Yes, back to a blog about training, sweating, and overcoming pain to become a stronger, faster, and leaner triathlete!
"Piss poor planning" has been the theme of my failed workouts as of late:
A couple of weeks ago, I had to swing by the Circle K to fill up my water bottle because it had slipped my mind that I was running in JULY! Lovely woman cleaning the bathroom apologized and said I could use the toilet. I was embarrassed to say I only needed to get some water. I was actually embarrassed that I didn't need to pee. Peeing isn't the result of poor planning. It is the result of being well hydrated, or having a weak bladder. What I needed was life-giving water because I thought I could run 8 miles on 24 ounces of H2O. Well, lesson learned. I would not be trying to run more than 6 miles without taking my fuel belt.
This weekend had some challenges that I would not have predicted. My 20 mile run ended at mile 6 due to soaking wet running shoes. I'm not above running in wet sneakers for a race, but for training, i'll just schedule a long run when I can complete it blister free thank you very much. My run started out well, I woke up from a nap (sleep was, by the way, the theme for the weekend), and I started off strong, felt like 20 miles would be a snap. Well, 2 miles in, a few drops of rain. Ah, that's refreshing! No need to worry, a little lightning in the distance, but I couldn't hear thunder, so I'm sure I'll be okay. The winds started picking up, and I hit mile 3- the furthest from home that I could be - and then the rain took things up a notch. I was no longer running through a friendly drizzle. There was a genuine worry that I might drown before I finished the 3 mile route home. My t-shirt was soaked in seconds. My glasses needed little wipers, though I had not had them installed yet (poor planning). Not gonna lie, the rain made me feel like a badass. The thunder which was now very loud and pretty much in synch with the flashes of lightning, made me wish I'd bothered to check weather.com before starting this adventure (I know it is monsoon season, what was I thinking?). I returned safely home, but as previously discussed, my shoes were soaked. I thought about finishing up the run on the treadmill, but poor planning sabotaged me again! I forgot to bring headphones, and running felt too much like the chores I was trying to avoid by going running, and so I did the laundry and cleaned the house instead. At least the house looks better :-).
The next fail was my long ride. I tried to do this at midnight, having lost a bit of sleep the night before due to appointments in the afternoon and being too cool for a nap. My fail occured at 16 miles our of 80. I thought I was going to fall asleep on my bike. That happens more often than you'd think. I think it is because my body doesn't know when I want it to be awake anymore (body, here's a hint, if we are wearing a helmet, I want you awake!). I went home and crashed. . .woke up to eat. . .crashed. . .answered text messages. . .crashed. . .woke up to eat. . . crashed. 18 hours of z's later, and I was ready to try that ride again. I hopped on my bike at midnight again, and blasted through 100 miles as if to say, "All I needed was a short coma".
So, the take-away lesson here is that if at first you don't succeed, tack 20 miles onto your initial goal, and then give it another go :-).
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Over the Rainbow
The tornado that picked up my life and dropped my house on some unsuspecting witch has landed me in munchkin land. I am currently journeying away from the munchkins down the yellow-brick road with Toto, the scarecrow, tin man and the cowardly lion. I believe there will surely be a visit from the wicked witch and some flying monkeys in the near future, but it will all be worth it if we can make it to oz!
The continuation of my story. . .
Assertiveness has never been a strength of mine, but always something I knew I should aspire to. I knew my home was unhealthy. My relationship with my husband was shaken. I looked for solutions, but all the kind ones took too much time, and by then it might be too late to recover (I may have already waited too long).
I sat across the table of a coffee shop, sharing caffeine and conversation with a close friend, and came to a realization. It didn't matter what I was comfortable doing. It didn't matter how meek I may have wanted to be or how this whole thing wasn't my fault. I was the only one who could do the right thing, no matter how seemingly evil, and save the whole lot of us from the tornado ripping through our lives. And, with the love and support of at least one friend, I went to my husband and told him we would be giving a deadline to our guest to leave us.
The deadline I told him turned out to be her birthday, and while this is unfortunate in one way, it is also very poetic. What better day to start a new journey than on the anniversary of your birth? I picked the day because she would not have the kids to worry about, and could try to focus on getting on track. Within the next three days, she was setting up job interviews, applying for jobs she was too proud to think about before, and, in general, getting her shit together. Like a gazelle fleeing a predator, she was intense. I had never had much respect for her until after I told her to move out of my house into a shelter.
The days leading up to her leaving were incredibly uncomfortable. I tried to avoid her and the kids as much as possible. They had every reason to think I was pure evil because I had kicked them out of their home. I felt no guilt. Anger, fear, distrust, jealousy and sadness were there to fill me and fuel me. I let myself feel everything, and I found it easy to know why I was so upset. It was, of course, not as easy to talk about.
The day of her departure, it was determined that her car, which had given her some trouble over the weekend, would not be cost-effective to repair. That was a strange moment for me. She didn't get a break. All these things had fallen apart for her, and whether she had been causing her life to go in this direction or if God was teaching her some new lesson, or the bad karma she'd collected over the years was coming back to get her, enough was enough. I had been given many breaks in my life that I did nothing to earn. I was in a position to do this for her, and with some counsel from my dad, it was determined that it was not the stupidest financial decision a young woman could make. I got home, jumped on the computer and started shopping. My husband asked what I was doing, and when I casually replied, "I'm buying her a minivan", my husband made me repeat myself, and then got all crazy and excited about doing something this "big" for someone. And so, with my giddy husband in tow, I set off to buy my first minivan.
The purchasing of vehicles in one of my top 10 worst nightmares (somewhere after having 5 children and another woman living in my home). And, worse yet, I had to buy a minivan. I promised myself I would never own a minivan. . . That is as it is, though, and I went through the process of selecting and purchasing a decent minivan. So, we came home and presented the van with a birthday card. And that is when things started to wrap up nicely for my story. Hugs and tears were shared, and forgiveness was given and received. From there, I figured, we were resolved, and my home would restore itself to a peaceful place.
That vision is something to strive for, but it will be a while yet before it can be obtained. My husband is struggling with some serious anxiety from the situation, and has needed the ear of many friends and family members. Me? I'm as I've always been, strong and resilient, beautiful and brilliant. . . And though the world falls apart around me, I can feel calm because I know it is a moment in time, and it will soon be gone.
The continuation of my story. . .
Assertiveness has never been a strength of mine, but always something I knew I should aspire to. I knew my home was unhealthy. My relationship with my husband was shaken. I looked for solutions, but all the kind ones took too much time, and by then it might be too late to recover (I may have already waited too long).
I sat across the table of a coffee shop, sharing caffeine and conversation with a close friend, and came to a realization. It didn't matter what I was comfortable doing. It didn't matter how meek I may have wanted to be or how this whole thing wasn't my fault. I was the only one who could do the right thing, no matter how seemingly evil, and save the whole lot of us from the tornado ripping through our lives. And, with the love and support of at least one friend, I went to my husband and told him we would be giving a deadline to our guest to leave us.
The deadline I told him turned out to be her birthday, and while this is unfortunate in one way, it is also very poetic. What better day to start a new journey than on the anniversary of your birth? I picked the day because she would not have the kids to worry about, and could try to focus on getting on track. Within the next three days, she was setting up job interviews, applying for jobs she was too proud to think about before, and, in general, getting her shit together. Like a gazelle fleeing a predator, she was intense. I had never had much respect for her until after I told her to move out of my house into a shelter.
The days leading up to her leaving were incredibly uncomfortable. I tried to avoid her and the kids as much as possible. They had every reason to think I was pure evil because I had kicked them out of their home. I felt no guilt. Anger, fear, distrust, jealousy and sadness were there to fill me and fuel me. I let myself feel everything, and I found it easy to know why I was so upset. It was, of course, not as easy to talk about.
The day of her departure, it was determined that her car, which had given her some trouble over the weekend, would not be cost-effective to repair. That was a strange moment for me. She didn't get a break. All these things had fallen apart for her, and whether she had been causing her life to go in this direction or if God was teaching her some new lesson, or the bad karma she'd collected over the years was coming back to get her, enough was enough. I had been given many breaks in my life that I did nothing to earn. I was in a position to do this for her, and with some counsel from my dad, it was determined that it was not the stupidest financial decision a young woman could make. I got home, jumped on the computer and started shopping. My husband asked what I was doing, and when I casually replied, "I'm buying her a minivan", my husband made me repeat myself, and then got all crazy and excited about doing something this "big" for someone. And so, with my giddy husband in tow, I set off to buy my first minivan.
The purchasing of vehicles in one of my top 10 worst nightmares (somewhere after having 5 children and another woman living in my home). And, worse yet, I had to buy a minivan. I promised myself I would never own a minivan. . . That is as it is, though, and I went through the process of selecting and purchasing a decent minivan. So, we came home and presented the van with a birthday card. And that is when things started to wrap up nicely for my story. Hugs and tears were shared, and forgiveness was given and received. From there, I figured, we were resolved, and my home would restore itself to a peaceful place.
That vision is something to strive for, but it will be a while yet before it can be obtained. My husband is struggling with some serious anxiety from the situation, and has needed the ear of many friends and family members. Me? I'm as I've always been, strong and resilient, beautiful and brilliant. . . And though the world falls apart around me, I can feel calm because I know it is a moment in time, and it will soon be gone.
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