And it's here. Even though I haven't been posting about it aside from random facebook updates, the last 7....12...months of my life pretty much play out in the span of 13-17 hours tomorrow. Ironman Lake Placid. Holy cow. Roughly 51 weeks ago, when I saw this race was on Greg's 40th birthday, I had the brilliant thought that it would be a great, crazy thing to do. In most of these crazy incidences, my somewhat saner husband talks me off the ledge, but he didn't do it this time. When I said "Hey, let's do this!" He said, "Sure, why not?" And a journey began.
It's been 7 years and two kids since I toed the line at 140.6. It's been a journey that can only be described with one word...adaptation. Adapt to training, adapt to life, adapt to expectations. There are only so many hours in the day, days in the week, and weeks in the year to fit in family, friends, self care, work, every day life, and training.
Gone were the days when we could roll out of bed at 9 and do a 6 hour ride, put our feet up, and order take out while watching netflix. Gone were the days when I could shift a run because I felt like crap. Not only were we both training for an Ironman (which we had never done before), but we were doing it with a new business to run (Greg quit his job and started doing real estate photography in March), a promotion for me in work (Which meant more travel), and a two and four year old. Holy what.
And, in less than 36 hours, the hard work, persistence, and adaptation will hopefully culminate in something really awesome.
Looking back, it's been tough. And humbling. And more than a little crazy. We rode at 3am. We did long runs at 8pm. We pared down a training plan that included key workouts and no fluff. We did 20 milers on the treadmill while watching "The Emoji movie". More than once. (Jailbreak, anyone?). We did trainer rides while tandem playing Forza with a 4 year old, or where we hopped off the bike 6 times to settle disputes over pop tarts. We held virtual staff meetings on mile 85 of a long ride (Oh yes I did). We just did it.
And it's funny. Back in 2010 and 2011 when I did Ironman, it consumed my life. Everything was carefully planned around that 100 miler (god forbid I exert myself the day before or day after). For race prep races, nutrition had to be perfect and recover essential (what, not everyone does brunch for 18 the day after running a double marathon? Amateurs.). This time, training fit around life. Around the kids. Around us. Around work. Sometimes, I would really shake my head and wonder if this was even right because ZOMG Ironman wasn't the FIRST AND FOREMOST in my mind.
Then I would have doubt. We had a sucky training weekend in LP where every bike thing that could go wrong, did. We would go 3 days without doing anything but verbal volleyball and kid hand offs, and I would miss my husband. I would lace up my running shoes at 6am and my two year old would cry, "Mommy, don't run!" and I would question every decision I made.
Then it was Wednesday. Time to pack. As I worked through my bag checklist and did my last shakeout ride, I felt them. The butterflies. They were there. I danced around to Skillet's "Invincible" and literally jumped up and down as I packed. I sat down on Thursday to hug my kiddos and Rob said "Mommy, you're an Ironman. I want to DO Ironman!". And that feeling came back.
When we arrived in Lake Placid, the air felt abuzz with the promise of something amazing. 3000 triathletes in town with the expectation of nirvana. Again, I bounced around like a kid in a candy store, taking pictures, running around mirror lake, swimming the line, and riding by whiteface. And smiling the whole damn time. All my crazy friends are here - there are about 40 of us from Rochester - and it feels like one big happy reunion. Sunday will be a party - which is fitting, since we are here because of Greg's 40th birthday!
Am I nervous? Oh hell yes. You don't do 140.6 with the expectation that the day will go perfectly. Something will go wrong. It's a given. But how you deal with it will define your day. And I have that in spades. ADAPTATION. I may not be as "physically" trained as when I toed the line in 2010, but my headspace is totally ready for this. I expect to shake out anywhere between 13 and 14 hours, but if I cross the line in 16:59, it's perfectly fine with me.
It's IRONMAN, baby! Let's do this!!
It's been 7 years and two kids since I toed the line at 140.6. It's been a journey that can only be described with one word...adaptation. Adapt to training, adapt to life, adapt to expectations. There are only so many hours in the day, days in the week, and weeks in the year to fit in family, friends, self care, work, every day life, and training.
Gone were the days when we could roll out of bed at 9 and do a 6 hour ride, put our feet up, and order take out while watching netflix. Gone were the days when I could shift a run because I felt like crap. Not only were we both training for an Ironman (which we had never done before), but we were doing it with a new business to run (Greg quit his job and started doing real estate photography in March), a promotion for me in work (Which meant more travel), and a two and four year old. Holy what.And, in less than 36 hours, the hard work, persistence, and adaptation will hopefully culminate in something really awesome.
Looking back, it's been tough. And humbling. And more than a little crazy. We rode at 3am. We did long runs at 8pm. We pared down a training plan that included key workouts and no fluff. We did 20 milers on the treadmill while watching "The Emoji movie". More than once. (Jailbreak, anyone?). We did trainer rides while tandem playing Forza with a 4 year old, or where we hopped off the bike 6 times to settle disputes over pop tarts. We held virtual staff meetings on mile 85 of a long ride (Oh yes I did). We just did it.
Then I would have doubt. We had a sucky training weekend in LP where every bike thing that could go wrong, did. We would go 3 days without doing anything but verbal volleyball and kid hand offs, and I would miss my husband. I would lace up my running shoes at 6am and my two year old would cry, "Mommy, don't run!" and I would question every decision I made.
Then it was Wednesday. Time to pack. As I worked through my bag checklist and did my last shakeout ride, I felt them. The butterflies. They were there. I danced around to Skillet's "Invincible" and literally jumped up and down as I packed. I sat down on Thursday to hug my kiddos and Rob said "Mommy, you're an Ironman. I want to DO Ironman!". And that feeling came back.
Am I nervous? Oh hell yes. You don't do 140.6 with the expectation that the day will go perfectly. Something will go wrong. It's a given. But how you deal with it will define your day. And I have that in spades. ADAPTATION. I may not be as "physically" trained as when I toed the line in 2010, but my headspace is totally ready for this. I expect to shake out anywhere between 13 and 14 hours, but if I cross the line in 16:59, it's perfectly fine with me.
It's IRONMAN, baby! Let's do this!!
Best of luck to both of you I can’t wait to read the race report.
ReplyDeleteSo happy to see you both finished, awesome! Can't wait to read about your race.
ReplyDeleteThank you both! I missed the comments - writing this ridiculously long report now :)
ReplyDeleteThis was lovely, thanks for writing this
ReplyDelete