Thursday, May 17, 2007

New Beginnings

"He has the deed half done who has made a beginning."
Horace
Wildflower was a crisis of confidence for me. Frankly, I had started to get cocky about being able to finish this Ironman thing, and the triathlon gods decided to teach me a lesson.
At first, the lesson resulted in that "I don't belong here" feeling that most of us have experienced at one time or another. Then I tried to listen. I know what I need to do in befriending the open water. I'll be there every chance I get. I know what my 40 year old frame needs by way of recovery. I will be cutting volume even further during recovery weeks because I know I need it.
But then there is the whole "beginning again" thing. I had to start training again.
So, I did. Some swimming, some biking, some running--all strictly in conformity with the plan set out by Coach Book. Man it felt good to have fresh legs again. I guess I had been so tired for so long that I had forgotten what normal felt like.
But it was weird. These were some of the same basic workouts I had done before, the distances were not appreciably greater, but I had an intruder along for the ride.
Every time I started a workout this week, I had a strange feeling in my stomach. Wednesday, for example, I did my swim workout in the lap pool in my neighborhood. I was the only one there after hours on a beautiful evening. Perfect setting. Sun going down. Slight breeze. Lights coming on. But when I began the 200 meter base intervals, my stomach gnawed at me. What was that feeling?
It was fear.
Can I do this? Can I complete the workout that I start? Do I have it in me to swim these intervals hard and complete every one?
It wasn't just the swim. I felt the same on my familiar run and bike workouts as well.
But I began. And I finished. One interval at a time. One workout at a time.
Not because I'm anything unusual. I'm sure you did the same thing. All I did was start. We all have to start.
Someone planted a seed in me today. A dear friend wrote the words to me on the instant messenger, "You're meant to be an Ironman."
Her confidence is planted in me. I will water it, tend it, protect it, and hopefully, September will be the harvest.

10 comments:

SkiRough said...

Oh sure... the ole seed being planted allegory!

So retro these days. ;)

Greyhound, you WERE meant to be an Ironman!! Nice post btw.

21stCenturyMom said...

The loudest thought that came to mind when I read this was "I'm glad I'm not the only one". That is in reference to the fear and the sense of not being able to do something I've done before. I get that all the time. As you note, the solution is to get out there and do it.

And I agree with Trimama - you are meant to be an Ironman because you want to be an Ironman and you are willing to commit to Ironman.

Curly Su said...

that's a good friend...

Brent Buckner said...

You've been doing and will keep doing all the work required to have a body set to do IMMoo come the day.

On the day your biggest threat would have been going out too hard due to overconfidence.
Clearly: Not. Gonna. Happen. Now.

Good thing you did Wildflower!

Taconite Boy said...

she's wrong...
we're meant to be IRONMEN

Jessi said...

You are definitely going to be an Ironman. No doubt about it.

Jessi said...

You are definitely going to be an Ironman. No doubt about it.

LoneStarCrank said...

great post greyhound! funny how that four letter "f" word creeps into our training and into our lives. keep at it...

Carrie said...

The greyhound doesn't always get the rabbit, but he always keeps trying. That's you my friend. Just keep lining up. You are an Ironman.

Coach Tammy said...

Lerve your beautimous QRoo! (comments not enabled in your most recent post). The Lucero is my dream man, alas, I must save more pennies before I can afford him.