Virtual Insanity

Well then.  Clearly I needed a little bit of cheese with the wine in that last post, am I right?  Thankfully, it's been two weeks, about a million perspective shifts, a lot of deep breaths, and a ton of patience later.  And here we are.

I took some time to feel sad about the lack of racing in 2020.  I'm fully aware it's a first world problem, but I'm also aware that during this whole unprecedented time, no one wrote a book at how to get through it.  We all have bad times, good times, moments of sadness, moments of insanity, moments of not giving a $hit, and moments of pure, simple, joy in ways we never expected.

Sometimes all in one day.

Over the past few weeks, I've taken a step back and learned to have some patience.  Acceptance for not being in control of what lies ahead.  Open minded thinking for people that might be viewing this a different way.  Stepping back from people that judge the way I am handling my life choices.  Understanding for those willing to have a conversation with me about where our viewpoints differ, usually ending where both of us come out better for it.  And absolute empathy for myself.  This might shock you, but I tend to be a pretty goal oriented person.  I don't take any shit.  I don't make excuses.  And I go for what I want.

But I also get tired.  I run out of bandwidth.  And now seems as good a time as any to take those deep breaths and say, much like I would to anyone else that's struggling to keep it together, "It's ok.  Whatever you are feeling now, it's ok".

It's funny, isn't it, how we have the least amount of patience with ourselves??

I took a little bit of time to just be sad about the whole state of the world.  Then, over the past week or so, I have started to pick up the pieces and to reframe my state of mind.  There might not be races in 2020.  There might not be school until the fall.  There might not be big get togethers.  But there are certain things we really can have - positives to focus on.  The ability to actually spend time with my kids - and to watch them play together and use their imaginations (they are actually getting along.  Amazing what a lack of options does!).  The ability to connect meaningfully with friends 1:1 in a non "in person" manner.  And the ability to set some new goals for 2020 that don't hinge on legit finish lines.

Since it seems my whole "traditional" race season has shifted from 2020 to 2021, it allows me the time to actually do a few things I wouldn't have otherwise.  To work on my bike limiters without working on speed at the same time.  To be flexible with my training schedule and allow it to serve as a stress relief and not as a hard core goal to "do everything fast".  And to "race" in a totally different way.

I've decided to do a few things I've always wanted to do.  First of all, run the year.  That equals 2020 miles, twelve easy installments of 168.33333333 miles, or for those who like to measure the minutiae (guilty), 38.84615384615385 miles per week.  Every year, I've wanted to do this and got sidelined by that whole biking and swimming thing that seems to get in the way of running if I want to actually be a triathlete.  I know.  WTF?

I've signed up for a few virtual races.  I've never done these, but there have been a few lately that I've done or signed up for that have been pretty awesome.

I took part in a 24 hour relay for Rochester Running Company to help keep running going in Rochester.  The idea was that every half hour, there was a virtual baton passed on to keep sneakers on the ground at all times.  Because I am an idiot adventuresome, I signed up for 2am.  What a cool run  What a neat experience! Something I never would have done before.

I also signed up for the "Spring Clean" half marathon.  This was a great idea by one of our local running stores - they charged $20, which went to pay employees that cannot work on-site right now.  They "spring cleaned" their medal and tee shirt inventory and sent out a random medal/tee to every racer.  Then they ran the race over a weekend, you submitted your time, and got entered into the results.  Pretty cool!

My Swag!

While I didn't come close to breaking my PR of 1:40, this was a pretty great run with lack of "race energy" on tired legs and good enough to net an AG win and 5th overall female (whatever that even means when you can't see your "competition").  Even better, it helped keep our local running scene going!

Next up is a dual challenge - I signed up for a 1000k virtual run across Tennessee.  Years ago, while running Mind The Ducks, one of my ultra friends told me all about Vol State, a 500k ultra that 10 hours into a 12 hour race, seemed like a fabulous idea, and we made a pact to do it someday.  (Insert reminder here where I am incredibly influenced by terrible ideas.  I don't apologize for this for one second, as its enriched my life in more ways than one!)

Vol state is no longer, but the creator of the Barkely Marathons (AKA the best terrible idea ever that I WILL DO one day!), Gary Cantrell (aka "Laz")  created the Virtual Run Across Tennessee - you run 1000k in 4 months "across the state".  For this race, you get a shirt, medal, virtual tracker to see your little emoji guy run across the state, and the entry fee goes to "Feed Tennessee", a charity that Laz supports passionately.  All good stuff.  (There's also additional swag if you run back across Tennessee....2000k....but I'm not that crazy.  Maybe.  Um....well, we will see about that.)

Moving on.  The 1000k race runs May 1-August 31, so it seems appropriate to do another challenge starting May 1 - The Dave Goggins challenge.  This one is a great quarantine challenge and also works well to train one for an ultra.  The goal?  4x4x48, or, a 4 mile run every 4 hours for 48 hours.  It's a great test of endurance, f*ck it, and stupidity, all in one!  What more could you ask for??

Of course, that fits me to a tee.  Some of my buddies have done variations - a mini challenge of 5x6x30 or a 100k total for 5.25x4x48.  Whew.  I'm going to stick to the original.  Ideally, this begins Friday afternoon and I finish my last run Sunday.  I plan to document it and share the results early next week, so stay tuned!

Is this nuts?  Yep.  Virtual insanity?  Absolutely.  Jamiroquai always hit the nail on the head, and the concept of "Virtual Insanity" seems not only to apply to my "race goals" but to our current world right now...

And now that things are changing for the worse,
See, its a crazy world we're living in

Futures made of virtual insanity now
Always seem to, be governed by this love we have

Is it what I expected of the year?  Absolutely not.  But somewhere in this whole virtual insanity, I am working to find my grounding.  With the love that I have.  One step at a time. And as I always seem to do, it starts with one step into my running shoes.  Ready, set, GO!


(Note that these ideas are solely my own.  My coach thinks I'm absolutely bananas and I have taken this challenge on as my own.  He has much better, saner ideas as to what to do with my time, but as always, allows me the head space and freedom to go off in my own direction at my discretion.  He rocks).

Hey World (Don't Give Up)

Welcome to 2020.  Aside from all of my pithiness and whining about the year, it seems, in fact, that it’s not all about me (So glad I finally figured that out - took me long enough!)  Unless you live under a rock (hell, it's probably reached there as well) the little virus known as COVID-19 - or- the 'Rona, as it's called by the cool kids - has totally taken over life as we know it.  Forget the blizzard of '77. The Ice storm of '91. ‘Rona 2020 has completely eclipsed any stories of our parents walking 2 miles each way to school uphill, barefoot in the snow. Obliterated our stories about how we had a rotary phone without - gasp - texting ability- or even the internet (or as Rob would say, the "internots") and were off from school for 10 days during a "horrific" ice storm.

Running is not cancelled.  Neither is Dabbing, apparently. 

Nope - Gen Alpha has it, hands down.  Ten years from now they will be recalling the time that school shut down indefinitely.  The time that Mom and Dad (attempted very poorly) to be their teachers. The time where jammies ruled the day, and ice cream parties were dinner.  The time where we drew rainbows for the windows and wrote letters instead of visiting. The time where “I wouldn’t touch you with a 6 foot pole” became the rule, not a suggestion,  and none of their friends could come over to play. The time where they talked to Grandpa via Skype, even though he lived down the road. Whatever the age or their point of view....normal was no longer normal.

For the adults raising those kids,it became the time of the unknown.  Where life turned on a dime and what was normal yesterday was done with today (or even an hour ago).  Depending on the circumstance - a time of fear, of deep breaths, and of an intense digging deep to survive - on a physical, economical and emotional level.

I've been one of the lucky ones.  My job is essential (thank goodness someone recognizes this).  Our kids are young enough to know no more than some people aren’t feeling very well and that we are on an adventure which requires creativity and a different way of doing school, play and life in order to stay healthy and to keep others healthy.  There's lots of throwing any normalcy out the window, many melt downs ( yep, even with the 4 and 6 year old) and lots of hugs and snuggles to cope with the uncertainties.

Regardless of how you feel about the whole thing - in terms of how the state, country and world are handling it - it’s been a time to dig deep and stay positive...reaching within your reserves to keep some sense of normalcy - whether it be putting on pants every day (fail), not eating all your cookies in one sitting (double fail) or getting out and doing something to stay sane (is running 40 miles a week and biking nowhere 7 plus hours staying sane?  No? TRIPLE FAIL.)

Guys, I'm not gonna lie.  I've been struggling. I think it's partially because I like to believe I have some form of say over my life - whether it be making choices for my family, at work, my marriage, or my life goals - and I just....don't right now.  Not only is there a lack of knowing when and if life will ever return to "normal", it seems that everyone has some conjecture about how long this will last with little, if any, solid evidence to back it up. School won't be in session until September.  No races until 2021. We won't gather in groups for another 18 months. No more handshakes, ever.

It's really disheartening.  Even if you strip out the desire to have some solid answer (which won't happen), the concept of hope right now is downright dangerous and quite often, laughed at.  It doesn't matter who you are or what choices you are making, somehow, you are wrong for them. The judgement going on in the world right now makes me not only doubt myself as a reasonably intelligent human being, it makes me want to throw my phone out the window, light my computer on fire, and escape to a deserted island with my husband and kids.  

And my natural optimism is fading.  I remember on my first week of training post March 13 (basically known as "the day the world decided to stand still") and I struggled to figure out why I was doing what I was doing.  What was I training for? Why was I doing this?

I came up with the answer pretty quickly - it was life.  I love what I do so much that I knew hanging onto this small sense of sanity was necessary.  As the weeks have gone by, oddly enough, I find myself getting physically stronger and stronger, but my mind - the mental strength that I pride myself in - is fading.  

I remember my first Ironman.  My first ultra marathon. When the finish line seemed so far away and I had to put myself in my own "space" to section off the miles and get through them one at a time to make it to that end goal - the finish line! - in one spot.  The "hurt locker" that every athlete faces is real - and if you can't count on your mind to talk you into a reason to get to the finish, your body will come up with enough reasons to quit.

That was all well and good.  I learned, over the subsequent ultras, how to control my mind and to remember the end goal - the finish.  Then I got pregnant. I figured labor was much like an ultra - mental toughness and BAM! Goal reached.  

But they don't give you an estimated finish time with labor.  Doesn't matter how much you train, how fit you are, what kind of " race plan" you have going into it - you have no idea how long that ultra will last.  With kid #1 it was 33 hours. Kid #....about 5 (I have no favorite children. That's my official stance).  

Still, at the end, you have the most beautiful post race prize you could ever want - a perfect little human that you love more than life itself (now is not the time to talk about having two kids in quarantine.  Stop it).

This....has neither.  I'm constantly feeling like a fish out of water (which is pretty accurate, as we can't swim right now) - no clear direction, no ability to navigate life, and completely out of my element.  It sucks.

And the fishies in aero....what a little overacheiver!

I've been sitting with this feeling for awhile.  Trying to make sense of the world around me and the choices that are being made to battle this epidemic (it didn't work.  I'll leave it at that.) Trying to find some modicum of hope or a sense of "normal" via texting with friends, planning virtual races (which are a far cry from anything I love doing, but connecting virtually is the only way to do this), and joining online communities for running where we post funny pictures, motivational words, and silly dances. 

This afternoon, I had a 9 mile run on tap.  It's been a horrible week. Our funding at work has been cut in half, they are furloughing staff and implementing pay cuts (which hasn't happened to me yet, thank goodness, but my some of my co-workers are not so lucky), my poor kids are off the walls and can't understand why Easter won't be the same this year, and my husband and I stare at each other, helpless to come up with any concrete answers.  

I stepped outside into the dreary day - complete with heavy winds and gray skies -  to get my run done. Why? Who knows. I'm certainly not looking toward a finish line anytime soon.  Not looking for a PR. Not even able to meet up with my best buddy to log some miles and talk through any of this.  Why am I doing this?

For fun, I decided to run point to point along the lake- a place I have loved ever since I was a kid and now that I am lucky to live next to.  The husband planned a pick up spot 9 miles out, and I was off. It was windy - though a cross wind or tail wind, which was good. Taking it easy, my HR spiked.  F*ck it. I picked it up - and mile 2 was an 8:19 (about 40 seconds faster than my easy pace). F*ck it. As I logged the miles, the sun peaked in and out over the lake.  The angry waves became whitecaps. I smiled at the sun. Stared at the water. Had a good cry somewhere around mile 4. As I ventured out further to where I had only biked before, I took deep breaths and thought about my rides out here last year.  Where I started to learn to love the bike. Where I did the “big scary things” of 2019 that made it the best year ever. In the last two miles of the run, I hit the “hills of Ginna” - two beastly hills that suck on a bike - and powered up them with a force I didn’t know I had.   I was on a mission. I had no idea my pace. No idea of my HR. It honestly felt effortless. I hit mile 9 at the top of the hill and took my run the extra .18 cause who runs up a hill without running back down it.

The husband picked up a sweaty, happy runner, flushed with success of a great run, intent be damned.  

An hour later I found out that my A race - my Ironman in August - was almost certainly cancelled.  

I’m feeling a bit numb right now.  It’s not the race. There will be other Ironmans.  I’m quite certain at this point my whole 2020 race season will end up being one fantastic 2021 season.

But I don’t know.  And that’s the whole feeling of 2020.  Can we still live life to some semblance with everything being so unknown?

I had started the afternoon with a heavy heart that lifted during a run with no limits.  

And now I’m reminded that there are, in fact, limitors.  Lots of them. And that there are no answers.  

I’d like to say that I have some words of wisdom.  A nugget of optimism. But I don’t. Right now I’m grieving this.  And not the race. Honestly, I don’t give a shit if I race an Ironman this year.  But I’m sitting here, trying to find something. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it’s out there. 

Hey World, Don't Give Up. I know we an get through this. Somehow.