Monday, May 20, 2013

Tempering Expectations.

Lately, life and triathlon training have gone head to head with my job and my job has been winning.

A quote from my twitter feed: 
"This week my job executed a hostile takeover of life, training, health, well-being. I'm still standing but those four are on the mats"

I think it was something like this:

Look at my job go!
Look at how effortlessly it destroys everything in it's path.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is display of raw power!

I don't actually get a day off this week as I have a little work to do today but at least I didn't have to work last night and I got some serious sleep.  I feel better but very one dimensional.  I wouldn't be stressing about this but I have a race next monday and the last week went like this:

Monday: Bad run leads to total meltdown.

Tuesday: Drive to Tyler, TX, get a stomach flu.

Wednesday: Recover from stomach flu by staying up all night and braiding 15 horses in 13 hours (figure 60-70 mins/horse is a reasonable estimate) because that was all the time I had!

Thursday: After a round of insomnia, repeat Wednesday. Whimper a few times.

Friday:  Get 5 hours sleep, repeat Thursday, add an extra horse.  Note that IT Band and knee are totally flared up from so much "good ladder time".  Seriously question sanity, consider a life of crime.

Saturday: Sleep 7 hours, struggle to tie shoes.  Be relieved that the list drops to 10 horses even though it takes almost 13 hours to do them because you are so sore.  After work which including collection drags on until 12 pm, go for lunch (breakfast? Dinner?), throw caution to the wind and drink Margarita and eat chips.  Pass out as soon as arriving home.

Sunday:  Sleep until 8 pm.  Go back to bed at 9:30 pm.

Monday: Wake up at 9 am.  Question sanity.  Blog over coffee.

Back to the title of the blog.

Until just recently- kind of last week- it was still spring in Texas (winter two weeks ago).  Wednesday night a nasty storm rolled through and now it's summertime.  The temps have skyrocketed and the air has that feel of summer that goes beyond being hot.  Since it is May in Texas (Last year it was triple digits by Memorial day), I can only assume it will stay that way.  I have not trained... not one mile logged since Monday.  I am not acclimating to the heat I will probably deal with next week at CapTex.  I am going to pay for that.

Also, CapTex is a runners race, in my opinion, for age groupers.  I am going off in the 14th wave on a tight course with a lot of turnarounds, four laps, and 3500 racers.  I am unlikely to ever get out of traffic.  My running lately has been less than stellar.  My ITB issues are already speaking up due to too much time on the ladder and next week is threatening to be nearly as busy as this one.  Frankly, between this, the lack of training, and the heat, I'll be lucky to not be walking the run and there will be little chance to kill it on the bike.

Final nail in the coffin?  The swim.  I did essentially the same route last year and found that the current required my to swim stronger with my weak side.  I almost couldn't manage the turn at all.  I have been working on swimming straighter but that is only so much help when the current is pushing you towards an injured shoulder.  I had my worst swim time ever on this course last fall and I am not expecting tons of improvement now.

I have to face the fact that this race IS going to come down to the dreaded run.

It comes down to the run...
wait, something is wrong with this image... Hmmm.


There... fixed it.
That's more like it.

There are a million good reasons to scratch from this race.  There is an overwhelming body of evidence that I should simply dial it back and focus on finishing.  I have all the reasons in the world to just cruise this and call it an expensive training day.

Why all the doom and gloom?  Because I am trying to take a dose of reality with my morning coffee.  My morale has been suffering enough lately without any big surprises here.

But also... because I fight my best fights when I KNOW I am behind the 8-ball.  The duck loves to be the underdog.  Knowing that, deep down, will bring out that tenacious scrapper that latches on and never gives up, no matter how painful and regardless of the ultimate outcome.  It becomes about the fight... outcome be damned.

I will need her next week because nothing else is going to help me.







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