I’ve seen the apology and non-apology posts for no blogging. Remembering those, and remembering that I was not terribly worried that someone had not blogged regularly enough (unless maybe I knew they had a health challenge of some kind and there was a sudden change), I’ll not make a big deal out of my down-tempo in blogging.
That is consistent with the principles in my book for remaining consistent anyhow.
One of the principles of adaptive training, i.e. Farming the Training Day, is adaptive journaling and recording of the training events and training days we undertake as adaptive athletes.
Recording results is more or less data keeping and tracking progress using training metrics that matter to your goals. Still, bear in mind that if you’re crunched on time because life demands it, it’s more important that your body absorbs training of the quality needed at the moment than that you record every detail, or train in accordance with what you want to record. You may later catch up with estimates. That is not a problem so long as self-honesty guides your estimates.
Journaling is different. Journaling is more of your own personal sense and prose-flow-think-through about your training quality, experience, and the state of you. That too may be embraced or shelved, but let’s not let the recording and thinking about what we do be a prerequisite to freely doing what’s good for us and others. So, if being with others who need me is more important than thinking-through my training experience this day, I’ll shelve the journal or the blog or the data checklist, training, and then get back to my people.
That is what adaptive training does from my humble perspective. Can we be flexible enough to admit to ourselves that everything material and energetic in and around us changes, moves, and many of these states of being are temporary? When we do, we get a better sense of the value of completing our training, and sustaining the quality of life it was meant to support by keeping balance.
A kind of humorous skit could be made to illustrate this by imagining an action movie where the hero is training like a champion. A speeding train is heading for a broken track and the hero is called. “Not now,” he says. “I’m in the middle of a training routine, can’t you see that?”
So that is a comical illustration of what it might look like if we put off someone we love or someone who depends on us so that we can complete our training day according to some kind of inflexible regimen we establish, but that does not necessarily serve the best interests of our lives.