Cue meltdown in three...two...one...

Since the past few blogging days have been about making embarrassing confessions, I have another for you:

I had a mini meltdown on Sunday about my bike.

I knew it was coming, based on my internal freak-out that happened on Saturday. Luckily I was able to accomplish something productive out of the whole incident.

I was supposed to swim on Sunday, but my body was just far too sore from Saturday's run, so I wussed out. Instead I decided to conquer my biking fears. I dutifully suited up in some biking clothes, affixed my helmet, and set off into the garage to confront the beast.

My husband supportively came with me and tried to give me a lesson on shifting gears because, as we've covered, I'm in my mid-20s and do not know how to properly ride a bike. He toyed with the gear shifters for a few minutes, face scrunched up. He finally made the grand pronouncement of "I don't think these are working." Great.

He then helpfully attempted to inflate my tires a bit. Instant problem: We don't have the proper adapter to attach the air pump to the tires. In his effort to try, he wound up partially deflating my tires. Things are going just grand at this point.

So here I stand, in my bike clothes, nerdy helmet perched on my head, with no working bike. I sullenly wander inside the house to see if the local bike shop is open on Sunday for tune ups. No dice. They're not open until Tuesday.

I burst into tears.

An overreaction, to be sure, but I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. I felt like all this training I've been doing has been a big sham. Who was I to think I could do something as athletic as compete in a triathlon? How could I have possibly thought I could pull of an April 18 sprint tri without knowing how to adequately ride a bike and swimming at the speed of molasses? Why was I even bothering?

I cried for a few minutes while my cats circled in concern. I then bucked up and found another bike shop in the area, one that specializes in triathlons, that was open for another 30 minutes. My husband and I loaded the bike in my car and off we went. She should be ready on Wednesday for pickup. Come that time I'm going to swallow my insecurities and ask the shop for a brief tutorial on how to use my bike most efficiently (aka, "Please help me, I don't even know how to change gears).

This will get easier. I will get better.

Consistency

I had a fantastic run on Saturday. I worked hard and I'm paying the price for it...ow. Still super sore, and it's been two days!

With temperatures in the low 60s, I set off for my first run around the pond in about a month. I am significantly slower when I run outdoors, but I'm coming to terms with that. The good news: I've gotten a little faster. I'm up to about a 12 minute mile, which is still very slow but faster than the 14 or 15 minute miles I was getting when I first started running back in August. I'll take it!

The best news is that I am finally running consistently. For a long time I would run fast at the start and then slowly but surely taper off over the course of my run. My time on the treadmill must be paying off, because I was hitting my marks on the nose throughout the entire run. I'm going to consider this progress!

I ran 3.5 miles including 10 minutes of walking (about a half mile) in line with my 8K training plan. I believe this was the longest I've run outdoors since my 5K in November, and my body is feeling it! Overall I was really proud of myself and felt great.  I miss running outdoors...I'll be very happy once spring begins to show its face around here!

Mental Block

I have a confession to make: I'm intimidated by my new bike.

She's not so scary looking, is she? But...here's my other embarrassing confession: I've only ever ridden one-speed bikes. Growing up I always rode my older sisters' bikes, which were old one-speeds. I may have ridden a more advanced bike for a year or two but it was the kind where you shift gears by backpedaling, and my neighborhood was flat so I never needed to change gears. So here I am, a grown woman, and I don't know how to properly ride a big girl bike.

I went for my first ride on the new girl on Thursday, and it was not quite what I hoped it would be. Third embarrassing confession of the day: I've only ridden a non-stationary bike twice in the past two years. Prior to that it had been fifteen years since I'd been on a bike as a child. So, my confidence and balance need some work. I puttered around my neighborhood for a couple of miles just trying to get my legs under me. When I was riding smoothly it was pretty awesome. I need to get used to being on a road bike with the low handlebars, and I kept straining my neck trying to be bent over while still maintaining a clear view of the road over my glasses. Note to self: Next time, wear contacts. 

Biggest hurdle: I literally do not know how to ride a bike with gears. I would get to a hill and the bike would.not.move. Clearly I was in the wrong gear, and I didn't know how to fix it. I tried flipping through the gear shifts and trying to find the right one, but it just wasn't working. And you know how I am about what I perceive to be failure.

So here I sit on a 50+ degree day, talking myself out of going bike riding. I know that I just need to get over the hurdle of figuring out gear shifting and then I'll feel great, but until then I'm panicking and wondering if I'm really going to be ready for a triathlon in mid-April. What if I can't bike up hills? What if I get a flat and don't know how to patch it? What if my chain jumps off and I don't know how to fix it. What if I can't finish my first tri?!?!?!?! 

Deep breaths. Combined with my swimming weakness I'm sitting here having a serious tri panic. Does everyone go through this? I was feeling super confident just last week after I did a mini sprint tri at the gym (swam 400 yards, stationary-biked 10 miles, treadmill-ran 1.25 miles), but now I'm feeling overwhelmed. 

The temperatures this weekend are supposed to be in the high-50s, low 60s both days, and the sunshine is staring me in the face like a loaded gun. I have to get out there. I WANT to get out there. But I'm afraid of failure.

I just need to man up and go. I'll figure it out. I'll get better....right?

I've been training, really I have!

My apologies for the long, long delay in posting anything. In truth I've been too busy training!

The demands of work, training, teaching, dog and assorted life crises have kept me on my toes lately. Through it all I've come to realize that working out is the one thing truly keeping me sane during this hectic time in my life. There is a notable difference in my demeanor (a cranky one) on the days when I am not able to work out. Coming home from a good run or bike ride has me feeling like a million bucks and I crave those endorphins now. How on earth did I ever live without adrenaline rushes for so long?!

My triathlon training is going well. I'm realizing that my swimming needs a lot of work, so I've now committed to at least one, if not two, swims per week. Each swim gets a little easier, so I just need to keep hammering away at my endurance.

I've had some great runs lately. I've finally come to view the treadmill as an ally and I no longer dread those indoor workouts. I had a phenomenal experience running in the Arizona mountains while visiting family earlier this month, and it made me realize how lucky I am in life. Regardless of previously mentioned life crises, I am still happy, healthy, and able to run. For this I am grateful. One of my favorite running blogs also recently talked about a similar epiphany while running through beautiful scenery, and I thought frequently of this sentiment as I breathed in the crisp mountain air. Truly blessed indeed.

My big news of the week is that I just purchased a road bike! So I'm now able to fully train and race in my upcoming April triathlon. She's sitting in my car at the moment, just waiting to be unloaded and taken for a ride. I plan on trekking around the neighborhood a bit this evening to get a feel for her before making my way to the pool. Ah the life of an aspiring triathlete! Such simple pleasures.

This weekend is supposed to be beautiful, with highs in the upper 50s. It'll be the first warm spell for close to a month around these parts, and I intend to take full advantage with lots of bike rides and outdoor runs.

I'll be more diligent about updating the blog from this point forward. So tune in for more adventures!

Maybe I'm Finally Getting the Hang of This

Two nights ago I fully intended to hit the gym and bike around 10 miles to start my triathlon training again. I drove to the gym and circled around the parking lot for a few minutes before I realized that something must have been happening on campus. Not only was the gym parking lot full, but the other nearby lots were packed and there were people milling around. Possibly a show going on in the theatre, which is a floor up from the gym. I decided to call my plan off. I wound up doing a 30 minute core/cardio workout at home instead. My abs are not pleased with me.

Last night I dragged myself to the gym for another treadmill run. I tried very hard to talk myself out of it, again, but ultimately I got on the dreaded machine.

Something I never thought I'd say: The treadmill is growing on me. I like that I can run faster on it, and that I can track my progress. As much as I love my pond trail, and I can fairly accurately count my pace based on time and distance (each loop around the pond is just shy of .25 miles), I don't get the same feedback as I do from the treadmill. Maybe our strained relationship can be improved after all.

Each time I do a treadmill run I try to edge my speed up a notch or two. Tiny notches, but they add up. A couple weeks ago I was consistently running at 5.2mph, and now I'm up to 5.8mph with some forays into the 6s. Still freaking slow, but steady improvement. I ran harder than usual, and embraced the sweat and the pain in my legs. Time seemed to fly by as I focused on my distance and pace, not time. About halfway through the workout I realized that I could reach a total of 4 miles if I stepped it up a bit, so I did. In the dying seconds of my run I was flat out - I got up to 8mph. So that's what an 8 minute mile feels like! And I realized...it's hard. But it's not THAT hard. I haven't been pushing myself enough, so from now on each run I really want to work on my intensity and speed. I CAN do it, I just need to put in the effort and dedication.

The run ended with me furiously pounding away at 8mph, as the distance calculator climbed to 3.96, 3.97....and then stopped. My 46 minutes had come to an end and the treadmill shut down. That 3.97 is going to taunt me for a while, but it will be conquered soon. This was my last workout of Week 2, so my next run will put me up to four repetitions of running 9 minutes, walking 1 minute. I can't wait.

Breakthrough?

Last night I thought I was going to have an awful run. I really had to talk myself into going at all, plus my shins were still incredibly tight. I started running really, really slowly and figured I would just push through and get the run done and move on.

About a half mile in I realized that if I ran faster my shins actually felt better, as though the tension was being worked out of them, so I kept up the pace. I was by no means flying, but I was running faster than usual. I began to lock into that pace after my designated minute walking sections and my muscles could "feel" that pace again. It was great. Instead of my pace increasing and slowing over the course of a run it stayed pretty consistent, and it was more challenging for me. I read today about the concept of tempo runs and I think I accidentally stumbled into something similar last night.

I'm far, far from my goal pace, but last night I was definitely faster and I'm encouraged by that. I felt fantastic when I got home and I'm excited for tomorrow's run. Tonight I hit the bike at the gym.

A New Focus?

My cryptically-referred-to swim never materialized yesterday. I got caught up in housework fever, plus my legs were feeling very sore from my last two runs and I didn't want to overdo it. These are all lovely excuses for the real reason: I am avoiding getting back in that pool.

I last swam on Labor Day at the start of my first foray into triathlon training. I was a fish growing up, always in my parents' pool and was a great swimmer. That was...many years ago. I'm also largely a self-taught swimmer because I was medically excused from gym class beginning in 7th grade (knee injury), so my technique gets me from Point A to Point B but not very efficiently.

First of all, I get a bit overwhelmed by new things. Locating the pool, establishing space in the locker room and figuring out where to check in/how many yards the pool was/what the rules were really made me nervous. Quite honestly, this is likely the real reason why I've been avoiding going back in the pool. I like routine, and new-ish things are not routine. I need to get over this. Once in the pool and swimming I quickly realized that the other swimmers were swimming much differently than I was. I was never really properly taught how to freestyle, so I don't put my head in the water and my kick is sort of a breast stroke/wild flailing hybrid. It is slow but, more importantly, it completely exhausts me because it's so much work. I've been watching freestyle technique videos online and need to basically re-train myself how to do it. This also feels like a daunting task.

Why am I focused on getting back in the pool? Because I think I might want (translation: I want but don't want to commit because I'm terrified I can't do it) to compete in a sprint triathlon in mid-April. Logically I know that I CAN do it. The swim portion is only 300 yards, which I should be able to manage quite nimbly with three months to go. The bike part is only 10 miles, which I can easily do. I've already run a 5K and am training for 8K. This should be a piece of cake.

Except I'm terrified. At the beginning of this journey, back in August, I declared to my friend that if I ever completed a triathlon I would feel like the biggest badass in the world. Her response: "Then do it. What's stopping you?" Simple but true. I've been psyching myself out of it for months now, convinced that my physical and mental abilities are somehow too inferior to contemplate actually completing a tri. Putting a hard date on it (April 18, gulp....) is scaring the bejesus out of me. I'm avoiding registering until the last minute "just in case." Just in case what?! I break my leg? I move away? That I'm somehow "not ready" even though I'm already prepared for two out of three portions, with the third being do-able within a few weeks of training? I'm a loon.

...Oh but I hope to soon also be a triathlete!