So, I guess I have to report back on how my training regime fared since my last post, which was full of bravado and promises.
Did that bravado last the festive season? Yep, great. First week back at work? Not so good.
I don't know why. Most of my requirements for motivation were there:
Race locked in? Check
Healthy respect (or even fear) for the race in question? Check
Weather nice and warm? Check
But during the week, I just couldn't get anything going. At the end of each day when I drove home from work, I gazed enviously at the runners I saw going about their business. Yet it didn't cross my mind to lace on the shoes when I got home. Yes, I'm a habitual morning trainer... but even so!
Today though, I snapped out of it.
I'd had a few things to attend to and spent the day thinking about these rather than my training program. When KKB got home from his crazy long ride, I'd just gotten through my to do list. Although I knew I wouldn't have enough time to catch up on the long run I'd expected to get in that day, I decided that it was time to blow out some cobwebs.
I left behind my watch and my Garmin and just ran.
It felt good.
It left me reinvigorated and ready to go.
It takes three weeks, right...
I've completed the first two weeks of what I can fairly honestly say is proper triathlon training.
I made a commitment about a month ago to train six times a week, and although I can't say I've achieved this, the last two weeks have definitely qualified as some form of training for triathlon
Since it takes three weeks to form a habit... wish me luck to keep it up for Christmas week...
I made a commitment about a month ago to train six times a week, and although I can't say I've achieved this, the last two weeks have definitely qualified as some form of training for triathlon
- a run over 10ks
- a long ride (or in today's case, a long WT due to rain)
- a swim session
- ... plus a couple of other bits and pieces each week.
Since it takes three weeks to form a habit... wish me luck to keep it up for Christmas week...
You've got mail
Package arrived today from Roadrunner Sports. KKB and I have been ordering up a storm.
I've got enough GU to see me through for many a long run. I'm excited (in some sick, deluded way) to try the new Mint-Chocolate flavour. It's one of their special holiday flavours, along with Vanilla Gingerbread. Apparently it's a limited edition, so I hope I don't like it that much...
Add to this mountain of Gu Goodness the Megaburn Bars donated to me by my recently "retired" friend Annie, and I'm set.
Running Like Crazy
Happy birthday to my new online buddy, T-Bone, who will run like crazy for all of 2010.
I discovered T-Bone on one HD's Thursday Night Live, when I tuned in to watch an interview with Craig Alexander. There was T-Bone, being interviewed about his dream to run 52 marathons in 52 weeks. His adventure will see him attempt to complete marathons in all of the continents, including some of the "must do" events like Boston and New York.
I started following his blog and recently discovered he'd decided to run the last of his marathons at home in Melbourne on New Year's Eve next year. He put the call in for 100 runners to join him and before I knew it, I was emailing him telling him what an honour it would be to run his last of these marathons with him... practically begging him for a spot!
Call it a moment of weakness, call it the comradarie of running, call it crazy, if you will. But whatever you call it, I'm officially in.
I discovered T-Bone on one HD's Thursday Night Live, when I tuned in to watch an interview with Craig Alexander. There was T-Bone, being interviewed about his dream to run 52 marathons in 52 weeks. His adventure will see him attempt to complete marathons in all of the continents, including some of the "must do" events like Boston and New York.
I started following his blog and recently discovered he'd decided to run the last of his marathons at home in Melbourne on New Year's Eve next year. He put the call in for 100 runners to join him and before I knew it, I was emailing him telling him what an honour it would be to run his last of these marathons with him... practically begging him for a spot!
Call it a moment of weakness, call it the comradarie of running, call it crazy, if you will. But whatever you call it, I'm officially in.
Silence...
I know, I've been a bit silent after my last post, when I was full of bravado about my next Ironman. Can I just say my plea for people to train with was greeted with, well, not much interest. So, what's a girl to do?
Here's what. Up the stakes... who wants to race with me? There's only 400 or so places left so get in quick...
Talk about a way to guarantee some more silence...
In other news, I've officially started my campaign. The key till the end of the year is consistency. Don't worry about what to do, just do it. Run, ride, swim, whatever. Six training sessions a week minimum.
So, since my last post I've been sick for a week, completed the BlackHeart Sprint adventure race at Karana Downs (lots of fun), started swimming after a l-o-n-g hiatus and dusted off the mag trainer for some bike sessions in front of the TV.
Bring it on I say.
Here's what. Up the stakes... who wants to race with me? There's only 400 or so places left so get in quick...
Talk about a way to guarantee some more silence...
In other news, I've officially started my campaign. The key till the end of the year is consistency. Don't worry about what to do, just do it. Run, ride, swim, whatever. Six training sessions a week minimum.
So, since my last post I've been sick for a week, completed the BlackHeart Sprint adventure race at Karana Downs (lots of fun), started swimming after a l-o-n-g hiatus and dusted off the mag trainer for some bike sessions in front of the TV.
Bring it on I say.
Ironman announcement: the athletic powerhouse is BACK
The athletic powerhouse has entered Ironman Regensburg, a new Ironman race for 2010 in eastern Germany (near the Bavarian forest).This means that the athletic powerhouse has lots of strength training to do for the next 3 months, and lots of hilly rides to do for the next 9 months. Anyone wanna train with me?
Another brave woman
So from Jessica Watson, to another brave woman I met yesterday on the River Ride.
I aimed to do a two hour ride, one and a half laps of the river yesterday. I felt I needed the time on the bike to prepare for next week's adventure race, and the river ride is easy. It's a backup; a default. It's a ride I think we all take for granted.
I was most of the way round and already calculating how I would make up the two hours when just near Davies Park I encountered a lady changing a flat. As is the custom amongst cyclists, I asked if she was OK. I could just tell from her hesitance to answer, that the answer should have been no.
Of course I stopped. She was kneeling on the ground with her two spare tubes laid out in front of her, trying to figure out what was next.
"I'm just a little out of practice. It's my first ride for a while," she explained.
Rather than take over and get her on her way quickly, I decided it would be more productive, and she would feel more comfortable, if I helped her less, and offered her moral support. After all, she did have all the gear and clearly was an old hand.
"I've booked my bike in for a service on Tuesday. I just thought I'd take a quick spin. And I get a flat." Everything had deteriorated - her spares took a lot of coaxing to get any air into and her pump just didn't work. I did what any cyclist would do, inflated her tyre with a CO2 cartridge, which she offered to return if I left her my details. I refused of course - it's just a canister. It's what cyclists do for each other.
She had been obviously quite agitated throughout the process, but it wasn't till we were almost ready to go that I found out her full story.
It had been 18 months since her last ride. Not long prior to that, she'd moved to Brisbane from the Gold Coast with her new husband. After just nine months of marriage, her husband, not even 50, had suffered a stroke. She was now his full time carer, and spent her days ferrying him to physical rehab, speech therapy... a long list of appointments, which took hours to prepare for and hours to get him home from and settled again.
As she guided him through his rehabilitation, and as he got a little better, she'd started searching for an opportunity to get back on the bike. She had let him know, but wasn't sure that he comprehended, that if he woke up one day and she'd left a helmet on the bed, that she was out riding; and that she would be home soon.
I could see the guilt weighing heavy upon her. That's what I'd identified as I'd first seen her kneeling by the side of the bike path, struggling to repair her bike so she could get home to him - preferably before he even knew she was gone.
As we parted ways I encouraged her not to let this one bad experience discourage her. I reassured her that her husband would understand her desire to ride.
In retrospect, I wish I had have given her my details. At the time, I'd declined for the right reasons, and even when I found out her situation, I felt that she needed the cost of the canister more than I did. But now I wish I could contact her, I wish I could continue to encourage her and support her.
For this lady, whose name I do not know, the River Ride is a luxury beyond my comprehension; she dreams of a Saturday when the River Ride is once again the default activity.
I hope she continues to pursue this dream. Even though yesterday didn't turn out quite as she would have liked, I hope she continues with the same bravery.
I aimed to do a two hour ride, one and a half laps of the river yesterday. I felt I needed the time on the bike to prepare for next week's adventure race, and the river ride is easy. It's a backup; a default. It's a ride I think we all take for granted.
I was most of the way round and already calculating how I would make up the two hours when just near Davies Park I encountered a lady changing a flat. As is the custom amongst cyclists, I asked if she was OK. I could just tell from her hesitance to answer, that the answer should have been no.
Of course I stopped. She was kneeling on the ground with her two spare tubes laid out in front of her, trying to figure out what was next.
"I'm just a little out of practice. It's my first ride for a while," she explained.
Rather than take over and get her on her way quickly, I decided it would be more productive, and she would feel more comfortable, if I helped her less, and offered her moral support. After all, she did have all the gear and clearly was an old hand.
"I've booked my bike in for a service on Tuesday. I just thought I'd take a quick spin. And I get a flat." Everything had deteriorated - her spares took a lot of coaxing to get any air into and her pump just didn't work. I did what any cyclist would do, inflated her tyre with a CO2 cartridge, which she offered to return if I left her my details. I refused of course - it's just a canister. It's what cyclists do for each other.
She had been obviously quite agitated throughout the process, but it wasn't till we were almost ready to go that I found out her full story.
It had been 18 months since her last ride. Not long prior to that, she'd moved to Brisbane from the Gold Coast with her new husband. After just nine months of marriage, her husband, not even 50, had suffered a stroke. She was now his full time carer, and spent her days ferrying him to physical rehab, speech therapy... a long list of appointments, which took hours to prepare for and hours to get him home from and settled again.
As she guided him through his rehabilitation, and as he got a little better, she'd started searching for an opportunity to get back on the bike. She had let him know, but wasn't sure that he comprehended, that if he woke up one day and she'd left a helmet on the bed, that she was out riding; and that she would be home soon.
I could see the guilt weighing heavy upon her. That's what I'd identified as I'd first seen her kneeling by the side of the bike path, struggling to repair her bike so she could get home to him - preferably before he even knew she was gone.
As we parted ways I encouraged her not to let this one bad experience discourage her. I reassured her that her husband would understand her desire to ride.
In retrospect, I wish I had have given her my details. At the time, I'd declined for the right reasons, and even when I found out her situation, I felt that she needed the cost of the canister more than I did. But now I wish I could contact her, I wish I could continue to encourage her and support her.
For this lady, whose name I do not know, the River Ride is a luxury beyond my comprehension; she dreams of a Saturday when the River Ride is once again the default activity.
I hope she continues to pursue this dream. Even though yesterday didn't turn out quite as she would have liked, I hope she continues with the same bravery.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)