I withdrew from Ironman on Friday. As my last blog entry, this is far from what I envisioned I'd be writing. I can't see me healing this injury and training well and feeling good all at the same time. My long-term health and well-being trump all. Everything else has to give.
Even though Friday was my official withdrawal, I've been mourning the sudden loss of my goal over the past several weeks. So Friday itself brought more relief than I anticipated. I emailed Ironman first thing in the morning and within minutes, the very helpful staff had my partial refund in process. Everything I had to do was nice and tidy...cancel this and change that, white this out from my calendar and cross that off my list, email the house rental and call that hotel. And just as quickly as I became an Ironman-in-Training last June, I became an Injured-Triathlete-in-Recovery at 8:45 Friday morning.
The logistics were surprisingly easy. Ironman is accustomed to people withdrawing--they expect it. The owner of the house I rented has seen cancelations, I'm sure. This stuff happens all the time.
But not to me.
So in the meantime, my heart breaks and my spirit is crushed, only partly because I won't get to do the race. I can let go of Ironman for 2011. If I so decide, there will be another chance. And certainly there are many more seasons ahead of me of whichever races I choose. As my very wise friend Heather says, "one neck, many races."
No, this goes deeper than one missed race. Because I haven't been training the past couple of weeks, I have had lots of time for soul-searching. This is now about setting myself up for a lifetime of activity, triathlon and otherwise. This is about achieving true balance in my life--personal, professional, and athletic--so that no one thing dominates and controls the others. This is about me getting ridiculously clear on my priorities and on why I train and race in the first place. And so much more.
As I close this journal, I send my deepest gratitude to all of you who have been there for this journey. It has a very different ending than I wanted, but the ending isn't any less significant. Nor has this been a failure. I have achieved many goals along the way. And it's time to set new goals for the duration.
I am blessed to be surrounded by an incredible support network that is helping me heal my neck, my heart, and my spirit. You all are part of this network and I will carry you with me long after this blog is forgotten.
And if I ever decide to train for Ironman again? You will be among the first to know.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
T minus one week
No, that's not a typo. And no, they didn't move the race up to next weekend. Even though the race isn't until June 26, next weekend is decision time for me. With six weeks yet to go, I'm still healing my neck injury. As this has become my focus, I have cycled through every imaginable high and low. Actually, "high" doesn't quite capture it--it's more like "feeling simply good enough to function." And the lows are some of the lowest I've ever experienced.
Let me fill in what I've learned since I last wrote. Xrays and other tests have shown nothing indicating bulging or herniated discs. So it's not disc-related, just extremely locked up and spasmodic neck muscles. Phew. Yes, this is easier to treat, but it doesn't make it any less serious. And even though the severe symptoms appeared just weeks ago, I'm really dealing with a chronic issue I can trace back to 2004, perhaps even earlier. I think my body finally gave up trying to heal on its own. It now has my undivided attention.
So even though I can feel the pain subsiding and the muscles easing their unforgiving grip on my nerves, my heart suffers. I am now fearful of the things I love to do. Cycling and running, in particular, are uncomfortable at best and very painful at worst. The bike that brings a huge smile to my face now sits idly by as a reminder of what I've been ordered to not do.
My work now is being patient and living life moment by moment, neither of which I'm great at. I live in the world of closure, of things decided, of permanent ink. I purposefully structure my world so as to have as few surprises as possible. Ha. That world has been thrown into a blender on high. I'm not sure what will come out.
Regardless of what does come out, of what I decide next weekend, I'm steadfastly certain about one thing: There's a higher purpose here. I've yet to discover what that is, but it's out there. So, in addition to healing my neck, my work is also allowing that purpose to present itself to me.
Stay tuned.
Let me fill in what I've learned since I last wrote. Xrays and other tests have shown nothing indicating bulging or herniated discs. So it's not disc-related, just extremely locked up and spasmodic neck muscles. Phew. Yes, this is easier to treat, but it doesn't make it any less serious. And even though the severe symptoms appeared just weeks ago, I'm really dealing with a chronic issue I can trace back to 2004, perhaps even earlier. I think my body finally gave up trying to heal on its own. It now has my undivided attention.
So even though I can feel the pain subsiding and the muscles easing their unforgiving grip on my nerves, my heart suffers. I am now fearful of the things I love to do. Cycling and running, in particular, are uncomfortable at best and very painful at worst. The bike that brings a huge smile to my face now sits idly by as a reminder of what I've been ordered to not do.
My work now is being patient and living life moment by moment, neither of which I'm great at. I live in the world of closure, of things decided, of permanent ink. I purposefully structure my world so as to have as few surprises as possible. Ha. That world has been thrown into a blender on high. I'm not sure what will come out.
Regardless of what does come out, of what I decide next weekend, I'm steadfastly certain about one thing: There's a higher purpose here. I've yet to discover what that is, but it's out there. So, in addition to healing my neck, my work is also allowing that purpose to present itself to me.
Stay tuned.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Happy Mother's Day
For the second Sunday in a row, I don't feel much like writing. It's a long story, continuing from last weekend's neck and arm pain and ending with me having a bulging disk in my neck. The punchline: I hit rock bottom this past weekend and almost quit. I'm slowly climbing my way back toward my dream...thanks in no small part to my mom helping put me back together when I completely fell apart on Saturday. And to Steve who sent trans-Atlantic love and support and re-declarations of his faith in me (he's in Denmark visiting his brother). And to my veteran Ironman friends who convince me that I've come far enough to finish and that a missed workout here and there is insignificant. And to the health care professionals who help me take care of my body who are insistent that I have plenty of time still to heal and peak and taper for the event. And to my loved ones and friends who listen and listen and listen and express their empathy and love and concern.
To all of you--I hope you know how much you mean to me. Right now, you have more faith in me than I have in myself. This will carry me through healing and into the remaining seven weeks. You give without being asked to and are partners in this with me in every sense.
On this Mother's Day, I am once again humbled by the unwavering love and nurturing of my own mom, and am inspired by the many incredible moms I am blessed to call friends.
To all of you--I hope you know how much you mean to me. Right now, you have more faith in me than I have in myself. This will carry me through healing and into the remaining seven weeks. You give without being asked to and are partners in this with me in every sense.
On this Mother's Day, I am once again humbled by the unwavering love and nurturing of my own mom, and am inspired by the many incredible moms I am blessed to call friends.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Find the Fun
That's what BJ told me in my SOS muscle activation appointment on Monday. Find the Fun. Before I go further, I'll admit that I failed to fill in details on why my Sunday bike ride was so awful...perhaps because I didn't want to admit it out loud and therefore make it all the more real? I'm quickly learning this is part of my problem: I sometimes don't give my most serious issues an outlet and they apparently will not be ignored. Thus, they stick around with nowhere to go but into my neck. Or my hips, or my knees... So here we go--let me give this most recent issue the recognition it deserves. Back to Finding Fun in a moment.
What I thought was a simple stiff-neck-upon-waking a few weeks ago erupted into nerve pain down my left arm thanks to some vertebrae that decided to see what it was like living a little-to-the-left-of-center. OUCH. My lop-sided swim stroke (I breathe on my right side only) has left me with tremendous strength on the left side of my body--that outstretched left side must stabilize me in the water as I rotate far enough to breathe. How strong is it? I thought you'd never ask. It's so strong that those left back, neck, and shoulder muscles are literally pulling my skeleton out of whack. So, yes, I fully GET how important it is to breathe on both sides. Anyway, what does this have to do with my bike ride? Every bump, crack, and hole in the bikepath I felt in my neck. And arm.
Okay, now that we have the details out of the way, let me share with you the really meaningful part of my appointment with BJ. Yes, the muscle activation has helped. Today the nerve was at worst a dull ache and at best nonexistent. And with my regular mindful exercises, my upper body will eventually go the way of my lower body in being more balanced and resilient. The muscle therapy was punctuated with questions of What are you doing to replenish your energy? and How do you rejuvenate? and What do you do to rest and recover? and How do you feed your soul? Deep stuff. I didn't have much of a response aside from I do the occasional yoga class and I take one day off training per week. My feeble attempts to prove (to whom? myself?) that I do in fact take care of myself convinced no one. Not even my cat.
And so after my appointment I sat and journaled for the first time in 5 weeks. In my entry, I renewed my vows. I reminded myself why I signed up for this in the first place and recommitted to my goal. Let this post be a public declaration of this recommitment. I'm tired of being scared and apprehensive and uncertain and all that. I entered this journey with immovable dedication and goshdarnit if I'm going to whimper away 8 weeks out.
To recommit, I return to my very first post where I asked Why Ironman? My answers have evolved but are fundamentally the same.
Onward I forge...
What I thought was a simple stiff-neck-upon-waking a few weeks ago erupted into nerve pain down my left arm thanks to some vertebrae that decided to see what it was like living a little-to-the-left-of-center. OUCH. My lop-sided swim stroke (I breathe on my right side only) has left me with tremendous strength on the left side of my body--that outstretched left side must stabilize me in the water as I rotate far enough to breathe. How strong is it? I thought you'd never ask. It's so strong that those left back, neck, and shoulder muscles are literally pulling my skeleton out of whack. So, yes, I fully GET how important it is to breathe on both sides. Anyway, what does this have to do with my bike ride? Every bump, crack, and hole in the bikepath I felt in my neck. And arm.
Okay, now that we have the details out of the way, let me share with you the really meaningful part of my appointment with BJ. Yes, the muscle activation has helped. Today the nerve was at worst a dull ache and at best nonexistent. And with my regular mindful exercises, my upper body will eventually go the way of my lower body in being more balanced and resilient. The muscle therapy was punctuated with questions of What are you doing to replenish your energy? and How do you rejuvenate? and What do you do to rest and recover? and How do you feed your soul? Deep stuff. I didn't have much of a response aside from I do the occasional yoga class and I take one day off training per week. My feeble attempts to prove (to whom? myself?) that I do in fact take care of myself convinced no one. Not even my cat.
And so after my appointment I sat and journaled for the first time in 5 weeks. In my entry, I renewed my vows. I reminded myself why I signed up for this in the first place and recommitted to my goal. Let this post be a public declaration of this recommitment. I'm tired of being scared and apprehensive and uncertain and all that. I entered this journey with immovable dedication and goshdarnit if I'm going to whimper away 8 weeks out.
To recommit, I return to my very first post where I asked Why Ironman? My answers have evolved but are fundamentally the same.
- because I love to move
- because I love to push my physical limits
- because I love the sport
- because the longer, the better
- because I want to experience something few others will know
- because I want to mark my 40th year with an incredible achievement
- because I can't think of another accomplishment that will require more physical, mental, psychological, and emotional commitment and discipline
Onward I forge...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
T minus 8 weeks
This is the hardest thing I've done.
Ever.
I've done hard things in the past. But nothing begins to come close to this endeavor. The intensity just doesn't stop. No, rather, it just gets even more demanding. Part of me reads that and says Duh, what else did I expect? Another part of me says Bring It On. And the other part of me simply wants to hibernate. Until June 27th.
Yes, I am fully on the rollercoaster. My stellar run yesterday gave way this morning to quite possibly the most awful bike ride I've ever done. This saddens me--I love my bike.
I can point to half a dozen things I could be doing better at this point in training. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say I am determined to not sabotage my dream.
I'm feeling rather demoralized right now--mentally, emotionally, psychologically. Hence, the short post. Know that your replies here and in person and over email to me are priceless and become more and more critical by the day.
Ever.
I've done hard things in the past. But nothing begins to come close to this endeavor. The intensity just doesn't stop. No, rather, it just gets even more demanding. Part of me reads that and says Duh, what else did I expect? Another part of me says Bring It On. And the other part of me simply wants to hibernate. Until June 27th.
Yes, I am fully on the rollercoaster. My stellar run yesterday gave way this morning to quite possibly the most awful bike ride I've ever done. This saddens me--I love my bike.
I can point to half a dozen things I could be doing better at this point in training. I won't bore you with the details. Suffice to say I am determined to not sabotage my dream.
I'm feeling rather demoralized right now--mentally, emotionally, psychologically. Hence, the short post. Know that your replies here and in person and over email to me are priceless and become more and more critical by the day.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Single digits
Yes, I'm down to 9 weeks, to be exact. There's something about going from 10 to 9 weeks left that makes Ironman feel quite imminent, like I need to be ready next week. When I exhale, I remind myself that there are still over two months to go. And I need every day in those 2+ months!
This was a "light" week for me--a week with planned reduced volume to give my body a break but still maintain my progress. The week's totals:
Total time = 10:25
Total mileage = 85.50
Swim = 1:30, 2.40
Bike = 4:20, 66.00
Run = 2:50, 17.10
Other = 1:45
And yet these totals would have been higher, had I completed every workout on my plan. But on Friday my body protested. And I listened by taking a self-imposed second day of complete rest. This sustained high volume of training had caught up with me. It's not so much that I'm doing too much...rather, it's I'm eating too little. With my ever-increasing intensity in training must come a corresponding increase in eating and drinking. This I'm not used to, and I suffered the consequences this week: low energy, slow recovery, physical fatigue that even sleep couldn't cure, and mental sluggishness. All signs of impending burnout.
So I upped my caloric intake and was conscious of drinking more water and in a matter of days, felt 100% better. As I write this, I'm fully aware that always being hungry is something many people see as a good problem to have. It is and it isn't. It is when caloric output is low. It isn't when I need those calories to simply function, to say nothing of carrying me on a 5-hour bike ride. Improper or insufficient nutrition at this point could spell doom for my dream.
On another note...I'm starting to do workouts that simulate race conditions. My long bike ride on Saturday was followed immediately by a 6-mile run. I need to learn how my legs will feel after riding for over 6 hours straight and how to adjust my run pace appropriately. And on Saturday? I felt so-so when I first started running and felt better the longer I went. That's a good sign.
My run today was an 8-miler done mid-afternoon, at just about the same time I'll start running the marathon in the race. This helps me get used to running later in the day after being active for already many hours and during the warmest part of the day.
One final note: As I'm sure you're all well aware, May is just around the corner. I meet with my coach tomorrow to plan my May workout schedule. Several big things happen in May. The reservoir where I do my open-water swim training opens May 7th. I have a century ride in Santa Fe on May 15th and my weekend rides from that point on will hover around 100+ miles. The whole month of May is will see my highest volume yet, and at the end of the month, my training will "peak."
In the meantime, my new cruiser bike sits patiently in the house still waiting for her inaugural ride. She understands that we'll have loads of fun come July.
This was a "light" week for me--a week with planned reduced volume to give my body a break but still maintain my progress. The week's totals:
Total time = 10:25
Total mileage = 85.50
Swim = 1:30, 2.40
Bike = 4:20, 66.00
Run = 2:50, 17.10
Other = 1:45
And yet these totals would have been higher, had I completed every workout on my plan. But on Friday my body protested. And I listened by taking a self-imposed second day of complete rest. This sustained high volume of training had caught up with me. It's not so much that I'm doing too much...rather, it's I'm eating too little. With my ever-increasing intensity in training must come a corresponding increase in eating and drinking. This I'm not used to, and I suffered the consequences this week: low energy, slow recovery, physical fatigue that even sleep couldn't cure, and mental sluggishness. All signs of impending burnout.
So I upped my caloric intake and was conscious of drinking more water and in a matter of days, felt 100% better. As I write this, I'm fully aware that always being hungry is something many people see as a good problem to have. It is and it isn't. It is when caloric output is low. It isn't when I need those calories to simply function, to say nothing of carrying me on a 5-hour bike ride. Improper or insufficient nutrition at this point could spell doom for my dream.
On another note...I'm starting to do workouts that simulate race conditions. My long bike ride on Saturday was followed immediately by a 6-mile run. I need to learn how my legs will feel after riding for over 6 hours straight and how to adjust my run pace appropriately. And on Saturday? I felt so-so when I first started running and felt better the longer I went. That's a good sign.
My run today was an 8-miler done mid-afternoon, at just about the same time I'll start running the marathon in the race. This helps me get used to running later in the day after being active for already many hours and during the warmest part of the day.
One final note: As I'm sure you're all well aware, May is just around the corner. I meet with my coach tomorrow to plan my May workout schedule. Several big things happen in May. The reservoir where I do my open-water swim training opens May 7th. I have a century ride in Santa Fe on May 15th and my weekend rides from that point on will hover around 100+ miles. The whole month of May is will see my highest volume yet, and at the end of the month, my training will "peak."
In the meantime, my new cruiser bike sits patiently in the house still waiting for her inaugural ride. She understands that we'll have loads of fun come July.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
The fine line between precaution and neurosis
Last fall, I read a fabulous little book called "Ironplanner" that was written, as you may have guessed, to help folks plan for, train for, and complete Ironman. The author introduced the book by reflecting on her own Ironman experiences--the time, energy, and attention to detail required to be successful. Oh, and the compulsion that surely will develop along the way. I consider myself a careful person. I wear my seatbelt all the time. I know when to say when to the wine bottle. I stay a safe distance from the cliff's edge. I never take off on a ride without my bike helmet, RoadID anklet, cell phone, and credit card, you know, just in case. Lest you consider all of that to be merely common sense, also know that I'm the girl who plans her free time, who can be spontaneous if given enough warning, and who rarely does things not on the to-do list. My 401(k) investing aside, I take very few risks.
No amount of desire for all things planned and predictable, however, prepared me for how utterly preoccupied I'm becoming on this journey.
This won't be the best analogy, but hang with me. Have you ever had a dull ache somewhere minor, maybe on your elbow from hitting it against something? Better yet--maybe you have a song in your head that plays and plays and plays and... This is my life--a 24/7 soundtrack somewhere in my back of my mind of what should I eat and when should I go to bed and who's sick so I can avoid the germs and can I go to happy hour or do I have a swim planned and if I do go to happy hour when can I get in my swim and how busy is my workweek and how will that affect training and am I neglecting my friends and family and if so what do I do and should I stop by the store on my way home from work to pick up food for the next three days and if so what do we need let me try to create the shopping list from memory and...........................INHALE........
I was telling friends at lunch the other day that there's not a minute that passes that I don't think about this undertaking. Sometimes it's very much in the forefront of my mind, like when I'm talking about it or planning workouts or travel or whatnot. Most often, though, it's a lowgrade mumble somewhere in the reaches of my consciousness, a whisper Don't forget about me everything you do matters. And that's true and it's not. I do think about needing to avoid germs. As well as being vigilant about rest and general self-care so I can feel good enough for tomorrow's workout session. Aside from spending more time in the pool and on the bike and in my running shoes, however, I don't think my life has changed all that drastically. (I get that some of you may beg to differ.)
Ironplanner reminded me that there are many things not under my control when it comes to training and racing: weather, the "other people" out there, and emergencies, to name a few major ones. Everything else falls squarely inside my circle of control: how I treat myself during training and during rest, what I eat, when I sleep, when I say yes to one more cocktail. And so on.
Ironplanner warned about becoming obsessed over every little thing, whether directly related or only tangentially connected to the end goal. At the time I thought What a bunch of freaks.
Well here I am, bordering on becoming or already having become one of those freaks, depending on whom you ask.
It's funny...I'm experiencing this fascinating double-duty of simultaneously going through this process and watching myself go through this process. This dual focus creates a clarity I've rarely experienced: I feel every muscle move and engage, I hear every breath, I take note of every person I see on the road or on the trail, I hear every sound and smell every smell (especially the burgers on the grill). With such heightened presence, no wonder Ironman training pushes people to the edge of obsession.
At the same time, I'm careful about how much I talk out loud about my training, the event, and all the nitty-gritty details that accompany this goal. Most of my thoughts stay in my head. I never want to be "that girl" who can't shut up about her average bike pace or swim stroke or nutrition this-and-that. If you ask me to share, that's a wholy different story--I'll talk your ear off as long as you seem curious. You can find me over here making my lists and checking them twice and pouring over the latest obscure research findings.
No amount of desire for all things planned and predictable, however, prepared me for how utterly preoccupied I'm becoming on this journey.
This won't be the best analogy, but hang with me. Have you ever had a dull ache somewhere minor, maybe on your elbow from hitting it against something? Better yet--maybe you have a song in your head that plays and plays and plays and... This is my life--a 24/7 soundtrack somewhere in my back of my mind of what should I eat and when should I go to bed and who's sick so I can avoid the germs and can I go to happy hour or do I have a swim planned and if I do go to happy hour when can I get in my swim and how busy is my workweek and how will that affect training and am I neglecting my friends and family and if so what do I do and should I stop by the store on my way home from work to pick up food for the next three days and if so what do we need let me try to create the shopping list from memory and...........................INHALE........
I was telling friends at lunch the other day that there's not a minute that passes that I don't think about this undertaking. Sometimes it's very much in the forefront of my mind, like when I'm talking about it or planning workouts or travel or whatnot. Most often, though, it's a lowgrade mumble somewhere in the reaches of my consciousness, a whisper Don't forget about me everything you do matters. And that's true and it's not. I do think about needing to avoid germs. As well as being vigilant about rest and general self-care so I can feel good enough for tomorrow's workout session. Aside from spending more time in the pool and on the bike and in my running shoes, however, I don't think my life has changed all that drastically. (I get that some of you may beg to differ.)
Ironplanner reminded me that there are many things not under my control when it comes to training and racing: weather, the "other people" out there, and emergencies, to name a few major ones. Everything else falls squarely inside my circle of control: how I treat myself during training and during rest, what I eat, when I sleep, when I say yes to one more cocktail. And so on.
Ironplanner warned about becoming obsessed over every little thing, whether directly related or only tangentially connected to the end goal. At the time I thought What a bunch of freaks.
Well here I am, bordering on becoming or already having become one of those freaks, depending on whom you ask.
It's funny...I'm experiencing this fascinating double-duty of simultaneously going through this process and watching myself go through this process. This dual focus creates a clarity I've rarely experienced: I feel every muscle move and engage, I hear every breath, I take note of every person I see on the road or on the trail, I hear every sound and smell every smell (especially the burgers on the grill). With such heightened presence, no wonder Ironman training pushes people to the edge of obsession.
At the same time, I'm careful about how much I talk out loud about my training, the event, and all the nitty-gritty details that accompany this goal. Most of my thoughts stay in my head. I never want to be "that girl" who can't shut up about her average bike pace or swim stroke or nutrition this-and-that. If you ask me to share, that's a wholy different story--I'll talk your ear off as long as you seem curious. You can find me over here making my lists and checking them twice and pouring over the latest obscure research findings.
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