I live in fear of being discovered. One day someone is going to realise I’m making it up as I go along. I will slip up. It will be a simple mistake, but it will give the game away. It’s amazing I’ve managed to bluff for this long. Somehow nobody has noticed.
As a teenager I assumed I’d reach an understanding and no longer need to pretend. Disappointingly by my twenties I was none the wiser. All that changed was the nature of the pretence. University refined the art. Weekly tutorials were a one to one test of knowledge and understanding or in my case the ability to bluff. I think there were suspicions.
I conned my way from a degree to a masters. A pretence so good that I achieved a distinction and the University employed me. Before they could see through the deception I moved on to the next ruse: a job in the real world. I bluffed so well I became vital during my ten year career. They never saw through me.
I mastered the art; I cruised through the deception. Keep working. Keep delivering solutions. Ensure no one saw through the act.
There’s no bluff in sport, just a result. I couldn’t fake here. Racing in a public venue with results recorded and verifiable. There would be no hiding. But I beat people. Somehow I’d bluffed.
How had I pulled this off? I’d seen how I trained; I’d heard how everyone else trained. There was no way I could be beating those who knew what they were doing. I was a fake. Perplexed I repeatedly tested the result. Every time the same: I was beating people.
In the face of hard evidence a contrary belief soon crumbles. It took thirty years, but I had to accept I was only conning myself. Writing off my successes as the product of luck. The link between the work I did and the results that followed was undeniable. I was the deciding factor in my success or failure.
The fear never completely vanishes. The sense that I’m slightly out of my depth. At the start of each week I wait for client emails with baited breath. A tiny part of me still wonders…
Will they have noticed?
Posted by Russ on 28-2-2011
Winter was no place for my normally carefully shaved head, nor anything like a mohican. Cold weather requires one thing: hair. I’ve not sheared my hair since returning from Hawaii. I intend to keep the look till I consider it warm. Aside from providing insulation my hair has become a source of entertainment.
A last desperate grasp at youthful rebellion? I’m aware of the grey hairs sneaking round the sides. They won’t be dyed; when the time comes they’re coming off. Long hairs not new much of my twenties were spent with it down my back. This time it’s curly. That is new! Apparently a family trait that’s waited till now to show. I like the wild look.
Once you’re a serious triathlete the legs are supposed to be shaven. Whatever the justification it’s aesthetics. There’s no gain. I’ve done it, spending years as a hairless triathlete. Shaving my legs twice a week or being waxed. Four years was enough and laziness kicked in.
Coinciding with a low point in fitness and body image I just let it grow. I’d remain hairy until I looked like a triathlete. When I was fit and lean. When I was within ten percent of race weight then I’d shave. Hair represented my athletic status. You could judge my fitness by the growth on my legs as much as the muscle definition.
There’s an expectation that a good triathlete should be smooth. Eschewing the norm is satisfying. I’m proudly hairy until the point I’m ready to race. Maybe I don’t look serious, but the hair on my legs never held me back.
I realised where my current appearance belonged when I found Anton Krupicka’s blog. That guy is hairy. Hairy and scarily lean. Looking in the mirror I’m taking the first steps down that path. The hair is coming and the leanness will follow. At odds with triathletes, I’m increasingly looking like an ultrarunner. If only I was up to the mileage.
I’ll cultivate the look. Starting with the beard. I’m beyond simple stubble and into scratchy, irritating territory. This is the point when I usually cave and shave. But I want a beard. I’m curious. I’ve never had one: that’s a good enough reason for me.
So I’m holding out. By the end of March I’ll have the proper ultrarunner aesthetics. I doubt it’ll last more than a month. Curiosity is enough to make me try, but I’m vain and once I’m fit and lean I’d rather look like a triathlete. I’ll rejoin the ranks of hairless triathletes and worry more about my tan.
Posted by Russ on 26-2-2011
Practice makes perfect. Perfect practice makes perfect. It takes years of work to be an overnight success. Or any of the variations on this theme. The relevance of time and work in building success is something I encounter in training. The idea that 10,000 hours are required to master a skill was popularised by Outliers: The Story of Success
. I may be misrepresenting it as the book remains on my reading list. I’ll refrain from comment or criticism. However I am convinced time and practice are the route to improvement.
This blog isn’t just the product of an egotistical urge to express myself. I want to be a better writer. I am giving myself the opportunity to practice, to accelerate my accumulation of 10,000 hours. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon 750 Words and was intrigued by the idea of committing to a regular volume of writing. A challenge. Thirty days of writing.
I’m not unfamiliar with the benefits of challenges: thirty runs of thirty minute in thirty days or a forty kilometre swim week. They work. They’ve helped me improve my skills and fitness as an athlete. Accruing hours of practice is fundamental to sporting development. No shortcuts. There’s no reason to believe the same won’t hold true for writing.
I’m certain. Compare the start of my blogging career with the present. Hopefully you’ll see the progression. They’re bad; I know they’re bad. They evoke the same discomfort as seeing pictures from my childhood. An awkward boy with a dodgy haircut dressed in ill fitting, brown clothes. It wasn’t my fault: my parents dressed me that way! I’ve no excuses for my early attempts at blogging.
The 750 Word challenge has the decency to keep those words private. I lack that consideration and have opted to share what I write. I am also far from convinced I’ll manage a daily cycle or 750 words. At least not for a while, there’s a lot on my plate. It’s a goal and much like any I’ll progress towards it.
The real reasoning behind this blog was writing. Wanting a space to talk about more than triathlon was a ruse. I share my thoughts in person, by email, on the phone. Direct communication with friends about subjects other than sport. I don’t have a burning need to publicly express my opinion. I do have a need to be a better writer, to practice the craft and hopefully improving.
Now I need to get beyond the self-justification and write about something interesting.
Posted by Russ on 24-2-2011
I don’t need another blog, but I want another blog. It’s irrational. I’m not short of work; free time is limited. I struggle to produce good content for Trains, Travels and now I’ve two sites to manage. This may not be my smartest move!
There was a time when I laughed at bloggers. Pointless attention seekers. My opinion hasn’t entirely changed; I’ve simply accepted I want the attention. Despite those arrogant beliefs I started blog number one when I left to travel and train. A means for a handful of people back home to see what I was up to. Efficiency: less emailing, all the news is online.
Over time what was a blog about my daily life became one about triathlon training. In an ideal world I’d have saved the site for personal blogging and put content about training somewhere else. The CoachCox domain would have been perfect for that. Unfortunately organic growth means I’m stuck with a less elegant solution.
A new blog on a new domain with new intentions. This is my personal blog. I aim to update it regularly, but I make no promises. I don’t intend to overload readers with essays or advice; I’ll write what I like. No plans. Triathlon will make an appearance, but so will the rest of my life. It’s all fair game.
But really why? Accidentally liking a Doctor Who video on You Tube (thanks iPhone) marked the starting point: a few people had never seen me make a non-Triathlon comment before. I’d effectively adopted a triathlete persona and left the nerd behind. Time to address the balance.
If you want my thoughts on triathlon training go to Trains, Travels. If you want coaching go to CoachCox. If you’re interested in the rest of the rubbish in my head stay here.
(I promise that when the new season starts in the spring this won’t be a Doctor Who fan blog)
Posted by Russ on 23-2-2011
