January has been full of set-backs in my ironman training. At times, it seems, I have fallen apart nutritionally and eaten like a starving couch potato. There were missed workouts; times I felt sick and tired or tired and sick. It's hard to tell. There were times, I was ready to throw in the towel and any other linens which confirmed total withdrawal from this journey. I really don't know how I got through all this so far without going belly-up. But I did. I prayed a lot, and I guess my answered prayer was that I was basically just too tired and zoned-in to quit. Maybe being brain-dead with fatigue caused me to default to keep moving forward?
At any rate, I'm still standing - barely. Got in my 10 mile run yesterday - a major milestone. And, this morning I can actually get out of bed and make it to the bathroom without crawling. Good news! My bike miles remain good and my running miles are increasing. I have lost a few rounds in this fight but I have won enough to keep me plodding forward on this wonderful journey. Thanks God.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Monday, January 13, 2014
The Longest Day
Ironman training has been an journey in self-discovery. In some areas I have found myself to be stronger and more resilient than I thought I was. For instance, I found I can hang with a tough indoor workout. I can do an extended strength session even though I dislike strength training. I can become severely discouraged by my slow times in training, yet I can keep going out there again the next day.
But, I have found weakness as well. I tend to let myself off the hook on hard training. It is so much easier to cruise for long periods of time during training rather than push myself. I tend to concentrate too much on my injuries almost as if I am holding on to them in case I fail and need them to hide behind. And, I fear recovery. Consequently, I do very little of it; just going from can to can't regardless of my schedule. Consequently, I often crash and burn and have to take time off. Even then I try to do physical jobs left undone by all the training. Previous recovery days have found me splitting firewood or felling dead trees, or hauling dirt, or building something. Makes me wonder why I am so afraid of complete rest.
Today, so far, I am doing well at taking a full recovery day. This is break-through stuff for me. And it could be growth, and it could be a step-up in my level of commitment. Today, I am committed to getting recovered. This is victory for me in the miles of the journey.
When I think about it; God rested on the seventh day. I don't think He was all that tired, but perhaps it was an example of what would be best for us? What a great journey this is. If I don't make the time cut-offs in my ironman, the journey itself has been worth the price of admission...thank you God.
But, I have found weakness as well. I tend to let myself off the hook on hard training. It is so much easier to cruise for long periods of time during training rather than push myself. I tend to concentrate too much on my injuries almost as if I am holding on to them in case I fail and need them to hide behind. And, I fear recovery. Consequently, I do very little of it; just going from can to can't regardless of my schedule. Consequently, I often crash and burn and have to take time off. Even then I try to do physical jobs left undone by all the training. Previous recovery days have found me splitting firewood or felling dead trees, or hauling dirt, or building something. Makes me wonder why I am so afraid of complete rest.
Today, so far, I am doing well at taking a full recovery day. This is break-through stuff for me. And it could be growth, and it could be a step-up in my level of commitment. Today, I am committed to getting recovered. This is victory for me in the miles of the journey.
When I think about it; God rested on the seventh day. I don't think He was all that tired, but perhaps it was an example of what would be best for us? What a great journey this is. If I don't make the time cut-offs in my ironman, the journey itself has been worth the price of admission...thank you God.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
A Place I Love to Go
It rained all day. Despite my best plans, any training would have to be indoors. The indoor bike ride; not an appealing thought. What to do? Impulse was to get a movie and just piddle through the ride, nice and easy. Then the arm wrestling contest with oneself. This was supposed to be my long ride day. So how could I just do a “soft and easy” when I am supposed to be doing a long ride day?
OK, OK. I reluctantly decided to do a training dvd. This was a new one that I had never done. And, it didn’t look that hard and even if it was, I could just take it easy on the hard parts. I decided to warm up on the bike for five minutes before I turned the training video on. That felt pretty good. Five minutes came quickly. I didn’t want to stop the warm-up. I didn’t. Finally, after a fifteen minute warm-up, I had made a sort of peace with the indoor biking and felt ready to hit “play.”
It was much harder than I thought it would be. Standing climbs, intervals, tempo intervals; my heart rate was moving higher and higher. I wondered could I hold this? Can I hang on? Somewhere about the middle of the fifty-three minute session, a switch must have got flipped, and I was in. Something had clicked-in in my mind, heart, and body. I had stepped up and stepped past myself. Now I held the higher heart rate, the harder climbs, the higher tempos without feeling on the edge and about to lose grip. I had been counting down the minutes to the end of session but now I was hating to see it end.
This was not my first time to experience this track-switching to a different zone. However, it never fails to thrill me. That is a place I love to go; where limits are transgressed, walls are broken down, and the self extended past perception. And if this all be true, then what else. How far can we hope? Maybe not pushing myself enough is limiting the distance of my hopes. Perhaps, God has it all waiting for us; waiting for use to look beyond the horizon of our perceptions, and in faith believe there is more; in this life and the other.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Strange Feeling for Me
Almost fell in Walmart last night. People were here, there, everywhere, and a quick pivot left me off balance: strange feeling for me. However, earlier in the day I was helping bring a stove we bought in the house and on a step up, the load buckled my knee - backwards. It was all I could do to go down without dropping the brand new stove: strange feeling for me. And I want to do an Ironman? I want to bike 112 miles and get off the bike and run 26 miles on that knee? Serious doubts. How does one handle an unstable knee? How does one deal with the pain all day and half the night? So, to escape the "strange feelings for me," I just retreat to my comfort zone; that is, just keep moving forward; one unstable step after another.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Rescue the Perishing
My motivation was at low tide. All my weaknesses were laid bare and I didn't like the picture. And then there was the down time of Christmas, the departure, at times, from good nutrition; I was tired already. Ready to quit if I just barely got tipped over. I prayed about the possible decision to quit.
My Christmas luncheon was with my 99 year old Mother in the nursing home. We brought her a good Christmas meal and her appetite is still zesty. She loved it. Then some more of my family showed up. The room got crowded and I found myself gravitating toward sitting near my nephew who is signed up for Ironman Lake Placid. The fire in his eyes lit up as mine surely did, as we told of injuries, experiences, hopes, and dreams in endurance sport.
Afterwards, driving home, I had a different slant on my thinking. No big explosions, no aha moments, but I unconsciously set about to continue my training. Three days later, I found that I done some great training, my motivation was back, and I really don't want to quit, if there is even a chance - even if it is a small chance. Perhaps, my nephew was my answered prayer; a confirmation. Perhaps, without his knowledge, he was sent to bring me out and point me up. Perhaps, without my knowledge, I am being used to bring others out and point them up as well?
My Christmas luncheon was with my 99 year old Mother in the nursing home. We brought her a good Christmas meal and her appetite is still zesty. She loved it. Then some more of my family showed up. The room got crowded and I found myself gravitating toward sitting near my nephew who is signed up for Ironman Lake Placid. The fire in his eyes lit up as mine surely did, as we told of injuries, experiences, hopes, and dreams in endurance sport.
Afterwards, driving home, I had a different slant on my thinking. No big explosions, no aha moments, but I unconsciously set about to continue my training. Three days later, I found that I done some great training, my motivation was back, and I really don't want to quit, if there is even a chance - even if it is a small chance. Perhaps, my nephew was my answered prayer; a confirmation. Perhaps, without his knowledge, he was sent to bring me out and point me up. Perhaps, without my knowledge, I am being used to bring others out and point them up as well?
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Against All Odds - Christmas Story
Christmas approaching and as usual for this time of the year: training is in the toilet. Stuff comes out against me like one bad dream after another. My own motivation is tottering, about to fall. The big question comes out time and again like a haunting melody: Why do this anyway?
There are so many "practical" things I could be doing with my time instead of training or resting up from training. Why do this anyway? Do I really want this? And, my asthmas has messed with my breathing lately; my leg is painful to run on; family crisis seems a daily occurrence; Christmas expenses are off the charts, and I feel so out of shape. This whole thing seems to be going on against all odds. Isn't that foolhardy? Perhaps.
But, it is Christmas: a time when Hope was brought into the world to save. And so I go on right now, against all odds "O come all ye faithful;" a child of hope myself.
There are so many "practical" things I could be doing with my time instead of training or resting up from training. Why do this anyway? Do I really want this? And, my asthmas has messed with my breathing lately; my leg is painful to run on; family crisis seems a daily occurrence; Christmas expenses are off the charts, and I feel so out of shape. This whole thing seems to be going on against all odds. Isn't that foolhardy? Perhaps.
But, it is Christmas: a time when Hope was brought into the world to save. And so I go on right now, against all odds "O come all ye faithful;" a child of hope myself.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Who Do I Think I'm Kidding
It doesn't look good for the home team. That was my reply to a loud pop followed wobbling instability in my bad knee. Immediately I tried to brush back the negative thought, "who did I think I'm kidding?" And I remember the scene from "Rocky" in which he is in bed talking to Adrian the night before the big fight. "Who do I think I'm kidding?" he said. "I'm not even in this guy's league."
And who do I think I am kidding? I am in way over my head here too. The ironman is so much bigger than I am; than I am going to be prepared for. Who do I think I'm kidding? I will need to run fifteen minute miles on the run to make the cut-off. I can't do that; not even close. My knee still hurts a little, but the problem is that the injury has really messed with my gait. My run is so clumsy-looking that I try to get my runs in where no one will be watching. An ironman? Who do I think I'm kidding?
My biking is improving. The long rides are getting done, but it is doubtful that I can get my biking up enough to compensate for my ultra slow marathon.
OK, so there is not much of a chance that I will even get to the start of the ironman and even less of chance I will complete it. I have said that I estimate I have only a one in ten chance of completing the ironman. That estimate takes in all the land-mine family issues hanging out there that could blow up under my feet any minute. That takes into account the bad knee which I am not sure will hold up for the long haul. That takes into account for my age, which I don't feel yet, but with the level of training I need to do, I just don't know if age will finally show up.
Listen to me. Who do I think I'm kidding now? This is perfect. Of course the chances are only about ten percent, but if I keep on with the training there is a hundred percent chance I will immensely enjoy this journey. There is not much to lose that won't be lost eventually. If I spend my life trying to save my life, trying to save my effort and disappointment, I will lose the richest moments in life. I will lose my life by trying to save it. And for what? If I try and fail, I have had a great experience, a great journey, a wonderful adventure: I have the knowledge that I did my very best. My best; it is what supporters deserve and God calls me to, and I am not kidding.
And who do I think I am kidding? I am in way over my head here too. The ironman is so much bigger than I am; than I am going to be prepared for. Who do I think I'm kidding? I will need to run fifteen minute miles on the run to make the cut-off. I can't do that; not even close. My knee still hurts a little, but the problem is that the injury has really messed with my gait. My run is so clumsy-looking that I try to get my runs in where no one will be watching. An ironman? Who do I think I'm kidding?
My biking is improving. The long rides are getting done, but it is doubtful that I can get my biking up enough to compensate for my ultra slow marathon.
OK, so there is not much of a chance that I will even get to the start of the ironman and even less of chance I will complete it. I have said that I estimate I have only a one in ten chance of completing the ironman. That estimate takes in all the land-mine family issues hanging out there that could blow up under my feet any minute. That takes into account the bad knee which I am not sure will hold up for the long haul. That takes into account for my age, which I don't feel yet, but with the level of training I need to do, I just don't know if age will finally show up.
Listen to me. Who do I think I'm kidding now? This is perfect. Of course the chances are only about ten percent, but if I keep on with the training there is a hundred percent chance I will immensely enjoy this journey. There is not much to lose that won't be lost eventually. If I spend my life trying to save my life, trying to save my effort and disappointment, I will lose the richest moments in life. I will lose my life by trying to save it. And for what? If I try and fail, I have had a great experience, a great journey, a wonderful adventure: I have the knowledge that I did my very best. My best; it is what supporters deserve and God calls me to, and I am not kidding.
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