I’m goal oriented. I think I’ve made that pretty clear. As an athlete, particularly a triathlete, goals and stats and data are all important to me. I’ve written about this before. As much as this is true, recently I’ve been thinking more of the journey to Ironman, rather than the race itself.
Some of my teammates are doing Vineman, a 140.6 event that happens up in Sonoma County at the end of July. Another captain and I have been preparing a special send-off memento for them, which involved sorting through over 1,500 photos taken so far this season. That’s a lot of memories! It’s a lot of journeys.
The sorting process was a great opportunity to reflect on my own path to Iron, to think about what I’m learning and gaining from the experience aside from a finisher’s medal at the end of the day on September 22 (and bragging rights, obviously).
I’ve learned about myself as an athlete. I’m starting to get a better understanding of the mechanics of my body on a bike, and my cycling has gotten much stronger these last few months. I’ve been running longer than I’ve cycled, and my learning curve in that area is not so steep, but there are still new things to know. In particular, I’m learning how to run through fatigue. I’m slower, which is mentally challenging, and I’m learning how to accept that.
I’m learning how far I can push myself, and where the limits are. Some are purely physical. There’s only so much my achilles can take. Most, though, are mental and emotional. I need “flake” days now and then. Sometimes, I need to just go home and watch internet television without worrying about getting a run/ride/swim in before bed. The pressure of trying to fit it all in gets to me, and I need to make accommodations. This is mental training, and it’s good for me. I’m learning to be dedicated and flexible at the same time.
When I ran my first marathon back in 2008, I learned the most powerful lesson of my life. I knew, having done that crazy, incredible thing, that I could do anything. It fundamentally changed how I see myself in the world.
I cried for the last 2 miles of my first marathon, and was teary for a week afterward. It was a pretty big deal for me. Now, the stakes are even higher, though the final lesson may be similar.
My friend, Robin, ran with me during the last moments of that first marathon, and knows how much of a crying mess I am most of the time. We spoke about the Ironman recently, and she said, “You’re going to be a wreck at Tahoe!” I love that I have friends who know me so well. And it’s also true that I fully expect to be awash in tears for miles and miles on September 22. Digging deep for the strength of will to continue forward brings just about everything up, good, bad and ugly. I’m sure on race day, I’ll be thinking of this entire journey that got me to that point (and crying).
At my book club last week, we toasted a few big life events and changes among our members. One friend toasted me, as well, commenting on how inspiring and exciting my progress has been. That touched me deeply. I haven’t done my event yet, but already I’m being toasted and acknowledged for putting my time and energy toward this goal. The path itself inspires, not the end-point of that path.
I was out in the Oakland hills on a trail run this morning. I followed one of the trails to its conclusion at a road, circled a tree, and continued back the way I had come. It wasn’t the end, it was a trailhead. The path continues.
Some of my teammates are doing Vineman, a 140.6 event that happens up in Sonoma County at the end of July. Another captain and I have been preparing a special send-off memento for them, which involved sorting through over 1,500 photos taken so far this season. That’s a lot of memories! It’s a lot of journeys.
The sorting process was a great opportunity to reflect on my own path to Iron, to think about what I’m learning and gaining from the experience aside from a finisher’s medal at the end of the day on September 22 (and bragging rights, obviously).
I’ve learned about myself as an athlete. I’m starting to get a better understanding of the mechanics of my body on a bike, and my cycling has gotten much stronger these last few months. I’ve been running longer than I’ve cycled, and my learning curve in that area is not so steep, but there are still new things to know. In particular, I’m learning how to run through fatigue. I’m slower, which is mentally challenging, and I’m learning how to accept that.
I’m learning how far I can push myself, and where the limits are. Some are purely physical. There’s only so much my achilles can take. Most, though, are mental and emotional. I need “flake” days now and then. Sometimes, I need to just go home and watch internet television without worrying about getting a run/ride/swim in before bed. The pressure of trying to fit it all in gets to me, and I need to make accommodations. This is mental training, and it’s good for me. I’m learning to be dedicated and flexible at the same time.
When I ran my first marathon back in 2008, I learned the most powerful lesson of my life. I knew, having done that crazy, incredible thing, that I could do anything. It fundamentally changed how I see myself in the world.
- Work problem? No problem! I’ve run a marathon; I can handle anything.
- Personal problem? Heartache? I’ve pushed through physical pain to finish a marathon; I can get through this, too.
I cried for the last 2 miles of my first marathon, and was teary for a week afterward. It was a pretty big deal for me. Now, the stakes are even higher, though the final lesson may be similar.
My friend, Robin, ran with me during the last moments of that first marathon, and knows how much of a crying mess I am most of the time. We spoke about the Ironman recently, and she said, “You’re going to be a wreck at Tahoe!” I love that I have friends who know me so well. And it’s also true that I fully expect to be awash in tears for miles and miles on September 22. Digging deep for the strength of will to continue forward brings just about everything up, good, bad and ugly. I’m sure on race day, I’ll be thinking of this entire journey that got me to that point (and crying).
At my book club last week, we toasted a few big life events and changes among our members. One friend toasted me, as well, commenting on how inspiring and exciting my progress has been. That touched me deeply. I haven’t done my event yet, but already I’m being toasted and acknowledged for putting my time and energy toward this goal. The path itself inspires, not the end-point of that path.
I was out in the Oakland hills on a trail run this morning. I followed one of the trails to its conclusion at a road, circled a tree, and continued back the way I had come. It wasn’t the end, it was a trailhead. The path continues.
Week 34 Mileage
Tuesday, July 2 Cardio - 30 minutes (elliptical) Core - 1 hour (Nike Training Club) Wednesday, July 3 Run - 1 hour 10 minutes, 7 miles Trail run, Oakland hills, wonderful Thursday, July 4 Bike - 4 hours 15 minutes, 52 miles, 5100 ft elevation gain Sausalito, Alpine Dam, 7 Sisters, beautiful Friday, July 6 Independence Day observed (i.e., independence from fitness) Saturday, July 7 Bike - 3 hours 50 minutes, 65 miles Run - 10 minutes, 1 mile Vineman course preview with Chalk Hill repeats, plus a couple extra miles of wrong turns Sunday, July 8 Run - 2 hours 10 minutes, 11.5 miles Trail run, slooooow, lovely | Totals: Swim - none (poor) Bike - 8 hours, 5 minutes, 117 miles Run - 3 hours 30 minutes, 19.5 miles Cardio/Core - 1 hour 30 minutes Total - 13 hours |