SoPossible

Life, Run, Triathlon

Addicted, with bells on

I’m a big believer in things happening for a reason.  The reason may not be clear at the time, but I feel like eventually, things fall into place and some sense can be made of things – good and bad.  I was listening to a podcast the other day about a swimmer /triathlete that overcame a serious alcohol addiction.  She eventually started over and finally found happiness within herself.  She is now a coach and has learned to love sharing her story in the hopes that it helps others.  I couldn’t really relate to her telling the story of her addiction as I have never really had an addiction like that, but I could totally relate to her reason behind sharing her story.  Then she started to talk about all her athletes and how they are very prone to addiction.  I immediately thought she meant doping, then she clarified.  She said that so many of the people she trains are so addicted to the numbers, the goals and the specifics in training, that they lose sight of the joy in it.  She said that they obsess over marking off their workouts and making sure to hit those exact heart rates or intervals.  She tells her athletes to stop looking at those things so much and just try to enjoy the sport.  I felt like she was talking about me, but didn’t want to think about it.

Yesterday, we did the Jingle Bell Jog.  It’s a race put on by a local running club, it’s fairly small but with a great turn out.  This was our second year doing this run and we really enjoy the atmosphere.  We got dressed up in our best running elf costumes and most people run with jingle bells somewhere on their body.  Every time one of these fun races comes up, I have to tell myself that time doesn’t matter… this is for fun, not a PR.  Nearly every time, I have to tell myself that more than once.  Why?  You may ask.  Well, because I guess I am a bit competitive.  I really want to run at as fast a pace I can and see how I do, that’s why.  Don’t get me wrong, running or walking with the group is always fun, but it doesn’t hit the old adrenaline button like running all out and crossing that finish line nearly drained of everything you have does.

This time was no different.  When Darin asked if I wanted to run for time, I casually responded “You know, whatever, I’m not worried about it.  We are here for fun. ”  He knows me well enough to know when I am lying through my teeth.  He knew that our one friend was originally going to run, but wasn’t feeling great and could not today, but the other was up for trying to run the entire 5k.  “Why don’t you two run it and I’ll keep an eye on the kids” he replied.  I immediately accepted.  The one thing other than running at my max that gives me that adrenaline, is helping someone else run at theirs.  We headed off and I must say, I was surprised I was able to handle the jingle bells as well as I did.  I went about a mile before I snatched mine off.  She and I completed the run and waited at the finish line to cheer everyone on as they came through.  I think everyone did really well and had a good time.

After the race, my brother came over and we were discussing all things about life and somehow got on the subject of my training.  He and I are a lot alike, so I told him about the podcast.  He immediately knew that she was describing me (and him) to the letter.  I talked about how I absolutely hate seeing my Training Peaks calendar have any red on it.  There have been days where I worked out when I probably should not have, just to see it light up green.  Then I confessed how the other day, I went to the pool and was supposed to swim 1,750 yards but only did 750 because I just was not feeling it.   Being me, I couldn’t take that the TP calendar marked it as red.  So, what did I do?  I changed the goal to match what I did, so it would turn green!  We all had a huge laugh and in that moment, I realized that although we were laughing, that was really sad.  I changed the goal back so that I now have Christmas mix of green and unfortunately red on my calendar.

Later the same day, I read an article in Women’s Running magazine.  In it, the woman describes this obsession that can hit some runners.  They do a few 5k and then immediately they want to do a 10k.  After that, they need to do a half marathon, and then a full.  They just can’t help themselves.  They have to mark that accomplishment off and never even take the time to relish in how great it felt to achieve it, before setting up the next biggest goal.  It’s a form of addiction to a certain extent, and apparently, I suffer from it.  Like some junkie in a corner slapping their arm getting ready for the next injection of whatever their drug of choice is, I am chomping at the bit for the next big goal.  My high doesn’t come from a substance, but trying to do substantial things.  I love hitting that “done” button on the workout everyday.  I get that high when I hit “register” for a race, and don’t get me started on how actually hitting a PR makes me feel!

I pondered these things for the rest of the day and came to the conclusion that I am most certainly addicted.  I know they always say step one is admitting you have a problem, but is this really a problem?  Isn’t  being addicted to something that is good for you, well… good?  I think to a certain extent that is true, but when I took a good look at how I have been feeling lately, and all the signs I have been given but ignored, I realized I’m addicted in several ways, some I am ok with, others I need to change.

The first thing I realized, is that I am exactly the person that they were talking about in the article.  I started running to be a better pet parent.  I was thrilled that I was then doing 5ks in about 45 minutes, then that eventually became 30.  The funny thing is, I could be so much better.  I could beat my under 30 minute time goal if I just focused on that one goal.  I got started training for the first sprint triathlon and thought that was going to be my major goal.  I would be able to say I did one.  The moment I checked that off my list, I wanted to go for the next size up, the Olympic.  Looking back, I may have decided that before I was even dry from the swim, and that was a struggle!  I’ve already been saying the goal for next year was a half Ironman.  I have become the jack of all these trades but master of none.  I haven’t taken the time to hone any of these skills before moving to the next.

Next is the training obsession, ok, addiction – there I said it.  I have always had to double check that little voice in my head to make sure that I am not just wimping out on a training session if I am not feeling it.  Truth be told, I am scared of going back to where I once was.  I am scared of becoming sedentary again.  I like moving, I like how I feel.  All those little “why’s” I wrote about are still there and I want to nourish those.  I like the person I am when I feel good, when I feel healthy and strong.

I slept on it and made a decision.  The moment I did, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, yet at the same time I felt a little uncomfortable.  Feeling that discomfort is a sign that I made the right decision.  What I decided is that I am changing things up!  I am letting go of the thought that the next goal needs to be bigger than the last accomplishment.  This year, I am going to focus on the races I have already signed up for and while doing so, I am going to prioritize all those little goals and the things that really make me happy.  Running is what makes me most happy and I have two big races coming up,  a 10 miler in March and half marathon in April.  I also have that Olympic distance triathlon in March.  I am going to rearrange my training plan to focus more on my running and swimming.  I am not worried about time for the triathlon, so I am going to focus less on the bike than the plan suggests.  When I swim, I am going to focus on all those little things I have wanted to work on, but have been so consumed with marking off the number of yards that I have lost sight of the quality of yards.  I know in the end, this will make the swim portion that much better an experience for me.  I am not picking another big race until I feel truly satisfied with the smaller ones.  So, my half ironman dreams may have to wait another year or so, but I know it will come one day.  For now, I have to stop making this about the addiction of bigger goals and checking off boxes, and get it back to being about the enjoyment of the sport.  I’m addicted to being happy.  That addiction, I will keep.

Life, Triathlon

Why do we do the things we do?

I was listening to a podcast while walking Hera the other day, and the main guest was a triathlete.  I don’t remember who it was, but during the podcast he stated that he felt one of the most important things was to “know your why.”  He said that without knowing the why, you may not really find the “how.”  By that, he meant that if he didn’t have his “why” in the back of his mind, then he could not push himself as hard.  He could not accomplish his goals without knowing why they were his goals.  It got me to thinking about my own reasons for why I do a lot of the things that I do.  Some are simple and very easy.  I work, for example, to make money and pay the bills.  I try to do the right thing to set a good example for my son.  I try to eat healthy because it makes me feel better.  Other things are a little more difficult, which really surprised me.

I excitedly asked myself to list my “why” for training and doing triathlon and I didn’t really have the amazing gut response I thought I had inside.  I really didn’t know.  What does that mean? I asked myself.  It would be easy to say that I do it because I want to show my son that he can do anything he puts his mind to.  It would be easy to say that I was bitten by the bug and have such a passion for this that I cannot imagine life without it.  Those would be lies.  The truth is, I’m really not sure there is that one “aha-why” I do this.  That freaked me out a little.  I kept harping on this in my own mind.  Why don’t I have a “why”?  What does that mean?  Is that bad?  Then I got this crappy cold.

I have been sick for weeks, and finally went to the doctor.  During the exam, he asked if I exercise regularly as part of the questioning they do, to which I answered yes.  “What do you do?”  He asked.  “For work?”  I responded, thinking we moved on to another question.  “No, for exercise,” he said.  I told him that I mostly do triathlon and strength training right now.  “How much?” was his next question.  Six days a week, was my response.  He gave a hmph sound and plopped the thermometer in my mouth.  After the exam, he told me I needed a prescription and could fill it there.  Then he turned to me and said… “You say this cold won’t go, have you rested?”  I told him I rested a couple days but started back as soon as I felt better but the cold just kept coming back.  He proceeded to tell me to stop training until I felt good for at least 2-3 days.  He also said that I have some room in my BMI and I should eat a little more to help get myself better, and then said “you love that, huh?”  I said yeah, and left his office.  It got me thinking about the whole “why” thing again.  Would I really say I love it?  Is that why?….

No.  Damn, I still don’t know why I do it, but I do know this….. It does make me happy.  I took those days off, eagerly awaiting feeling better so I could work out.  I was miserable.  Maybe because I was sick, but it felt like it was because I was not training.  My body wanted to sweat every morning, but I slept in.  My body wanted to move, but I laid on the couch.  My stomach wanted my primal shake, and fuel but I ate carbs and garbage.  Days passed and I felt a little better, but still not what I would call good.  I was feeling really low and having a pity party for myself.  I shared with Darin that I was totally annoyed because I felt like I was not getting anywhere and was miserable.  He told me to work out if I thought it would make me happy.  I told him I didn’t want to risk getting so sick that I would end up having to take even more time off.  I sat it out the next day, and again was miserable.  I decided that was it.  Tomorrow, I was going for a run, regardless of how I felt.

The next morning, I was wide awake at 4 am, excited to get going.  I wanted to wait for some light so I updated my training plan and then went out for a run.  It was cool out, and seemingly the perfect weather.  That was, until it started raining.  Most of the run was that misty rain that wets you just enough to make it  little uncomfortable but not enough to stop and turn back.  Then came the sun showers and I got pretty wet.  Well, I thought, I may have just sealed my fate and am gonna get pneumonia or something.  I didn’t care in that moment, I felt so good.  I had a hard time staying at the slow pace on my training calendar, but did my best.  I was just enjoying myself so much in that moment that it didn’t matter what my numbers said.  I embraced the rain, Hera’s pit stops, and the duck crap all over the greenway because I was running and I was happy.  I got back home to a nice big towel waiting for me, and took a warm shower.  I felt so good.  I still had a bit of the cold, but I didn’t care.  I knew this was my medicine.

I just knew that the next morning I would wake up eager for my one hour bike ride.  Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.  When my alarm went off at 4:30, I turned it off.  I felt horrible.  I felt like I could not move.  I wasn’t sore, just not feeling good at all.  I fell back asleep knowing it was the weekend and the day could start whenever I wanted it to.  I got out of bed at 5:30 and decided to just get into my gear and get on the bike, hoping I would get that enthusiasm after I got changed.  No such luck.  I knew if I got on the bike in that moment, I would suck.  Not the kind of suck that is ok when you tried hard, the kind that is just from lack of even trying.  I didn’t want the day to be this way.  I felt like I would never be rid of this cold, that I would never feel really good again.  I decided that if I was going to have this cold forever (drama queen, I know) then I would have to figure out how to work around it.  I took some preparatory action.  I popped two Motrin, shot up some sinus spray and decided to test out a new fuel that you take 30 minutes before working out hoping it would give me some energy.  I also decided to watch the Ironman World Championships while I digested.

The show was great.  It featured a lot of the top pros, of course, but it also showed some age groupers with great stories.  The triathlete that I have seen often at local events was on there.  This is the gentleman who has no arms.  There is a woman who will be the first to represent Iran, covered the entire race except her face and hands.  There was a woman who suffered burns over 60% of her body.  There was a father and son who had a story similar to Jim and Michael.  Some of the stories made me well up, for others I almost cheered out loud.  As I watched, I thought about the fact that, right now, I would not have the mental fortitude to achieve something like that.  There’s nothing wrong with it, I think it’s another part of my training.  I never thought I could run a half marathon.  I had to build up the confidence and will to push, even when it hurt.  This is maybe what that triathlete was referring to.  These people’s “why” is so much greater than themselves that they no matter what, the figure out “how” to make it.  There is no quitting for them, it never crosses their minds, likely because of their “why”.  I felt a little sad knowing that I really didn’t have my big “why” moment.

Darin was up and asked how I was doing.  My answer was “I am trying to be the best me I can be with the way I feel right now.”  “Ok, that’s good”, he said.  He is made of awesome, don’t know what I would do without him and his support.  He deals with all my crazy and never blinks twice at it.  I told him I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet.  The late start, the back pain, the stuffed nose, the cough…. They are all good excuses not to train and to rest.  But how would I feel if I did that?  More miserable.  How would I feel if I at least gave it a shot?  Better.  How would I feel if something clicked inside and I kicked butt at my training? Amazing.  I told him I was tempted to bring the bike trainer over and ride while watching the rest of the Kona race.  The next think I know, he has the bike and trainer set up for me.  (See, made of awesome.)  I started to feel a little excited.  The ucan was sitting well, and while I was not sure that I would perform at a stellar level, I knew I could crank out the hour.  I hopped on the bike and watched the winners of Kona cross the finish line.  I teared up when they stated that the father and son didn’t make the bike cut off.  I teared up and cheered when the 80 something year old man, who missed finishing by 6 seconds last year, crossed the finish line.  I was keeping pretty good cadence and heart rate on the bike..  It was not an ideal trainer ride, but I was quite happy with my effort.  The workout ended.  How did I feel? Amazing.  This is definitely my medicine.

So, when I come back to this whole “why” thing, all I can tell myself is that while I don’t have that one mind blowing reason why, I have a million little reasons and I am starting to be ok with that.  I do this because it makes me happy.  Maybe not every race, or training session, but overall.  I do this to feel good.  I do this to be healthier.  I do this because sometimes, a friend will tell me I inspired them to workout that day.  I do this so that I can sometimes have the honor of pushing an amazing person in a race.  I do this so that I can be the best version of me that I can be.  Along this journey I just might solidify that big “why”, or maybe it will remain made up of a million little ones.  I will train to build up on the “how” so that one day, I have the fortitude to hear the words: “You are an Ironman.”  I don’t have some amazing story of overcoming adversity or making history, but I don’t need that.  All I really need is a life filled with happiness and love, and I am so very blessed that I already have that.