My Miracle Mile/It's My Tri and I'll Cry If I Want To

After a strong training weekend last weekend, the week fell apart.

I took Monday as a rest day, though I had an open water swim lesson that went well; on Tuesday, I swam a short distance in the quarry, then transitioned to a 30 miler with my tri club, then did a three mile run. Sounds good...except from the moment I was on the bike, I felt as though I were breathing through two teeny tiny straws...sometimes fewer.

We started out on the same hill I'd started my good ride on Sunday, but unlike Sunday, I was struggling and immediately dropped by the group. This discomfort continued through the run. I'm glad I stayed with it through the run, but was so exhausted from the breathing issue by the end that I felt totally full of stress hormones...like crying was going to be the only way to get them out of my system. I didn't quite go there, but it was right under the surface, even though I thought I was being philosophical about the whole thing....if philosophical means accepting the truth that this is impossible, that is...

I discovered later that most of the riders in the group are fast, elite, experienced endurance athletes, so I felt a little better about totally being dropped, but it is frustrating to feel there's some sort of physiological impairment---this chest tightness/breathing issue---that keeps me from doing everything I know my legs are capable of. At any rate: Wednesday night, I did intervals in the arb; Thursday night, started a run, but discovered there was nothing in the tank. Took it easy Friday, though taking it easy was not on the schedule. Felt like taking it easy today, and worried over how easily *that* could be a habit. Two open water swims in two days were cancelled b/c of weather. My goal had been to swim my first open water mile this weekend, but inertia was setting in. I did go cheer friends on at the Capitol View Triathlon, and was totally intimidated by how far the Olympic swim seemed to be. Again I wondered what the heck I have been thinking.

Finally, I required myself to go to the Y and swim. Got in the water by 6:06; Y closes at 7. Comfortably swam 1800 continuous meters in the following 50 minutes---no hurry, worry, muss or fuss. I thought that was 1 mile and discovered later that it is actually a bit more, which is good, given that I should swim the mile faster. STILL: it is my first continuous mile w/o fins or a pull bouy (let alone a wetsuit), so tonight I feel like crying for different reasons---joy, relief, amazement at how far the swim has come in the last month. I could have kept going, save for the pool closing. It was actually almost relaxing, dare I say? It's still a long way to 2.4 in open water, and it's freakish short time between now and the weekend after next, when I'm scheduled to do a half ironman in two weeks---am I ready?---but it is a sign of progress.



Ironman Wisconsin is three months from today, by the numbers, 12 weeks from tomorrow by the day. As I write this at 10:48, I recognize that I could be coming in the final turn just about now. I suspect I might be crying then, too.