I haven’t written much in the last week because as some pain-in-the-ass once said a million times, if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Not that I’m hating on myself for not becoming triathlete of the year after three weeks of training, I just got tired of listening to myself mentally discuss my ability, or lack thereof. I don’t even like it whenever somebody uses ‘lack thereof’, so I’ll just stop that discussion there.
So far this year I’ve been to two tri seminars (‘Scheduling a Training Plan’, ‘Heart Rate/VO2 Zone Training’), read two triathlon books, joined a gym with a fairly unbelievable pool (pictured above), joined a tri ‘team (I have my usual reservations about that, more later), hired a swimming coach for private lessons, started those sessions, done several hour-long 20-mile bike sessions, done a couple of 2.5 hour long runs in advance of Boston in April, all the while keeping my running mileage at 40-50 miles a week. And sticking to my usual weight training schedule that has made me gain weight and increase the likelihood of sinking to the bottom of the pool. Overall, I’m averaging two hours of ‘exercise’ a day and I feel like I’m just scratching the surface.
The credit card bills have arrived, and the debt is already in the four figures, no problem, And I’ve barely started spending on all the bike-related stuff. Training better start coming together before spring, because I’m not going to want to be throwing money at the three-sport lifestyle for months if I don’t enjoy it on some level, be it through better health or through satisfying some personal masochistic tendencies. We’ll see.
So right now swimming is akin to a root canal, but then again that’s giving root canals a bad rap. But as the coach put it, don’t think about what you can’t do or negatively judge what you just did, just assess your abilities, make a small goal and work on it. I have major issues with breathing underwater, more about that later when I’m in the mood for self-psychoanalysis. For now I’ll just say that the collapsed lung I suffered (along with major surgery) a dozen years ago has made me just a little nervous about putting myself in situations where breathing is restricted. So for the time being I’m just trying to improve my pool experience comfort zone from ‘root canal’ to ‘teeth cleaning’. Insert happy face emoticon HERE, motherfuckers.
More later.
5 comments:
I feel you on the "root canal" analogy, hang in there, and remember morons like me who lead the swim usually end up fading to the faster cyclists and runner types.
Cranky: "I have major issues with breathing underwater."
Claire: Well so does everyone, dummy. That's why you turn your head and breathe OUT of the water. There you go, one swim lesson free of charge.
Cranky: "the collapsed lung I suffered... a dozen years ago has made me just a little nervous about putting myself in situations where breathing is restricted."
Claire: What? And running doesn't restrict your breathing? You ARE nuts.
Cranky: "Not that I’m hating on myself for not becoming triathlete of the year after three weeks of training, I just got tired of listening to myself mentally discuss my ability, or lack thereof."
Claire: If you think you are starting at zero and completely lack ability, go to a Team in Training practice and watch the fat soccer moms and dads on their mountain bikes struggle to hold 10 miles per hour. I KNOW you're going to beat me in July, and don't think I'm not at least a bit bitter about it! Now quit complaining and go swimming, dammit!
That pool is sexy. Turning me on kinda...makes the UCONN pool look puny...
Get comfortable in the water.
Wow! You are attacking this thing from a dozen directions. Success will be yours. Enjoy.
Wait, I can't type because I'm laughing too hard at claire's TNT comment... Ok, composed myself. You're certainly stacking the deck in your favor for success with this thing, Cranky. You've also got a ginormous base (training, not rear) from which you're starting. The swimming will definitely come - and the good news is, that the swim part really doesn't matter all that much - it's the bike. And you'll smoke 'em on the run! Keep on kickin' it!
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