Race Week, Really?!

So I sat on the floor last night infront of the pile of race gear, pills, heed, nutrition, sunblock, socks, Vaseline, etc etc wrapping my head (and calming myself) about the race being so close.  Yea, just sitting there.  It felt so far far away when I started training for it back in February.  Ha, jokes on me, cause it’s here.  We’ve been checking the weather more than Al Roker.  Freakin’ out as we see the temperature for Sunday climb.  It’s about 97 degrees right now, you check another site, it tells you 99.  There really isn’t a big difference between 97-99 .  It’s gonna be f’ing hot.  You can’t control it, you can only prepare for it.  And put ice down your pants! Oh believe me, it feels nice.

What I looked like on the floor of my room.

All the talk about heat brings me flash backs of my first (and only) half ironman..PTSD kind of stuff.  It was also in the 90 degrees and it did not go well.  I was slightly traumatized and told myself I would never do an Ironman.  Look at me now.  But I made a promise to myself to train, to prepare and to think differently.  I even surprised myself by sticking to my training plan as much as I did.  There were still hours that weren’t swum, or missed miles on the bike.  I don’t know if it’ll make a difference, nor do I care, what’s done is done. LOUISVILL IS HERE! (typing turrets).  I’ve been told that training for an Ironman is harder than the actual Ironman; I’ll let you know if it’s true, I don’t really believe them.  I trained for this race not on speed, but preparing myself to just keep going.  I’m not fast, but I got my Ironman trot down, even got my speed walking shuffle.  Slow and steady is going to get me to the finish line and it’s the race plan I’m sticking to. The best thing about it being your first, I have no time to beat.  I am nervous, but not about what I can do, but about things that I can’t control.  I have my race plan A, B, C, D and crawling.  I got my nutrition down to the hour. And I apparently need to use the number of times I pee to monitor my hydration; must pee twice during the bike (hopefully no one steals my bike while I’m in the port-o-potty).  I’m prepared, I’ve trained, I am ready.  I rollercoaster between a frat boy LETS DO THIS and a very scared holy crap.

My current status

I leave tomorrow morning for Louisville and that one of hardest thing is doing it without my family there.  They haven’t been to many of my races, but the one they were there for has been my favorite by far.  There are many things I’ll forget about these races, you start to do so many, but one of the few things I’ll keep with me is my sister sprinting the finish line next to me screaming like if I had come in first (far from it).  She’ll be there in spirit and it’ll get me to the finish line, in one way or another she manages to show her incredible support.  But I am blessed with a great training team, even those not doing the race.  Without them, I wouldn’t be doing this race and I wouldn’t have gotten thru a lot these last couple of months.  To them I’m so grateful.  Alright enough mush, I’m becoming a sap, and hopefully the next post will be telling you that I am officially an Ironman.  Actually, it will be.  Next stop, Louisville, Kentucky. ~ AddingMoMiles.

Checklists

As the checklist gets longer and the race inches closer, there are so many thoughts that cross your mind.  Am I ready? As ready as I’m going to be, and if not, too bad. Did I train enough? Probably not.  What if something goes wrong? Plot twist whaaaaat.  What kind of mental demons will I be facing out there? Serious ones, like Ursula at the end of The Little Mermaid type shit. Flat tire? I’m screwed.  Deep river creatures and runoff pesticide poison?  Bring them on. I should have gotten a that tenuous shot. I may be able to stop and fry an egg on the side walk if I get hungry mid race, it’ll be that hot.  What are the port-a-potties going to be like?  Death by suffocation of smell.  Cycling shorts or tri shorts? Screw that, comfort, so I’m getting naked in that changing tent. What the hell was I thinking?  Too late for that shit, next thought.   I can possibly write 4 pages of everything that is going thru my mind at this point.  My bike gets dropped off to be shipped this week, I start organizing what goes into each of the 47 bags . For those of you that may not know you get 4 bags, one from swim to bike (that has all you change into on the bike), a special needs bag (there’s a station in the bike you will stop for this), one back from bike to run (this has everything you change into for the run), and finally a special needs on the run, a station about half way on the run.  You put pretty much everything you may think you may need, band-aids, pain-killers, a cheeseburger, everyone has their own method of madness out there.  I’m kidding about the cheeseburger…I hope.  I’m hoping TSA doesn’t stop me for drug smuggling from all the pills and powders going into this race.  And I’m sure they’ll wonder why I have so much Vaseline.  Don’t ask sir, don’t ask.

Physically, I’m tired, I’ve been training since February, common’ now.  I took two days off last week, even a Saturday morning ride.  I slept until 1pm, I honestly can’t remember the last time I did this… it was heavenly.  I think my alarm clock was in shock…and so was my pillow.  If I head off to race in this condition, it’ll be ugly. Curled up in fetal position ugly.  So I’m taking this week as relaxed as possible, just keeping my muscles moving.  My cool, calmed and collective self (doesn’t really exist) has officially abandoned me.  When people ask me about it, my initial reaction is to cover my ears and scream la la la la to not hear about the race.  You put so much into something, so much of yourself, your time, your dedication that the thought of something going wrong, the thought of possibly not accomplishing your goal, shakes you.  Forget the actual money that goes into these races, but the volume of passion, sheer will, it would be heartbreaking not to reach it.  Everyone tells you, you’re ready, you’re going to finish and I know they’re right but my initial thought is always, how do you know? But I’m so grateful for their motivation and faith. Now it’s time to have fun, 140.6 miles of it.  Louisville or bust. ~ AddingMoMiles

It’s Simple

In the last two years, actually since I started training for anything 4 years ago, I’ve gotten a lot of whys. Why wake up at 5am on the weekend, why pay for a race, why the hell would you do a two-a-day, and why would you possibly want to race for hours? Who does that? I do. Simple, because it’s fun. I know it sounds completely demented but there is no better feeling than a sick workout. Than sitting there drenched in sweat, your leg muscles pulsing, looking at your watch, and knowing you killed it. Being layed out on the sidewalk because you just left everything you had out on the ride. I can now say my day is complete, because there is a feeling of completeness being completely exhausted.

Something like this…

 

It’s simple, because I can. This was part of a conversation with my girls yesterday; you should take nothing for granted. There are people that never or no longer have the opportunity to go out for a run, squat their own weight, or know the feeling of crossing the finish line of a race. They’ll never be able to feel the energy of the athletes or spectators, read those funny signs. I am blessed enough to do this, so I will and I’m thankful every race. It’s simple, because there’s something about feeling the sun on your skin and sweating it out. I don’t think I can ever understand how people can only workout in the gym. I need to be out, I need my vitamin D.

It’s simple, because I don’t want to be average. I want to look back and know I tested my body’s limits. I want to get old, wrinkled and tell stories about crossing finish lines with the girls in the home. I want to look back Monday mornings and know I did more than just drink, eat, and sleep on the weekend. I want to feel accomplished. I want to make checks on my fitness bucketlist, hell on all of my bucketlists. I want to hear the words “you are an Ironman.” But when they ask why, I’ll stick to its fun, mostly because I like to see their reaction. But seriously, it is fun. ~ Adding Mo Miles