Day 305: Am I Crazy?

This morning, I made a change in race plans. I switched from sprint-length to Olympic-length and will now be completing a triathlon precisely twice the distance of the one I originally signed up for. I'm feeling pretty okay about it, actually. Not quite confident, but okay. (I think I can, I think I can, I think I can).

It wasn't quite a spur-of-the-moment decision. I thought about it all weekend, after finding out that my son had a make-up soccer game on the same day and at the same time as the triathlon I'd originally signed up for (and my husband coaches his team). We could have blown off the game, of course, or I could have competed without family there, but I decided to check with the organizers about switching. Completing the duathlon, and in better time than I'd thought possible, gave me the confidence to consider it. The organizers didn't get back to me right away, so I decided whatever would be, would be.

This morning, I got the message: yup, it's easy to switch.

I hummed for about fifteen minutes, and then I took the leap.

Of course, it's the swim that worries me. I need to get into a lake in my wetsuit. And the longer distance will increase the challenge -- double it, to be precise. But when I started this process, Olympic-length was what I had in mind. At the time, I didn't know whether I could even swim the length of a pool. I'd also never run 10km, let alone cycled 40, let alone done all three consecutively.

Just doing this, in less than a year -- assuming that I can and I do -- would be a pretty amazing accomplishment.

There was an article in the newspaper today about happiness (and it kind of relates to my previous post on competition). It said that realistic expectations keep people happy. If your life doesn't meet your expectations for your life, it has a depressing effect. But you could have the exact same life and with different expectations be a happy person. In other words, our state of mind has less to do with our external circumstances and more to do with how accepting we are of what life brings.

I'm not sure where I fit in with that. I do have pretty high expectations for myself, and it motivates me to keep working hard. But I don't like when I get down on myself despite working as hard as possible. I'll admit: I was down on myself for about a day and a half after my duathlon because the final run was not at the pace I'd wanted to achieve. Ridiculous! Instead of being thrilled at showing up and finishing and going as hard as I possibly could, I was bummed out for not having done better.

But I cheered up pretty fast. And it only made me want to try harder next time. So were my expectations too high? Maybe. Can I lower my expecations for my first ever triathlon? Can I genuinely embrace my original goal of simple completion, or will I be bummed if it takes me more than an hour to run that final 10km? Which it might, on those legs of water.

Here's what I'm hoping for; in fact, it's the best I can possibly hope for: I hope to be happy with the effort put in and the bravery of simply showing up. And if it takes me longer than expected, if I have to change a flat tire along the way or even stop and walk to make it, I hope I'll finish smiling anyway, and smile all the way home. If I can cross the finish line ... well, nine months ago that was a pretty huge "if", and if I can ... wow.

(What the heck am I going to do after that??)

:::

Oh, forgot to check in with last week's summing up: four runs (including duathlon; total = 39km); one swim, one bike rides (duathlon: 30km), and two yoga classes. I also got up earlyish one morning and did yoga on my own to start the day.

This week's plan: two swims, five runs (including a couple of short ones), one/two bike rides, two yoga classes. I kicked off the week with a 50-minute swim that felt pretty good, though not fast, followed by a quick 5km run: 5km in 22 minutes. That's about 4:25/km. I was pleased.

Day 303: Long Run

This morning, I went for a long run. I planned to run 15km, and the idea of the long run is to go fairly slowly. But I found that I didn't want to go all that slowly. I felt so good! So I let myself run. I ran 15km in an hour and twenty minutes; not quite my half-marathon pace, but close. It is just the best feeling to be able to run and run and run. I decided to stay at my edge, where my breathing was very controlled and rhythmic, and to let myself stay at that pace as long as my breathing stayed sure. I find that in races, I'm running harder, and my breathing gets much heavier. I didn't want to run that hard.

Today, I thought about how far I've come on this journey. I don't always take time to appreciate it, because as soon as I've accomplished something, I'm pushing toward something else. I've decided to embrace that part of my personality. It's just who I am. It's how I write, too. I'm pleased with a story, and then give it some time and come back and discover that it could be improved, so I work even harder. The story may never be perfect, in my mind, but that doesn't mean I'm not proud of it. Somehow I've found the same pleasure and balance in my running/swimming/cycling. I love doing it. And I love doing it even when I'm pushing myself to go faster and even when it's hard and it hurts. I love doing it even when I wish I were capable of doing it better. Feeling like I could do better doesn't discourage me, it has the opposite effect--it makes me want to try even harder. I might have a moment of feeling down (like I do when a story has been rejected, or I read a bad review), but the pain or disappointment only lasts a short while, and before I know it my spirit bounces back with even greater drive and intent.

I think in a funny way, I'm as motivated by failure as I am by success. I'm certainly not afraid of failure. Or of success.

So that's how I'm thinking about my naturally competitive spirit, these days. I'm coming to terms with it. I'm embracing it. The bar for accomplishment is always of my own setting, and hopefully mostly in line with my actual abilities.

And there's nothing like running and running and running. Nothing. I can hardly think of anything that brings me greater happiness. Best of all, when I got home from the run, the older kids were waiting and ready to go: we'd agreed to run one or two kilometres together at the end of my run. My son surprised me by running two; my daughter was ready to stop after one (she ran it a bit too fast and got a cramp). What joy to hear my son say: "This is really fun, Mom!"

What a lot to be thankful for.

Day 302: New Goggles!

Apparently it was the goggles, not me! Yesterday evening, I squeezed in a few minutes between yoga and soccer to try on a bunch of different goggles at my favourite swim store -- and found a pair that fit. Finally. When I wore them in the pool this morning, they suctioned on effortlessly and stayed on til I pulled them off my face at the end of the swim. They are clear and I can see as I swim. (My others were tinted, which I hadn't even noticed). All the brightness and clarity underwater is a bit unnerving. But I think it will be useful to see during the race.

I swam confidently for the full hour, stopping only to let my lane partner pass me at the ends. (I never timed it quite right -- I would let her pass, and then the very next lap, she would let me pass so she could use the flutterboard; this happened almost every time I let her pass). I did not count lengths, but I know it was a strong swim. I feel more balanced in the water, and my shoulders seem to be rotating more smoothly and strongly.

This week, I've enjoyed two yoga classes, including a strength-building vinyasa class yesterday. I also ran on Wednesday morning. My friend and I went a little farther than usual, and then I extended my run afterward with my two eldest kids joining me! We went another two kilometres, so I ran a total of 10.

Today, I ran after my swim. I forgot that on swim/run combo days, which are usually on Mondays, I only swim for fifty minutes, so as to get home at a reasonable hour. So I decided to shorten my run slightly, and go as fast as I possibly could. In the duathlon, I ran the first 4km at 4:30/km, and that was my goal for this morning's run. It was really really hard, but I kept my legs churning as fast as they would go, and finished 4km in 17 minutes. That's 4:25/km. That gives me a good idea of how hard it is to run that fast.

I like running fast. I would like to build endurance and speed, and be able to run faster, gradually, over longer distances. I wanted to go one more kilometre this morning, but I was pretty tired, and I knew a hard day at work was waiting me at home.

Which I'm not doing right now because instead I'm blogging! Agh!

So ... back to work. Here's a link to my latest chatelaine.com post, on the cost of triathlon training and racing.

Day 300: Plans

With the long weekend and the duathlon, I never got to my summing up of the past week.

So here's what I did last week (ie. Monday to Sunday, which doesn't include the duathlon): one bike ride (30km, approximately), one swim, two runs, two yoga classes. Very very light. I felt tired most of the week, and anxious about the race.

Here is my plan for this week: one race (done! phew); and in addition to the biking and running in the race: two yoga classes, four runs, one bike ride, one swim. Light on the bike rides because of the duathlon. Missed a swim for the same reason. Need to get out in a lake. Hopefully next week. Also included in this week's plan is one relatively short bike ride followed by a short run, to work on those "brick" legs.

Day 299: Duathlon

Well, I didn't chicken out. Thanks to my friend, Tricia, and her husband, I got a ride to the race site, bike and all. We were there by 8:15am, got checked in, got our bikes racked, and had plenty of time to set up and use the bathroom (multiple times). There must have been more men than women in the race, because there was never a line-up for the women's washroom and the men were lined up out the door.

Tricia told me her race strategy: she thinks of each leg individually, and rather than trying to save herself for the end, she just goes as strong as she can. So that's how I ran each let, too. In the first run, I kept up with her, and we entered the transition area separated only by a second. But she flew out of the transition area, and I stopped for some water and gel. I never caught up. Her splits were faster on both of the next legs. I also wasted time during the second transition getting water (silly, when there are water stations on the way). Next time, I will carry water, not Gatorade, on my bicycle, because I was thirsty and the Gatorade tasted salty; and I will remember to treat the transition zones as part of the race. Still, it went more smoothly than I'd imagined. Gear off, gear on. I just kind of lost focus for a few seconds there. I was so happy to be done with the previous leg.

Anyway, here are my times: 18:04 for the first 4km (4:30/km; faster than I'd planned). 58:10 for the 30km bike ride. That put me at about 30km/hour. I had no idea what to expect and the course was challenging: hilly and windy. I was pleased with that portion of the race. I know what I need to work on, and I know my strengths. Uphill and into strong wind, I'm weirdly strongest. I'm not taking full advantage of most downhills. And on the flat road, I could push stronger, too. I also climb hills fast, but then find myself spent at the top, and tend to coast or cruise for a few breaths, which slows me down. On the whole, though, I think my cycling could become a strong part of my race, with some more conditioning. I have no fear when I'm out there. And I found that time slid by very happily. Since these are roads I'm familiar with, when we hit the homestretch, I was so pumped to know I would be turning off shortly and wouldn't have to be biking myself home.

So I finished that leg feeling great. I actually racked my bike just as Tricia was turning to run. But when I went to run, my legs felt like water. I felt like I was running atop a saddle or a diaper. My inner thighs seemed to have lost all strength. It was all I could do to put one leg in front of the other. I was so frustrated! And weary. I knew I could do it, and keep going, but that seemed to be all that I could do, and I wanted to be doing more: speeding up, pushing myself harder. My body just wouldn't cooperate. I crossed the finish line with a tiny sprint, but not my usual hard run. That final split came in at 21:48. Almost four minutes slower than the first run; yet actually not as slow as it felt like I'd been running (5:27/km). I felt like I was moving barely faster than a walk, which wasn't the case.

In the end, my overall time was 1:39:18. Not bad! I was 194/454 entrants, and 6th in my age category.

I have to admit that I'm having a hard time getting over my disappointment at that final pitiful run. But the funny thing is that I held position throughout the race, and a stronger run probably wouldn't have made much difference in terms of placement: I was positioned 5th (in my category) after the first run, and dropped a spot during the bike ride, and stayed where I was during the final run. I can see that positioning yourself well in the first leg is important. That's not going to be good for me in the triathlon, since I expect to be weak on the swim.

Overall, I'm pleased with the whole experience. I wish I'd been stronger, but for a first-time event, it really could hardly have been better. No flats, smooth transitions, just a little rain, pretty strong showing. I'm such a competitive person that I have a hard time setting reasonable expectations for myself, the further I've gotten in this training process as I've begun to recognize my own potential. I don't really like being a competitive person -- the competitive spirit can be harnessed in good ways, but for some reason it holds negative associations for me -- so it's been a struggle. How to be competitive without being too hard on myself. How to be competitive and humble and open to learning.

I wonder how much faster or stronger I can get. I only have so much training time, and these races take a toll on my family. I'm distracted and anxious in advance of the race, gone all day on race day, and tired afterward. It takes a lot out of me, but it also demands a lot from my family. I'm not sure how much more training it would take to bump me to a different level. I feel like perhaps I've plateau-ed here; not a bad spot to be in, really, and hugely stronger than I was 299 days ago, but one of the joys of training is sensing progress, and I'm not sure I've sensed much progress in the last while.

Oh, one final funny coincidence. My race number was 365!!! I thought that was pretty awesome, and a good omen, and I'm keeping my helmet number as a keepsake. Last year, my 365-project was a photo project; and this year, I've been thinking of the triathlon project as my 365-project.

I'm a lucky woman. I'm lucky to be able to pursue these projects. And who knows what will come of them. It's never quite what I imagine it will be; instead it's often richer and surprising. And I'm proud of how far I've come in 299 days.

Day 297: Run It Out

My to-do list is long today, and includes: get new swim goggles!! And gatorade for the race tomorrow! But it's started with a lovely 5km run, with my daughter biking alongside me, which is like a dream come true. When I was her age, I used to bike or run with my dad--bike on his longer jogs, and run with him on the shorter ones. He's the one who taught me to keep my feet quiet and not waste energy. It's basically the only training advice I've ever had, running-wise. I've looked forward to sharing similar moments with my own kids, but so far they haven't shown interest in running. So it was a thrill.

I woke feeling drained and worried, after a big birthday day yesterday (our eldest, who is now ten), and having suffered the most obvious anxiety dreams all night (ie. I'm at the duathlon pushing my bike, but I can't find the place to "rack" it, and the back wheel falls off, and I've left my bike shoes at home, and it's twenty minutes til start time, and I'm trying to fix the wheel, and my three-year-old is hanging off my arm, and and and you get the point). So as soon as I hopped out of bed, I put on my running clothes. My daughter happened to be hanging around, bored, so I suggested she join me. Off we went. We talked a lot about running and training. She said her soccer coach told the team that greater endurance basically just allows you to endure more pain. I think that's pretty accurate.

By the end, I felt healthy and strong and happy on the run--just the medicine for the pre-race jitters. A reminder that I know how to do this, and I've trained hard to get here.

I'm happier when I'm moving. Pure and simple.

Day 295: Doubt

Swimming this morning was tough. I had an inkling it might be. I hadn't been the pool for a week, having missed Monday's swim; and my experience in the lake with the wetsuit really sapped some of my confidence. I kid you not that I've been thinking, in all seriousness: do I really know how to swim, or have I been fooling myself all this time?

I had another "goggle" morning. Endless water in the goggles (side note: should I invest in different goggles? do other swimmers have impenetrable goggles? because mine seem to leak a lot). I actually forced myself to swim 200m without touching my goggles, even though they were so full of water that I could hardly stand to open my eyes. But I had to do it, because otherwise I would have been stopping and stopping and stopping to empty them out. I had really red eyes afterward. I tried to use it as a learning occasion: ie. learning how not to panic but keep swimming without being able to see very well.

It occurred to me that the learning in the pool, at this point in my training, has largely to do with learning how to cope with panic and anxiety in the water. Doubt. Fear. These are my biggest opponents. Negative thinking too. How much easier it is to do something when I believe that I can do it. How much harder when I have to fight my own dark thoughts.

After forcing myself to swim that 200m with soggy goggles, I readjusted them and they seemed to work better for the rest of the swim. I continued to count lengths, as a tactic against keeping my mind from slipping into negative territory, and managed to swim 1000m in the final twenty minutes of my swim (it took a strong push at the end to get me there). I did feel stronger as the swim went on. One thing I might do, in the week(s) leading up to the triathlon, is to swim more frequently. Maybe as much as once a day for the preceding week. The more time I spend in the water, the greater my comfort level.

:::

On another note, I still need to get my laces into my shoes, load up my bike, and figure out what I'm going to eat and drink during the duathlon on Monday. I will be relieved with it's over. Another step along the way.

I've been feeling sluggish and drained all week. I hope to get some rest this weekend and feel ready to go on Monday. Hope, hope, hope.

Day 293: Cold and Wet

That's the weather: cold and wet. It seems to continue on, day after day, throughout our spring. I'm wishing I'd gotten myself some long bike tights, because biking in the early morning with bare legs is not ideal. Even the long woollen socks aren't enough to prevent chill from seeping into my bones (and my toes; not that pants would help with that).

Yesterday's bike ride was the longest yet, as we attempted to bike the race course. We decided (wisely, I think) not to attempt the last stretch, an out-and-back of about 10km (I'm estimating). It would have added to the going-home agony of biking directly into a stiff and chilly wind. The last part of the ride almost had the urgency of "let's survive this." My toes were completely gone, and I felt tired. The ride completely drained me. The last thing I would have felt like doing was throwing on a pair of running shoes and staggering 4km. Well, I'll leave that bit of joy for Monday.

I'm trying to change my attitude about this Monday's race, and to think of it as a a new experience, and a learning experience, rather than a challenge to myself to push to the limits of my endurance (yeah, that tends to be the direction I take these things). I will try to approach it more like the half-marathon than the 10km race, starting slowly and pushing harder toward the end, rather than pushing hard the whole way through and wringing out every last ounce of energy in my body. At least I have no expectations about time. The whole thing is a mystery to me.

I was just thinking how weird it's going to be to compete in a bike race!!! I've never been in a bike race before. I've only ever seen them on tv. Whereas with the running, I'd been in races before in my lifetime.

There are some mighty steep hills on our race course. It's going to be hard work. I'm thankful for the layers of endurance that I feel access to after all this training. It doesn't actually seem to get easier, probably because the more fit I get, the harder and faster I go, but the biggest difference is having confidence in my ability to find more, time and time again: another burst of energy, another layer waiting under the last, even when I feel briefly spent at the top of a particularly long hill.

I went to a 90-minute hot yoga class last night and totally appreciated the stretching. My lower back got progressively stiffer during the bike ride. I needed some backward bends to stretch it out.

I ran this morning with a friend, and didn't feel awesomely awesome, but improved as the run went on. My breathing seems to smooth out the longer I go (assuming we're sticking to a reasonable pace), and my muscles definitely loosen up.

Now to get writing for next week's posts on chatelaine.com. Any topics you're particularly interested in me covering?

Day 291: Tight Squeeze

So, how did the lake swim go?

Well, Lake Huron was 3 degrees. I took the dive early, figuring if I didn't do it right away, as the weekend went on (with the cheese and drink consumption ever-rising), I would wimp out and blow it off. As it was, squeezing into the wetsuit and heading into near-freezing water was approximately the last thing I felt like doing. My friends did have to help a bit, but I like to think I was looking pretty space-age and impressive when the suit was on. It felt very restrictive at the throat. Turned out it wasn't that tight--as cold water poured down my back as soon as I attempted the crawl. I couldn't do it. Every time my face went into the water, I would gasp reflexively from the cold. My arm motions were more restricted, too. And because my feet were bare, they were also instantly numb and in pain.

I almost gave up after attempt one: gasping, icy water down back, etc. But my friend who is a strong swimmer suggested (from the beach where she was watching) that I keep at it and attempt a stroke that would keep my head out of the water, like the crawl that lifeguarders do. Dutifully I waded deeper and made a second attempt to swim. It felt painfully slow, like the water was hugely more powerful than me. I wasn't quite panicking, but nearly, especially as waves kicked up water into my mouth. I stayed shallow enough to be always able to touch, but I think I would have panicked utterly had it been over my head. The wetsuit did keep me slightly more buoyant, but it also restricted my movement and pulled at my throat.

I did not exit the water feeling more confident, but less. I walked out (on numb feet) thinking: Do I really know how to swim? Or have I been fooling myself in the pool all these months?

I may end up swimming the race without the wetsuit. The lake I'll be swimming in is nothing like a Great Lake, and it will have had an additional month to warm up. But if I'm going to stick with the wetsuit plan, I will need to swim lengths at the pool in it. I'm still not too keen to do that. It's damn hard to get into, too. How can I become one with the wetsuit? Do I need to? I'm going to ask my triathlon lane friend whether she wears a wetsuit and if so where she practices in it.

Probably what I need most of all is positive visualization and a self-calming technique to prevent panic in the water.

The rest of the weekend was mostly sloth and debauchery, but I did get a wonderful massage on my neck later that afternoon, and I did some amazing-feeling yoga stretches yesterday morning, and then went for a quick run after lunch. I over-dressed for the weather, and felt generally sluggish (I was attempting a 5-minute/km pace, over approximately 6km). Why am I so sluggish? I kept wondering, thinking: I haven't exactly been exerting myself this weekend. Suddenly it occurred to me: I don't usually go for a run after an enormous meal of smoked salmon chased down with a Caesar. Aha! But I forced myself to keep pace, and to speed up at the end. It's good for the soul to endure a little physical discomfort. And then I went and soaked my sweaty self in the hot tub (sorry, friends-in-tub).

This morning, home again, I did not get up to swim. I wasn't in bed last night till after midnight, with all the catching up that needed doing; the early rising to swim and run just wasn't going to happen.

So here's last week, to sum up: four runs (no long runs), two (and a half?) swims, one bike ride, and one yoga class, plus a little extra yoga on the side. Well, that's not bad. I only wish the half swim had been longer and more encouraging.

This week will be light, due to crazy soccer schedules and a birthday party, too; plus I like to take it easy for a day or two before a race, and the duathlon is this coming Monday. So here's the plan: one bike ride, two runs, one swim, two yoga classes. Oo. That's really light. I hope it's not too light. But I'm going to try not to stress about it, and just accept that life is happening, and I'll do the race with whatever's in the tank.

I got the bike tuned up today, and got some instructions on caring for it (especially after a rainy ride, which it looks like tomorrow's will be). I've also watched a video on how to change a tire, and a friend is going to give me a hands-on tutorial on Thursday, too.

Day 288: "Don't Get Lost!"

This morning in the pool, I was not exactly lively. I would have enjoyed chatting more with my swim-lane partner, but she was motoring. (Though I did find out that she's training for an Ironman--her second; I asked after she told me that she swims three times a week, and is bumping it up to four times starting this week; aha! That's an awful lot of training for a shorter triathlon).

It was a "goggle" morning, and I spent the first fifteen minutes fighting with my goggles. I don't know what I'll do in the middle of a lake if my goggles suddenly fill with water. It totally throws me off, and changes my breathing. The breathing is such a big part of the swimming: when it works, it's extremely rhythmic and soothing. I tried to keep my arms strong the whole time; they tend not to power through the water in quite the same way by the end. But I was so worn out near the end that I decided to count laps just to distract my mind: I went 500m in 12 minutes. Slow! But I'd like to think I'm faster at the beginning. I was really feeling slow today, and reminded myself that this swim could be like my long slow runs, the main purpose being to build endurance. I swam for an hour, so at that pace, I did 2.5km. Not bad. And who knows, maybe it was actually just a little bit further.

I biked to the pool--at last! (Not on my road bike; on a mountain bike). I also biked yesterday to run errands, pulling the kids in the stroller, and pulled them in the stroller again this morning to nursery school. Every little bit counts. Plus, for short distances, it hardly takes more time than driving. I don't like when they ask me questions, however; I'm puffing too hard to answer and have to keep reminding them that mommy's the engine powering their ride.

I also fit in an extra run yesterday evening (no yoga, due to soccer schedule). My eldest daughter had to be at her soccer game 40 minutes early, and because it was in a different city, I left extra-early, and we got there with nearly an hour to spare. Luckily, I'd brought my running shoes. While the girls practiced, I went for a run on unfamiliar trails. "Don't get lost!" my daughter told me, and her words were ringing in my ears as I tried to keep track of which side trails I was turning onto. It was a little bit creepy because the trail felt isolated and there was no one on it. I'd left my phone behind too, thinking it would be a short, quick run. I never really got lost, but it did give me something to think about: next time, I would definitely carry water, and possibly my phone, just in case. Part of the trail led through this quite thick woods, and all I could think of was being mauled by a rogue cougar (probably impossible, but hey, we're encroaching on wilderness, so why wouldn't wildlife encroach right back on us?). So I picked up a stick and ran with it the rest of the way. Why did that make me feel safer? But it did. I also felt slightly ridiculous when I did eventually pass some people walking their dogs. Hi, just me and my stick, yup, special arm-strengthening program, running with sticks.

I got back to the field in time to see almost the whole game, and my daughter's team won. She didn't let any goals in, and when she played out, she set up an awesome goal with great footwork and passing. I had this strange sensation watching her (she's eight). She just looked so tall. So separate from me. So big and so herself. I was bursting with pride and also with a kind of awe--at being a mother, I think. That this running girl on the field was mine. I remember her as an infant, clear as day. And there she is: becoming and being herself.

Which is totally off topic. I couldn't sit down or relax the whole game, so I did some stretches by the sidelines. Again, feeling like a bit of a fool, but my body needed to stretch. And it's hard to watch my kid play goal.

Anyway, that's it for my week, because I'm off to spend two days with friends at a cottage. There will be cheese! But I'm not planning on complete sloth and debauchery: I'm bringing the wetsuit to try it out in the lake. Wish me well. I can't even tell if the darn thing is inside-out on the hanger right now. Maybe my friends will help squeeze me into it ...

Day 286: Low

Low or slow, not sure which would more accurately describe my self this morning. I am tired, that's true. And I am hitting a wall of anxiety over the duathlon. I find myself getting anxious about the details, like, for example, the super-fast instant-tie shoelaces which I've yet to install on my shoes. I'm worried about feeding myself on the bicycle. What if I crash while reaching for a gummie or a gel pack? (Gummies and gel packs also seem so totally against my principles. Shouldn't I be making my own homemade versions, or eating real food instead?). Anyway, fairly ridiculous worries, and I can tell that it's just a negative headspace echoing negativity back at me, but so far this morning there's no pulling me out.

I loved the bike ride yesterday. I am still nervous going fast, fast, faster down hills, but that sensation of being sling-shot up the hill after a big downhill -- wow, that is so fun. I think it would be fun to bike for a really long time, though not in a race situation. It's the race part that is scaring me right now.

I do have other concerns related to this project itself. It seems to be consuming a good deal of my time and my life right now, and while I love seeing my body get stronger and gain endurance, I wonder what is being sacrificed? When this is over, and the triathlon is completed, should I be turning my energies to something else? And if so, what is it?? I've appreciated having this project to pour myself into. I spend a lot of my life wondering whether I'm doing the right things, whether I'm pointing myself in the right direction, whether I'll find an occupation that fits perfectly. I feel like shaking myself and saying: Pick Something! Focus! Or maybe I should be shaking myself and saying: Enjoy what you've chosen to focus on for now! Be glad that you can do it! Even if it's not forever!

I'm thankful for my writing. That seems to be the one through-vein, the one thread that sews through the rest of my somewhat scattered interests. I can't say it sews my interests together, because there's no sewing triathlons together with doula'ing, for example. But writing is always there, always with me, no matter where my mind is aimed.

I think part of me longs for a coherent life. But maybe I'd be just as content with an interesting one instead.

Day 284: Skipped

I skipped one planned outing today: I swam like usual, and ran afterward like usual, even sticking to the 5-min/km pace, though my legs were tired and my stomach was growling. But I did not race out the door to yoga as soon as my husband got home, which had been my plan. Instead, I looked at the delicious food I'd worked hard to prepare and was setting on the table, and thought about all of us gathering together to eat it, and I was hungry and I wanted to hang out with my family and not be doing something by myself.

So I stayed. We ate, we talked, and after supper, the kids and I relaxed and watched The Amazing Race. It wasn't a day off, exactly, but it felt good.

And, now, to bed, to sleep, because the alarm will ring early and I'll be off on my bicycle to meet friends for a ride. I still need to learn how to change a tire, but I'm hoping to learn it the easy way and not the hard way, ie. in my driveway and only for practice purposes, and not out of necessity on the road or, perish the thought, during a race.

Day 283: Mother's Day Bliss

I seem to have lost the concept of a rest day. I had no rest days last week, since I decided to bike on Saturday (which was meant to be my off day). And this week, my rest day was Thursday, when I went to a pretty intense vinyasa yoga class. I thought maybe today would be an off day, after my usual swim on Friday, and a 20km bike ride yesterday, followed by a 3km run (with my friend T, as we're both training for the duathlon in two weeks). (Side note: I sense that's going to be mildly torturous, and will push me to my limits once again).

Today I got to sleep in. The best gift for this mother. When I got up, way later than usual and feeling completely rested and ready to get up, my eldest daughter (age 8) made me an egg to order: sunny-side-up was what I chose. Then I opened Mother's Day gifts, and my husband took the kids grocery shopping while I read the newspaper and played piano. By the time they'd returned I was feeling pretty restless. Too much leisure! Too much ease! So I offered to take my eldest daughter to her soccer practice, and try out going for a run at the same time. It turned out to be perfect. The soccer fields are surrounded by beautiful trails, and I ran for an hour and twenty minutes, not fast, just steady and happy, and kind of overjoyed to be able to run and run and run without feeling anything but happy. It made me feel like this is what my body is meant for, and just a great overwhelming gratitude to be able to use it and live in it in this way. I ended with some sprints followed by a short recovery, just to test it out. I felt a little silly sprinting, but hey, it's a sports field and most are there to exert themselves. It's just that most of the people running around are kids, not parents.

So that's my week, and it's been great. I checked my distance when I got home, and it was about 13km. Not that far, really, but far enough.

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Here's my week: four runs, two bike rides, two swims, and two yoga classes. (total km running: 28.5km; total km cycling: 40km).

Next week's plan: three runs, one/two bike rides, three swims, and two yoga classes.

Day 279: Tired/Tired

Tired. All I can say. Life, outside of training, has been extremely busy this week, and my fast 10k feels like it's chased me around the block and caught up. I got up early yesterday for a 20km bike ride (my extremities were the only part of me that did not enjoy it; so cold!), and I got up early today for a run. Both with friends. If the friends hadn't been meeting me, I wouldn't have made it out of bed.

This project wouldn't survive without my friends! Thank you all!

Hoping to get to a yoga class this afternoon. Tomorrow is a mostly-off day, with just another yoga class planned. I would like some good sleep to catch me up to normal again.

Day 277: Wired/Tired

I can't seem to get focused today. I feel both wired and tired. I could not nap after yesterday's run. And I had a hard time falling asleep too, but found it relatively easy to hop out of bed this morning. My nap this morning was short, too. But it's wired energy, not useful energy.

I'm anxiously awaiting election results here in Canada.

So ... this morning, I got up just like usual, and swam for 50 minutes, then ran for 5k on the track. I swam in the medium lane (a step up!) with the woman who often swims with me. I still don't know her name (I should really ask). She does triathlons, and she had just run her first half-marathon (outside of a triathlon, she said) yesterday, but she was hesitant to take the medium lane though our usual slow lane was already in use. It was funny to be the one telling her she's fast enough for the medium lane! I mean, she swims faster than me, and she swims without stopping, and trains using a watch, timing her splits. She's faster than a lot of people I've seen in the medium lane, including me (I used a medium lane myself on Friday). She asked if I would split a medium lane with her. I liked that. Like splitting an order of fries. Since we were both tired from our race days, it was a pleasant pace in the water. Time rolled by today, not sure why.

The last thing I felt like doing was running, but the 10k didn't wear me out as much as the half. It was a harder race to run mentally, but I didn't feel it took as much out of me physically. So up I went to the track. I started slow and sped up incrementally until I'd completed 3km, then slowed down for the first lap of the fourth km and sped up as I went, so that I was running the fourth lap even faster than my usual pace. I did this on kilometre five, too, slow lap to start and recover and trying to sprint that last lap. But I was admittedly tired. I tried to imagine someone urging me on, like in spin class. I'm going to miss spin class for that. The voice in my head is never quite as motivating.

I had the absolutely crazy (though no doubt true) thought that if I could run 10km every day like I ran on Sunday, I'd get a whole lot faster. But there's no way I have the mental fortitude for that, even if it were physically possible. Still, I suspect that's how people get faster. They push crazy hard during training.

I keep running across articles on the Kenyan marathoners. Apparently, you can pay to go and train like a Kenyan -- and with Kenyan runners -- and many do. They run three times a day, starting with a wake-up joyful run of about 8-10km, a mid-afternoon run that includes many sprints and long distances, and an evening run, also long, to shake out the lactic-acid build-up of the sprints from earlier. They eat food. No bars, no supplements, mostly carbs. They run on dirt or grass. They always run in groups, sharing energy, pushing each other along. No wonder they're fast. Oh, and it's high altitude, too.

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On another note, my Chatelaine.com post is up: a look at my first time trying to learn how to swim, age 35. I still can't quite believe I got into the pool that morning.

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Last week: four runs, one spin, one bike ride, two swims, two yoga classes. Not bad!

This week: three runs, two bike rides, two swims, three yoga classes. Not sure whether I can fit in a long run since I'll be doing a bike ride on Saturday instead. We're planning to do a short run after just to get our legs used to the transition in preparation for the duathlon in a few weeks (yikes!).

Day 276: Another Race

I'm beginning to wonder whether I'll become someone who enters races and obsessively tries to beat my last best time. My personality-type just does not allow me to relax and finish at a comfortable pace. Instead, I try to run to my limits, calibrating throughout the race how much harder I can push myself. The physical part of the race almost seems insignificant. It's the mental part that takes all the work and the toughness and the guts. I'm not sure I could have gone quite so fast in today's 10km run had my friend T not been behind me pushing me all the way along. I knew she was tough -- she's done Ironman, and she was running today on an injured foot and therefore much less running training than me, but there she was pushing me on. Somehow knowing and trusting her mental toughness made me push even harder to find my own. Thank you, T!!!!! You're an amazing competitor!

The first half of the race I ran a bit faster than originally planned and I felt a slightly more fatigued than I would have liked. But once half the race was done, I believed it was possible to keep pushing at least that hard for another 5km. Since it was a loop, I knew exactly what to expect. I took advantage of every downhill to pick up the pace, though I did use one downhill, at about 7.5km, to rest just slightly and try to restore my breathing (it didn't help much). I was disconcerted by my breath -- I sounded like a freight train coming through, and I'd hoped to sound much more relaxed. It really felt like a mental game that I was playing with myself. I would feel a flash of doubt -- can I keep this pace going, or am I going to slam into a wall? And then I would find a reason to keep the pace going. I pictured a friend's daughter, who is an amazing runner, and I thought, she wouldn't slow the pace. That's not how she wins races.

Not that I was going to win this race, you understand. It was a race against myself, essentially. I did have those times in my mind: 55 minutes was what I believed was within my means, and I wanted to do it in 50, at 5 minutes a km, which is fast for me. Honestly, I'm not sure how I made it that last kilometre. I couldn't look directly ahead, oddly, but it seemed easier when I looked to the side, almost as if seeing the finish line wasn't going to help me. I was in the zone. The zoned-out zone. I couldn't even wave or smile at friends. Yet I found it within myself to sprint to the finish, a longer sprint than my body wanted to do, but why stop now?

The time on the clock was so exciting that I threw my hands into the air. Under fifty minutes. And my official chiptime clocked me in at 47:54. THRILLING. Honestly, I could not have run that race any faster. I threw everything into it. I finished 6th in my age class, and 16th among the women overall (there were 113 women who finished the race). That's insanely better than I ever did in high school. I wish I'd recognized my own potential back then, and trained properly. But you know, even with all the training in the world, I'm not sure that back in high school I would have had the mental courage to run the way I ran today.

That's what makes running so hard, I'm beginning to see. The training is important, of course, but to go fast, you have to be willing experience deep mental (and physical) discomfort. I'm pretty sure the runners who break records are willing to run to the very edges of their physical limits, and that's simply not easy. I did my best today, but I'd have to train even harder to push the edge of my physical limit. Man. Part of me wants to do exactly that. But during the race, the thought I kept shoving back down was -- this is WAY TOO HARD and you are NEVER GOING TO DO THIS TO YOURSELF AGAIN!

Sorry, self. I think I just might. The high of crossing the finish line, the high was knowing I pushed as hard as I could -- well, it's a bit like childbirth, really, though on a slightly reduced scale of pain and ecstasy. It's not fun 'til it's over, and then it's right up there with the most amazing feeling you'll ever have the privilege of experiencing.