Zen and the Art of Speedskating

Note from Andrew: this post was not written by me, it is part of a group email written by Canadian speedskater Meaghan Buisson. It is such a brilliant bit of writing, that with her permission, I have reposted it here. Since writing this, Megs has been injured and is rehabbing back from a herniated disk right now.

“No athlete survives in a vacuum.”

There isn’t a single aspect of my life in which I am not reminded of this fact; the sheer existence of my being relies heavily on all those around me. Thus to every gesture of support big or small, the professional cobbling that holds me together in a variety of ways, the random grocery cards, Air Miles, occasional (and much appreciated!) cheque, each and every phone call, word, or note of encouragement and (however remote) shoulder against which to stand, I am – forever - grateful.

Since return to Calgary, I’ve worn a bracelet. The beads mark countless individuals, coaches, my aunt, a diverse list including family members, medical professionals, sponsors, coaches, my dear friends scatted like dandelion seeds around the globe

Like most athletes, my strength is most sorely tested in moments of doubt, injury and despair.

A few days ago, we had a hard intervals program; 2-4-2-4-2-4-2-4-2 minute sustained sprints with 120” rest in between repetition. My training mates did it outdoors together as a group run. Courtesy of my back injuries however, I was indoors, solo on a stationary bike.

I love our Monday afternoon runs and longed to be outside in the gorgeous weather with my group, not moldering in damp darkness on a stationary bike older than I.

But just before I started the first repetition, I happened to glance at my wrist. When I saw my bracelet, I thought of everyone who steadfastly encourages, helps and believes in me. As my watch beeped, I thought “this one’s for you.”

I felt pretty good that sprint. So the next time, I broke it down further still; dedicating every ten seconds, in fact, through the remainder of every interval that followed, to a different one of you – the countless faces and names whose collective strength creates the backbone of my life.

“Bruce… John… Dr. Coll… Bryan… Arno… Peak Mechanical – Dave, Randy, Keith… Carrie… Rita… Chad… David… Walter… Tonya… Westwind…”

Amazingly, there wasn’t a single repeated name; I ran out of intervals first! Even more incredibly, in a grueling program designed to slay, every single time I started to tire, with new dedication and resolve I found strength to go harder, stronger still.

“Michelle… Maki… Natasha… Arno… Jacquie… Dr. Kyle… Missive (Readers)… Andrew… Jason… Kim… Chris… Mom… Dad… Lynne… Yvonne… Anita… Paul… Susan… Gus… Jim… Alice… Jenna… Katy…”

I finished that program with a very large pool of sweat dripping off the bike and an even bigger smile across my face. And in a month marred by injury, that dreaded hour on a Monarch turned into one of the best training sessions I’ve done all season.

“And so it is…
second by second…
for the true love of the moment…
whatever it may bring…”

For all you live and are part of these moments of my life, I thank you.

Filed under: from the coffee shop