Remembering to not forget.

Training in December, when the temperature ridicules me at -49C windchill, is all about remembering old patterns.

I forgot that. I forgot the energy I could create and the feelings I could dissipate by doing some very simple drills.

Yeah, they hurt. Yup, it is a pain to run indoors. Is it embarrassing to be goose stepping around a bunch of teenagers and elliptically committed adults? You bet! And I can't even spell machs...mocks...mawks?

Still. Remember how good it felt to finish the workouts? Remember how prepared I felt wading into the water or getting off the bike. I trained for that transition. I trained in the depths of insanely cold winter so that I can concentrate on doing the race, not worrying about whether I could finish or not!

And even when I found myself so cramped up that I wanted to cry, it was never a question of not finishing. It was always about damage control, or dealing with temperature, or how long to walk backwards until my quads came back on line.

Waking up to -49C windchill, I forgot about all this.

It took a phone conversation with an ancient friend to remind me. She reminded me that in 1976, I wanted to be just like Bruce Jenner.

She reminded me that even though I was on the fast track for field stardom, at least in shotput, the politics of amateur athletics suffocated my dreams. I wasn't allowed to defend my gold medal.

She reminded me to remember the curiosity I once had lighting fires everywhere in me and, once too often, around me.

It is that curiosity that made me relearn to swim and do a first ever sprint triathlon.

It is that curiosity that made me first ask: "what happens when I push that?"

So what will happen when I push myself to train a little harder in December to March?

I'll see the difference at the beach at Ironman, in the transitions and in the quiet moments where there is no noise but my footfalls.

I'll not forget to remember!