Tuesday, June 12, 2018

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again

Today I'm going to write about the two races that I attempted to do last week. As in anything, there is good and bad and it's all a good learning experience.

So, I was supposed to do a triathlon a couple of weekends ago. I got sick on the Thursday before it and tried to rest as much as possible in hopes I would be better for the race.

On Sunday, John and I got up at 4:30 and drove to the race. I felt like I was getting better, although I definitely wasn't 100%. I figured I'd try it anyway, since I paid plenty of money for it. I'd just go slow and easy and not worry about my time.

It all started out fine. I gabbed and joked with the older ladies in my race at the start. Then it was my time to jump in the water. It was nice and warm and I started to swim. I didn't get very far before my harder breathing got the stuff in my lungs (EW!) moving and I had a huge coughing fit in the water. On top of that, it was super windy and the water was crazy choppy. The minute I'd get my coughing under control, a wave would smack me in the face. Both issues meant I couldn't breathe. I tried a little more and realized I wasn't going to make it. I swam toward one of the boats and the lovely volunteers pulled me in and took me to shore. 

I was a little sad, but no race is worth dying for. I got to watch John and some other friends race and then we went home and I basically slept the whole day.

My next race was the following Wednesday evening. We had a ten mile time trial race out past Solon. We had just had the first in this series of races two weeks before and my time wasn't what I'd wanted at that race. I rested every day until the race and felt like the worst of my cold had passed.

 I had no idea how I'd feel, but I still set my goal time as a minute faster than the race before. The weather kept threatening to storm and a few people even pulled out of the race after they had already paid.

I was one of the first to go off. I got going and didn't feel too bad. I was also strangely focused for me. I remembered what to concentrate on and I felt pretty strong. So, I went with it. I made it to the turn around and still dabbed my foot, but made it through faster than the last time. Baby steps.

On the way back, I just kept steady and tried to keep my head down as much as possible. There is one long hill on the way back and I hate, hate, hate, it. So, this time when it started to hurt, I just told myself to keep going and not worry about my speed, so I didn't blow-up closer to the top.

When I finished, I felt pretty good about my race. It seemed like I had gone harder and was more focused than the last race. Although, I thought it could just be that I wasn't completely well and it just FELT like I was going harder. I asked the official said my time and he told me. I had gone EXACTLY a minute faster than last time. Hooray!

So, this tale of two races means this for me: Sometimes you try and it doesn't work out and sometimes you try and you do better than you thought you'd do. I have to remember to always give it a shot and not get too upset if it isn't a good day, because the next time might make up for it. I guess I look at things the opposite of how Yoda sees them: Do (well) or do not, there's always try.

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