People participate in sports at young ages for a multitude of reasons:  it’s fun to play; competition is healthy; sports can be great teachers for life’s lessons; because parents need to get kids out of the house; camaraderie; learning to overcome adversity; learning to work well with others toward a common goal; fostering a feeling of accomplishment; and so on.  And, as we get older, the seriousness with which we approach sports escalates, naturally and deliberately.  It is as if young athletes get on an elevator going up and decide at some point which floor is theirs and when it’s time to get off the ride. 
 
The vast majority of athletes will never compete professionally.  In fact, very few will.  And of the few who do hit the big time, even fewer will be good enough and lucky enough to make a long-term solid living at it.  Which begs the question:  Why?  Why do athletes who realize they will never make it as a pro continue to compete through high school and collegiately?  For some, it is the love of the sport.  Indeed, these athletes continue to compete in their sports beyond college as recreational or serious Masters athletes.  But, my gut tells me the majority of athletes who continue competing in school and beyond do so borne out of a sense that they “have to” keep training and competing.  That they are doing these things because the wheel ruts are well worn.  That they would be lost without being a slave to the grind.
 
On my ride this weekend, taking in some of the steep and long gravel climbs Boulder can serve up, I was just settling in and not worrying so much about effort.  On a particular pitch, I got out of the saddle for about a quarter-mile, feeling good and enjoying the rhythm of the bike rocking beneath me.  It was exactly then that I realized I would never again ride a bike as fast as I have in the past, even as recently as last year.  And, that whatever KOMs and Top 10s I have on Strava were dead man walking results.  Which then got me to thinking, “Why am I doing this?” 
 
Why am I still working out and challenging myself.  After deciding that last year was my last for bike racing, I don’t train nearly as much.  A long ride is under 3 hours rather than 4-6.  I’ve also started running again, after the better part of 15 years, aside from the odd cross-training while traveling or what have you.  I have found that I put a greater value on my leisurely time than on my training time.  I simply do not want to do a 100-miler on a Saturday.  Nor do I want to burn an entire day or weekend traveling to a race, racing, waiting for awards and then traveling back home just in time for dinner.  That grind holds no appeal to me anymore.
 
Instead of heading out the door at 0-Dark-30, I want to enjoy a quiet morning coffee with my lovely wife, be it a weekday or weekend day.  I limit myself to 45-75 minutes for a workout Monday-Friday.  Saturday is in the 1.5-3-hour range.  Sundays are completely off.  And, cardio workouts are secondary now.  Primary is strength training.  I hit the gym 5 days/week, lift first and then do a short cardio session directly after.  In-and-out in roughly an hour.
 
Which has put me in touch as to the underlying “why” into which all of us should tune.  The underlying “why” is not about competition.  It is not about accolades.  It is about well-being.  It is about ensuring that when we hit our Golden Years, our bodies are holding up, that we are strong and sturdy and moving like people two decades our junior.  It is so the back-half of our lives can be filled with just as much quality of life as our front half.  And, let’s be honest – we worked so damn hard for so many years that it is a complete dereliction of duty if we hit retirement and move like a brittle piece of deadwood.  Because then what the hell was all that sacrifice for?
 
Being physical has been an intrinsic part of my life since age 5.  Being the best has morphed into being the best I can now be.  I still put myself in the hurt locker plenty.  When I feel like it and not when I don’t feel like it.  And I no longer measure my output.  Riding indoors will never happen again.  I ditched my power meter and my KICKR.  My bike computer is smaller than the face of my watch and is bare bones.  I ride the gravel bike when I feel like riding it; I run the Boulder trails when I feel like running.  I don’t care how many rides or runs I do in a given week.  In cutting my weekly training volume in half and with the primary focus being on strength training, I feel healthier than I have in many years.  And I feel more balanced.  I would not change a thing.
 
I’ll never again swim a 5,000 for time and hold :58-:59 per 100yds.  I’ll never churn out 5:00 miles for a 10k at the end of an Olympic Distance triathlon.  I’ll never have an FTP well above 300 watts.  What I WILL have is a more capable body — more mobile, stronger, heavier and leaner than at any time since I left college.  The parable I like to use is that I just hit the turnaround in the TT of Life.  It is critical there is enough left in the tank so that I’m hitting the finish line at full throttle, not running out of gas with a quarter of the race still to go.  Because this is when life becomes a battle.  This is when years of use, abuse, attention and neglect start being brought to bear.  It has become time to focus on the daily grind that risks decimating us should we not give it the respect it well deserves.  So that when we are finally on our death beds, we have allowed ourselves to wring every bit of quality out of this one life that we possibly could.  That we regret nothing.
 
This is what motivates me now.  This is the “why”.
 
Happy Training,
Coach Nate

As endurance athletes, we’ve largely lost our way.  In our quest to become bigger-faster-stronger (legally, I hope), we’ve been fooled by very compelling – and expensive – marketing tactics and strategies.  Despite being completely debunked, shills are still making money off the concept of Marginal Gains.  Sure, they give it a new skin, but it is the same BS.  Like Blackbox Thinking is the key to unlocking the door to reaching our true potentials.  Please. 

But, it doesn't end there.  Gadgets, the latest discovered super food, sexy supplements and hacks (oh, how I utterly HATE that word) are the trickeries, the shortcuts that if we use – no, that we MUST use – we will reach new heights previously deemed unattainable.  And, if we don’t use them then we will fail at our own peril. 

But, why is addressing the final 1-2% of the improvement equation more important than first addressing the other 98-99%?  By focusing on the 1-2% -- the tiny, tactical, insignificant details – we end up largely ignoring the strategic foundation of the 98-99%.  Think of building a house.  The structure itself can be constructed of all the latest-and-greatest materials and have all the modern efficiencies possible.  But, if that house is built without a foundation, then it will fall apart like a house of cards at the first strong wind or storm.  Putting together a sound training plan is no different.  Without first establishing a strategic and sound foundation, the possible gains you could receive from addressing that final 1-2% is a useless exercise.  For example, if you’re not sleeping enough (foundational), then no superfood or magical supplement is going to provide you with more energy or better performances. 

And, here’s another dose of reality.  For the vast majority of endurance athletes, the Marginal Gains are immaterial.  They don’t matter.  At all.  Unless you are already at the top of the athletic pyramid where 0.5-1% is all that stands between winning and finishing off the podium, then obsessing over the minutia does us little to no good.  Rather than spend $1,000 or more on the fastest, most cutting edge wetsuit to shave time off your triathlon swim, instead work on your stroke technique to gain efficiency and log more time in the pool to increase your endurance.  Because then the $300 wetsuit will serve you just fine (really, it will).  For the same type of analysis on the bike, you can read another article I wrote on the Cost v Benefit of Aero Equipment.  Even with running, where the cost outlay is straightforward and less costly than either swimming or cycling, the premise is identical.  Do we really need that super space age $150+ pair of shoes to prevent injury or to run longer and faster? 

It's time for a dose of reality.  It’s time for endurance athletes to shift their focus to the structural foundation of what they do – to the 98-99%.  Unless you can unequivocally say your foundation is as strong as bedrock, then forget about the minutia.  The more solid your foundation, the more you will be able to build upon it. 

The biggest challenge is that we exist in a world of immediate gratification.  The gadgets and the hacks and the super secrets of the pros are very attractive because they provide us with the promise of shortcuts.  Why train multiple sessions a day and put in many hours of dedicated work every week if instead we are promised the same results in less than half the time?  Where the argument of the quick fix falls down is that it assumes or even portends that innovation and creativity occur in the absence of a basic foundation, when in fact it is precisely that foundation which unlocks the power of the innovation.  The foundation is prior or existing knowledge; the innovation is a potential iteration of that foundational knowledge.  See what I mean? 

If your diet is terrible, then the best supplement in the world will only start to make up for the holes in your diet plan.  It sure won’t boost your performance.  If you heel strike and hunch over like Quasimodo when you run, better to work on your form before you invest in expensive shoes.  If you ride an ill-fitting bike, then you must first address your position before you slap on a set of $2,000 race wheels.  Yet, we are programmed to do the complete opposite.  We look for improvements in all the wrong places.  Because the investment of money is so much easier to rationalize than the investment of time. 

The focus on the final 1-2% has created quite a problem.  There are only so many final touches – legit and mythical – which we can perform before we very quickly reach our limit.  And therein lies the irony.  The Marginal Gains, by definition, account for very, very little.  And, no, there is no mathematical aggregation of those minuscule things.  Ten 0.1% minuscule "gains" will not add up to 1%.  The returns on those gains are so small and are maxed out very quickly.  Yet, what happens when we hit the ceiling?  We exacerbate the problem by searching for the next Magic Bullet, the next magic pill, the next hack (oh, that fucking word). 

To be clear, nearly all endurance athletes are not at a point in their progression where worrying about the 1-2% makes any sense.  You must first master your craft before you focus on becoming the best-of-the-best.  It is in that pursuit of ultimate excellence when focusing on the minutia will yield measurable return.  Understand the basics and why they are important.  Nail them.  Come back to them frequently, even as you iterate on your training plan one year to the next.  That’s the path to real success for just about anyone but the elite of the elite.
   
And that path is very simple to both find and follow – sleep more; eat better; train consistently and tick all the energy system boxes.  The problem is that the best advice isn’t sexy.  It’s not sleek and shiny and full of buzzwords.  So, it doesn’t sell.  
 
Which is unfortunate. 
​
Happy Training, 
Coach Nate ​

​From 2010-2015, 224 British athletes missed providing drug testing samples due to ABP (Athlete Biological Passport) Whereabouts violations. Those who complain that this is not current news complete miss its relevance -- cheating is a timeless problem endemic to all of Sport. To marginalize this and to report that "this in no way implies guilt or suggests wrongdoing or cheating" only serves to further perpetuate the omerta and excuse the cheating.

The better part of a year ago, I posted this video on the ORION YouTube channel discussing the transitions in Life through which we all invariably go. In short, Life is not linear, nor is our desire for the physical pursuits we choose.  At some point, the rigor of what we are doing outweighs the enjoyment we once received from the pursuit, and it might be time to re-evaluate why it is we do what we do.  It is also important to understand our motivations behind these pursuits, so we continue to do them for the right reasons.  Do we feel we “have to” train rather than simply work out?  Do we feel we “have to” compete in a specific sport rather than another sport or competitive outlet?  Do we feel we “have to” go hard or go home, because otherwise the pursuit is not worth the investment of time we are giving it?  And so on.
 
When I made that video hyperlinked above, a series of events created a perfect storm to take a step back from the competitive cycling season about a month early.  A decision I anticipated would be fraught with internal turmoil was actually shockingly easy to make and absorb.  Since that time, I reprioritized how I approached the Fall/Winter of training in the following ways:  1) I made strength training primary -- frankly, I was tired of looking like a cycling climber for the past 15+ years and, having turned 50 last December, it was time to really focus on ensuring the highest quality of existence for the back-half of my life; 2) I cut back on the cycling volume – no more 1-2hr sessions at 0-dark-30; 3) In making strength training primary, I would follow a session up immediately with a short 20-30min cardio session of varying intensity depending on the flow of the week – this served to up the impact of the session and create some economy of scale in the day; 4) I stopped setting the alarm for 3:45-4:15am and instead wake up fairly naturally at 5:15-5:25 like clockwork – the upshot being I get an extra 60-90min of sleep every night; and 5) I decided to finally get back to some trail running – something I’ve wanted to do for a handful of years but felt compromised my cycling too much given the Colorado racing season starts fast and furious the first weekend of March with the Frostbite TT.
 
I’ve won the Frostbite TT multiple times.  It is right in my sweet spot given its length and my power curve.  The out-and-back course is imperceptibly downhill on the way out and nefariously, noticeably uphill on the way back.  It’s a 30+mph effort for roughly 25 minutes.  You either blast it or it cooks you.  I’ve gotten to the point where I feel I own that race given the level of success I’ve achieved with it.  This race alone kept me motivated through the Fall/Winter of relentless indoor sessions because there is nothing like kicking off the season by ‘opening the account’ with a victory.  But, something really interesting happened this year.  Two days before Frostbite, one of my teammates posted on our team’s Facebook page that Frostbite might be postponed due to some shitty weather set to roll through Colorado heading into the weekend.  I read that and I just stared blankly at the screen. 
 
A shocking reality hit me.  No, not that I would not have the opportunity to defend my title from 2018.  Rather, until reading his post, I HAD NOT EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THE RACE!  Sitting there in shock, the following thoughts ricocheted around my mind – I had not renewed my racing license; I had not had ‘the talk’ with my wife at Christmastime about the racing plans for the upcoming season; I had not been on Zwift at all the entire Fall/Winter; I had not done any structured interval sessions on the bike; I had not done any group rides; knowing it was the beginning of March, I never even connected the dots that the beginning of the racing season was upon us. 
 
What I’ve come to realize is that at this point in my life, challenging myself is enough.  The process of betterment is not much different than it is when I was focused on competing year round.  The absence of race-specific goals is really the only piece of the puzzle missing.  I have thought about competing in some trail running events this summer and felt myself aggressively preparing to ramp up the running.  My wife, always one to provide some grounding perspective, posed this to me yesterday:  “You ever think about taking a year off?  You’ve been competing non-stop since you were 6 years old.  All the signs since last summer seem to point to needing a step back and a break.”
 
She’s absolutely right.  I need to sit with what it feels like to not compete, absorb it and see how I react to it over the course of the year.  Choosing not to compete in no way keeps me from doing what I would do anyway.  In fact, if anything, it liberates me to do exactly what it is I feel like doing on any given day without worrying about if it is the “right” or “wrong” thing to do.  Because there will be zero impact on any predetermined goals associated with competition.  Freedom.  Enjoyment.  Adventure.
 
The trail run races I had originally earmarked for 2019 still intrigue me.  I can see doing them in 2020.  But, for now, the sheer enjoyment of movement, and challenging myself and my limits in ways that I haven’t in a really long time are both very appealing.
 
To be clear, there is nothing wrong with racing and competing.  Races can be wonderful expressions of our athletic selves.  My cautionary tale here is that if you feel beholden to compete, then a step back for a fresh perspective is probably a good call.  There should be no “have to” associated with any training or racing we do – because it is our choice to do or not do an activity.  Rather than define yourself as a particular type of athlete – “I’m a triathlete,” for example – instead the sport should just be one facet by which you define yourself.  “I’m a woman, wife, sibling, mother, friend, teacher, volunteer and I also compete in triathlons.”  Subtle, but big difference in mindset.  And an important one. 
 
If you find yourself struggling with the whole ‘challenge myself vs competing’ conundrum, hopefully this post will help you process that and come to a conclusion, in either direction, about which you’re excited and happy.
 
Happy Training,
Coach Nate

​The number of doping-related scandals and sheer insanity of perspective has rendered modern day Sport a dead man walking.  Whether it be the brazen systematic cheating (athletes are NOT going rogue), or the ineffectiveness of the AD system, or the fact that money trumps reason, there has never been a better time in the history of Sport to be a cheater.  That is disheartening state of affairs.