Lmst

Someday: My Calgary Flames Fan Journey https://www.rawchili.com/4331920/ #AboutMe #CalgaryFlames #CalgaryFlamesFans #CalgaryFlames #hockey #HockeyFans #HockeyLife #HowWeGotHere #MyJourney #MyStory #NHL #sports

https://www.lovenhl.com/1388647/ Someday: My Calgary Flames Fan Journey #AboutMe #CalgaryFlames #CalgaryFlamesFans #hockey #HockeyFans #HockeyLife #HowWeGotHere #MyJourney #MyStory #NHL #PacificDivision #sports #WesternConference

My first attempt at iOS app development

https://mgx.me/my-first-attempt-at-ios-app-development

#HackerNews #iOSDevelopment #AppDevelopment #FirstApp #MyJourney #TechCommunity

My yearly ritual! 👋 I'm bringing back this gem of a commercial where I, well, break some ice. It still cracks me up every time, and it's also a really cool way for me to look back and appreciate my journey, year by year. Hope you get a kick out of it too! #BlastFromThePast #MyJourney #LaughOutLoud

SIR’s CLAW 25 Travelogue: 16 April 2025

The journey to CLAW 25 begins by stumbling around the house at 3:30AM & making the first cuppa the day…The Pup & I are boarded; Vegas, here we come for a three-hour layover. Coffee is finally kicking in.

SMF 》LAS

There used to be a time when traveling by air was a chore, something akin to getting a teeth cleaning or sitting through a gender reveal party. A day of balled fists, jaw clenched, and B-grade, expensive food, travel was never an adventure & I’d wonder how those handsome businessmen with their phones and suitcases could do it all the time. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to appreciate the journey; even the preparation. Packing is now a ritual, a rite to begin something new, an escape from the day-to-day be it a weekend with my Daddy or a week-long excursion in Cleveland.

The ride to the first airport was smooth. Check-in & passing through the checkpoint were smooth as well. Grabbing coffee & chow for my Pup were smooth. There’s something to be said about scheduling & planning things in advance. Once we got to our first gate, I excused myself to don my Leather (vest, boots, belt, wristbands), feeling once more myself. I confidently marched my way through the airport even though it was 5:30AM.

SIR’s view enroute to Las Vegas; HE enjoys the window seat…Ingressing Las Vegas

Inbound for Vegas

LAS 》CLE

With a nearly three-hour layover, I decided to break out the laptop & do some work for BLUFSF. Namely setting posts up summarizing the April edition & announcing next month’s. Easy work but a great distraction from the airport hustle & bustle. Post were drafted, edited & scheduled to go live while we’re in the air.

Met a couple of fellow Leatherfolx to form a little Leather Contingent before boarding the flight. It’s nice to run into fellows. Next stop: Cleveland, OH.

CLEVELAND

We’re no longer in Kansas, Toto.

Last year, Cleveland had a friendlier vibe. This time around, things appear to have soured as we experienced no less than four unfriendly Lyft drivers. Each apparently having their own respective bad days.

The hotel is 20 minutes away from the conference center which is also 20 minutes way from the Leather Stallion. Every location is an island so folx will be forced to shuttle, rideshare, or rent a car. We’ve spent perhaps $125 on rideshares alone and CLAW hasn’t officially started. Ultimately, we decided we’d rent a car seeing as how the I-X is next to the airport.

Dinner was an exercise in acceptance and resignation. “The Bistro,” as it’s billed, is located in our hotel and provides casual American cuisine. It’s basic, it’ll do. At least it would’ve done had it been decent. The Pup and I spent $45 for lukewarm sandwiches (burger/chicken) and mediocre fries. The sandwiches were supposed to come with lettuce and tomato; however, that was just a little too crazy. So, what we got were bare proteins on greasy brioche buns. Not even a smattering of the promised garlic aioli. The Pup cleaned his plate while I left a hefty portion for Mr. Manners.

Now comes the part that might make folx uncomfortable but I experienced a couple of things that capped off a pretty disappointing day.

First, the Dickoff Party at the Leather Stallion. The ride from the hotel was too long, long enough to kill any energy left from the day. Upon arrival, it was clear the Pup and I were two cherries in an apple pie. Addtionally, I had no lighter for cigars and the Stallion didn’t carry matches or any ability to make fire at-will so we stood around. After a bit, I leaned over and whispered to the Pup, “I’m not feeling this.” He agreed and we left in the fourth Lyft of the day. At this point, it was around 8PM PST and we’d been up for nearly 15 hours. Rather than shoulder the weight of being one of the very few POCs in the party, it was time to call it and return to base. Surely, this would be capstone for a day of disappointment, right?

As it’s said, “But wait, there’s more!”

Growing up Indigenous, it’s nothing new to experience racism, veiled or overt. From being followed in off-reservation music stores by staff to hearing emphatic, “These fucking Indians should go back to the rez and stay there!”, being Other and set apart are par for the course. It’s as usual as breathing or watching the sunset; I’ve learned to recognize racism when it occurs.

So, my Pup and I were browsing a meager, overpriced “market” at the hotel at ~1:30 a.m. (Folx who know me know I’m almost always hungry, ready to encounter a surprise turkey dinner with all the fixins at any moment.) when the hotel worker walked in, looked at us, and asked, “What are YOU doing here?” No salutation, no professional friendly demeanor, just a question infused with hard intent.

You see, my Pup is Latinx, I’m Indigenous so we’re are completely POC and we know division when we sense it. This was division, as if we’d wandered out from the backwoods across the way looking for free food. True, we weren’t dressed for a white tie fish fry, it being one-fucking-thirty in the morning, but we’re were dressed. We’d seen non-POC buy from the market with no issues and that was only few minutes before we “invaded” the place.

We answered the man’s question, “We’re browsing…for food.”

“Oh…well, you can order food from the Denny’s down the street.”

Us: “…but we’re here now and hungry.”

“Here, I’ll give you a paper so you can order.”

Us: “…okay…”

We took the paper and returned to the room. Me giving a resounding, “What the fuck was that about?”, as the elevator doors closed. The Pup was silent and I had entered Hangry SIR territory.

Getting to the room, the discordant day finally hit me: The 3:30AM wake time, the air travel, the unfriendly Lyfters, the horrible dinner, and the Stallion party. This encounter topped the dirt cake and I’d had it.

The Pup looked on as I unloaded my frustration before I declared, “Fuck this. He can’t treat us like that. I’m going back down to say something because this has been one of the worst days so far.”

We headed back downstairs and approached the front desk. He stood there with a false courteous smile, “How can I help you?”

Me: “Are we allowed to shop here? Because you made it seem like we were not allowed to be in the market. I just need some clarification.”

He appeared taken aback yet unfazed responding with, “Oh, I’m sorry you got that impression because I didn’t mean that.”

Ahh, yes, the celebrity apology. Always a hit.

The Pup asked, “Is this place open 24/7?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, we’re going to buy something then.”

“Okay, sure.”

The selection was meager, an overprocessed food selection. I grabbed a ginger ale, chips, and beef jerky. The Pup paid in cash which sent the hotel guy into a huff. He owed us $0.02 in change and we watched him in an even huffier huff find two pennies. Sliding them over the counter, the Pup accepted them. He thanked us, I didn’t responded and we padded back to the room so I could devour the snackage.

To the privileged reader, there may appear to have to been nothing wrong with the exchange. However, for anyone who has experienced a lifetime of discrimination, the reality is quite different. That’s the benefit of privilege, you get smoother rides and aren’t hassled by hotel workers just for standing in a market. You can visit places without experiencing sideeye or outright disdain because you simply look different.

I experienced this growing up, I get it even now. I’ve felt it while I’ve been in Leather. It’s human nature to discriminate. So, how do handle this? Well, I enact a few lines of code from SirWolf.exe:

Walk with intent & quiet confidence: I know where I’ve been and I know where I’m going. Stay out of my fucking way. I won’t hurt you but I will sternly tell you to step off.
Treat the environment like a Leather bar: I’m here to take up my own fucking space. If you want to get my attention, get it. I don’t cruise, I don’t flirt, I here to learn, smoke, play, and maybe fuck but that doesn’t mean I want to do any of these things with you.
I’m comfortable being alone: While the Pup is doing his Puply duties, I’m on my own and I’m okay with that. At events like CLAW, I’ve learned how to be alone and not feel lonely. I don’t need company, sometimes I don’t want it. It depends on the moment I’m in. In this life, I’ve adapted to being a part from and am comfortable solo.
I welcome the brave ones: There are few folx who approach me even though the “Fuck Off” vibes are high. These folx I tend to welcome in conversation; interestingly, these folx often have actual things to talk about that are mostly worthwhile. I also commend the young man who is brave or foolhardy enough to approach SIR even after I’ve made it clear I’m not biting. A good boy might be rewarded. Maybe.

#CLAW #CLAW25 #CLAWChronicles #Cleveland #IAmSirAaronWolf #LeatherCommunity #LeatherEvents #LeatherPhotography #Leatherman #LGBTQ_ #MyJourney #Photography #SirAaronWolf #SirWolf #SirSStatus #TravelingLeatherman #Travels

At first, I was stunned as the numbers seemed too high. Is the cancer back I wondered. Then I did my research before this week's follow-up.
#cancer #cancersucks #tryingtosurvive #myjourney #healing #radiationtherapy #cancersurvivor #writerscommunity

https://rickollie.com/2025/01/12/understanding-psa-levels-13-months-post-radiation-therapy/

its funny how many accounts I have had in my time on the internet. I started in the late 80s as I was graduating out of high school. I really got going when I was on IRC (as GMACK) Then moved to different platforms as they came up each one monetizing the internet more and more leading up to the dotcom bubble exploding. I continued later Paltalk (as Big_Poppa_Ken) showing off my DJ skills. Meta, Google, Twitter/X, Bluesky, Mastodon Some I don't remember some Ieft alone. At this point I just want to find my tribe and be just there. #socialmedia #myjourney

“Ever wondered how a crazy idea, an out-of-control Ape Car, and a disastrously messy castle turned into my first video game? Follow my story—full of unlikely successes, inevitable failures, and plenty of irony. The journey has just begun… and it’s going to be wild! #GameDev #IndieGame #MyJourney”

https://www.arcadipanedanilo.it/2024/12/18/mazzareth-the-game-how-it-started/

12/ Final thought: Community and kindness can change lives. Never underestimate the power of support ❤️ #PowerOfCommunity #PayItForward

#MyJourney #NewHome #FromHomelessToHope

California Dreamin’ by The Mamas & The Papas

Released: December 1965

Album: If You Can Believe Your Eyes & Ears

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOok1WzZbOY

Access Sir Aaron Wolf’s Spotify playlist here.

“I’d be safe and warm
if I was in L.A.“

Throughout my childhood and when the funding allowed, the family would pile into my Dad’s pickup truck to traverse across Arizona, Nevada, and the Mojave Desert, making our way to Southern California. There we’d engage in the usual family outings at amusements parks, piers, and, of course, the beaches. It was during these trips that I would develop a deep love and respect for the ocean. So profound was this love that it would seep into my subconscious, my being soaking it up as a desert floor greedily absorbs the rain.

Coming from the Dine Reservation in New Mexico, I dreamed of seeing the ocean again, thinking about its sparkling expanse in the setting sun, the soothing shush of the waves on rock and sand, the smell of salt in the air. This was oceanside poetry punctuated with the sound of seagulls and beachgoers laughing, talking, living. If I’d had my way, I’d’ve spent the entire trip by the sea while the rest of the family went to Disneyland, Sea World, or whatever the itinerary was for that year. Give me just the ocean and I would have been the happiest boy on the West Coast.

California Dreamin’ by the Mamas & the Papas became one of my Californian anthems. Though it was originally released in the mid-1960s, its melancholy nostalgia appealed to me, a rez kid born in 1980, at a very deep level. Coming in at less than three minutes, California Dreamin’ summarized an unexplained longing I had for the West Coast. This longing became more evident especially during harsh New Mexican winters when the wind would blew its frigid breath across the cracked desert clay. Clear, winter mornings often meant bitter cold, dry air that felt like razors sliding across skin, scraping off layers to expose what lies beneath to the icy elements.

On those mornings, I’d long for the smell of palm trees and the sound of the beloved ocean, hoping that the next year would bless us with another long trek back to sunshine and sounds of the sea.

#IAmSirAaronWolf #Music #MyJourney #SirAaronWolf #TimeToClassUpThisJoint

California Dreamin’ by The Mamas & The Papas

Released: December 1965

Album: If You Can Believe Your Eyes & Ears

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KOok1WzZbOY

Access Sir Aaron Wolf’s Spotify playlist here.

“I’d be safe and warm
if I was in L.A.“

On those mornings, I’d long for the smell of palm trees and the sound of the beloved ocean, hoping that the next year would bless us with another long trek back to sunshine and sounds of the sea.

#IAmSirAaronWolf #Music #MyJourney #SirAaronWolf #TimeToClassUpThisJoint

An introvert as a consultant and trainer? Yes, it's possible.

Years ago, I would have done anything to avoid being in front of any group of people.

Sure, talking to friends always worked. Even getting on stage and playing music with others somehow worked. And I've always enjoyed supporting others.

But speaking in front of a bunch of people?

I was fascinated by software development and then software architecture.

🧵👇 #Consulting #Training #Introvert #MyJourney

Memories of Lisbon, where on my last day of this trip despite a sprained ankle I hobbled through Barrio Alto to explore and enjoy the beautiful views.

#lisbon #lisbonlovers #lisbona #lisbonportugal #lisbonne #lisbona #portugal #travel_deeper #traveldestination #europe #europa #bairroalto #reis #reisen #voyage #explore #scenic #exploreportugal #seemore #travelphotography #travels #myjourney #photos #photography

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3psU7YtFWp/?igsh=MW11NTU0MjhhbDJ6Ng==

The Bad Thing 50K – Race Recap – Racing Smarter, Not Harder

I almost quit running altogether.

From 2009 to 2018, I did well in school. But I struggled to be smart when it came to running. After hitting the final straw with a torn hamstring in 2018, I took four years to fall back in love with the sport. Normally love like this would be doomed to fail and fall back into the same traps, especially since I only fell back in love as a coping mechanism.

Just a little over a year ago, I left a job I loved for greater money and career progression. For some reason, I never anticipated how much of my identity, community and love for my own self had been built around that job. So when I left, the decision naturally devastated me, and my two best friends.

About a month into the devastation, we tried to have brunch together. It went horribly wrong. Later that day I tried to find something in life that I could cling onto and remembered a dream I had in high school of becoming an ultra runner.

After a quick google search, the first race to pop up was The Bad Thing 50k, which I recognized from a book I had in high school. I decided to give myself a full year to train for the event and make sure I was ready to run the obscene distance.

Naturally, love like that would be doomed to fail and fall back into the same trap. I went too hard, too fast, without any knowledge of fuelling whatsoever, and made the Plantar Fasciitis I already had at that point explode. While cycling on the sidelines of the sport, I discovered the Golden Trail World Series and realized that ‘Trail Running’ was a thing.

It sounded perfect for me. It also sounded like what I had already done my entire running career, having grown up next to Medway Valley in London.

I started to research more and more, and The Bad Thing fell slightly off my radar as I devised my plan to get back healthy and start racing.

In my first year of competitive ultramarathon/trail running, I wanted to run the most competitive trail races in Ontario.

When devising my 2023 scheme, The Bad Thing 50k, being so late in the year, felt like somewhat of an afterthought. Sulphur Springs, being the most competitive and professionalized would be my ‘A’ race. Falling Water, being the most adjacent to my own strengths of downhill and technical trail running, would be my ‘B’ race. Tally in the Valley 6-hour, being a unique format, would be something fun I tacked into the mix. Notice anything missing? The Bad Thing remained an afterthought.

But after Sulphur Springs, it only took a few conversations with my coach Brett Hornig to forego Tally in the Valley and sign up for The Bad Thing later in the year instead, ensuring I’d have more time to focus on running my best race at Falling Water. Leading into August, everything played out as planned.

Fast forward to the months leading up to The Bad Thing, and I had a few things on my mind. Times were historically slower. Matt Farquharson had run the two fastest times (both in the 4h16-4h20 range). Together (for a few seconds), we ran 3h46 at Sulphur Springs. So something wasn’t quite aligning.

Seeing the elevation profile and the amount of road time, I wasn’t sure why times were historically slower. Was it the early start with the headlamp? Did they make you come to a complete stop at aid stations to mark your bib number? Was the trail really that ‘Bad’? I wasn’t sure, but I thought a 4-hour finish and course record could be within reach.

At the same time, I knew that I ran so hard at Falling Water (and Sulphur Springs) that my legs eventually exploded and I couldn’t really walk after either race. I knew that I had missed a few key runs in The Bad Thing block with illness, that the old hamstring hadn’t been particularly happy, and my abductor on the other side constantly knocked on the door to try and join the party.

A smarter race strategy I thought, would be to hold back a bit in the first 30k, stay strong but slower on the technical bit from 30-40k, and then hammer the final 10k on the roads. To some extent, that’s exactly what I did.

A group of us started at the front around 4:40/km pace, keeping consistent with slightly above what I intended to average. Eventually Matt Suda and I peeled away. I told him I’d take the lead when we hit the trail, using the excuse that I had the brighter headlamp.

Feeling comfortable, I got lost for the first time, thinking that a pink flag was pointing me to the left rather than the right. I quickly realized my mistake and turned back. At that time, Matt passed me. But thinking myself to be some trail technicality wizard, I hadn’t anticipated that the gap I put on Matt might have only been a few seconds. So when we hit the road, I started to stress that Matt had actually gone the wrong way himself and cut off some of the course.

It didn’t take long for me to catch up to him when we hit the next section of trail, and I told him to stay confident and politely asked that he let me by (I knew it was narrow for the next 2k or so and that I wouldn’t be able to politely pass him). He politely obliged, and I immediately wiped out on a bridge. It had been raining (possibly snowing?) for the whole race…and the two weeks leading up to the event. The conditions weren’t amazing. Not muddy. The leaves covered all that up. But the tight turns and excessive stairs were slippery, and the bridges were basically un-runnable.

Again, the worse the conditions the better for me. So I felt confident I could make a nice gap on Matt after picking myself back up from the embarrassment.

Then Matt did something I didn’t quite expect.

When we hit a flat section of the trail, he caught back up and put on a surge. He was breathing heavily so I could tell he didn’t want to overtake, but just hang on. I responded by comfortably putting on the fastest kilometre of my entire day, before easing into The Bad Thing Hill. At the top, I had to wait a bit for the bracelet and for them to take down my bib number. Maybe that perturbed me a bit and I sent it back down in what Strava thinks is the second fastest descent ever (oops).

The next bit was technical and I knew I could continue to increase my gap. But at the same time, the leaves entirely covered the trail, and the amount of white blazes and pink flags didn’t make up for that from a navigation perspective. That, combined with Matt’s flat speed, allowed him to catch back up again.

“I was just thinking of you.” I said, before we hit another technical section and I again made a little separation. The cat and mouse game continued for a while until we hit the next flat section. At that point he wasn’t breathing as heavily as before.

“Do you want to go, or stay?” I asked, thinking of Elhousine Elazzaoui from the Golden Trail circuit, who always clings onto second and stays there with the lead runner.
“I’m comfortable staying here.” He said, referring to the pace/effort. I said the same. Psychologically, I could tell that gave him the confidence to make his first big move of the day. We hit the roads at Ben Miller Inn and he took the lead for the second time in the race.

I checked the watch to see that I had averaged 4:58/km across the first 25km, and was very much still on course-record pace. Meanwhile, Matt opened about thirty-seconds on me on the road, until the 100m of downhill stairs at the start of the next trail section allowed me to reduce the gap entirely. But that didn’t entirely matter, because we had reached another impasse – and one where I could not pass.

“This is going to get very interesting if you keep making moves like that on the road.” I said, before we mused about the flatness of London’s trails. Moments later, he took us 5-metres off trail, and I capitalized on the moment to pass him. At that point, I’m fairly positive that he took a break to use the washroom. I knew I was fine, and I knew that I could make enough of a gap that I likely wouldn’t see him again.

It was a dangerous decision. For all the back and forth, I likely would have chilled even more in the first half, had I not had him pushing me. So making a gap would be risky, as it would mean I’d have no one pushing me on the trails until I gave him the chance of catching back up on the road for the final 10k.

Coming so close to the aid station, it felt like the right call. AND THEN they didn’t have anything with electrolytes. Luckily, thanks to some smarts from Brett, I had a final bottle of just powder that I could fill up with water, plus two XACT Nutrition Bars and two gels (although I could only locate one!). I knew I’d be fine for the next 10k, but worried I didn’t have enough for the final 10k. I’d been doing close to 80-90g of carbohydrates per hour at the time, and knew that would tail off in the final 10k when I needed it most.

I downed some coca-cola and orange crush for the first time since childhood and made my way into the most technical bit of the course. I also figured out how to go to the washroom without slowing down, which felt like the coolest accomplishment of the day.

Since working with Brett, I’ve made an active effort to focus on the long-term rather than the short-term, and be smarter about every aspect of the sport. At Sulphur Springs, I probably would have been willing to die out there. I simply never stopped pressing on the gas.

But on this particular day, somewhere along the way, I got comfortable. I chilled out thinking I had executed everything I wanted to, and was going to get that course record. I think this is where I took it too slow, staying safe on the bits that were dangerous, hiking more of the uphills than I needed to, and taking some extra time to fuel with oranges and bananas at the 40k aid station. I had an extra gel somewhere in my pack, but I couldn’t remember where. In my deprived state of mind, I didn’t think to rid myself all of the garbage to find it.

I was too focused on what the feelings were going to be like at the end of the race and long afterward, and not focused enough on how much I actually had left in me to push. And even though it was only a few seconds here and there, I wasn’t stopping for the right things (like to find that gel rather than to eat an orange).

The 25k runners started to fuel me on, which provided a nice boost until I hit the road and prepared to hammer.

But then my heart rate immediately got high at the increased pace/effort, and I worried that I wouldn’t sustain that pace without enough carbohydrates. So I stayed comfortable until I picked up a final gel at a surprise aid station at 45k. At that point, I wanted to hammer it to the line, but wasn’t fully confident that I only had 5k to go. In my mind and the data I’d seen, the race would be closer to 52k, and the record would still be attainable (notoriously not great at math).

From 45k to 52k, I fought a battle in my mind of not wanting my hamstrings to blow up, but also wanting to lay down the hammer like my university cross-country days. I wanted to try using the washroom again without slowing down, but I also wanted to speed up faster than the last time I figured it out. I wanted to break the course record, but also wanted to walk after the race this time.

Safe to say, I had a lot of conflicting thoughts in my mind, and instead of hammering, I cruised at a pace that I probably could have held onto for several more kilometres.

That only solidified what I had been heading toward, a 52k day where I wouldn’t break Matt’s record (although we had different starting locations and I ran faster by pace, I think our days are really comparable.)

By the time I hit the river at 50k, the course record had gone. The shock of the knee-deep cold water caused my legs to buckle to a halt and the first hamstring cramps of the day. So by the time I escaped the shackles of the river, I cruised to the finish in a fashion I can’t really remember ever doing. I don’t know why, but I’ve always given an all-out effort to the line of any race I’ve ever done. Even at Falling Water, knowing I was going to finish second, I murdered myself with a 3:20/km finish – a pace I didn’t even know I had in me for flat workouts.

This time, I simply clapped for the volunteers and spectators all the way across the Halloween decorations until the line.

It resulted in a 4-hour-22-minute finish – what I amount to be the third fastest time ever (excluding the 2020 COVID year which was a significantly different course). I felt happy enough that according to our watches and Strava data, that I had run faster by pace than Matt’s two course-record times. But I still felt like I could have given more if I really wanted to break the time. Maybe I got too complacent in the second-half about how smart I had been up to that point and chilled too much. Maybe I would have benefited from one other runner to push me more in the second-half (either in front or behind).

Either way, I walked away happy with the effort, but slightly disappointed with the time, even though I won and had nothing to be truly upset about. Sometimes racing smarter isn’t always racing harder, and that will be an important lesson ahead of a big 2024!

It’s been a cool first year in the sport and I’ve learned so much that continues to set me up for long-term success. Now I just need to figure out when I can make risks in these events and when it’s safe to focus on the short-term as opposed to the long-term. This sets up an exciting 2024, where I’ll compete in my first international race since university cross country. I’m coming for you, Gorge.

Thank you again to Brett Hornig and XACT Nutrition for the support leading into this event. Thanks also to Race Huron and Jeremiah, for a really cool community feel to the event and making this day happen! & of course to Matt Suda for the push in the first half. I will be back some time in the future at the very least for the 25k, hunting down John’s new record instead.

Thanks for reading & see you soon!

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Merging repetition & race-practice together

There’s often a conflict between the old-school coaches who design “drills” focused on repetition, and the new-school coaches who provide actual education toward what players will encounter in a game. But in reality, the two can easily be merged together. You see, game-realistic activities around a specific session topic naturally allow for repetition toward the patterns our players will encounter in the game. In this coaching newsletter, I use my personal experiences as a part-time professional athlete in the sport of trail running to detail how game-realism and repetition can be easily combined together.

Next weekend, I will compete in my final 50k ultra/trail race of the year. The race is literally called “The Bad Thing 50K”, and as the name suggests, it’s pretty bad…ass. The start of the race takes place in the early morning darkness, and it’s widely believed that the race is yet to be fully mastered by an elite athlete (no one has ever run under 4 hours). With my current level of fitness, there’s no reason why I can’t be the first. BUT, in order to do so, I’ve had to prepare to the fullest extent – and not just by running far distances or running fast workouts.

In order to be fully prepared for the demands of my race and make decisions on the day more automatic, I have maximized my time on my race course practicing all five corners: Technical (e.g. where to plant my feet on technical sections), physical (e.g. biomechanics of running uphill/downhill), psychological (how I will cope when things go wrong) and tactical (where to push and where to hold back). The social elements have come with conversations between myself and my coach, ensuring that relationship is maintained alongside a love for the sport. This is what I’ve done for each of my races this year: Around The Bay, Sulphur Springs, & Falling Water.

Tomorrow, I will wake up at the same time I would on race day, wear the same gear, eat the same thing I would on race day, travel to the course, and practice running on a difficult section of the course in the dark with a headlamp (just like on race day). This is my game-realistic training, and I’ve allowed for plenty of repetition surrounding the exact five corners I’ll experience on the day.

These are the environments we need to set up for our athletes.

Repetition is essential. Think about what your athletes actually need to develop repetition around within your session topic. Do they need to develop repetition around a passing technique if your session topic is 1v1 defending? Is that restriction actually helping your session topic come to life – or is it limiting your athletes?

Yes, it’s impossible to always work on all five corners at once. That’s why even in endurance sports, different sessions throughout the week are focused on different stimuli. I might focus more on technical terrain one day, and more on top-end speed another day. Either way, the training is meant to be game-realistic and guided toward what I’m meant to accomplish on race day.

If I didn’t have access to my race course, I would train on terrain as similar as possible. I would find a similar elevation profile on long run days. I would still practice all the other elements (fuelling, pacing, etc.). I would replicate as many of the elements as I could, recognizing that it won’t be 100% the same.

The more race-specific we can make our training, the better. I’m still supplementing my training with mobility, strength work, form drills and a multitude of other aspects that might not be considered “game-realistic” or “race-specific”. Those little things add up over time to make race day mechanics easier. But they’re ultimately only supplemental aspects to the art.

If I only had 30 minutes to prepare for my next race, what would I do? If I only had 30 minutes to help an U8 soccer team nail a specific session topic in preparation for their next game, where would I spend my time?

Game-realistic training and repetition can be combined together. The best way to do so is by creating game-realistic activities that allow for repetition within your session topic, and include all the elements of your sport (not just the five corners). For invasion sports, that’s ball, opposition, teammates and space. Targets, movement and direction will all enhance game-realism too.

The more that the actual rules of the game apply, the better. So if you’re going to introduce a different method of scoring or a different method of the restart before you get into a game where all the rules of the game apply, it needs to bring out your session topic. Otherwise, you might be limiting the ability of your athletes to actually recognize optimal decision making on their game day (or race day).

Think about this and don’t get caught up in the traps of what your coaches did growing up. Try to incorporate all five corners into your training, and focus on making your training as game-realistic as possible.

Thanks for reading and see you soon!

Thanks for reading & see you soon!

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#CoachingPhilosophies #FiveCornerModel #GameRealisticTraining #MyJourney #RaceSpecificTraining #Repetition #Running #TrainingTheory #UltraRunning

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