All Moved In and Loving This Town!

I am all moved in (as you may have gathered from the title of the post.. feelin' clever!) and aside from a case of cardboard poisoning, appear to have survived the whole experience rather well.  So far, I am loving Austin.  This is one excellent town.  Bikers abound.  Runners abound.  Kayakers abound.  Musicians abound. I think I am about the only thing here with all feet on the ground, though I will bound just as soon as I can!  Seriously, this might be the most bike friendly, outdoorsy city I have ever seen.  

Now that I have that little bit of gushing out of my system, I have other news.  I started back cautiously this week.  I am not running but carefully... like a child handling a bird's nest... began training again.  Just a little bike ride.

The first trip out felt horrid.  I came home and wanted to cry.  I had to get off my bike after about ten miles because I nearly passed out.  I didn't have my HR monitor on but it felt like it was about to leap through my mouth and go screaming down the veloway.  I got back on after a couple of minutes and cautiously peddled back to the car.

Today was a different story.  I was doing low intensity work, just spinning really, but I found the zone.  I was churning out my miles with a smile.  I felt like my form was pretty good too.  Knees in, back flat, pulling around the back side of the pedal stroke, rhythmic, turning the crank like a piston...  Pure bliss.  I didn't have a long workout on the schedule, but after so much forced downtime, I am just happy to be back in the saddle!  Tomorrow I get back in the pool.

The rest of this week and next are all swim-bike.  I don't know when the run will appear but I am fairly nervous and anxious about it.  It has been such a long road this year and I am so afraid that I will try to run and go back to square one.

It has occurred to me that it would be easy right now to give up on running, say I can't, walk away and put it into the past.  But that is not what I want.  I want this, running and particularly triathlon, to be a part of my life.   I took the other road once before when I ushered martial arts training into my history.  Even though I stand by that decision, there isn't a day that I at least for a moment consider going back.  I don't believe that tri's have the same intrinsically detrimental movements that martial arts had and that, with the right conditioning, I should be able to train and race well into the future.   I certainly hope so.

Fingers crossed!

Duck in the Wind

I am still traveling.  This summer has brought me to the edge of the Grand Traverse Bay, the fields and farms of the Bluegrass region, and now to Texas hill country.  I had a week off between Kentucky and Texas and spent some serious quality time in the state and national forests between Lexington and Dallas. Hiking and trail running renewed my love for the run.   My foot seemed inclined to forgive me my indiscretions as well.

However, after arriving in Texas, renewed and refreshed... feeling strong, I attempted a short, slow run one night on a treadmill.  My ankle and foot flared up worse than ever and I am coming to the realization that if I am able to run again, it won't be for a very long time.  Night after night, working on my feet, the injury has gotten progressively worse.  I am deeply concerned about the state of the Achilles tendon, which unlike plantar fasciitis, can get worse and result in a rupture which would prevent me from working as well as working out.  I am reluctantly taking the need for R&R seriously.

There is a lot of upheaval in my life right now and I am considering a move to alleviate the volume of travel while increasing my workload.  Hours spent in the car are neither profitable, productive or enjoyable.  If I sacrifice proximity to the ocean and living every day under the shade of coconut palms, I may be able to improve the overall quality of life.   These are the big questions and I need a few long hours on the bicycle to figure it out.

It's fine for dust to be in the wind, but these days, I am in the wind.  The feeling is both disconcerting and liberating at the same time.

The Duck is Stuck.

The turmoil ridden events of the last several months have caused a big setback in my fitness.  Overwork and stress led to exhaustion and depression.  All this led to an injury that has kept me benched in the running department for a while. 

But that is not it.  That is what I tell myself and others, but that is not it.

My new job is prompting a move to California.  I love Florida and have known greater happiness and success here than any other place I have lived.  My old job caused me great injury and the horrendous schedule damaged my life, my body, and my training, but it was also something I understood.  I knew how to be resourceful and make a living with that job.  As much as it sucked, I trusted it.  My new job requires me to expand and grow to be successful.  I have to master new skills and live a forward thinking life.

  I read somewhere that all endurance athletes are running from something.  I can't say that I am the exception to that. 

California is where I grew up, so going there is a little like going back... something I have never done.  I have to go back and the only thing I associate with my past is pain.  I have been paralyzed in my own life lately.  I am not earning (though it is the off season down here and my earning potential here is small.... hence the move, but I am not trying either).  All I can think about is the move but I feel like I am encased in cement indecision. 

The worst part is that I realize that I am not going to be able to do the move without help.  I don't know who I will ask, or for what, but I will have to hold my hat out and ask for aid.  That is not easy for me. 

The last week has been an exercise in the art of escapism.  Thankfully, I have not decided to go on a whiskey or cookie binge, or something equally self-destructive.  Rather, I am hiding.  I am watching TV (on the computer).  I never watch TV.  That is why I don't have a TV. 

I thought about cancelling Netflix, but then I would just pick up a book, or a magazine, or something.  It's not about the escape vehicle, it's what you are running from that needs to be fixed. 

Normally, I dive into my workouts but this time I am avoiding them.  Not the solo workouts, the group workouts... the workouts that I live for... the ones I love. 

I think I am pulling away from everything because I am scared.  I am scared of the pain I am going to feel when I tear myself away from everything I love here.  I am scared that I will fail and yet that will become a self-fulfilling prophecy soon if I do not get my shit together.  But then I think that is it.  I am scared.  So scared that I am putting my head in the sand.  I am pretending that life is not marching forward with me in tow.  I have emotionally curled into the fetal position and declared that I cannot do this.  I am not this strong.

Problem is that I am also a master of putting one foot in front of the other.  Moving like a zombie through the hardest parts of life just to keep going.  And I am continuing forward.  I am slowly packing.  I did put in notice with my building.  I am severing ties with the life I have here. 

The problem is that I am waiting on something to begin establishing ties to my new life there, starting with renting an apartment.  That is the reason for the increasing sense of both panic and rootlessness. 

Why am I not renting an apartment and booking the move?  Because I am waiting on my boss to provide the trailer I am supposed to use to transport my things across the country.  Until I know when I will have that, I don't know when I will move out.  The trip across the country will take about 8 days and most landlords will only hold a unit for 7-14 days.  After that I am paying rent on an empty unit which I cannot afford to do. 

So, it is like I am stuck at the starting line and the race just won't begin.  The pre-race jitters are starting to overwhelm me.

That is it. 

But my foot also hurts, which hardly helps.