It was just over a year ago that I made the decision to commit myself to completing an Ironman. At the time I barely knew how to swim the front crawl, run without walking breaks or balance on a road bike. Yet this is usually how I approach things in life, jumping in with both feet and never really looking to see where I’m landing. I’m stubborn, impulsive, determined and reckless, and while these attributes often result in trouble, I honestly believe they are the attributes that will help develop me into the Ironman I so desperately want to become.
Over this year, I have stuck with my commitment, and while I still have so far to go in my journey I no longer feel impulsive and reckless. I know I am making the right decisions with my training and I’m approaching each level of the sport with reason and careful planning. That being said, while I submitted my registration form for the half-distance 2014 Challenge Penticton race it felt like a leap. No matter how prepared I am, it’s still hard to believe I can actually do it. The scary part about realizing your dreams is when they suddenly become reality. Nonetheless, my calendar is already mapped out and the training schedule is planned. So I may as well continue jumping in with both feet, because so far it seems to be working out for me.

bike
Not enough time
There is never enough time. Outside of eating, sleeping, cooking, cleaning, personal hygiene, socializing, walking the dog, quality time with the boyfriend, and a Monday to Friday 8-4 job, I’m left with few precious hours to train. Sometimes I look at my training schedule and wonder how it will all fit into my day. In fact I find it challenging from week to week to properly fit it all in without overdoing it or missing something. Today was a prime example of trying to do too much at once. I was scheduled for a two-hour endurance ride and a form practice swim lesson at 7pm. Waking up at 430am to get in nutrition, stretching, the ride, a shower, and travel to work, seemed a little unreasonable, so I figured I’d make a mad dash home at 4pm, hop on the trainer, then rush off to my swim class at 630; totally doable. Cue 415 and I’m flailing through the front door, scrambling into my bike shorts, filling up water bottles, and grabbing TV remotes (trust me, you need TV for an endurance ride on the trainer). I finally got properly seated in the saddle and I had a Gatorade in one hand and two remotes in the other, surfing for the hockey game. At this point I was still frantically settling myself in for a long ride, and as I reached down to the coffee table, mid cycle, for my water bottle cap, the law of gravity embraced my large off-balanced body and, wham! I had the trainer and bike on its side and on top of me, my body slammed up against the side of the table with a handlebar jammed into the top of my thigh.
In the moment, horrendous curse words flew from my mouth and rage, panic and frustration welled up inside of me. I learn a valuable lesson today about training and about being reasonable. My training schedules are automatically generated for me based off my goals. It doesn’t take into account eating, cooking, sleeping, my boyfriend, or life in general. It just demands hours and mileage. But as an age group triathlete who will probably never grace the podium, I have to be realistic with my goals. I want to get better and I want a challenge, yet I still need to have time for everything else. What I learned is that training needs to fit your life, and sometimes it’s OK to miss a workout, or to take an extra day off. The top age groupers may believe their life revolves around the sport, but for me, until this sport will pay my bills, I will be left scrambling for time to fit it in. It will be a delicate balance, but frantically rushing from one thing to the next and falling on top of coffee tables seems like a bit much to me.
Pavilion Lake 2013 – 1:29
Like the cold winds that sweep in with the passing of summer, triathlon season has also begun to see its leaves turn. Mornings are too dark for early rides, cool winds require long pants, open water swims are too cold, and rain drops, dark clouds and cool temperatures dampen my spirits. Yet, with one last warm, sunny, bright summer weekend, I got in just one more race of the season at Pavilion Lake.
On the drive out, I remember feeling unexpectedly relaxed. On any other race day, I would have described myself as jittery, shaky and fluttering. Yet, on this morning I didn’t sense any form of nervousness or apprehension.
This was my third race of the season, and I now know what I am capable of doing. I know that I won’t drown, my legs won’t stop working, I won’t get lost on the course, fall off my bike, or otherwise fail. Four months ago, I would have thought that any one of those predicaments could be possible. Being confident and trusting in my abilities is so reassuring.
I couldn’t have asked for a better way to end the season. I felt strong in the swim, killed the bike, but the run was a challenge, as always. Heading into winter training, I know that my focus will be on my running. Sometimes I feel as though I am carrying concrete slabs for legs. I continually scream quietly, yet loudly to myself, “you’re light as a feather; run like a Kenyan; mind over matter, mind over matter.” It doesn’t seem to do a thing, as I continue to saunter along like a 2 tonne elephant. But that’s all in the process of getting stronger and better and learning. Along with expensive chiropractic and massage appointments, early mornings, tired work days, shin splints, blisters, road rash, chlorine hair, higher grocery bills, and more money spent on new equipment, coaches and gym memberships. It sounds kind of off-putting, yet I don’t foresee myself quitting anytime soon. It’s just part of the package.
This journey has also been much easier because of friends, family, coaches and training partners who support me. Most recently, I will never forget when my best friend came out to cheer me on and not only screamed my name at every turn along the course, and made me feel like a champion, but also spontaneously became one of the volunteers, helping with set up and timing. She was also the loudest one and perhaps the only one shouting in excitement when I won second place in my age group (it was a small event). She was proud of me, and I know that she would have been proud even if I did drown, fall off my bike, or get lost on the course. Sometimes racing in the sport of triathlon can be lonely, daunting and unforgiving, but with the support of those around me, the voices in my head yell at me with a little bit more encouragement, telling me that yes, my thunderous thighs will propel me to victory.
As I head into the off season I am already planning next race season, and feeling excited for more stories of my training through the next eight months as I continue my journey to one hundred forty point six miles.