Sometimes, Life Takes You Places

There is no nice way to say this: this morning's run blew chunks. I was really pooped.  I don't know if it was a thy-low or I'm tired from two weeks of racing capped off by an AWESOME group ride yesterday (despite the wind we still averaged almost 20mph - front group 20, back group 19.5-19.8). 

Either way, it sucked.

When I'm tired I usually push through it.  I tell myself if I really, truly feel bad I'll do one mile and come home.  Sometimes that's one mile total; sometimes that's one mile out and back.   (Today it was the latter.)  I've mentioned the summer I had my surgery ad nauseum - you know, the one where I just got up one morning and said, "no matter what I do I'm still going to feel bad, so I may as well train."  Well, my friend Becky put it even better today: "Even on a bad run day I feel good to have gotten out of bed."  I'm still exchausted, but I'm exhausted with 2 more miles in the bank.

There's a lot of my life that's in flux right now.  Depending on where I get into school, I may end up where I am or another part of town, or another state.  I didn't go through this for undergrad - I went to a hometown college while I worked full-time.  So this is a new experience for me.

Life takes us a lot of places.  Some of them we expect; some of them we don't.  Another great point Becky got me thinking about was that, sometimes training (like life) is not so much about the destination as it is the journey.

This is the group from yesterday's ride.  I love these guys.  I hope if I have to move I find cycling buddies I like this much.

Ironman CDA, Knowing When to Quit, and Representing the Underestimated

It's funny some times how the experiences of others can teach me more about myself than my own experiences ever do.

I'll start a few days ago, with a pre-weekend blog. I had a bad week of spells this week, and I had a conversation with my Wasband about it, quite by accident. It was something like, bla bla bla, I've only biked twice and ran twice this week, and one run was more like a walk, bla bla bla. He thought it was so awesome that I kept training through my various illnesses. I basically said what's so noble about it, anyway? The honest answer to that question is nothing.

But first - CDA.

A number of people I know and love were racing yesterday at Ironman CDA. One of them was the CFL Tri Club coach, who pulled off a very impressive 13ish time (that was his 2nd IM and he trained for it while coaching nearly 200 athletes); one of them was IronD, trying to qualify for Kona and finishing in 12 hours and change, effectively PRing at the IM distance TO THE TUNE OF AN HOUR. Two of them were a couple getting married this summer, who came in within 30 seconds of each other, both finishing in about 14.5 hrs.

And one of them had a story that wasn't so numerically impressive, but her story stands out the most in my mind for a number of reasons. This particular athlete is not trying to qualify for anything, or coach anyone, or become certified in every exercise possible. She's not trying to win first place, or become the next Heather Fuhr. She's just trying to have a good time. And THAT is the first thing that stands out, because that's truly what the majority of us are trying to do. When she managed to come down with a really severe cold just before CDA, she still started. And, though she made it through the swim and into the bike, after struggling for some time on the bike, she decided to DNF herself.

Why, might you ask, do I find this so impressive, especially in comparison to the results I saw from other friends and aquaintances competing at CDA this year? Well, because she is the best example of a well-rounded athlete and WHOLE PERSON that I can imagine. Let's face it, most of us can't be elite , and few of us can be excellent without sacrificing our lives to the sport. Here is what she said - and this pretty much sums it up. Her husband had once reminded her of how Michael Jordan played a championship game with the flu, and during the toughest part of the race, she recalled his comment. And then she thought:

"The difference was that, Michael Jordan was playing in the championship....I was doing just another race in a long line of races.

Michael Jordan was also making millions of dollars a year to do exactly that.

I was doing this for fun.

I was not having fun."

And this means something to me because . . .
I continually push myself into oblivion for the sake of finishing a race or reaching a goal. Then, if I don't reach the goal or finish the race, I am depressed for days, or even weeks. I spend countless hours crying to myself - literally and metaphorically - because my training hours are lower than they're supposed to be, or because I'm not training as hard as all the other athletes I know. When I was on the run at Florida Half Ironman, and I knew hyponatremia was in the cards for me, or when I was running Philly, underdressed, in 39-degree rain, with a sinus infection and ended up almost missing my first, flirst-class flight home because I had to crawl under the covers with a fever for hours after the race with what was presumably mild hypothermia, I SHOULD have quit. Qutting is not giving up. It's more like hitting the pause button.

Like Tea said, this is supposed to be FUN. That's why I started doing it.

While everyone was busy training and competing at CDA this week, I was trying to relax and rest, because my "little spell" has developed into the nausea and the fatigue I've experienced on and off for the past 5 or 6 years. A sit-down with The Boss is in the books once he returns from CDA, because I hit maybe 4 of my planned 12 training hours this week. In the mean time, I tried to schedule an appointment with my MD, but he wasn't available until today,and I can't afford the time away from work to drive 50 miles round trip to see him. If I still feel yucky, I will have to try to find a new doctor in my area, but even that is quite a waste of time - they've tested me ad nauseum and found what they're going to find, so there's nothing else they can do but tweak my meds and there's nothing else I can do but take them regularly and try to eat and sleep well and exercise regularly.

I have to be honest. I feel a little lost this season. I feel a little "off." Like I can't quite pull it together. Like there are all these signs telling me I can't be a triathlete. Like my body and mind are going all different directions and I can't figure out how to bring them back together. My typical response to that kind of feeling is to fight harder, but the only way I'm going to get anywhere this time around is to stop fighting. I was told by a professional last week that the mental and emotional stress I am putting on myself to try and make every single workout is only going to make my body sicker.

First, I have to get rid of the stress. Then, I have to resume ANY KIND OF activity so that I can maintain a healthy level of endorphins AND fitness. I have a sprint tri on Sunday, and I am certain that I can handle it - if not PR. But I was advised to look at that race - and all my upcoming races - as long, slightly-more-rewarding-than-average workouts. Because the pushing-myself-to-the-breaking-point shit has GOT to end. I need do what I intended to do, this season and keep doing it EVERY season: the best I can. And by the best I can, I mean the best I can without injuring myself or making myself ill. For example, very early morning workouts are often hard for me to make with my sleep issues. I MUST have one morning every week where my body can sleep as long as it needs until it wakes up ON ITS OWN. That means I may not be able to train at the levels or times of day at which a coach would like me to train - or it may mean I need a coach even more than the average triathlete.

Fine. I am not the average triathlete.

But that doesn't mean I quit. And it doesnt mean I force myself to fit into someone else's training schedule. I am going to do this on MY terms. Because it's MY body. MY season. MY hobby.

HOBBIES ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FUN. It's TIME TO GET BACK TO BASICS.

Next big race is Nationals in September. I have to buy my plane ticket and send my tri gear out before then. I'm not forgoing Nationals, or Miami Man in November. I've got two and a half more months before Nationals, and I'm already trained at LEAST enough to finish without dying or embarrassing anyone. Will I PR or break records? Maybe. But that's not the point. I need to learn to be proud of myself for doing whatever it is I can do, whether that's crossing the finish line, beating the person next to me, or just showing up for the damn thing. And Miami Man is going to become a celebratory race for me to cap off the end of a long season. I'm gathering a group of friends to celebrate birthdays and the race after I compete. And I need to be smart and take care of my body BEFORE, DURING and AFTER the race - because each of these races are one race out of many, but my life - my health - are one out of one.

Now I understand what someone asked me several weeks ago when they called me, concerned about me, asking me if I was doing this because I felt I had something to prove to myself or to anyone else. Tea presented herself unknowingly as the perfect example an athlete who is mature and secure enough to put her sport and life, strengths and limiters, all into their proper context. Do you think SHE whined and moaned after she DNF'd at CDA? Absolutely not. She KNEW she had done the right thing. And that finally made it clear to me that driving myself into the ground doesn't make me noble, strong, tough, heroic or admirable.

Au contraire, mon cheri. It makes me immature, insecure and foolish.

Just by getting to Nationals, I have accomplished a giant goal. My place on that roster is enough. Because my name being up there proves that anyone can do it. I stand for all the weekend-warrior, back-of-pack athletes for whom a shot at a national championship or special award is nearly impossible. I'm the athlete people look at and think there's no way she completes marathons and triathlons! I represent the underestimated.

And you know what? If that's ALL I EVER accomplish in this sport, I have done more than I, or anyone else, expected me to do.

Now, as the Grand Marshall of the Mardi Gras parade down in N'awlins is honored to say every year to officially kick off the festivites: l'aissez les bon temps rouler!

Let the good times roll.

Ok, How About a FUN ONE?

I blame this on Wes and Able. It looked fun, and Ye Olde Blogge was in need of something FUN.

1. How would you describe your running 10 years ago?

Basic. I did gymnastics in elementary school, figure skated in middle school and high school, and ran in high school. At 18, I was training to go into the armed forces and hadn't run much since high school. I was about 20 lbs overweight (I'd kill to be that size now), and knew I had to run 2 miles in less than 22 minutes. My goal was to shoot for the men's time cutoff, 20 minutes, so I ran 5-7 days per week, 2-4 miles per day, taking myself from a 14-minute mile to a 10-minute mile in a few months with no injuries. I never thought I'd be capable of a marathon.

2. What is your best and worst run/race experience?

Florida Half Ironman. Best because I was so lucky just to get there given my health and undertraining. Best because I toughed it out and proved how great my endurance is. Worst because I was too slow for the run cutoff - my nutrition had been failing me for months, and, looking back now, I could have figured that out months before and saved myself. There was so much going on in my life during my training that bumped my training to the side, physically and mentally.

4. What is the best or worst piece of advice you've been given about running?

The worst is the "blanket advice" - e.g., don't run every day, take only one day of rest per week, a heavier runnier needs a stability shoe, don't get too much sodium in your diet, if you're not making your workouts then you're making excuses. There is no one-size-fits-all piece of advice, and the best coaches and mentors realize this. Best piece of advice, though? From my best friend Karime, before one of my big races, when she told me: "Run like you mean it, you silly bitch."

5. Tell us something surprising about yourself that not many people would know.

I'm very obsessive and orderly, but I hate order and schedules. If I don't have a routine, I tend to do nothing at ALL - but getting me to actually stick to a schedule is nearly impossible. Wise is the man or woman who can get me into a routine that fools my little brain into thinking I'm really "winging it." There's just so much JUNK that comes up in my life that there MUST be flexibility, but if there's no routine, forget it - I'm going to sit there drooling like the brainsuckers came after me.

See? Not very exciting. I don't really have a whole lot going on behind the scenes. But a lot more fun than listening to me whine, yes?

:-0

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you

This is MUCH more important than my PR.

This is about a huge thanks that's owed to all the support that all of the triathletes around the world show each other. Over the weekend, a group of you tri-bloggers did something really amazing.

This is the REAL reason I tri. Right here.

For those of you who don't know Duane Newton, he is quite possible The World's Greatest Sherpa. Ever. He flies all over the country, not only for his own races, but for all his friends' races. And he's not just a Sherpa for triathlon. He's the best support crew for anything in your life. You race, you get divorced, you cry, you laugh - something great happens in your life, something bad happens in your life - he is there. Every step of the way.

So how do the rest of the bloggers thank him?

They get together and surprise him with a Cervelo. A beautiful, brand-new, amazing tri bike. Go visit Duane's blog. Now. He is amazing. And so are all the athletes around the country who support each other.

For Duane and for myself, I thank you all.

It may be an individual sport, but none of us is really doing it alone.

Rankings Spanking

So, today I'm renewing my USAT membership (for two years this time, thank you very much), and I decide to pull my overall rankings for 2007. Now, this is kind of silly, because I'm only in my second year in this sport and my third year into racing of any kind. But I figure, why the hell not? Maybe it'll give me a good idea of what my rankings look like compared to some real triathletes.

At first, I figure it's going to suck, because only 3 out of my 5 attempted races were sanctioned, 1 was DNF'd, and I was in the bottom 2/3 of all of them. But it isn't as bad as I expect: I placed 2930 out of 3090 in the country in my age group/gender. My coach is ranked in the 90's in her division/gender; my race mentor, about 75. I'm in the 50's. So, it seems clear that the jump to the next level is not terribly far - only about 25 points or so.

Until I look at all the women in the state. In Florida, I'm 1967/2174, while IronDawn is 331/2174. Ouch. I have a long way to go.

Bring the pain!!

Big Up to Everyone Who Raced This Season

This post has nothing to do with me. It's a WELL-DESERVED shout-out to all my pals who raced this season.

Just this weekend, Tea completed the Denver Marathon after a lengthy season of tri training. My friends Chris and Heather did their (1st for Chris, 2nd for Heather) sprint tris - the Emerald Coast Triathlon in Panama City Beach, FL. (Trying to get them blogging . . .) BOTH of them beat the time of my first sprint even though my training was far more intense and structured (those RATS!) Natalie is getting ready for New York, a bunch of the V-Teamers and my friend Mike Prince tried (some finished) what was a heartbreaking, record-making year for LBCM. Andy is training for IMFL, Duane is knocking out races as he knocks down the numbers on the scale. Jayme made her Ironman debut. Todd made his triathlon debut (please don't give up, Todd!)

To anyone else I forgot (and I'm sorry if I did, and I'm searching for more race plans/results now), I just want to tell you all congratulations for pulling through. It's been a long season for every single one of us. On the way, you have battled illnesses, held down jobs, entered doctoral programs, raised children, found out that you're becoming parents, struggled with your demons, and crossed the finish line multiple times. Through good training weeks and bad training weeks, through laughter and tears, comedy and tragedy, you've persevered. You've pulled muscles, missed goals, and learned more about yourselves along the way than you probably really wanted to know. And, as it comes to a close, it's nice to see all of you do well for yourseleves. Be proud of all you have (mentally and physically) accomplished!

Mucho love! Here's to the close of the season. May you all make almost as many PR's as you've made friends!

"Despite is so minimizing" - a guest comment from my girlfriend Shay . . .

For those of you who don't know, a big part of my sports obsession is golf. Before I got into long races and doing triathlons, I would typically run a 5k on a Sunday and follow it up with 18 holes, or do yoga and hit the range. This is partly because I worked at The Golf Channel on and off for almost 7 years.

The last time I worked there, I worked with a petite spitfire named Shay, who continously kept a smile on my face with her rebellious antics, outspoken optimisim and comedic gestures. Shay just read the version of my race reports that I posted on MySpace, and what she had to say was so touching, inspiring and relevant that I had to share it with all of you.

"When I was reading your " here's what was great about the race" list, I kept thinking, WTF is she saying DESPITE for... why minimize her efforts, her successes, her tenacity...

Despite is so minimizing, Meggan Ann. I mean, to me, it is. You DID these things...You COULD say, I did THIS despite racism, and I did THAT despite the fact that I'm small, or a woman, or a student, or a wife, a cat owner, a blonde...whatever. BUT- YOU DID THEM. YOU DID! If we look at the statistics of obesity, laziness, complacency and normalcy, you have and continue to far exceed 90% of everyday people. Fug if I ever see people taking walks much less being the athlete you are.

You did them. You chose to. No one forces you. YOU DO them...and you follow through. There is power in that WITHOUT your "despites".

I mean, I could say, I beat cancer DESPITE that it could have killed me. But that gives the cancer power. I BEAT THE FUGGING CANCER has so much more in it, don't you think?

YOU RACE...YOU RUN...YOU BIKE, YOU SWIM- YOU DON'T give up.YOU FUGGING ROCK- with or without despites, this is plenty powerful. And you deserve to acknowledge that and have it be acknowledged.

Give credit where credit is due, and this week, my friend, it is all for you!

HUGZ! I'm sittin on the sidelineZ watchin your crazy LegZ... LMAO!"

After reading this, I started to think . . . . no, believe . . . . that Shay is right. I can live my entire life thinking, saying, feeling that DESPITE my weight, injuries and health I did x, y, or z. I can think, "Despite a 5-minute slower time, I finished." But it really does remove a lot of the power from the achievment. I mean, sure, I could say 'there are so many people who've completed 1/2 marathons or Olympic triathlons within 10 or 15 minutes of my time, without any injuries, weather conditions, illnesses, and with more training - and it wasn't even their first mid-distance race.' But even that removes the power from my accomplishment, because I shouldn't have to compare myself to someone else to feel accomplished.

I do what I do for me. I run, swim and bike for ME. Not just despite or in spite of what is going on, but because of it. It makes me get present, live strong, feel healthy, feel NORMAL, and has made me lots of great friends. Yes, it helps me deal with my multiple illnesses, injuries, eating disorder and stress. But even if those things didn't exist, I don't ever acknowledge that I'm out there . . . . every day . . . . trying to accomplish great things. With or without those limitations, just the accomplishment itself deserves some applause.

So, this post is dedicated to everyone on the forums, everyone on the RaceAthlete network, everyone on blogspot, who is training DESPITE some great physical or emotional limitation. Know that what you are doing, not in spite of or despite your conditions, but on its own, is amazing and inspiring. The fact that you have extra battles to fight only makes it moreso.

WEEK 9, DAY 1: Lots of yoga and hugs for a tri-friend

Life is boring when you're not really working out. Well, I'm working out, but I'm not really training. I'm doing tons of yoga. I did 4 classes last week plus a swim. My goal is to do 1-2 yoga classes this week, get a massage, at least one ride and a swim, and attempt 2-3 runs. Of course, this all depends on how my "trial run" tomorrow goes. By the way, I have officially lost 10 pounds. (Don't get too excited. I gained 25 when I got sick, so this doesn't mean I really lost anything, it just means I only gained 15.)

While I am stuck in the never-neverland of healing, which is populated with foam rollers, The Stick, massages, ice packs and limps, one of my great triathlon inspirations, Jayme Murray, tackled her first Ironman this weekend. I have yet to hear her full report on the race. I know she did not finish, but I also know she faced a lot of hardships and was sick for the swim as well as the first half of the bike. Jayme is one of the people I'm glad to have virtually met through the vast network of tri-bloggers. She reminds me of me . . . but better. She's a lot further in her training than I am, but her purpose and her dedication are so solid and her enjoyment of the experience is so clear that it is nearly impossible to read one of her blogs without being inspired. I hope one day we get to do a race together.

If you read this, Jayme, I am sending you a giant hug and looking forward to hearing your report.