Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Deep thoughts and reflections
I found myself asking a question I thought I knew the answer to - WHO AM I? I thought the answer was easy: I am a runner. But there's a lot more to me than running, I run marathons, it's WHAT I like to do, but it's not WHO I am. Or is it? I don't know anymore. It is definitely a passion of mine and a HUGE part of my life. Three weeks without running left me lost and questioning my life and the depth and meaning and substance and things that define ME.
What ELSE is there to me? Running removed from the equation, what's left? What makes me tick? What else do I enjoy? At first glance and the first few days of not running, all the answers were still running related. Revising my training plan, re-evaluating upcoming races, re-focusing efforts to give me the best possible chance of getting to the start line of key events. I like hanging out with my running friends, I like looking up new fun races to run. Even volunteering at races or helping plan upcoming events and donating to friends that are running for charity. But those are all still RUNNING things.
REALLY, WHAT ELSE IS THERE????? Two weeks into my hiatis this question was eating away at my soul and forcing me to take a tough and painful look in the mirror and think about it. WHO AM I? I started to answer the question by brainstorming and listing out things I enjoy - trying new things, challenging myself, learning something new, cooking and eating new foods, exploring, laughing. I love movies and music and reading books. I like making things with my own two hands. I've taught myself to do a lot of things, sometimes out of curiousity and sometimes out of boredom. I can knit, quilt, scrapbook, draw, paint, sculpt, and lots of other random things. I tried to learn guitar once, but only got to Jingle Bells.
I'm incredibley independent and self sufficient, almost to a fault. I've had to be for most of my life. I find it very hard to ask people for help when I need it and will usually suffer in silence long before reaching out. In recent years I've had to learn to overcome this obstacle because I've ended up in the emergency room stranded by some sort of accident with no way out but to ask for help. It's not fun, but it has helped me open up and realize it's ok. I don't always have to do everything myself. That's what friends are for. I'm always there for my friends, it only makes sense that they are there for me too. I'm just always too stubborn or proud to ask for help.
Thankfully, I have started running again and the rest and acupuncture has done wonders for my foot. I'm almost back to 100% and feeling confident for Chicago in about 25 days. Last week I did a short easy 4 mile test run with Kim to see how I felt because I had my half ironman race on deck for the weekend. I was really tight in the first mile of our run and definitely not fast, but I felt ok and most importantly, my foot felt ok. I think we only averaged 10:30s which for a shorter run was pretty slow, but I wanted to take it easy. By the time we finished the run I was loosened up and feeling alright. I stretched and iced as a precaution, but overall I was very optimistic about the healing and progrosis for upcoming races.
Sunday I got up and got dressed, threw my stuff in the car and headed to South Berwick for the race. Super anxious and a little excited. I got there, got my stuff, set up in transition and then had about an hour to kill before the race started. I tried to mentally prepare for what I knew would be a long day. I tried to relax and visualize a great race. Before I knew it I had to squish into my wetsuit and head down to the water. It was super warm. I swam around a little before they called all the athletes out of the water for the pre-race announcements. National Anthem and some instructions and with the boom of a cannon the elite wave went off into the water. 8 minutes later it was my turn to start.
I stayed towards the back of the wave and just tried to pace myself knowing I would be swimming for about 45 minutes based on last year's time. I felt horrible right from the start. I stopped a few times and tried to relax. I couldn't breathe. I felt really hot despite the fact that I was under water. I felt like I was sinking even though I had a wet suit on and was doing fine. I watched wave after wave of different colored swim caps pass me in the water and I looked around and saw only one other blue swim cap a little ways in front of me in the water. I know I am not a fast swimmer, but I can usually do ok. This felt different. I was really struggling.
I made it out of the water and looked at my watch, 51 minutes! And I was spent. Now I had to climb a huge hill and get on my bike. I got up the hill and into the transistion area and I couldn't get my wetsuit off. I finally managed to make my way out of the transition area hopped on my bike to begin the 56 mile ride. I felt ok. I was cold and wet but at the same time I still felt really hot. I was sluggish and although I felt like I was going as hard as I could whenever I looked at my bike computer it told a different story. I was barely averaging 14-15mph. I can normally do 18-20mph pretty comfortably and this was a relatively flat fast course.
I tried not to worry about it and didn't want to focus on the time because I knew it wasn't going to be a great day and I wasn't expecting anything amazing, but I also didn't expect it to feel so difficult. I still couldn't really breathe and my all out effort was slower than a relaxing joyride. The first lap of the two lap course took me a lot longer than it did the year before and by my calculation in my head I was on target to finish about an hour slower. It was frustrating, but I pushed on and figured maybe by the time I got to the run I would feel better because I did the year before. I was a little worried about my foot, but ready to test it out.
I finished the bike and got my running shoes on. I ran out of the transition like a bat outta hell, just like the previous year. I felt really great. I got to the first mile marker and checked my watch, but realized I hadn't looked at it before so I had no idea what my pace was. I made a mental note to look at the next mile marker. I just kept running and found a comfortable pace and made it to mile marker 2. I did the math in my head and I thought I was doing about 10 minute miles. Not bad, I'd take it. The course was a little hilly and a double loop out and back. I had forgotten about it since last year and couldn't remember exactly where it went and the overlapping mile markers were confusing. You pass 8 and 12 when you only at like mile 4. It really messes with your head.
I gutted it out and just kept running. My foot felt ok. My legs were really hurting (probably from bootcamp the day before) and I was going considerabley slower than I wanted to, but I was running and my foot didn't hurt so I was happy. I stopped to use the port-o-potty at mile 9 and then tried to finish up the last few miles strong. The miles did not go by fast and each mile marker felt like an eternity between them, but I counted down and thought to myself just a few more miles and you're done. I was still struggling to breathe. I noticed that my breathes were pretty shallow and labored. I tried to take a few really deep breathes and fill my lungs and couldn't. That made it really hard to push in the last couple of miles. I can usually use a few deep breathe to power myself through rough patches in a race, but this time I couldn't get a deep breathe.
Up and over the last hill and it was just a short downhill section of grass to the finish line. I was terrified because it's that type of uneven surface that really bothers my foot. I tried to run gingerly down the slope and nearly twisted my ankle a few times, but eventually made it across the finish in just over a total of 7 hours! I got my medal and turned in my timing chip and made my way out of the finish chute to my brother and mom waiting on the other side to congratulate me. My brother gave me a hug and asked if I was ok and my legs buckled beneath me. I fell to the ground and struggled to get the words out as the EMTs approached, "I......... CAN'T............ BREATHE" They offered me a chair and gatorade. I was already on the ground with my head between my legs. I wasn't about to try and stand. And I wasn't dehydrated, I didn't need gatorade. I could have used some oxygen, but that wasn't among the list of things they offered me. I sat for a few minutes trying to catch my breathe and saying "NO" to all their offerings. I don't want broth. I don't need the misting tent. I don't want to lie down with my feet up.
I finally got up and was able to function. So strange and scary. The whole time I was worried about my foot and that was totally fine. It was my lungs that didn't work. Oh well. I finished and it was over. I got some water, a little food and put dry clothes on. Then I had to drive home. Man, I really wish I had a boyfriend just to drive me home after I do stupid shit like a half ironman. It would be really nice to be able to sleep in the car and not have to pay attention to the road and drive. Whatever. I decided on my way home that something was up with my body and something wasn't functioning correctly. I need to re-evaluate things and change something. SO......here it comes.....I fell off the veggie wagon and bought a grass fed organic steak to cook myself for dinner. It was really good. I didn't feel any better the next day, but I didn't really expect to after racing 70.3 miles.