Here we are, one week in of my 29 week training plan for IM
Vineman. Due to scheduling conflicts, I
did miss one bike ride last week. My
concern isn’t too high, but I do need to keep the will intact, especially since
accepting missed workouts can cascade.
I am fascinated by distance at this point. On Monday, I ran 5 miles and yesterday I ran 3 and biked 18. The workouts were tough enough, and I did feel the fatigue after. However, those tiny little microcosms are not indicative of the bigger story. The distances will increase, the time will get greater. Eventually the body will adjust.
I often describe what triathletes do as similar to racecar drivers. You and me would not have the ability to take a racecar to its top speed because our bodies will revolt against that feeling. But to the drivers, that feels okay. Their bodies have accepted that feeling, the muscle memories are in place. Triathlon is the same way. One day you train at 3 miles of running; months later it is 17 miles. You accomplish by being okay with the feeling. Now, it seems so far away. Then, it will feel normal.
Triathletes, especially the iron-distance lunatics, ultimately sacrifice a fairly normal life for one that closely resembles a world of giving up time, food that tastes fantastic, more time, and things done with people. It is a lonely existence of solo miles, alone time in the pool, road, and gym. You stop going out, you stop hanging out. You are the proverbial person in the viral video “Conversation with an Ironman”.
People close to you also sacrifice. Before the training, they probably valued your time. They valued your presence. Now, they see less of you, they plan vacations around your race, and they seem almost to be yielding to your every whim. They understand sacrifice. They are supportive to the end. They watch your very selfish approach, your seemingly conceited focus on the finish line, and they support it. They hear your endless drivel regarding training, bike fit, wetsuits and body glide, and they accept it.
For this I owe a great thanks to my wife, son, parents and friends who watch me assault the pavement. You will be my motivation near the finish line, my waiting support crew, my amazing supporters. I cannot wait until I crash across the finish line to see you waiting, somehow grinding out the day as I traipse across the Sonoma Valley.
