Payin' the Piper

I rested with no guilty feelings on Thursday, as I knew I had a tough weekend ahead of me. I took my rest day on Thursday, and I tried to prepare mentally for the 5000yd swim/100 mile ride planned for Friday and the 1hr ride/1:45 run planned for Saturday.

According to Wikipedia, "Self-discipline refers to the training that one gives one's self to accomplish a certain task or to adopt a particular pattern of behavior, even though one would really rather be doing something else. For example, denying oneself of an extravagant pleasure in order to accomplish a more demanding charitable deed. Thus, self-discipline is the assertion of willpower over more base desires, and is usually understood to be a synonym of 'self control'. Self-discipline is to some extent a substitute for motivation, when one uses reason to determine a best course of action that opposes one's desires."

Although there aren't many times when you would find me saying "I'd rather be cleaning my house," Friday was one of those rare exceptions. I needed to be cleaning, folding laundry, and painting while my kiddos were at school. However, none of those things will make me stronger in the Gulf of Mexico, or on a windy bike course, or for 26.2 miles on foot come November 1st. This is one of those times when I just have to rely on my head vs. my heart. Self-discipline. The heart is not always strong enough, but the head almost always knows what's best. So when the alarm went off at 5 a.m., I suited up in my swim suit, grabbed my back pack, and headed to the pool with my bike in my car. I followed the swim workout that BT had prescribed, and I knocked out the 5,000yds in a little less than 2 hours. I was a little nervous about my ability to stay focused for a 5,000yd workout, but I concentrated only on the set at hand, and slowly, but surely, chipped away the whole thing.

After finishing the swim, I air-dried (because I forgot my towel-ha!) and then put on my cycling clothes. I halfway panicked that I didn't have enough food, so I drove to the gas station and bought some Fig Newtons and Nutter Butters. I met Michele when I got back, and we took off for 100 miles around 8:30 a.m. You know, century rides are cool when you do one or two a year, but when you're doing one every time you turn around, you just have to trust in your own self-discipline. Although, I can't help but think that something is a wee bit strange about starting your workout at 5:30 a.m., and then having to rush to get finished in time to pick your kids up from school during a normal school day. I'll admit to being a little off-my-rocker at times...but even I find that a little strange. Be it strange or just down-right crazy, though; I have a goal, and I intend to do what it takes to reach it. That being said, we grinded out the miles through Normandy, Wartrace, Bell Buckle, Beech Grove, Summitville, Matt's Hollow, and Fredonia...and we arrived back at the rec center at 94.27, and called it quits. I was completely out of fluid for the last 10 miles, and I was beginnging to feel it. I got off my bike and the thoughts immediatly started swarming, "How...tell me how...you plan on running a marathon after this?" I really didn't have an answer, or an idea, so I just loaded up my bike and went into the rec center and bought a Power Aide. I drank the Power Aide, and I decided to change into my running shoes. I didn't have time for a 3 mile run, but I could get away with 1 mile.

• 1 mile to remind my legs that they have to run even when they are toast.
• 1 mile to prove to myself that my legs can run even when they are toast.
• 1 mile because this time, even though my legs were toast, I did not feel like death...like I did the last time. Toasted legs don't feel good, but they feel better than death, and that is progress. Little bits of progress, over time, is how I've gotten to where I am, and how I intend to become an Ironman.

So I took off down the greenway, with shaky legs, and ran 1 mile. Money in the bank for Ironman. Then I rushed home, showered, picked up the kids, took them to M'boro for Briar's checkup, then rushed back to Tullahoma for the High School Football game they wanted to see.

Saturday morning, I woke up and got started at 6:30 a.m. on my bi-Ouch-bike. It seems as if all that Chamois Butt'r and Body Glide I've been using really was helping, because I had forgotten to apply it on Friday, and I paid the price on Saturday. It was painful, the whole 18 mile ride was, and that's all I've got to say about that. I got off the bike, changed into running shoes, and ran 11.25 miles. It was hot and humid, my water bottle got overtaken by slugs when I left it in the ditch, and my pace was rather slow (9:44), but I was pretty happy with getting it all done. During the last mile of my run, I imagined running the last mile of IMFL, and I had a hard time holding back the emotion. Nothing good in this world comes easy...this training may be long and hard right now, but it's changing me in ways that I need to change. It's holding my feet to the fire. There's no faking it, there's no wishing it, there's only bearing down and getting it done. Pay the Piper, or do without.