Sylvia vs. The Beath

I don't want this blog to sound like Debbie Downer's Dumping Ground, but I also want to preserve the integrity of its intent: to document my training. If all goes according to plan, my posts will eventually stop sounding whiny and pathetic, but it's important to note that whiny and pathetic is where I am in my training today. Actually, it's more like harshly critical and inept. I've actually named the voice in my head that hates me (if you're new here and/or haven't already figured out that I'm insane, Welcome!) Her name is Sylvia. Earlier this evening, Sylvia was shouting, "You are a stupid fat idiot who can't do anything so why do you even bother trying?" That's the voice that I'm hoping to abolish by the time Timberman 70.3 comes along. Lately she seems to have a firm grip on that megaphone though. The happenings this week were a bit trying, so Sylvia jumped at the chance to criticize.

This past weekend I attended a swim stroke analysis, offered by E3 Training Solutions, the coaching company I hired. Naturally, I was nervous about going. Then I got there, and well, I just got more nervous. I felt fat and out of shape, and my swimming technique sucks, and I'm pretty sure my bathing suit needed a modesty adjustment during my video analysis, but I didn't want to be hoisting & tucking on camera.

When I first filled out my athlete forms with E3, they ask you which of the 3 triathlon sports is your strongest. That was a hard question to answer. I've run way more than either of the other sports, but I know I'm a slow runner, so I didn't feel like I could claim running as my strong sport. I knew it wasn't biking, since I've never ridden more than 20 miles at once, and even my short rides are cautious and slow. I still fall down at stop lights because I forget to unclip my shoes from my pedals, and don't even get me started on how to change a bike tire. Yeah, biking is definitely NOT my strong sport. That leaves swimming. I swam on my high school swim team, which in the world of triathlon pretty much makes me an expert. Swimming is notoriously the weak sport in triathlon for most athletes. By nature of comparison, this makes me a good swimmer. Or so I thought until Sunday. The 200 easy warm up felt like an all out sprint. I was too worried about the person behind me in our lane catching up to me, and I was trying to keep up with the person in front of me. Nothing felt smooth and natural like it does when I swim by myself. Could it be that I get intimidated easily and care about other people's opinions of me? GASP! I thought I learned that lesson (many times) before, but it looks like that character defect has crept back in. I haven't even seen the results of the swim analysis yet, but all I can say so far is thank god it's only January.

I also just recently bought a crap-load of gear. I got a Garmin 910XT, a Powercal heart rate monitor, and a speed & cadence sensor for my bike.

As we've established from the tire changing fiasco, I'm not that great with the whole bike mechanic thing. I tried to set up all my gear tonight, and after 3 hours, a crying fit, and knocking on a neighbor's door for help, I have managed to get none of the 3 new gadgets working. I haven't even taken the Powercal out of the box. I was super impressed with myself for getting the speed & cadence sensor into my bike frame, but that's when all self-sufficiency ceased. I wasn't able to get the cadence magnet onto the crank, because I had to take the pedal off first. Long story short, you can't do this without a pedal wrench. Remember that neighbor I mentioned? That's the 65 year old woman who lives downstairs. She didn't have a pedal wrench. She doesn't even own a bike. She was also in her bathrobe watching TV with all the lights off. In hindsight, that was probably a poor judgement call on my part. Really ANY other neighbor in the building would have been a better bet. Now I know for next time.

I was hoping to at least figure out the watch so I can use it for my swim tomorrow, but that's still charging, and my own internal battery is drained. I think I'll call it a night. At least I'm going to bed feeling like these gadgets are just a few more things I need to learn before I can continue on. Sylvia must have put her megaphone down, for now...