1. I'm trying to completely ignore the fact that I'm racing this weekend (spoiler: I'm only being partially successful, as seen below). I have no idea where our hotel is, or where the expo is, or even where my bike shoes are right now. I haven't done laundry or pulled out bags to pack stuff in or put all my nutrition into separate plastic bags. I know that everything I need is inside this house - and more importantly, inside me - and it will all end up in the car tomorrow morning somehow. As long as I have my bike and know which way to wear the helmet (pending), I'm pretty sure it will all be just fine.
2. My pre-race nervous breakdown arrived just as scheduled Tuesday morning in the form of an email to my coach filled with anxiety and run-on sentences. She pulled me back from the ledge with a shepherd's hook and I've spent most of the past two days not thinking about the race (honestly). But what I took from our conversation, other than I need to chill the fuck out, is a change to the way that I look at racing. I'm like Elvis: all shook up. And it has me doing things differently than I ever have. In the past, going into a 70.3 I've been extra focused all week and banned beer and ice cream and refined sugar and for two really notable weeks that almost ended my marriage, carbs completely. But where did that get me? Um, nowhere. So this time, I'm being far more relaxed because I certainly don't think that I can do much worse than crashing my bike and sobbing on the run. My diet over the past few months have continued to evolve in such a way that I always have enough fruits and veggies and protein in it day-to-day, so that isn't a worry, and I think the only real sacrifice I'm making is that I've changed my nightly bowl of ice cream (2 servings?) down to a mug of ice cream (1 serving) down to a tiny side dish of ice cream (maybe 1/2 a serving). I've been cutting down very slightly in the amount of cheese that I eat for a while now (mostly only eating small amounts of the good stuff instead of mass quantities of the less-good-stuff), although that certainly didn't prevent me from devouring three slices of pizza last night, and I even had a beer with dinner. And do I think that having a single beer totally screwed my race on Sunday? No, because I know that what matters more is what I've done for the last five months as I've trained and recovered and trained and recovered. The spaces between the training, the consistency in the training itself. There isn't a lot I can do this week to undo all of that, and when I figured that out, every light on the switchboard in my brain lit up.
3. One of the other big take-aways from our talk was how to treat taper week. I woke up Tuesday morning and my legs felt trashed. As soon as she told me that it was okay to skip any workouts I didn't want to do this week, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted. Now, I don't think she was full of crap when she put my taper week schedule together, but I also think that no one but me can know how I'm feeling every day and what I need this week. For the first time since being coached, I've been looking at my schedule every day like a buffet filled with delicious morsels. I'm only choosing the most decadent ones to put in my mouth and the rest I'm putting on a plate called "the race." How's that for a crappy metaphor?
But I think it's working. I've either skipped or mangled a workout every day this week and this morning I finally started to feel like I was getting a little pep back in my step. My heart rate on my shake-out run definitely revealed that my body is at least feeling partially rested, which cheered me right up, and I'm looking forward to a swim tonight with some fast bubbles and a ride in the morning with my favorite cycling partner in crime.
I'll be back tomorrow with a "goals post" so you can all leave me comments wishing me good luck. Don't do it today, bitches, come back tomorrow.