It’s that point in Ironman training where I start to crumble just a little. The volume starts to pick up, the early mornings seem earlier, I’m hungrier than ever and I’m crabby – like really crabby – to everyone in my life. Consider this a PSA.
The other day at the office a colleague asked why I never wore heels? Innocent question I suppose? But I whipped my head around with disgust and barked, “because I would rather run well than look taller!” He laughed and smiled awkwardly as he walked away. (I’m pretty sure we won’t chat again?)
But cute heels are just one small compromise I make to reach my triathlon goals. My life turns upside down this time of year and it happens so quickly that before I know it I can’t remember the last time I went out with the girls, attended a party or had a date with Paul?
My social life is not the only thing that suffers. My body goes through a sufferfest every.single.day. From 3-4 hour trainer rides, choking at open water swims (OWS) to track workouts that have me heaving, there is no shortage of pain on this journey. A friend of mine said it well, “to be an Ironman you must be willing to do what most will not” — there is so much truth in that statement. Thanks Mark DV.
So, I continue on … Constantly smelling like chlorine, rocking the bike short tan lines, eating hard boiled eggs like Mike Tyson and going to bed earlier than a nine-year-old. Not to mention always looking like a disheveled hot mess. Yes. All for that one moment. That finish line moment . And for that reason, deep down, I sorta love training days.
So I can’t help but wonder, was Dickens training for an Ironman when he said, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”
Because it really is. #IMAZ