The Unexpected

The Unexpected

            I was asked recently what made me want to do an Ironman distance triathlon.  Without hesitation, the image of Julie Moss, a female completing the IM in Kona in 1982 popped in my head. She collapsed and was crawling to the finish, her legs and body were no longer under her control, yet her mind gave her the will to finish, and she became a legend in the sport. This is when I knew I wanted to do this race, when I was a mere 9 years of age. No, it wasn’t from that moment that I went around claiming this was my great destiny, but it was the moment the seed was planted that I could and would someday do this event.  When I gave that answer, I received a laugh with a head shake as if to show how absurd this all sounded. Really, it sounds absurd? Well I guess to some it may seem crazy, even downright unattainable. But for those who share my same “insane” desire, well they just get it, and for those who do not, well I hope one day they do get it. I hope they realize how powerful and freeing it is to ones soul to be able to overcome such an obstacle. To experience the magnitude of how it impacts your life by changing your outlook about yourself and your peers. How it enables you to put things into perspective that would otherwise seem unfeasible. It’s not that everyone has to do this kind of endurance event to feel the same way I do. I think each one of us can achieve this feeling by simply stepping outside of our comfort zones and conquering something bigger than ourselves.

            Just as in life, the journey of the Ironman is full of unexpected obstacles which give rise to the constant fluctuation of motivation and purpose behind completing it. When I started really thinking about training for this, I had ideas of grandeur and dreams of snagging a Kona spot. I saw myself breezing through the training, after all my endurance was great, and my running was only going to improve. But in an instant, in May of 2010, my nightmare of being plagued with injuries began. A pulled hamstring that arose from biking deemed it necessary for me to reassess my running capabilities and really pushed me mentally to the brink. Yes, I know for some of you the thought that I couldn’t run 7 days a week seems ridiculous to have pushed me to the brink of a mental breakdown, but it did. Running was my escape, it was easy, it was where I could turn my mind off, play with friends, and just let go. Not being able to have this was like a drug addict not having their next fix, only without the physical DT’s that come along with it. But the mental anguish, change in mood and temperament all were the same. Running was my drug, and in an instant it was taken away.

            The next 6-8 months became a battle of hamstring pain, butt pain, leg pain, and then the return of plantar fasciitis. Yikes, can a girl get a break (and her poor husband). Some would think that the logical thing to do would be to stop and just not workout, but this was not an option, I had Ironman on the brain, on the calendar, and in my heart. So since running was out, I turned to biking as my mainstay of exercise. For those close to me, they know that I hated biking, that it hurt, that my heart rate was always too high, and I really was not that skilled at it.  But I guess the old saying is true, Practice makes Perfect! After a year of biking indoors at spin class, on my trainer, with friends and finally outdoors, my ability improved. Now I’m able to hold 20 mph on average for over 60 miles on the bike with my heart rate in the 140’s. My legs feel great, I’m really not taxed, and I can hang with most guys now on the bike (not the serious bikers who hold 24-27 mph though J ). You would think I’m happy…... nope still not thrilled, as I’m still cursed with pain with running.

            So my dreams of Kona are by the wayside, but I still held out hope for a good time on the race, and was hoping to finish under 12 hours (ok really closer to 11).  As I continued to try everything on my leg, it actually improved and the constant burning down my leg was soon replaced with only pain in my foot, YEAH I CAN DO THIS. So I upped my mileage and speed on my running days, and things were falling into place. I was still struggling with every step I took, but it was just one body part hurting not my whole lower half, so I could manage. Well at least I thought I could. After every run, I would start to have more intense pain in my foot, and by the next morning, there were days that I couldn’t even walk on my foot for an hour due to the intensity of the pain. (all you plantar fasciitis people out there know what I’m talking about). Darin would just look at me, shake his head, say something of concern, and then go back to bed. He realized saying anything more was just a futile attempt, and it was usually too early in the morning to muster any desire to fight with me over my thick headedness.

            Again, reassessment needed to be made, and this time I decided I just wanted to finish the run without having to walk a 7 hour marathon. The idea of being in the blazing sun with high humidity, walking 26.2 miles with no iPod, no family support on the course, and knowing I would be in pain really started to sound like hell to me. So I gave up wanting a specific time, and now am focused on doing everything in my power to not walk the entire thing. It’s funny how you can feel good about a new goal even though it is so far from the original one.  As training continued, another unexpected setback came. One day running, the pain in my foot intensified and it lead to that all too familiar burn in my leg (OH HELL NO!). Yep, that pain was back and now I can’t do a thing. So without hesitation, I reached out to all my colleges who could heal me, started the dreaded steroids, had pain patches all over my leg, ice bags taped to different regions, and was using my mother’s scooter. Man I was a mess. Not to mention that I was pissy from this set back, but I was also in a steroid rage with PMS! I have to publicly apologize to my saint husband for making it through that week! Lol  In one of my many mumblings of misery at the pool, I remember the conversation I had with a friend (Jay) who mentioned that he had similar problems and used a therapist to help him, which worked. So I called up Whitaker Therapy and sang my sad tale to him. Yes he too thought I was nuts! After one session, the leg pain disappeared, YAHOO. But the foot pain was much more persistent and required a second session. My leg remains pain free, the heal pain is still present, but I’m able to run pain free for 9-10 miles at a time. My foot still hurts the next day, but is significantly reduced. So my sad tale of injuries should be over right? NOPE, I’ve now encountered another ache, pressure within my knee after running. There is no outward swelling, but I don’t have the ability to bend completely due to some type of inflammation within it. So I’ve been icing my knee which seems to have worked out great. Only problem is, as of 7/24/11, I apparently left the ice on too long and caused frost bite to my knee! MAN I COULD REALLY USE A BREAK. So I’m treating it with a lot of laugher, Silvadene cream, Motrin and throwing in a hope and a prayer for good measure.

            Yes the road to doing an Ironman is long and full of twists and turns that are not ever expected. It really is a test to the human spirit and perseverance. I sometimes wonder how much more pain I will experience the actual day of the race, and how it will compare to all that I have encountered so far. I imagine the race being something like childbirth. I know that it’s going to hurt and I’m preparing myself for the physical and emotional pain that I will endure. I know there is no turning back, and that I just have to continue to go forward till I reach the end, because that is the only option that is available! It’s that finish line that I’m looking forward to the most. Not because I will win it, or win my age group, or get money, but because I will have won something that no one can ever give me or take away, personal accomplishment with a dash of Euphoria.