Posted by Erin 8:18 AM 1 comments

Deja Vu All Over Again
Thursday, June 28, 2007

Okay, so this post is a bit belated (and long) but I wanted to make sure and get it down because something tells me that in the months ahead, I'm going to want to draw on what happened a few times over.

Last week, I was suffering a serious case of the "blahs." Add to that the fact that it was beautiful out and my sister was coming to town and I was facing a two-loop ride on the infamous IM-Moo bike course on Saturday, and I didn't want to do an-y-thing Ironman-related.

My coach called on Thursday afternoon to check in and see how things were going. I grunted something along the lines of feeling wholly unmotivated and uninspired. She told me to take Thursday or Friday off completely to regroup. So, I trudged home Thursday after work with the idea that I'd sit myself on my trainer for two hours before my sister got there, and then reward myself with two nights of (moderate) fun with her afterwards.

But on the trainer, my legs just wouldn't go. I wasn't just unmotivated, I was slack with all-over fatigue. Nothing worked. I got almost the whole time in before my sister arrived, but I hated every single solitary minute of it. It was not pretty, and I'm quite certain, not effective in the least.

That night my sister, Chief of Stuff, and I hit Eno Vino, easily one of my favorite Madison-area restaurants. The next morning my sister and I went for breakfast before I had to work, and then I took off slightly early from work to run to the store with her and cook dinner after. All the while, the only thing I could think about was the impending 80-miler I had coming on Saturday...so much so that I couldn't even really enjoy myself. I just wanted it over.

Saturday morning dawned sunny and cool, and I said goodbye to my sister, who was planning on leaving after breakfast, and my dog, Leonard, whom she was taking with her back up to my parents' house for the remainder of summer (while I'm in IM training mode, he's at "summer camp" in the UP), and got in my car with the attitude of "I'm just going to get this done."

I parked where I usually do in Verona -- at the BP gas station on Whalen Road -- got on my bike, and...no computer. I mean, my bike computer was there, but wasn't registering anything. Arrrrghhhh. I fiddled with it for a while, and then just bagged the whole idea of knowing my pace or miles covered.

Looking back, I didn't have the greatest mental attitude out there. Turning onto Valley View Road, I thought to myself, I really hate this part of the course. Turning onto Rt. 92 I thought, I read somewhere that this stretch is almost all uphill. Perfect. And then, Arrgh, this is where all of the damn butterflies are. (There's a section that's just thick with beautiful Monarchs). Just past the sign for Cave of the Mounds outside of Mt. Horeb I thought, Oh-oh. This is where the big hill leading into town is. And turning onto Witte Rd. outside of town I thought, This is where things start getting really tough. And then I started thinking, I'm going to have to do this all all over again, and I wanted to cry, or scream, or just quit.

And then, somewhere past the turn I missed for Midtown Rd., things started to feel funny. My bike seemed like it was dragging, and there was an off sound. Slowing down, I felt my back tire. Flat. As a pancake, flat. And as marginally-proficient as I am at changing a front tire, I'm hopeless at the back one.

My initial plan was to wait for a fellow biker to whiz by, and when he/she asked if I needed help, to say "yes." But I was off the course and the packs of cyclists that dotted the course that morning were nowhere in sight. So I took out my cell phone to call CoS. No service.

Still hoping that someone would happen by, I started walking. I walked, and walked. I walked to the top of a hill. Still no service. So I kept walking. Still no other bikers. Kept walking. Finally, service. Called CoS, who offered to come get me. I'm sure, from his point of view, that he was probably thankful there at least wasn't any crying this time.

As a last-ditch effort, I figured I'd try to inflate the tire so I could at least ride a ways up. Or maybe it would even hold for the last five miles or so. But I hadn't screwed in the CO2 cartridge enough, or something, because when I tried that, it exploded air everywhere. Now, even another biker couldn't help.

So I took a seat on the curb and waited. And waited. And waited. And suddenly, of course, the road was ripe with cyclists asking if I needed help. "Ride's coming" I told each of them.

I kept checking the clock, calculating if I'd have enough time to get the tire fixed, drive back out to Verona, and tackle the second loop before leaving for Janesville for dinner plans I had. Long before my sister and CoS arrived, though, I had to abandon that plan.

It was 1 p.m. by the time I loaded my bike into the car. So I adjusted. I'd send my sister off, and hit the Y for the moderately-difficult swim set I had for the following day. I consoled myself with the fact that it was a little breezy out, and overcast -- not good sunbathing, relaxing weather anyway. And after convincing myself that I might as well be working out, the swimming went well.

But I had yet to tackle the back-to-back laps I had scheduled for that weekend on the bike.

*********************************

The next day I was dreading my workout more than ever. And I firmly believe that the only way I even got myself out on that course again was by not really acknowledging what I was about to do. I just kept telling myself, "It's 2 p.m. now. You're going to bike until 8 p.m.," and ticking off the hours that way.

It was hot -- hot-like-my-black-bike-shorts-are-going-to-be-singed-into-my-ass hot. And I was tired. Tired before I even got out there. But my computer was back in working order, and I tried to just focus on the numbers. Keep my speed above 15 mph on the flats or flat-ish areas, not let it drop below 10 on most of the hills, see how fast I could get going on the downhills.

The first lap was the worst, because all I could think about was that I had one more of these to go. And I didn't honestly know if I could do it.

Just finish this lap, I told myself, and then you can pack it in and go home. You don't HAVE to do two today.

Now, this was all mental. Overall, I felt good. But I wasn't into biking. I was lonely out there. I wanted to be by a pool, or cleaning my apartment, even. I didn't want to be on my damned bike any longer.

Then, somewhere around Old Sauk Pass Rd., a guy came up behind me, and instead of passing, just glided along beside me. We started chatting -- about biking, the wind (which, I had been too focused on other negative thoughts to even notice), the upcoming Dairyland Dare, and even restaurants. He lost me on one of the Bitch Hills, and afterwards I stopped for a water refill, but that brief bit of company remains one of the standout portions of my weekend.

I told myself then, that I'd stop at Fireman's Park in Verona, dip my feet in the lake while I ate my Clif Shots and salt tabs, and then I'd be off again...and done before it got dark. But Fireman's Park, I soon learned, is a lake you have to pay admission to!

Sitting in the grass outside the chainlink fence, looking at the water, I decided that this day -- this weekend -- really sucked. And then something changed. But you're doing it came the voice in my head.

I had three hours left in the time I had allotted. And that last lap was different. I was in Mt. Horeb before I even realized it. As a treat, I let myself buy anything I wanted from the Mobil Station. I chose cheese pretzel combos. (A funny aside -- walking up to the register in my biking garb, complete with helmet on, the cashier asked if I had gas outside. He soon caught himself, embarrassed, but it made me laugh for the next couple miles at least). Then, I found myself thinking things like "almost done" and "this is the last time you have to do this hill today." And struggling up the last Bitch Hill on Midtown Rd., I thought of how my sister, the day before, was so awed by the course...of how she said the hills were intimidating even in a car, and of how she said that she saw people walking the hills.

And this, my third trip up, and then down, them this weekend, and I was still pedaling.

Coming into Verona, I eased up on speed, and just relaxed. I smiled at people out for their evening walks with kids or dogs or both. They smiled back. I thought about how nice people here are, and about how I couldn't wait to ride that route with some of those same people -- along with my friends and family -- lining the streets. And about how today -- this day where I didn't want to from the beginning and overcame it all...this day where it was hot and beautiful and people everywhere were out enjoying it when I was sweating and working and hurting all alone -- this day would be the hardest. And I can handle anything now, because on September 9th out here, I will have company. There will be people cheering. I will get to see my friends and family regularly throughout the day, even if for seconds.

And it will all be worth it.

Final tally for the day:

• 80.4 miles
• 5 hours, 38 minutes
• 15.4 mph on lap one, 15.2 mph on lap two.

And as Melanie would say..."Check!"

Posted by Erin 8:11 AM 3 comments

Blah
Wednesday, June 27, 2007

That's how I've felt lately. Straight-up unmotivated and uninspired. Apathetic. Tired. Whiny, even.

The other day, when the absolute very last thing I wanted to do was get on my bike for an all-day ride and made a point of saying so -- often -- Chief of Stuff told me, "You chose this."

Helpful.

I know I did. I chose the intense 12-month training calendar, the time away from friends and family, the getting up early and/or going to bed late and doing-nothing-but-working-out willingly. I chose it to try and push myself to limits I probably don't yet know I have. I chose it to try and attempt the unthinkable, and I chose it knowing that that attempt would involve a lot of sacrifice.

But honest-to-god, there are some days when the sun is shining or the rain is pouring and I just want to be a normal person who can say, "I'm going to lay by the pool today and read a trashy magazine" or, "There's a great movie I want to see and, hey, let's go catch a matinee." And the thing is, I can say those things, and do them. But the rub is that, if I do, I spend the entire time not enjoying the magazine or movie, but worrying that I've derailed my goal with one lazy weekend. Again, my choice, I know. But go back and re-read the first sentence of this post.

My goals haven't necessarily changed. I still want to do this, accomplish this. Badly. And one of my goals is to train hard enough that I can enjoy -- as opposed to suffering through -- race day.

What seems to have changed is that my drive seems to have up and left. I'm still getting my workouts in, but every single one for the past two weeks has been an epic battle -- both mentally and physically -- to start, continue, and finish. There's no intensity, no zip. There's none of the previous random thoughts like "You are training for an Ironman! Kickass!" that used to get me all jazzed during a workout and as a result, up the intensity a bit.

I've been going through the motions, and I'm tired. Tired of doing that, of not having my usual zip.

My coach suggested taking a day off last week. I did. No zip.

Chief of Stuff suggested a fun bike ride around Lake Monona and through the Arb. I did it. No zip.

Last night, I ground out a nearly four-hour workout. It was supposed to be easy and I tried to make it fun, but by the time I got a lane in the pool at 9:20 p.m., I wanted to be anywhere but there. My arms felt like lead, and so did my eyes. And the whole while, I had the whole angel-devil debate going on inside my head: "You've worked out for almost three hours already, that's insane by normal-people standards...you should just go home and get a good night's sleep." / "You need these swim workouts...you don't want your race day to end at 9:30 a.m. because you didn't make the cutoff, do you? Or not to make the bike cutoff because you just eeeked out a 2:20 swim?" / "Just do half the workout, then. Better a good half workout than a half-ass full workout." / "You can't just do half. That's being lazy. It's five minutes to ten at night and you have no where else to be, so just do the last set of 100's. Just get it done." And on. And on.

So, I'm at a bit of a loss. I desperately want to get back to that place where training was fun, at least most of the time. Where I looked forward to the challenges I'd face on my demanding training days and celebrated overcoming them afterwards. Where I was inspired and enthused and motivated by something other than checking off a box on my training calendar. I've lost my way and gotten turned around, and now I'm just waiting for some kind of landmark or signal to tell me that I'm heading back in the right direction.

One of the things my coach assigned me to do is to find a training partner. Not for every day, but someone who can alleviate some of the long rides, and when I can (god-willing do them) long runs. I think this might help. A lot. It gets lonely out there all by oneself, with only oneself for company. And in addition, the next seven weeks are going to be a bitch: hard schedule, hard workouts, hard races.

So, we'll see if I have any luck, and if it works. Stay tuned...and keep your collective fingers crossed.

Posted by Erin 10:56 AM 2 comments

50 Tips...for One Day

This is from an article my coach provided for me. Some aren't relevant, but some are incredibly interesting and poignant...more to me, probably, which is why I'm positing it -- so I'll read these over and over again and not file the email away and forget about it.

In reading the list, though, I couldn't help but think, All this for only one day?

IRONMAN TRAINING TIPS

HERE ARE 50 TRAINING TIPS TO GET YOU TO THE FINISH LINE OF THE ULTIMATE TRIATHLON.......Are you a Super Athlete? If so this ARTICLE is not for you. Are you normal? Do you have a job, family plus limited training? Read on........

1. Train your mind as well as your body.

2. If you don't feel well, take a day, or a week, or whatever it takes off, until you are better. Training when you are unwell is the road to no-where.

3. It's better to get to the start line, healthy and slightly under prepared than unhealthy and over trained. You need to be hungry.... for this event.

4. Get to the race site two days before kick off and get a good nights sleep two nights before the race - don't bother going to the Pasta Party if it's the night before the race, because you are only going to get psyched out by "go faster" hair cuts......

5. Take your own emergency supplies of water and drink on the run.

6. Practice drinking and eating on the run during training and buy yourself a running belt.

7. Be prepared for a bad moment during the swim - relax, go onto your back and think your way out of the crisis before starting again slowly.

8. Be prepared for several bad moments during the bike. The second hour of the bike ride is the DANGER HOUR. The adrenaline rush from finishing the swim has dissipated and there is the dawning realization that there is a very long day ahead - with only two wheels for company. You must remember the big picture i.e.: the finish line.

9. Be prepared for MANY bad moments during the RUN - You can Slow Down and Walk at this stage.

* The Golden Rule is to keep on moving to the FINISH LINE. * See the marathon as a 13 Mile Shuffle. When you have got 1/2 way, every step is closer to NIRVANA, sorry the finish line. Try to jog for 8 mins, then walk for 1 or 2 mins. This means your ticking off a mile every 10 mins. This is 4.20 marathon pace, (I managed 4.13 in Aberfeldy using these tactics). * Walk before you have to, no matter how good you feel. Any one who says that they can run the entire marathon without stopping is seriously deluded. You must stay on the correct side of the red line.

10. Try to fool your body and your mind.

* During the swim, focus only on the swim. Reward yourself with a tick in a mental box, when you hit dry land. * During the bike, focus only on the bike. There is no point in worrying about the run because you are not actually on the run course. * During the run, think only of the finish line. It doesn't matter if you walk, shuffle, jog, limp etc.

11. Dave Scott never ran more than 13 miles between winning successive Hawaii races, so why should you? The key to your successful completion of an Ironman is open water swimming and long bike rides. You can always walk during the so-called run stage. The more running you do in training, the higher the chance of injury.

12. Use Vaseline on all your moving parts in T2 before starting the run. Put on running socks with the greatest of care. If you rush, you will put them on in such a way that you will blister. You will have enough to worry about for 4 or 5 hours of the marathon other than avoidable and unnecessary blisters. If one part of your body hurts particularly (hamstrings, Achilles, wrists, whatever,) focus on everything in your body that is not suffering. Think how great it is that your, for instance, trapezius muscle is absolutely fine.

13. Have a hot shower before the race starts to get your muscles warmed up.

* Do not do a run warm up. It does not make a lot of sense at 5.00 a.m. if it's going to be a good 7 or 8 hours before you're actually putting on your running shoes for real.

14. Try to get a hot shower after the swim. It gets rid of the salt/slime, but also is a reward for your efforts so far. It's something to look forward to during the swim.

15. Reward yourself during the bike. What is your favorite snack? If it's a doughnut, then carry one with you as a reward for getting to mile 56 mile/mile 80/mile 100 whatever. If you feel like you need a reward every 10 miles, then get off your bike to go the loo, stretch your legs etc. i.e.: you control the race. It must not be allowed to control you. You're in charge, not it.

16. If you are a coffee fan, then make up a flask of black coffee with several spoonfuls of sugar and leave it in T1 or T2 and have a cup. It not only acts as a reward but also peps you up for the next few miles.

17. If it's hot during the race, think how tough it is for all of your race rivals, but not for you, because you have trained for exactly these conditions.

18. If it's cold and wet and windy during the race, think how tough it is for all your race rivals but not for you, because you have trained for exactly these conditions.

19. Forget 17 and 18 because you do not have any race rivals. Be prepared to be beaten by a Granny with a shopping basket on a "sit up and beg" bike. The only think that matters is You getting to the finish line. Focus on you and do something about your race. You can't control anybody else's race, just yours.

16 Reward yourself after the bike. Grab a hot shower, it will take 5 minutes max and you will more than make this time up on the run because you will feel so good. You are trying to fool your body into thinking you have had a seven-hour sleep as opposed to a 7-hour bike ride and that you are now ready for a wee jog.

17. Practice Swimming the distance in the pool. In fact do the 5K Swimathon in March. This is a great physiological plus. You will then know that on race day you have already covered more than the race distance.

18. Practice open water swims and get up to one hour done in the water.

19. Dress for a bike ride for the bike section. You may have bought a very snazzy pair of trunks and a very thin vest that shows off your golden tan, but you are going to do a 112-mile on a bike, so dress appropriately. You will probably be cold for the first hour of the ride if you are competing your Ironman race in the British Isles - why not use arm warmers?

20. Do not attempt to take food and drink for the whole 112 miles of the ride, otherwise your bike will weigh the same as a Sherman Tank. If the first feed station is at mile 20, then just take food and drink for 25 miles. Have you practiced taking food and drink with one hand from a Marshall at a roadside? Thought not, so get off your bike (again, see it as a reward) and take what you need to get you to the next feed station.

21. Not withstanding 20, squirrel away an emergency energy bar in your puncture pouch underneath your seat.

22. Learn to eat and drink plenty on bike training runs. If you train sensibly at low speed and you are eating and drinking enough, then your 50/60/70 mile training rides should not see you crawling over your back door on your hands and knees.

23. Build up to a 5-week cycle. * Week 1 - swim the distance during the week in 2 or 3 sessions, plus one bike ride, plus one run i.e.: you can have up to 3 days off that week. * Week 2 - cycle the distance in 2 or 3 sessions, plus one swim, plus one run. * Week 3 - run the distance in 2 or 3 sessions, plus one swim and one bike. * Week 4 - this is a reward/rest week. Just have one swim, one bike, and one run * Week 5 - the biggest week so far. Do the race distance inside 7 days. Make sure this week coincides with an easy family/work week. Get a "week 5" in at least 4 to 6 weeks before the main event. You should however, still be doing a 60 or 70 miler 2 to 3 weeks before the event.

24. You will run the chance of injury if you persist in long runs after long bikes. You are training for a long swim followed by a long bike, followed by a long jog/walk on race day only.

25. GETTING TO THE FINISH LINE IS WINNING THE RACE.

26. Do the three-day Ironman organized by the Triangle Club in May, again it's a physiological plus. You will of course be under prepared for this, but you must learn how to suffer.

27. Adapt your long sessions for suitable days in your calendar, but it is sometimes absolutely positively essential to go out and do a long ride in appalling weather. After all you cannot pick your weather for race day. You must be prepared for every conceivable condition that may afflict you on race day.

28. Finishing the Ironman is 65% physical preparation, 30% mental preparation and 5% luck. You need a little bit of luck, but sometimes the more sensibly you train the luckier you get.

29. Do some short races earlier in the season. You will do surprisingly well coming off a long training regime.

30. Although you can't train long and hard with speed work (because you will just break down and get injured or get a cold) don't throw out the speed work altogether. Why not throw in a week of speed sessions in all three sports so that you know your training will be short and sharp and you will be in the shower several hours ahead of schedule.

31. You stand more chance of getting a cold than of getting injured. Take cod liver oil, a multi vit and/or Elagen Sport. Do not try anything you don't trust. You could do a lot worse than simply eating 5 bits of fruit/vegetable daily. The answer to you getting to that elusive finish line does not lie in a box of pills but inside your head - and heart.

32. Cut out the mult vits 24 hours before the race, they will just make you need to go the loo a lot more on race day.

33. Carry a loo roll in your kit bag on race day.

34. You will be convinced in the week leading up to race day that you are coming down with the lurgy/dengi fever/hong kong flu. This feeling is normal. This is simply a case of Rampant Race Paranoia.

35. You will be very tired for up to a week before race day. Again this is entirely normal, your body does not want to use any extra energy or go up the stairs at work. It is already trying to save all necessary energy for race day. Your body and mind are a lot smarter than you think they are.

36. Get your bike sorted out early in the year. It doesn't have to make Lance Armstrong green with envy, it just has to be comfortable. * Don't sacrifice Comfort for Potential Speed. * Your aim is to get to the FINISH LINE, not break a world record.

37. Do you need a new pair of running shoes? They say you should replace them every 500 miles. Get them well worn in before race day.

38. Who loves you? Can you get them to the race site? You will get an indescribable lift by seeing them after the swim, during the bike and the run and especially on the finish line. It's as much their victory as yours, when you cross that finish line.

39. On race day, make a game plan, stick to it.

40. Have game plan no. 2, 3, 4 & 5 up your sleeve if you need it. Be prepared to adapt, adopt and improve on race day. Go with the flow. Conditions may be different to your training, these are outside your control.

41. Err on the side of caution, always keep something in reserve. Do not get sucked into a macho "race". You have no idea if the plonker passing you at mile 2 on the bike has any more experience of doing an Ironman than you have.

42. YOU WILL DO WHATEVER IT TAKES TO GET TO THE FINISH LINE (Repeat this line 100 times after school)

43. You cannot win the race during the first 5 mins of the swim, but you can lose it, take it easy, keep the breathing under control and get into a routine.

44. In the swim, all you have to do is swim 1 more minute; on the bike ride all you have to do is cycle 5 more miles; on the run all you have to do is jog one more mile i.e.: give yourself realistic bite sized targets when the going gets tough. Don' t think of the enormity of what lies ahead of you, think of what you can do at this very moment during the race to control your destiny. All you need is one more stroke, one more spin and one more stride.

45. Eat whatever you like, whenever you like, during your training; the odd glass of wine after training will not do you any harm either. As important as swim/bike/run, is rest and especially sleep. Go to bed on the same day you got up.

46. Get to the GYM - its enjoyable and you need a strong back and a strong set of ABS during the second half of the race.

47. You have to be selfish to train for and to complete an Ironman - remember that and recognize that fact and apologize to your loved ones in advance.

48. If you have anything left in the tank, pour it out gradually from mile 20 on the walk/jog.

49. Smile as you cross the finish line and thank your family/toy boy for all their support, then have a good cry to yourself.

50. Do not think about training for 3 weeks, or racing for 6. Reward yourself. Get back to Normal. Do not feel guilty about not training. This is what you trained for........

51. Just remember, no one ever said it would be easy.

Posted by Erin 9:57 AM 0 comments

Why?
Thursday, June 21, 2007

There is one question that I get most often when people learn that I'm training to swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles, and run a marathon all in one day: Why?

There are all sorts of undertones that come with this question: "You must be crazy" is most common. Others include, "How are you going to do that?", " Why would you put yourself through something like that?" or, "I don't think I could/would ever do that and so, perhaps, no one should."

I've covered the variations on that question with a variety of people, and mostly the answer I give is the one I explained on day one of this incredible journey.

Recently, though, a friend posed a much better, more insightful question to me: "What about this could you possibly enjoy?"

I'm well aware that on this blog, I complain. A lot. I complain about being sore. I complain about being scared. I complain about having no time for myself or anyone else. I complain that it's too hot, too cold, or too windy. I complain that I didn't run/bike/swim fast enough, or enough, period.

I do this for a few reasons. It's how I cope. It's the kind of person I am (you'll rarely, if ever, see me waxing all Mary Poppins or Pollyanna about much of anything). And, frankly, it's cathartic.

But there are unbelievably enjoyable things involved in attempting an Ironman. Some are "wow am I glad that's over with and I survived" type of enjoyable. Others are of the "I honestly can't believe how lucky I am to be right here, right now" variety.

So, to answer that question, which I've given loads of thought to lately, here's my list of what I love so far about the process of Ironman:

Marking time not by dates or seasons, but by workouts and how I have to dress for them

That I intimately know, and like, the fresh-clean/chlorine smell of the Y's women's locker room -- it, for some strange reason, is a comforting smell;

Knowing that each day I have a goal to meet, and that if I meet enough of them, it will inevitably pay off;

Knowing that although my clothes are fitting differently, I don't care because I feel fit and because I am strong (and because eventually, my body will be back to normal);

That I now consider a 3-hour workout "light" and an hour of working out practically a "rest day;"

Knowing that my body is capable of spending seven-and-a-half hours on a bike, and doing a sprint race less than 12 hours later;

Seeing deer, turkeys, foxes, moles, a just-born baby calf, and so many beautiful landscapes from outside the confines of a car...in the fresh winter, spring, and summer air;

That I intrinsically and intimately know just how far one mile is, and that it feels a whole lot farther in water than on land;

My new, limited-edition wetsuit that's not only really cute, but benefits the Susan G. Komen Foundation;

My routine of lounging in the hot tub and reading a magazine before swim workouts at the Y;

Finishing a long bike, salt and sweat coating my face and sun having kissed (or sometimes made out with) my arms and legs, feeling exhausted and excited and tough all at once because I went that far – and even better, a shower and nap or relaxing, fun night afterwards.

The melodic sound of lap swim at the pool.

The predictable, rhythmic stroke-breathe-stroke-exhale pattern of swimming laps.

The way my legs feel running off the bike, like two columns of bricks, and that I know if I just suffer through and shuffle along long enough, they’ll soon feel like they’re supposed to again.

That on September 9th, I'll be able to a) show my family and friends that I'm not crazy, and b) to share the magic of this thing called Ironman, that so captivated me, with all of them -- all of them who are planning to travel here to support me and allow me to lean on them through what promises to be the longest, toughest day of my life to date.

That regardless of how September 9th goes -- regardless of if I don't make it in in under 17 hours; or don't make the swim cutoff, the bike cutoff, or the half-marathon cut-off; regardless of if my body cramps up and/or shuts down; or I blow too many tires to count -- regardless, I love knowing that I will be one of only 30,000 people worldwide to even attempt this race this year. I will be in the less than .000005 percentage of the population to put in these hours, to give up my early mornings, nights out with friends, and holidays with my family in an attempt to accomplish this.

And because I know I can -- I can pick out a number of miles, or a spot on the map, and with enough GU and water I can get there on my very own. I can set my mind to do something -- even something as huge as a 1.5 mile swim or a 22-mile run or a 120-mile bike ride -- and get it done.

Finally, I love that, even though from my point of view -- smack dab in the middle of this -- tackling the Ironman has seemed almost impossible at times, but that I have learned to take little baby steps along the way -- a one-hour spin here and 20 minute swim there, learning to clip in to my bike pedals without falling over, or that my hands need to enter the water pinkie-first -- that have gotten me to this point where I know that I am strong, and I most definitely can.

Posted by Erin 1:45 PM 2 comments