detached
I just don't feel like I have a lot to say right now.
Part of it, I'm sure, is that I'm in the last little push before I taper into my 70.3, and I'm feeling a little flattened. I'm still reading the Mr. MAF book, and I can see that my body is following the process of HR training the way he lays it out. At first, it's difficult to keep the HR down on the run. When I started with Sonja last December, I had to chug along at a pretty meager pace and walk up even the slightest incline to keep it low. I'm not sure when the switch happened, but now I'm firmly on the other side. It is almost impossible for me to get my HR up. It started out on the bike but has now trickled over to the run. I think this means I have fitness now where there was very little before, but I'm not exactly sure. The only thing that I enjoy about it is that my miles are starting with smaller numbers again, and "enjoy" is probably a strong word. I'm pretty sure that I've finally figured out how to detach. I don't feel a lot of triumph when I see an 8:30 mile flash by on the watch in a training run, and I don't feel all that crabby when an 11:20 goes by. It just doesn't matter.
It's still early, but there's already a lot of chatter going on about ironman. It's all noise, coming at me from lots of different angles. I'm going to hopefully only say this once, but I absolutely do mean it. I am not making time goals for ironman. I'm spending some effort, even now, to try not to calculate what my training sessions will equal on race day. Part of that is because I don't want to have even an ounce of disappointment at the finish line. Part of that is because I've never raced this distance before. And part of that is because I understand, perhaps better than some, that anything can happen on race day. I could throw up in the water or get a bloody nose, I could flat the only way I know how: both tires at once. I could have ridiculous nutrition problems. So I'm not sitting around calculating my TT times into best- and worst-case scenarios. I do know this: I'm not going to win the race. I know that so many people going into ironman saying, "I just want to finish!" but most of them are dirty liars and have time windows and goals and secret sub-this-hour-or-that-hour finishing times in their head. I don't want to play. It just doesn't matter.
I did have an idea in my head last week about writing a post about recovery, and how what I do now with my coach is so different than what I did last summer when I was making up my own life. I still might write it. I realize now that all I was doing was hammering over and over and over, especially on the bike. Now that I've got actual recovery rides and runs and swims in my schedule I realize how trashed I felt all the time. I still feel tired after a few hard days in a row but it's not like last year when I had sore quads for 4 months straight. I couldn't stand to finish a ride and have my average mph be in the 15s. Now I don't even look at my data from recovery rides and runs most of the time. I show HR while I'm out there to make sure I stay in the recovery zone, and then I get home, upload it, and move on. The numbers on a recovery day don't matter.
And part of it, I'm sure, is the stress that is coming from looking for a new job, from not having one right now. I feel a bit at loose ends. I'm not really sure how to fill up my days, and the past day or two in particular I've just been feeling blue. It's been hard to get out of bed - because if I don't have to work, why bother getting up early to get my run in? I've spent lots of time applying to jobs and going through my email, and I should probably be spending a lot of time being the perfect housewife, because what else do I have to do? But instead I'm filling my time with nothing. Other than my workouts, I've been hiding out with my dogs on the couch. Being motionless. Motionless and numb.
Part of it, I'm sure, is that I'm in the last little push before I taper into my 70.3, and I'm feeling a little flattened. I'm still reading the Mr. MAF book, and I can see that my body is following the process of HR training the way he lays it out. At first, it's difficult to keep the HR down on the run. When I started with Sonja last December, I had to chug along at a pretty meager pace and walk up even the slightest incline to keep it low. I'm not sure when the switch happened, but now I'm firmly on the other side. It is almost impossible for me to get my HR up. It started out on the bike but has now trickled over to the run. I think this means I have fitness now where there was very little before, but I'm not exactly sure. The only thing that I enjoy about it is that my miles are starting with smaller numbers again, and "enjoy" is probably a strong word. I'm pretty sure that I've finally figured out how to detach. I don't feel a lot of triumph when I see an 8:30 mile flash by on the watch in a training run, and I don't feel all that crabby when an 11:20 goes by. It just doesn't matter.
It's still early, but there's already a lot of chatter going on about ironman. It's all noise, coming at me from lots of different angles. I'm going to hopefully only say this once, but I absolutely do mean it. I am not making time goals for ironman. I'm spending some effort, even now, to try not to calculate what my training sessions will equal on race day. Part of that is because I don't want to have even an ounce of disappointment at the finish line. Part of that is because I've never raced this distance before. And part of that is because I understand, perhaps better than some, that anything can happen on race day. I could throw up in the water or get a bloody nose, I could flat the only way I know how: both tires at once. I could have ridiculous nutrition problems. So I'm not sitting around calculating my TT times into best- and worst-case scenarios. I do know this: I'm not going to win the race. I know that so many people going into ironman saying, "I just want to finish!" but most of them are dirty liars and have time windows and goals and secret sub-this-hour-or-that-hour finishing times in their head. I don't want to play. It just doesn't matter.
I did have an idea in my head last week about writing a post about recovery, and how what I do now with my coach is so different than what I did last summer when I was making up my own life. I still might write it. I realize now that all I was doing was hammering over and over and over, especially on the bike. Now that I've got actual recovery rides and runs and swims in my schedule I realize how trashed I felt all the time. I still feel tired after a few hard days in a row but it's not like last year when I had sore quads for 4 months straight. I couldn't stand to finish a ride and have my average mph be in the 15s. Now I don't even look at my data from recovery rides and runs most of the time. I show HR while I'm out there to make sure I stay in the recovery zone, and then I get home, upload it, and move on. The numbers on a recovery day don't matter.
And part of it, I'm sure, is the stress that is coming from looking for a new job, from not having one right now. I feel a bit at loose ends. I'm not really sure how to fill up my days, and the past day or two in particular I've just been feeling blue. It's been hard to get out of bed - because if I don't have to work, why bother getting up early to get my run in? I've spent lots of time applying to jobs and going through my email, and I should probably be spending a lot of time being the perfect housewife, because what else do I have to do? But instead I'm filling my time with nothing. Other than my workouts, I've been hiding out with my dogs on the couch. Being motionless. Motionless and numb.