Dear Triathlon Training

Dear Triathlon Training,

You started as a 'sure, why not' challenge.
You made me get into a pool.
You made me get up at the crack of dawn.
You made me buy a bike.
And a helmet. And shorts with padded butts. 
You made me eat. A lot.
You made me paranoid of overly friendly dogs.
You forced me out of my comfort zone. 
You made me love running again.
You turned me into an anxious ball of overexercised energy.
You took over my life.
You tested my strength.
You tested my limits.
You made me second guess myself.
You made me prioritize. 
You turned my hair into a greasy, natty, mess of chlorine and sweat.
You inflamed my left hip and seriously pissed off my IT bands. 

You made me stronger, physically and emotionally.

Swimming taught me to breath.
Biking on hills taught me to push harder and grunt louder. 
Running reminded me how free and relaxing a good sweat session can be.
All three have taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to. 


This letter may be premature, Triathlon Training as our dance is still a few days away. But I just wanted to say thank you. You got me through a rough patch or two by giving me an outlet and a perspective. You made me smile through the nerves, to work through the hurt, and focus on the positive.


I hope to repay the favor by going confidently and boldly into the water and staying strong throughout. If I panic in the river, wipe out during the ride or walk the entire 6.2 miles,--I will still  be proud of the past five months of soreness, sweat, and strength. And grateful for the challenge. 


In conclusion, I guess it didn't suck as much as I thought sometimes and all. We're cool.
Thanks and stuff.


Linds

Things I Did Not Know in January But Now I Do

• The terms gear, cadence, three-up, saddle-sore, or clip-ins.
• An itchy nose means improper breathing in the water.
• Swimsuits are really expensive.
• Bikes are really expensive.
• Chlorine is an overwhelming odor at first but eventually you get used to it. Maybe even grow to like it.
• Putting baby powder in your swim cap will prevent it from sticking together. It's better to add the baby powder after you've swam and before you're dressed in a black sweater.
• There is nothing quite as good as a good run.
• You do not have to shave your legs to get into the pool. Honestly, no one notices.
• The mirrors on the left side of the spin class room are good. The mirrors on the right side of the spin class room are evil.
• Sitting on a bike in the back row of a spin class means that you can watch muscluar guys to pull ups, heavy machines, and lower ab leg lifts behind you. Always get to class early.
• Dogs of all sizes are fascinated by bike wheels. Dog owners of all sizes are idiots.
• It is completely possible to learn how to swim in three months.
• Learning to cycle is not simply 'riding a bike.'.
• Triathlons are really expensive.
• Not rotating enough in the water = back pain
• Seat too high or low on your bike = back pain
• Taking spin classes to learn how to bike is like only running on a treadmill before your first race. Eventually, you have to get outside.
• Bike tires need to be inflated at least once a week.
• If it feels like your bike weights ten extra pounds no matter how hard you push and it's hard to balance than usual, check your tires.
• We can pretty much do anything we set our minds to -- no matter how daunting, terrifying, overwhelming, and challenging.

Lessons in Not Drowning

Hey! Look. I have a blog. I totally forgot.

I didn't actually forget. I have been training for a triathlon.

I had a lot of misconceptions about swimming, biking, running, and the process of learning them all when I started on this adventure.

 I thought the hardest part of swimming would be appearing in public in a Speedo followed by getting into a public pool. False. The hardest part about swimming is almost everything. Swimming is not a pretty sport, nor is it easy. Forty minutes in the pool and I'm more sore, exhausted, and hungry than sixty minutes of running.

I have changed my definition from swimming to 'not drowning'.  A coworker recently asked if I had conquered the swim part yet. Conquered swimming? Never. I replied that I have conquered not drowning and am somewhat sure that I would make it out of the Hudson River unassisted. It's the best I can do right now. 

There is a lot of technique and skill involved with something that looks so easy. I also believed that my running and martial arts experiences would give me an edge when it comes to kicking and strength. False. No matter how many miles my legs can push forward on a run, it is a struggle to keep them moving in the water. There are many groups of muscles in the legs and those that are used for swimming are not neccesarily used for running. At least not in the same motions. Running muscles make for good running--not necessarily good swimming.

 I also have what my friend and coach, Laura, call 'marathoner's lungs'. I am used to getting air into my lungs whenever I want to. This is problem when swimming with your head in the water. (Unless you're an amphibion. Which I'm not--but my skin feels like it because chlorine is the anti-christ.) I panic when my breathing is messed up and it took me a few weeks to figure out that blowing bubbles = breathing.

 Despite all of the frustration and anxiety from swimming, I really am enjoying it. It is a full body workout that leaves you with a "I definitely worked out but am still able to function" feeling. Long runs take an hour or so to recover from and cycling is still a mystery to me.  I like just turning my mind of and focusing on counting laps and practicing new skills. The pool can be calming and quiet at times. Or a creeptastic adventure. I'm not confident YET in my ability to conquer an open water swim but at least I can outswim a 70 y/o dude with water weights and a comb-over asking me to lunch from the opposite end of the pool. I can also keep going long enough to let the weird guy who followed me in from the treadmills at sat at the top of my lane for 20 minutes that I'm not interested.

 *Lane rules should be followed like treadmill rules. Never take the lane immediately next to a person if another is available. Actual swimmers would argue this point and say the waves or turbulance create good resistance and speed. But I am not a swimmer; I am an unfriendly, trying-not-to-drown-er and need my space.

Learning to swim/not drown has been a very humbling experience--but in a very good way. I had become complacent with running, accepting a 10 minute-mile and justifying laziness. Swimming has reminded me why I once loved running so much. It's taking something you've never done before and never thought you could do and then actually doing it. It's about setting small goals and establishing milestones to achieve them.

 Every stroke, every lap, every breath, every accidental chlorine inhalation, is another step outside my comfort zone and another yard closer to accomplishment. I step out of the pool with arms that feel like Jello and a burning sensation down the back of my legs and a secret smile.