Cuando Llego, Nadie Lo Espera

Tomorrow will be the start of 2023 according to the Gregorian Calendar. 112 according to the Juche Calendar. 2776 as marked by Ab urbe condita. You see, time in a way is always irrelevant from a sequential quantitative perspective. It's constantly starting and ending, allowing us an exponential amount of moments to reflect and resume from modern life's absurdities. The present and past are always vaguely meshing in our heads, thus, allowing us to experience a qualitative intensity of life.

For me, 2023 running frame started 4 weeks ago after a Mexicas post-long run confab. Discussion of this guild of iron neuron brains lies ahead. 

If there's one thing that I have a boundless appreciation for this year, it is a knitting of collective growth through running with the two-legged broncos pictured above. Experiencing qualitative intensity alone has never been an issue for me. In fact, it has been my preferred mode of operating since I was a young child. I thrive in independently creating networks of behaviors & lenses that aid in achieving & seeing my life goals. What's occurred in my life this fall is an addition of life to elevate my love to something close to my heart. 

Mexicas is a class of lads hailing from different birth years who have arrived at the same mental pathway. Somos una colección de piernas ansiosas de vida y muerte. Without fail, you will spot us every Saturday & Sunday at 5:30-6:00 a.m. shivering in the cold at the following coordinates: 32.814125, -96.727576. 

Do honk at us if you see us discussing the art of lucha libre masks. 

Mexicas are no strangers to me. My introduction to them began in 2013, roughly around the birth of this blog. The invitation to join was always open, but when you have tendencies of a hyper independent individual, you don't realize that a preferred mode of operating in some shape or form has been holding you back. I won't go too far into this now, but understanding the machineries of my operation has led me to work on a few things things in 2022. 

Ah, the infinite work of understanding, eh? How she makes us feel like complete suckers sometimes.

To put it quite simply, I've been having a crack at understanding my fears a little more... once again. Fear is a common human emotion that is quietly swaying the behavior of our everyday lives. When it comes to running, understanding the infinite influence this emotion has on our intellectual framework is a step to building what my sensei used to say, una mente de hiero. Training sessions as a group serve as that opportunity for exploring solutions. It is a chance to be observed by a different mind other than one's own. 

Anyway, g2g. Enjoy one of my top songs from 2022 according to Spotify. 

What a beautiful day, 

Erik Tristan

East Dallas 

NYE '22

Aquí les demuestro, Aquí les advierto

Gerardo Ortiz - Aquiles Afirmo

 Tuesday morning before my track workout I woke up from a nightmare. The details are a bit hazy, but a central symbol in my dream was a tornado. A natural association to this observance is destruction and chaos, possibly inferencing some turmoil within myself, but I'd like to interpret it a bit differently. You see, I was actually watching a colleague endure violent winds through a Zoom work meeting. It was a state of helplessness that I hope to never experience in my waking life. I'm no dream expert, but if theories suggesting that it is our brain dumping data (memories) while simultaneously working parts of our brain associated with higher order thinking, surely the opportunity to find meaning is there. 

I specifically remember musing on Monday night about the supplemental things I have stopped doing for running since 2020. Things important to my essence such as writing, reading, and making advances on my research projects. After my rough marathon debut in March, the overall trending decline was even steeper to the point that the aforementioned level of being was nonexistent. I made the  semi-conscious decision 6 months ago to deduce running to a simpler format. One that didn't ask much from me besides getting out the door and enjoying the run. The now. Sometimes that's all that is necessary and enough, but what I'm after requires a je ne sais quoi that lingers all through my central nervous system, and when I am unable to practice at that level, it's discouraging for me. Several things scare me in life, but there's one thing that has dictated me, and that's the idea of not reaching my brain's full potential. Apart from that, my environment suddenly didn't feel the same level of quality that it did before. Despite being an introvert and valuing my alone time, I began to experience a form of cabin fever from WFH and training in solitude that I had never experienced. 

Monday night was not a case of frantic thought, but of peaceful reflection. If this makes any sense, I'd felt all my faults and let my instinct guide me before I even put this all into words. Clearing things out to rebuild has been long overdue. I'm thankful for the place I am in now, and fortunate to be surrounded by peeps who share a similar feeling of transcendence through running. Le vamos a meter con todo.

This week's training menu:

Monday: 6.33 miles easy + 6 x 100m strides

Tuesday: 2 miles easy + 10 x 400m w/ 400m recovery jog + 1 mile easy. 

Wednesday: 2 miles easy + 10 x (2 min. threshold/2 min. easy) + 1 mile easy. 

Thursday: 7 miles easy

Friday: 4 miles easy + 6 x 100m 

Saturday: 2 miles easy + 5 x 1 mile w/ 4 min. recovery + 1 mile easy

Sunday: 12 miles easy

It will be done. I assure you, 

Muta

Amor No Me Digas Adios, No Te Vayas

Te Quiero A Ti - Kumbia Kings

Please cook your next meal to this song.

Identical and distant sing-a-longs are contagious.

 Buenas, buenas razita aficionada a la lectura,

There was an involuntary pause in training & life pondering, but after reheating some of my dinner preparations, and going out for a stroll around the neighborhood park to aid my digestion, now seems like a perfect time to lay the needle on the digital records and see where the mind would like to wonder towards. Bada-bam-bam-bam.

I continue to make progress in my internal athletic development. With my main event 32 weeks away, I find this upcoming semester critical in my journey of note-taking & advancement. Jujutsu Kaisan has made it's way in front of my dinner plate, and if one were to perform a textual analysis on this show's dialogue, I'd bet new slippers that one of the words with the highest frequency would be curse. 

For the past few years I've been wary of curses known in the running world as injuries. When you've been starved of something for so long, it's difficult to slow down the complex motor patterns that involve mastication when extreme hunger occurs. It causes you to swallow food not properly chewed. In 2014, I brought these curses onto myself by training myself into the ground. I thought I had unlimited curse taming energy. But I spoke over the honest voice that told me to back off a little, and life hit me with that stanky perfumed, NO. Mind over matter works, but knowing when to turn it on & off, but somehow keeping it as an instinct, is a true feat of mental dexterity. A skill I that still requires me to spend some time practicing. For my starved Hispanic hustlers out there, dale a toda su pinche madre, y dale tranqui. 

Summer 2022 will be special for me. I'm holding the revolver steady. 

Here is what I'll be constructing my bullets out of this week:

Monday: 

AM: 45 minutes easy

PM: Writing, yoga & foam roller session

Tuesday:

AM: 1hr easy + 8 x 100m strides

PM: Form Drills

Wednesday:

AM: 2 miles easy + 5 x (3min. on/2min. off) + 2 miles easy

PM: Strength Session

Thursday:

AM: 50 minutes easy

PM: Yoga & foam roller session

Friday:

AM: 40 minutes easy + 10 x 100m strides

PM: Strength + art/writing session 

Saturday:

AM: 7 miles easy 

Sunday:

AM: 12-13 miles on flat route

Time for me to pee now. Please have a bag of Popcorners for me sometime. 

Cosas del amor, 

Eri. Tri.

Let's Start Smiling At The Errors Of Our Past

Let's set the tone for tonight's spectacle.

Please grab your choice of drink.

 

When I love, I love deeply, though it is not often. 10 years ago, before muta est sprouted from spit on the ground, I said to myself that I will never betray myself again. Without a map in hand, I drew out circles and lines with a stick in hand. A map to what though? That is a question I have carried on my back since this journey of aimless quiet wondering began. At the time I never really understood why I said that to myself. As I accumulate years of life, I believe now that it was a feeling of needing to nurture myself and be who I needed to be. I told myself that if I erased everything I ever believed and jot everything down from memory, I'd find who I am. Whether it was through words or pictures, I knew that the answer was cast away by spells in there. I hold that promise like a devotional scapular. In the toughest moments of my life, I've never been alone because of self-efficacy. 

When I found running, I took an interest in the connection movement had on my way of thinking. Spending time alone running felt much more constructive than spending time alone in my study. When I looked down at the sweat on my forearms after my runs I remember thinking every blue feeling has left me for a brief moment. It is possible not to feel angst consume every single moment of my life. If melancholy is a binary variable, then I shall find every possible function for the value to equal 0. 

'

This weekend I showed up to my first battle with the marathon. I raised myself as a runner under the Frankenstein methods. A mad scientific mariachi of sorts. With songs of pain and love in my heart and machine learning algorithms in my head, I walked up to the starting line with full-confidence in my ability to strike this motherfucker on my first lunge. In González-Iñárritu's Amores Perros, there is a scene where Susana tells Octavio at his brother's funeral, "Si quieres hacer reír a Dios, cuéntale tus planes." Which translates to, "If you want to make God laugh, tell him/her your plans."  

My marathon debut turned out to be a diagram of pulled guts. All signs seemed to indicate me coming in around 2:53:00. Of all days, my debut turned out to have quite a massive variance. I reached the finish line completely decayed in 4:00:53. A historic version of me listening to Nirvana would've been devastated at this experience. But I'm in a different realm of wizardry now. For several years, I woke up thinking how I was going to make a strong impression in the marathon, and I laid my head down at night content with the day's training. Everything I cultivated behind my eyes turned out to be a sharp contrast in the real world. And that's okay. I have embraced imperfection through my training. Specifically, through art. We won't get too deep into the details of God, but if there is one laughing at me, I laugh with you. I trust that I will arise from these spilled guts. If I have to paint smiley faces on them with my black sharpie, I shall. 

My love for running has not changed a bit. I tripped on the very first step due to circumstances out of my control. I will use my imagination to see through this mystery. I will never delude myself. Never. 

Perseverance is a lunatic trait, 

Erik

I'm Wondering What Made Malcolm Smile

Hear ye, hear ye!

Today is a celebration of turning 28 in chronological years. This annual observance declares me to run and feel all of what today is about. A love for myself and this sport that gives me infinite safety to explore myself each day. 

A few days ago I PRed at the Hot Chocolate 15k under viscous weather conditions. 20 mph headwinds with 30 mph wind gusts circulating madness for 57 minutes and 24 seconds. For the first time since spring of 2014, I exhaled calmly from start to finish. I no longer lament. As a data enthusiast, I consider all directly observed and latent variables in every run. All sources seem to indicate an S-Class forecast. Now is the time to embrace all of what seemed insignificant. 

Themes over the years:

2019: Develop a healthy relationship with running again

2020: Examine strengths and weaknesses

2021: Explore and solidify your relationship with running by bringing your non-running self into training

2022: ?

Fellow lurkers, I cannot mold a summary of what hasn't happened yet. I therefore leave this year blank and let time and memories write it out for me when due. I trust that I will find the urge to pick up a pen or caress this new beautiful mechanical keyboard of mine when the meeting place is set. 

I shall die under the winter sun with love, 

Erik

Y Regresa El Rico Movimiento

I braved one of the most loaded training of my life last week. 71 miles according to my tally. I've not seen any bored demons peeking out from the horizon. I believe they must be scared of the cumbias I play for them every morning. Or I must have these currents well predicted? Who knows? All I know is that I'm up on my two feet right mapping out time to the guacharaca sounds of La Furia Urbana. 

The course is still strong for my seppuku at the end of winter. I'm enjoying the sea of self in front of me. Putting down the sails when necessary, but never afraid to conversate with Huracan. I've always believed in my ability to navigate wavering waters because I too waver with the funk. My hands aren't wet this time. I calmly await for you in my cabin, mujer marathon. 

Wepa wepa,

Erik 

Soon 28

Winter '22