Anything is Possible

For some reason, I was under the illusion that training for this race the second time around would be easier than the first. I’d know more. Most importantly, I’d have one race under my belt and that would give me confidence. One of the biggest issues I had during my training for the first Ironman was self-doubt: could I really do it? I wasn’t sure.

I know now: I did do it. But when I look back, and then look forward to what’s ahead of me, the self-doubt returns in a different form. I did that? How? And how will I ever do it again?

I don’t have a coach this time around. We’ll see if that turns out to be a mistake. But I do know more than I did before. I’ve had two Covid years to work on my swim technique, run long distances, and climb a lot of hills on my bike. I have a pretty good idea of where I need to be in my training and when. I know that the swim distance has to feel easy, so I need to get used to it early. I know how much riding I have to do, and I know not to panic if I need to take a break from running, because the training I do on the bike translates well.

I’ve learned about the immense benefits of taking down weeks and getting regular massages. This fall, I invested in a good, direct-drive trainer and a six-month subscription to Rouvy. I keep an eye on the mileage of my running shoes and change them long before they look like a dog has chewed them. I understand now that every workout must have a purpose, and I’m a wholehearted convert to the 80/20 principle of endurance training (80% easy, 20% hard). These are things that, believe it or not, I didn’t know before. So, that’s progress.

That said, the system isn’t perfect. I’m back to playing Whack a Mole with my running—as soon as I solve one issue, another one pops up. My success with swimming is uneven. Sometimes the technique comes together and suddenly I’m fast. And then…it falls apart again, and regular slow me slogs along, trying to figure out what I’m doing wrong. I have a tendency to get a little too excited about running and put in more miles than I’m ready for. And my skin: don’t get me started on what chlorine and riding are doing to my skin, though I’m keeping on top of it with a lot of antihistamines and a bathroom shelf full of Aveeno products.

One thing I’ve been reminded of in the past few months is that a person can’t be half-hearted about training for this race. You’re either all in or you probably won’t make it to the start line.

But another thing: the system is never perfect. I’d forgotten that. I keep looking for that elusive place where everything is working and I have no aches and pains anywhere. And sure, I feel that way from time to time. But I also feel tired, and little things (and sometimes bigger things) go wrong. Like it or not, that is the process.

It makes me think of how I’m always hopeful when I start writing a novel that I’m going to land it perfectly on the first draft. Great dream. Never gonna happen.

I know what I have to do in the (eek) remaining six months. It will just be a question of listening to my body and ignoring the mental chatter of just because you did it once, doesn’t mean…

No. Anything is possible if you train for it.