Mud

Here we are, arrived at the present and I am about to introduce my coach, who can be described only as a gift.  For me to write anything at all would be to write too much, and not enough.  Muddy is and will be my coach for the rest of my life.

Just like all my coaches so far, for Muddy this is about way more than triathlon, but don't let that fool you.  We're on a mission.  Some call it old school, but really that's just more talk.  Forget the talk.

Naming it a "mission" doesn't do justice either.  Calling it anything at all is just to small.  We're just here, doing our thing.

For me to use words to describe, only confines it to a page.  Words turn to an interpretation, then back again to a thought, then a feeling, and that's what this is all about. It's a feeling.

Slow down right now and you'll feel it too.  Pause for 60 seconds.  Really pause.  Put it all on pause and you'll find something.  It's more than emotion, more than intuition, more than a sense.  It's just there.

That's what it is with Muddy.  It's more than words, more than thoughts, more than feelings, more than a mission.

As for stories go, well, there are lots, most of which need to be shared in person.  I can however, share with you the story of how we met.

I was racing. Robyn was supporting.  Robyn met this guy out on the race course who seemed to be really cold.  His hood was up and he was on a mission.  Watching.

Robyn had a feeling.

"Great race, but you need to meet this guy.  I have his name.  We'll look him up when we get back home."

The rest is an in person story.

That's far more than enough talk for now.  Sitting across from me there's a bike that's asking to be ridden.

Thank you Muddy.