That's me at the end of Tough Guy, looking about thirty years older than my actual age and very beaten down. There are other, better images, where I look rather dashing and much less derelict, but I can only insert a 2 MB file onto this site, so that's as good as I got. Appalling image, isn't it? That race just reduces you to rubble in both body and soul.

I mention all this because I am having my annual middle-of-track-season come to Jesus meeting with my fitness. A pattern descends up me each year at this time, where I'm so consumed with all the minutiae of coaching, the bureaucracy of dealing with administrative types who don't know what it's like to venture into the arena, doing all my own writing, and my desperate desire to feed my anxiety with food and adults beverages. In short, the way I look in that post-Tough Guy photo is positively svelte with how I look right now. With a new book coming out in six weeks, and the potential for publicity moments, I am descending into vanity and going into training so that I might look just a tad more fit (I was going to say "scoche" but I don't know if that's the proper spelling. A little help? I should just email Noonan for the answer).

So, starting yesterday, I'm training for the new book as if I were training for Tough Guy (no, wait, I didn't train for Tough Guy, let's make it the Raid Gauloises instead). My trainer is a guy named Terry Sedgewick. His company is Train-X, and he operates an athlete-intensive gym in nearby Lake Forest. It is an exciting room in which to get your behind kicked, sometimes filled with college and professional athletes getting in shape for their seasons; high school athletes adding muscle and speed; and regular folks like me who want to push that little extra bit. Terry is a former professional duathlete and rugby player, so it's not like he doesn't know what he's talking about. I have long been a fan of workouts that make you better through good, old fashioned suffering, but Terry's training system breaks me down so thoroughly that I find myself wanting to call a halt halfway through the proceedings. I also notice that he's nicer to the housewives than to me, and it's worth noting that Terry's only real rules are that whining is not allowed, and that all vomiting must take place in the bushes out front.

Gotta love that.

I find it appropriate that I'm training for The Training Ground. It feels good to have a goal, even if it's a little vanity oriented. Terry makes me accountable, because he's the kind of guy who expects results and wants me to expect them too. These are the same things I expect from my runners, and I find it rather motivating to have someone paying attention when I want to slack off, even if he won't let me throw up inside the gym.

Keep pushing... always.

Random Aside: I can't remember a time when St. Patrick's Day and Good Friday both fell in the same week. An unusual pairing.

Happy Easter.

Happy St. Paddy's Day. Someone told me there's been a few comments on the site. Maybe I should have a look... Hang on. Give me a minute.

OK. I'm back. Interesting. It seems that I've entered a remotely Eliot Spitzer level of revilement. Yes, it's cool in its own odd little way, but some of you need to get an actual life apart from the internet, complete with real friends and actual personal dialogue. From the looks of things you spend far too much fretting about my site and the fate of a cyclist who wouldn't know you if you kissed him on the lips. On the other hand, Luc the Good Egg is delighted with this plethora of traffic. For his sake, keep the abuse coming.

More here on the doping debate and the psychological forces behind use and abuse. Makes for compelling reading. Feel free to spend the buik of your personal time debating who tipped me off to its whereabouts.

Onward. I think that the quiet comeback story of this year has been the resurgence of Bode Miller. His World Cup overall title this year was surprising, and must have been particularly satisfying to him after being written off by the mainstream press. He's got that tall poppy vibe about him, and lots of people tried to knock him back to earth after his failures in Turin. But Bode's a good example of what can be accomplished with focus, discipline, and a ton of natural talent. Good for him, and for Lindsey Vonn.

Shifting gears here, I've been getting a ton of press releases for this upcoming Ironman China. I was kind of thinking about going if they threw me a plane ticket, but that was just a passing thought. I like the concept of going to China right now rather than the actual reality of what it will be like to be in China. The times I've been there have always left me with the sense that I wanted to flee the mainland for Hong Kong. Not sure why. Something about China just doesn't do it for me. Everyone's got a place in  the world where they go and think it's the last best place on earth. For some folks, that's China. Not for me. One time I almost got arrested in Tienanmen Square during a 6 a.m. run, but that's another story for another day.

Track team did well over the weekend. My high jumper went 7'0", which was an amazing thing to witness. He cleared it on the third attempt, which is when you kind of start thinking that maybe things weren't meant to be. There was a sense of relief on his face, as if he'd finally gotten that monkey off his back. Good for him.

My new book comes out in two months. The Training Ground has been three years in the making, and if you've been reading this space long enough you'll know that it drove me completely batty as I wrote it, trying to weave in all the various stories and history without getting bogged down in petty details and keeping the story flowing. You be the judge. It's the story of those great Civil War generals back when they were new lieutenants during the Mexican War -- sort of a Young Guns take on their lives. It's a tale of potential lost and potential realized, which seems to be a common theme in my work.

Aloha to Luc the Good Egg, who is likely already down at Muldoon's, chanting some Dropkick Murphy's ditty and knocking back a pint of Guinness chased by a shot of Jameson's (the Catholic whiskey) as he tabulates the ongoing traffic jam to Whew!

Keep pushing... always.

Is it just me, or does anyone else think that "Chris" is actually Greg LeMond?

Onward. OK. Cool moment of the week. At last Saturday's Irvine Invitational one of my runners was shoved from behind at the start of the girls 800. She fell hard, skinning her forearms and thighs and knees and palms. It was not pretty, and the sort of fall that made an entire stadium groan in sympathy.

So they call the runners back for a restart. Video shows fellow competitors gaping in horror at the new wounds on my runner (whom I have since nicknamed Skid). She goes out fast, falls behind on the second lap, and then kicks hard to win at the line, breaking the school record by five seconds in the process.

You had to be there. It was amazing.

My high jumper went 6'10", which was also amazing.

If you notice a little more pep in my approach to coaching track and field, it's because things are starting to assume some semblance of order. The preseason bureaucracy is almost done and we've got a few races under our belts. The "herding cats" feeling is dissipating, replaced by the palpable feeling that we're a team. Sprinters and distance runners are actually starting to have polite conversations, and my annual feeling that I will never again coach a track team is slowly passing.

Coaching a track team is, in many way, like life. In a strange sort of way, the cognitive dissonance of coaching a team, writing a new book, and just basically managing my time as the countdown to the start of filming my movie has begun, has had a focusing effect. These are good problems to have, these feelings of being overbusy and overwhelmed. I love that it's all starting to build a critical mass of its own. I collapse into my buster chair at the end of every day (and feel strangely empty because there's little on TV besides Law and Order, and a somewhat unfulfilling Survivor), but this daily task of completing tasks is the sort of good busy-ness that I enjoy very much. Unlike a track team, there is no championships or medals (ok, maybe money), but there is a feeling of overall calm when a goal is attained or a longterm task is completed.

So if this space has been sporadic and quiet lately, it's because I've been herding cats. But I think I'm getting the hang of it, and, like my runner picking herself up off the track and pushing herself to victory, I am feeling stronger and more battle-tested for the challenge.

News that John Wooden collapsed in his home the other day and lay on the floor for seven hours before being discovered should not be as surprising as it is, particularly since falls by the elderly who live alone can be frequent and sometimes fatal. But there are some people who you seem to think will live forever (my own parents, for instance), despite the shocking statistic that 100% of people currently alive will someday be dead.  No snarky emails about everlasting life through faith, mystics, or the ancient Egyptian belief in the afterworld. You know what I mean.

Wooden was a basketball coach, and though he seems like a sedate old man now, there are plenty of pictures of him screaming at players or gesturing frantically. THis makes me feel good with my own anger issues. This touch of humanity also helps me identify more strongly with Wooden's vaunted Pyramid of Success.

You have probably been living on Anguilla for the last four decades if you have not seen reference to the Pyramid. Simply, Wooden starts with core traits such as Industriousness, Friendship, Loyalty, Cooperaton, and Enthusiasm. He then builds upward to through Initiative, Sincerity, Skill, Team Spirit, Poise, and Competitive Greatness to Faith and Patience, which reside atop the pointy peak of the Pyramid. When laid out on a page, Wooden's belief that "Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming."

Really, how cool is that? Wordy, yes. But the sort of wholistic approach to life-long success and happiness that makes Keep Pushing seem a touch pithy. I wish Coach Wooden well, and hope that he heals nicely.

Onward. "Bitch is the new Black." Did anyone see Saturday Nigh Live last week? Amazing rant by Tina Fey. I actually think it tipped a few voters away from Obama toward Hillary. Honestly, I think both would make fine presidents. I even think McCain would make a fine president, and still believe that the lone unbeatable ticket is McCain/Clinton. But what I find disconcerting is that: a) a great many voters are basing their opinions on Oprah's endorsement, rather than just making up their own damned minds through reading and gut instinct; and, b) so many people are pulling for Hillary to pull out of the race. It doesn't take raging feminist to realize that she's not Ralph Nader, a fringe candidate sabotaging the party for the sake of ego gratification. And it also seems that Hillary's desire to fight all the way to the convention, which has been a staple of the two-party system for as long as America has had such a beast, speaks to that great part of the American psyche that abhors a quitter. So why are people asking her to pull out? The woman just won Texas and Ohio! Or, more to my point, why is a woman supposed to back down but a man in the same position would be praised for his grit and determination?

Finally, the Tour de France starts four months from tomorrow.

Keep pushing... always.

Bruce Springsteen is out for another lap around the country on his Radio Nowhere Tour. He'll be in my backyard a month from now for two shows, so I find myself sifting and sorting through my schedule, making sure absolutely nothing gets in the way...

Hang on. Just got a call from my uniform vendor. Tomorrow's the first meet and the uniforms haven't arrived yet. Now the vendor is telling me that it's going to be tight. Life always works out that way, doesn't it? No matter how far out you plan, things always come down to the last minute. At least they do for me. Ah, well. Life is either a great adventure or nothing at all, and in the great scheme of things, sweating the uniform shipment does me no good. Better to have faith that it will arrive than to get stressed out about something beyond my control.

Listen to me, getting all zen. I think that counts as some sort of personal growth. Normally I'm sweating things  at 3 a.m., lying in bed and running numbers in my head. Sometimes it's workouts, sometimes it's bills, and sometimes it's just nothing at all, me lying awake and convincing myself that there is really nothing to worry about. My wife thinks I'm addicted to worry, because I run from one crisis to another the way some people run for a bus stop on a rainy day. Maybe that's the case. I don't know. I DO know that I have a fondness for being in places that make me uncomfortable, whether it's a long mountain run on a blazing hot afternoon or just pushing myself to find a balance between all my disparate interests. There are tangential things to every new endeavour, little bits and pieces of hard reality or declaiming voices that vex the soul. But I am finding that the secret, as I plan to tell my son in a few months when he departs for college, is a sort of philosophical conundrum: Pay attention to detail, but don't sweat the small stuff.

But this personal growth is brand new, as in ten minutes ago. My Friday began with emails at 3:15 a.m. and entails a list of to-do's that runs longer than my journal has room on the page. Sweating the details but not sweating the small stuff. It's a process, man. It's a process.

So I am not sweating the uniform vendor, knowing that I can always throw last season's uniforms on the team if it comes right down to it. And I will not worry whether or not the official starter and timer will show up on time for my invitational tomorrow, or how I will find someone to manage the pole vault at this late date. Instead I will think of the things and places where I am most content -- my "Happy Place" in the land of Happy Gilmore. These places are that epic ride, that long run on a pitch perfect trail, a Springsteen concert anywhere in the world.

This is my way of heeding the admonitions of the Apostle Paul, and HST, too, who once wrote (in a koan/quote that I liked for decades, but never really understood until just this year)" "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."

Dig it.

Keep pushing... always.

So last year my track team sponsored an invitational. It was a comfortably small affair, perfect for a start-up year. I think that maybe 200 athletes or so competed. So when it came time for this year's race, I was hoping we could bump the numbers up. As of Friday, there were still just a few hundred athletes registered, with midnight last night being the deadline for all entries. Well, sometime after the end of the Academy Awards, a lot of coaches got busy entering their teams. I woke up this morning to find that the numbers now stand at around a thousand.

Should make for an interesting week.

Onward. Talking with some folks this morning about the Tour of California, and the general feeling is that it's a top notch race that needs to go big time if it's to be taken seriously. This would mean moving it to May or June, which creates a conflict with the Giro and Dauphine', but would also mean the race could be three weeks and involve the Sierras. Can you imagine a Tour of California that climbs through Yosemite and finishes a stage in Mammoth or Death Valley? That would be amazing. Between the coastal mountains and the Sierra, you have a situation very much like the Pyrenees/Alps duo at the Tour de France. Makes for some potent competition.

Word is that next year's Tour of California features three days in and around the San Diego area, with a crit through the Gaslamp District and a climb of Mt. Palomar.

On the media front, VeloNews has been folded into the Competitor/Triathlete/Elite Racing purchase by that east coast venture capital group. I'm still waiting to see how this is all going to play out, but I think there needs to be a television component in there to maximize the media aspect. One thing is for sure, is that this appears to be equal parts content and registration driven. Sometimes it's hard to get the content front and center, because registration pays the bills. As a content guy, that frustrates me, if only because you shouldn't have to hunt and peck through a site to find the meat of a story, such as daily Tour de France coverage. On the other hand, realpolitik mandates that creativity takes a back seat to dollars.

Just riffing here... hope you're all having a great Monday. And congrats to Lindsay Vonn for her World title. Now Bode just needs to get it done.

Keep pushing... always.

My new book, The Training Ground, is due in stores May 14. Pre-order your copy today!

Today's stage of the Tour of California is perhaps one of the most scenic and famous in the state. The route south along Highway 1 so close to the Pacific that whenever I drive it in a car I'm afraid to take my eyes off the road for fear of launching over the cliffs into the drink. It is a startling and staggering stretch of road, with twists and turns and climbs and the sort of beauty that makes an ideal backdrop for a bike race. The Tour organizers have done themselves proud by making this happen.

Hmmm. Think about it: that's the major coastal artery, and even though it takes longer to drive than some of the freeways, it's an enormously popular way to go top to bottom in California. You'd have to pull a lot of strings to get that road closed, even if just for an afternoon.

I am somewhat wary to give too many props to Team Slipstream, simply because I feel they haven't really done anything yet this season (granted, the season is just beginning, but the press in the past few weeks has been the laudatory strokes one might expect toward Nobel Prize winners and those who've found a cure for polio, rather than an upstart bike team that is famous because they -- gasp! -- aim to ride clean, as if that weren't the point all along). However, Jonathan Vaughters seems to have assembled a crew that works well as a unit, and has shown a touch of selflessness in their approach to racing. Not sure how they'll fare by season's end, but they're shaping up to be much more than the American version of Credit Agricole.

Or, for that matter, Astana. A great deal of internet chatter is being devoted to getting them reinstated, if only for the sake of Levi Leipheimer. While I am glad that Levi is in the lead here (as a California resident, he seems to feel a proprietary sense that this race is the one event of the whole season that he feels is his to win, no matter what), and I am sad that Astana is being evicted from all ASO races (does this also include Paris-Dakar?) because they are the obvious choice to win the Tour de France in 2008, I wonder if his downtime between stages isn't better spent phoning the UCI's Pat McQuaid to tell him to keep his big mouth shut. UCI and ASO are both vying for financial and administrative control of cycling, and McQuaid's recent comments in support of Astana's reinstatement are like putting out the fire with gasoline. He's trying to sound like the voice of reason, knowing all too well that ASO couldn't give a rat's what he thinks. Leipheimer and Astana are caught in the midst of this political game. ASO may eventually relent, but not because of a letter-writing campaign by Levi's supporters.

Which leads to an obvious question: why is it that these people think Levi can win the Tour de France? He can't. He's not capable. He lacks the confidence to ride off the front and his team will support returning Tour champ Alberto Contador. Leipheimer is going to be a domestique, if he races there at all.

However.... Astana should be allowed to race. ASO's actions are intended to mollify sponsors who have had quite enough of doping in cycling, and just as clearly designed to help a French team win the Tour in 2008. The course has been set up to favor French-style racing (less emphasis on time trials and mountain stages, more on long team-centric stages). To me, that takes away from the beauty of the racing.

I would think you would want Astana there. If they're doping, you catch them in the act (like last year) and make an example of them. If they're clean, may the best man win. Who knows, it might even be Levi. After last year's Tour, I have to believe that anything can happen.

Free Astana.

Keep pushing... always.

"You either sleep when you come to Cairo, or you go see the Pyramids." My wife and I did a little of both. Arrived from Amsterdam at 2:15 yesterday, and then undertook a lovely late night drive through Cairo with a man driving a cab who, in reality, was not a cab driver. Finally arrived at our hotel a little before 5 a.m., slept until noon, and then decided to mosey over to the Pyramids.

Little known fact: The Pyramids close. In the interests of commerce (the evening light and sound show), and assisting the locals in their time worn habit of guiding tours in and around the Pyramids and Sphinx, the official gate closes at 4:30 or thereabouts. Which is how Callie and I found ourselves bribing a local guy to take us in the back way via horseback. This is not an illegal activity, as the hordes of tourists engaging in similar behavior would have you believe. But Kimo turned out to be a very capable guide and our horses were actual steeds, not the bony and flea-bitten tourist ponies found almost everywhere in the world. So it was that we rode through the desert sands, galloping our horses alongside the Pyramids on Valentine's Day. I don't think we've ever had a more memorable outing, and it's worth noting that my wife looks really hot galloping a fine mare.

I make light, but the Pyramids are humbling. You see them for so long, and in so many different timeless photos, that to actually see them up close is mind-boggling.

On to Luxor today, after a visit to the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. The drivers here are crazy and there isn't a car on the road without bumps and gashes. Not sure what Luxor will bring, but if only for the Pyramids and Museum, the trip so far has been a research bonanza.

Talk to you tomorrow.