Shut up and Tri

I have a part-time job working with a race timing company that times local road races and triathlons. I worked with them this past weekend at the first triathlon/duathlon of the season. I wanted to be psyched to be there. I wanted to observe hundreds of triathletes as they set up their transition areas, storing tips in my memory to recall for future events. I wanted to be jealous that I wasn't participating in a mass swim start. I wanted to feel like I couldn't wait for my turn to participate in such an awe-inspiring event.

I wanted to feel all of those things, but instead I just felt disinterested. Perhaps I was a bit overwhelmed at it all, but that word evokes too much emotion. I was more like "meh, this has no appeal to me." My first sprint triathlon of the season is THIS SUNDAY. I really need to get on board with this whole triathlon thing if I'm going to do it. I'm currently signed up for 5 full triathlons, and 2 triathlon relays doing the swim leg only. That's a lot of races to be signed up for when I'm just feeling "meh" about it all. I should be chanting "I think I can! I think I can!" but perhaps this book cover is more appropriate...

I may have mentioned in every other blog post I've ever written that the Timberman 70.3 half ironman distance triathlon that I'm scheduled to do in August is completely intimidating. That's nothing new. What's new is that now it's only 3 months away, and I'm just as intimidated as I was the day I signed up when I knew I'd have plenty of time to get ready for this thing. I'm not ready. I don't even feel like I'm on track to eventually be ready. I even emailed the race director to find out what the time limit is on the course to be considered an official finisher. It's an honest fear, and it's possible that I won't finish in the 8.5 hour time limit.

This self-doubt is now creating a snowball effect because it's starting to affect my workouts, which then just leads to more (justified) self-doubt. During my swim on Monday night, I felt fine. I like swimming. I was even in a lane by myself which is my favorite thing in life right now. I was only about halfway through my workout when out of nowhere, Sylvia (the negative voice in my head) says matter of factly, "Why are you bothering to swim? You're not going to be able to do Timberman anyway." And there was absolutely no fight on my side whatsoever. I came to the end of the lane, stopped my watch and got out of the pool. Thanks for the advice, Sylvia, let's go sit in the hot tub. I basically have an entire self-sustaining industry operating in my head: one side is manufacturing bullshit, and the other side is buying it.

On Tuesday, I rode my bike to work for the first time this year, which caused my lows to get lower and my highs to get higher. I diagnosed myself with Timbermanic Depression, and thought that was so funny that I finally felt a little bit better. It's a tough bike route, mostly because there aren't bike lanes on any of the roads I take. I go back and forth between riding on the narrow shoulder which is filled with sand, gravel, or broken glass, or riding in the road which causes angry motorists to beep their horns at me and come within inches of hitting me. It's an absolute joy! So it was during one of these harrowing stretches that I started to have the imaginary conversation in my head with my coach, breaking the news to her that I won't be doing Timberman. But then I'd hit a good stretch of slight downhill with a wide shoulder and not many cars, and I'd be back in the game!

So, what's the point of all of this? I need to be more vigilant about keeping Sylvia away. She is a subtle foe. I need to be prepared for her unannounced visits, and I need to be ready to fight back. I always want everything to be easy. During a performance evaluation with a previous employer, I was asked what I would like to be different about my job. My answer, "I don't want to change anything, I just want it all to be easier." That's pretty much how I feel now about this triathlon business. Since the voice I should be listening to is my coach's voice, I will share her words with you: "It’s not as bad as it looks. I promise. The overwhelming part goes away with time and experience. It’s like anything else – the first time you wore high heels (bad example, I know but my brain isn’t functioning right now) it was probably overwhelming as well. If it was easy more than (less than) 1% of the population would do it, right? You’re doing it. And that is awesome."

Now that I know the alternative is high heels, I am ALL IN for triathlon training!