It's Tuesday. 5 days until the big Beach Blast Olympic Distance Triathlon and Saturday Sept. 12 is just sitting there, a day at the end of the week I usually look forward to scaring the bejesus out of me!
I know I am trained up. God knows I've put in the hours, my muscles have suffered, my massage therapist has gotten richer and my family, friends, training partners and coaches (Jules, Christopher, Hicks etc.) have tolerated enough moodiness, training complaints and questions to be as ready as I'll ever be for the race to be here.
But here's where the mental training of triathlons comes into play. You start thinking of all the things that could go wrong. What training didn't I do? What if I just put in a few more hours on the bike? Why am I not any faster at running? What if I give up? .7/25/6.2 is gonna take me a while. What if I'm last and I psych myself out and I just quit! Then the other voice -- you're not a quitter, you've done the training, now just go out there and do it or else all the training will be for naught!
Some people look forward to crossing the finish line and the beer. I look forward to crossing the finish line and telling the monkey on my back -- the fat girl I've always been -- we did it again! We moved our asses and we just finished another triathlon and this time a longer one than ever before!
Oh she fights me the whole way and I by no means have become the skinny girl I seek, but I am healthier than I've ever been and I constantly have to remind myself of that and that if I give up, if I psych myself out it's the same old story I've been repeating my whole life.
She crept up on me yesterday during a easy breezy Labor Day 5K. I thought it would be a nice way to kick of the so-called taper week as I rest my body for race day. One last brisk 3 miler with a few hundred extra training partners.
I was pacing myself and going at about a 12 minute mile clip. Well around the 1.5 mile mark this race walker caught up to me, I could see her out of the corner of my eye, arms flapping violently, long stride, just cruising along next to me and behind me a bit, but pretty much holding my pace. I was horrified! I cannot let a race walker pass me, I thought! What will that say!???
I went through all the emotions and just keep my pace with the occasional bursts of speed to try and loose her. I couldn't! Not even up the hill heading into mile 3! Needless to say she held my pace and was right behind me the whole way and as we approached the finish she strode up next to me and said she was going to sprint for it and so we did. I finished maybe 30 seconds ahead of her, she was in her 60s at least and told me after we crossed the finish line that she does marathons and thanked me for helping her hold a fast pace.
Several other runners even came up to us and remarked on both of our pace and said we kicked there butt...I still today can't get past the fact that a race walker was right there with me!
All the negative thoughts kept bubbling up, you're too fat, you're too slow, what are you thinking competing in tris if you can't even beat a race walker? But then today it hit me -- I am running 3 and sometimes 6 or more miles flat out holding a 12 minute mile, no stops (unless I trip, which has been known to happen) no walking, just cranking out miles. I have never been able to do that before, ever! Growing up in school we always had to run a mile for gym class once a year, I was a kid and could never run the whole thing and was always at 15-plus minutes for just a mile!
So maybe I should cut myself some slack. So some bad ass marathon, race walker isn't far behind me! I'm out there doing it and I can call myself a triathlete! Sometimes I wonder if the mental training this sport requires isn't tougher than the physical? So I'll be out there Saturday trying yet again to keep the fat girl monkey off my back, or at least drag her across the finish line!
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