Brain fog is happening right now, so I’ll cut to the chase…
I’m tired. Yards upon yards of swimming at the Y (which is literally my least favorite thing), miles upon miles of biking in the wind that I swear will never die, and miles upon miles of time spent running…and yeah, I’m tired. Burning through calories like crazy, taking a lot of time to stretch, making sure I’m drinking enough water—it’s all exhausting. But today I got hit with a moment of clarity—I think I got it.
This week training has been fine. Nothing spectacular. I did twinge my shoulder swimming Thursday, but it is what it is. I stopped and hit the Crossover Symmetry as soon as I got to the gym. Nothing felt great, but nothing felt terrible. Until today. Today I did my practice tri for the week. It was SUPPOSED to be 1150 yards swimming, 35 mile bike, and 6 mile run. I decided it would be a great idea to swim in the river with my mom kayaking next to me in case I needed help. I’m incredibly afraid of fish. Nothing could go wrong.
Yeah. Made it 10 minutes. The current was so strong that I literally moved nowhere. The water was so cold I was getting dizzy and wasn’t thinking clearly. Not my best move. I touched a fish at one point too. I panicked and did some weird doggy paddle/flailing stroke because I was so freaked out. I couldn’t see shit. I didn’t want to put my face in the water. Overall bad. I still did it, sure. But it was bad. You’d think I’d make up for it on the bike. Wrong. Thirty-five miles of lovely wind that would NOT let up. At one point, I was struggling to go 9.5 mph. That “one point” lasted for 2.5 miles. It was miserable. My heart rate was super high throughout the bike. I didn’t want to completely gas myself, so I hit three miles of running. I don’t ever mind the run part (something I never thought I’d say).
But back to my original moment of clarity. That swim was horrendous. I felt like the biggest idiot, the worst athlete, and like I had failed miserably. However, despite that mess, I still went on the bike. If I didn’t think I could do it the day of the race, why would I have gotten on the bike? If I truly thought I was going to fail, why did I spend the next 3 hours putting in work? Somewhere in my brain, I know I can do it. Even when I have these horrible days, I still bring something positive out of them (usually). I don’t know where that little nugget of hope is, but I’m going to hold onto it until I cross the finish line on July 28th.