your calling, magical things really do happen.
39. Everything is connectedmind, body, and green.
I know I might be preaching to the choir here, but it's totally true :) »

terça-feira, 8 de outubro de 2013

Living the Dream

Parabéns a todos os que participaram/se superaram em eventos desportivos no fim de semana ou que, simplesmente, viveram os vossos sonhoes, sejam eles quais forem!
Continuem a fazê-lo! Todos os dias!


domingo, 22 de setembro de 2013

Nocturno fim Verão, olá Outono

Esta noite culminei uma semana muito boa de treinos...
Após os acontecimentos da passada semana, tentei focar-me nos treinos...
Estou a passar quase incólume a tudo o que aconteceu e, ou «ainda não me caíu a ficha» ou realmente soube «dar a volta por cima»!
Numa semana que teve de tudo: séries, dois duplos diários (corrida, onde reencontrei o excelente Prof. José Mendes de Almeida, seguida de natação), nova alteração de planos desportivos (maratona passa para Amstersdam) e depois de um fim de semana em família pelo Luso (esquecendo a Corrida da Linha)...

onde fiz tudo excepto treinar...
Adorei voltar ao Bussaco (sim, com dois "ss") e imaginei organizar um trail pela mata... recordei o Vale dos Fetos...

Mas no regresso, estava decidido a fazer os 24K planeados.
O Lança ficou um pouco atónito com o horário planeado (21:00), mas lá conseguimos orientar as coisas para começar o treino a essa hora.
Excelente temperatura, bom ritmo, o Rui a pedir-me para fazermos go and back (tinha planeado duas voltas ao paredão), demasiada calçada com os joelhos a dar bastante sinal, mas muita conversa, boa disposição e kms a desaparecerem como se não houvesse amanhã, tendo o Rui feito um excelente treino para quem não andava a fazer longos...
Dei-me conta que era o treino do final do Verão e entrada no Outono (21:44)!
Como disse ao Rui: "vou-me lembrar deste treino na maratona!"

Satisfação pelo dever cumprido! Obrigado, Lança!

quarta-feira, 11 de setembro de 2013

Ego Is Not A Dirty Word





Sou fã de Chris "Macca" McCormack, desde que comecei a ler o seu livro "I'm here to Win" e desde que descobri a sua história no triatlo. Por muitos do circuito Ironman, considerado um «bocas»... por contraponto com o «clean» Craig Alexander, mas já ganhou duas vezes o campeonato do mundo no Hawaii e para além disso, tem um palmarés fantástico na modalidade, desde a categoria sprint.

Infelizmente este ano não irá participar no referido campeonato, após a frustação de no ano passado não ter sido seleccionado para os Jogos Olímpicos de Londres (um dos seus grandes sonhos).

Este texto tem muito a ver consigo, mas também tem muito a ver comigo! Thanks, Macca!


«It is easy to admire and study the “physical” side of an athlete and appreciate the skill, strength or endurance it takes to win. So much focus is given to the physical development of an athlete, while the cerebral aspect is considered peripherally. But to me, the mind has always provided the most fascinating study. What is it that makes athletes believe? It is the ego that defines them, and their understanding of ego as a tool.„
Throughout my own career, it has been my absolute conviction and desire that has put me onto the podium more than any physical training I have ever done. I think it has been this stubbornness to accept that, although physically I might be outclassed by many athletes, when it comes to desire and want, I can out-play anyone. This mind-set has led to me being labelled everything from “brash” and “cocky” to a “smack-talker.” I have always accepted this, because it’s this mind-set and ego that have been my biggest weapons in many of the battles I have had. Whenever I discuss methods of improving performance with young athletes, I always start on the mindset because it guides our progress.
Growing up in a tennis-obsessed family, we settled in front of the tele- vision in Sydney, Australia, in 1987 to watch the final of the greatest Grand Slam of all, Wimbledon. Pat Cash, an Australian, had qualified for the final and was playing Ivan Lendl, the greatest baseline tennis player ever.
Lendl marched into the finals and, on paper, it appeared that he would walk right through Cash and capture his first title at Wimbledon. In an interview prior to his first-ever Grand Slam final, I was mesmerised by Cash’s answer when he was asked if he was ready for the task ahead: “Ready? I am beyond ready. I had no idea who would be facing me in the finals tonight in Wimbledon, but I have known my entire tennis career I would be in this final. It is all I have thought about. It is all I have dreamed about. I have been ready for this day since I picked up a tennis racquet.”
I just melted. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t nervous. At the time I was competing in running races, and I would get nervous to the point of almost feeling sick. Here was this guy, about to play a monster in Ivan Lendl, and he seemed confident and excited. He did not have the power, the experience or the serve to truly push Lendl, yet in every answer to every question, he spoke like at the end of this match his dream would finally become a reality. I will never forget his confidence. (Funnily enough, one of the TV commentators called him “brash and cocky” for daring to believe the way he did.)
When Pat Cash went on to defeat Ivan Lendl that day, I was lost in the emotion of his victory. To have the audacity to stand in front of a “superior” competitor like Lendl, with no fear or doubts, and to execute what he believed he could, changed me. He won against the impossible and never faulted. Suddenly, everyone was a believer.
In his post-match interview, the Australian TV reporter said, “Pat, if I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it. You did it. You won Wimbledon.”
His response was something that has stuck with me my entire career since: “You see, that’s the difference between most people and myself. You think you have to see it to believe it. I think you have to believe it before you see it. That’s a big difference, isn’t it?”
I realised that it was this thought pattern that had guided Pat Cash to his vic- tory—it was driven by his ego! It was like a light went on. Going forward, I didn’t care if anyone thought I couldn’t win. It was up to me to believe I could.
Our ego is simply the way we see ourselves, and in a competitive environment, this is without question our defining variable. This word “ego” is tossed around nowadays with such a negative spin on it. It annoys me to think that by believing in yourself and pursuing your goals and ambitions with conviction you can be ridiculed.
The issue with ego is it is up to the athlete to develop this self-belief. It is up to the athlete to accept his fears and weaknesses and implement strategies to strengthen his character in accepting them and holding true to his dream. This is difficult to do, and for this reason it’s often neglected. Believing in something takes courage. And it’s not easy learning how to find new courage.
Stop hiding behind your fears. Embrace your ego—mould it, change it and utilise it to take you where you want to go. I have never said or done anything within the realm of this sport that I regret. I have been labelled brash, confident, cocky. At times I wondered if my desire to achieve my personal dreams was too much for people to accept, so labelling me was the easiest way to pigeonhole this drive.
But what I’ve come to learn is that it is not who we think we are that holds us back; it is who we think we’re not. Remember, great things happen to those who make great things happen to themselves.
Go and be great.»

Chris “Macca” McCormack has more than 200 race wins to his credit and is widely considered one of the best athletes the sport has ever seen. 

Texto original publicado aqui, no dia 10 de Setembro.

terça-feira, 10 de setembro de 2013

Última Fronteira

Vídeo de hoje é para todos os que gostam de correr... em especial, para duas Amazonas que se vão atrever a passar a Última Fronteira!
Força Carla André e Susana Brás Santos! A torcer por vocês!

1

quarta-feira, 28 de agosto de 2013

In the high country

Em momento de colocar a escrita em dia, estou a ver alguns documentários de corrida...
Este tem como protagonista um trailer que tenho vindo a apreciar pelo seu carácter libertador, despojado do material, Anton Krupicka...
Já vi os cerca de 30 minutos, mas prefiro revê-los novamente e escrever um pouco mais sobre...
As imagens são muito agradáveis, mas quero reter melhor algumas das palavras do protagonista e do seu pai...
Para já, aconselho!

terça-feira, 27 de agosto de 2013

domingo, 25 de agosto de 2013

Força, Portugal!

Muitos, muito bons! 
Para além dos Ultra campeões Carlos Sá, Armando Jorge Teixeira, Luís Mota, outros campeões de Vida, como Paulo Pires, Paulo Picão, Helder Oliveira, o meu Ultra Amigo Pedro Sanguino, a Ultríssima Célia Azenha e tantos, tantos outros! 
Na próxima sexta-feira, é dia de Portugal!
Foto daqui
Boa sorte para todos! Estaremos a torcer por cada um de vocês! 


sexta-feira, 21 de junho de 2013

T-120

Faltam 4 meses para a próxima (última?!?) maratona.

Está na hora de «aquecer os motores» :)
Godspeed!

sexta-feira, 31 de maio de 2013

I AMsterdam

É oficial!
Inscrição feita a 141 dias da prova!
Viagens e estadia marcadas!

Alea Jacta Est

terça-feira, 7 de maio de 2013

Desafios - Ponto de Situação

Sempre em busca de algo novo... de novos desafios... 
Tenho andado claramente à deriva desde a Maratona de Sevilla

buscando novas metas...
A ideia era fazer os 101K de Ronda...

A doença do meu pai, aliada a outras sensações menos interessantes na maratona, levaram a que prescindisse de Ronda...
Seguiu-se a ideia da Ultra Maratona Melides-Tróia...
Infelizmente o corpo não tem ajudado (tive de voltar à acupuntura para remediar novas dores no sacro e uma lesão no joelho direito que ainda estou a aguardar a ecografia para saber a real dimensão) e também já deitei abaixo essa ideia...
Procedi ainda a algumas tomadas de decisão, após alguma reflexão:
1- A partir de Maio, treinar todos os dias, seja o que for, em que tempo for (alterando os horários de algumas actividades, para poder desenvolver outro tipo de capacidades). Estou certo que algumas das minhas lesões se devem a falta de treino/disciplina;
2- Escolher um ginásio que me permita efectuar mais treinos de reforço muscular - feito:

3- Avaliar, como faço em tudo na vida, a equipa onde estou integrado (RB Running) e perceber se estou feliz com a escolha. Decidido! Não encontro melhor, seguramente!
4-  Efectuar um claro reforço na natação, disciplina em que sou muito fraco e retomar alguma actividade com bicicleta - objectivo: iniciar-me no triatlo, se possível, em 2014;
5- Bater os recordes de corrida que ainda faltam bater este ano: 10K e Meia Maratona;
6- Fazer uma maratona no segundo semestre - tenho andado indeciso entre Lisboa (onde estará a maioria RB), Porto e Valencia, tudo dependendo das diversas condições familiares que tenho de reunir para a prova mais distante. Em princípio, Lisboa será a escolhida pela questão logística;
7- Pós-maratona - iniciar preparação para Ronda'14 e triatlo de Oeiras - objectivos para o próximo ano!

E um dia, quem sabe, meter-me na loucura de um Ironman... aqui está um vídeo de alguém que meteu na cabeça que faria um e está-se a preparar para o mesmo, em tempo recorde:





segunda-feira, 8 de abril de 2013

Improvement

Poucos textos, podem representar um pouco daquilo que eu penso que é correr ou, em última análise, Viver... 
Dakota Jones, um grande traileur, 
Foto daqui
 a propósito da sua não participação na Transvulcania deste ano:

"Last May I boarded a plane in Denver and flew all the way to Spain. I didn’t have to pay for this trip. Rather, someone else picked up the tab because I’m “fast” and they wanted me to run a race on the Canary Islands with lots of other fast runners. When, several months before, I had read the email inviting me on the trip, I had sat dumbfounded. The invite was so unexpected that my emotions were delayed. A free trip to Spain! This was the real deal.
It turned out to be far more than just a free trip to Spain. It was a trip to the Canary Islands, where we were housed in a luxury resort and served gourmet food for a week, followed by a trip to the northern part of mainland Spain, where we received the same treatment. The whole time we were catered to, waited on, accommodated for and given everything we asked for. In many ways the trip felt like a grown-up version of high school cross-country – everything was taken care of for us and we just went along, raced and had a good time. That last part is what I’m really trying to get at. We had a really good time.
In order to provide credibility to my story, let me remind everyone that I was hanging out with people like Mike Wolfe, Geoff Roes and Kilian Jornet. I was given a lesson in wine-tasting by Sebastien Chaigneau and played guitar with Anna Frost. I jumped off a cliff into the ocean with Rickey Gates and practiced my Spanish with Iker Karrera. For people who are into the sport of ultrarunning, this is a big deal. I found that not only are these people really talented runners, they are also a lot of fun to hang out with. I like to think that mountain runners are cool people first and athletes second, and many of the people on this trip bore that theory out. Mike Wolfe used to work with troubled teens in Jackson Hole before becoming a lawyer and now a pro runner. Geoff Roes seems to have travelled around the country for many years before settling in Alaska and turning into the Geoff Roes who wins 100-mile races. Ian Sharman does something – I’m not sure what – but from what I can tell he has been all over the world and has a job and can run 100 miles in 12:44. Those are just three examples. I got to know so many people in Spain that to list them all would take far too long. The point is that I saw truly that the sport is comprised of people, not just runners.
But we weren’t just there for fun and games. We were there to race. The first race (and, frankly, the only one where you should pay attention to the results) was the Transvulcania 84km. For my less discerning readers the name comes from the fact that we were traversing (“trans”) a volcano (Spanish (maybe): “Vulcania”). The race was awesome. We started at sea level, the ocean spray nearly splashing over the start line, and proceeded to run up forever. The trail for the first several miles was loose black volcanic sand, and we charged uphill elbows swinging until the field settled into a manageable pack. As the sun rose I found myself running through a desiccated landscape of black rock and pine trees. The ocean haze blended the horizon with the sea on three sides, and way in front pointed up.
I had a good day, and found for the first time that I was able to run as hard as I can with the fastest people in the world and finish well. So well, in fact, that I won the race and set a course record. With only three miles to go I was running neck and neck with a guy who had, only ten minutes, before blazed past me like I was standing still. I was at my utmost limit, my energy so focused that anything beyond the immediate motions to continue moving forward were nonexistent. I didn’t look at the crowds; I didn’t look at the hill looming ahead; I didn’t high-five spectators; I simply ran as hard as I could and let my mind pull my legs forward. While climbing the final hill I dimly realized that I was pulling into the front, and as I came over a rise someone yelled, “un kilometre!” Then a police car fired up and escorted me down the long main street, packed full of hysterical fans, all the way to the finish. I won the race.
Winning felt good. For the obvious reasons, of course, but for others as well. My performance at UTMB the previous summer had been embarrassing; I was glad to prove that I can be worth something. I respected, and still respect, every person I competed against, to a degree that they inspire me to be better with every training run; I was proud to measure myself against them. And, as silly as this may sound, I understood how much work and money had gone into my being at the race at all; I was happy to have made the trip worth their while. That was the biggest win of my career thus far and I will always remember the trip that made it all happen.
That said, I won’t be returning to Transvulcania this year, for the simple reason that I could not do any better. Even if I were to win the race again and set a faster course record, that would only be an improvement by degrees. I am no better than many of the people I ran against last year, and would have no guarantee of winning again, but I ran Transvulcania as well as I will ever run it and that’s a good enough reason to move on to the next goal. I’m taking the same approach to the Lake Sonoma 50 mile – it’s a wonderful race and I had an amazing experience, but I have done all I can there, and I’m ready for the next step. This doesn’t go for every race, I suppose. The Hardrock 100, for example, has a special place in my heart and I look forward to returning to it someday. Then again, I haven’t run as well there as I know I’m capable of, so the desire to try again is strong. The bottom line for me is that once I have accomplished a goal I like to move on. Dominance does not interest me; progression does.
My progression is not for everyone. I have goals designed by dreams dictated by values. My values manifest as priorities, and my priorities alienate some and inspire others. By saying I’m somehow “finished” with Transvulcania will seem to some people arrogant, as if by having won the race I am somehow better than it. That is not the case, in my view. Rather, I believe that I have done all that I can at that race, learned a lot, and should now move forward onto something new. Fixating on success is so easy, and trying new things is so hard. Thus, in either an attempt to be better or an attempt to continually suffer failure (however you look at it), I am trying new things. And these new things aren’t really high-profile, because they mostly involve moderately difficult technical climbing, the kind of climbing that anyone can do. My theory is that if I get good enough I can go big and fast and expand my range as an athlete. But that remains to be seen. For now I’m just trying to improve.
Perhaps the point I’m trying to make is that in order to be really fulfilled I need to always be trying to improve. Being “improved” would be stagnant and boring. But trying to improve is difficult, demoralizing, painful, discouraging and… worth it. Piecing together success from the countless fragments of failure is what makes a person better, and even though I am so often not as good as that sentence, even though I’m so often lazy or unmotivated or boring, I still believe that recognizing my shortcomings as stepping stones in light of a continual effort to be better is the way to improve as a person. I want to strike a balance between meekness (“I suck”) and arrogance (“I’m awesome”). That’s why I’m going from the best year of racing of my life to whatever the hell is going on this year, which I’m still totally unsure of. Perhaps this will all turn out to be a bust and a failure, but I don’t think it will ever be a waste of time. That’s because the goal is worth trying for.
That’s really all I have to say. Find the goals that are worth trying for. Believe that you can accomplish them, and don’t get discouraged when you fail a thousand times. With enough passion and persistence, you will become better and achieve those goals. Beyond all else, don’t let anyone else dictate the way you view the world. If you believe in your goal, you should also believe in its superiority to other pursuits that want to use your time and energy. Make choices and stick to them. Believe in yourself. You can do anything you set your mind to."

 

terça-feira, 19 de março de 2013

Bate Estradas, meu Pai Herói

Há alguns anos iniciei a «brincadeira» dos blogues...
Comecei por um Runner, cheguei ao Mister... meu «vómito» diário do que me ia na alma, num momento em que a alma precisava de extravasar diariamente... ajudando na minha forma de ver/viver a minha Vida...
Voltei ao desporto, para outra grande mudança, começando por marcar o meu ritmo (Pace)... daí ao triatlo como objectivo, o blogue passou a Iron!

Hoje mudo outra vez o título do meu blogue «desportivo»... fruto da minha incessante busca de quebrar rotinas mas, fundamentalmente, de uma sentida homenagem!

Hoje é dia do Pai... Dia do meu Pai!

No dia em que consegui terminar a minha segunda maratona, em Sevilla, o meu Pai sofreu uma trombose profunda na perna direita... seguiu-se uma embolia pulmonar... e depois ainda, uma infecção pulmonar... Esteve internado cerca de duas semanas, sem causa determinada para tais problemas...
A tudo isto, o meu Pai resistiu como sempre... sem um lamento, sem um queixume, como se tudo fizesse parte normal da sua Vida!
Ele é um resistente e dos bons! Abençoado por Deus!

Quando estava na tropa, para além de passar por muitas vicissitudes, ganhou a alcunha de «Bate Estradas»*... 
Segundo me contam repetidamente nos «almoços da tropa», porque quando passava por zonas minadas, nada lhe acontecia, ao contrário do infortúnio que estava destinado a alguns dos seus camaradas!
Sempre que vamos aos ditos almoços, os colegas perguntam-lhe: «ainda guardas as botas?»
Dizem que as botas tinham poderes especiais, como os super-heróis...
Não duvido, o meu Pai é um Herói, o meu Herói!
Ele, limita-se a dizer que tinha apenas sorte!
Eu é que tenho a sorte de te ter como Pai! E, já agora, de ter uma Mãe igualmente fantástica!
Merecem o melhor que a Vida tem ainda para dar!

Hoje é dia do meu Pai e da minha Mãe! Mas para mim, todos os dias são assim!

* Bate Estradas, era a designação usada pelos nossos soldados no Ultramar para designar um aerograma e que era uma carta que se enviava por correio aéreo, sem necessidade de sobrescrito.
Ganhou fama durante a Guerra Colonial, como meio de comunicação preferencial entre as famílias na Metrópole e as tropas destacadas em Angola, Moçambique e Guiné-Bissau, em virtude de ser um meio grátis de correspondência, mantido pelo antigo SPM (Serviço Postal Militar).



quinta-feira, 31 de janeiro de 2013

99... para Ronda

Porque é um acto de superação!
Veja-se Super Paco, um septuagenário, que faz esta prova com «uma bengala» as costas :)

quarta-feira, 30 de janeiro de 2013

terça-feira, 29 de janeiro de 2013

101

101 razões para correr La Legion 101, em  Ronda:
101, porque é um desafio colossal!
Faltam 101 dias.