I survived the mega-crazy-brick-workout-extravaganza. I felt like I might die, but I didn’t.
Physically, it went perfectly fine. With my HRM broken, I don’t have a watch capable of giving me splits, but the bike computer told me that the 3 5.9-mile bikes were done in 1:02:12 for an overall average of 17.1 mph. My very basic stopwatch told me that my total time for the workout (5.9 mile bike, 2 mile run, 5.9 bike, 1 run, 5.9 bike, 1 run) was 1:51:43 which means there was 49:29 leftover for 4 miles of running plus 3 bike->run and 2 run->bike transitions. If that’d been all running, it’d be a 12:22/mile average. In reality, I probably spent at least 4 minutes in those 5 transitions changing shoes each time and dealing with my helmet, which gives me a more promising 11:22/mile average for the 4 total miles of running.
So yeah, physically things were good. Physically.
Mentally, unfortunately, I was in alllll the wrong places. I was tired. I was hungry. It was hot. I forgot my water bottles and had to make do with a 20-oz bottle of Dasani from the vending machine. Almost two hours of exercise and only 20 ounces of water meant that I was dehydrated. (Post-workout, within an hour, I had gulped a bottle of Gatorade, a bottle of chocolate milk, and another bottle of water. MMM.) I was the last to finish the workout, and for the entire two hours I mentally berated myself for being so slow. Why was I putting myself through this? Why do I bother? I haven’t lost any weight, and while I’ve gotten faster, I’m not exactly going to be winning races anytime soon…or ever. I had to walk a little bit during the runs to catch my breath. I was mad. I was grumpy. Most of all, I was scared. I didn’t want to do it. Somehow as yesterday progressed, I totally psyched myself out about the workout.
On Tuesday morning I was thinking about a Half Ironman. On Wednesday night I was telling myself that even a sprint tri was a dumb idea. I had a good swim workout and felt like I could do anything; then I had a bum day at work, and felt like I’d be better of quitting.
It’s funny how quickly attitudes can change, and how much external things affect you. I plan on getting back into good mental shape right away.
It’s funny, we know how much mentality plays in running and other sports, but when someone goes on about “I could never run, I don’t know how to breathe. I’m too heavy. I’m too tired after work. Etc”, it never dawns on me to tell them “No, the reason you don’t do anything is because your brain is all jacked up.” It says a lot about you that despite all the outside forces and the tough mental talk you were dealing yourself, that you did it all anyway.
Great job, and keep your head up. 🙂
Sam
Ditto what Sam said. I’m really inspired by you Sarah. I know what a busy and active life you lead (it’s nothing like having kids, but…) and you always seem to rise to the occasion, no matter what the challenge. Seeya on Sunday and good luck at Maribelle’s.
I have been a lurker on your blog for about 9 months because you inspire me to continue. You always keep going. Your perseverance is very admirable.
It doesn’t matter how fast you are, there’s always times when you’ll be the slowest. I ran track one year, and despite running a 6:xx mile, I was the slowest. The slowest girl, the slowest person. I’m sure on professional running teams, somebody is the slowest. It just means you’ve raised the bar and joined a higher level of competition. If you stick with the level of exercise you’ve been doing for 6 months or a year, I bet you’ll see incredible results in terms of ability and fitness, whether or not you lose a lot of weight. (On crew, the best athletes were some of the heaviest, not the lightest.)