Sorry, this isn't quite Ironman related but it's been on my mind.
I grew up hearing about miracles. About a wandering preacher who spit in the dirt, took the mud, pasted it on a blind man and made him see. So gross. This dude who had a gang full of fishermen following him, found a crazy guy who lived in a cave, and cast out his demons into a herd of pigs. Then the guys who followed him told this paraplegic guy to walk and he did. The deaf could hear, the mute could speak, the crazy uncrazy, and the dead... and the dead back to life.
I want to believe in a world where the magic of miracles is possible.
And then Mari died. And I thought, could a miracle happen? Could crying out to some higher power bring her back? Could enough faith do that? Where was the magic? Was there magic in this world?
Magic.
I've been thinking that magic may not be what I think it is. Maybe these grand physical things happened in the past and some believe they happen now, but there's something else. I'm starting to think things like hope, love, mercy, etc are what creates magic here. Amazing things happen when we put that into the world. People do walk again but only with hope and the active support and love from those around them do they keep pushing and trying till the first step, then the next step, and some technology helps. People can be rehabilitated but it takes work, and support, and determination, compassion. Things can happen today. Maybe just not as quickly as they did in the stories I was told growing up.
No, our love did not bring her back, nor did our hope, or our mercy. Some things, some circumstances can't be changed. But when she died we came together and it was beautiful.
So there was magic there, just not in the way I wished.
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
There are so many reasons why training with a team is the only way I would train for an Ironman. They keep you accountable, motivated, and they make those long lonely workouts not so lonely.
For example there was the Vineman 5/3 brick. Deep in the valley in Westlake Village we did what was supposed to be a five hour bike ride and a three hour run. It was "I'm traveling through a dusty desert" hot that day. A "I put ice down my bra and can't even feel it" kind of hot. Miserable hot. Impossible to fry an egg sunny side up because it would just cook the yoke right through kind of hot. The bike was ok. When you are cutting through the air at 15-20mph you cool off even if the air feels a little like standing in front of the oven with the door open. Plus, all those extra bottle holders are holding water (warm sadly) that you can splash on yourself to cool down. But running? The only saving grace that day was our lovely teammates running SAG with cold water and ice and Pai. Pronounced "pie", he was our photo captain. I've probably posted a picture here that he took at some point. He's also the buffest Asian man I've ever met. He ran with me that day, or he would say I ran with him. Either way, this pro-football sized man ran most of that 5 hour run with me and I wouldn't have finished without him. Over and over I wanted to give up, I felt dizzy, I was miserable but he kept saying things like "let's just run to that poll", that fire hydrant, that house. He threw in small goals and was patient when all I wanted to do was walk. I finished that workout because my teammate ran with me. Left to my own devices I would have stopped halfway through and procrastinated the other half to tomorrow. (Which when I did that it didn't actually always mean I'd do it the next day.)
But you know what else a team is good for? Life.
I'm part of a group that can't be broken. Whether friends for a lifetime or just a year I will forever have a bond with these people. People I never would have encountered if it wasn't for Team in Training. Doctors. People twice my age. Adults with kids when I'm just this twenty something kid myself just starting my career and still trying to figure out who I am. People in entertainment. People who live far. People who live close. Lots of straight people. Lots of straight women. But these people who I may have nothing in common with, because of Ironteam, are my family.
And when we lost a member of our family we all felt it. Together.
Every single day since we lost Mari I have felt such love and affection for my teammates. Generally conversations during the season that start out with "how are you" were given generic answers. But now, knowing we are all sharing in the same pain I have reached deeper levels of honesty with people I didn't normally talk to. We all feel it. It didn't matter if you knew her for one season or her whole 8yr TNT career. We all loved her and all feel the empty place she left in each one of our hearts when she left. Today was the first day since October 13th that I didn't see one of my teammates. 8 straight days of crying together, leaning on each other's presence, and Sweet Rose ice cream.
Here is a thought I shared earlier this week with my team:
"This is such a unique group that I don't think the rest of our lives understand. One of my best friends from college said to me "i didn't know you were so close". Only someone from the team would understand what we've gone through together. We don't just train for a race together, we combat fears together, we stretch and challenge ourselves together, we chase dreams together, and we see a glimpse of just how much strength and potential we have when we see each other cross that finish line. And we have all seen each other at the breaking point where exhaustion and tears take over. We are a family. I love you all and the beauty in this tragedy is how it has brought us all together. I think she'd be proud of her Ironteam."
More than just for workouts. Even more than alongside you during your race (which for a portion Mari did for me). Your teammates will run with you in all aspects of life. Because on Ironteam we don't leave anyone behind.
For example there was the Vineman 5/3 brick. Deep in the valley in Westlake Village we did what was supposed to be a five hour bike ride and a three hour run. It was "I'm traveling through a dusty desert" hot that day. A "I put ice down my bra and can't even feel it" kind of hot. Miserable hot. Impossible to fry an egg sunny side up because it would just cook the yoke right through kind of hot. The bike was ok. When you are cutting through the air at 15-20mph you cool off even if the air feels a little like standing in front of the oven with the door open. Plus, all those extra bottle holders are holding water (warm sadly) that you can splash on yourself to cool down. But running? The only saving grace that day was our lovely teammates running SAG with cold water and ice and Pai. Pronounced "pie", he was our photo captain. I've probably posted a picture here that he took at some point. He's also the buffest Asian man I've ever met. He ran with me that day, or he would say I ran with him. Either way, this pro-football sized man ran most of that 5 hour run with me and I wouldn't have finished without him. Over and over I wanted to give up, I felt dizzy, I was miserable but he kept saying things like "let's just run to that poll", that fire hydrant, that house. He threw in small goals and was patient when all I wanted to do was walk. I finished that workout because my teammate ran with me. Left to my own devices I would have stopped halfway through and procrastinated the other half to tomorrow. (Which when I did that it didn't actually always mean I'd do it the next day.)
But you know what else a team is good for? Life.
I'm part of a group that can't be broken. Whether friends for a lifetime or just a year I will forever have a bond with these people. People I never would have encountered if it wasn't for Team in Training. Doctors. People twice my age. Adults with kids when I'm just this twenty something kid myself just starting my career and still trying to figure out who I am. People in entertainment. People who live far. People who live close. Lots of straight people. Lots of straight women. But these people who I may have nothing in common with, because of Ironteam, are my family.
And when we lost a member of our family we all felt it. Together.
Every single day since we lost Mari I have felt such love and affection for my teammates. Generally conversations during the season that start out with "how are you" were given generic answers. But now, knowing we are all sharing in the same pain I have reached deeper levels of honesty with people I didn't normally talk to. We all feel it. It didn't matter if you knew her for one season or her whole 8yr TNT career. We all loved her and all feel the empty place she left in each one of our hearts when she left. Today was the first day since October 13th that I didn't see one of my teammates. 8 straight days of crying together, leaning on each other's presence, and Sweet Rose ice cream.
Here is a thought I shared earlier this week with my team:
"This is such a unique group that I don't think the rest of our lives understand. One of my best friends from college said to me "i didn't know you were so close". Only someone from the team would understand what we've gone through together. We don't just train for a race together, we combat fears together, we stretch and challenge ourselves together, we chase dreams together, and we see a glimpse of just how much strength and potential we have when we see each other cross that finish line. And we have all seen each other at the breaking point where exhaustion and tears take over. We are a family. I love you all and the beauty in this tragedy is how it has brought us all together. I think she'd be proud of her Ironteam."
More than just for workouts. Even more than alongside you during your race (which for a portion Mari did for me). Your teammates will run with you in all aspects of life. Because on Ironteam we don't leave anyone behind.
Monday, October 15, 2012
I Want The World To Know
I want the world to know who they lost on Saturday. I want to scream it till my throat bleeds and I can no longer utter a sound. I want to post banners, posters, to build altars, towers, a permanent tribute to where her last breath was taken so that everyone will know and that no one can forget. Because the world needs to know. Because I cannot contain the emotional energy coursing through my body that keeps me up at night, stifles my hunger, and causes me to bawl my eyes out even when I feel like I can't cry anymore. The tears don't stop. Even when I collapse to the floor in exhaustion, the tears don't stop. I selfishly demand with every fiber of my physical body and mind and soul that my friend be brought back to us because it hurts so much with her gone.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Feelings on a page
So prior to Ironteam, heck prior to my last relationship, I used to write a lot of poetry. It's how I would get feelings out, especially intense emotions. Apparently I wrote this 2 years ago (I have an idea on who it's about) and saved it as a draft in my gmail. I was kind of impressed by it so I thought I'd share. Lately the pen and paper have been coming out. I'm rusty but looking forward to getting words flowing again.
sitting in the corner with nothing left to do
the silence is deafening but everyone is whispering
about every little secret about you
walking down the corridor hoping for nothing more
wishing you were invisible but somehow invincible
and for someone to care
let me tell you, i've been there before
long ago and sometimes when i walk out the door
but look to what you don't know
cause anything can be around the corner
at least thats what i'm hoping for
in a crowd on the phone pretending to be busy
but there's no one on the other end
i just don't want anyone to see me
stepping into something new, i don't know anyone here
just going for the ride, opening up my life
and that's where i met you
don't stop before it starts
the tunnel is too dark
you can't see what's at the end
Friday, September 14, 2012
The Off-Season and Lessons in Being Kind (to yourself)
While training for the Ironman I didn't really have time to think about other aspects of my life, relationships, career, etc. Actually, I probably used it as an excuse. Oh, I'm not happy with my current love life? Well, it's ok, I'm too busy anyways. Oh, I'm not feeling fulfilled at my job? It's ok, cause it allows me to have enough energy after for swim practice... But guess what? I'm not training for an Ironman anymore.
It kind of hit me all at once. I flew home from Vineman and was ready to take on the world... and my social life. But it didn't really happen that way. I was pretty much stuck at home for a week due to stomach problems. Maybe a little too much river water. Actually Ironmans are really disgusting places filled with germs, dirt, sweat and... well we can blog about that later. It sucked. It took a week for my body to fully recover then I felt this immense pressure to do anything and everything. I went on a handful of dates. I went out to the clubs. And there was a period of time where I went out of town 3 weeks in a row. It was great! It was exhausting.
A saving grace was my decision to do some off season training with one of my coaches. Once his race was over I got a plan and started running again. Then I fell (in someone's drink!) and colored my knee purple, took a break, and now I'm back at it. I think I'm coming back to Ironteam next season and I'd like to come back a better runner. I'll be doing the Santa Barbara Intl half marathon and hoping for a PR. But even though it's been short 45min workouts so far it's been really hard to start up again. Things just feel heavy and mentally long. When a 10mi run used to be my recovery and I could just run and glance at my Garmin and 5mi had miraculously gone by. Now I have 6mi runs and at 2mi wonder when this shit is going to be over. But then, isn't this still just a distraction from the rest of my life?
knee is still purple.
The other night I was in a bad mindset. I was feeling really unsatisfied. With the Ironman I felt I had a purpose, I had a goal. Now I felt goal-less, round, and alone. Everything in my head was crashing down and I felt overwhelmed with it all. The peak of not happy. I had the option to go swim or talk about my feelings with a good friend. Even though working out makes me feel great and accomplished it's only for that day. While talking about it doesn't make me feel as good it helps me reflect and dig deeper into what it is I want to do be doing here.
I made the right choice.
One of the best pieces of the night was the question of how do I become happier with my life? And my friend in all her glorious years of experience gave me this pearl of wisdom.
"It's going to be really hard to be happy with your life if you're not happy with yourself."
Some people may ask me why I attempted an Ironman distance race. Is it because of my competitiveness? An item on my bucket list? Hell no! I started running and doing races because I wanted to not be fat! And skinny leads to becoming more attractive which leads to girls being attracted to me which leads to a relationship, which in my head I imagine I'll be happier. But the grass is always greener, isn't it?
Now my sister and I look related but even though we're the same height there is one huge difference (other than the fact that I look like a butch lesbian and she doesn't), she's about 60lbs lighter than I am. She's always been skinny. But over and over she's expressed to me that even she has self-image issues. Everybody does. You mean when I'm at my ideal weight and have toned arms and abs I won't be automatically happy?
I told a friend this recently. "I'd rather be a fat old happy lady that loved herself than a skinny lady scared of missing a workout and worried all the time about getting fat." Cause life isn't fun when you're scared all the time, or when your self-value is based on something that is always changing.
One of my favorite friends from college lives far away now (in one of my favorite cities, but only when the weather is nice) and she's pretty much been in a relationship since I've known her. And guess what? Over and over she's explained to me that not everything is love song serenades and candlelight dinners in a relationship. It's nice in that cute honeymoon phase and then life kicks you in the ass and you have different opinions, hidden thoughts, and two imperfect people.
Since that night I've been trying to consciously be nice to myself. When normally I would be berating myself for not completing that workout or for eating so much I've decided to stop, take a step back, and just be nice.
Augh, we're (I usually think in we, is that weird?) walking again. This is shit. I'm not doing the work out right. Wait, it's hot as balls and my calf is cramping, it's ok. You want to walk you can walk we'll just do the next interval right. Oh, we're still walking? Then we just know to not workout during our lunch hour till the temp significantly drops, ok? We'll do better next time.
Something that I tried to do a long time ago that I never pay attention to is this:
Isn't she cute? Aren't I cute? Yup, that's baby me. I found this photo at my parents house a long time ago and I stole/took/claimed it. It sits on my desk at work and I barely look at it (need to look at it more) but the point of having it was this:
I love babies. All I want to do is hug children and tell them they're special, they're invaluable, and that they are loved. So when I look at this baby and think those amazing things, I need to also remember that, hey, - that's me. I am special, invaluable and am loved and worth loving. No matter what I look like. No matter if there's a physical person here telling me these things. The important thing is that I think this.
So maybe we should all be a lil nicer to ourselves cause if the meanest person in your life is the voice in your head, then life won't really be what you want it. Will it?
I knew there was a reason I liked Amy Poehler.
It kind of hit me all at once. I flew home from Vineman and was ready to take on the world... and my social life. But it didn't really happen that way. I was pretty much stuck at home for a week due to stomach problems. Maybe a little too much river water. Actually Ironmans are really disgusting places filled with germs, dirt, sweat and... well we can blog about that later. It sucked. It took a week for my body to fully recover then I felt this immense pressure to do anything and everything. I went on a handful of dates. I went out to the clubs. And there was a period of time where I went out of town 3 weeks in a row. It was great! It was exhausting.
A saving grace was my decision to do some off season training with one of my coaches. Once his race was over I got a plan and started running again. Then I fell (in someone's drink!) and colored my knee purple, took a break, and now I'm back at it. I think I'm coming back to Ironteam next season and I'd like to come back a better runner. I'll be doing the Santa Barbara Intl half marathon and hoping for a PR. But even though it's been short 45min workouts so far it's been really hard to start up again. Things just feel heavy and mentally long. When a 10mi run used to be my recovery and I could just run and glance at my Garmin and 5mi had miraculously gone by. Now I have 6mi runs and at 2mi wonder when this shit is going to be over. But then, isn't this still just a distraction from the rest of my life?
The other night I was in a bad mindset. I was feeling really unsatisfied. With the Ironman I felt I had a purpose, I had a goal. Now I felt goal-less, round, and alone. Everything in my head was crashing down and I felt overwhelmed with it all. The peak of not happy. I had the option to go swim or talk about my feelings with a good friend. Even though working out makes me feel great and accomplished it's only for that day. While talking about it doesn't make me feel as good it helps me reflect and dig deeper into what it is I want to do be doing here.
I made the right choice.
One of the best pieces of the night was the question of how do I become happier with my life? And my friend in all her glorious years of experience gave me this pearl of wisdom.
"It's going to be really hard to be happy with your life if you're not happy with yourself."
Some people may ask me why I attempted an Ironman distance race. Is it because of my competitiveness? An item on my bucket list? Hell no! I started running and doing races because I wanted to not be fat! And skinny leads to becoming more attractive which leads to girls being attracted to me which leads to a relationship, which in my head I imagine I'll be happier. But the grass is always greener, isn't it?
Now my sister and I look related but even though we're the same height there is one huge difference (other than the fact that I look like a butch lesbian and she doesn't), she's about 60lbs lighter than I am. She's always been skinny. But over and over she's expressed to me that even she has self-image issues. Everybody does. You mean when I'm at my ideal weight and have toned arms and abs I won't be automatically happy?
I told a friend this recently. "I'd rather be a fat old happy lady that loved herself than a skinny lady scared of missing a workout and worried all the time about getting fat." Cause life isn't fun when you're scared all the time, or when your self-value is based on something that is always changing.
One of my favorite friends from college lives far away now (in one of my favorite cities, but only when the weather is nice) and she's pretty much been in a relationship since I've known her. And guess what? Over and over she's explained to me that not everything is love song serenades and candlelight dinners in a relationship. It's nice in that cute honeymoon phase and then life kicks you in the ass and you have different opinions, hidden thoughts, and two imperfect people.
Since that night I've been trying to consciously be nice to myself. When normally I would be berating myself for not completing that workout or for eating so much I've decided to stop, take a step back, and just be nice.
Augh, we're (I usually think in we, is that weird?) walking again. This is shit. I'm not doing the work out right. Wait, it's hot as balls and my calf is cramping, it's ok. You want to walk you can walk we'll just do the next interval right. Oh, we're still walking? Then we just know to not workout during our lunch hour till the temp significantly drops, ok? We'll do better next time.
Something that I tried to do a long time ago that I never pay attention to is this:
I love babies. All I want to do is hug children and tell them they're special, they're invaluable, and that they are loved. So when I look at this baby and think those amazing things, I need to also remember that, hey, - that's me. I am special, invaluable and am loved and worth loving. No matter what I look like. No matter if there's a physical person here telling me these things. The important thing is that I think this.
So maybe we should all be a lil nicer to ourselves cause if the meanest person in your life is the voice in your head, then life won't really be what you want it. Will it?
I knew there was a reason I liked Amy Poehler.
Monday, August 6, 2012
it came and it went
Disclaimer: My day had a lot of incidents. Some possibly due to not enough training, the voices in my head, and some because God has a sense of humor. If you are still on your journey to IMCA then read at your own risk, but I do not want to be your mental out. "She DNF'd so it must be ok." I wholeheartedly believe that you, my friends, will finish.
Vineman. Vineman. The word used to spark shallow breathing and that tingly sensation in my chest. It made me anxious. I had weeks and I could keep it at bay, which slowly leaked into one week, then mere days. ZOMG. I spent a lot of time thinking about God. I grew up a very conservative Christian and currently I'm... spiritual? Jesus is my homeboy. So in times of anxiety, fear, sadness, etc I return to my old friend and we talk and I talk to other spiritual friends about Him. Helps me cope.
The day before my race I was flowing into periods of calm ,"peace that transcends understanding" (for you bible nerds), and gripping the edge of my sanity. Just breathing. My family arrived with an hour to spare before Inspiration Dinner so we all piled into my family's car and at my request we prayed. And after, in tears, I confessed to them that all I wanted was they, and everyone else, would still be proud of me if I didn't finish.
I knew there was a chance I wasn't going to finish. It was very difficult for me to believe I could do this at all. It's not the first time, I remember having the same issue before my first Olympic tri. I would just have to repeat to myself, "trust the coach's training, trust my coach's". I also tried not to beat myself up in the days leading to the race. Let's be honest, I didn't do all the mid-week workouts. I was approached by staff a couple weeks before we left for Vineman and given the option to switch to Barb's. This wasn't a shock. I wasn't insulted. I actually felt relief (anxiety is stressful) and seriously considered it. I spoke to my girls (love you all!), the wonderful people I had the pleasure of getting to know this season and Mari, my fearless mentor. With a sleepless night I decided even with the risk I would go for it. It wasn't about the medal, it was going head-first to finish what I started 9 months ago. This was my baby.
Race day
Gripping the edge of my sanity day. I don't laugh mornings of race day. Headphones on (Explosions in the Sky) I'm very internal. Doing everything I can to avoid a panic attack. Got off the trolley and ran off to the bathroom in the grocery store. Grabbed my bike, started walking to transition. Scatter brained and half way down the hill missed the special needs drop offs till a teammate mentioned they were back up the hill. Ran, drop off. Enter transition. Set up. Use porto-potty. Run in my flip flops for 5 minutes. Wetsuit on. Ninja coach giving me one last wetsuit pull, gotta give those shoulders as much flexibility as possible, then "wait did they yellow caps?" Ran to my wave and it started. Not a lot of time to think even though I got up at 3:30am and we got there pretty much when transition opened. Setting up T1 is like a time warp. It goes so freakin fast. 6:40am
Swim.
I think I gagged once before I got to the bridge. It pretty much went, 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, clear throat and spit. 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, stop to compose myself or gag. Yup, ladies and gentleman, that's how my swim went. It felt like forever. I had a moment where my shoulders were starting to get weary and I thought, "I wish I had a sleeveless wetsuit... well too fucking late now." I was surrounded by people of all cap colors my first lap. At the end of someone's stroke I got smacked in the face. Stopped to adjust my goggles and empty the water out. We're ok. But I also had the bad voice talking. "You're going to DNF the swim!" In which I replied "What the fuck are you talking about, I have 3 hours to finish this fucking thing." Looking back, maybe I lost my sanity because I was definitely talking to myself for a while.
At the 2nd lap turnaround I was having my gagging issues, which were mentally worse then because I could hear my coaches and my family cheering for me. Normally I love that sound. But the last thing I wanted them to see was me struggling, embarrassed.
But I did have my angels out there. At one point I stopped and there was coach Andie right in front of me. Oh hi! Then again, I popped up and there was mentor Mari. Well hello! At the final turnaround, which btw was farther than the house with the green wall that we swam to during training weekend, I looked around to see if there were anymore caps of my color out there. There's one! It's Dolly! Hallelujah maybe I'm not as far behind as I thought. With all the stopping, spitting, gagging, and flopping around I thought for sure I was just barely going to make the 2hr 20min maximum estimate my coaches originally gave me.
Triathlons are kind of built for me. The sport I like the least is first so once I'm out of the water I feel amazing. I am happy as a clam. Almost like a second chance at life. Birds chirping, blue sky, amazing. Swim till you touch rock, get up, listen to everyone cheer, and get the hell out of that wetsuit. The strippers were awesome! Sit down! Whoosh and you're out of your rubber suit.
Bike.
Now the fucking fun begins. Now I know what I'm doing. My bike is where the more interesting things of the day happened. It's funny how the sport I like the most is where I spend the most time and usually encounter the most pain and discomfort. Hurts so good. But it also has the highest rate of return in my mind.
Here's also where my miracle happened. I exit transition and hop on my bike and realize I'm surrounded by friends. Monica and Mari, you were my angels on the bike. See, I felt good at first. I kept it easy and loose to warm up, because when I hit it too hard I start to get tight and things begin to hurt. We were rocking. Then 20mi in my lower back/hip begins to hurt. Damn. Push through pain! Come on you don't have to save yourself for a future race, this is it! But it begins to be a constant pain that is reducing me to tears. I tell M&M what's going on and they stayed with me the whole first lap. I could see you guys glancing behind you, making sure I was still there. At special needs there's my lovely coach Andie again and I immediately fall apart and cry and exclaim that it hurts. She hugs me, tells me it's ok, and gives me ibuprofen. And by the miracle of God, Monica gives me her only pouch of Biofreeze. Monica, you saved my race. I don't think you realize it, but I had been praying for God to take the pain away. Then you gave me Biofreeze. It wasn't quite the way I envisioned but the only way I got through the 112mi was because of you. You were my miracle.
So my second lap of my ride consisted of passing other racers, stopping to put on Biofreeze, then passing them again over and over for 56mi.
Some other interesting incidences that happened out there was this torpedo of a bee or giant fly slams into my forehead and the stunned bug falls behind my sunglasses. Holy shit!!! I rip off my glasses with my eyes closed and when I reopen them I am this close to ending up in the ditch. I swerve and barely miss the ditch but run into the side of a bush and get scraped up. Let's just say the rest of the race I kept pushing my sunglasses as close to my face as possible after that.
During the 2nd lap I noticed my front wheel was making a rattling noise. I grew concerned and stopped to yank on it, make sure it wasn't flat, and just see what was wrong. I couldn't find anything and kept on movin on. Then while going downhill I realized...it was unlatched. OMG! If I had hit a bump and my wheel came off then that would have been the end of my race or my life.
An eventful 8 hours to say the least.
Run.
I am amazed on how good I felt once I started running. I've never ended a long ride and felt good into a run. This was unusual and fantastically awesome. The first lap I did my usual walk breaks and was slower than normal but feeling fine. Then Ninja coach informs me about the time. Huh? What? Time cutoff? Fuck. For a good chunk Bill (thank you Bill!!!) paced me and in a very calm voice would repeat "alright, we're going downhill, let's open up our stride, one more inch, use the gravity. ok, going up hill, stay on the front of our feet and push off..." etc. It kept me focused, it kept me calm, it kept me going. Then Brad took over and we ran. We ran for who knows how long. Every so often he'd ask me about my job, why I chose the music industry, etc. I guess to keep my mind off of my effort. Every so often he'd snort and cluck Angry Bird style. Then he'd throw in what pace we'd have to keep to make the cutoff. Cutoff cutoff cutoff. Then it was down to 5min and less than a mile...
My head raced. Less than a mile? How much less than a mile? We were getting closer to the neighborhood, would I make it? We were pushing it and had been for a while. I was getting to the end of my mental and physical rope. I was going to DNF. Then I decided, if I'm going to DNF then I want to do it still standing. I didn't want to push myself to failure. We began walking. We chatted. And then I jogged to the turnaround. I looked down the finish shoot and realized I wouldn't experience the feeling of sprinting down it with people cheering and hearing my name over the loud speaker. Not today. I walked up to the volunteers, they took my timing chip and it was over.
Mixed feelings. I was proud of how far I had come. I had about 9mi left. 131ish miles done in a day by my own power. With every obstacle I overcame that day I believed more and more that I could be an Ironman. But part of me wonders, why didn't I try harder to make it? Why didn't I sprint that last mile? Why didn't I want to do that last lap even after I DNF'd? Honestly part of me was relieved I didn't have to run those last 9. Why wasn't I as determined? Why didn't I want it bad enough? I don't have answers to my questions. But you know what I do have?
I believe I can do it now.
I believe I will do it next year.
Thank you to everyone who believed in me. To everyone who sent me cards and encouragement via Facebook. Thank you to my teammates in costume. Thank you to everyone who cheered for me on and off the course. Thank you to everyone who tracked me online. For every positive thought and prayer. Thank you to my coworkers for your cards, funny pictures, and flowers and decorations when I returned to work. Thank you to my family who was out there since 5am all the way to 11pm. Thank you to everyone who raced Vineman alongside me and did finish. You inspire me and I'm so proud of you. And thank you Brad for running alongside me and doing everything you could to get me there. I know how bad you wanted it for me too.
And from here, we have no where but up. I know what I can do and I want to do better. Faster. Stronger. And I will. I will continue my self improvement, mentally, physically, and spiritually. To raise funds for a cure. I will continue the mission, to do this for those who can't.
In memory of uncle Rich, for Ming. And in honor of my dear friend Audrey - you inspire me every time I see you.
Go Team.
Vineman. Vineman. The word used to spark shallow breathing and that tingly sensation in my chest. It made me anxious. I had weeks and I could keep it at bay, which slowly leaked into one week, then mere days. ZOMG. I spent a lot of time thinking about God. I grew up a very conservative Christian and currently I'm... spiritual? Jesus is my homeboy. So in times of anxiety, fear, sadness, etc I return to my old friend and we talk and I talk to other spiritual friends about Him. Helps me cope.
The day before my race I was flowing into periods of calm ,"peace that transcends understanding" (for you bible nerds), and gripping the edge of my sanity. Just breathing. My family arrived with an hour to spare before Inspiration Dinner so we all piled into my family's car and at my request we prayed. And after, in tears, I confessed to them that all I wanted was they, and everyone else, would still be proud of me if I didn't finish.
I knew there was a chance I wasn't going to finish. It was very difficult for me to believe I could do this at all. It's not the first time, I remember having the same issue before my first Olympic tri. I would just have to repeat to myself, "trust the coach's training, trust my coach's". I also tried not to beat myself up in the days leading to the race. Let's be honest, I didn't do all the mid-week workouts. I was approached by staff a couple weeks before we left for Vineman and given the option to switch to Barb's. This wasn't a shock. I wasn't insulted. I actually felt relief (anxiety is stressful) and seriously considered it. I spoke to my girls (love you all!), the wonderful people I had the pleasure of getting to know this season and Mari, my fearless mentor. With a sleepless night I decided even with the risk I would go for it. It wasn't about the medal, it was going head-first to finish what I started 9 months ago. This was my baby.
Race day
Gripping the edge of my sanity day. I don't laugh mornings of race day. Headphones on (Explosions in the Sky) I'm very internal. Doing everything I can to avoid a panic attack. Got off the trolley and ran off to the bathroom in the grocery store. Grabbed my bike, started walking to transition. Scatter brained and half way down the hill missed the special needs drop offs till a teammate mentioned they were back up the hill. Ran, drop off. Enter transition. Set up. Use porto-potty. Run in my flip flops for 5 minutes. Wetsuit on. Ninja coach giving me one last wetsuit pull, gotta give those shoulders as much flexibility as possible, then "wait did they yellow caps?" Ran to my wave and it started. Not a lot of time to think even though I got up at 3:30am and we got there pretty much when transition opened. Setting up T1 is like a time warp. It goes so freakin fast. 6:40am
Swim.
I think I gagged once before I got to the bridge. It pretty much went, 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, clear throat and spit. 8 strokes, sight, 8 strokes, stop to compose myself or gag. Yup, ladies and gentleman, that's how my swim went. It felt like forever. I had a moment where my shoulders were starting to get weary and I thought, "I wish I had a sleeveless wetsuit... well too fucking late now." I was surrounded by people of all cap colors my first lap. At the end of someone's stroke I got smacked in the face. Stopped to adjust my goggles and empty the water out. We're ok. But I also had the bad voice talking. "You're going to DNF the swim!" In which I replied "What the fuck are you talking about, I have 3 hours to finish this fucking thing." Looking back, maybe I lost my sanity because I was definitely talking to myself for a while.
At the 2nd lap turnaround I was having my gagging issues, which were mentally worse then because I could hear my coaches and my family cheering for me. Normally I love that sound. But the last thing I wanted them to see was me struggling, embarrassed.
But I did have my angels out there. At one point I stopped and there was coach Andie right in front of me. Oh hi! Then again, I popped up and there was mentor Mari. Well hello! At the final turnaround, which btw was farther than the house with the green wall that we swam to during training weekend, I looked around to see if there were anymore caps of my color out there. There's one! It's Dolly! Hallelujah maybe I'm not as far behind as I thought. With all the stopping, spitting, gagging, and flopping around I thought for sure I was just barely going to make the 2hr 20min maximum estimate my coaches originally gave me.
Triathlons are kind of built for me. The sport I like the least is first so once I'm out of the water I feel amazing. I am happy as a clam. Almost like a second chance at life. Birds chirping, blue sky, amazing. Swim till you touch rock, get up, listen to everyone cheer, and get the hell out of that wetsuit. The strippers were awesome! Sit down! Whoosh and you're out of your rubber suit.
Bike.
Now the fucking fun begins. Now I know what I'm doing. My bike is where the more interesting things of the day happened. It's funny how the sport I like the most is where I spend the most time and usually encounter the most pain and discomfort. Hurts so good. But it also has the highest rate of return in my mind.
Here's also where my miracle happened. I exit transition and hop on my bike and realize I'm surrounded by friends. Monica and Mari, you were my angels on the bike. See, I felt good at first. I kept it easy and loose to warm up, because when I hit it too hard I start to get tight and things begin to hurt. We were rocking. Then 20mi in my lower back/hip begins to hurt. Damn. Push through pain! Come on you don't have to save yourself for a future race, this is it! But it begins to be a constant pain that is reducing me to tears. I tell M&M what's going on and they stayed with me the whole first lap. I could see you guys glancing behind you, making sure I was still there. At special needs there's my lovely coach Andie again and I immediately fall apart and cry and exclaim that it hurts. She hugs me, tells me it's ok, and gives me ibuprofen. And by the miracle of God, Monica gives me her only pouch of Biofreeze. Monica, you saved my race. I don't think you realize it, but I had been praying for God to take the pain away. Then you gave me Biofreeze. It wasn't quite the way I envisioned but the only way I got through the 112mi was because of you. You were my miracle.
So my second lap of my ride consisted of passing other racers, stopping to put on Biofreeze, then passing them again over and over for 56mi.
Some other interesting incidences that happened out there was this torpedo of a bee or giant fly slams into my forehead and the stunned bug falls behind my sunglasses. Holy shit!!! I rip off my glasses with my eyes closed and when I reopen them I am this close to ending up in the ditch. I swerve and barely miss the ditch but run into the side of a bush and get scraped up. Let's just say the rest of the race I kept pushing my sunglasses as close to my face as possible after that.
During the 2nd lap I noticed my front wheel was making a rattling noise. I grew concerned and stopped to yank on it, make sure it wasn't flat, and just see what was wrong. I couldn't find anything and kept on movin on. Then while going downhill I realized...it was unlatched. OMG! If I had hit a bump and my wheel came off then that would have been the end of my race or my life.
An eventful 8 hours to say the least.
Run.
I am amazed on how good I felt once I started running. I've never ended a long ride and felt good into a run. This was unusual and fantastically awesome. The first lap I did my usual walk breaks and was slower than normal but feeling fine. Then Ninja coach informs me about the time. Huh? What? Time cutoff? Fuck. For a good chunk Bill (thank you Bill!!!) paced me and in a very calm voice would repeat "alright, we're going downhill, let's open up our stride, one more inch, use the gravity. ok, going up hill, stay on the front of our feet and push off..." etc. It kept me focused, it kept me calm, it kept me going. Then Brad took over and we ran. We ran for who knows how long. Every so often he'd ask me about my job, why I chose the music industry, etc. I guess to keep my mind off of my effort. Every so often he'd snort and cluck Angry Bird style. Then he'd throw in what pace we'd have to keep to make the cutoff. Cutoff cutoff cutoff. Then it was down to 5min and less than a mile...
My head raced. Less than a mile? How much less than a mile? We were getting closer to the neighborhood, would I make it? We were pushing it and had been for a while. I was getting to the end of my mental and physical rope. I was going to DNF. Then I decided, if I'm going to DNF then I want to do it still standing. I didn't want to push myself to failure. We began walking. We chatted. And then I jogged to the turnaround. I looked down the finish shoot and realized I wouldn't experience the feeling of sprinting down it with people cheering and hearing my name over the loud speaker. Not today. I walked up to the volunteers, they took my timing chip and it was over.
Mixed feelings. I was proud of how far I had come. I had about 9mi left. 131ish miles done in a day by my own power. With every obstacle I overcame that day I believed more and more that I could be an Ironman. But part of me wonders, why didn't I try harder to make it? Why didn't I sprint that last mile? Why didn't I want to do that last lap even after I DNF'd? Honestly part of me was relieved I didn't have to run those last 9. Why wasn't I as determined? Why didn't I want it bad enough? I don't have answers to my questions. But you know what I do have?
I believe I can do it now.
I believe I will do it next year.
Thank you to everyone who believed in me. To everyone who sent me cards and encouragement via Facebook. Thank you to my teammates in costume. Thank you to everyone who cheered for me on and off the course. Thank you to everyone who tracked me online. For every positive thought and prayer. Thank you to my coworkers for your cards, funny pictures, and flowers and decorations when I returned to work. Thank you to my family who was out there since 5am all the way to 11pm. Thank you to everyone who raced Vineman alongside me and did finish. You inspire me and I'm so proud of you. And thank you Brad for running alongside me and doing everything you could to get me there. I know how bad you wanted it for me too.
And from here, we have no where but up. I know what I can do and I want to do better. Faster. Stronger. And I will. I will continue my self improvement, mentally, physically, and spiritually. To raise funds for a cure. I will continue the mission, to do this for those who can't.
In memory of uncle Rich, for Ming. And in honor of my dear friend Audrey - you inspire me every time I see you.
Go Team.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Mel you are an Ironman
I've felt less and less like writing in this blog. I think the reality that the Ironman is coming and just how hard things have gotten has hit me and there's lots of thoughts of fear and pressure that I'm almost ashamed to write them down. This blog was going to be celebrations of what I was doing and intended to be an inspiration to others but lately I've felt less like an inspiration and more like someone clinging for survival. I used to be proud of never shortening a workout but that streak was over a while ago with new physical pains that pop up now and then. The funny thing is after hearing from other teammates, my pains don't seem as intense as theirs and they keep it going. I'm really good at self-preservation. If something hurts I assess and if it's small and dull then I keep going assuming it goes away. If it doesn't go away and gets worse I stop. I cannot push myself when I'm worried about injuries and making something worse. On race day that will go out the window. But I wonder if this strategy has hurt me this season. One of the things that has been repeated is that we need to give it all in practice so that we will be prepared for the race. Practice hard so the race doesn't feel so hard.
Saturday was a rough day. A 5/3 brick which really doesn't describe my day. Times rarely are made for me being a slower athlete so let's go with mileage minimums, 70/16. My bike was good. It went well, I think. I could have pushed it harder but I was just glad to be done and wanted to keep some for the run. Two separate loops in Westlake with maybe 3 category 5 hills, nothing I couldn't handle. I was super impressed with my teammate "Happy Bunny" who was pushing herself and passed me at one point. She's come so far! Lots of flat tires, which reminds me I want to go buy a couple new ones. I've noticed nicks in mine. I stopped to help a teammate out and let her borrow my valve for co2 canisters. Always good to practice changing your tires and making sure you have everything you would need in case one goes out during the race!
The run was shit. Really. I tried everything I could to keep cool and it just didn't feel like it was working. The beginning of the first loop of the run felt ok then I realized I had to pee so I detoured to find a restroom. Relieved I kept going then made my way up the hill through the "dessert". A hilly neighborhood with no shade and the sun's intense heat reflected back to you by the concrete and asphalt. This is when I melted. It's amazing to get so hot that when you hold an ice cube to the back of your neck you can't feel it. Every aid station I packed my bra and white cap with ice and ran with a rhythmic "chunk, chunk" sound. Every so often I would check if I still had ice in there because I no longer could feel that either. I was drinking. I wasn't feeling bloated, a sign of dehydration, but I just couldn't keep cool. I had a bottle of water and ice the whole time to splash on myself which gave me moments of cooling but would quickly fade back to roast, like basting a turkey. If it wasn't for my teammate who joined me, or let me join him, I would have given up after mile 8. We ended up walking for a majority of it but I did finish, I guess I have that. Part of me just feels less of an athlete because I'm so slow. My loving teammates do a tunnel for the last person coming in and it's cute and awesome but I never want it for myself. Cause in my head it's this walk of shame. I don't want to be the last. I want to be faster. I don't want the attention telling me that I'm the one everyone's been waiting for. The rest of the run consisted of me taking moments to check if I was getting dizzy cause I definitely didn't feel 100%. During the final lap up the hill I stopped at SAG to refill and explained to my friend that I had to pee, which was a good sign that I wasn't dehydrated too badly. To remedy this we opened the front and back door of her car parked next to some bushes and I had my very own "room" to pee into the gutter. Yay. Several times neighbors would ask us if there was a race today and I was so tempted to ask one of them if I could use their restroom but our impromptu room was enough for me. I was getting worried there for a while that I would get caught on the side of the road by some bushes for public indecency. Oh the life of a triathlete.
So, will I get to hear these words over loud speakers? "Mel, you are an Ironman!" I'm not even sure if they yell this at the race... but I will give it my all. Give it till it hurts, give it till they pull me off the road. Give it all so I can look back and say I did everything I could. Self-preservation out the window when the goal is at hand.
Saturday was a rough day. A 5/3 brick which really doesn't describe my day. Times rarely are made for me being a slower athlete so let's go with mileage minimums, 70/16. My bike was good. It went well, I think. I could have pushed it harder but I was just glad to be done and wanted to keep some for the run. Two separate loops in Westlake with maybe 3 category 5 hills, nothing I couldn't handle. I was super impressed with my teammate "Happy Bunny" who was pushing herself and passed me at one point. She's come so far! Lots of flat tires, which reminds me I want to go buy a couple new ones. I've noticed nicks in mine. I stopped to help a teammate out and let her borrow my valve for co2 canisters. Always good to practice changing your tires and making sure you have everything you would need in case one goes out during the race!
The run was shit. Really. I tried everything I could to keep cool and it just didn't feel like it was working. The beginning of the first loop of the run felt ok then I realized I had to pee so I detoured to find a restroom. Relieved I kept going then made my way up the hill through the "dessert". A hilly neighborhood with no shade and the sun's intense heat reflected back to you by the concrete and asphalt. This is when I melted. It's amazing to get so hot that when you hold an ice cube to the back of your neck you can't feel it. Every aid station I packed my bra and white cap with ice and ran with a rhythmic "chunk, chunk" sound. Every so often I would check if I still had ice in there because I no longer could feel that either. I was drinking. I wasn't feeling bloated, a sign of dehydration, but I just couldn't keep cool. I had a bottle of water and ice the whole time to splash on myself which gave me moments of cooling but would quickly fade back to roast, like basting a turkey. If it wasn't for my teammate who joined me, or let me join him, I would have given up after mile 8. We ended up walking for a majority of it but I did finish, I guess I have that. Part of me just feels less of an athlete because I'm so slow. My loving teammates do a tunnel for the last person coming in and it's cute and awesome but I never want it for myself. Cause in my head it's this walk of shame. I don't want to be the last. I want to be faster. I don't want the attention telling me that I'm the one everyone's been waiting for. The rest of the run consisted of me taking moments to check if I was getting dizzy cause I definitely didn't feel 100%. During the final lap up the hill I stopped at SAG to refill and explained to my friend that I had to pee, which was a good sign that I wasn't dehydrated too badly. To remedy this we opened the front and back door of her car parked next to some bushes and I had my very own "room" to pee into the gutter. Yay. Several times neighbors would ask us if there was a race today and I was so tempted to ask one of them if I could use their restroom but our impromptu room was enough for me. I was getting worried there for a while that I would get caught on the side of the road by some bushes for public indecency. Oh the life of a triathlete.
So, will I get to hear these words over loud speakers? "Mel, you are an Ironman!" I'm not even sure if they yell this at the race... but I will give it my all. Give it till it hurts, give it till they pull me off the road. Give it all so I can look back and say I did everything I could. Self-preservation out the window when the goal is at hand.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
90mi but no Outlet Shopping
I know, I know. It's been a while. Forgive me, I've had so much on my mind and the balance between, work, training and social life has me in a tangle of way too many things and not enough time. So let's hope my memory serves me well and I can tell you about some achievements I'm really proud of.
Santa Monica to Camarillo and back. Did you know that's 90mi? Neither did I. The highlights of the day went like this:
After about 30mi that special place in my back began to hurt a la Wildflower. Fantastic, or more like "oh shit!" in my head. I took the time to stop and stretch and my beautiful, wonderful mentor caught up to me and stopped to see if I was ok.
After a little chat she took off and I started up again but something didn't feel right. Wobbly. I stopped again and realized my tire was flat. Awesome. But I was in good spirits and with a song in my head I began to sway to the music and fix my tire. A coach caught up and with a giggle asked if I was dancing. Of course I was. It's nice to be in a good mood and a song helps. Once the tire was fixed I took off. The difference was amazing! How long had my tire been going flat, cause a full tire felt so much easier!
Wind. Not my friend, unless it's at my back. We've had worse but still it wasn't fun.
This whole time I'm trying to catch up with my mentor, but once we got off PCH there was more wind and frustration. But once we turned around, wheeeeeee! Wind at my back time. And that's about all I can remember of the whole day.
A big lesson learned though, if I take my inhaler at the beginning of the ride and then at the first sign of that tickling cough it prevents it from getting worse. Hallelujah. Now I don't have to worry about work outs that are longer than 5 hours.
Also, having your tires full makes the ride a whole lot easier.
Peace.
Santa Monica to Camarillo and back. Did you know that's 90mi? Neither did I. The highlights of the day went like this:
After about 30mi that special place in my back began to hurt a la Wildflower. Fantastic, or more like "oh shit!" in my head. I took the time to stop and stretch and my beautiful, wonderful mentor caught up to me and stopped to see if I was ok.
After a little chat she took off and I started up again but something didn't feel right. Wobbly. I stopped again and realized my tire was flat. Awesome. But I was in good spirits and with a song in my head I began to sway to the music and fix my tire. A coach caught up and with a giggle asked if I was dancing. Of course I was. It's nice to be in a good mood and a song helps. Once the tire was fixed I took off. The difference was amazing! How long had my tire been going flat, cause a full tire felt so much easier!
Wind. Not my friend, unless it's at my back. We've had worse but still it wasn't fun.
This whole time I'm trying to catch up with my mentor, but once we got off PCH there was more wind and frustration. But once we turned around, wheeeeeee! Wind at my back time. And that's about all I can remember of the whole day.
A big lesson learned though, if I take my inhaler at the beginning of the ride and then at the first sign of that tickling cough it prevents it from getting worse. Hallelujah. Now I don't have to worry about work outs that are longer than 5 hours.
Also, having your tires full makes the ride a whole lot easier.
Peace.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Iron Foodie
I love to eat. Ironically I'm also one of those people who can make a big batch of something and eat it for a week. Sometimes I get tired of monotony and splurge by going out to somewhere new. After Wildflower I wanted to try harder at eating healthy. I've dubbed Monday recovery/indulgence day and the rest of the week to focus on things that are healthy. Two roast chickens and a box of quinoa later and I'm still trying to eat healthy but finding it harder not to indulge on a daily basis. Like today I enjoyed these:
UHMAZING! If I hadn't filled up with quinoa and chicken then I would have eaten the whole thing. It was light, tart with just enough sweetness, and delish. I bet you can make it with any other fruit too. LOVE. Ok, I better stop before I go back in the fridge and eat the rest of it.
When the season is over I'm going to start a food blog. And go to the condensed culinary school at my friend's business. Nom.
There's a Cost Plus World Market walking distance from work. It's fun to explore and something to do during lunch. I happened across these in the cookie section. Under $4 for a package of the same cookies Honey Stinger Waffles are based on. At first I bought them thinking they could act as carbs on the bike since they're just like HSW. They never left the office. Since then I've bought them to satiate cravings and of course, they still haven't made it to a single ride.
To highlight some of my healthier eating habits the last couple weeks I've invested in quinoa. I see my coaches and teammates toting bags of salad around with these funny lil grains in it and decided they were all on to something. According to Wikipedia: "In contemporary times, this crop has become highly appreciated for its nutritional value, as its protein content is very high (18%). Nutritional evaluations of quinoa indicate that it is a source of complete protein. It is a good source of dietary fiber and phosphorus and is high in magnesium and iron. Quinoa is gluten-free and considered easy to digest." They have a nice nutty flavor if you can ignore the little rings, like a planet, around them that fall off then look like tiny little worms... Hope I didn't ruin it for you. To make it more interesting I pretended I was on the show Chopped and threw in every ingredient I had lying around that sounded good. Spinach, cilantro, onion, radish, olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Tasty. I get a box of organic produce that gets delivered to my door every 3 weeks and in it came fava beans. Not really knowing what to do with them, I gave them a quick bath in boiling water, peeled them, then sauteed them with onion, garlic, salt pepper, olive oil then added that to the quinoa. Double yum.
Speaking of my box, but not really as healthy, I also got rhubarb recently. I've never had an interest in it and think pies are more time consuming than I'm willing to spend on baking right now, so I've never used it. Wanting to bake with it before it began to go bad I found this quick and easy recipe and made it while typing the previous blog.
UHMAZING! If I hadn't filled up with quinoa and chicken then I would have eaten the whole thing. It was light, tart with just enough sweetness, and delish. I bet you can make it with any other fruit too. LOVE. Ok, I better stop before I go back in the fridge and eat the rest of it.
When the season is over I'm going to start a food blog. And go to the condensed culinary school at my friend's business. Nom.
Distance Traveled
I recently caught up with a friend from my church days. It's been about 3 years since I left so I think we met approximately 4 years ago? This might even have been pre-short hair. Seems like ancient history. She was always a runner and would tell me about her "fun" runs, which to her were actually fun. At the time a 3mi run sounded long to me. A 6mi run was unthinkable. During our conversation I told her about my training and casually mentioned that Sunday I had done a 15mi run. "Mel! That's amazing. Look how far you've come!"
Huh?
I guess, it was kind of lost on me. I don't even think about it anymore. I can run 15mi? Ninja Coach says what to do and I do it, like a drone, a student cramming for a final. I'll memorize till the test then forget it all and I'll be as I once was. I would never run 15mi for fun. I'd probably sign up for a half-marathon for fun, because I wanted to, but that's something I had accomplished before IronTeam (and you get a medal for doing it). And the half was always a goal, not a normal training day. Now our next recovery run is 10mi... That's a recovery run? That's MY recovery run? I forget that I'm not the same person that I used to be. It's hard to explain. Maybe I don't give myself enough credit. I don't realize I've developed strength, stamina, and endurance and have the potential for so much more. Every practice we have I attempt what they tell us to do and trust that they're telling me to do it because I can. My google calendar marks every Saturday morning as Practice and the Description is always "Only God knows."
I barely remember starting on the triathlon team. It was November 2010. I don't remember our first practice, running fundamentals or something. How far did we run? Like for half an hour? Then there was my first triathlon. IronBruin on campus at UCLA. We had just got our TnT tri-suits and I urged a teammate that we should go and do a test swim in the pool. Thank God we did! As I pushed off the wall my shorts began flapping with the rush of the water (they remained on fyi)! Ha, that taught me to always tie your tri-shorts. In the staggered start line I met a girl who hadn't trained at all. In the pool it was encouraging, and kind of strange, to see someone backstroking with the worst technique I had ever seen. He looked like he was sitting in the water and I swam past him. Then on the bike I did 4 laps of the steepest hill I'd ever done till then. It was short but steep enough that I had a flash of panic the first time I climbed it. Then on the run I had what I would always have till I joined IronTeam, my calves cramped right off the bike. Then I became a triathlete. Since then I've done a handful of races. At my old place I used push pins to line my wall with all the race numbers I've accumulated.
Tris:
IronBruin sprint
SuperSeal oly
Hansen Dam sprint
Nation's oly
Desert Tri oly
Wildflower long (DNF)
Half marathons:
Pasadena
Santa Barbara
10ks:
1st one was the relay at Big Rock Tri. Someday I want to do the full triathlon.
there's like 5 of them that I don't remember
5k:
Turkey Trot in San Dimas
Longest ride so far: 80mi
Longest run so far: 15mi
Longest swim so far: Only God knows...
Life changes, even when we don't notice it.
I listened to his other songs but after this one I got tired of his voice.
Huh?
I guess, it was kind of lost on me. I don't even think about it anymore. I can run 15mi? Ninja Coach says what to do and I do it, like a drone, a student cramming for a final. I'll memorize till the test then forget it all and I'll be as I once was. I would never run 15mi for fun. I'd probably sign up for a half-marathon for fun, because I wanted to, but that's something I had accomplished before IronTeam (and you get a medal for doing it). And the half was always a goal, not a normal training day. Now our next recovery run is 10mi... That's a recovery run? That's MY recovery run? I forget that I'm not the same person that I used to be. It's hard to explain. Maybe I don't give myself enough credit. I don't realize I've developed strength, stamina, and endurance and have the potential for so much more. Every practice we have I attempt what they tell us to do and trust that they're telling me to do it because I can. My google calendar marks every Saturday morning as Practice and the Description is always "Only God knows."
I barely remember starting on the triathlon team. It was November 2010. I don't remember our first practice, running fundamentals or something. How far did we run? Like for half an hour? Then there was my first triathlon. IronBruin on campus at UCLA. We had just got our TnT tri-suits and I urged a teammate that we should go and do a test swim in the pool. Thank God we did! As I pushed off the wall my shorts began flapping with the rush of the water (they remained on fyi)! Ha, that taught me to always tie your tri-shorts. In the staggered start line I met a girl who hadn't trained at all. In the pool it was encouraging, and kind of strange, to see someone backstroking with the worst technique I had ever seen. He looked like he was sitting in the water and I swam past him. Then on the bike I did 4 laps of the steepest hill I'd ever done till then. It was short but steep enough that I had a flash of panic the first time I climbed it. Then on the run I had what I would always have till I joined IronTeam, my calves cramped right off the bike. Then I became a triathlete. Since then I've done a handful of races. At my old place I used push pins to line my wall with all the race numbers I've accumulated.
Tris:
IronBruin sprint
SuperSeal oly
Hansen Dam sprint
Nation's oly
Desert Tri oly
Wildflower long (DNF)
Half marathons:
Pasadena
Santa Barbara
10ks:
1st one was the relay at Big Rock Tri. Someday I want to do the full triathlon.
there's like 5 of them that I don't remember
5k:
Turkey Trot in San Dimas
Longest ride so far: 80mi
Longest run so far: 15mi
Longest swim so far: Only God knows...
Life changes, even when we don't notice it.
I listened to his other songs but after this one I got tired of his voice.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
I will not DNF
So we're on our way to Vineman and I am determined not to DNF. We're doing it all. Do the workouts. Spring Cleaning my diet. Wildflower was the first time I have ever DNF'd but also the most challenging race I have ever attempted. As a wise woman told me (twice, once drunk the other time sober, impressed that the gist of it was the same) that when you're on your way to something great there are greater risks and possible setbacks. It wasn't a fail, failing would be giving up now and saying I can't do it. But now it's a wake up call to do everything I possibly can to finish.
So after I snack on some dried cranberries after a lunch of roasted chicken and quinoa salad, I'm thinking .... I wish I liked running more. Going to run after my next conference call.
So after I snack on some dried cranberries after a lunch of roasted chicken and quinoa salad, I'm thinking .... I wish I liked running more. Going to run after my next conference call.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Fundraising...
I'm still getting over Wildflower and have barely had time to breathe before focusing on the next thing. Fundraising. I did have one day off. I took Monday off and enjoyed getting in all my recovery workouts, then taking myself to a nice lunch of ramen and gelato, then the Avengers movie on iMax and then a pasta dinner with the "bestie". If only every day was like that, except for the indulgent eating. If only this blog created enough revenue (or any) for me to have free time. Can you imagine training if you didn't have to sit at a desk for 8 hours? How glorious!
One of the big things about doing TNT is fundraising. We don't get all this training, the benefit of having a supportive team and staff, and certain other amenities for free, oh no! We are ambassadors to the cause! We are the money making, grant creating, doctor funding, cancer fighting machine! So I'm here to announce my newest project.
It's a recovery weekend so I'll be working it right along with you... Or at least trying to. So please come, support the cause, support me, and let's raise some more money to kick cancer's butt!
A lil sample of Cali-fit and what they do.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Wildflower update
This will be short because my laptop is elsewhere and I'm typing this on my phone. Wildflower came and went. Sorry I didnt post leading up to it. I was having a hard time dealing with my nerves so it was better to juet keep it to myself for a while. I studied the course. We drove up to the site. It was dry. As ninja coach said "dryer than a popcorn fart." I envisioned myself crossing the finish line in tears and instead finished the bike in tears. I was frustrated because I started out strong maybe too excited. I kept telling my legs to warm up as I slowly went up beach hill. Some muscles hurt so I thoght they were just waking up. Then halfway through as I'm in aero my lower right back begins to hurt and is aggravated by the lifting of my right leg. Everything is connected. I kept telling myself "fuck pain" and pressed on. I'm good at self preservation, maybe too good. If something hurts im worried about injuries or making it worse. I stopped 3 times the whole course. Once to fill water bottles, once to pee before nasty grade, and then before the very top because I no longer felt hot and was worried about dehydration. There are some happy things to say. I counted my blessings along the way. My limbs, my body, my friends and family. The views were beautiful. I passed people walking up beach and nasty. Which btw wasnt so nasty. Ha. we do hills like that in our sleep. It was slow going for sure but I definitely passed walkers and people doing the zigzag climb. Passed them even with back pain. But after the climb I was hurting and my mind went to dark places. I questioned why I wanted to do this, did I really want to do this? But the truth now is that I've shed a lot of tears. I'm disappointed because I know I can do better. I know I have it in me. I want this. That medal will someday be mine. So here I am a couple days later taking a break during my core workout, I'm determined to start doing these religiously, and hoping I take this disappointment and turn it into action. No one can force me to try harder, I habe to want it and right now I want it. Time to do some crunches.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
I should be sleeping...
last year i thought it was so fun to see my friends and past coaches complete you. little did i know that i'd be coming back for you this year. i've fought category 3 and cat 2 hills, 35mi per hour winds, 3 inspiration points, 13mi in the f'n rain, and made it by my own power from anaheim to san diego. i will cross that finish line. and you will hear me laugh at you.
get ready for me,
m-kak
ka-boom.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Spring Cleaning Update
So to my dismay on Monday I went into my somewhat yearly physical and was hit hard with the fact that I weigh more than I thought. I believe the scale said 161, a number I quickly tried to forget. And sitting here eating an uraro cookie (delicious!) instead of feeling guilty I'm gonna say f@ck it! We're f'in biking 80mi to San Diego on Saturday. I'd like to pick an average weight person off the street and see if they can do that! So even if I'm overweight for my height I'm doing more than what an underweight, average weight or your average overweight person will ever do! Boo-yah!
And on that note, spring cleaning update...
This morning I slurped on a OJ, banana, strawberry, blueberry, and cabbage smoothie. Yes, cabbage. I pretty much take whatever vegetable in my fridge that is either on the edge or bought for the purpose of smoothies and blend them to the point of disappearing in my morning beverage. Last week it was chopped and pre-washed kale from Trader Joe's. Spinach is good. Chard. Carrots. Broccoli. The last couple days has been the cabbage that I had bought for a slaw that never got made. How do I do this without it being a weird consistency? I am the proud owner of a Vitamix blender. Yes, the same brand they use in professional kitchens and Jamba Juice. $400 at Costco and totally worth it. The only time that it had a problem was when I tried to make homemade hummus.
And for lunch we have an arugula, radicchio, lettuce, carrot, grape tomato, beet, feta salad with a balsamic and rice vinegar dressing. Nom!
Totally makes up for the tacos I had on Tuesday ;)
Oh, and my roommate said I'm looking more and more toned. Hell yes :D
I'm also developing a nice compression sleeve tan... I may need to sacrifice wearing those on the bike to avoid more tan lines. I really don't need more tan lines.
Stuck in my head all day yesterday.
And on that note, spring cleaning update...
This morning I slurped on a OJ, banana, strawberry, blueberry, and cabbage smoothie. Yes, cabbage. I pretty much take whatever vegetable in my fridge that is either on the edge or bought for the purpose of smoothies and blend them to the point of disappearing in my morning beverage. Last week it was chopped and pre-washed kale from Trader Joe's. Spinach is good. Chard. Carrots. Broccoli. The last couple days has been the cabbage that I had bought for a slaw that never got made. How do I do this without it being a weird consistency? I am the proud owner of a Vitamix blender. Yes, the same brand they use in professional kitchens and Jamba Juice. $400 at Costco and totally worth it. The only time that it had a problem was when I tried to make homemade hummus.
And for lunch we have an arugula, radicchio, lettuce, carrot, grape tomato, beet, feta salad with a balsamic and rice vinegar dressing. Nom!
Totally makes up for the tacos I had on Tuesday ;)
Oh, and my roommate said I'm looking more and more toned. Hell yes :D
I'm also developing a nice compression sleeve tan... I may need to sacrifice wearing those on the bike to avoid more tan lines. I really don't need more tan lines.
Stuck in my head all day yesterday.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Positive Thinking Pt 2
PowerBrick= 56mi ride + 10mi run
I have very mixed emotions about what happened Saturday. It was fear, exhilaration, pain... I have not met the end of my rope. The camel's back is still intact. But I'd have to say that I got very close to it.
The day started well and all. I pack everything the night before and fill my bottles to save time. Saturday morning I woke, popped in my contacts, toasted my bagel and mixed my Accelerade (carb drink). My carpool buddy Lis picked me up and off we went. This time to Zuma beach. We got out of the car and were engulfed in a cold blast of wind. On a family trip to Hawaii we visited a cliff where a king used to throw his enemies off of. It was windy up there. You could literally lean against it. That's how windy it was on Zuma beach that day. It was a full transition day to prep us for races. There's something about wetsuits that always makes me more nervous. Oh ya, probably cause it's tight and harder to move around, I swear mine is too small for me. We started on the beach, wetsuit, caps and goggles on our little heads. Then with the blow of a whistle we were off!
Bike shoes, gloves, sunglasses, arm warmers, helmet, sun screen, Hoo-ha, bike. These were the things I had to remember during my transition. It's a lot to remember. I stuttered and stopped to count everything off in my head and make sure I remembered it all. A little jog then I mounted my bike and took off. There's only been another time this season where we experienced some major headwinds. Learning from that experience I told myself to not look at my mph because I knew it would only be mentally frustrating. When the wind is pushing you back you could be going as hard as you can and still not go as fast as you could minus the wind and it was headwinds till the turnaround at 18mi. 18mi. I did about 12mi in ONE HOUR. On a flat without wind my average is around 17mph. I am patting myself on the back for telling myself not to look at my mph because I would have been mentally unstable at that turnaround if I had. I also want to thank my coaches and bike fitter Nate for my aero bars. I think this was one of the few times I've been grateful for being smaller. Hunched over in the aero position the wind didn't feel like it was hitting me as hard. I was the sparrow cutting through the wind. Chirp. Another technique I used to stay sane was to have a breathing pattern. A nice calm inhale then a whistling exhale between my teeth. Like I was creating a beat to my own music. It was meditative staring at the asphalt listening to my whistling. The one torturous point during this section was Big Rock. Up PCH before you reach Los Posas is this giant rock detached from the rest of the mountains. I felt like I was in one of those car commercials where they put a car in a wind tunnel except instead of that car it was me. It felt like forever and the sound! The wind in my ears was deafening. At the turnaround I stopped to be accounted for by SAG and a teammate patted me on the back and said he was proud of me and had been trying to catch up with me the whole time but couldn't. Hooray! Encouragement is nice.
After the turnaround was a whole other story. With the wind at my back I was flying at 24 mph. It was fantastic! I was thoroughly enjoying myself and it made up for the long arduous work it took to get up to that point but all good things must end. Once back to where I started I again had to turnaround and face the wind. Then there was...
Encinal
Like Mandeville, Encinal is the name of a street which is also a hill. A 5mi long hill. On a graph it looks like this:
You see that giant tipi toward the end of my ride? That is a 5mi hill with over 1000ft in elevation gain. It's a category 2. One of the first hills they ever take us up is a category 5. Look how far we've come... It's painful.
The only reason I survived Encinal intact and without stopping was I realized when my heart rate shoots up and I get out of breath I panic which leads to a fearful mind saying "stop and take a break!" This time I took it nice and easy, not focusing on how long it would take me to get up the hill but instead focusing on keeping my breathing slow and controlled. It worked! No moments of panic, no huffing and puffing, just breathing. The views were beautiful, no matter how horrific the wind, it was a gorgeous day. Finally a teammate was on their way down and yelled "You're almost to the top! Just a half mile more!" At this time I was getting pretty weary. I had spent some time praying and trying to stay positive, counting my blessings. Thank you God for such a pretty day. Thank you God that I have the ability to do this. I've seen athletes with missing limbs. I see people in wheelchairs or walkers and it reminds me that I'm grateful that I am physically capable of doing this. And I thought of Chrissie Wellington's article (see previous blog) and thought of a positive image with people who support me and inspire me. In that last half mile I imagined my ex-girlfriend jogging alongside me with her hand on my back saying all the supportive things she's said in the past about my racing. "I'm so proud of you!" "You're super duper!" "You can do this!" It carried me to the end.
Then there was the run. Honestly, the bike was hard but for me the hardest part was the run. I didn't think the route was that hilly. There was one hill that I looked at and laughed at the ridiculousness of it so I walked it. That wasn't hard, that wasn't the problem. The hardest part was I could no longer take deep breaths. Anything deeper than the shallowest of breaths made me cough. Like exhaling was irritating to my insides and I had to get it out. It was disheartening. I felt good. I felt strong. But you can't really do anything if you can't breathe. I got a couple good jogs in but other than that I tried not to panic and just worked on calming myself down and walked. For 10mi. Then the last 2mi, remember those headwinds? I walked for 2mi face first into those headwinds. Squinting to keep the sand out of my eyes, freezing, I gritted my teeth, swung my arms and did my best to power walk straight to where my transition area was waiting. I immediately put on some clothes, grabbed my recovery drink, hid in the car, and called my ex to cry and tell her how hard it was.
I was not broken but I damn came close to it.
There's a moral to this story though. We kick our asses and push ourselves to the end during practice so when the race comes we've already gone through something harder. I'm scared of Wildflower but I'm beginning to think that it won't be as bad as I think. All of my teammates had a hard time that day. I heard there were lots of tears. People were saying it was one of the hardest practices they've had in all the seasons of the IronTeam they had been in. I'm hoping I'll be on the course at Wildflower and look back and think "practice was harder than this".
18 days.
I have very mixed emotions about what happened Saturday. It was fear, exhilaration, pain... I have not met the end of my rope. The camel's back is still intact. But I'd have to say that I got very close to it.
The day started well and all. I pack everything the night before and fill my bottles to save time. Saturday morning I woke, popped in my contacts, toasted my bagel and mixed my Accelerade (carb drink). My carpool buddy Lis picked me up and off we went. This time to Zuma beach. We got out of the car and were engulfed in a cold blast of wind. On a family trip to Hawaii we visited a cliff where a king used to throw his enemies off of. It was windy up there. You could literally lean against it. That's how windy it was on Zuma beach that day. It was a full transition day to prep us for races. There's something about wetsuits that always makes me more nervous. Oh ya, probably cause it's tight and harder to move around, I swear mine is too small for me. We started on the beach, wetsuit, caps and goggles on our little heads. Then with the blow of a whistle we were off!
Bike shoes, gloves, sunglasses, arm warmers, helmet, sun screen, Hoo-ha, bike. These were the things I had to remember during my transition. It's a lot to remember. I stuttered and stopped to count everything off in my head and make sure I remembered it all. A little jog then I mounted my bike and took off. There's only been another time this season where we experienced some major headwinds. Learning from that experience I told myself to not look at my mph because I knew it would only be mentally frustrating. When the wind is pushing you back you could be going as hard as you can and still not go as fast as you could minus the wind and it was headwinds till the turnaround at 18mi. 18mi. I did about 12mi in ONE HOUR. On a flat without wind my average is around 17mph. I am patting myself on the back for telling myself not to look at my mph because I would have been mentally unstable at that turnaround if I had. I also want to thank my coaches and bike fitter Nate for my aero bars. I think this was one of the few times I've been grateful for being smaller. Hunched over in the aero position the wind didn't feel like it was hitting me as hard. I was the sparrow cutting through the wind. Chirp. Another technique I used to stay sane was to have a breathing pattern. A nice calm inhale then a whistling exhale between my teeth. Like I was creating a beat to my own music. It was meditative staring at the asphalt listening to my whistling. The one torturous point during this section was Big Rock. Up PCH before you reach Los Posas is this giant rock detached from the rest of the mountains. I felt like I was in one of those car commercials where they put a car in a wind tunnel except instead of that car it was me. It felt like forever and the sound! The wind in my ears was deafening. At the turnaround I stopped to be accounted for by SAG and a teammate patted me on the back and said he was proud of me and had been trying to catch up with me the whole time but couldn't. Hooray! Encouragement is nice.
After the turnaround was a whole other story. With the wind at my back I was flying at 24 mph. It was fantastic! I was thoroughly enjoying myself and it made up for the long arduous work it took to get up to that point but all good things must end. Once back to where I started I again had to turnaround and face the wind. Then there was...
Encinal
Like Mandeville, Encinal is the name of a street which is also a hill. A 5mi long hill. On a graph it looks like this:
The only reason I survived Encinal intact and without stopping was I realized when my heart rate shoots up and I get out of breath I panic which leads to a fearful mind saying "stop and take a break!" This time I took it nice and easy, not focusing on how long it would take me to get up the hill but instead focusing on keeping my breathing slow and controlled. It worked! No moments of panic, no huffing and puffing, just breathing. The views were beautiful, no matter how horrific the wind, it was a gorgeous day. Finally a teammate was on their way down and yelled "You're almost to the top! Just a half mile more!" At this time I was getting pretty weary. I had spent some time praying and trying to stay positive, counting my blessings. Thank you God for such a pretty day. Thank you God that I have the ability to do this. I've seen athletes with missing limbs. I see people in wheelchairs or walkers and it reminds me that I'm grateful that I am physically capable of doing this. And I thought of Chrissie Wellington's article (see previous blog) and thought of a positive image with people who support me and inspire me. In that last half mile I imagined my ex-girlfriend jogging alongside me with her hand on my back saying all the supportive things she's said in the past about my racing. "I'm so proud of you!" "You're super duper!" "You can do this!" It carried me to the end.
Then there was the run. Honestly, the bike was hard but for me the hardest part was the run. I didn't think the route was that hilly. There was one hill that I looked at and laughed at the ridiculousness of it so I walked it. That wasn't hard, that wasn't the problem. The hardest part was I could no longer take deep breaths. Anything deeper than the shallowest of breaths made me cough. Like exhaling was irritating to my insides and I had to get it out. It was disheartening. I felt good. I felt strong. But you can't really do anything if you can't breathe. I got a couple good jogs in but other than that I tried not to panic and just worked on calming myself down and walked. For 10mi. Then the last 2mi, remember those headwinds? I walked for 2mi face first into those headwinds. Squinting to keep the sand out of my eyes, freezing, I gritted my teeth, swung my arms and did my best to power walk straight to where my transition area was waiting. I immediately put on some clothes, grabbed my recovery drink, hid in the car, and called my ex to cry and tell her how hard it was.
I was not broken but I damn came close to it.
There's a moral to this story though. We kick our asses and push ourselves to the end during practice so when the race comes we've already gone through something harder. I'm scared of Wildflower but I'm beginning to think that it won't be as bad as I think. All of my teammates had a hard time that day. I heard there were lots of tears. People were saying it was one of the hardest practices they've had in all the seasons of the IronTeam they had been in. I'm hoping I'll be on the course at Wildflower and look back and think "practice was harder than this".
18 days.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Positive Thinking
Negative self-talk. It seems so stupid. I have the tendency to be nice to everyone else except myself. I'm even doing it now. Why do we have that voice in our head that stirs up doubt and puts us down all the time? Don't pretend like you don't have it too!
A chunk of what it takes to do an Ironman distance triathlon (from what I'm told) is mental toughness. Your body is capable of doing the distance, it's just whether your mind wants to push through the discomfort, pain, and the overwhelming distance before you. It's one of the reasons I love practice. When I workout on my own my mind is full of excuses. "I could just walk. I can just do it tomorrow. I think I'll cut it short." But at practice I'm with my team. I have to do it. I enjoy it too. The camaraderie, the cheering for each other, and sometimes running or biking along side a friend is the best encouragement. Plus, a little of that competitive edge kicks in and you push a little harder to beat your friends which is nice too. I'll have a little of that at my race, but for the most part I expect to be by myself. It'll hurt. It'll be uncomfortable. Lonely. I will need some tools under my belt other than some Gus and Accelerade.
I recently read an article on CNN by Chrissie Wellington.
I love Chrissie Wellington. Not only is she a 4 time World Ironman Champion (Pros, btw, finish the Ironman distance in under NINE HOURS. I'll be lucky if I finish in 15) but she's known to smile the whole way. In her bio it says she volunteered for the homeless after college, then while working in Nepal she raised money for an orphanage in her spare time (*swoon*), and she stumbled into the sport of triathlon.
Anyways... in the article Chrissie lists some of the techniques she uses to keep on keepin on.
A chunk of what it takes to do an Ironman distance triathlon (from what I'm told) is mental toughness. Your body is capable of doing the distance, it's just whether your mind wants to push through the discomfort, pain, and the overwhelming distance before you. It's one of the reasons I love practice. When I workout on my own my mind is full of excuses. "I could just walk. I can just do it tomorrow. I think I'll cut it short." But at practice I'm with my team. I have to do it. I enjoy it too. The camaraderie, the cheering for each other, and sometimes running or biking along side a friend is the best encouragement. Plus, a little of that competitive edge kicks in and you push a little harder to beat your friends which is nice too. I'll have a little of that at my race, but for the most part I expect to be by myself. It'll hurt. It'll be uncomfortable. Lonely. I will need some tools under my belt other than some Gus and Accelerade.
I recently read an article on CNN by Chrissie Wellington.
I love Chrissie Wellington. Not only is she a 4 time World Ironman Champion (Pros, btw, finish the Ironman distance in under NINE HOURS. I'll be lucky if I finish in 15) but she's known to smile the whole way. In her bio it says she volunteered for the homeless after college, then while working in Nepal she raised money for an orphanage in her spare time (*swoon*), and she stumbled into the sport of triathlon.
Anyways... in the article Chrissie lists some of the techniques she uses to keep on keepin on.
- Have a mantra and/or a special song to repeat
All of these have gone through my head at some point. "I can, I can, I can". "You can go hard, or you can go home." "I matter". "This just makes you stronger." "I'm a dolphin". "Run like a gazelle!". "This is easier than chemo!"
- Keep a bank of positive mental images
I haven't done this. I'm not sure I'm an image person. Hmmmm, how about an image of a skinnier me? A flat stomach? A cure for cancer?
- Practice visualization beforehand
Pre-race jitters are my enemy. They're worse than the race. I stand there with a bottle of water and my mini Altoids and I don't speak. I'll acknowledge you but I can't really carry on a conversation. I just stand there, wait, and make someone hug me. But I have tried this. Imagining how great it feels when I'm done with the swim. Imagining swimming and flowing through the water instead of flopping around and fighting it. Meditating on being triumphant instead of panic.
- Break the race up into smaller, more manageable segments
My first coach always told us to go buoy to buoy on the swim. Each buoy the next goal. My race has loops in it so that my be either torture or help. Torture because I'll be passing where people are turning in to finish and help by cutting the race into pieces.
- Remember that training is about learning to hurt
Ouch. I'm not good at being uncomfortable. Have I mentioned that?
- Get people to support you
You dear readers! Everyone who's donated to my fundraising! Those who have bought a mile of my race. I'm debating on whether to write your names on my arm or tape that will go on my handle bars.
- Mentally recall inspirational people
Like Chrissie Wellington? Or better yet, Uncle Rich.
- Consider racing for a cause that is bigger than yourself
Leukemia and Lymphoma Society! Kicking cancer's ass!
As the race gets closer I'll be fine-tuning these thoughts and adding them to my arsenal of Ironman weapons of mass motivation. But for now... maybe I should take up meditation again?
Wildflower 21 days and counting!!! *shudder*
Probably the dumbest video I've put up so far but it goes with the theme, and of course, the chorus was a mantra that I've used.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)