In 2014 I did my first triathlon, a “super sprint”. What
started as a way to lose a few pounds, turned into a total life change. The
race distances and training hours grew longer. With it I grew as a person. I’m
not the same person I was 5 years ago. I’ve changes, a lot, mostly for the
better. I’ve learned an exponential amount about myself in that time.
Last summer I learned the full extent of how much I hate
the heat and humidity in South Carolina. I’ve complained, none stop at
times, about how miserable I felt last summer while training for my Ironman. It
wore me down. Constantly battling some body injury or niggle broke my spirit.
All of that followed me into my race.
As I wrote, the swim was the most fun I’ve ever had in the start of a race.
It went downhill from there. In summary, the bike went well but I spent the
whole time soaking wet and numb. I did manage a PR despite losing time being
careful on turns and downhills because of the wet roads. By the time I hit one
mile into the run, I was questioning why I was doing the race. Halfway through
the run when I saw my family, I started crying. I was miserable. My stomach was
giving me problems, so I had effectivity had nothing to eat or drink during the
run. My body was having a lot of pains which in my exhausted, calorie deprived
state, made me convinced I was running myself into a stress fracture. Between
the pains, my stomach and my lack of caring at that point, I walked a lot. It
was not a happy finish line other than being happy I was done.
After I physically recovered from the race, I switched
gears into hiking training. I was going to hike Kilimanjaro at the end of the
year and needed to be prepared. That hike and adventure is a story for another
day. In December I no longer enjoyed riding my bike, so I stopped. I ended up
taking 2 months off from riding. By the time I got home from Africa in January
it was clear I needed to take a step back from all training to reset,
physically and mentally.
Two weeks was all it took. Two weeks of no swimming,
riding, running, 4:15 alarm clocks, packing gym bags and breakfast the night
before, going to bed before 9, thinking about what I put in my mouth. It all
stopped. After two weeks, I wanted it all back. The good, the bad and the ugly.
It was a reminder of how much I love this sport. It’s not all rainbows and
puppies. It’s gritty and sweaty and I love it. I had an overwhelming desire to
move, purely for the sake of movement. That grew into wanting fitness and
eventually to wanting to race.
I never forced anything. I took a month off from being
coaching so I could simply do whatever felt good that day. When I started
working with Katie again, I made it clear that I wasn’t going to be the type-A
OCD athlete I’ve always been (although have since reverted to that behavior). I
wanted to train simply for the joy of it all.
This year has included only three races, none which were
a big deal or a priority, but naturally included more rain. They were purely for fun while putting my best effort
forward, not caring about my lower fitness level. However, this weekend I have
a race on the schedule that I really cared about. For once, I had a clear goal
against the race. Unfortunately, I will not be able to chase that goal. Per
usual, my body is giving me a hard time.
It’s times like these that I can see that personal growth
though. Don’t get me wrong, I had several days of being upset and then pissed
off once I decided I had to pull out of the race. I gave myself those few days.
Then I got over it and moved on. I’m still going to race what I can this
weekend, knowing it will be a DNF. Why? For the joy of racing. Because there is
no better feeling than laying it all out there and seeing what you’re made of,
the good, the bad and the ugly.
