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.