I have a friend Cheryl who would make a great "military man". I say this with a slight chuckle because she and I grew up in military families and both have deep memories of what that means. You want Cheryl on your side when you go to battle. She does her research. She finds out all the strengths and weaknesses of her enemies and figures out how to arrange her own strengths and weaknesses to compete against them. She has helped me learn what that is all about and she has made it fun. In the military, Cheryl would be a full bird. A full colonel. And I would be a LTC, learning from her along the way. She has a couple more years experience in tris than I do and I stick close to her and absorb her knowledge like a sponge.
This week Cheryl became more like a general for me. Because sometimes instead of the tactical day to day info of competing in war (or tris), you need someone who looks at the big picture. You need someone who will say you can win the war when you are down in the trenches and really think you've lost it. You need someone who simply will not accept no for an answer. Someone who reminds you of why you started this journey.
Luckily for me Cheryl wasn't the only general. I had lots of them this week. In fact, I had so many generals telling me I could win the war that I didn't really have any choice other than to say "yes" I can and I will.
There was a period of about 48 hours when I didn't think I'd be able to train again this year. And no way possibly compete. Every flower, kind word, cup of coffee, text, phone call, singing balloon, bar of chocolate and jar of popcorn helped me see that I can. And I will. Thank you. Thank you all for listening to the whining and crying but not believing in it.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Week 45: Where is my tuesday?
I missed writing my blog last week not because of the surgery but because I just wasn't sure what I was supposed to write about or what I was supposed to say. I didn't want to turn it into a pity party about my surgery but I also didn't want to push it aside and write a humorous blog like nothing happened. So I waited until I was inspired.
The most interesting part of my stay at Piedmont Hospital and my journey there were the people. The amazing incredible array of people I met from every culture and lifestyle possible. And how many of them opened up to me and shared their lives with me to help me feel more comfortable while I was in pain.
I met a woman from Thailand during my pre-op check in who survived breast cancer and shared her amazing story with me. I had ran 18 miles the day before surgery and my veins were dehydrated and she was having trouble getting the main line in. So we talked while she warmed my veins with hot compresses. She told me the story of when she woke up on Wednesday when her surgery was Monday with no idea what happened and kept asking her kids "where is my tuesday?" She wanted her Tuesday back.
When you get to your hospital room, there are 2 objects on the wall in front of you clear in view. One is a black and white clock. The other is a dry erase board. On the board they list the nurses who are taking care of you by their first names. The first shift I was there, I was so jacked up on morphine that I could not read the board nor understand what on earth those names meant. I feel sorry for those nurses because I would just find the call button, push it several times and yell "pain" into the box when they asked me what I wanted. I actually am laughing while writing this because I now realize how rude it was for me to do that...but at the time, it was all I could muster.
The clock. That damn black and white clock. I stared and stared at that clock. I bargained with that clock. I was in that room for 48 hours. I can promise you it felt like a month. I would beg the clock every 10 minutes to make me feel better, to make me feel normal. Pretty much now I know that was the morphine and anesthesia talking but at the time I pretty much would trade anything to make the time go by faster. When the bargaining went from 10 minute period to one hour periods, I knew life was improving.
When the second shift of nurses got there, I had a little more decorum about my shouts into the white squawking box. I would look up on the board, pick a nurse and yell her name into the box. As the time wore on, I actually used "please" and "thank you". Mary O was truly a guardian angel for me. Typically assigned to the orthopedic surgery floor, she was doing a shift on general surgery. She treated me like I was her own daughter and for that 12 hour period, I relied on her immensely. The hospital didn't have a clue on what I could eat and she gave her own greek yogurt to me. She shared stories about her life with me and she did things that went way beyond the call of duty. I will go back and find her to thank her in person because I'd like her to know what an impact she makes on her patients lives.
There were also numbers of people who had the same surgery who just happened to show up in my life like the anesthesiologist and two of my parents neighbors. They proudly pulled down the necks of their shirts to show me their scars and tell me their stories.
All of these things helped me mentally which helps me physically. Within the first few days, I worried that perhaps IMFL might be out of the cards for me and that to recover and then train and race with less than 60 days to go, might be too big a task to take on. And then I realized it was really just like the clock in the room. I only have to think about the next 10 minutes. Nothing more. And when I get past that ten minutes, the next 10 will be there. And then the next hour. And I don't have to take on any more than that right now.
The most interesting part of my stay at Piedmont Hospital and my journey there were the people. The amazing incredible array of people I met from every culture and lifestyle possible. And how many of them opened up to me and shared their lives with me to help me feel more comfortable while I was in pain.
I met a woman from Thailand during my pre-op check in who survived breast cancer and shared her amazing story with me. I had ran 18 miles the day before surgery and my veins were dehydrated and she was having trouble getting the main line in. So we talked while she warmed my veins with hot compresses. She told me the story of when she woke up on Wednesday when her surgery was Monday with no idea what happened and kept asking her kids "where is my tuesday?" She wanted her Tuesday back.
When you get to your hospital room, there are 2 objects on the wall in front of you clear in view. One is a black and white clock. The other is a dry erase board. On the board they list the nurses who are taking care of you by their first names. The first shift I was there, I was so jacked up on morphine that I could not read the board nor understand what on earth those names meant. I feel sorry for those nurses because I would just find the call button, push it several times and yell "pain" into the box when they asked me what I wanted. I actually am laughing while writing this because I now realize how rude it was for me to do that...but at the time, it was all I could muster.
The clock. That damn black and white clock. I stared and stared at that clock. I bargained with that clock. I was in that room for 48 hours. I can promise you it felt like a month. I would beg the clock every 10 minutes to make me feel better, to make me feel normal. Pretty much now I know that was the morphine and anesthesia talking but at the time I pretty much would trade anything to make the time go by faster. When the bargaining went from 10 minute period to one hour periods, I knew life was improving.
When the second shift of nurses got there, I had a little more decorum about my shouts into the white squawking box. I would look up on the board, pick a nurse and yell her name into the box. As the time wore on, I actually used "please" and "thank you". Mary O was truly a guardian angel for me. Typically assigned to the orthopedic surgery floor, she was doing a shift on general surgery. She treated me like I was her own daughter and for that 12 hour period, I relied on her immensely. The hospital didn't have a clue on what I could eat and she gave her own greek yogurt to me. She shared stories about her life with me and she did things that went way beyond the call of duty. I will go back and find her to thank her in person because I'd like her to know what an impact she makes on her patients lives.
There were also numbers of people who had the same surgery who just happened to show up in my life like the anesthesiologist and two of my parents neighbors. They proudly pulled down the necks of their shirts to show me their scars and tell me their stories.
All of these things helped me mentally which helps me physically. Within the first few days, I worried that perhaps IMFL might be out of the cards for me and that to recover and then train and race with less than 60 days to go, might be too big a task to take on. And then I realized it was really just like the clock in the room. I only have to think about the next 10 minutes. Nothing more. And when I get past that ten minutes, the next 10 will be there. And then the next hour. And I don't have to take on any more than that right now.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Week 43: 300 days down 65 to go and now this
300 days have passed since I paid my $600 to sign up for IMFL. 300 days. A lot can happen in 300 days. There were a lot of things I expected might happen in 300 days. I didn't know the tendonitis would happen but it was probable given the strain I was putting on my legs from running. Once I solved that issue, I never truly believed that I'd really run fast again until a few weeks ago at RBR and then this week I surpassed my longest distance and confidently and comfortably ran 16 miles. The first 14 were at my typical snail's pace of 10:30-11 min miles. But my coach asked me to amp it up a little at the end and I laid down two 8:45 miles and was as excited as a triathlete figuring out how to wirelessly download their Garmin to Training Peaks. Ok, call me a nerd, it makes me very excited every time I hear that beep.
I thought I might lose my job because of the economy. That hasn't happened but things are looking quite shaky. I thought I would learn a lot about myself over 12 months of training for an Ironman because that‘s what everyone says will happen. I have. But I didn't learn what I thought I would learn. What I have learned over the past 10 months was how to be a better friend. How to listen to people. How to care more about other people. And how to let them care about me. It has been a very unexpected result. And one that makes me wonder how much of life I have missed out on by not seeing this.
And I guess I learned this lesson just in time. Because something else has happened that I never dreamt possible while training for an Ironman. I got cancer. And I hope you can see I am not writing this because I want pity or attention. I am writing it because it’s just something that happens to so many people going along their path in life. And you sit on a table in a doc’s office and they have to tell you this. That you have abnormal cells growing in you. And you have to figure out how to handle it. Without losing it in front of the doc while he explains the procedure and the scars and the permanent numbness of your neck and ear and the chance your trapezoid may not work on that side and your swim will really suck. Worse than it does now. And you may be hoarse forever. The cancer in my thyroid doesn’t concern them as much as the cancer in my lymph nodes. This is not hyper or hypothyroidism which would have shown up on tests. My blood work is completely normal. Had it not been for the pain I experienced in my neck while pushing my head forward while riding aero, I might not have discovered this. At this point it’s an 85% success rate. I think those are really good odds.
I mostly held it all together in his office and then fell apart for 5 minutes in the ladies room. 5 minutes. That’s really all I needed. Went to the hospital admin office and took care of the paperwork so I can go back Tuesday for the surgery which lasts about 4-5 hours and requires one night at the hospital. It is a 2-3 week recovery period at home. There is no chemo but I have to wear some pretty scary looking drains and there is a radioactive iodine pill I will take afterwards to kill off any remaining cells. (You might not want to visit me those days.) It is just another hiccup on the road to Ironman Florida. It is most likely a cancer I have been living with for awhile. It did not happen overnight.
But back to the new found skill I have learned over the past 10 months. The one where I let other people help me and care about me. Something tells me it is going to come in handy during the month of September and beyond. Perhaps you can teach an old dog new tricks. I’m about to find out.
Thank you all for the love and concern you have sent me. I have always wanted to experience what it felt like to be on a team. And it feels really really good.
I thought I might lose my job because of the economy. That hasn't happened but things are looking quite shaky. I thought I would learn a lot about myself over 12 months of training for an Ironman because that‘s what everyone says will happen. I have. But I didn't learn what I thought I would learn. What I have learned over the past 10 months was how to be a better friend. How to listen to people. How to care more about other people. And how to let them care about me. It has been a very unexpected result. And one that makes me wonder how much of life I have missed out on by not seeing this.
And I guess I learned this lesson just in time. Because something else has happened that I never dreamt possible while training for an Ironman. I got cancer. And I hope you can see I am not writing this because I want pity or attention. I am writing it because it’s just something that happens to so many people going along their path in life. And you sit on a table in a doc’s office and they have to tell you this. That you have abnormal cells growing in you. And you have to figure out how to handle it. Without losing it in front of the doc while he explains the procedure and the scars and the permanent numbness of your neck and ear and the chance your trapezoid may not work on that side and your swim will really suck. Worse than it does now. And you may be hoarse forever. The cancer in my thyroid doesn’t concern them as much as the cancer in my lymph nodes. This is not hyper or hypothyroidism which would have shown up on tests. My blood work is completely normal. Had it not been for the pain I experienced in my neck while pushing my head forward while riding aero, I might not have discovered this. At this point it’s an 85% success rate. I think those are really good odds.
I mostly held it all together in his office and then fell apart for 5 minutes in the ladies room. 5 minutes. That’s really all I needed. Went to the hospital admin office and took care of the paperwork so I can go back Tuesday for the surgery which lasts about 4-5 hours and requires one night at the hospital. It is a 2-3 week recovery period at home. There is no chemo but I have to wear some pretty scary looking drains and there is a radioactive iodine pill I will take afterwards to kill off any remaining cells. (You might not want to visit me those days.) It is just another hiccup on the road to Ironman Florida. It is most likely a cancer I have been living with for awhile. It did not happen overnight.
But back to the new found skill I have learned over the past 10 months. The one where I let other people help me and care about me. Something tells me it is going to come in handy during the month of September and beyond. Perhaps you can teach an old dog new tricks. I’m about to find out.
Thank you all for the love and concern you have sent me. I have always wanted to experience what it felt like to be on a team. And it feels really really good.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Week 42: The triathlon bubble.
We all have our neroses, and the longer you hang out with your teammates, the clearer they become. I have quite a few of my own and they typically involve food. In fairness, I think that I can blame all of this on my mother. My mom was one of those people who never threw out anything and thought it was okay to leave the container of milk on the kitchen table for hours while we ate, and then put in back in the fridge for the next day. Needless to say, I do not drink milk anymore and haven't for about 20 years. Maybe more. You can look up my age on my tri results, but I'm not going to make it easy and just give it away.
One night, I was over at my parents' house for dinner and they were cooking shrimp on the grill. You might think that sounds tasty. But the shrimp were the already cooked frozen shrimp type. You AREN'T supposed to cook those. You defrost them and serve them cold. Or make shrimp salad out of them. Whatever! So when I requested some of them to make shrimp cocktail, my mom said, "okay," and directed me to the pantry for the cocktail sauce. It was "new" and unopened. It was also black. In my world, tomatoes are red, they are not black. "Mom," I said, "how old is this cocktail sauce? Nevermind, I will just look at the label. Mom, this cocktail sauce expired 17 years ago!"
So yes, I became a little neurotic about food, and I grocery shop every 1-2 days. I also freak out when people try to shake my hand while I'm eating at a restaurant. Or if they lean over me to talk to someone next to me and spit all over my food. In my perfect world, we'd all eat at our own tables and wave to each other during meals. And maybe text. But not talk. And definitely not spit on each other's food.
When I started doing tris, I was quite shocked at my change in behavior. Not that I will eat old food...because that ain't happening. BUT I will eat food, any food, dirty food, food off the floor, food other people have touched and coughed on and stepped on and well, you are starting to get the picture. Is that an unopened pack of Gu I see on the ground that has been stomped on by 500 people? Pick it up and save it for later. (yes, I will wash the pack first). Did someone leave the mini boxes of cereal on this table from their swag bag? They are mine now.
At the Augusta 70.3 last year, I was the runner of our relay team, and the more water I drank while waiting for the race to begin, the more I wanted. But I ran out and couldn't find anymore. I spied a very large container of it that someone used to fill their aero bottle near the bikes. It was by the trash cans. They hadn't used much of it and were throwing it away. Hmmmm....it looked just fine, so I picked it up and refilled my water bottle. I might have drunk straight from the bottle. It's just hard for me to admit that.
This past fall, during my first century ride, I stuffed nutter butter cookies from one of the rest stops into my back pocket of my jersey and forgot about them. After the race, I was starving, and despite them being soaked with my sweat and quite soggy, I ate them and licked my fingers clean. I also scraped the remaining soggy, doughlike substance from the jersey pocket to get every bite. When you are ravenous from 104 miles of cycling, you just don't care what people think.
What? Licked my filthy fingers clean? And it hit me. There is a bubble. A triathlon bubble. It allows us to train and compete and not get sick. It protects us against all kinds of disease and nasty crap we get into. I have gotten out of some of the lakes we swim in with horrible bites and rashes only to find that a couple of days later, they are gone. We have all eaten from tubs of orange slices into which countless other filthy hands have reached before us, and not gotten sick. We drink from gatorade containers that I am certain have not been cleaned out since Gatorade was invented. It is the protective triathlon bubble, and you'd better be happy it exists. Because I know I am.
I am not proud of this behavior, not at all. But it does provide a little freedom for me to believe in this bubble. And perhaps, a little bit of therapy to be free from my craziness about food, even if it's only for a short time. Just don't tell my mother.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Week 41: The curse of Ironman.
I don't know what it is about me and registering for Ironman M-Dot branded events and the resulting bad luck I have in the days afterwards. My first experience of this was when I signed up to do the relay for Augusta 70.3 last September. I was running pretty well with a few aches and pains here and there. Once I signed up to do the run, BOOM, my IT band went into full force daily cranky pain yanking on my knee making me feel like a 90 year old. I babied it as much as I could, foam roller, blah blah blah, and made it to the race and ended up doing well.
Then last fall, I register for my first Ironman while I'm at the event, go out for a 15 mile run later than day and BOOM, once again, have an overuse injury of my left ankle and foot that took about 8-9 months to get under control. Notice I do not say HEALED as both my IT band and my foot are now injuries that I just manage. I sincerely hope that when IMFL is over and I take a long time off to rest and start doing shorter distances that my legs will fully heal.
But both of these injuries are really overuse type stuff that tons of runners speak of when they discuss "pain management". I do truly think they will heal once my IM is over and I rest.
I got back Sunday afternoon from the Richard B Russell Olympic race this weekend feeling really good about life. My plans were to go into IMFL NOT having done any tris this year. And after a couple of friends suggested I should do an Olympic and a HIM before IMFL, I signed up for RBR because I loved it so much last year.
The race was fun and exciting and I loved every minute of it. Ok, maybe not the swim this time. But the bike and run went well. And a stroke of luck bumped the top 2 females in my AG to Masters so I ended up with FIRST place in my age group. I truly did not expect to podium AT ALL in this race so it was a pleasant surprise but truly not the highlight of the weekend. The best part was laughing and having fun with my teammates.
So when I got back on Sunday, I signed up for Augusta. This will be my FIRST half ironman as the two I did earlier this year were without the run since I was injured at that point. I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for Monday because I have had the feeling of a rock in my throat for about 2 weeks. I almost cancelled the appt since it wasn't bothering me as much on Monday but figured to go ahead and see him.
I guess the Ironman curse is still with me. As it was far more serious than I imagined. I had an ultrasound today and got a call from the doctor within hours telling me I needed surgery right away since I have a mass on my thyroid and a lymph node. This could be normal or it could be something really bad. Until I know otherwise, I'm going with normal. There is no point in panicking or blowing it out of proportion. Perhaps it explains why my energy level has been so up and down...I have been blaming this on my training schedule. Maybe it doesn't explain it. Maybe I AM tired from so much training.
Most likely the surgery is next week. I'll know Monday. I thought perhaps I shouldn't share this info with y'all but I have shared pretty much everything else that has happened to me over the course of the last year and to hide it would make it more serious than it is. And it's not serious. Except I think you know that, yes, I am a little scared.
Then last fall, I register for my first Ironman while I'm at the event, go out for a 15 mile run later than day and BOOM, once again, have an overuse injury of my left ankle and foot that took about 8-9 months to get under control. Notice I do not say HEALED as both my IT band and my foot are now injuries that I just manage. I sincerely hope that when IMFL is over and I take a long time off to rest and start doing shorter distances that my legs will fully heal.
But both of these injuries are really overuse type stuff that tons of runners speak of when they discuss "pain management". I do truly think they will heal once my IM is over and I rest.
I got back Sunday afternoon from the Richard B Russell Olympic race this weekend feeling really good about life. My plans were to go into IMFL NOT having done any tris this year. And after a couple of friends suggested I should do an Olympic and a HIM before IMFL, I signed up for RBR because I loved it so much last year.
The race was fun and exciting and I loved every minute of it. Ok, maybe not the swim this time. But the bike and run went well. And a stroke of luck bumped the top 2 females in my AG to Masters so I ended up with FIRST place in my age group. I truly did not expect to podium AT ALL in this race so it was a pleasant surprise but truly not the highlight of the weekend. The best part was laughing and having fun with my teammates.
So when I got back on Sunday, I signed up for Augusta. This will be my FIRST half ironman as the two I did earlier this year were without the run since I was injured at that point. I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for Monday because I have had the feeling of a rock in my throat for about 2 weeks. I almost cancelled the appt since it wasn't bothering me as much on Monday but figured to go ahead and see him.
I guess the Ironman curse is still with me. As it was far more serious than I imagined. I had an ultrasound today and got a call from the doctor within hours telling me I needed surgery right away since I have a mass on my thyroid and a lymph node. This could be normal or it could be something really bad. Until I know otherwise, I'm going with normal. There is no point in panicking or blowing it out of proportion. Perhaps it explains why my energy level has been so up and down...I have been blaming this on my training schedule. Maybe it doesn't explain it. Maybe I AM tired from so much training.
Most likely the surgery is next week. I'll know Monday. I thought perhaps I shouldn't share this info with y'all but I have shared pretty much everything else that has happened to me over the course of the last year and to hide it would make it more serious than it is. And it's not serious. Except I think you know that, yes, I am a little scared.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Week 40: Friends and humor: What gets me through
There is no way possible I could make it through this journey without the support of my friends and teammates. And although I appreciate their shoulders to cry on, it is really their humor that gets me through the pain.
There are tons of examples and I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving them out but here are just a few of my favorites:
First there is Cheryl, with her undying love of athlete stalking. I don't mean the type that "someone" might do by writing down race numbers with a sharpie on her arm at a race and looking them up later. I mean her stalking of women in our age group. Here is a brief glmpse into the detail of info Cheryl emails to me:
There are tons of examples and I don't mean to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving them out but here are just a few of my favorites:
First there is Cheryl, with her undying love of athlete stalking. I don't mean the type that "someone" might do by writing down race numbers with a sharpie on her arm at a race and looking them up later. I mean her stalking of women in our age group. Here is a brief glmpse into the detail of info Cheryl emails to me:
3. Jane Doe (I changed the actual names) - WATCH OUT! IM Cozumel '09 13:33; IMFL '08 13:05; Tugaloo '10 and '09 3:05, 3:00; RBR '10 2:23 (4th OA, 1st AG). Relative to us, she's a slighly faster swimmer, slightly slower biker, VERY fast runner (3x BQ - yikes!!). Definite competition and I'm guessing uncatchable, unless she's injured (or tripped...hehe).
4. Lisa Smith - ^%$&. She's a ~44-46 min 10k, 2:24 Oly finisher, podiumed every single one of her 7 tris (but mainly only sprints and 2x W Pt Lake). Crazy fast in all 3 legs. We have no chance of catching her. &^*&. *&*^. #@#$.
5. Kim Jones- Darn again. Slower swimmer, bikes on par w/ us, but crazy fast runner (46 min 10k, 3:39 marathon). RBR '10 2:41 (1st AG, 8th OA). Has only done 4 sprints and 1 Oly, but podiumed ALL of them (her only Oly was RBR '10 in 2:41, 1st AG, 8th OA). And the worst part of it all? She only just aged up this year. Damn.
6. Jane Wilson - wild card. Only one result, a 38 min open 5k five yrs ago. She could be a crazy fast swim-biker, but somehow I doubt it. Anyone fit enough to swim/bike faster than us can WALK a faster 5k than that. I'm going to say she's no competition. Particularly if she's done nothing in 5 yrs. I mean, I had a 50+ min 5k 3 yrs ago (I was injured and limping from the first 1/2 mi), but that means nothing when you look at other results. But if I had no other results? Then I just quit running altogether and NEVER got any faster. Why is this Jane Wilson suddenly showing up for an Oly w/out so much as a single sprint or 5k race in 5 yrs? Unless she just got married and has never registered under her married name before, and this is not the 38min 5k Jane Wilson. DAMN those women who change their names!
Next there is Jeff. Who really plays the stoic serious guy until he posts on facebook and is snarky. When I begin to doubt my ability to complete an Ironman and am having a meltdown and turn to him in complete despair thinking he will say "don't worry Patti, we will make it!", instead he quips back "We are fucked".
And Reckers. Oh Reckers. He really is the funniest person on our team. He pees 12 times at IMTX, ruins his cycling shoes, and then decides to FREEZE them to get rid of the smell? He kept me in stitches on our last trail run with his funny outlook on life.
I love Chris' race reports and how he had to outrun a guy in a chicken suit for a free Chickfila sandwich.
There are tons more stories and truly it gets lost in translation. I just want to say thanks. Thanks to everyone for their humor and their support. This past week has hurt like hell. I feel like a mack truck ran over me and then when I got back up, it hit me again 2 days later. Please keep me laughing so I can forget the pain. :)
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Week 39: 3/4 there
There are 3 months left. 3 months from Saturday until the big day. So today I decided to look at where I am. And how I'm doing. And is it working. A good friend gave me Macca's book for my bday. In it he talks about being able to recognize when things aren't working during an ironman and being able to change on the fly. Several friends who just completed Lake Placid said the same thing.
What is working? The swim and the run. I'm feeling ok with these. I'm slow. I'm steady. I'm not afraid of either of them. I'm not going to get any faster in 3 months but I can continue to gain confidence and peace.
What's not working? The bike. The nutrition and my stamina. I can work this out. I'm getting help. What else? My energy level. Once again. I've made some changes so I don't feel so exhausted. So beat down.
Final words. I started putting goals in my head. Breaking the day down. And I've stopped myself now from doing this. This is my first ironman. This is my second year doing tris. I still have not completed a half ironman. A week from Saturday is my first tri this year. I put way too much pressure on myself in life for everything I do. And I think it's a better idea to have my main goal be "to finish" and let the cards fall where they may.
What is working? The swim and the run. I'm feeling ok with these. I'm slow. I'm steady. I'm not afraid of either of them. I'm not going to get any faster in 3 months but I can continue to gain confidence and peace.
What's not working? The bike. The nutrition and my stamina. I can work this out. I'm getting help. What else? My energy level. Once again. I've made some changes so I don't feel so exhausted. So beat down.
Final words. I started putting goals in my head. Breaking the day down. And I've stopped myself now from doing this. This is my first ironman. This is my second year doing tris. I still have not completed a half ironman. A week from Saturday is my first tri this year. I put way too much pressure on myself in life for everything I do. And I think it's a better idea to have my main goal be "to finish" and let the cards fall where they may.
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