It has been a month since my big race, the glow has faded somewhat, and reality has set in. The grind of daily life has ramped up, and I have found myself struggling to figure out how I was able to fit 9-10 hours of training in each week for 4 months amid all of the chaos swirling around me. From my current vantage point, it seems impossible to undertake such an ambitious goal as I did, and it makes me feel tremendous mommy guilt. A natural feeling, I suppose.
The best thing I can do for my family and myself is to keep pushing forward. In the three years since I began running and racing, I have changed in such a fundamental way and it has been all for the better. Sure, I have lost weight from my thighs, my arms, my tummy. Even more important, though, has been the weight that has been lifted from the places that nobody can see. I am physically and mentally stronger than I have ever been in my life, and I see no options other than to keep moving forward and to keep getting stronger.
I am ready to race again, but I know that my body needs a break. I've been swimming and running (still not ready to hop back on the bike), working out about 4 times a week. Core training and yoga are creeping their way back in to my routine, and all I can say about that is YOWCH! Take my advice, don't stop working on your core for 11 months.
I have outlined very specific fitness and racing goals for 2014, and none of them involve a Half or a Full Ironman race. Those days will come again in the not-too-distant future, I just need to have the time and energy to devote to those huge physical and mental undertakings. But, for now, I am looking to get faster, to improve and even perfect to a degree my short distance racing because, as slow as my time was at IM 70.3 Augusta, I really feel like my body and temperament are more cut out for long distance racing. So, my challenge for 2014 is to conquer the short distances, and to feel fast. And maybe see a podium finish here and there.
2014 Fitness Goals
1. To run a 25 minute 5k. That's an 8:02 min/mile pace, folks. Not exactly Usain Bolt territory, but lightning fast in my mind.
2. To run a 53 minute 10k. An 8:31 pace. For me, that's equivalent to breaking the sound barrier.
3. A sub-3 hour Olympic triathlon. I'm planning on racing at St. Anthony's next April, which is where I did my first Olympic distance. It didn't turn out so well for me, I died on the run. Training for the race might have helped. This time around, I plan on training long and hard. 2:59:59 is fine with me.
4. A podium finish in a Sprint triathlon. I won my age group once at a sprint triathlon. It was beginner's luck, and all of the fast people were obviously racing elsewhere that day. This time, I want to RACE and I want to EARN that podium spot honestly.
5. To get stronger on the bike. This is a bit ambiguous, but being that I am consistently at the bottom of the list in the bike department, I have nowhere to go but UP! Strength training and long rides will be on the agenda in the coming year.
6. To join a Master's swim team. This is a big one. I have the opportunity, I have the means, now I just have to work up the courage to submit myself to a coach for the first time in a really long time. I just hope she goes easy on me. Well, not too easy. Otherwise, what's the point?
I would love to hear some of your fitness goals! None are too small and all are big!
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Monday, November 4, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Ironman Augusta 70.3 Training Log, Week #6
I am deeply entrenched into the training program, and it has successfully overtaken just about every aspect of my life. Midway into the sixth week, I am starting to experience the telltale signs of training stress: the tweaks, the aches, the fatigue. I am trying to stay focused, and keep my eyes on the prize. The prize being that feeling of crossing the finish line and knowing that I have pushed my body and spent all of its resources without taking it all for granted.
Last week's training was tough, I'm not going to lie. As much as I would love to sit here and say that I am coasting through each training session, I just can't. Even the swims are tough, and those usually feel like a rest day for me. The fourth training week was a recovery week, meaning the workouts were shorter and less strenuous than the week before, and I was successful at completing each and every minute of them. Last week, the fifth week, not only put me back on the track, but it thrust me into the fast lane. While I completed every minute of every scheduled workout of the week, I paid for it in pain and exhaustion. The training plan seems to ignore the 10% rule, and my mileage was jacked up a lot more than that, particularly in the running department, arguably my weakest link in the triathlon chain.
A rough 75-minute run on Sunday on a really hilly course has left me spent. I worked through it during Monday's 60-minute swim, successfully completing five 500-yard sets intermingled with some 100-yard backstroke recovery sets, for a total of 3100 yards. Yesterday brought a 60-minute bike ride, and my legs wanted nothing to do with it. I got through it, at a glacial 14-15 mph average pace.
My hamstring is giving me fits again, and I am just so fearful of being injured. I do not want to be the one who limps through a race for 9 hours. I want to be the one who triumphantly completes the race, feeling spent but strong.
This morning, the plan was to do a 60-minute interval run. My husband and I were up and out the door before 5 a.m., and it became quickly apparent that there would be no intervals, and that 60 minutes was a laughable suggestion. I came to the conclusion that I still have 10 weeks of training and that little Half Ironman triathlon to get through, and I'd like to do it injury-free, so we hobbled through a mere 30-minute run, choosing to listen to our bodies rather than pound through the pain. Sometimes it is smarter to back off in order to be able to keep playing until the end of the game.
If it sounds difficult, it is. If I sound beaten down, I'm not quite there. The workouts are tough, but the gratitude I feel toward my body at the end of the day makes it worth it. With as little time that we are given in our bodies, I think it is a shame to waste that time not seeing what they are capable of.
Overall, I am enjoying the training. Most days after a workout, I feel strong and pleased with my progress, even if I feel weakened and sore. The aches and the tweaks are to be expected, I have done this enough at this point to know that. What I need to continue to work on is my recovery and my nutrition, both of which are lacking. It's difficult to take the time to stretch, roll, and rest when I've already taken so much time away from my family to do the workouts. I suppose that I can swim, bike, and run through some of the fatigue and pain, but I will never be able to outpace that damned guilt.
Onward and upward!
Last week's training was tough, I'm not going to lie. As much as I would love to sit here and say that I am coasting through each training session, I just can't. Even the swims are tough, and those usually feel like a rest day for me. The fourth training week was a recovery week, meaning the workouts were shorter and less strenuous than the week before, and I was successful at completing each and every minute of them. Last week, the fifth week, not only put me back on the track, but it thrust me into the fast lane. While I completed every minute of every scheduled workout of the week, I paid for it in pain and exhaustion. The training plan seems to ignore the 10% rule, and my mileage was jacked up a lot more than that, particularly in the running department, arguably my weakest link in the triathlon chain.
A rough 75-minute run on Sunday on a really hilly course has left me spent. I worked through it during Monday's 60-minute swim, successfully completing five 500-yard sets intermingled with some 100-yard backstroke recovery sets, for a total of 3100 yards. Yesterday brought a 60-minute bike ride, and my legs wanted nothing to do with it. I got through it, at a glacial 14-15 mph average pace.
My hamstring is giving me fits again, and I am just so fearful of being injured. I do not want to be the one who limps through a race for 9 hours. I want to be the one who triumphantly completes the race, feeling spent but strong.
This morning, the plan was to do a 60-minute interval run. My husband and I were up and out the door before 5 a.m., and it became quickly apparent that there would be no intervals, and that 60 minutes was a laughable suggestion. I came to the conclusion that I still have 10 weeks of training and that little Half Ironman triathlon to get through, and I'd like to do it injury-free, so we hobbled through a mere 30-minute run, choosing to listen to our bodies rather than pound through the pain. Sometimes it is smarter to back off in order to be able to keep playing until the end of the game.
If it sounds difficult, it is. If I sound beaten down, I'm not quite there. The workouts are tough, but the gratitude I feel toward my body at the end of the day makes it worth it. With as little time that we are given in our bodies, I think it is a shame to waste that time not seeing what they are capable of.
Overall, I am enjoying the training. Most days after a workout, I feel strong and pleased with my progress, even if I feel weakened and sore. The aches and the tweaks are to be expected, I have done this enough at this point to know that. What I need to continue to work on is my recovery and my nutrition, both of which are lacking. It's difficult to take the time to stretch, roll, and rest when I've already taken so much time away from my family to do the workouts. I suppose that I can swim, bike, and run through some of the fatigue and pain, but I will never be able to outpace that damned guilt.
Onward and upward!
Monday, June 17, 2013
Ironman Augusta 70.3 Training Log, Week #1
I made it through the first week of honest-to-goodness training for Ironman Augusta 70.3. It was a tough week, emotionally and physically, and there were moments that I wondered why I am putting my body through this. If you've ever trained for a triathlon or any big race, then you probably realize that thinking that way in the first week of a training program is not really a good thing.
The workouts weren't difficult. They were tiring, and I realized that I have some work to do so that I do not go splat on the race course in September.
Monday - I was supposed to swim 45 minutes, but given the fact that our dog passed away, I took a rest day. By that, I mean I lay on my couch and cried all day long and into the wee hours of the night.
Tuesday - I decided to make up for missing Monday's swim by doubling up. I did a road ride for the schedules 60 minutes in the morning - a little over 16 miles - and swam in the early evening as my kids were practicing with their swim team. Doubles usually don't bother me, especially if there is no running involved, but this workout day left me drained.
Wednesday - A 45-minute run, which ended up being 4.65 miles and included a longer-than-should-have-been walk break. I have talked about my absolute LOVE of running before, and today it enveloped me like a big sweaty grizzly bear and choked the hell out of me. I felt clunky and uncoordinated, and SLOW. The humidity in Florida in the summer cannot adequately be described, it must be experienced. Even at 4:45 a.m., it is a mean and mocking little SOB. In the cool months of winter, I almost get to the point where I like running. But in June, I want to humiliate it in front of its friends.
Thursday - I swam again while the kiddos practiced, and got in 2000 yards in 42 minutes. The plan called for 45 minutes, but I doubt the 3 minutes lost is going to make a bit of difference in the end. I worked on my backstroke, and 600 yards of the workout was kicking drills because I have no kick and, for their size, extremely weak legs. This affects me not only in the pool, but also on the bike. So, despite the fact that I practically move backwards in the pool when I do it, I did kick drills. And I also observed that 9-15 year-olds swim a lot faster than I do.
Friday - A rest day, amen and hallelujah! When training for any type of race, you grow to relish rest days, even if you have a twinge of guilt over not training on those days. Especially when you see someone working out. Then you feel lazy. Somehow, though, I manage to get over it as I sip my cold drink while lying by my pool.
Saturday - Weekend workouts are the long workouts, and both my husband and I moan and groan about them while in training. Today, we were working out with some people from our tri club, a swim-bike brick workout. I had a decent swim, I felt a little tired but was still able to get in 1900 yards of mostly freestyle and a little backstroke, plus I more than made up for the 3 minutes I skipped out on during Thursday's swim. That was followed by the bike ride from hell, a hilly and painful 22 mile ride on county roads. My favorite part was having a panic attack when we went over Interstate 75. Bridges scare the hell out of me, and I wasn't expecting to have to deal with an overpass, whose bike lane was a little too narrow and close to the edge for me. Oh, and the tractor truck that blew by me at the precise moment that I looked down at the road below when I really do know better than to do that was just the cherry on the cake. And I realized that I need a new bike saddle. In fact, I am reminded - even at this moment - every time I sit down.
Sunday - Long run day, my favorite day! Not really. We were thankful for an overcast morning and there was a breeze, so the humidity behaved itself somewhat. Both husband and I were really tired, our legs were tired, our arms were tired, our brains were close to flatlining. So we did a run/walk/run thing. We ran a mile and walked one minute, for 6.2 miles. It was actually quite pleasant, we could talk to each other during the workout, and the walking only slowed us down a little bit. The run/walk thing is difficult for a lot of runners, because you don't feel like it's really a run if you do any walking whatsoever. To that, I say get over yourself. It took me a while to get there, but I am realizing that my legs feel less tired for the rest of the day when I give them a little bit of a break during some workouts.
Total training time logged: 6 hours, 24 minutes
I realize now that my fatigue is likely the result of two doubles during the week. I feel good that I was able to get in all of my scheduled workouts, and didn't have the urge to blow off even one of them. It's like being able to check every item off a to-do list, and if you are like me, then you are all like, Yes! I got it ALL done! I am Super-multitasker! And then you make your next to-do list.
On to week #2!
The workouts weren't difficult. They were tiring, and I realized that I have some work to do so that I do not go splat on the race course in September.
Monday - I was supposed to swim 45 minutes, but given the fact that our dog passed away, I took a rest day. By that, I mean I lay on my couch and cried all day long and into the wee hours of the night.
Tuesday - I decided to make up for missing Monday's swim by doubling up. I did a road ride for the schedules 60 minutes in the morning - a little over 16 miles - and swam in the early evening as my kids were practicing with their swim team. Doubles usually don't bother me, especially if there is no running involved, but this workout day left me drained.
Wednesday - A 45-minute run, which ended up being 4.65 miles and included a longer-than-should-have-been walk break. I have talked about my absolute LOVE of running before, and today it enveloped me like a big sweaty grizzly bear and choked the hell out of me. I felt clunky and uncoordinated, and SLOW. The humidity in Florida in the summer cannot adequately be described, it must be experienced. Even at 4:45 a.m., it is a mean and mocking little SOB. In the cool months of winter, I almost get to the point where I like running. But in June, I want to humiliate it in front of its friends.
Thursday - I swam again while the kiddos practiced, and got in 2000 yards in 42 minutes. The plan called for 45 minutes, but I doubt the 3 minutes lost is going to make a bit of difference in the end. I worked on my backstroke, and 600 yards of the workout was kicking drills because I have no kick and, for their size, extremely weak legs. This affects me not only in the pool, but also on the bike. So, despite the fact that I practically move backwards in the pool when I do it, I did kick drills. And I also observed that 9-15 year-olds swim a lot faster than I do.
Friday - A rest day, amen and hallelujah! When training for any type of race, you grow to relish rest days, even if you have a twinge of guilt over not training on those days. Especially when you see someone working out. Then you feel lazy. Somehow, though, I manage to get over it as I sip my cold drink while lying by my pool.
Saturday - Weekend workouts are the long workouts, and both my husband and I moan and groan about them while in training. Today, we were working out with some people from our tri club, a swim-bike brick workout. I had a decent swim, I felt a little tired but was still able to get in 1900 yards of mostly freestyle and a little backstroke, plus I more than made up for the 3 minutes I skipped out on during Thursday's swim. That was followed by the bike ride from hell, a hilly and painful 22 mile ride on county roads. My favorite part was having a panic attack when we went over Interstate 75. Bridges scare the hell out of me, and I wasn't expecting to have to deal with an overpass, whose bike lane was a little too narrow and close to the edge for me. Oh, and the tractor truck that blew by me at the precise moment that I looked down at the road below when I really do know better than to do that was just the cherry on the cake. And I realized that I need a new bike saddle. In fact, I am reminded - even at this moment - every time I sit down.
Sunday - Long run day, my favorite day! Not really. We were thankful for an overcast morning and there was a breeze, so the humidity behaved itself somewhat. Both husband and I were really tired, our legs were tired, our arms were tired, our brains were close to flatlining. So we did a run/walk/run thing. We ran a mile and walked one minute, for 6.2 miles. It was actually quite pleasant, we could talk to each other during the workout, and the walking only slowed us down a little bit. The run/walk thing is difficult for a lot of runners, because you don't feel like it's really a run if you do any walking whatsoever. To that, I say get over yourself. It took me a while to get there, but I am realizing that my legs feel less tired for the rest of the day when I give them a little bit of a break during some workouts.
Total training time logged: 6 hours, 24 minutes
I realize now that my fatigue is likely the result of two doubles during the week. I feel good that I was able to get in all of my scheduled workouts, and didn't have the urge to blow off even one of them. It's like being able to check every item off a to-do list, and if you are like me, then you are all like, Yes! I got it ALL done! I am Super-multitasker! And then you make your next to-do list.
On to week #2!
Monday, May 6, 2013
The Guilt Monster
It's a fine line to walk, this triathlon hobby I participate in. I often tell my husband that it's a selfish thing that we do. The training sessions can be long, meaning that our children (older and responsible, but still) are left to care for themselves sometimes. The training sessions can be tiring, meaning that helping with homework, cooking supper, and doing the mundane responsibilities that are part of life can take longer and add a little more stress to things when you are physically and mentally drained. There is work that, for my husband, means 12 hour days away from the house, and having to find time to fit in a run or a ride or a swim either at 4 in the morning or quickly at lunch or at 8 at night. For me, I work at home in the mornings and I am on chauffeur duty every afternoon. Fitting it every single thing that has to be done at work, at home, for the kids, and for me can be tough. The guilt monster shows his scary face on a regular basis.
Naturally, I feel guilt about doing something expensive and time-consuming, being a mom and all. I did sign some kind of invisible agreement when I gave birth swearing that I would devote every ounce of time, energy, and piece of myself to my children until they turn 18, right? Right.
Martyrdom doesn't suit me at all.
I would be lying if I didn't admit that I envy the folks I know who either don't have kids, or whose kids are grown and they are able to devote all of their time to triathlon, or running, or sky diving, or glass blowing, or whatever so-called selfish hobby they've taken up. I would be lying if I said I don't feel judged - even though I've never heard a cross remark from anyone besides my mother - about having children and dragging them to race weekends or going out on 3 hour training rides while they are at home or hanging out with their friends.
Should I have just waited until it was MY turn, until they are grown up and have moved on? NO. Why is that?
Because I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Because I recognized the chance to improve my body and my spirit and be a more active mom and a happier mom, and I seized it. Because I knew that my kids could learn that nothing worthwhile is easy, that it comes from hard work and falling down and picking yourself up and carrying on. But yet, I still feel the weight of the guilt monster sitting on my shoulders.
Guilt is an ugly thing, and most times it is uncalled for. But it isn't nearly as ugly as the pain of regret.
Naturally, I feel guilt about doing something expensive and time-consuming, being a mom and all. I did sign some kind of invisible agreement when I gave birth swearing that I would devote every ounce of time, energy, and piece of myself to my children until they turn 18, right? Right.
Martyrdom doesn't suit me at all.
I would be lying if I didn't admit that I envy the folks I know who either don't have kids, or whose kids are grown and they are able to devote all of their time to triathlon, or running, or sky diving, or glass blowing, or whatever so-called selfish hobby they've taken up. I would be lying if I said I don't feel judged - even though I've never heard a cross remark from anyone besides my mother - about having children and dragging them to race weekends or going out on 3 hour training rides while they are at home or hanging out with their friends.
Should I have just waited until it was MY turn, until they are grown up and have moved on? NO. Why is that?
Because I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Because I recognized the chance to improve my body and my spirit and be a more active mom and a happier mom, and I seized it. Because I knew that my kids could learn that nothing worthwhile is easy, that it comes from hard work and falling down and picking yourself up and carrying on. But yet, I still feel the weight of the guilt monster sitting on my shoulders.
Guilt is an ugly thing, and most times it is uncalled for. But it isn't nearly as ugly as the pain of regret.
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