Countdown Begins

 

61 day till Louisville!!! #@%&!!! Now that I have that off my chest…can you tell I’m a little excited. Yes, excited! Surprisingly not nervous, scared or curled up in the fetal position in a corner. I thought at this point in training I would have had some kind of breakdown or sending this race to hell but I’m not. I can honestly say it isn’t going too bad. I would love to bask in the glory that is sleeping in some Sundays and not come close to running a half marathon on a Thursday night that leaves me comatose but in general I’m staying pretty calm and collected. This kind of worries me cause calm and collected isn’t really my thing. I may be making this up, but I’m going to say I feel like I’m finally mentally there; lets light some candles this last until race day.

Life out by Robert’s in Homestead

I think it’s seeing the results that have me in this I will survive moment.  After a lot of frustration, some anger, and a few temper tantrums, my bike is where I want it to be. I’m hitting averages that I have never hit before. They say it’s the borrowed 404’s, I’m saying it’s all my big ol’legs. I’m well on my way to my goal time for the bike in the race. My goal is to cross the finish line but I got a few times in my head to keep me a little motivated on race day. No, I won’t be sharing them. I am genuinely enjoying being on the bike. Maybe not always 5 hours, but I don’t look at it like homework. I was constantly thinking and over analyzing when I would go out on the bike. What if I start to hard and blow up my legs, I don’t like being in the group cause it’s absolute madness sometimes, am I drinking enough water? Screw that. Now I’m getting on that bike, getting all up in the group, pushing myself and it’s a damn good time. If my legs blow up, I just pedal myself back at whatever speed they can go. Obviously this isn’t my race day strategy, but it’s getting me the strength, speed and mental willpower I’m going to need because when you’re 3:30 hours in, you’re legs screaming mercy, and you’re still out there in the middle of homestead, you have no choice but to make it back. My run, doesn’t get a whole soliloquy like my bike (no surprise) but I’m getting thru them. We don’t always see eye to eye but I don’t dread them anymore (progress).

Seriously

There are few things one fears when training more than injury. This past weekend the back of my knee really started to hurt, turns out it’s my calf. So much that I had to take Sunday off. I did bask in the glory that is sleeping in Sunday morning, but it was bittersweet. I wanted to train; I don’t want to put my progress on pause.   But better a few days than a few weeks. I am worried, moments of panic as I limped back to my car when it started to hurt again on yesterday’s run but I’m icing, rolling, and going straight to therapy before it gets any worse. Ain’t no one got time for this ~ Adding Mo Miles

Piece of Cake

I would like a piece of cake right now, but that isn’t what this post is about. “This week is meant to break you” words from my very dear friend trying to calm me down on the phone Thursday. I apparently was alborotada (in an uproar is the Google translation). I had spent most of the week with a half-cold. It’s when you don’t feel 100% but it’s not a full blown cold. I attribute it to lots of training and a germ infestation in the office. This was hard for me to deal with because it was suppose to be a build week. I wasn’t ready to be out of commission recovering. So come Thursday, time for a long run and I had a Mo moment. Called it a day an hour in and left infuriated with myself and running. I couldn’t hit the pace I wanted, my knees hurt, my stomach was bothering me, I was just pissed. After about a 10 minute call, rational words (surprise, surprise, I was being irrational), and some calm words of motivation, I was better. I was still very frustrated, but tomorrow would be another day.

(Thank you Ryan)

The weekend was approaching and we were putting in some hours. I knew it would happen, but it was still kind of daunting that I was almost late for a 3pm appointment from training that I started at 7am and that I was having breakfast at 1:30pm, it’s become tradition, breakfast after training ❤ . So we set off on our 4:30 ride, in a nice little cloudy drizzle. About an hour in we were layered with street gunk and dirt. Kind of made you feel like a bad ass and really gross all at same the time. The last 4+ hour ride I did, the last hour was painful and my speed was a little embarrassing. This time, I felt strong, kept pace above my race goal, and wasn’t desperate to get off the bike. We finished covered in dirt, smelling like wet dog, and feeling pretty good about ourselves. A big breakfast, compression socks, a burger for dinner, and some quality couch time and I was feeling good for Sunday.

Wind, wind, and more wind. It’s the story of living in Miami and that’s exactly what we got on Sunday. The ride is usually easy for me on bricks because my focus on Sundays is getting through the run.  I’d been having trouble reaching 1:30 on the run and I was suppose to run longer than I’ve ran to date in Ironman training, and the longest I’ve ever ran on a brick, 1:45. So I set out with the usual, looking at my pace, focusing on my speed and by the time I hit the Key Biscayne bridge I knew I wasn’t going to make it thru this run focusing on pace. This time I focused on keeping my mind strong and my spirits high. So I stopped looking at my watch and just ran, from water fountain to water fountain. I even started smiling at anyone who made eye contact, some smiled back, and some looked at me like I was a serial killer. I don’t exactly smile when I run…ever. I played some serious jedi mind tricks. High fiving friends I saw along the way (yea we’re cute like that). Checked out all the bikes (ok and maybe some cyclist), designed my own road bike in my head, chit chatted with strangers. If there’s any time to talk to a stranger it’s on a run.  Tried to make friends with the homeless man that guards a water fountain, he wasn’t a fan. Breaking the run down in 30 minute intervals, cause in my head I can run 30 minutes. My feet started to hurt and my muscles started to cramp, but seeing that I had made it comfortably to an hour and half, I was getting those last 15 minutes in.  It hurt but a weekend that was meant to break me, didn’t (that’s what’s up!). I was proud of us. So on the next week. Piece of cake no? ~ Adding Mo Miles

The Comeback

Call it a comeback! This weekend I can finally say I felt like myself, Monica Maria Rosa.  Also known as Mo, Moma, Le Mo, Le Monique, Momo… I have a lot of nicknames.  It’s been a very frustrating few weeks because I really learned how much of my conditioning I’d lost.  I spent a good three months on “off season.”  That doesn’t happen here in Miami, where we pretty much train year round.  At the end of last season I was drained physically, emotionally, and mentally.  I trained through absolute exhaustion and led to a burn out.  I didn’t want to hear the words swim, bike, run, or race.  I’m still angry with myself for letting this happen but you live, learn, and comeback! I’ve promised myself that I won’t allow anything or anyone let me get there again. 

Our Saturday morning ride started like any other, Mo getting dropped.  I’ve come to terms with it.  But this time it was different cause I wasn’t going to stay behind.  I found another group and went along for the ride.  As their pace creeped up to speeds I’ve never reached before, I started catching groups that had left me behind.  Lungs and legs burning, I was going to stick with them.  Long story short, I made it back to the store 25 minutes faster than last week.  I got off my bike and did a little dance, last week I got off with anger and frustration.  Progress.

For me it was Sunday‘s run that left me focused.  I felt so great running, I ran 15 minutes more than planned.  If you read my last post, you know this is rare…or nonexistent.  I ran longer and faster than I have in months and it felt damn good.  I kept pushing cause I would much rather focus on the pain than my thoughts.  I kept going cause I didn’t want to stop.  It was a beach run, I was in my place.  They almost sent out the search party.  What made the day perfect was breakfast with some of my favorites and then some quality time with my toes in the sand.

The last few weeks had me angry with the decisions I had made.  This weekend left me motivated and determined.  I’ve regained my focus. ~ Adding Mo Miles

 

 

Run Forrest Run

I highly dislike running (pause for reaction).  I don’t get excited about going for run.  For the most part it is not a stress reliever for me, quite the opposite.  I know what you’re thinking, “you’re a triathlete , you’re supposed to enjoy it.  Why do it? You make no sense!! ” It’s simple, the challenge.  To me the sport is synonymous with life.  Sometimes, you’re going to have to do things you don’t want to.  You’re going to go through things that are hard, difficult, draining in every way, and simply put, suck.  Well, that’s running for me and it prepares for those things.  Oh and who are we kidding, it does a body good. 

I go through the five stages of grief every single mile that I run.

1. Denial – I’m not going to run whatever amount of miles in my training calendar.  I am not running an hour! This isn’t happening ….nope this isn’t happening… nooooo!
2. Anger – Damn you running! I hate this sport! Why do I do this?  What is wrong with me?! I hate my coach (in all honesty I don’t)…
3. Bargaining – Ok, what if I run 55 minutes instead of an hour?  Does it really matter?
4. Depression – I’m all alone…I’ve been left behind again (cue in “All by Myself”)
5. Acceptance – I got this! I’m going to get it done!

I’m slowly coming to terms with running again, learning to accept it, and trying not to see it as the Darth Vader of triathlons. It’s a process, a slow one. So how do I make running less miserable?

I try to focus on anything else as soon as the negative starts to creep up and demons take over.  The Cuban international cycling team flying by me, the view of the water if I’m in Key Biscayne, unicorns, pot of gold… anything! Recently, what I’m going to write here has been a great distraction. 

 Every once in a while, I take a run for me. No watch, no pace, no determined distance. Just enjoy and oh my, I may just walk a bit and take it all in.  This is ludicrous to many triathletes and these may be rare for me now. 

Using those I train with as motivation.  I’m surrounded by some incredible and determined athletes.  Seeing how much they improve each and every session and race is motivation enough to keep me going.  But also avoiding a disapproving look from my “assistant” coach is sometimes enough.

I look for those moments in running that make it worth it.  That mile I got my pace lower than I have in the last two weeks, regardless of how bad the other miles were.  That moment I kept a decent running form cause it’s no surprise I have an awful running form.  I resemble a dancing T-Rex.  That moment where it doesn’t matter how hot it is, feels like I’m doing cartwheels on the sun, I’m pushing thru.  Out of 10 runs, I may have 2-3 real good ones.  Those are the ones I focus on, those are the ones that keep me at it. 

All the while “Run Forrest Run” is playing in my head. ~ Adding Mo Miles