And throughout it all, if I am correct, we are to maintain a stiff upper lip, keep calm and carry on. Right?
Hammering out my now traditional Kona hill repeats this morning, I was stuck on a phrase. REMO. It popped into my consciousness like a mackerel jumping out of the blue Pacific. There the comparison ends because the fish stayed airborne as I attempted to decode the message.
Go swim?
Leave your element?
San Remo?
By the time I had trotted down the hill (5:05) and started the trek back up (5:10) I think I had it.
REMO, RE-MO, with a hyphen.
Re-motivate, re-motivation. RE-MO
I was reminded of how mine took the last train to heck (in a economy class hand basket) immediately after it became apparent that my quest to compete here THIS YEAR had been derailed. And as much as I continued to train, there was simply something missing. I think you know what that something was.
The motivation to push. To get up and get out when things aren't perfect. To embrace the lifestyle more than the accomplishment. This ain't no bucket list. This is the real deal. This is me doing what I do. And without motivation, I am a fraud.
There is nothing quite like the yearly pilgrimage to the home of the World Championships. As early as 0600 the usual suspects were gathering to polish their campaigns. This is race week, the best of the best are here, from around out beautiful blue planet. The electricity is so thick you can cut through it with a dull spoon. I am here again, with very few exceptions, as doing religiously since 1999.
I get caught up in all the hubris and the energy of this magical locale.
It took me three hill repeats to get mt. REMO back.
And it feels great!!!!!!
Aloha from Kona, day one. Mahalo.
Pix: Remo starts with a fresh papaya and coffee, a block from Dig-Me beach with stark contrast in color, texture and hue. Day one, half done.
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