Fear, Part II
Monday, June 11, 2007
"Fear grows in darkness; if you think there's a bogeyman around, turn on the light." ~Dorothy Thompson
Since the last post on fear, I think I've turned on a few lights.
It started Thursday night at Master's. Since we don't get the whole pool until right at 8 o'clock on Thursdays and the few available lanes are often crowded with really good, really fast swimmers, I tend to hit the hot tub for a "warm-up," as do quite a few others. This was especially appropriate after a really hard (i.e. I was really tired) hour-long spin session right before, and I was using my hot tub time to stretch.
The coach came over, singled me out, and told me I should be in the pool. "I was stretching," I told him. He said that the purpose of a warm-up was to warm up. "I'm plenty warm," I said. He pointed to the pool.
This made me crabby. After last week's conversation -- the one where he insinuated that he wasn't at all worried about the other guy training for IM-Moo, but the jury was still out on me -- I wasn't all that keen on Master's. I wasn't all that keen on him. But slipping into the cool pool water felt good, and I told myself that in an hour I'd get to go home (even though I know practice is never an hour, and is usually closer to an hour and a half at least, it helps when I lie to me).
I was almost done with the warm-up set when I saw the coach staring down at me over the starting block. Oh, for the love! I thought. How could I have been messing something up on the warm-up!?
"Erin, what's your goal for the Ironman swim?" he asked.
I told him I'd just like to finish, maybe in under two hours.
He laughed.
Did he think two hours was overreaching? Was I that poor of a swimmer? "Well, maybe you could tell me. You're the professional here," I said.
A couple of years ago, he said he had a terrible swimmer attempt the Ironman. He thought she might not make it at all. She finished in 1:48.
"You're much, much stronger than that," he said. "Aim for under 1:30 at least."
I was floored, but ecstatic. He did have confidence in me! I wasn't in over my head!
One light, on.
Then, on Saturday, after putting it off for most of the morning, I decided to tackle the dreaded Ironman bike course again.
Driving out to Fitchburg/Verona, I was in a bit of denial about what I was going to do. I had loaded up on Clif shots and bars, salt tabs, etc. (not going to make that mistake twice), but I didn't even know if I had the map and directions with me. In all honesty, I think that deep down I was hoping I didn't, and then I could just pick a road and bike out to say, Dodgeville, or Monroe. The directions were right where I had left them, though -- in my console -- and I figured that I was now committed.
The initial ten to fifteen miles went a little faster than they had before, but they are miles filled with steep little hills, lots of turns, and lots of wind. I was not happy to be out there and seriously doubted if I'd be able to get this done.
But before I realized it, I was biking out of Mt. Horeb and onto County S. I found the turn on Witte Road that I had missed the last time. I was feeling good, on to the section of the course that I hadn't ever done -- new uncharted territory. And at the end of Witte Road was...nothing. Once again, no street sign where one should be. No sign within sight in either direction.
I called Chief of Stuff, but he was having his own bike dilemma -- trying to fit his bike into his back seat. Just then, I heard a car pull up behind me and ask if I needed help. I turned around to see some friends who had been out driving the course. They had stopped in Mt. Horeb to grab me a Gatorade, and pulled out the atlas so we could figure out what road Witte Rd. had teed into. Then, one of them, an Ironman veteran of 2005, showed me a couple more spots on the atlas where he would often get turned around that were still to come. They gave me their cell phone in case I needed any other assistance, and sent me on my way.
The rest of the route was largely uneventful. I was nervous about the Garfoot Road stretch -- I had heard about its famed "bitch hills" -- but found most of that road through to Cross Plains relatively easy going with some unbelievably fun/somewhat scary descents. This isn't to say that there weren't hills or they weren't tough going -- because the entire IM-Moo course is dotted with them -- but none stood out to me more than any others. There weren't any that brought me to my knees.
About 2/3 of the way in, the Chief of Stuff joined me for the last stretch. With him on his mountain bike/hybrid, it was a little slower going than the rest of the course (poor guy was pedaling as hard as he could, but a mountain bike/road bike match up just isn't fair), but I didn't let that bother me. This ride was all about just getting it done. Knowing the full course. Time in the bank. Confidence. Check.
Two lights, on.
And then today, in a meeting, I opened up a piece of Dove chocolate (I know this does nothing for the whole, "I want to be as light as possible on race day," thing [that currently doesn't seem to be catching on anyway], but sometimes Monday chocolate is a necessity) and the inside wrapper prophetically read, "You're allowed to do nothing."
Between this and the great email I got over the weekend, I think the universe is trying to tell me something.
Got it. Three lights, on. Making progress.
Posted by Erin 8:40 AM
Keep up the stellar work!
Jill