For me, this week has been about the little victories. After my long run last Sunday, my hamstrings and lower back were tight from running in the snow. On Monday, I thought I would do a little snow shovelling before my swim and 5k recovery run. About 30 minutes into the shovelling, I knew I had done something terribly wrong as I could barely stand up and it hurt to walk. I came into the house, stretched a bit, then did what any triathlete would do. I headed to the pool.
The swim was a challenge because a) My back was killing me. b) Ken wrote the swim. c) The main set was 16 X 150m at a pace that was, as usual, beyond comfortable. Ken was at the pool that day as he was working in the lifeguard's office. As he lounged in the office chair, I swam past the office window approximately 168 times. (The pool was short course and my swim was 4200m.) At first, I smiled and waved at Ken as I swam past. After starting the 150's, the smile turned to a glare and I may have stuck my tongue out at him on several occasions. By the 16th 150, I imagined walking over to the office, sticking my fingers in Ken's eyes and flipping his chair over backwards. It's funny the things that go through your mind during a swim workout. Don't get me wrong. I would never actually hurt Ken. But sometimes I swear he is up to something. Perhaps he is secretly taking courses at Western University to further his education. It is possible that he is writing his thesis and using me as his science experiment. His thesis could be entitled, "From Tugboat to Mermaid: a study in futility", or, "How to kill your girlfriend in 4200m". I can't say for sure what exactly that man is up to. But I will be watching him very closely and documenting all suspicious behaviours.
The rest of my week has been much of the same - hobbling to the treadmill, bike and the pool and being content with getting my workouts in. I think my back is on the mend now. It is definitely nothing serious, and I would not classify it as an "injury". But it is has been a nuisance, and I look forward to not getting on the foam roller 39 times a day.
This is the main reason why, last year, I said that once I completed Kona, I would no longer participate in the Ironman distances. Last year was so brutal, I just got sick of the injuries and I wondered if all the pounding and energy spent was even worth it. I remember calling Ken upon my return to the hotel room in Arizona. My exact words were, "I am in so much pain. That was not fun. If I get the Kona spot I'm done after that." It was an outpouring of emotions. I was crying by the way, and I meant every word I said. Some of my "experienced" Ironman friends chuckled at my announcement. Ann Hughes Frost told me that Ironman is just like child birth. You go through it, it sucks and it hurts, then you forget about the pain and you do it all over again. Coming from Ann, it was worded a bit more eloquently than that, but you get the idea.
Well, by now, I have forgotten some of the pain I endured at the hands of IMAZ. And I do have to say that I love the Ironman journey. My life revolves around the workout that Chris Helwig has me pencilled in for each and every day. I am comfortable with the routine and I can't imagine what I would do with my time if I wasn't doing this. Therefore, I have been reconsidering my decision to pack it all in. There is, say, a one in one thousand chance that Kona won't be the end.
Then I think about work. I only have seven years until I retire. I have an excellent job that gives me 6 days off every 5 weeks, and that is before I pick my holidays. If I save all of my holidays for the Spring, Summer and Fall, I can train for almost any race I want to pick. It is a great stress reliever and a healthy outlet given the work that I do. Therefore, I think that there is maybe a one in five hundred shot of me continuing down the Ironman path after Kona.
During my training on the computrainer and treadmill, both of which are in the basement, I watch my collection of DVD's from the 2004 to the 2013 Ironman World Championships. These DVD's are inspiring and I love hearing about the people who are racing well into their 70's. One fellow has raced at Kona over 20 times. What an amazing way to spend a life. Racing into my 70's. There is a one in one hundred chance that for me, Ironman will live past 2015.
When I watch the World Championship coverage, I can see just how hard a day October 10th is going to be. I am not great in the heat, and I did almost die one year racing on a humid summer day. It was during a 10k race in Springbank Park. I remember having problems breathing at about the 9km mark. At the 9.5km mark, I was gasping for breath. I staggered off the course and collapsed. When I came to, a volunteer was at my side reassuring me that, despite the projectile vomiting, I was fine. I yelled at a man who popped out of the woods drinking a coke. I told him I needed a drink. He vanished. I told my co-worker to let work know I might not make it in. I was thankful that he drove his Police cruiser over the grass and through the park to check on my condition. I later found out that he was working in the east end and that he was never actually within 15km on the park. I was at least proud of the fact that I staggered across the finish line and hung onto third place. Until someone told me I didn't actually cross the finish line. When the ambulance arrived, I begged them to help me. I told them that I was going to die. I think that got their attention as they packed my body in ice and raced me to Victoria Hospital. I ended up missing four days of work due to heat stroke. That was an extremely frightening situation. That could happen in Kona. If it did, I would have to try to go back and conquer that beast once and for all. There is a one in fifty chance I won't retire from triathlons at the end of this year.
And finally, why is it that we push our bodies to such limits. Every Ironman athlete has a story to tell and most stories are much more dramatic and interesting than any of mine. And these stories aren't limited to Ironman. What about Canadian rower Silken Laumenn or USA gymnast Kerri Strug. There are so many examples of athletes who overcome insurmountable odds to achieve their goals. And who doesn't love an underdog! I think that the true champions of Ironman are the ones who race until midnight. That is why everyone returns to the finish line late at night. To see and cheer for the people who fight and endure. They put it all out there, and they cross the line with minutes and sometimes seconds to spare. Before my fight against Russia at the World Championships, my coach, Matt Mizerski, told me that above all else, I had to "leave it all in the ring." That was the first time I had heard that expression and I will never forget it. This is one of my favourite pics. I would certainly never use it as a profile pic for a dating website, but I love it, nonetheless. It was taken immediately after I won that fight against Russia. This is what it looks like to leave it all in the ring:
And so I have come to realize that sport, for me, is truly an addiction. The feeling of "leaving it all in the ring" or on the road, or in the pool or in the ocean - that is the main attraction. I love to race and to push myself to the extremes. I hate losing more than almost anything in this world. But when you push yourself to your limits and know that you could not have given one more ounce or thrown one more punch, or gained one more second, there is an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. To race to the death and to have no excuses for your performance is the ultimate win. That is the feeling that I chase, and that feeling makes the likelihood of me racing after Kona a very very very strong possibility.
