Triathlon

Fear and Loathing of Las Olas

The other day Facebook was kind enough to remind me that I was now only two months from the Las Olas triathlon.   I went about my day without giving it too much thought.  Then, as if to say “um, not the reaction you should have had,” there was another post.  The new post was a video of the race map.  As I watched it, a lump grew in my throat.  My adorable kid began to watch over my shoulder and asked what it was.  When I told him it was the race course, he exclaimed “that’s crazy!”  Well, I have two months….Two months can sound like a lot depending on what you are talking about.  For me, two months sounds way too close for comfort.  Two months is eight weeks.  if I am lucky, I could maybe get in three swims per week.  So far, I haven’t been lucky.  Here’s the link if you would like to view it.  It’s the second one that says “international”: http://www.lasolastri.com/race-maps

I share with you now the crazy internal dialog I have.  I tried to think positive.  Let’s break this down.  First, the swim.  Ok, it will be wetsuit legal and wet suit means more buoyancy.  That’s good.  It’s in the ocean, so while not clear like the pool, a lot better than the green and black abyss of the lake I’ve had to swim in.  Yeah, that is good too.  Then, as usual, I turned to the dark side.  The negative thoughts started to creep in.  The distance is almost three times what I have done in the past.  It’s not like I even did the first distance well to begin with.  The ocean has waves, and waves make breathing more challenging.  I’m doomed!

I tried to turn my thoughts to the bike.  The bike’s not so bad.  I have ridden more than twenty miles before.  I’ve been training.  Yeah, I can do the bike.  If I survive the swim.  Stop.  Don’t go there.  We are focusing on the bike right now.  Well, I am not fast but I can cover the distance.  What if I don’t make the time cut off?  What if I wreck?  The bike route extends way beyond my family can see.  There are some bridges to cross, those are hard too.  What if I get a flat?  I haven’t practiced that.  It’s been a long time since I did more than twenty miles on the actual road.  I’ve been in the comfort of my house on a trainer more than out in the world.  Crap, I was hoping the bike thoughts would cheer me up.

Maybe I should go backwards and start with the run….I love to run.  Running makes me happy.  I’m not fast but I can push myself on the run.  I’ll crush the run, yeah!  Well, hopefully.  I mean, I have done brick work but never after cycling twenty miles on the open road.  I usually work out early in the morning.  What if it’s really hot?  What if I’m totally gassed?  Man, this is not going well.  I was beginning to talk myself into a downward spiral.  I starting thinking of ways out.  Maybe I can call the race people and ask if I can change to just the duathlon.  Maybe I can call and get my race entry changed from the Olympic to the Sprint distance.  Maybe I can just let go of the entry fee and call it a loss.  I decided to stop thinking altogether.  I felt like I was suffocating myself with negativity.

I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason.  I decided to take Hera for a walk and listen to a podcast.  On the podcast there was a professional triathlete that made it to the big time and failed miserably.  Her life was triathlon.  She trained daily, ate right and absolutely pushed herself to the max.  Everything on paper would have lead to her winning it all, but she failed.  She failed her family, her coach and herself.  She fell into a depression and thought that it was all over.  Then she met a coach that completely turned her world upside down.  The coach told her that she was not to set any goals other than what she was doing in that moment.  She was not to work on anything else until she enjoyed what she was doing.  She started her training, hesitant but so low that she was willing to try anything.  They didn’t plan any races for her.  She wasn’t sure when the next time she would compete would be.  A weight had immediately been lifted off her shoulders.  There was no pressure.  No race on the books, and no competition to compare herself to.  She started to really enjoy her training.  She didn’t see any of her numbers,  and before long she was outperforming her old self.  When it came time to race, she had no expectations.  Sure enough, as I am sure you have already figured out, she totally killed it!  I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that she beat anything she had done in the past, and her competition by a long shot.

Her story was inspirational, yes, but the thing that stuck with me is what she said after that.  She said that while she lost that major race, the thing that hurt the most was that she lost the joy of the sport.  She hadn’t looked forward to training, she was there out of obligation.  That stuck with me because I enjoy training, but I have been absolutely dreading this event.  It’s like I can’t wait to get it over with so I can move on.  I had such a miserable time last time that I figured it could and would happen again.  I am creating a self fulfilling prophecy of sorts.  If I loathe the event, if I assume that I will fail miserably, then it won’t be as disappointing when I do just that.  After listening to that podcast, I made a decision to change my outlook.  I am trying to not picture everything that could possibly go wrong.  I am trying to relieve myself of the pressures I put on myself.  Most of all, I am going to try to accept and let go of the fear.  I want to do my best and I know that at the end of the day no matter what happens, my family will be proud.  I should be proud too, because I know that fear or not, fail or not, I will have given it everything I have that day and I want so badly to enjoy it while I do.

Family, Life, Run

My sins this week: Envy, Fear, Jealousy, Gluttony and Pride

I’m sure everyone has heard of the seven deadly sins.  Well, this week there were five for me: Envy, Fear, Jealousy, Gluttony and Pride.  I’d be being a bit dramatic to say they were deadly, though some felt that way at times.  If you are at all impressed by the numbers in the photo above, so am I.  No, I’m not tooting my own horn, those aren’t my numbers.  To get the full story, we have to go back a bit.  Not too far, just a few weeks ago.

Darin asked if I heard about the Vista View 360 Ultra Marathon.  My response was something like “yeah, I got that email, why?”    He told me he was thinking about signing up for it.  I probably looked at him like he had three heads because I wear my reactions right on my face.  He chuckled and I told him I didn’t pay much attention to the details.  He filled me in.  You can either do a relay with three other people, or just run as many laps you can as a single runner within the six hours allotted.  Wow.  Six hours, ok.  I was a bit taken back, but he is so supportive of me and never blinks twice when I blurt out that I am doing race, how could I not support him?  Ok, go for it.  Sign up!  I say.  I reminded him a couple times and he went on my training runs with me but still was undecided.  Then one day, he just signed up.

Guess we will start with Envy.  I was totally envious of his willingness to jump in and sign up.  I immediately wanted to sign up too.  I am the runner in the family after all, right?  No, this was his thing.  I don’t want to sign up and then make it about me, I have enough races.  He was so excited.  We talked about how he would fuel, what he would bring and wear and about how many miles he might do.  His longest training run was ten miles at this time.  Ten.  He talked about how cool it would be to hit a half marathon.  Then, after a few training runs and seeing his time, he talked about how cool it would be if he got close to a full marathon distance.  Or even maybe a 50k!  I envy how he can think positive “what if’s.”  All my what if scenarios usually involve my death by drowning or bike crash.

Saturday we decided to go for a bike ride.  Darin asked where I wanted to ride to and I suggested the greenway.  Greenway = safer than the streets and no major turns (sad, I know).  He tells me that the greenway on the other side of Oakland had just  been repaved and now goes through to Welleby park.    While I was referring to the safe greenway that required no major intersections, he was being adventurous, as usual.  I agreed and we headed off.  Adventure is good.  As per usual for me, fear sets in while I ride.  I’m not sure exactly what my fear is.  Eating it in the street is probably the top one.  See, I don’t have the best balance and I have not been out riding much.  Most of my work has been on the trainer building fitness more than function.  At least I tell myself that.  I thought I was safe when we got into Welleby but I was wrong.  The path was full of little tight turns, hills and narrow spots to make a chicken like me cringe.  My new cleats were not helping the matter and I had a few close calls with not being able to clip in or out in time.  The whole time he kept encouraging me.  I explained to him that I didn’t think he could relate to how hard it is to do something while the whole time you are afraid.  He doesn’t know what that’s like, he has no fear when it comes to that kind of thing.

Our next stop is jealousy.  I’m totally jealous of him!  He is good at everything, without trying mind you.  I train six days a week.  He trains six days total before running a near marathon!  I am exaggerating a little in the fact that he may have trained more than six days, but not by much.  He has the balance of a trapeze artist on the bike, and just jumps into any challenge without flinching.  He literally has no fear.  I was totally jealous that of the two of us, he would run more than a half marathon first and  I was totally jealous that he was participating in this race and I wasn’t.  I’m jealous that he can think and speak positively of himself without looking like a smug jerk and I am jealous that he’s made of magic.

Needless to say, he did an amazing job.  I’ll get to pride in a moment but first, let’s fast forward to gluttony.  After a big race, I always treat myself to a little naughty food.  For me, I crave eggs, bacon, hash browns and a big ol’ stack of pancakes.  Then again, my races usually end sometime in the morning.  After we were home and showered, I asked what he wanted for lunch.  He chose Ale House, for a zinger mountain melt.  Rightfully so, he just ran a near freaking marathon.  In case you don’t know what a zinger mountain melt is, picture a big plate covered in french fries.  Now cover those fries in cheese and bacon crumbles.  Now cover that in like five chicken tenders covered in hot sauce.  Put a side of blue cheese dressing on the plate and you have a zinger mountain melt.  It’s what dreams and diabetes are made of.  Yeah, I had one too.   Nice to meet you, gluttony.

While I may envy him and be jealous of him, I am so proud of him.  Today, he ran for six hours, he covered more than twenty five miles.  I would not have been nearly as successful.  That course was hard, probably the hardest I have seen in local races.  I am usually thankful for Florida’s flat terrain, but not at Vista View.  This was a trail run through mulch and gravel and chunked up grass.  This was no flat, out and back.  This was the same scenery lap after one and a quarter mile lap.  This was a hell of a run.  He was in pain and he was tired, but he never really complained.  He was exhausted and I am sure wanted to quit on more than one occasion but he didn’t.   He could have easily been grumpy, like I have been sometimes, but he wasn’t.  He smiled at us, and thanked us for being there for him lap after lap.  He was and is amazing and I could not be more proud of him.

Some of these “sins” of mine, I plan to avoid in the future.  That mountain melt is not something I ever hope to eat again.  There will be envy, there will be jealousy and unfortunately there will be fear.  I will work to accept the fear, maybe one day conquer it.  I am grateful for the opportunity to pay him back for the support he so readily gives me and the pride I felt when he crossed that finish line is something I welcome again and again.